It would begin with being sent into the garden to collect apple mint to cook with Jersey potatoes, my first happy summer holiday task, so it was probably going to be salmon they would accompany, a Saturday dish that would become a highlight all summer long. Then, to go with it, the cucumber slicing, the vinegar, the rarely used black-pepper mill, the pinch of sugar … and parsley sauce: green-flecked and silky smooth, that gorgeous lotion buried pink flakes of fish as swiftly as lava flow.
All this carry-on was giddy stuff to a boy who, quite simply, loved to eat. Later into the season it would be the neat shredding of our own runner beans through a hand-cranked contraption clamped to the edge of the kitchen table, so bright green and sappy as they tumbled into an enamelled tin dish (always the same one) as if by magic. Broad beans were homegrown, too. Although I adore these now, I truly loathed them as a boy.
Our attempts at growing new potatoes always seemed a dismal failure. However, marrows from the garden were a huge success – and with much emphasis on the huge. Once cut down to size, these vegetable leviathans emerged as a mellow oven dish, immersed in a simple white sauce to accompany a roast shoulder of lamb, all crisp of skin and sweet pink meat within. I just knew that these moments would always be the best of times.
Homegrown gooseberries and blackcurrants were picked through the warm months for making sugar-crusted pies. As were over-ripe strawberries bought for a few pence at the market, packed into pastry, which fought to contain their copious, fragrant juices as they seeped out on to a sheet of tinfoil placed on the oven floor of the Aga.
That sensible purpose, however, affords me yet another memory of those heady summer scents: that of scorched strawberry jam – which, of course, was nothing of the sort. Rhubarb emerged as rampantly as triffids under terracotta pots. Raspberries, sadly, offered a meagre crop.
That which flourished, however, was hugely celebrated during the hot and heady days of my childhood summertime and the resultant dishes a joy to devour. I do hope the following recipes will offer inspiration and enjoyment in your own kitchen too.
Broad beans à la Française (well, kind of)
I have added a little bacon, which is something I would never contemplate adding to the traditional dish when made with peas. Many do, but I couldn't possibly comment. This particular outing used frozen broad beans.
Serves 4
frozen broad beans 650g
butter 50g
smoked streaky bacon 6 thin rashers sliced into very thin strips
spring onions 1 bunch, trimmed and cut into 2cm lengths
lettuce the outside leaves of 3-4, roughly sliced (see lettuce salad, below)
Maldon salt a little
freshly ground white pepper plenty
Place the frozen beans in a bowl and cover with boiling water from a kettle. Drain in a colander and then plunge into a bowl of iced water for a few minutes. Drain once more and remove their tiny skins – which will take a while, but vastly improve the finished dish, be assured. Take a large frying pan (preferably non-stick), melt the butter and stew the bacon in it over a medium heat until opaque, then add the spring onions and continue stewing for a further 5 minutes. Introduce the lettuce leaves and raise the heat. Once the liquid in the pan begins to emulsify, tip in the beans and seasoning, then cook the whole assembly for a further few minutes, tossing and turning it together with a sturdy spatula until all green and glossy. Tip out on to a hot serving dish and serve forthwith.
Oriental poached chicken in green chilli and coriander jelly
The cooking of the chicken, here, relies fully upon the Chinese recipe known as "steeped chicken". It is a superb method when dealing with a chicken that is intended to be served cold. I have offered two versions of the finished dish: one is elaborate and a bit cheffy; the other more homely and serviceable, though each uses exactly the same recipe. Try the former for a special, sunny lunch at home, and the latter for a picnic.
Serves 4
For cooking the chicken
chicken 1 (1.3-1.4kg)
Chinese shaoxing wine, or dry sherry 150ml
chicken stock 200ml, lightly flavoured
star anise 2
spring onions 1 bunch, trimmed and sliced into short lengths
garlic 4 cloves, crushed
ginger 75g, sliced
mild green chillies 3 large, sliced (I used jalapeños throughout)
Thai fish sauce 1 tbsp, plus a little extra as seasoning, if necessary
mild green chillies 3 large, deseeded and finely chopped
coriander 1 large bunch, roughly chopped
gelatine leaves 4, soaked in cold water for 5 minutes, until soft
You will also need a few extra green chillies and coriander leaves standing by, depending upon how you wish to finish the dish.
