Cured and Beeten Salmon

As served in work.



Cure mix.



You may be relieved to know that after the last post I took a deep breath, counted to ten and was fully ready to shake off that week and start anew with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. Then that crowd up North had their mid-term which was immediately followed by our own national one, creating a proverbial DP of chaos. 'Well sure isn't it good that you're busy' you might say. Only for me to reply that yes, it is good that in the middle of February we're packing them in like Tom Cruise in a fudge factory, but when the result is me being unable to take a break throughout the duration (which in turn meant 24 hours between meals, five days in a row) that smile has now become a firm grimace sitting below two sunken eyes. And the song has switched from 'Mr Blue Sky' to this and this.





Today is pancake day but I'm not posting anything related. My bad, but were it not for a Facebook post from my house mate saying, 'Here, gay lad. Yer makin me pancakes today. I'm finished at half 5.' I wouldn't have bothered. Instead, you get a post about the process of curing fish. I know, but that's life and life has it's disappointments. Take it from someone who owns the Noma cookbook.



Packing on the cure.



This dish came about from no other influence than me just being curious and wanting to try something out. Ten days later its goodbye to our deconstructed Prawn Cocktail and hello to Homemade Beetroot-cured Salmon. The process of curing is an ancient method of preserving meat and fish by coating in a salt/sugar mixture for a period of time. This draws out moisture, sterilises the meat and slows the oxidation process. It's also the process that creates Bacon, Salami, Chorizo and Parma Ham. (thank you Wilkipedia!) Over the years I began noticing the trend of coating fish with grated beetroot as it cured to 'stain' the meat and I knew it was one of those things that I had to try. So after some funny looks from Chef, I was granted a side of Salmon to try it out. Worked like gangbusters. It looks cool and tastes awesome. Rather than being just a colouring agent, the beetroot actually lends a sweet earthy-ness. Even the German was impressed and he calls Salmon, 'Za pig of za sea'. And while it may seem like an ordeal to make and you'll need to clear a pretty large space in your fridge, it's actually embarrassingly straightforward and also will last for well over a week and freezes fine.

Beetroot - Cured Salmon, serves lots

1 side of fresh Salmon, skin on

175g Caster sugar

135g Sea salt

2-3 tbsp of black peppercorns

1 decent sprig of rosemary or thyme or both

2-3 oranges

3-4 raw beetroot





48 hours later


1. Check the Salmon for bones.
2. Place the sugar, salt, peppercorns, herbs, the zest from all the oranges but the juice from only half of them in a food processor.
3. Blitz from approx 10-20 seconds.
4. Peel the beetroot and grate finely.
5. Lay a sheet of cling film over a shallow tray large enough for the fish.
6. Place the Salmon skin-side down, take the cure mix and pack onto the fish. You want to be sure that it's evenly and entirely covered.
7. Take the grated beetroot and do the same.
8. Place another sheet of cling film over the fish, put another tray on top. Weight down with tins, bags of flour, family pets or whatever you have to hand.
9. Leave in the fridge. Take out after 24 hours, you'll find that there's a load of water in the tray. This is normal, drain off and return to the fridge for another 24 hours.
10. Remove, drain and wash off the beetroot/cure mix. Pat dry and slice as thinly as possible.

Okay fine, mark this one for next year. Recipe taken from my DCS folder:

100g plain flour

30g caster sugar

60g butter, melted

2 eggs

pinch of salt

200ml milk

zest of two oranges

Using a stick blender, blend the flour, sugar, butter and eggs until smooth. Add the milk slowly while blending to prevent lumps. Stir in orange zest. When smooth let sit for a half hour at room temperature.

Heat a frying pan on a high heat. Fold up a piece of kitchen paper. Hold over a bottle of sunflower oil and turn upside down to damp the paper. Wipe this around the pan.

Think you can take it from here?

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Valentine’s Day: A retrospective from a professional perspective.



Best of the best: Seared scallops with tomato tartlet and basil vinaigrette.



Obviously I would have preferred to post this sooner, perhaps at a time when it may have had some kind of relevance. But given how this past week has been, this is the best I could do. A phrase that to my ex is pretty much a catchphrase. It was a tough week in the restaurant. Last Saturday’s (12th Feb) service was an endless slog. There are evenings in a kitchen that are relentless. The first docket comes in at five minutes after opening and the printer keeps on churning them out right up to last orders, four hours later. The kind of service where it feels like someone’s holding your head underwater and just as you think you’re about to get a moment to catch your breath it’s, ‘CLICK-SCREECH, CLICK-SCREECH, CLICK-SCREECH’ three more tables of two have just come in. The next day the guys and I were talking and nearly all of us said that when we finally got to bed and closed our eyes we could almost still hear the printer churning in the background. As for Monday (the 14th), that was an interesting one.

