From Across The Pond

I own an embarrassingly large number of cookbooks, but like many things, I have a few favorites that I find myself reaching for time after time...my desert island cookbooks if you will. This is a series of posts that will describe these books that make up my core collection. I hope that you find them and the recipes they contain as enjoyable and useful as I do.

Well, as this is my fifth post in this little series, it feels only right that it should be my last.  I mean, you couldn't really take more than five books to a desert island, now could you?

And it seems only fitting that my last choice should be the most basic of the bunch:  How to Eat by Nigella Lawson.  For the record, my runner up choices include Sunday Suppers at Lucques, Madhur Jaffrey's Indian Cooking (this is a small, old-looking paperback that I picked up at Bonnie Slotnick Cookbooks in the West Village, and does not seem to be on Amazon), The World Vegetarian, Serena, Food & Stories, and At Home in Provence.   

We're all more than familiar with this doyenne of domesticity at this point.  She of the provocative finger licking, suggestive mmmm's and bosom-showcasing tops.  Whatever you may think of the new richer, slicker version of Ms. Lawson, I believe that her basic ethos has remained unchanged:  food should be pleasurable, and to be pleasurable it must be both good and easily doable.

What I love about this book is that, as her first, it is just undeniably her, and her ethos shines through unfettered.  There are no pictures, just pages and pages of wonderful, imaginative recipes interspersed with charming witticisms, light philosophizing and stories.  It almost is a book that you could sit down and read as you would a novel (I actually have done so, albeit in a piecemeal fashion).

The recipes alternate between things that your vaguely alcoholic but very cultured British aunt would request, if you had one that is (I personally have always wanted one, she would eat the Rhubarb, Muscat and Mascarpone Trifle), things that a man with very basic taste in food would love (Minute Steaks With Bearnaise Sauce), things that a sophisticated 30-something woman would prepare for dinner on her night in (Sole With Chanterelles), and things that a family as a whole could enjoy together (Spanish Stew).

I have a particularly soft spot for the Barbados Cream (I believe you are supposed to serve it over fruit or something similar, but embarrassingly, I tend to eat it without accompaniment...while standing in front of the refrigerator) and Anna's Chickpea and Pasta Soup.

Barbados Cream

From How to Eat by Nigella Lawson

Serves 6-8

1 1/4 cup heavy cream

1 1/3 cup plain yogurt

about 1/3 cup light brown sugar (I like to use dark)

Mix everything together and beat till fairly but not too stiffly thick.  Pour into a shallow bowl measuring approximately 8 inches in diameter.  Sprinkle over it a thick carpet of brown sugar, cover with plastic, and leave somewhere cool for at least 12 hours or, better still, 24 hours.

Anna's Chickpea And Pasta Soup

From How to Eat, by Nigella Lawson

Serves 8

2 cups dried chickpeas

2 teaspoons baking soda

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons salt

3 quarts vegetable stock, meat stock, white wine and water, or water

3 rosemary sprigs

8 garlic cloves, peeled and bruised

1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for serving

1 pound tomatoes, skinned and seeded (I just used canned whole tomatoes here)

salt and freshly milled black pepper

8 ounces small tubular pasta such as ditalini

2-3 tablespoons chopped parseley (optional, but I like it)

chili oil, for serving (optional)

grated parmesan, to serve

Put the chickpeas in a bowl and cover with plenty of water.  Mix together the baking soda, flour and salt and add enough water to make a thin paste.  Stir this mixture into the bowls with the chickpeas and leave to soak for at least 12 hours, and preferably 24 (I would err on the longer end here, I've found they can take as long as 36 hours).

When the chickpeas have doubled in size (you don't have to get your ruler out; trust your eyes), they are ready to be cooked.  Drain and then rinse them.  Put them in a large pot and add the vegetable stock

Tie the rosemary sprigs in cheesecloth and add to the pot.  This will make it possible to remove the rosemary without leaving any needles to float in the soup.  This might sound persnickety, but when I ignored the advice, I found the sharp and, by now, bitter needles an unpleasant intrusion.  If you feel intimidated by the idea of cheesecloth then use, disgusting though it sounds, an old clean knee-high stocking and tie a knot at the open end (I would just interject that I would bite the bullet and go with the cheesecloth), or use a tea infuser.

Add the garlic to the chickpea mixture and pour in half the oil.  Cover the pot tightly and bring to the boil.  You will have to gauge this by ear without peeping in.  Lower the heat and cook over the lowest simmer until the chickpeas are tender, 2-4 hours.  Take a look after 1 1/2 hours.

When the chickpeas are tender, remove the garlic and the rosemary bundle, which should be floating on the surface.  Puree the tomatoes in a food mill or in a food processor and add to the soup with their juice.  Stir well, add salt and pepper to taste, and cook for 10 minutes further or so.  This is the point at which you should stop when you're cooking the soup in advance.