Choose a lidded cooking pot that will accommodate the chicken snugly, then remove the chicken and put to one side.
For cooking the chicken, add the remaining ingredients to the pot, bring up to a simmer and quietly cook for 10 minutes. Now, reintroduce the chicken, breast side up, and top up with boiling water from a kettle until it reaches just above the joint of the thigh and drumstick. Return to a simmer, skim off any scum that accumulates on the surface, then turn the chicken over. Allow to cook for 2 minutes, then switch off the heat. Put on the lid and leave be for 30 minutes.
Once the time is up, turn the chicken over once more and quietly return to a simmer. As it does, take a small sharp knife and make short slashes through the chicken skin between the leg and thigh, on each side, which will allow the bird to cook evenly. Once again, simmer for 2 minutes and then a further 30 minutes with the heat switched off, covered. Remove the bird from its broth, put on to a plate and allow to cool for about 20 minutes – or until cool enough to handle.
Carve both the breasts and legs from the chicken and put to one side. Using your hands, break up the chicken carcass into rough pieces and return to the broth. Bring up to a gentle simmer once more, then cook, uncovered, for 45 minutes, so that the broth may reduce a little and intensify in flavour. Note: attentive removal of generated surface scum with spoon and ladle during this time will hugely contribute to the clarity of the finished broth.
Have the chopped green chillies and coriander leaves ready in a deep saucepan, together with the softened gelatine leaves. Suspend a colander over the pan, strain the broth through it and discard debris. Stir the broth through the flavourings and gelatine to distribute them, then allow to infuse for 30 minutes.
Finally – phew! – strain this infusion through a double layer of muslin into a clean bowl.
To finish the dish:
Cheffy method: Remove the skin from the chicken, cut into equal-size pieces and arrange in a serving dish. Decorate them with a few slices of chilli and some sprigs of coriander and place in the fridge to chill. Fill a large bowl with ice cubes, a tablespoonful of salt and enough cold water to just cover the ice cubes. Immerse the bowl filled with the infused stock into the watery ice and begin to gently stir it around. After several minutes you will to notice the liquid starting to gel. Once it begins to look syrupy lift the bowl from the ice. Now remove the chicken from the fridge and, with moderate speed, carefully ladle the jelly over the chicken pieces.
Return to the fridge until you are ready to present the dish.
Picnic method: As above, remove the skin from the chicken but, this time, remove the meat from the bones and cut into strips. Take the infused stock and mix it with one tablespoon of finely chopped, deseeded chillies and 2 tbsp of finely chopped coriander leaves, then tip in the chicken. Mix well and decant into a Tupperware container. Put on the lid and place in the fridge until set – about 3 hours.
A simply dressed rice salad – and mixed with peas, say – would be an excellent accompaniment to both versions of this fragrantly elegant dish.
Marinated mackerel with tartare dressing
Here, I have simply marinated the mackerel in a little salt and lemon juice, as the accompanying "tartare" dressing has a punch all its own.
Serves 4
mackerel 2 large, very fresh, filleted
lemons juice of 2
Maldon salt
cos lettuce 1 (using several leaves from the heart)
For the tartare dressing
egg yolk 1
extra virgin olive oil 2-3 tbsp
Dijon mustard 1 tsp
green peppercorns ½ tbsp
Worcestershire sauce a few shakes
Tabasco sauce 4-5 drops
cognac 2 tsp
chopped parsley 1 tbsp
small gherkins 3-4, chopped
capers 1 tsp
Maldon salt a little
Take the 4 mackerel fillets and run a very sharp knife either side of the central row of bones, so further cutting each into two thin strips. Place these in a suitable dish, sprinkle with enough sea salt simply to season them and squeeze over the lemon juice. Cover with clingfilm and refrigerate for 3 hours, turning them over 2-3 times, until the fish is opaque and has firmed up.
To make the dressing, simply puree all the ingredients in a small processor until smooth. Drain the lemon juice from the fish and serve it with crisp leaves taken from the heart of a cos lettuce. Simply pop two or three slivers of the fish inside each leaf, anoint with dressing and eat with fingers. The contrast in texture is most agreeable.
