Crowd saucing salt beef

What with hailing from the shtetl (a century or so ago), perhaps my love of salt beef can be attributed to genes, or Proust.  Maybe it's just that it's very tasty when done well.  Whatever, it is one of my favourite comfort foods.  The simple thought of it makes me happy. 

It is easiest, and therefore, best cooked in large hunks, it therefore rewards the greedy or generous.  It has to be cooked for a long period, so no item of clothing or furniture lacks the telling whiff of bay, pepper and meat. 

When you finally get to eat it, your taste buds have spent the last three hours limbering up as the smell of the dish permeates the house.  As the lid is lifted off the pot you're hit with an intense waft of meaty steam.  Then out comes a glistening hunk of fatty meat.  And then the real anticipation begins.  Not just of taste, but of the cut.  Has it cooked for the right amount of time?  Are you about to get a stringy mass of meat, or lithe slices? 

And what of the taste?  Umami and a hint of salt are all you need to worry about. 

It should be self evident why I decided I really needed to turn my hand to brining and cooking the dish for myself. 

Which brings me neatly on to my first experiment and my recipe below.  Let's start at the end.  I was deeply disappointed with what I made.  It was overly salty and pretty darn tough.

The best I can say is that before carving or tasting it, I had immense satisfaction lifting it out of the pot and knowing I pickled the bugger.  It's just what came next that deflated my smugness.

Before we progress, a word about the beef.  Mine was from the blade end.  It was quite fatty and I didn't trim it.  I wonder if this is the source of error.  I'd thought that by leaving it on it would make it even more moist.  I wonder if in fact it made the meat tougher by contracting rather than relaxing the meat.  Is this bollocks?  Is it possible to have too much fat when boiling meat?

I should add for the assumption-jumpers reading this that of course I removed the fat before eating it.

So, I post this recipe here as a starting point.  It is an aide memoire for me.  I'm going to make this again and want to remember what I did first time round.  More importantly, I'm posting it here because I'd like to get your thoughts on where I went wrong.

The recipe I used was largely based on Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall's in the excellent Meat.  Unfortunately, many of my cookbooks are still in storage and I was unable to dig out Arthur Schwartz's Jewish Home Cooking: Yiddish Recipes Revisited, I'm certain there must be a recipe in there.  I triangulated HFW's recipe with others I found on the internet and by scouring recipes in as many books as I could get my hands on.  The tweaks are minor - I didn't use juniper berries, he recommends them and the like.

So, in this instance more than any other I'd be delighted to get your thoughts on where I went wrong and how to ensure the salt beef of my dreams.

For the salting/brining

• 3kg brisket
• 5L water
• 500g demerera sugar
• 1.5kg salt
• 1 tsp black peppercorns
• 5 cloves
• 4 bay leaves
• 30g saltpetre

You will also need a large non-metallic container to hold the beef whilst it's brining.

Cooking the beef

• 2 bay leaves
• Bunch of thyme
• 1 carrot, chopped
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 celery stick, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic

To salt the beef

Day 1: 3kg of brisket

Put all the ingredients for the brine in a pan and bring to the boil.  The salt and sugar will dissolve.  Remove from the heat and allow to cool completely.  And remember that means completely.  Unless you want to get on first name terms with your local A&E team, you don't want your beef cooked in tepid water for the thick end of a week.  So let it cool down.

Once the brine is cool (got it, cool) put the beef into your container and cover with the brine.  You may need to weigh down the meat to stop it floating in the brine.  I used a couple of small Le Creuset dishes as you can see in my Bailey-esque photos.

Day 1: The meat just after it has gone in the brine

Day 1: The meat in brine

My 3kg of meat spent 5 days in the brine. 

As per HFW's instructions I left the brining meat in a cool room.  However, I have to admit that three days in I got cold feet and, as this was due to feed a large proportion of my nearest and dearest, I did put it in the fridge.  I knew this would slow the brining process - perhaps that was why it was so tough?  But then again, would it have been even saltier if I'd let it brine at room temperature?

Throughout the brining I checked on it regularly and over the days the beef clearly changed colour and throughout it smelt very good - spicy and of cloves.

