My Finest Hour

Sometimes, just occasionally, the combination of a few drinks and food preparation enable you to work magic. Often things just end up burnt, or undercooked, or as has happened on more than one occasion, abandoned completely after a collective decision to abandon ship. Just recently, I have been pushing the boundaries a bit. My kitchen boundaries that is. It is all too easy to get stuck in a rut where food is concerned. I read an article recently by Jay Rayner who extolled the virtues of cooking the same small number of dishes on repeat, in order that you know them inside out, can do them almost without thinking, and that they bring a sense of comfort and tradition etc.

I do agree. My quest for bolognaise perfection trundles on, I barely go a week these days without eating steak and chips at least once, and if there was a prize for avocado and prawn salad, I'd definitely come top three. However, in the kitchen as in life, sometimes it's good to be brave, flick through the cookbooks and decide to make something you never have before. Last weekend we did just that. We went off to Waitrose on Saturday afternoon looking for inspiration, and managed to get our hands on a Guernsey lobster and 8 HUGE and super fresh Guernsey scallops. I also picked up some vanilla pods, a bag of caster sugar, 6 eggs and a couple of pints of full fat milk.

Once we saw the shellfish I knew I had to make spaghetti. Garlic, tomatoes, lobster, scallops, parsley and spaghetti make perfect pan partners. The most satisfaction I got from this dish, other than the eating of course, was cleaning the Lobster (i.e. getting all of the meat out of it). It has been quite a long time since I did this last, and the last time I did, I had a crate of 60 to do. After a few hours my hands were so red and sore and raw and cold and cut, that I wouldn't have been sorry never to have seen one of the little red fuckers ever again. But, as they say, time is a great healer, and as I was in my own kitchen and didn't have an angry chef breathing down my neck, I was able to tackle this chap in my own time and at my own pace. The trick is all in the 'thwack', using  the back of a large knife at appropriate points (for the claws), and just having a large, sharp, heavy kitchen knife to split the back. In no time at all, I had shelled my lobster and had a pretty plate. Sometimes, I pretend in my head that I am presenter of my own TV. Can you tell? Here's one I prepared earlier...

Lobster, scallop, tomato and chilli spaghetti.

(feeds two, easily)

1 lobster, cooked and cleaned, cut into bite size pieces

8 scallops. Trimmed, roes and muscle separated.

1 carton creamed tomatoes, or 6 super ripe fresh tomatoes finely chopped.

2 cloves garlic, grated (if you don't have a Microplane grater GET ONE)

1 red onion, finely chopped.

1 fresh red chilli, finely chopped.

Handful flat leaf parsley, finely chopped.

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

150g(ish) spaghetti. Touch your thumb and forefinger together, and you want a bit less that can fit in the hole. Grow up.

Fill a large saucepan with plenty of water and a good handful of cheap salt. It would be nice to only use Maldon for everything, but I don't think it's worth it for cooking pasta. In a large deep sided saucepan (you will need to finish cooking the pasta in this so make sure it is big enough), heat some oil and gently fry the red onion, chilli and garlic until soft. Add the tomatoes and let it bubble away.

Heat a frying pan until smoking hot, slice the scallops in half (so you have two disks), pat dry, dab with a bit of oil, add to the pan, season, leave for 1 1/2 minutes and then turn and leave for 1 1/2 minutes, then remove onto a plate and put to one side. When all the scallop muscles have been seared (you want them to be nicely caramelised, but not cooked all the way through), add the scallop roes to the pan and cook for three minutes, shaking the pan every now and then. Remove and put to one side. Add the spaghetti to the now boiling water and half cook. Lift the spaghetti out of the water and into the tomato pan, and add a couple of ladle's of water. 

Turn the heat up under the tomato pan and continue cooking the pasta until it is as you like it (hopefully al dente). Ensure it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pan, and if it starts to look a bit dry add more pasta water. When the pasta is cooked just right and the sauce is the right consistency (not too thick or too wet, you know what you like, again, GROW UP), add the lobster and the scallops and the parsley to the pasta, take off the heat, give it a stir, stand for a minute, and serve with a bit of parsley to scattered over the top so it looks pretty. Keep well away from Parmesan cheese, and eat by candle light with a nice light red and someone you're in love with (it tastes much better that way).