Stuffed tomatoes with rice, anchovy and herbs
Based on a classic antipasto, these intensely savoury baked tomatoes are best eaten at room temperature.
Serves 4
tomatoes 8, medium-sized firm and ripe
garlic 4 cloves, peeled and crushed
dried chilli flakes ½ tsp
mint, parsley and basil leaves a small handful
extra virgin olive oil 100-125ml
anchovy fillets 8, finely chopped
carnaroli rice 65g
Maldon salt a little
Remove the cores from the tomatoes using a small, sharp-tipped knife, then turn them over. Using the same knife, cut across about a quarter of the way down the tomato to give 8 little caps, reserving these for later. Using a teaspoon, carefully scoop out all the tomato's innards into a food processor. Place the hollowed-out shells into a dish (or foil takeaway containers if for a picnic) that will accommodate them quite snugly. Add the garlic, chilli and herbs to the tomato innards and pulse/process until all is an even, but fairly coarse puree. Now pour in 100ml of olive oil and further process until the entire mixture is sloppy and oily. Tip into a bowl and add the anchovies, rice and a little sea salt; this will be necessary, even though the anchovies will season as well. Thoroughly stir everything together and leave to sit for at least 30 minutes, or up to an hour. Heat the oven to 200C/gas mark 6.
Using a dessertspoon, fill the tomatoes with the rice mixture (there may be a little left over so don't be tempted to over-fill), making sure that all the liquid is included, allowing any excess to flow into the dish. Replace the little caps on each tomato, trickle over a little more oil and bake in the oven for about 45 minutes, turning the heat down a touch if the tomatoes are browning too much – but they must blister somewhat, for both the taste and the look of the thing. Taste a little of the rice to make sure it is fully cooked, although it will also continue to swell as it cools. Serve at room temperature (or cool) well basted with the juices and oil just before serving.
Lettuce salad with eggs, mustard cress and a creamed dressing
When little round lettuces are at their very best and fresh as a daisy, would one truly wish for anything else?
Serves 4
For the dressing
mayonnaise 4 tbsp
milk 2-3 tbsp
Worcestershire sauce several generous shakes
lemon juice of 1 small
freshly ground white pepper
whipping cream 2-3 tbsp
eggs 4
round lettuces 4, ruthlessly trimmed of all dark-to-mid green outer leaves to reveal only a pale green/yellow heart (save the outer leaves for the broad bean recipe above)
mustard cress 4 punnets
chives 1 small bunch, snipped
extra virgin olive oil a little
Maldon salt
freshly ground black pepper
Whisk all the ingredients for the dressing together in a bowl until the consistency of pouring cream. Please use your own taste buds, here, as to a flavour that suits you; I prefer the dressing sharp-ish, and also like the Worcestershire sauce to be notable. Keep cool in the fridge until needed.
Take the eggs, place in a small pan and just cover with cold water. Bring up to a boil, switch off the heat and put on a lid. Leave in the water for exactly 5 minutes, then place the pan in the sink and allow a steady stream of cold water to run through the eggs for at least 3 minutes. Lift out the eggs, carefully shell them and slice on a plate using an egg slicer – one of my favourite bits of kitchen kit. If you don't have one, either slice with a knife or cut them into quarters.
Now, take the four lettuce hearts and separate into leaves. Arrange in a generously sized shallow dish so the leaves are as separate as possible; this will allow, all at once, for as much lateral distribution of the sliced eggs, a scattering of cress, the snipped chives and some dressing – the latter as a neat splatter – before mixing at table with the merest shine of oil and the faintest sprinkle of flaky salt and grind of pepper.
Chilled salmon, dill and cucumber soup
This cold soup has all the attributes of a perfect summer garden lunch: texturally exciting, fragrant, undeniably stylish.
