Tony & Giorgio

Tony & Giorgio Tony Allan Giorgio Locatelli Restaurant entrepreneur Tony Allan and Italian chef Giorgio Locatelli bring the vivacity and humour of their 12-year friendship to a brilliant partnership in the kitchen, combining a professional passion for the best of fresh, affordable ingredients with their home lives amongst family and good friends.Tony loves to shoot, hunt and fish. Giorgio loves to sizzle, simmer and saut?. Together they are double dynamite, exploding with outspoken opinions, original ideas and inspiring, relevant recipes that will have you cooking up a feast before you know it.When good old British know-how gets together with Italian style and charm in the overheated confines of the kitchen, anything happen.With Tony and Giorgio in your kitchen, you'll never again be stuck for something to feed your kids (lasagna with meat sauce, tuna burger); something to feed your family (Spanish tortilla, penne with walnut sauce); and something to feed your friends (sea bass in salt crust, boned stuffed turbot with parmesan beans).Not since Peter Sellers met Sophia Loren have Anglo-Italian relations been celebrated with such humour, spirit, and cultural one-upmanship. So it's salt beef versus vitello tonnato at dawn; English fish soup versus Italian fish stew; poached wild salmon versus linguine with crab, and sherry trifle versus tiramisu.Sheer, unadulterated joy and a passion for good, simple food shine through every page of this brilliantly original cookery book, which accompanies their blockbuster series broadcast in 2003. Tony & Giorgio Tony Allan and Giorgio Locatelli Photographs by Jason Lowe For my nonno, Mario Caletti, and my nonna, Vicenzina Tamborini, who slaved over the stove as I grew up, and taught me respect and honesty. Giorgio For my father, who talked me out of going into the building trade; for my mum, who talked me into becoming a chef; and for Denys and the kids who gave me a reason to get up at 2.30 in the morning for fourteen years. Tony CONTENTS Cover (#ue35f1abc-e581-5665-872f-874b61501eae) Title Page (#udfd8f9d8-8af8-5d80-b3d1-d603f2803021) Italy v. England (#u8131d342-ca63-5a44-9987-f714fabb0f8d) Fish (#u216b0383-e907-5243-8b24-6c717ab6c5b9) Everyday food (#litres_trial_promo) Hunting and gathering (#litres_trial_promo) Alfresco (#litres_trial_promo) Kids (#litres_trial_promo) Feeding friends (#litres_trial_promo) Leftovers (#litres_trial_promo) Basics (#litres_trial_promo) Index (#litres_trial_promo) Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo) About the Author (#litres_trial_promo) Copyright (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) Italy v. England (#ulink_a1e82df3-24bf-5ff1-800a-d35a9b99668c) I remember very well the first time I ever tasted Marmite.It was also the last time I ever tasted Marmite.Giorgio giorgio To an Italian, life is an opera, a drama. Every little thing that happens is like front-page news. If someone drops a glass on the table, it’s a major incident. Everyone yells, everyone has an opinion, it’s chaos. Italians have a totally different lifestyle from the English. The sun has a lot to do with it, of course. We spend a lot of our life outdoors, and it makes us more outgoing, more expressive. Maybe that’s why we yell and gesticulate so much. Basically, deep down, we’re all drama queens. The Italian writer Umberto Eco once said that we Italians are who we are because, throughout history, we were the ones who could sit down and do nothing. It sounds strange but the fact is we have raised the act of doing absolutely nothing to a fine art. We call it non far nulla, and it is something that every Italian understands instinctively. The English don’t have these instincts and feel somehow guilty if they do nothing. They always have to be doing something, and that’s why they’re always on the move. In England, if you do nothing you’re a loser. In Italy, the people who do nothing are running the country. What does that tell you? tony We Brits are hard working, methodical and unemotional - and that’s the good side of our character. We’re stoic, proud and strong, and we place great importance on politeness and ‘doing things properly'. If Italians are opera performers, then the English are the opera critics, sitting back, considering, analysing and judging. It’s not that we don’t have emotions, because we do. It’s just that we believe that showing them in public simply isn’t good form. The worst thing an Englishman can do is embarrass himself. So it’s easier not to take the risk and not to stick your neck out - not be the loudest, the tallest or the silliest. As a nation, we’d much rather stew about something than get it off our chest. If you ask diners in your restaurant if they’ve enjoyed their meal, they’ll say, ‘Yes, of course!’ And then they’ll go home and write the most vicious letter to you, outlining everything that went wrong with it. Italians are different. They act first and think later. When I was in Rome, I bought a slice of pizza from a little pizza joint. It only cost a quid but after I took my first bite the owner ripped it out of my hands and gave me another slice. ‘I could tell from your expression that you weren’t enjoying it,’ he said. ‘This one is better.’ That’s not really an English thing to do. To Italians, food is the most important thing in their lives (the second most important thing is how they look). This obsession is based on their belief that eating good food isn’t a privilege, it’s a basic right. Everyone eats well in Italy. Eating well is a sign of well being, of the normal functioning of a family. It doesn’t matter whether they’re eating in an expensive restaurant or buying a panino (bread roll) from a kiosk at a railway station, they will still insist on the best. And if they don’t get it, they will complain - loudly, of course. In truth, there is really no such thing as Italian food, because the individual regions of Italy are so strong and distinct. Sicilian food is nothing like the food of Tuscany, while Sardinian cooking is a million miles from the cuisine of Emilia Romagna. There are still a lot of people in Italy who will only eat the food of their own particular region. When I was growing up, chilli was something you would never find in our kitchen, because chilli was from the South and I came from Lombardy, in the north. I don’t think my grandfather ever tasted a chilli in his whole life. I can’t take my father to a restaurant because he won’t eat anything that isn’t from the north. It’s a real pain, but I respect him for it. Wherever you grow up in Italy, however, you grow up with food. I often think about the times as a little boy when I would walk in the mountains with my grandfather. We would drop into Cecchino the baker’s and buy his freshly baked michctta rolls. Then we would go to the salumeria and buy a hunk of mortadella di fegato (liver sausage). Then we would sit down on a big stone wall and my grandfather would pull out his hunting knife and slice up the sausage. A bite of sausage, a bite of bread - the flavours were fantastic. Whenever I think about that wall, I can still taste that mortadella. I once took my kids there and showed them the wall, but I don’t think they were terribly impressed. To them, it was just a wall. The big day of the week was always Tuesday, when my grandparents would close their restaurant and my grandmother would cook a big lunch for all the family and friends, usually about sixteen of us. It was such an event. If my grandmother wanted to cook rabbit, for instance, my grandfather would bring her the rabbits, she would pick out the one she wanted, and he would kill it, skin it and prepare it for cooking, right there in front of us. It wasn’t anything horrible, just a natural thing to do. These days, children don’t have that sense of death being a part of life. I once brought home a live crab and cooked it with spaghetti for dinner. When the kids sat down at the table and looked at the crab in the pasta, they both turned and stared at me. ‘You’re an assassin!’ they yelled. I can’t imagine what would happen if I brought home a rabbit.On Italian food I am naturally drawn to Italian things. I drive a Ferrari (that’s when my mate, Vinnie Jones, hasn’t commandeered it), I wear Italian clothes and I love Italian furniture. If I go more than a few days without pasta, I start getting withdrawal symptoms. Giorgio, of course, rides about on English-built motorbikes and puts on English manners but says things like ‘pero’ and ‘allora’ and ‘andiamo’ all the time. I’m a would-be Italian but I talk like a Cockney geezer. For me, it’s the simple things Italians do best: like an honest plate of spaghetti, a good loaf of crusty country bread just pulled out of a wood-fired oven, or a magnificent new-season white truffle from Alba shaved over a freshly made risotto. That’s real food, and real flavour. But it’s not just the flavours, it’s the way they’re put together. I am knocked out by the theatrical way in which the Italians stage-manage everything they do. I’ve always felt envious of Italians. What you can never take away from them - whether you’re talking Italian footballers or Italian chefs - is their unfailing sense of style. Let’s face it, they look better than us. Even if they lose a game ten-nil, the Italian football squad still look better, move better and hold themselves better than the winners. Being Italian, Giorgio has been born with a passion for food already in his veins. Being English, I had to find this passion for myself. It’s the difference between a highly trained chef and a self-taught cook. My passion is self-taught. On English food My mum was a very good but very English cook. The most exotic thing she ever made was pavlova. There was no such thing as Caesar salad or rocket salad or Tuscan bread salad for her. In our house, salad was usually some tomato and lettuce and not much more. I guess that explains this inbred craving I have for salad cream. I was brought up on comfort food, like shepherd’s pie, eggs and bacon, and steak and kidney pudding. I also inherited my father’s love of Scotch eggs, pork pies, and pickles such as gherkins and pickled onions. I remember when I was five or six, I picked up a pickled onion from my dad’s plate and popped it into my mouth. That sharp, tongue-curling hit of vinegar was such a shock, yet such a pleasure. Ironically, we never had fish in our house. My father was allergic to seafood, which didn’t help. So my first real experience of fish was at the school canteen, when they served up glowing yellow, artificially dyed smoked haddock in tinned tomato sauce. I remember standing there feeling like Oliver Twist in reverse: ‘Please sir, I don’t want any more.’ It was horrible of course and, to add insult to injury, I got a bone stuck in my throat. It’s a wonder I ever became so passionate about fish. The turning point was discovering fish and chips. What a great dish. Suddenly the world seemed a sensible place once again. When I was growing up, meals were just fuel stops. It was stop, fill up the tank, and you’re off, without having to think too much about what you’ve just put in your gob. Things have changed enormously in Britain since then. There is some pretty remarkable food in this country. For my money, British produce is the best in the world but we rarely do it justice. English apples are sensational. Our oysters, our venison, our wild fish and our cheeses are all bloody brilliant. Show me a perfectly cooked standing rib of beef with fresh horseradish sauce and roasted English onions, a new season’s grouse straight from the oven, a wheel of carefully aged farmhouse Cheddar, and some magnificent wild Scottish salmon poached in a simple courtbouillon, and I’ll show you why we haven’t got a thing to be ashamed of. I love English food - chicken tikka masala, hummous and spaghetti bolognese. You can’t get more English than that. When I worked at the Savoy, I started to appreciate English food. I soon discovered steak and kidney pudding, which taught me how good food in this country could be. The kidneys and steak would be cooked slowly and then left overnight to build up flavour and character. Then they were put in a big bowl and covered in a mixture of flour and fat from the kidney, and the whole thing would be steamed for about two hours. When it was finished, you could push your fork in through the pudding and the steam would rush up into your face while the aroma wrapped itself around you. For something that wasn’t Italian, it was amazing. I also love Yorkshire puddings, and the great British Sunday roast, and those marvellous bread and butter puddings. But not all English flavours are so thrilling. I remember very well the first time I ever tasted Marmite. It was also the last time I ever tasted Marmite. And I can’t stand English-Italian food – chicken surprise and spaghetti bolognese. It’s terrible. It took me four years to discover the one true pi?ce de r?sistance of English cooking. When I was at the Savoy, I was taken to Smithfield meat market early one morning and experienced my first full English breakfast. It was all there: the salty, thick-cut bacon, the just-runny egg, the kidneys, the fruity black pudding, the greasy sausage, the baked beans, the thin, buttered toast. I loved it. Suddenly I started to understand the English. Recipes Italy v. England Parsnip and smoked haddock soup Tortellini in brodo Prawn and langoustine cocktail Insalata di fagiolini con cipolle rosse arrostite Salad of cauliflower, ham hock and Stilton Carpaccio di manzo Steak and kidney pudding Insalata di spinaci e ricotta salata Slow-roasted belly pork with apple sauce and baked cabbage Pappardelle ai fegatini di pollo, salvia e tartufo nero Salt beef with carrots and mustard dumplings Coniglio al forno con prosciutto crudo e polenta Spezzatino di pollo al limone con carciofi Rhubarb bread and butter pudding Tiramisu Real sherry trifle Parsnip and smoked haddock soup Zuppa di pastinaca con eglefino affumicato Good smoked haddock is an art form, and it’s something that really only exists in the UK. In this soup it plays off the sweet nuttiness of the parsnips beautifully, producing a flavour combination that is unmistakably British. Tony Serves 6 25g/1 oz butter 1 onion, finely chopped 1 celery stalk, finely chopped 1kg/2?lb parsnips, finely chopped 1.8 litres/3 pints vegetable stock 300g/10 oz undyed smoked haddock 300ml/? pint milk mixed with 300ml/? pint water 150ml/? pint double cream (optional) sea salt and freshly ground black pepper Heat the butter in a large saucepan, add the onion and celery and cook for about 5 minutes, until softened. Stir in the parsnips and cook for a further 5 minutes. Pour over the stock and bring to the boil. Simmer gently for 20-25 minutes, until the parsnips are very tender. Meanwhile, place the smoked haddock in a frying pan and pour over the milk and water. Bring to the boil and simmer for 2 minutes, then remove from the heat and leave the fish to cool in the poaching liquid. Blitz the parsnip mixture until smooth, either with a hand-held blender or in a jug blender. Add the cream if required, then reheat gently and season to taste. Remove any skin and bones from the smoked haddock, discard the poaching liquid, and flake the fish into the soup. Ladle into warmed bowls to serve. Tortellini in brodo Tortellini in broth What a great dish this is. Add just two or three tortellini and you have a lovely, light soup. Put a lot more in and you have a terrific pasta dish sauced with a soupy broth. I love this served with a big wedge of Parmigiano to grate on top. '00’ flour is a special Italian fine flour used for making pizza and pasta. It is available at larger supermarkets and in Italian food shops. Giorgio Serves 4 1.5 litres/2? pints chicken stock (see page 241) For the pasta: 250g/9 oz Italian ?O’ flour large pinch of salt 1 egg, plus a little beaten egg for brushing 3 egg yolks 1 tablespoon olive oil For the filling: 200g/7 oz skinless, boneless chicken breast, diced 25g/1 oz pancetta, chopped 25g/1 oz mortadella, chopped 1 tablespoon double cream To make the pasta, sift the flour and salt into a food processor, then slowly pour in the egg and egg yolks through the feed tube, followed by the olive oil. As soon as the mixture comes together into a dough, switch off the machine. Put the dough on to a lightly floured work surface and knead for 10–15 minutes, until smooth, then wrap in clingfilm and chill for about 30 minutes. Meanwhile, make the torteliini filling. Put all the ingredients in a food processor and whiz to a paste. Transfer to a bowl and chill until ready to use. Cut the pasta dough in half and flatten it slightly with a rolling pin. Pass each piece through a pasta machine on the widest setting, then fold in half and repeat, each time switching the pasta machine to a finer setting, until the pasta is about 0.5mm thick. With a 6cm/2?in pastry cutter, cut a circle from the pasta and, using your fingers, stretch it as thinly as possible. Brush the edges with a little