Food, Ritual, Emotion.

Some things in life are sacred. Today is Sunday, and we have enjoyed a cooked breakfast, and will later eat a full roast dinner (Beef rump, mmm). Sunday for me, is a two meal day. It has been for as long as I can remember. You get up later than usual, eat an enormous breakfast at about 10.30, and then start to feel hungry again at about six. It used to be that I’d spend my afternoons doing homework and enjoy having a roast dinner cooked for me by my mum, but then I started making better gravy than her, and then I left home, and now I think if I suggested to Diesel that he make a roast dinner, I’d get laughed out the house and into a carvery. Whilst on paper eating the same meals week in week out (obviously there are variations) sounds pretty boring, but actually it’s incredibly comforting. Also, you can’t eat muesli on a Sunday (what would be the point of Sunday?) So, this in mind I thought I’d share some of my thoughts on cooking Roast beef and English breakfast.

English breakfast

Try and avoid as much as possible frying things. This may go against received wisdom (it’s not called a fry-up for nothing), but an English breakfast including fried eggs, fried bread, fried bacon, fried sausage etc. is a sure-fire way to give yourself crippling indigestion. Also, having a plate full of food coated in fat is just not very appetising. My favourite eggs on an English breakfast plate are scrambled, but that’s probably because my favourite eggs in the world are scrambled. Other than scrambled eggs, poached eggs work very well (dried properly, obviously. There are few things more disheartening at 10.30 on a Sunday morning than being served poached eggs on wet toast). It goes without saying that your eggs should be fresh, free range, produced by hens that sleep on Egyptian cotton sheets and get read a story before bedtime. 

Bacon should be dry cure, smoked. Buying cheap bacon (and sausages) is a false economy, because the extra weight will be made up with water and preservatives. That’s why cheap bacon is slimy, emits a disturbing amount of white matter when cooked and ends up 1/3 of its original size. Decent bacon will not feel wet to the touch, and when cooked remains roughly the same size as it did when it was raw. I love my George Forman grill for sausages and bacon, but a standard grill with a tray beneath to collect the fat is just as good. As far as fried bread is concerned, I just don’t know how anyone can eat it – brown toast/toasted soda bread/toasted breakfast muffins with a liberal application of quality butter all the way. Heinz baked beans (obviously), cooked for a long time over a low heat so they get a bit smashed up and sticky (cowboy beans my mum calls them). Fried mushrooms are my one major exception, my favourites being button mushrooms fried whole in butter, salt and pepper and a splash of Worcester sauce. 

I’m not a massive fan of tomatoes with breakfast, but if you must, avoid at all costs tinned tomatoes (why, WHY would anyone do this?), and a tomato cut in half and bunged under the grill as an afterthought is no one’s idea of fun. Your best bet is to roast some cherry tomatoes whole in the oven on a low heat, seasoned properly with a bit of olive oil and a splash of red wine vinegar. Weddings/birthdays/serious hangovers, some grilled quality black/white pudding takes it up a notch. For a really special treat, dip a piece of brown bread in a bit of the bacon fat and toast under the grill. Controversial I know, but never add hash browns, and serve where possible with freshly squeezed orange juice and a bottle of Lanson Black Label.

 

Roast Dinner (beef)

I know someone who when asked at a job interview ‘what would you say is your biggest weakness?’ responded with ‘um, probably roast potatoes’. This is a sentiment I 100% echo, so, when cooking roast dinner, always do more roast potatoes than you think you will need. One of my favourite après roast moments is finding a few potatoes left in the roasting dish about two hours after we’ve eaten and been sprawled on the sofa groaning unable to move. Diesel doesn’t know they’re there which means they’ve got my name written all over them. There’s still some gravy. It’s all cold but that doesn’t matter, even cold roast potatoes with cold gravy are delicious.

When making roast beef always plan to eat earlier than you really want to, because you will always eat later (by at least an hour) than you plan. Lay the table. Eating soup in front of The Simpsons on a Tuesday night is understandable, but if you’ve made the effort to cook one of our most important national dishes, you owe it to yourself to eat it at the table and bask in the complements that should be showered upon you. Drink red wine, it’s the law on a Sunday. Roast your potatoes in goose/duck fat if you can. Never in good olive oil, and season your potatoes well during roasting. Also, after the pre boil (take it as far as you dare. The longer they boil for the better really, but obviously they’re far more prone to disintegration as a result), shake the pan around in a frenzy. The more fluffy and smashed up they are, the crispier they’ll be. 

I’m not going into which vegetables you should choose or how to cook them, other than to say that for my money it’s worth keeping it simple. Steamed until just cooked and dotted with butter and salt and pepper are all the decoration roast dinner vegetables need. The beef, potatoes, Yorkshire puddings and gravy are the stars of this show. Gravy is essential. Put the roasting pan you cooked the beef in (leaving the beef to rest for at least half an hour) onto the hob, add a tablespoon or two of flour and cook out for a few minutes. Add a good glass of red wine and wait until it’s cooked out, and then add hot beef stock (good quality shop bought stuff is good enough) about a ladleful at a time. Always do more than you think you’ll need. Beef gravy is my favourite soft drink, and running out of it when eating a roast makes me want to cry. Add a decent tablespoon of horseradish sauce, season, taste, adjust, taste, adjust, taste, add another stock pot/cube if it’s not intense enough. When you’re happy, strain and keep warm.

 

Don’t cut the beef too thin – you’re not running a budget restaurant; this is Sunday dinner in your own home. Keep the slices at least 1, preferably 2 cm thick. Anyone can make batter, and anyone can heat oil in the oven in a roasting tin until it is screaming hot, ergo anyone can make decent Yorkshire puddings. Any Yorkshire pudding left over? Eat it covered in golden syrup if you have any space left. 

When you serve a roast dinner, don’t plate it up; put your plates and bowls of potatoes, vegetables and meat on the table for everyone to help themselves. It feels like more of a feast that way, and also means that you get to decide exactly how many roast potatoes you get. I hate having my roast potato quota dictated to me. Lastly, never make roast dinner just for yourself. It isn’t worth it, and frankly I can’t think of anything more depressing (who would you raise a toast with?)