They say it's what's on the inside that counts. I'm not so sure with lobster, although that is usually the kind of thing you say to an ugly child. A good, spicy, deep and rich bisque made with the ground shell and claws gets me more excited than the sweet flesh inside. And it's quite often the best thing to do with the cheaper and less wonderful ones that you may get from your backstreet fishmonger or supermarket freezer. The kind where the meat tastes and feels like it's just been ten rounds with Frank Bruno.I used one lobster to make this, but I often will have a bag of prawn carcasses in the freezer for such an occasion. Not this time though, as I've recently cleaned out the drawers, unearthing such things as a permafrozen woolly mammoth, a small choc-ice from 1984 and many, many loose peas.It's a good was to use up some of those sad looking celery stalks and the joke shop bendy carrots in the fridge drawer that have seen better days only to be left deflating behind the half lemons and sad lettuce. What nutrients they have left in them can be wrung out, along with the flavour in the lobster carcass and inner bits that remain.It's a really wonderful, powerful soup, absolutely full of flavour. I like mine with a little more of a Cayenne pepper kick than is strictly necessary. It's great with a little tarragon creme fraiche stirred through at the end and even nicer with a fat tortellini stuffed with crab meat and spring onion in the middle.One thing to be careful of when making this, is the claws are really hard work to blitz and you can easily break your blender blade, especially if you're using a stick blender, so after cooking it, try and smash them up a bit with the back of a knife into easier chunks and take your time. It's worth it.Ingredients 1 lobster shell, claws and inside bits after you've used the claw and tail meat1/2 fennel bulb, choppedA knob of ginger, chopped1 shallot, chopped1 carrot, chopped1 celery stick, chopped2tsp smoked paprikaA handful of uncooked basmati rice1tbsp ground cumin1tbsp ground coriander1 bay leaf1/2tsp ground cloves2tsp Cayenne pepper1tsp ground turmeric2tsp Swiss bouillon powderTarragon vinegar or white wine to deglaze the panA few tablespoons of double creamOlive oilSalt to seasonMethodHeat some olive oil in a deep, heavy-based pan and add the shell and vegetables. Stir well, roasting for a few minutes until things start to colour and stick a little.Deglaze the pan with the vinegar.Add the remaining ingredients, season and stir well. Cook for one minute.Cover all the ingredients with water and bring to the boil for ten minutes.Put the lid on, turn down the heat and simmer for 45 minutes-1 hourCarefully blitz until as smooth as possible, although I like mine with a little grittiness to it. I use a stick blender for this, but it's a pretty heavy duty one. The standard kitchen ones may not be able to cope. Use a food processor if necessary, and be careful.Strain the mix through a fine sieve and squeeze out as much liquid as possible.Taste and adjust the seasoning if necessary. Stir in the cream, garnish with a few strips of fennel and thyme and serve.
tarragon
Ooh, The Cheek Of It.
The slow change from vivid green to red, yellow, orange. And then how quickly the trees become bare and the glorious colours give way to brown and grey sludgy streets.In the seemingly few hours of daylight we have over the winter months we celebrate the warmth of the fireside. Scarves, gloves, hats and thick woolen jumpers wrapped around us keep us cosy when we venture outside, often leaving and returning home in the dark.I welcome the smells from the slow cooker more than any dog's wagging tail as a greeting. And here we are, only at the gentle tip of the cold months, yet it feels like it's the time for stews. Meat falling from bones into rich and thick broths, individual flavours combining like the instruments in an orchestra to create one symphony.A cast-iron pan with a lid in a very low oven does just as well as a slow cooker, and if you're happy leaving the oven on all day it's the perfect way to cook. However, you may not fancy chopping and browning chunks of meat while drinking your morning coffee and wondering why you have to ask the children twenty times to put a sock on. I have neither the time nor inclination, getting out of a warm bed is tragedy enough. In which case these are best done the night before, or on a weekend when you have a more leisurely start to the day.Of course white potatoes work just as well as the purple ones, which may be a little tricky to find; crushed Anyas would be a real treat. Whatever you use, nothing quite beats the deliciousness of all those juices soaked up by the buttery potatoes. This really is one of those meals that feels like you're back home in the warmth of the family.Tarragon adds a little last of the summer sparkle to the flavours, hinting with its warm aniseed at the comfort to come. If you don't have any, a good handful of chopped parsley running through would be just as nice.Ingredients500g ox cheek, cut into chunks1 onion, roughly choppedA thumb of ginger, chopped1tbsp oregano1tbsp flour1/2 a bulb of garlic1 red pepper, chopped2tbsp tomato purée500ml beef stockLarge pinch of dried mushroomsSalt and pepperPotatoes to serve, cooked and crushed with butter, spring onion and some shredded tarragon.MethodHeat a heavy sauté pan with some oil and sear the beef well until browned. Try not to smoke out the kitchen and set of the smoke alarms in a panicked succession as I did. And sear the meat in batches to avoid boiling rather than caramelising it.Add the flour and stir well, coating all the meat. This will help thicken the sauce. Add to the slow cooker or casserole. Deglaze the sauté pan with a little water or wine and add the juices along with the remaining ingredients.Cook on high for four hours or low for eight hours in the slow cooker, or eight hours in a very low oven. (140c. Gas mark 1) Serve with the potatoes and perhaps some broccoli or garlic green beans.
Artichoke with Vinaigrette
An unseemly noise for a teenager, let alone a human came from me when I first dipped the leathery leaf of an artichoke into a mustardy vinaigrette in Brasserie Le Linois, Place Charles Michels.Usually, it's difficult if not impossible to recreate those dishes from memories of the past in a foreign country. The smells, the sounds, the air all colour our memories and we are destined to be disappointed. But fear not! The artichoke doesn't suffer from this problem. It tastes the same to me now, dipped in that dressing as it did all those years ago.How does this happen I imagine myself hearing you ask? I have no idea, but being May, and them appearing in my greengrocer I'm not going to ask too many questions.You can cook them in simmering water, covered for 30-45 minutes depending on their size, or, if you are desperate for your hit, they do just as well in the microwave, wrapped in clingfilm for about ten. I prefer simmering them though, you can add aromatic flavours to the cooking water.To the water, add 2 fresh bay leaves, a tablespoon of peppercorns, a large splash of tarragon vinegar (or plain white wine vinegar if you prefer) and some salt. Bring the water and artichoke to the boil, then simmer until cooked, that is, when the leaves come away easily.Leave it to cool a little and eat slightly warm dipped in vinaigrette made by whisking together one tablespoon of Dijon mustard, a pinch of salt, two tablespoons of tarragon cider vinegar (or again, plain) then slowly incorporating about ten tablespoons of olive oil. Use less if you prefer a sharper dressing.Pull the leaves from the globe, dip them in and tease off the flesh into your mouth as you remember your long lost youth...