beaten egg and place a little of the filling in the middle. Fold the pasta over the filling to make a semi-circle, press the edges together to seal, then fold the 2 corners up over the centre and squeeze together tightly. Repeat until all the pasta and filling have been used. Keep the pasta dough covered with a damp cloth while you are working, to stop it drying out. Bring the chicken stock to the boil and drop in the torteliini. Simmer for about 4 minutes, until the torteliini are tender, then ladle into bowls and serve. Prawn and langoustine cocktail Cocktail di scampie e gamberoni, salsa ‘Marie Rose’ A survivor from the good old days when dining out meant prawn cocktail followed by sirloin steak followed by Black Forest g?teau. Yes, it did get a bit naff for a while, but treat it with respect, add a couple of fresh langoustines, and this classy first course will knock everybody’s socks off. If you want to add more langoustines, then go right ahead. Tony Serves 4 1 cucumber, peeled ? iceberg lettuce, shredded 300g/10 oz peeled cooked prawns 8 large cooked langoustines,shelled pinch of paprika 1 lemon, quartered For the cocktail sauce: 6 tablespoons Tony’s mayonnaise (see page 244) 2 tablespoons tomato ketchup 3-4 shakes of Tabasco sauce 1 tablespoon cognac squeeze of lemon juice Make the cocktail sauce by mixing together the mayonnaise, ketchup, Tabasco, cognac and lemon juice. Run a vegetable peeler down the length of the cucumber to make long, thin ribbons. Place in a large bowl with the shredded lettuce and toss with a tablespoon of the cocktail sauce. Divide the lettuce and cucumber between 4 serving bowls and pile the prawns loosely on top. Arrange the langoustines on top and spoon the remaining cocktail sauce over the prawns and langoustines, allowing it to trickle down. Dust sparingly with paprika and then serve immediately, with the lemon wedges and a few slices of buttered brown bread. Insalata di fagiolini con cipollerosse arrostite Bean salad with roasted red onions I always think green beans aren’t shown off to the best of their ability in this country. Usually they’re just boiled up in water and served with a knob of butter on top. It’s a pity, when you realise they have so much more to give. Giorgio Serves 4 shallots, finely chopped 5oml/2fl oz red wine vinegar red onions 125ml/4fl oz olive oil 750ml/1? pints red wine 100ml/3?fl oz white wine vinegar 2 tablespoons caster sugar 250g/9 oz extra-fine green or yellow beans 2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus Parmesan shavings to garnish sea salt and freshly ground black pepper Put the shallots in a small, non-metallic bowl and pour the red wine vinegar over them. Cover and leave to marinate overnight. Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F/Gas Mark 6. Wash the red onions, but don’t peel them, then rub them with a tablespoon of the olive oil. Place them in a roasting tin, cover tightly with foil and bake for about 1 hour, until tender. Leave until cool enough to handle, then remove the skins, trying not to squash the onions too much. Put the wine in a saucepan and boil until it has reduced to a few tablespoons and become shiny and syrupy. Remove from the heat and stir in the white wine vinegar and sugar. Slice the roasted onions, place them in a deep bowl and cover with the reduced wine mixture. Cook the green beans in boiling salted water for about 5 minutes, until just tender, then drain and refresh under cold running water. Add the remaining olive oil to the marinated shallots. Toss the shallot mixture with the green beans and grated Parmesan and season to taste. To serve, arrange the red onions on 4 serving plates and top with the green beans and shavings of Parmesan. Salad of cauliflower, ham hock and Stilton Insalata di cavolfiore, garretto di maiale e Stilton This is what I call the best of British – new-season cauliflower, a nice, meaty pig’s knuckle and a dressing made with one of Britain’s greatest cheeses. This is not your normal, everyday salad but an exciting combination of top-rate produce. If the dressing is too thick, use a little of the ham stock to thin it down. Tony Serves 6 2.5kg/5?lb ham hocks 1 onion, halved 2 celery stalks, roughly chopped chopped parsley For the Stilton dressing: 2 egg yolks 4 tablespoons white wine vinegar 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard 300ml/? pint olive oil 50g/2 oz Stilton cheese, crumbled salt and white pepper For the cauliflower: 4 peppercorns 1 sprig of rosemary 1 bay leaf 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 large cauliflower, cut into florets Place the ham hocks in a large saucepan with the onion and celery and cover with cold water. Bring to the boil and simmer gently for 4-5 hours, topping up the water level if necessary during cooking to keep the ham hocks covered. The meat should be almost falling off the bone. Leave to cool in the liquid, then flake the flesh from the ham hocks with your fingers and set aside. For the Stilton dressing, make sure all the ingredients are at room temperature. In a bowl, beat the egg yolks with a little salt and white pepper, half the vinegar and the mustard. Add the oil a drop at a time, whisking constantly to give a thick, glossy mayonnaise; you can start to add the oil in a thin stream once about a third of it has been incorporated. In a separate bowl, beat the remaining vinegar with the Stilton, whisking well until smooth. Then stir this into the mayonnaise. Taste and adjust the seasoning. For the cauliflower, put the peppercorns, rosemary, bay leaf and olive oil in a large saucepan with 1 litre/1? pints water. Bring to the boil and then drop in the cauliflower florets. Cook for about 5 minutes, until tender, then drain and refresh under cold running water. Place the cauliflower in a serving bowl and arrange the flaked ham on top. Drizzle with the Stilton dressing, add parsley and serve. Carpaccio di manzo Beef carpaccio Beef carpaccio was invented by Giuseppe Cipriani in Venice’s Harry’s Bar in 1961, and named after an Italian artist known for his use of vivid red colours. The Harry’s Bar original is dressed with a mixture of mayonnaise, Worcestershire sauce and lemon juice, but here are four variations that work just as well. Because there is nowhere to hide, only top-quality beef will do for this dish. Giorgio Serves 4 550g/1?lb beef fillet sea salt and freshly ground black pepper For the broccoli topping: small head of broccoli juice of 1 lemon 3 tablespoons olive oil For the caper and mayonnaise topping: tablespoons Tony’s mayonnaise (see page 244) 2 tablespoons capers, rinsed and drained For the mayonnaise topping: 2 tablespoons Tony’s mayonnaise (see page 244) For the rocket topping: 2 handfuls of rocket 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 tablespoon lemon juice 75g/3 oz Parmesan shavings Trim the fat from the beef fillet, then cut it into thin slices. Place 3 or 4 slices on a sheet of clingfilm or baking parchment, cover with another sheet of clingfilm or baking parchment and bash with a meat mallet or rolling pin until the meat is paper thin. Set aside and repeat for the rest of the beef. The slices can now be used straight away or rolled up and stored in the fridge for a few days. For the broccoli topping, trim off the stalks from the broccoli and cut into small dice. Blanch the florets in boiling salted water until they are slightly overcooked, then drain and leave to cool. Repeat for the diced stalks. Reserve a few small broccoli florets for decoration. Put the rest of the broccoli in a food processor and whiz until smooth, then season with salt and pepper. In a small bowl, mix the lemon juice with the olive oil. Take off the top sheet of clingfilm from the beef and season the meat with salt and pepper. Remove a quarter of the carpaccio slices and brush with the lemon oil. Spoon the broccoli pur?e on to a large serving plate and top with the brushed carpaccio slices. Decorate with the reserved broccoli florets. For the caper and mayonnaise topping, arrange a quarter of the carpaccio slices on a large serving plate and drizzle over the mayonnaise, then sprinkle over the capers. For the mayonnaise topping, arrange half the remaining carpaccio on a large serving plate and drizzle over the mayonnaise. Lay the remaining carpaccio slices on a serving plate. Dress the rocket leaves with the olive oil and lemon juice and season to taste. Arrange the rocket on the carpaccio and top with the Parmesan shavings. To serve, let everyone help themselves to