When you want to eat it, put the soup back on the burner and reheat it, so that you can proceed to the final step, which is to cook the pasta.  Before you add the pasta to the soup, check that there is enough liquid in the pot.  If not, add some boiling water.  Now, to the boiling soup, add the pasta and cook till al dente.  At this point, I like to add chopped parsley, but the glory of this soup will be undiminished if you prefer not to.  But do pour some of the remaining olive oil into the pot of soup, and drizzle some more into each bowl after you've ladled the soup in.  Serve with chili oil and parmesan on the side.

The Other Side of the World

I own an embarrassingly large number of cookbooks, but like many things, I have a few favorites that I find myself reaching for time after time...my desert island cookbooks if you will. This is a series of posts that will describe these books that make up my core collection. I hope that you find them and the recipes they contain as enjoyable and useful as I do.


Despite my extreme whiteness, I've always had a serious thing for ethnic foods. I don't know if it comes from growing up in an area that boasts a wide array of ethnic restaurants, growing up with a mother who cooked exotic foods on a regular basis (she has much affection for the cookbook author Madhur Jaffrey so we got a lot of delicious Indian dishes at dinnertime), or whether I just gravitate towards bright, assertive flavors.

Either way, I've got a lot of ethnic cookbooks. And one of my very top picks? The great tome of Thai...Hot Sour Salty Sweet.

This book is written by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid...a husband and wife team who seem to live the life of Ryan. They have a couple of kids, and as a family they travel around the world, living in various countries, studying the local cuisine during their stay, and then write beautiful cookbooks about the experience. They've done this with China (Beyond the Great Wall) and the Indian subcontinent (Mangoes and Curry Leaves), but my favorite is their ode to Southeast Asia.


Flipping through the book, the breathtaking images of rice paddies, piping hot noodle dishes and fresh vegetables from the markets will make you want to jump on a plane immediately. But as that is not a feasible option for most of us, cooking and eating the wonderful recipes the authors offer up is the next best thing.

It will stun you how good some of this stuff can be. Seemingly simple cucumber salads, yellow rice, stir fries all have unexpectedly vivid, complex flavors. Nothing like what you have likely experienced in your local Thai restaurant (unless of course, you happen to live in the neighborhood of Sripraphai). And this green curry below? To die for. Almost literally. I simply must insist that you make the curry paste (do not buy the canned stuff) as well as the curry. You will understand why once you take your first bite.

Duck In Green Curry Paste

Serves 4 to 6 as part of a rice meal

one 3 to 3 1/2 pound duck (alternatively, use boneless, skinless chicken thighs)
3 to 3 1/2 cups canned or fresh coconut milk, 1/4 cup of the thickest milk set aside
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg (optional)
4 to 5 tablespoons Green Curry Paste (recipe follows)
2 tablespoons Thai fish sauce
8 to 10 round Thai eggplants, stems removed and halved lengthwise, or substitute 1 1/2 cups coarsely chopped (1-inch cubes) Asian eggplant
8 to 10 fresh or frozen wild lime leaves
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/2 to 1 cup sliced (1/2 inch wide slices) mild to medium-hot green and red chiles
About 25 Asian or sweet basil leaves

Use a cleaver to cut the duck into pieces, leaving the meat on the bone. Cut the legs crosswise in two, otherwise, generally try to end up with pieces not more than 2 inches long. Trim off all the fat and fatty skin (or if using chicken thighs, cut up into bit-size pieces).

Place a heavy 6-quart or larger pot over medium heat. Add the 1/4 cup thick coconut milk and stir as it heats and melts, then cook for 5 minutes over medium-high heat, or until the oil starts to separate. If using nutmeg, stir it into the curry paste. Add the paste to the cooking coconut cream, together with 1 tablespoon of the fish sauce. Stir to blend well and continue to cook for about 5 minutes, stirring frequently. The paste will become very aromatic.

Add the duck/chicken pieces and turn to coat with the paste. Raise the heat to high and cook, turning occasionally, for about 5 minutes. Add the remaining coconut milk and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and cook at a strong simmer for 15 to 20 minutes. (The curry can be prepared ahead to this point and set aside for up to 24 hours, once cooled, in a well-sealed container in the refrigerator. Return to the heavy pot and bring to a simmer over medium heat when ready to proceed).

Add the eggplant, 5 to 6 of the lime leaves, the salt, and the remaining 1 tablespoon fish sauce and bring back to a boil. simmer for another 15 minutes. Taste and adjust the seasonings if you wish.

Just before you wish to serve the dish, add the chile slices, if using, the remaining lime leaves, and the basil leaves. Cook 1 more minute, then turn into a bowl and serve.

Green Curry Paste

Makes 1 cup paste

1 tablespoon coriander seeds
2 teaspoons cumin seeds
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
1/4 cup minced coriander roots
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/2 cup minced lemongrass (4 to 8 stalks)
1/4 cup coarsely chopped garlic
1/4 cup chopped shallots
2 tablespoons chopped galangal, or substitute 1 tablespoon minced ginger plus 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon minced wild lime zest, or substitute regular lime zest
1/2 cup bird chiles (preferably green ones), stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon shrimp paste

Place a heavy skillet over medium high heat. Add the coriander seeds and dry-roast, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon, until aromatic and beginning to change color, about 3 minutes. Transfer to a mortar or spice grinder and grind to a powder, then set aside. Use the same method to dry-roast the cumin seeds, about 1 minute, then grind to a powder and add to the ground coriander. Grind the peppercorns and add to the spice mixture.