Serves 4
cucumber 1 medium-sized
white wine 200ml
chicken stock 200ml, lightly flavoured
lemon juice of 1
dill about a dozen sprigs – 10, roughly chopped, 2 reserved for garnish
salt and pepper
spring onions 4, roughly chopped
white wine vinegar 1 tsp
tomato 1 medium, chopped
salmon fillet 200g, skinless and boneless
floury potato 1 medium, peeled and chopped small
double cream 125 ml
Tabasco 4-5 healthy shakes (optional)
Peel the cucumber and place the skin in a stainless steel pan. Cut the cucumber in half lengthways, scoop out the seeds and add them to the pan. Thinly slice the cucumber halves, place in a bowl and keep cool in the fridge. Pour in the white wine, chicken stock, lemon juice, dill, seasoning, spring onions, white wine vinegar and tomato. Bring to a simmer and cook for 30 minutes. Strain through a fine sieve into a bowl, then return it to the (rinsed clean) pan.
Slip in the salmon fillets, return the liquid to a simmer, switch off the heat, cover and leave the fish in the waning heat for 5 minutes. Fish out the fish, put on to a plate to cool then keep cold in the fridge. Now add the potato to the fishy broth and simmer to a point of collapse. Tip the contents of the pan into a liquidiser, process until very smooth and, once more, pass this through a fine sieve into a bowl. Allow to cool to room temperature, whisk in the cream, stir in the cucumber and Tabasco [if using], then add the leaves from the reserved dill, finely chopped. Chill thoroughly in the fridge for at least 3 hours.
To serve, flake the salmon into the middle of four chilled soup plates and ladle over the soup.
Gooseberry pie
This is almost exactly how my mother made one of her sugary fruit pies. You will need a loose-bottomed tart tin measuring 20cm wide by 3cm deep and a flat baking sheet, which should be placed in the oven at the outset.
Serves 4
all-butter puff pastry 320g packet, ready‑rolled
gooseberries 600g, topped and tailed
caster sugar 5 tbsp, plus a little extra for the pastry crust
cornflour 1 tbsp
cloves 6 (only their tiny buds pinched off with the fingers from the stalk, then crumbled into the fruit)
egg 1, beaten
fridge-cold butter 40g
Heat the oven to 190C/gas mark 5. Lightly grease the tart tin with the butter. Roll out two-thirds of the pastry until wide enough to line the tin, as well as allowing a slight excess to flop over the rim.
Put in the fridge and chill for at least 20 minutes. Meanwhile, roll out the remaining third of the pastry to make a lid for the pie and chill this too.
Mix the gooseberries, sugar, cornflour and clove buds in a roomy bowl until all are well coated and sticky (a sturdy spatula is best for doing this). Remove the pastry-lined tin from the fridge and fill with the gooseberry mixture, then brush a little beaten egg around the excess edge of the pastry. Now remove the pastry lid from the fridge, flop it over the fruit and neatly press the pastry edges together.
Brush the pie with beaten egg, then firmly indent the rim with the tines of a fork to both secure a seal and to pretty the thing. Note: any decoration attended upon pastry to be baked will only reveal itself post a wash of beaten egg.
Generously and evenly dredge the pie with caster sugar, make 3-4 incisions in the centre of the pastry lid to allow steam to escape, then slide the pie on to the baking sheet and bake for about 45-50 minutes, or until the pastry sports a deep golden shine and has an agreeably crisp surface (if you feel that the pastry is browning too rapidly towards the end of the cooking time, loosely cover with a sheet of foil).
Remove from the oven and leave in the tin until lukewarm before removing. Serve with thick, cold, double cream.
Strawberries in fleurie
I learned to make this dish while working as an apprentice in a French restaurant in Lancashire, during my mid-teens. The family owners used to import beaujolais from France in giant wooden barrels, then bottle it in the cellars. Occasionally I used to be called upon to help, which was a welcome break from the heat of the kitchen.
Serves 4
caster sugar 4 tbsp
fleurie (or another fresh and fruity beaujolais, such as chiroubles) 500ml
Grand Marnier or Cointreau 1 tbsp
ripe strawberries 600g, hulled
Whisk together the sugar, wine and chosen liqueur in a roomy bowl. Tip in the strawberries and leave to macerate in the fridge, covered with clingfilm, for a minimum of one hour, but no longer than three.
Serve directly from the fridge, ice cold and full of refreshment.