the different carpaccios. Steak and kidney pudding Rognoni e manzo al vapore in crosta di strutto This is a great version of a great British dish, which I borrowed from Bobby King at the Cottage Inn in Ascot. What makes it so special is the addition of a secret ingredient. No, it’s not the Guinness, and it’s not the tomato pur?e. Yes, you guessed it. It’s the HP Sauce. Tony Serves 6 1 tablespoon sunflower oil 1 large onion, thinly sliced 700g/1lb 9 oz chuck steak, cut into 2cm/? inch cubes 225g/8 oz lamb’s kidneys, rinsed and cut into 2cm/? inch cubes 3 tablespoons plain flour 350ml/12fl oz beef stock 250ml/9fl oz Guinness or ale 1 tablespoon HP sauce 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce 1 tablespoon tomato pur?e 1 teaspoon chopped thyme large knob of butter sea salt and freshly ground black pepper For the pastry: 450g/1lb self-raising flour 225g/8 oz suet pinch of salt Heat the oil in a large saucepan, add the onion and cook gently for a few minutes. Toss the steak and kidney in the flour and add to the onion, tossing well. Cook until browned all over. Pour in the beef stock and beer, then add the HP sauce, Worcestershire sauce, tomato pur?e and thyme and season well to taste. Bring to the boil and simmer very gently for 1 hour, until the meat is tender. Remove from the heat and leave to cool. For the pastry, place the flour in a large bowl and stir in the suet and a good pinch of salt. Mix in enough cold water to form a soft dough, using your hands towards the end to bring it all together in a smooth, elastic dough that leaves the bowl clean. Leave for 5 minutes. Cut off and reserve a quarter of the pastry for the lid. Roll out the rest on a lightly floured work surface into a large circle. Use the butter to grease a 1.5 litre/2? pint pudding basin, then line it with the pastry and fill with the steak and kidney mixture. Roll out the remaining pastry and cut out a lid from it. Brush the edges with a little water and place in position on the pudding, pressing the edges well to seal. Cover with a double sheet of foil, pleated in the centre to allow room for expansion while cooking, and secure with string. Place the pudding in a large saucepan and pour in enough boiling water to come half-way up the sides of the basin. Cover the pan and steam for 40 minutes. Remove from the pan and leave to cool for about 5 minutes. Take off the foil and release the pudding by running a knife between the pastry and basin. Invert the pudding on to a serving plate, cut into wedges and serve immediately. Insalata di spinaci e ricotta salata Spinach di salted ricotta salad Salted ricotta is available from Italian delis. It is different from normal ricotta because the salting and maturing process hardens the cheese, giving it a character rather like feta. The distinctive flavour of the ricotta brings the delicate spinach leaves to life. Giorgio Serves 4 1 large red onion 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus a little extra for cooking the onion 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar large handful of baby spinach leaves 5 tablespoons Giorgio’s vinaigrette (see page 243) 5 slices of salted ricotta cheese sea salt and freshly ground black peppe Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F/Gas Mark 6. Wash the red onion but don’t peel it. Rub it with a little olive oil and place in a small roasting tin. Cover the tin tightly with foil and roast for 1 hour, until the onion is soft. Leave to cool, then carefully remove the skin and slice the onion into rings. Mix the red wine vinegar with 2 tablespoons of the olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Transfer to a non-metallic dish and add the onion rings. Cover and leave to marinate for about 1 hour, until ready to serve. Toss the spinach leaves with the vinaigrette. Sit one or two of the onion rings on each serving plate and pile the spinach leaves on top, leaf by leaf, to give a ‘flower’ shape. Break up the ricotta slices and sprinkle them on top of the spinach. Drizzle with the remaining olive oil, grind over some black pepper and then serve. Slow-roasted belly pork with apple sauce and baked cabbage Pancetta di maiale arrosto lentamente con salsa di mele e cavolo al forno Belly pork has a lot more going for it than the traditional roasting cuts. For a start, there is a nice flat expanse of rind to turn into much-loved crackling, while the layers of fat mean that the meat is virtually self-basting as it cooks. Tony Serves 6-8 1.25kg/5 lb piece of boned belly pork 2 carrots, sliced lengthways into quarters 1 large onion, thickly sliced 2 celery stalks, thickly sliced 1 large leek, thickly sliced 800ml/1? pints chicken stock 600ml/1 pint white wine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper For the apple sauce: 6 dessert apples, peeled, cored and sliced 50g/2 oz caster sugar large knob of butter juice of ? lemon For the baked cabbage: 1 small Savoy cabbage 1 streaky bacon rasher large knob of butter Score the rind of the pork with a very sharp knife (a Stanley knife does the job well), being careful not to cut right through the fat to the meat. Place the pork in a large saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring to the boil and simmer gently for 40 minutes, then drain and pat dry well. Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F/Gas Mark 6. Place the carrots, onion, celery and leek in a large roasting tin and put the pork on top, skin-side up. Pour 100ml/3?fl oz of the chicken stock into the tin, place in the oven and roast for 10 minutes. Turn the oven right down to 140°C/275°F/Gas Mark 1 and cook for 3 hours. If the crackling browns too quickly, cover loosely with a sheet of foil. For the apple sauce, place the apple slices in a saucepan with a few tablespoons of water, then cover and cook gently until soft and pulpy. Beat them to make a smooth sauce, adding the sugar, butter and lemon juice to taste. For the cabbage, remove the outside leaves and trim the core. Cut out a small piece from the top of the cabbage and insert the bacon, butter and a little seasoning. Wrap tightly in foil and place in the oven with the pork for the last hour of cooking. When ready to serve, remove the pork from the roasting tin and leave to rest in a warm place (if the crackling hasn’t crisped up, raise the oven temperature to 200°C/400°F/Gas Mark 6 and give it another 5-10 minutes first). Place the roasting tin on the hob. Heat gently, scraping up all the caramelised vegetables and meat from the bottom of the tin. Add the white wine and simmer rapidly until reduced by half. Pour in the remaining stock and simmer for a further 5 minutes, pressing the vegetables to a pulp, to make a gravy. Strain though a fine sieve and adjust the seasoning. Slice the pork, cut the cabbage into wedges and serve with the apple sauce and gravy. Pappardelle ai fegatini di pollo, salvia e tartufo nero Pappardelle with chicken livers, sags and black truffle Some people, like my good friend Vincenzo Borgonzolo who owns the restaurant, Al San Vincenzo, in London, cook with a natural Italian accent. Whatever he cooks it’s going to taste and feel Italian. Whenever I make something like this pappardelle dish with its honest Italian flavours combined with the luxurious aroma truffle, it reminds me of Vincenzo’s wonderful approach to food. The best time to buy truffles is in late autumn and early winter, when you’ll find them in the larger food halls and Italian delis. Even without truffles, this dish tastes great. Giorgio Serves 4 350g/12 oz pappardelle 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil 6 chicken livers, cut into 1.5cm/?in dice 6 small sage leaves, chopped 1 tablespoon brandy 25g/1 oz butter, melted 4–5 thin slices of fresh black truffle sea salt and freshly ground black pepper Cook the pappardelle in a large pot of boiling salted water for about 8 minutes, until al dente – tender but still firm to the bite. Meanwhile, place a heavy-based frying pan over a high heat to warm up. Add the olive oil, then the chicken livers and chopped sage. Season, then stir constantly for a minute or so, until the livers start to colour. Add the brandy and, standing well back, set it alight with a match to burn off the alcohol but leave the flavour. Remove the pan from the heat and set aside. Drain the cooked pasta (reserving a little of the cooking water). Return the chicken livers to a medium heat and add the pasta, with about a tablespoon of the cooking water. Toss well and stir in the melted butter. Transfer