We’re a hotel so regards to the restaurant nearly 90% of our customers are guests that are staying. So given the day the hotel was pretty quiet. On Sunday night the bookings for the next night were just eight. Around lunchtime on Monday that was up to eighteen. We laughed and joked, ‘Tough one tonight lads, haha!’ Five minutes to opening we’d gained twenty-five bookings. Hmm, we thought. So a bit busier then we expected, nothing to panic about. Then service began and about an hour in we noticed we had five-six tables in. There were main courses waiting on the pass and I had starters and deserts awaiting pick-up. This would be fine were it not that there was not a waiter to be found. On this night there were about four-five wait staff on, which to my mind would be enough if we were expecting over eighty, so where the fuck were they? ‘Anna, Sarah, Davie, you have mains for tables 21, 33 and 4.’ Would be barked when occasionally one would rush into the kitchen, and with a panicked look, grab a bottle of mineral water or some more bread for a table and rush back out again. Turns out reservations had the bright idea to clump nearly all the table into the space of an hour and half. All those people arriving at once did not fit our server’s standard protocol of total ass-kissery. Meaning they actually had to work quickly instead of listening to the entire family history of table 12 in the hope they’d be rewarded with an extra two quid with the service charge. Did we in the kitchen sympathize? Did we feck! I was working through a block of about two two’s and a four top. I had it laid out and getting ready so I was going to get it out in time. The German then entered my station, looked at the dockets and started to assist with the plating. ‘Actually dude I’m fine here, seriously.’ He shakes his head. ‘I know but vee shoot this out as quick as vee can. If they’re going to give us eight tables at once, they need to pick up eight tables at once.’ He then nodded to the lone waiter polishing a glass as the fish for table 8 overcooks under the hot lamps and lowered his voice, ‘So I vant to fuck zem.’ And if that seems a bit harsh and unnecessary all I can say is, you should see him at Christmas. Final count at the end of the night was sixty-eight covers



Location: Weedsville. Population: You!



Overall food-wise it meant putting some new things on the menu. My favorite is pictured top: Seared scallops with tomato tartlet, rocket and basil vinaigrette. Half some cherry tomatoes, marinade in thyme, oil, salt and pepper. Butter a dish and arrange five-seven halves face down. Place a disk of puff pastry over them like you would for a tart tatin and bake. The vinaigrette is just chopped basil blitzed with lemon juice and zest, garlic and oil drained from sun-dried tomatoes. Sear scallops for about one – one and a half minutes on each side. Serve as above, caviar optional. By the way that dish pictured was just a mock-up, hence why the tart’s gotta little char on it. The dish itself was light, fresh and in my opinion probably the best starter we’ve had. The tart on its own was a winner. So much so that this Saturday gone we ran it as a vegetarian special. We simply replaced the scallops and caviar with parmesan shavings and pine nuts. Despite the berating by the German sous that it didn’t look substantial enough (‘Zere is no fucking vay I vould pay nine quid for that!’) But the customers thought it was ace. So for not the first I get to say to my boss, in your face Hans! Now that the only contribution I can make at this point involving food is done. You may now leave and go about your evening. If you want to stick around however, here’s my personal summing up of Valentine’s Day:

Valentine's Day, oh how I loathe thee. And I know that sounds bitter and dejected and even somewhat juvenile. But really when you think about it there's very few holidays in the entire year, that's celebrated by any other culture, that is as contrived and alienating as this Godforsaken mush-fest is. And I'm not just saying this because this year it was dinner for one (a frozen pizza, eaten at 00:10 am, after a ten hour shift) But even if I actually had plans, that didn't involve taking a sizeable chunk out of my monthly download limit, there's still something kinda messed up about the whole concept of this holiday. Let's get hypothetical; there are other holidays that are more geared to a specific people. Paddy's day means nothing to a Korean IT student and Thanksgiving passes by unnoticed over here. I mean I'm not being rude but I honestly don't know what date it's on, its November isn't it? But should I find myself at an American family’s dining table on that date then I would like to think I would be welcomed into the traditions and values that the holiday represents. Likewise if young Hyun-Ki (didn't make it up, it means 'wise') woke up in my flat on March 17th, I would equally bring him into the fold as to how this day is to be spent as I made him breakfast. Breakfast being two cans of Guinness consumed before 11am. Yet unless you've someone to share this day with, exactly how the fuck are you supposed to spend it? Apart from being reminded that, oh wait, you don't. I think this whole situation would be remedied if there was another holiday celebrated in and around the same time that could only be appreciated by singles. Something like, 'Knob-jokes and Beer Day' or 'Strip club Appreciation Week'. To sum up, think about it, you wouldn't have a holiday called, 'My two legs work just fine thank you.' and is spent skipping merrily past people in wheelchairs.