Day 5: The meat shortly before it comes out of the brine (the weird circular indent is the mark left by something that was weighing it down)

I removed it from the brine five days after putting it in.  I had expected the meat to be quite soft, instead it was much firmer than I expected.  In my notes I wrote that it was very firm.  I did get slightly concerned at this point.  I've cooked pre-brined salt beef numerous times and that had attuned my expectations, I don't remember it being quite so stiff.  Again, my unscientific mind wondered whether the copious fat had played a part, perhaps too much of it resulted in the whole brisket toughening up in the salty brine?

The meat was also browner than I had expected. I wonder if I didn't use enough saltpetre. 

Day 5: The meat out of the brine

Nonetheless I was hopeful as I rinsed it under the tap - it was very slippery so hold tight - and then soaked it in fresh cold water for 24 hours.  I think over that period I changed the water three times.  The meat shouldn't float in this water - it's no longer chilling in the Dead Sea.

Day 5: The meat in clean, fresh water

Now comes the cooking.  Put the beef in a pot with herbs and vegetables and cover with fresh water.  As I always do, I cooked it on a low heat on the hob for approximately 3 hours.  You want it to be a rolling boil and by that I mean: the water's gently bubbling rather than furiously splashing.

And that's it.  The cooking bit I've done before and never had a problem.  This was a disaster and I'd love to know the reasons.  Did I simply not cook it long enough?  Was the brine mix wrong? Was there too much fat? Was it a mistake wimping out and putting it in the fridge?

I want to crack this, so am hoping to give it another go shortly.  Any further thoughts before then are gratefully received.

Latkes in Covent Garden

Last week's latkes were sensational.  I have it on good authority that this week's are set to be an improvement. 

To the uninintiated a latke is a food that deserves due reverence.  To dismiss it as a bit of fried potato, onion and egg is to misunderstand the alchemy that occurs when those three ingredients are combined, salt is added and they're deep fried to a crisp puck.

The University of Chicago is the home of some of the greatest (/most controversial) economists of our time.  It is also home of the annual Latke vs Hamantaschen debate.  You don't need to worry about what Hamantaschen are, but suffice to say latkes are the clear winners, however obscure the debate gets.

Chanukah starts this Friday, and as I mentioned last week, we tend to eat fried foods on Chanukah and that means eating latkes.

Which is why Dan Young of Young and Foodish is not only freezing his tuches off in Covent Garden this Thursday and Friday, but will also be lighting chanukkah candles on Friday at 4pm.  I'll overlook the minor issue that he'll be lighting candles once Shabbat has come in and instead focus on the fact that he's a mensch.

Fress and be merry.

Getting your branding right

One minute I was reminded of some of the best ads of the last decade.  My personal favourite is the Honda cogs.  A great director and a shed load of money can be a wonderful mix for a brand.

Within minutes of seeing them, I saw this video from Henrietta Lovell, The Rare Tea Lady, and you realise that with imagination and a camera the internet lets you do great advertising on what I'm assuming is a shoestring budget. 

It has to be the case that in many ways the internet hasn't changed things for food companies - or anyone selling any product - marketing is absolutely crucial.  The internet has simply democratised it.  But, as ever with democracy comes responsibility.  Because if Henrietta had ballsed this up, her brand would have been badly damaged and the wonder of the internet means it's not easily forgotten.  Ask Neals Yard Remedies.

I think other high end food / drink producers could learn a lot from her marketing savvy.  It's not luck that she has a great product and a great reputation.  If she doesn't already do it, she should go into consultancy.

BTW I agree with the psycho-looking tattooist, jasmine silver tip is sublime.

David Sax podcast

As flagged yesterday, I got to speak to David Sax tonight and you can listen to the podcast below. 

He is undoubtedly committed to the cause of saving the deli and his recipe isn't so complex: stick to doing the basics of deli food and do it better than anyone else.  Whether that is sufficient to overcome the almost non-existent margins in serving sandwiches stuffed a foot high with expensive meat, is questionable.