After the success of the spaghetti, I had it in my head that I was kitchen invincible, and decided to (for the first time) make one of my favourite puddings: Iles Flottantes (floating islands). I think that this is the perfect pudding for a number of reasons. 1. It is stupidly simple in that it has very few ingredients. 2. It is devilishly complicated because there are so many things to go wrong, so when you get it right it makes you feel like a hero. 3. It is unbelievably light and at the same time rich and decadent, and finally 4. It is a French classic, and whenever I master one of these, it makes me very happy. The pastry God's smiled down on me, as my meringue was perfect (I only used egg white and sugar, no lemon juice), I cooked the crème anglaise to just the right point so it was double cream thickness and totally smooth, and I managed to make caramel. Perfectly. So much so that I was able to make some sugar run offs to decorate. So proud of myself was I, that we opened the bottle of Tokaji I put in the fridge a few hours earlier 'just in case'. I think Diesel enjoyed it as much as me, although I can't be sure as I was having so much fun myself I wasn't paying much attention to anything else.

Iles Flottantes (taken from Michel Roux 'Eggs')

Meringue

1 Litre whole milk.

190g Caster sugar

6 Medium egg whites

Creme Anglaise

500ml Whole milk

125g Caster sugar

1 Vanilla pod, split lengthways

6 egg yolks

Caramel

200g Caster sugar

Heat the milk and 50g of the sugar in a wide shallow pan until it comes to boiling point. Once it has reached this, turn the temperature down and maintain it at just below simmering point.

Beat the egg whites to a thick foam and shower in the sugar (heat the sugar a bit first if you can, it helps for some reason) and beat until you have firm peaks. I can't tell you how much easier this is if you have a Kitchen Aid or similar. If you don't, an electric whisk will give you the same results but take more time, and if you're going back to basics and whisking by hand, all I'll say is that I hope you've been eating your spinach.

A proven way to test whether it is ready or not is to turn the bowl upside down. If it doesn't fall out, it's ready. Using a large metal spoon, lift out a large spoonful of the meringue and shape into a dome on the spoon with a pallet knife. Dip the spoon in the hot milk, and the meringue should slide off (if it doesn't, just give it a bit of help with the pallet knife). Rinse the spoon immediately, and repeat with the rest of the meringue. If you run out of room in the pan just poach them in a few batches. Poach for two minutes and then turn and poach for a further two minutes. Once finished lift out of the pan with a skimmer onto a tea towel to drain, and then onto a lightly oiled plate, cover with cling film and put in the fridge.

To make the crème anglaise, put the milk in a saucepan with 2/3 of the sugar, add the vanilla pod and bring to the boil over a medium heat (make sure you mix it at first until the sugar is dissolved or you run the risk of the sugar sticking to the bottom of the pan). In a separate bowl whisk the egg yolks with the remaining sugar until much lighter in colour and at a light ribbon consistency (about as thick as extra thick double cream). Slowly pour the milk on to the egg yolks, whisking continuously. Clean and dry the pan you've just used, and return the mixture to it. Over a very gentle heat, stir with a wooden spoon. As soon as the custard starts to thicken take off the heat. A few seconds can be the difference between custard and scrambled eggs. Remove the vanilla pod. If you're unsure just keep moving the pan on and off the heat. Remember it will thicken on cooling. Put in the fridge.

Once the crème anglaise has cooled, spoon into bowls. In each bowl add a meringue. For the caramel, heat in a heavy based pan the 200g sugar until a light golden colour. Keep a bowl filled with iced water next to the stove so you can dip the pan into it to prevent the caramel overcooking once it is the right colour. When you are happy, drizzle over the meringues, and then over some greaseproof paper to create some sugar run offs to decorate. Once cooled, stick in the meringue and serve. Heaven.