Last year did nothing to endear me to this day. I was in work, of course, and just as the tempo was starting to pick and up and things were beginning to get a bit tenser. The phone in the kitchen rang, it's for me. 'Alright man, how's things?' I sigh 'What is it?' it’s a commis, young lad not even 19 with a tendency to wreck the head. He has the night off and hasn't shut up the days previous about this young 'wan' he was going to be meeting up with. 'Just eh, what's the recipe for that chocolate mousse you were trying out the other day?' 'I dunno dude, I don't have the exact measurements with me and we're kinda starting to get busy here and. . . ' 'Any chance you could just give it to me just like, off the top of your head' he then lowers his voice to a secretive whisper, 'She's going to be over in an hour or so, is there any chance man?' I sigh wearily, 'Okay it's about this and that and this. You then take that and those makea a thing and add this and do that.' 'Sound man, cheers. Appreciate it man.' I hang up and return to the brewing shitstorm that’s begun to take shape. The next day he comes in and without word or reason just marches straight up to me and locks me into a sincere, almost brotherly, embrace. 'Mousse work then?' I ask. 'Aw man, wait till I tell ya.' 'You know, I really don't want to know.' 'I got the can of whipped cream and I sprayed it on her. . .' 'I SAID, I'm good with the details.' Because it's one thing to know that there are other people getting some when you aren't. But knowing that someone got their jollies on account of YOUR recipe. Well then, thank you world!

Not surprisingly when the whole deal came round I decided to forgo anything to do with it. As to post anything related, given my attitude, would be akin to requesting a dissertation on the virtues of modesty from Kanye West. So let the records show, that for the season of Valentine’s 2011, my contribution to the blogsphere was a 600 word rant and a curry recipe. Perhaps next year I’ll even it out with a flower arrangement, a recipe for chocolate fondant and in the text hide a link to a picture of a puppy wearing a red bow with the words, ‘Wuv U!’ stitched into it (the bow that is, not the puppy).

Miss me? (Chicken, Chickpea and Pea Curry)

Yes, I know, it's been awhile. But the reality that you should all be aware of by now is my job is one where, to me, free time is as precious and rare a commodity as a listenable Justin Bieber song. But with the week that it's been and the workload required for our Valentine's day menu I've been spending so much time in work, that I'm one step away from just curling up in the prep kitchen with a sleeping bag at the end of the each night. So I apologies if the veg patch that is my blog has sprouted a few weeds and started smelling faintly of cat piss.

The result of which is my kitchen at home has been receiving as much attention as the fruit bowl in the Cowen household. So while the entire blogsphere has been clambering over itself to deliver their take on what they intend to dish up on the day of Val. I’ve been solely focused on overcoming one restaurant-related headache after another. So attempting to post anything related to this holiday is akin to requesting a dissertation on the virtues of modesty from Kanye West. But now the dust has nearly settled (we’re still running our special menu this weekend) I find the only thing I’ve to offer is the one meal I’ve cooked for myself in the past eight days that wasn’t ordered in or came from a frozen box (Oh Green Isle’s Gigantic pizza, don’t ever change!)

But the one meal I made is a demonstration of a piece of advice that is integral to been a better cook. In short, I'm feeling generous this week. Perhaps the hours have resulted in a fatigue-induced lobotomy, but I feel like sharing something with you all. Some advice, that if you've any interest in feeding yourself beyond ready-meals and potato waffle sandwiches, might help actually help you. This advice could be summed up in a one word. A word that applies to and encapsulates everything involved in cookery. It is a word that whether it be students in a grubby bed-sit with a copy of 'Jamie's 30-Minute meals', or amongst the brigades of the most avant-garde, pyrotechnical three-star kitchens of Paris, New York or Tokyo, holds just as equal relevance and importance. The word; technique. My advice; that if you want to be better cook, concentrate on learning techniques, not recipes. Now, considering that on the face of it techniques are, essentially, recipes I wouldn't be surprised if the following didn't come off slightly convoluted but I'll explain as best as I can. Also bear in mind that I'm so very, very tired.