Nonetheless, it's tempting to give it a go.  Which is why I want to make special mention of Daniel Young, a man similarly on a mission who will be selling freshly made latkes tomorrow at Covent Garden Market.  He's a mensch, go and support him.

Returning to my interview with David, I should apologise to him and you for the pretty piss-poor sound quality.  Blame Skype.  Next time I won't do a skype-to-skype call for these purposes.  Thankfully though he sounds better than I do.

Forthcoming podcast with David Sax, Save the Deli

I'm interviewing David Sax tomorrow, author of Save the Deli, the blog and book. 

He is a man posessed by the delights of pastramis, knishes, kishkas and the like.  He is a man who can spot the best schmaltz at a 100 yards and have talmudic discussions about the best rub for pastrami. 

I hadn't fully appreciated what a US phenomenon deli actually is.  It is about old world, Eastern European Jewish cooking rather than kosher food per se, an important distinction and one I want to talk to him about more tomorrow.

I've found his single-minded crusade fascinating and sobering.  I've long held a dream of opening up a deli and his account is a helpful reality check.

Related articles by Zemanta

• One-man fight to save Jewish delis (thejc.com)
• Scene @ David Sax's Save the Deli Party (mediabistro.com)

It's holid-a-a-a-a-y time

We are entering what is euphemistically called the 'holiday season'.  That period when we are too afraid to insult others by pointing out what we'll be doing during the month of December.  So being Jewish, it goes without saying I'd be horrified if anyone acknowledged that December 25th was Christmas, and similarly any Christians out there don't need to worry about the signficance of the eight days of Chanukah, and all of us can do as we did last year and turn to Google to remind ourselves what Kwanzaa is.  If I've missed out any holidays, do forgive me, I blame a combination of my ignorance and lack of political correctedness.

Nonetheless, whichever way you cut it, there be food and gifts in many of our immediate futures.

Because I assume there are others out there as ignorant as me, here is a quick summary of Chanukah: it is a celebration of light.  It commemorates the re-dedication of the Temple and the miracle that the Neir Tamid - the eternal flame - in the Temple stayed alight for eight days. 

But as I say, most people don't really care about the history, they want to know how we celebrate.  So the answer is with a bit of singing, but most importantly eating fried things, sfuganyot (doughnuts) are a particular favourite and giving gifts.  And as there are eight nights, tradition has it that you give gifts on each of those eight.

So, for those of you looking to give gifts to your foodie loving friends here are my top 8 recommendations for gifts:

1. A subscription to Fire & Knives.  The first edition has just been published and it promises to be one of the more exciting developments in food writing.  Beautifully presented and packed full of articles from those you will have heard of and some you won't.  I was swiftly reminded that there is something visceral about the printed word that is sadly lacking from pixels on a screen.
2. To continue the theme of the printed word, the cookbook I was both most pleased and saddest to see this year was the re-print of Floyd on Food.  The death of Keith Floyd was a sad moment, but this slim tome is a reminder of why so many of us held him in such affection.
3. Last year I waxed lyrical about The Big Fat Duck Cookbook.  This year, they brought out the slimmer The Fat Duck Cookbook.  It's the same content but not with all the artsy fartsy presentation (which I still think was worth the money) which means that at current Amazon prices that is £19.21 against £78.94.
4. Because this is Chanukah, we need a bit of a Jewish theme.  David Sax's Save the Deli, based on his excellent blog, has just been published.  It's a social history of Jews, primarily in the US told through the medium of meat.
5. But of course, David Sax is actually talking about Ashkenazi food because there is no such thing as Jewish food in the same way there is no such thing as Indian food.  Geography is everything as Mama Nazima's Jewish Iraqi Cuisine reminds us.  It's not necessarily the most accessible of books, but it is a fascinating read into a dying culture.
6. You'll need to be on your toes for all this reading so caffeine is a must.  You can't do better than a six or twelve month subscription from Square Mile Coffee Roasters.  You'll get some of the best coffees there are delivered to your door (or that of your loved one) every month.
7. Whilst we're on the topic of hot drinks, it wouldn't be very British of me if I didn't mention tea.  And when I do mention tea the only person worth talking about is the Rare Tea Lady, Henrietta Lovell.   One of her finest offerings is the Jasmine Silver Tip, very possibly the best way to relax with your clothes on (or off, I suppose). 
8. It wouldn't be a holiday without a bit of tipple and the drink of choice for so many of my brethren is whiskey - to do with laws on wine - and it doesn't come much better than Compass Box.  They're not easy to find, but they are worth digging out.  Although I'm not a Laphroaig fan The Peat Monster is pretty special.

