Gratin Dauphinoise – the cheats version …

… but before I begin here's a tip or three!

You can make a larger dauphinoise using the dish measurements already given in “Zhuzh your leftovers” and upping the recipe – 1.350g/3lb of potatoes and adding 725ml/1¼ pints of of cream – ensure your dish is filled to within 2cms/¾” from the top. The authentic recipe will follow!

You can save yourself time if you like prepping ahead. I peeled the potatoes, placing them immediately into a bowl of cold water, ready to rinse and dry. I didn't use a mandoline – unless you're proficient and a lover of washing up difficult kit with deadly blades I'd suggest a smaller, but effective alternative – an onion & potato holder. The holder secures the peeled potato thus enabling you to slice the potatoes thinly and evenly.

Here it is :

You can pay as little as £2 – I chose the one shown because it's food grade stainless steel - £7.99 – more robust for frequent use!

As for the number of serves you'll get – for the smaller version it depends on the appetites so could be 3 or 4 – I'd go 3 but it depends on what else you're serving. The larger version will give you between 6 or 8.

Whether you opt to make the cheats' version or the “real deal” Gratin Dauphinoise it would take your leftover roast of beef, pork or chicken (or a Quorn alternative for the veggies) to a whole new level. It doesn't have to be leftover roast, you could choose a selection of charcuterie i.e. a combination of cooked and cured meats – ham hock or gammon would be perfect too. I'd definitely serve with a relish - beetroot would be an excellent choice – the sharpness of the beetroot against the richness of either version - cheats or real deal.

A useless bit of information for you - it was the custom in France back in the day to serve a dauphinoise as a first course on its own and then followed by meats as outlined above and a salad – every day is a school day!

Let's get a move on!

Sidetracked … from the memory bank!

Frittata takes me back to the best breakfast I've ever eaten – in Jake's Grill, Portland, Oregon.

Admittedly it was a late breakfast – the ultimate indulgence – an omelette made with Oregon Dungeness Crab. Its season is December through to April – supplies are limited from then on. If you're ever in that neck of the woods treat yourself – it's still on the menu, served with breakfast potatoes.

Some may say it's extravagant to put crab in an omelette – hey, it's a treat and I say a little bit of what you fancy does you good!

I've also discovered that they serve a Dungeness Crab Benedict – what a glorious thought!

I wouldn't normally mention Christmas yet awhile but it has been such a strange year nothing is “normal” as we know it so anything goes! I'm suggesting “back-burner” ideas that might appeal when you want to push the boat out. A crab benedict sounds like a great place to begin.

Add a packet of buttermilk muffins to your shopping list - you can stash in them in the freezer - they don't take up too much space - ready to toast and butter – add the crabmeat, not forgetting a drop of lemon juice and a sprinkle of celery salt and black pepper and then drizzle generously with a mornay sauce.

As I've said previously a mornay sauce is definitely less stressful than Hollandaise and to serve it with fish is a marriage made in heaven. Not for nothing did Wheeler's, the famous fish restaurant include a mornay in their sauce list to accompany their fabulous fish dishes so why not over crab for a Christmas morning breakfast!

If you like the idea then you might want to check out your supermarket ahead of the game – most sell crab meat – white or a mixture of white and brown and some is suitable for freezing which would be a good idea. Crab meat is also available in tins. If you're feeling very extravagant then you could buy it direct from specialist seafood suppliers – from Orkney to Folkstone and Cornwall to Cromer (in Norfolk) there's so much choice out there!

The “back-burner” ideas list begins ...

Remember the geographical bread roll?

Before I begin this piece I said at the end of the previous missive that I may have another idea for the chowder. It's not rocket science, just a thought – add a dumpling – probably not what you'd expect in a chowder but the recipe given can be vegetarian or not - so a dumpling vegetarian or not - would lift a bowl of soup to a more substantial – and a speedy idea – for a mid week supper.

Back to the title. The “geographical bread roll” reminded me of another childhood treat that falls into a similar regional difference.

Is it a crumpet or a pikelet - that is the question!

It can be either – both originally from Wales and the regional name, certainly in the Midlands is a pikelet. Most of us know what a crumpet looks like – where I came from a crumpet was posh – a pikelet definitely wasn't! The difference is that a pikelet is thinner than a crumpet.