You see, nearly every action or process you undertake in a kitchen, be it cooking cheese on toast, sweating onions, making a salad dressing or preparing a 'torchon' of foie gras (don't expect a post on that anytime soon), are all the implication of a technique. Some more complex and difficult then others but the notion is the same. The difference between them and what is commonly conceived as a 'recipe' is that they are not specific to a dish. What I've always dug about Jamie Oliver, as much as it pains me to say it, is that he's one of the few mainstream cookbook writers who've grasped and applied the concept of not just teaching someone a dish, but teaching them a means to creating their own. Best example I can think of was in his book 'Cook with. . .' which was laid out in a way that the a chapter would begin with a base method, for say, pasta or gnocchi. And then the following recipes were ways in which that could be implied. That's essentially the distinction I'm trying to make. Learning the base of one thing, but using that as a starting point. An endless path of adaptation and altering to your own palate.

Let’s take one of the simplest such bases in a kitchen: a vinaigrette or dressing for salad, one part acid mixed to 3-4 parts oil. Google ‘salad dressing recipes’ and you’ll get near seven million results, and even if there are millions of dressing recipes out there I can tell you that at least most of will have the above at their core. So here I’ve made a curry. But I’ve posted a curry before and on the surface they seem pretty different but at their core in essence, is a method of making curry. Before I used just rice and peas, because it’s all it had. This time I’ve used chicken, chick peas, and mushrooms, because at the time it was all I had. So if you’re making this and you’d didn’t have any of those and instead had just a load of veg, or instead of chicken had lamb or even fish, with the method as a guide it’d still be ace.

After all, we all remember the Oxfam ad, 'Give a socially inept, World of Warcraft hooked, college student a Dominos Pizza and he'll be able to feed himself for the evening. But give him two slice pans of bread, a block of cheese, a tub of Ballymoley Relish and a George Foreman grill and you give him the means to feed himself for a week.' Although if cheese toasties are your sole meal for seven days straight, self-satisfaction aside, few could argue that this is an improvement.

Chicken, Chickpea and Pea Curry:

The method and quantities are near identical to this. But as I’ve said, that’s kinda the point. Amounts are per person:

1 onion

3 medium cloves of garlic

2-3 mushrooms

2 tbsp vegetable oil

1 tsp coriander seeds

3 whole cloves

1 tsp fennel seeds

4-6 cardamom pods

1 tsp tomato puree

1 tsp ground coriander

1 tsp ground cumin

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1 tsp tumeric

1 tbsp gara masala

½ tbsp chilli powder

1 diced chicken leg, de-boned. Thigh meat or even breast can be used.

1 spring onion

½ tin chickpeas

1 cup of frozen peas

1tbsp of cold butter

salt and black pepper for seasoning

1. Lightly fry the whole spices/seeds in a pan with a little oil.
2. Add onion, garlic and mushrooms and sweat for a few minutes.
3. Stir in ground spices, then add tomato puree and about a cup of water.
4. Add diced chicken; simmer for about 4-6 minutes.
5. Drain chickpeas and stir in.
6. When the chickpeas are warm add in peas and butter in bring back up temperature. Add spring onions and serve.

Steak + Bread = Awesome!

Mathematics was never my strong point in school. To the extent I can say with a weird sense of achievement that for the entirety of fifth year (for those reading across the pond that's the second-last year of high school. . . . .also there's a 'u' in colour) I, without exception, failed every single test. In one rather spectacular moment of ineptness I was put in detention, after one where the only marks my teacher could award me were that I'd managed to correctly spell my name. But as I'm and lefty (and damn proud!) and have the writing of an angry 10 year old, even that was put under scrutiny. The ironic footnote to this is that I changed teachers in sixth year where, lo and behold I became one of the top students. And while I can't say that the subject has made a direct impact on my day to day life. You find that life contains numerous simplistic equations that you learn and live by. For example, if x = work and y = coffee:  x - y = Hell! Also if a = cats and b = the Internet then realistically a + b = YouTube. And then there's my personal and somewhat embittered favorite. Which brings us to this post which is the subject of another infallible equation.