to a serving bowl and scatter the slices of black truffle on top, if you have them. If not, it doesn’t matter. Serve straight away. Salt beef with carrots and mustard dumplings Salt beef with carrots and mustard dumplings To salt your own beef takes over a week, so it’s far easier and much more practical to buy a pre-salted piece from your butcher (silverside works well), soak it first and then cook it slowly in the oven. This is like all my best childhood memories served up on a plate. Tony Serves 6 2.25kg/5lb joint of salt beef 25g/1 oz butter 500g/1lb 2 oz baby carrots, trimmed 2 tablespoons sugar 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce chopped parsley sea salt and freshly ground black pepper For the dumplings: 6 slices of white bread, crusts removed 1 teaspoon English mustard Soak the salt beef in cold water for 24 hours, changing the water twice. Preheat the oven to 150°C/300°F/Gas Mark 2. Drain the beef and place it in a close-fitting casserole with about 300ml/? pint boiling water. Cover the casserole with 2 layers of greaseproof paper or foil so that the juices cannot evaporate, then cover with a lid. Place in the oven and cook for 3 hours, until the meat is so tender it is almost falling apart. Remove from the oven and leave in the casserole for about 20 minutes. For the dumplings, break the bread into pieces and place in a bowl with the mustard and 150ml/? pint of the stock from cooking the beef. Season with salt and pepper and mix to a paste. Roll into small balls about the size of a walnut and set aside. For the carrots, heat the butter in a saucepan, add the carrots, sugar and a ladleful of the beef stock and simmer, uncovered, for 15 minutes, until the carrots are tender and all the juices in the pan have reduced down to a syrup. Bring a small saucepan of the salt beef stock to the boil, add the dumplings and simmer for 4-5 minutes. Heat 150ml/? pint of the remaining stock with the Worcestershire sauce. Serve each person 4 slices of the beef with some carrots, dumplings and a ladleful of stock, and a little parsley. Coniglio al forno con prosciutto crudo e polenta Rabbit with Parma ham and polenta This was inspired by a dish my grandmother, Vicenzina Tamborini, used to make when I was a boy. Rabbit and polenta are natural companions, and they work even better with the saltiness of the ham and the bitterness of the radicchio. If you can’t find radicchio trevisano, use ordinary radicchio instead. Giorgio Serves 6 6 rabbit legs, boned 12 thin slices of Parma ham 2 tablespoons groundnut oil 50g/2 oz butter 500g/1lb 2 oz lard, melted 125g/4 oz polenta 1.2 litres/2 pints milk 2 heads of radicchio trevisano sea salt and freshly ground black pepper Preheat the oven to 120°C/250°F/Gas Mark ?. Wrap each rabbit leg in 2 slices of Parma ham. Heat half the oil in a large shallow casserole and place the rabbit legs in it. Fry over a medium heat until they start to colour, then add the butter. Turn the legs over and cook for a further 2 minutes. Cover the legs completely with the melted lard, then cover with foil and cook very gently in the oven for 1 hour, until very tender. Meanwhile, cook the polenta. Put it in a large jug so that it can be poured in a steady stream. Bring the milk to the boil in a large saucepan; it should half fill the pan. Add 1 teaspoon of salt and then slowly add the polenta in a continuous stream, stirring with a long-handled whisk all the time, until completely blended. The polenta will start to bubble volcanically. Reduce the heat as low as possible and cook for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Cut each radicchio into 3 and season with salt and pepper. Brush with the remaining oil and cook on a medium-hot griddle pan, until wilted. Spoon the polenta on to 6 serving plates and put the rabbit legs on top. Add the radicchio to the side and serve straight away. Spezzatino di pollo al limone con carciofi Chicken stew with artichoke and lemon This is a very old recipe that probably originated in Sardinia. What saves it from being just another nice, homely stew is the surprising tang of the lemon juice. Be sure to use unwaxed lemons. Giorgio Serves 4 4 lemons 2 bay leaves 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar 2 globe artichokes 2 tablespoons olive oil 2 onions, finely chopped 1 garlic clove, crushed 4 chicken legs a little plain flour, for dusting 100ml/3f?fl oz white wine 250ml/9fl oz chicken stock 50g/2 oz parsley, chopped sea salt and freshly ground black pepper Half fill a saucepan with water and add 1 lemon, cut in half, 1 bay leaf, the vinegar and some salt. Snap the stalks off the artichokes. With a paring knife, starting from the base of the artichoke, trim off all the leaves and then remove the hairy choke, until you are left with only a neatly shaped heart. Cut another lemon in half and rub the base of the artichokes with the cut side. Put the artichoke hearts in the saucepan of water, bring to the boil and simmer, uncovered, for 5 minutes. Drain and cut into quarters. Grate the zest of the remaining 2 lemons and sprinkle over the chicken. Dust the chicken very lightly with flour. In a large casserole, heat half the olive oil, add the chicken and cook over a high heat for a few minutes, until a golden crust has formed. Season with salt and pepper, then remove from the pan and set aside. Heat the remaining oil in the casserole and add the onions, garlic and remaining bay leaf. Cook for 3-4 minutes over a medium heat, until softened. Raise the heat and add the white wine to the pan, stirring and scraping at the residue on the base of the pan and allowing the wine to bubble and reduce for a minute or two. Add the reduced wine, chicken and artichokes to the softened onion mixture and cook over a gentle heat, stirring frequently, for about 20 minutes. Add the chicken stock, cover the pan with a lid and braise the chicken very gently for about 30 minutes, stirring half-way through. Just before serving, add the chopped parsley and the juice of 1 lemon, then adjust the seasoning. Rhubarb bread and butter pudding Budino di pane burro al rabarbaro Bread and butter pud is one of those childhood cravings that don’t ever seem to go away. Here, I’ve taken the pudding from the fish! restaurants and given it a bit of a grown-up twist with the twang of rhubarb, but essentially it’s still a good old ? & ?. Tony Serves 6–8 600g/1lb 5 oz rhubarb, cut into 2.5cm/1in pieces 200g/7 oz caster sugar 300g/10 oz thickly sliced white bread, crusts removed 40g/1?oz butter, softened 300ml/? pint milk 1 vanilla pod, split open lengthways 4 eggs 300ml/? pint double cream icing sugar for dusting Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4. Put the rhubarb in a saucepan with 50g/2 oz of the caster sugar and 2 tablespoons of water and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook for 5 minutes, or until the rhubarb is just tender but still holding its shape, then set aside. Butter the bread with the softened butter and cut each slice into 4 triangles. Place a layer of the triangles, slightly overlapping, in a 1.8 litre/3 pint ovenproof dish. Spoon over half the rhubarb and top with the rest of the bread, then spoon over the remaining rhubarb. Bring the milk and vanilla pod to the boil in a saucepan, then remove from the heat and leave to infuse for about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, whisk the eggs and remaining sugar together in a large bowl. Stir the cream into the boiled milk and pour on to the egg mixture, stirring well. Pour the mixture through a sieve, over the bread and rhubarb. Press the bread down gently to submerge it if necessary. Bake the pudding for about 45-60 minutes, until just set. Remove from the oven and dust with icing sugar before serving. Tiramisu Pock me-up pudding The original tiramisu ('pick me up') was created in the Sixties at the El Toula restaurant, just outside Treviso. It’s a truly great dessert, but perhaps a little heavy for modern tastes, especially at the end of a big dinner. Here is a lighter version, served in crisp wafer baskets. Giorgio Serves 8 4 eggs, separated 100g/3?oz caster sugar, plus 2 tablespoons 500g/1lb 2 oz mascarpone cheese 6 tablespoons marsala wine 250ml/9fl oz fresh black coffee 16 savoiardi biscuits (sponge fingers) cocoa powder, for dusting For thecialde(wafer baskets): 100g/3? oz butter, softened 100g/3? oz caster sugar 100g/3?oz plain flour 2 large egg whites For the coffee sauce: 200ml/7fl oz milk 2 egg yolks 50g/2 oz caster sugar 1? teaspoons instant coffee To make the cialde, put the butter and sugar in a mixing bowl and beat together until pale and fluffy. Sift in the flour and mix well, then stir in the egg whites. Cover and chill for 1–2 hours. Preheat the oven to 170°C/325°F/Gas Mark 3. Line 2 baking sheets with baking parchment and spread 4 thin circles of the mixture on each one, each about 12cm/5in in diameter. Bake for 5-6 minutes, until golden. Take the discs off the paper immediately and gently mould each one over an upturned tea cup or small bowl so that it forms a basket shape. Leave to cool, then set aside. To make the coffee sauce, bring the milk to the boil in a saucepan. Mix the egg yolks, sugar and coffee together in a bowl. When the milk comes to the boil, pour it on to the egg mixture, stirring constantly. Return the mixture to the pan and stir over a gentle heat, without letting it boil, for 2 minutes or until thickened. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool. For the tiramisu mixture, beat the egg yolks and 100g/3?oz sugar together with an electric hand-held beater until pale and quite stiff. Add the mascarpone and beat until smooth, then whisk in the marsala. Place in the fridge. In a clean bowl, whisk the egg whites and 2 tablespoons of sugar together until stiff, then fold into the mascarpone mixture. Return to the fridge for 30 minutes. Put the black coffee in a bowl, briefly soak the savoiardi biscuits in it, then remove and set aside. Spoon 2 tablespoons of the coffee sauce on to each serving plate. Dab a bit of the tiramisu mixture on the base on each basket to prevent it moving around and put it on the coffee sauce. Fill the baskets with alternate layers of the cream and soaked biscuits, breaking up the biscuits to fit and finishing with a layer of the cream. Dust with cocoa powder before serving. Real sherry trifle ‘Zuppa Inglese’ a base di sherry This is no short-cut sherry trifle, but the real thing in all its great British glory, right down to the home-made fruit jelly and proper old-fashioned custard. Tony Serves 6–8 6 sponge fingers or slices of sponge cake 8 macaroons 150ml/? pint sweet sherry 300ml/? pint double cream tablespoon icing sugar tablespoons toasted flaked almonds For the fruit jelly: 500g/1lb 2 oz mixed strawberries and raspberries 175g/6 oz caster sugar 250ml/9fl oz water 300ml/? pint fresh orange juice 6 gelatine leaves For the custard: 200ml/7fl oz whipping cream 200ml/7fl oz milk 1 vanilla pod, split open lengthways 5 egg yolks 1 egg 3 tablespoons caster sugar Arrange the sponge fingers and macaroons on the base of a 1.8 litre/3 pint trifle bowl. Pour over the sherry and leave to soak. For the fruit jelly, set aside about 12 small strawberries and 15 raspberries. Place the remaining fruit in a large saucepan with the sugar, water and orange juice, bring gently to a simmer and cook for about 10 minutes, until very soft. Pour through a sieve into a bowl, pushing gently with the back of a spoon to extract as much juice as possible. Return the juice to the saucepan, discarding the fruit pulp. Soak the gelatine leaves in cold water for 5 minutes and then squeeze out the water. Add the gelatine to the warm fruit juice and whisk in well, until the gelatine has completely dissolved. Add the reserved strawberries and raspberries, then leave to cool. Pour the mixture over the soaked sponge fingers and macaroons and place in the fridge to set. For the custard, put the whipping cream, milk and vanilla pod in a pan and bring almost to boiling point. Remove from the heat, cover and leave to infuse for about 20 minutes. Beat the egg yolks, egg and sugar together in a large bowl. Remove the vanilla pod from the cream mixture, pour the cream over the eggs and mix together. Pour back into the cream pan and cook very gently over a low heat, stirring constantly, until the custard has thickened. Be careful not to overcook. Remove from the heat, strain into a bowl and leave to cool, covering the surface of the custard with a circle of greaseproof paper to stop a skin forming. When the custard is cold, pour it over the set jelly and return to the fridge to chill. Whip the double cream with the icing sugar until it just holds soft peaks. Pile on top of the custard and chill once more, until ready to eat. Serve scattered with the toasted almonds. Fish (#ulink_43e7b2a8-1abe-5bfc-bf6a-dfe0515979df) When you cast a line or a net, you might not catch anything. But when you do, it’s as if all your Christmases have come at once. Tony tony on fishing I’ve been fishing since I was a kid and I still get excited by it. Before I started to sell fish I was a fish cook, and now I own a chain of fish restaurants around Britain. So on my day off, what do I do? Go fishing, of course. The great thing about fishing is the unpredictability of the whole thing. When you cast a line or a net, or a fishing rod, you don’t know what’s under the water. You might not catch anything. But when you do, it’s as if all your Christmases have come at once. When people ask me what I like best about fishing, they want to know if the exciting bit is watching the rod and seeing the bite, or actually feeling the fish on the line. The thrill is definitely about the take and the play of the rod when you’re game fishing for trout or salmon. But with beach casting, it’s different. You start off all relaxed and floating, without a care in the world, and then suddenly, from out of nowhere, you see that bite. That’s the best thing in the world. giorgio on fishing I hate fishing. I’m not a big fisherman like Tony. I especially hate all that waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. That’s why I’m not a very good pastry cook. I can’t stand putting something in the oven and then just waiting around for everything to happen. I’d be forever opening the oven door to find out how it’s going. ‘Is it ready yet?’ I like action, I like to move with my food. So no, I am in too much of a hurry to be a fisherman. To be honest, I get more of a thrill out of finding a wild mushroom in the forest. Now that’s exciting. I used to go fishing as a boy in Lake Maggiore, near where we lived in northern Italy. We used to go after gobbino, or sunfish, which are a good eating fish, a little smaller than perch. I remember going out with my grandfather one time and we found a buca. This is a hole on the bottom of the lake floor where the fish go to lie low during summer, to escape the heat. They just stay there all day, then come out at night to feed. All you had to do was put in your line and pull out a fish. Put in and pull out. Put in and pull out. That’s the sort of fishing I like. No waiting. tony On fish Fashion has a lot to do with what fish we eat. In the Eighties, farmed salmon was all the rage. I always thought that was a pity, because it meant we were losing our seasons. In the old days, every ingredient had its time. For strawberries, it was June; Stilton was only ever properly ready at Christmas; and you had to wait until late spring for the start of the salmon season. But by the Eighties everyone was lapping up farmed salmon all year round. Then we all went sea bass mad. It was sea bass for breakfast, sea bass for lunch and sea bass for dinner. By the Nineties, recession had set in and sea bass was tossed aside. Instead, we all started eating peasant food like cod, mash and lentils. As the economy started picking up again, and Sir Terence Conran began to open his massive restaurants, the sea bass came back. Tuna was big, scallops were on every menu and langoustines became the new glamour food. Fish and chips made a comeback, too, although I’m not convinced that they ever really went away. If I were picking favourites, I’d have to go for scallops. This isn’t just because I grow them but because they really are the king of shellfish - more so, even, than lobster. The big scallops we get are like tournedos (small fillets of beef). You can cook them like a fillet steak, or even make scallop Rossini with a garnish of truffle and foie gras. The flavour of a scallop is like nothing else, but if you really want to get the most out of it, then eat it raw. Unbelievable! Wild Scottish salmon is probably the world’s most wonderful fish, and large sea bass is great too, with its clean-flavoured, snow-white flesh and distinctive silver-grey skin, which crisps wonderfully when pan fried or roasted. Halibut, too, is majestic, but it can go one way or the other. Only one out of ten halibut is really good, but when you get a good one it’s magic, mainly because of the texture of the flesh. When you bite into halibut, it doesn’t flake; instead it’s chewy, almost like meat. Then there is eel. The best meal I ever had was in Portugal at a beach bar called Antonio’s. They had just had a lot of flooding in the area and the marshes were full of eels. So the old man got one of these eels, chopped a chunk off it and marinated it in olive oil, oregano and sea salt for two days. Then he just banged it on the barbecue. It was magnificent. The flesh was succulent and the skin all crisp and crunchy. Throw in a bottle of Vinho Verde and you’re in heaven. giorgio I love cheap fish. Baby red mullet is one of my favourites, but I like all small fish. I used to get a mixed bag of small fish from Tony sometimes, and it was wonderful. Often I will call up a fish supplier and ask, ‘What is the cheapest fish you have?’ I don’t mean bad-quality fish but good quality that happens to be cheap. If I’m lucky I might get some anchovies or sardines. A lot of people don’t think of them as very exciting fish but they’re wrong. You can do anything with them, and whatever you do they always reward you with so much flavour and character. Mackerel is a great fish. I always have it on my menus as a starter. There are about twenty different ways I can serve it. I can cook it like a saltimbocca, with ham around it, or fry it and make up an agrodolce (sweet and sour sauce), or maybe just flash it in a pan with a bit of red wine, then whisk in a little olive oil to make a light vinaigrette. I also love to cook predators, such as pike and zander. They’re like the sharks of the rivers. Like Tony, I love eel, but I just can’t sell it in the restaurant. It’s a pity because when you cook it on the grill with a herb and breadcrumb crust, the flavour is absolutely amazing. Come on, everybody! Eat more eel! tony on buying fish For great fish, you have to go beyond the supermarket and find a fishmonger. You have to buy a whole fish, on the bone. It’s the only way you’ll get really fresh fish. I once asked the staff in a supermarket where the coley had come from and they said, ‘Out the back.' You have to make sure the fish is slimy to the touch - which means it hasn’t been out of the water for more than a couple of days - that it’s bright red under the gills, and that its eyes are bright and clear. And don’t forget to smell it. A fresh fish has a pleasant smell. If it smells fishy, then forget it. It’s too old. If you want fillets, buy the whole fish and fillet it at home - or get your fishmonger to do it for you. Be nice and he’ll pinbone the fillets for you and give you the head and bones so you can make a quick fish stock for the freezer. Everyone says to wash your fish but I say not to, apart from any obvious messy areas like the gut. If you fillet your fish at home without rinsing it all over, you’ll keep in so much more of the flavour, and you’ll really get to know what that fish is about. Recipes Fish Scallops with bacon and bubble and squeak Risotto allo champagne con capesante English fish soup Zuppa di pesce Mackerel escabeche Insalata tiepida di gamberi e borlotti Swordfish club Fish and chips with mushy peas Linguine alla polpa di granchio Whole poached salmon with warm potato salad Nasello in scabeccio e insalata di finocchio Eels and mash Coda di rospo in salsa di noci e capperi Filetto di salmone all’aceto balsamico Griddled tuna with rocket and tomato Scallops with bacon and bubble and squeak Capesante con pancetta e crochette di patate e cavolo As far as I’m concerned, scallops are the king of shellfish. This is a killer recipe that combines the lovely sea-fresh sweetness of scallops with the campfire smokiness of bacon, the tang of a gribiche-style vinaigrette, and the comforting texture of bubble ‘n’ squeak. Tony Serves 4 12 large hand-dived scallops 12 thinly cut dry-cured smoked bacon rashers sea salt and freshly ground black pepper For the bubble and squeak: 500g/1lb 2 oz leftover roast potatoes 250g/9 oz any leftover cooked greens, e. g. cabbage, Brussels sprouts, spring greens a little semolina or flour, for dusting 2 tablespoons vegetable oil For the red wine vinaigrette: 8 tablespoons good-quality vegetable oil 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar 1 small hard-boiled egg, shelled and chopped 2 tablespoons capers, rinsed, drained and roughly chopped 2 cocktail gherkins, finely chopped 1 tablespoon chopped mixed tarragon, parsley and chervil 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil Pat the scallops dry with kitchen paper, then remove the corals and set aside. For the bubble and squeak, finely chop the scallop corals and put them in a bowl with the roast potatoes and greens. Mash with a fork until the mixture begins to hold together and then season well to taste. Divide the mixture into four and shape into cakes. Dust lightly with semolina or flour and chill for about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, make the vinaigrette. Whisk the vegetable oil and red wine vinegar together. Stir in the rest of the ingredients and season with salt and pepper. Set aside until ready to use. Wrap a bacon rasher around the edge of each scallop and secure with a cocktail stick, then set aside. Heat a frying pan, add the vegetable oil and fry the bubble and squeak cakes for about 5 minutes on each side, until golden and crisp. Keep warm until ready to serve. Heat a ridged griddle pan until hot, put the bacon-wrapped scallops in it and cookuntil the bacon is golden all over, rolling the scallops over with tongs to colour it evenly. Then lay the scallops flat and cook for 1 minute on each side. Put the bubble and squeak on 4 serving plates and arrange the scallops on top. Drizzle the vinaigrette around and serve. Risotto allo Champagne con capesant Champagne risotto with scallops For me, making risotto is as natural as breathing. It won’t take too long for you to feel the same way. Basically the act of making risotto is divided into four main parts. First we start with the soffritto, which in this case is the onion cooked in the butter. Then comes the toasting of the rice in the butter. Next, the hot stock is added, with continual stirring to allow it to be absorbed by the rice. Finally, when the rice is cooked, comes the mantecare, when the risotto is rested off the heat for 30 seconds and the butter (and cheese in non-seafood risottos) is added. Remember that your rice should be al dente, and pearly looking. Otherwise it is just a rice dish and not a risotto. Giorgio Serves 4 6 large, fresh scallops 1 litre/1? pints hot fish stock 75g/3 oz butter, plus an extra knob of cold butter 1 small onion, finely chopped 350g/12 oz superfine carnaroli risotto rice 125ml/4fl oz champagne sea salt and freshly ground black pepper Chop 2 of the scallops into 5mm/?in dice. Slice the rest of the scallops thinly, season lightly with salt and pepper and set aside. Put the stock in a saucepan and keep it at simmering point. Melt the 75g/3 oz butter in a large saucepan, add the onion and cook gently until softened. Add the rice and stir for 1 minute to coat it with the butter. Add the champagne and cook rapidly until it is reduced by half. Slowly start to pour the fish stock into the rice a ladleful at a time, stirring well. After each addition, allow the stock to be absorbed into the rice before adding the next ladleful, letting it gently simmer away and stirring all the time. When all the stock has been added and the rice is tender (this should take about 15-20 minutes), add the diced scallops. Remove from the heat and leave to rest for 30 seconds, then add the knob of butter and stir together well. Season well to taste and then serve the risotto in warmed serving bowls garnished with the sliced scallops. The heat of the rice will almost cook the scallops on the way to the table. English fish soup Zuppa di pesce all’Inglese This is actually a traditional French recipe but given a distinct English accent. The harissa, saffron and Pernod might be imported flavours but the fish I’ve chosen are very much local heroes, so it’s more your ‘fish soup’ than your ‘soupe de poisson'. If you like, you can serve this with grilled baguette slices topped with melted Gruy?re or rouille. Tony Serves 4-6 3 tablespoons olive oil 1 onion, roughly chopped 1 small carrot, roughly chopped 1 celery stalk, roughly chopped 1 leek, roughly chopped pinch of fennel seeds small pinch of saffron strands 1 teaspoon harissa paste 1 tablespoon tomato pur?e 200g/7 oz gurnard, skinned and