Back in the day there were portable stalls just outside the entrance to the Market Hall in Derby City Centre selling pikelets from what I can only describe, these days, as a portable ice cream cart. You can still get variations on a theme of a pikelet in that neck of the woods. I visit the market town of Ashbourne in the Derbyshire Dales occasionally and there's a stall where you can buy pikelets or the nearest to them I've seen in recent years but they are called Derbyshire Oatcakes, larger and flatter than the originals but definitely worth a taste!

Here they are :

see what I mean – flatter but still with the “crumpet holes”

Back to the crumpet, widely available everywhere in the UK. It's important that crumpets should be toasted twice if you're using a toaster, well done if under the grill – they have a tendency to be “claggy” (sticky) otherwise.

Whether a pikelet or a crumpet, other than smothering in butter, try adding grated cheese and grill or – a delish weekend breakfast treat – top with a poached egg.

Here's my other suggestion. “Double toast” your crumpet, spread with cream cheese and then drizzle with honey or, my personal favourite, maple syrup.

I don't have a sweet tooth but the balance of the crumpet or pikelet, cream cheese and just a hint of natural sweetness with either honey or maple syrup is wonderful.

There's a thought!

The Hollandaise Sauce

First up the technical stuff – hollandaise is a butter sauce and it has a delicate rich flavour composed of butter and eggs adding lemon juice or vinegar. Hollandaise is not thickened with flour but with the emulsion of the butter and the liquid. Flavours are infused in the vinegar and reduced.

Slowly, slowly when you're adding the butter. If it should split or curdle take the mixture off the heat and add a fresh egg yolk to bring it back.

The Hollandaise

5 fl oz of white wine vinegar

6 peppercorns

1 bay leaf

1 blade of mace – optional

4oz unsalted butter

3 egg yolks

salt and black pepper

Put the vinegar and seasonings into a pan and reduce it to 1 tablespoon, then strain. Using a stick blender process the yolks with the reduction. Clarify the butter (in other words melt the butter in a small saucepan, a milk pan is ideal as it has a pourer). Normally you'd use clarified butter but it's not essential, you can use the whey. If you tip the pan gently when the butter has melted you'll see the golden butter and the whey which has separated. Pour the butter slowly onto the yolks, blending as you go. Season well.

A hollandaise should be served warm, not hot.

Needless to say this sauce takes time but it's well worth the trouble – a perfect weekend breakfast or brunch. Traditionally the benedict was served with ham but these days it is just as popular served with smoked salmon.

Coming next … the best tip and a photo or two.

Eggs Benedict – the history bit

The jury is out as to when eggs benedict first appeared either on a menu or in a restaurant. One thing is for sure it was definitely in New York, USA. It could be as early as 1860. There are lots of stories but the one I like the best is from 1894 when “Lemuel Benedict wanted a hangover cure and ordered buttered toast, poached eggs, crispy bacon and a hooker of hollandaise”. It was Oscar Tschirky, the maître d'hôtel who subsequently put it on the breakfast and lunch menus but changed the bacon for ham and the toast for a toasted English muffin.

A “Hooker” of hollandaise? – “hollandaise” means “from Holland” and probably the Hook of Holland - a town in the south west, hence the hooker, may be?

The sauce was originally Sauce Isigny – not surprisingly French and from the Normandy region in particular. It's thought that it morphed into hollandaise when butter was imported from Holland during World War I. These days Isigny sur mer is famous for its cream, butter and cheese. Its high quality butter is still produced the old fashioned way – churning.

There are heaps of alternatives to the “Benedict”.

Here are three :

Blanchard substitutes Béchamel sauce for Hollandaise

Florentine substitutes spinach for the ham or adds it underneath.

Mornay substitutes a cheese sauce for Hollandaise

I couldn't leave out “Irish Benedict” - replaces the ham with corned beef or Irish bacon.

Hats off to Oscar Tschirky who had the idea of serving the benedict on a toasted muffin - genius – a perfectly neat shape just right for a poached egg.

You never know where this history stuff is going to take you – I hope I haven't bored you – you know what they say, “you learn something new every day”!

Now for the recipe …

The Cornish Pasty – the golden rules

This series may seem a tad long winded but these culinary masterpieces should not be rushed!

The filling is always raw and is baked at the same time as the pastry. The pasty is a meal in itself and in Cornwall it's actually considered an insult to serve them with anything else.