There are some things in life, that even in their worst incarnation, are still capable of delivering a level of satisfaction within the ballpark of what their very best version could deliver. Having said that they're are those that unless it's anywhere near half-decent quality it's not worth your time. I mentioned this train of thought to my flat mate who totally understood what I meant, and then gave an example that I'm pretty sure even I can't share ('I'm telling ya man, if she doesn't know what she's doing it's just a waste of time.')

Something that falls into the former, along with fish and chips, ice cream and vodka, is the steak sandwich (not together). Because when you have a slab of red meat between two pieces of bread, there's no way that the result will anything but awesome.

Okay recipe time, but as it's basically a sandwich I think I can trust you to do your own thing. The only thing is something  I call Bacon Onion Gravy Relish Thing. It's something I came up with when I had Yorkshire Puddings in the oven, it wasn't Sunday and there was nothing else going with them, I was just in the kind of. . . . .mood where you're standing in the middle of the kitchen and you suddenly realise that if you don't have a plateful of Yorkshires in the next half hour you're probably going to harm yourself. Then my flat mate. . . . . .who was also in a similar mood, clasped his hands over his head and, 'Oh no, we've no gravy!' 'Shit you're right!' So this was what came about, a case of just throwing stuff into a pot until it tasted good. Shockingly it actually does. Also, recently I made this using half chicken stock, half braising juices from my soy pork belly, which was awesome, as was rubbing the steak in the same spice rub. But anyway here's a rundown of how I put mine together:

I used a rib eye steak, my personal fav in terms of both flavour and texture. I subscribe to the Heston-endorsed Harold McGee method of steak cookery, whereby you pre-heat the nuts off your pan, drop in your steak and turn every 20-30 seconds. Because you turn it so frequently the heat is retained on the exposed side and continues to cook on both sides, rather then cooling down and then having to get back up to temp, which is what happens when you've only turning it every couple of minutes. The advantage of this is two-fold. Firstly, it cooks in no time. I once had a steak go from raw to well-done in only 5-6 turns. Secondly, because it cooks so quickly and therefore been exposed to heat for a shorter amount of time, it retains more moisture. So in short, a juicier steak in less time. Try also with pork chops and burgers, but wouldn't recommend it with fish and chicken.

Take it out and let it rest (simply the MOST important aspect of meat cookery) on a plate for about the same amount of time you cooked it. In the same pan you cooked the steak in throw in 2 -3 mushrooms for per person and a clove of chopped garlic. Cook with a little bit of butter. As this is going on toast your bread. I used a round pita, but that's because I always have pita breads, in fact I only ever have pita bread. But here anyway they worked like gangbusters. Before assembly, pour the resting juices from the steak into the gravy/relish for full cheffy utilisation.

Assembly went: garlic mayo - lettuce - gravy/relish - steak - mushrooms - sliced spring onions - small grating of Parmesan, just to give a savoury kick.

Right now I'm going to break food blogger's protocol, as this where you'd usually say 'serve with nice salad of x, y and z' or with homemade potato wedges. But no, on this night it was McCain's frozen best. That's right, from the freezer to the oven, half an hour later and you've got near-passable chips. Not a garlic clove, Rosemary sprig or drizzle of olive oil in sight! Would Donal Skehan approve? No, but Donal Skehan isn't making dinner at half 11 at night after working a 10 hour shift with a hangover that could pacify half of fucking Cairo.

Bacon Onion Gravy Relish Thing:

1 Red onion, sliced

2 Rashers of bacon, cut into lardons

2 Garlic Cloves, finely chopped

1 tbsp Plain Flour

1 tsp Tomato Puree

1 tsp Dried Tarragon

200ml-300ml approx Chicken stock/water with 1/4 of a stock cube

2 tbsp Ballymole Relish

1tsp English Mustard

1. In a pot fry the bacon on a high heat with a little oil until it starts to colour.
2. Add garlic and onions, turn heat down and sweat for a few minutes till soft.
3. Add flour, herbs and puree, stir for a minute or two.
4. Pour in stock, stir well till thickened
5. Stir in condiments. Let simmer for 5-10 minutes. If it gets too thick just add water or more stock. Ultimatley you're looking for a ketchup-like thickness.

Enjoy peoples!