roughly chopped 100g/3?oz red mullet, skinned and roughly chopped 300g/10 oz whiting, skinned and roughly chopped 75g/3oz fresh brown crabmeat 3 tomatoes, skinned and chopped 75ml/2?fl oz white wine 1 tablespoon Pernod 1 bay leaf 1 small fennel bulb, roughly chopped 1.5 litres/2? pints water sea salt and freshly ground black pepper Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan, add the onion, carrot, celery and leek and cook gently for 3-4 minutes, until beginning to soften. Add the fennel seeds and saffron strands and stir through for a minute. Add the harissa and tomato pur?e, then tip in all the fish, including the crabmeat, and cook gently for about 10 minutes. Stir in the chopped tomatoes, white wine, Pernod, bay leaf and fennel. Season with a good pinch of salt and freshly ground black pepper, then add the water and simmer for about 30 minutes. Pur?e the soup with a hand-held blender or in a jug blender. If you prefer a very smooth soup, pass it through a fine sieve as well. Reheat gently, taste and adjust the seasoning, then serve. Zuppa di pesce Italian fish stew Practically every region of Italy has its own recipe for a fish stew, from the brodetto alla Vastese of Abruzzo to the Genoese buridda from Liguria. This one, however, is my favourite. With its dried chilli, tomatoes and slices of crusty bread, it is similar to cassola, the famous Sardinian fish stew. Giorgio Serves 4 50ml/2fl oz olive oil 2 sprigs of rosemary, finely chopped 1 sprig of sage, chopped 1 teaspoon crushed chilli flakes 1 red onion, finely chopped 2 garlic cloves, crushed 100ml/3?fl oz white wine 400g/14 oz baby octopus, cleaned and cut into pieces 8 small squid, cleaned and cut into 4 pieces each 200g/7 oz plum tomatoes, roughly chopped 600ml/1 pint fish stock 24 clams 24 mussels 8 large peeled raw prawns 400g/14 oz monkfish fillet, sliced sea salt and freshly ground black pepper To serve: 4 slices of Tuscan-style country bread 1 garlic clove, peeled Heat the oil in a large saucepan, add the rosemary, sage, chilli flakes, onion and garlic and saut? over a medium heat for 5 minutes. Pour in the wine and simmer until it has completely evaporated. Add the octopus and cook for 10 minutes, then add the squid and tomatoes. Pour in the stock, bring to the boil and simmer for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, scrub the clams and mussels under cold running water and pull the beards out of the mussels. Discard any open clams or mussels that don’t close when tapped lightly on the work surface. Add the prawns, clams, mussels and monkfish to the pan and simmer gently for about 7 minutes. Discard any mussels or clams that haven’t opened, then taste and adjust the seasoning. Rub the slices of bread with the garlic clove and place them in 4 large serving bowls. Ladle the soup on top and serve immediately. Mackerel escabeche Escabeche sgombro Both Giorgio and I are mad about vinegar-based sauces with fish, except he calls them agrodolce and I generally use the French term, escabeche. Basically they’re pretty much the same thing. In this dish the vinegar cuts through the oily quality of the mackerel, leaving you with something that sings in your mouth. Tony Serves 4 tablespoon sunflower oil 8 mackerel fillets, skinned 2 lemons, thinly sliced 1 orange, thinly sliced 2 tablespoons olive oil 1 garlic clove, peeled 1 bay leaf, torn 2 carrots, thinly sliced 1 large onion, thinly sliced 6 tomatoes, deseeded and cut into 1cm/? in dice 50ml/2fl oz white wine vinegar 500ml/17fl oz white wine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper Heat the sunflower oil in a large frying pan, add the mackerel fillets and cook for 30 seconds on each side. Remove from the pan, arrange in a shallow dish in a single layer and put the lemon and orange slices on top. Put the olive oil, garlic clove and bay leaf in a saucepan and heat gently. Add the carrots and onion and cook for 2-3 minutes, then add the diced tomatoes and some salt and pepper. Pour in the white wine vinegar and white wine, bring to the boil and simmer for a few minutes. Pour this mixture straight over the mackerel; it should cover the fish. Leave to cool completely, then cover with clingfilm and leave to marinate in the fridge overnight. Bring to room temperature before serving, garnished with toast, if liked, and accompanied by potato salad. Insalata tiepida di gamberi e borlotti Warm prawn salad with borlotti beans Prawns and beans make one of the great classic combinations of Italian cooking. Fresh borlotti beans are in season in the UK in July and August and taste wonderful. If you’re in a hurry, though, open a couple of cans instead and this whole dish will take only a few minutes. Giorgio Serves 4 16 large peeled raw prawns 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus extra for drizzling 3 garlic cloves, finely chopped 2 red chillies, finely sliced 50ml/2fl oz white wine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper For the borlotti beans: about 1.3kg/3lb fresh borlotti beans (you will need 450g/1lb shelled weight) 4 sage leaves 1 bay leaf 6 sprigs of parsley ? celery stalk 1 garlic bulb, cut in half Shell the borlotti beans and put them in a large saucepan. Make a bouquet garni by tying together the sage, bay leaf, parsley and celery with string. Add to the beans along with the garlic bulb, cover with plenty of cold water and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer gently for 30 minutes or until the beans are tender, then drain and set aside. Butterfly the prawns by slicing nearly all the way through them lengthways and opening them out. Heat a large, heavy-based frying pan, add the olive oil, then add the garlic and chillies and fry for a few seconds. Add the prawns and fry for about 3-4 minutes, until just cooked through. Add the white wine and ignite with a match to flamb? the prawns (but not the curtains!). When the flames have died down, remove the prawns from the pan and set aside. Add the drained borlotti beans to the pan and heat through, so they take on the garlic and chilli flavours. Return the prawns to the pan and toss everything together, then season to taste. Serve the prawns and beans liberally drizzled with good extra virgin olive oil and sprinkled with lots of freshly ground black pepper. Swordfish club ‘Club sandwich’ di pesce spada They say that the best way to judge a top hotel is to order a club sandwich on room service. I reckon if any hotel were smart enough to put this swordfish version on the room-service menu for their guests instead of the normal turkey and bacon variety, they’d never get them to go home. Tony Serves 2 300ml/? pint vegetable oil 100g/3?oz sliced smoked salmon 4 thin swordfish steaks, weighing about 50 – 65g/2 –2?o z each 1 tablespoon olive oil 6 slices of Granary bread 3 tablespoons mayonnaise 100g/3?oz iceberg lettuce, chopped 2 tomatoes, thinly sliced sea salt and freshly ground black pepper Heat the vegetable oil in a small saucepan until it is hot enough to turn a small cube of bread brown in about 1 minute. Add 1 or 2 smoked salmon slices and fry for about 30 seconds, until crisp. Drain on kitchen paper and fry the remaining smoked salmon in the same way, then set aside. Heat a ridged griddle pan until very hot. Brush the swordfish steaks on both sides with the olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Place on the hot griddle and cook for about 2 minutes on each side, until cooked through and slightly charred. Toast the bread lightly on both sides. Mix together the mayonnaise and lettuce and spread it on 2 slices of the bread. Place these on 2 serving plates. Place the swordfish on top. Put the crisp smoked salmon and sliced tomatoes on 2 more slices of bread and place on top of the swordfish. Top with a final slice of bread and secure the whole stack with a long wooden skewer. Cut in half and serve, with crisp chips (see page 56). Fish and chips with mushy peas Pesce fritto, patatine e pure di piselli At fish! we always use haddock for fish and chips but at Bank we go a little upscale and use halibut. Both are perfect for deep-frying because they keep their shape and retain a nice, dense texture. The double cooking of the chips guarantees the golden crispness that chip lovers adore. You don’t have to do the mushy peas but personally I think they’re the best bit. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/giorgio-locatelli/tony-giorgio/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. 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