The meat content should be diced, never minced. The beef should be either chuck steak or skirt – also known as blade. A pasty should contain 12.5% beef. The vegetables should be finely sliced of a similar size so they cook evenly and the potatoes should be an “old variety” which will “fall”. Use strong plain flour – the sort used in bread making. As you can see, this is not an expensive meal – at it's roots the pasty evolved from humble ingredients that were plentiful and nutritious. The meat element was the most costly which is probably why the percentage of meat is as small as it is.

Think of the pasty as a pressure cooker – you need to release steam – place a small hole in the top of the pasty. Don't be tempted to tuck into your pasty straight from the oven – trust me – the inside stays hot for a long time.

Pasties are usually personalised with initials – top left, others say top right – who knows! It does however date back I think to the miners when some owners provided large ovens at the surface to keep the pasties hot for the men. A useful tip for today if you're tweaking the filling to suit your family and friends' preferences!

You'll read all sorts of “do's and don'ts” about pasty pastry and to be fair, there's no right or wrong way, all I can tell you is what follows works.

Recipes up next!

The Cornish Pasty

Cornish tin miners eventually had to search elsewhere for work when the mines closed. They moved around the UK and all over the world too – for example, between 1861 and 1901 it's estimated that 250,000 Cornish migrated to Australia. It's not surprising therefore, that you'll find pasties, or versions of them, all over the world. There's a very successful company in Australia “Cousin Jacks Pasty Co.”. In case you were wondering where “ Cousin Jacks” comes from – it's an affectionate nickname for Cornish people – “Cousin Jennies” too.

Legend has it that there are “Knockers” or “Knackers” - mischief making leprechaun like creatures who lived deep in the tin mines, knocking on the walls and supports. They could be good or bad depending on your point of view. To some, the knocking served as a warning of impending disaster and so protected the miners, to others these mischief makers caused cave-ins. Which brings me to the “end” of the pasty. The miners would save, literally, the last bite - the end of their pasty and throw them deep into the mine to either appease the bad knockers or thank the good. A help or a hindrance?

Not to be confused with the “end” of a pasty - there's also a “corner”. A “corner”, is said to be a portion of a pasty saved to eat later on in the long shift – larger than we'd call a corner, probably about a third of a pasty.

The iconic crimped crust of a pasty isn't there for decoration. Mining was a dangerous occupation and arsenic poisoning was not unusual. There were no bathrooms – you couldn't just pop off and wash your hands before lunch, the miners' hands were ingrained with dirt and chemicals, arsenic being one of them. The miners held their pasty by the thick crimped crust to prevent being poisoned. How smart is that.

Iconic is the word – a delicious, complete meal in a pastry blanket.

Coming next – the golden rules for the contents and the making of the pastry!

Portable Summer food …

… it could be for a picnic, a survival kit whilst travelling, part of your al fresco summer parties or an impromptu get together. In other words, food that is easily or conveniently carried or moved around. Some may say that packing a survival kit whilst you're on the move is not worth the effort. For me, I've been disappointed and ripped off at Services for poor food and expensive snacks – the coffee has improved but that's about it! I take a “kit” for a long journey – 4 hours plus. Similarly if you holiday in the UK and choose a self catering option, unless you want to spend your holiday in a supermarket – that you have to search for – the more you think ahead, even in a small way, the better. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting you cook up a storm and spend your holiday serving it all, far from it.

My plan is that if I'm away for seven days I take the basics, condiments, staples, breakfast bits, a few treats and the wherewithal for two meals – ish.

The ideas and recipes that follow are all portable and suitable for any of the above occasions!

On that note - have you ever made a Cornish Pasty?

They've been around “recently” for about 200 years but history says that they were with us well before in some form. A Cornish pasty has to be the ultimate in “portable” food. Cornish tin miners took a pasty to work every day – it's hard to comprehend that they walked long distances to the mine, then down the shaft for a long shift. It was hard, gruelling work and the pasty provided sustenance.

There are loads of stories and superstitions and golden rules too for the contents of a pasty and the making of the pastry itself.

It's difficult to know where to begin – some of the stories are based on fact, some fiction and others somewhere in between – I'll give it my best shot and hope you enjoy the read – who knows you might have a go at making a pasty!