Happy holidays one and all.

Books (and a newspaper) to put a smile on your face

I can't get enough of having a good time at the moment.  That could be because things are a bit crappy and I'm built to have a good time, so like some crazed compass needle, I'm seeking my due north.

It could also be simply that having fun is so much more enjoyable than being a miserable sod.

I never cease to be amazed at how many people who 'enjoy their food' are thoroughly miserable when it comes to food.  They treat food as a mountain they must conquer.  Their faces are stern, their chins set.  They tend towards argument and introspection.  Not enjoying a damn good meal.

The untimely death of Keith Floyd has resulted in the loss of a man with an obvious love of what he did.  Simon Hopkinson is clearly cut from similar cloth.  It was therefore a delight that in this rather rubbish week Simon's new book The Vegetarian Option and a re-print of Floyd's Food should land on my mat courtesy of their respective publishers.

Reading their books in bed the other night I was reminded that I love food because I love it, by that I mean I get great enjoyment from cooking it, eating it, shopping for it, talking about it, even washing it up.  It's fun.

Sometimes it's not though.  As someone who keeps kosher I'm all too often relegated to the vegetarian section of the menu - and it is a relegation - it's a place you really don't want to explore.  Hopkinson makes me hopeful that others will get as excited by veggies as he clearly is. 

I challenge you not to swoon at Boiled onions with poached egg & Lancashire cheese.  If for a moment you dare think it sounds anything less than sublime, go to your local bookshop and take a look at the photo on page 73.  It's only a matter of days until I'll be feeding the family Cheese-crusted fried parsnip strips with romesco sauce and if this chilly weather is here to last the only pumpkin carving I'll be doing is to make Pumpkin soup 'Paul Bocuse'.  I might not have been tempted by Gratin of chicory with mustard sauce had it not been for Simon's closing words on the recipe "Rich, I believe, might be the word, here."

Don't be fooled that this is just a book about what to do with the bits of the veg box you get flummoxed by - try the Riverford book for that - it is a book that will make you cook better and in many ways is very classic.  His analysis of how to use agar-agar is one example of that, as his reminder of what a real Caesar salad is.

Cookbooks don't get much more classic than Floyd's Food.  Yes Absolute did do a quick print job following his death, but let's not be cynical.  It's a very good book.  It may lack the slick production and photos of The Vegetarian Option but it is the antithesis of the big cookbook.

Floyd like Hopkinson is not one to mince his words.  His instructions for Salade Nicoise are limited to "Whack the lot into a salad bowl and eat it."  His helpful tips for chip making include "You can do this hours before you intend to use them, that way avoiding the panic while you are making the bearnaise and everybody is getting sozzled in the garden."  I was rather surprised to see one ingredient in Watercress Express is instant potato mix, but because it's Floyd and was first printed in 1981, I'll let him off.  (Yes you're right, I will never forgive Delia for similar shortcuts, but this is my blog and I'll be as hypocritical as I like.)

Despite this aberration, I can't recommend either book highly enough.  They're great reminders about the sheer pleasure of food.  They may not be the best if you like to follow recipes like a religion.  If you're happy with the ebb and flow of the kitchen then purchase them in the knowledge you'll be in for a good time.

Speaking of good times, I had an all too brief drink last night at Mark's Bar for the launch of Galley Slave.  It's a freesheet edited by Joe Warwick, formerly of Restaurant magazine and briefly The Napkin Sniffer. 

It's very much focused at the London restaurant scene and is intended for those in the business.  But with a tag line of "Putting the wind up the London restaurant scene" and columns entitled  'Blog Standards' and 'Galley Chumps' a restaurant critic version of Top Trumps - genius - it is likely to become required reading for us obsessives as well.