Use a large mortar (I find a food processor to be fine) to reduce the ingredients to a paste. Place the coriander roots in the mortar with a pinch of the salt and pound until well softened and breaking down. Add the lemongrass and pound until it is well mashed. Add the garlic and another pinch of salt and continue pounding. Once the garlic is shapeless and breaking down, add the shallots and continue until broken down. Add the galangal and lime zest and pound and mash with another pinch of salt to a coarse paste. Add the spice blend and mash and pound until well combined. Add the chopped chiles and the remaining salt and pound until broken down and smooth. Set aside.

Place the shrimp paste on a piece of aluminum foil about 8 by 4 inches. Spread it out in a thin layer, then fold the foil over it to seal and make a flat package. Place a heavy skillet over high heat, put the foil package in the skillet, and cook for about 3 minutes on the first side, pressing it down onto the hot surface. Turn over and repeat on the other side. You should start to smell the hot shrimp paste. Remove from the heat, unwrap it, and add to the curry paste blend. Pound or stir thoroughly to blend. You'll smell all the aromas in the curry paste as it mixes with the hot shrimp paste.

Store the curry paste in a clean, dry, well-sealed glass jar in the refrigerator. It should keep for about a month.

I tend to make double this recipe and freeze it in saran wrap lined ice cube trays. This gives me 1 tablespoon cubes that I can easily access from the freezer whenever I'm in the mood for curry (i.e. frequently).

Slowing It Down

I own an embarrassingly large number of cookbooks, but like many things, I have a few favorites that I find myself reaching for time after time...my desert island cookbooks if you will. This is a series of posts that will describe these books that make up my core collection. I hope that you find them and the recipes they contain as enjoyable and useful as I do.

Paula Wolfert is one of those wonderful, old school west coast food enthusiasts who came up during the 60s.  She seems to focus almost exclusively on the book side of the business, and as a result her books are impeccably researched and the recipes strike me as having been tested quite extensively.  Which means it's pretty difficult to screw them up.  Thus, with a Paula Wolfert cookbook you really get your money's worth.

She tends to specialize in Mediterranean food (both the European side and the north African side), and since she spent many years living in the region (see what I mean about impeccable research?) she offers up quite a few dishes that you probably aren't familiar with.  We're not just talking tagines and cassoulets here folks.  Rather it's the kind of stuff that you end up eating when you go on one of those blissfully exotic vacations...you can't quite figure out what it is, you can't ever find it when you come home, and you continue to fantasize about it long after you've tasted it.

Now I'm told that all of her books (I believe there are nine) are true classics.  But I must admit that I am partial to The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen.  

I like the ethos of the book as a whole...that part of the joy of cooking comes with the time it takes to make a dish...not to say that the recipes are complex, simply that they are not fast.  For instance, there is a pork shoulder recipe that cooks for twelves hours but only requires about fifteen minutes of prep time.  It's quite a special dish, and feels languorous and luxurious somehow, despite the rather plebian cut of meat that it features.

In fact most of her recipes require fairly inexpensive ingredients.  They're just cooked long low and slow, and with the addition of a few bright, slightly unexpected ingredients, become a dish that is greater than the sum of its parts.

Lazy Lady Bulgar With Lamb, Walnuts, and Pistachios

From The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen by Paula Wolfert

Serves 4

1/2 pound ground lamb with some fat

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 cup chopped onion

1/3 cup pistachios, peeled

1/4 chopped walnuts

1 teaspoon Aleppo or Turkish red pepper

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

Pinch of ground allspice

1/2 tablespoon tomato paste

1/2 tablespoon Turkish red pepper paste

1 cup large-grain bulgur

1 tablespoon clarified butter, warmed

To prepare the filling:  Place the lamb, olive oil, and 1/2 teaspoon of the salt in a heavy 3-quart saucepan.  Cook, uncovered, over medium-high heat until the meat begins to exude its own moisture.  Add the onion, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook until the liquid is absorbed by the meat and onion.  At this point the meat and onion should begin to saute.  Mix in the pistachios, walnuts, Aleppo pepper, black pepper, and allspice.  Remove to a side dish.  Do not wash out the saucepan.

To prepare the pilaf, place 1 1/2 cups water in the same saucepan.  Bring to a boil and stir in the tomato paste, Turkish pepper paste, and remaining 1 teaspoon salt.  Stir in the bulgur.  Bring to a boil, cover, and cook over medium heat for 15 to 16 minutes, or until the bulgur is tender.  Stir in the warm clarified butter.

Make a well in the bulgur.  Spoon in the lamb filling and scrape some of the bulgur on top.  Cover tightly and set in a warm place for 15 minutes, or until the bulgur is completely swollen.  Use a long fork to stir and fluff the bulgur and filling. 

Turkish Red Lentil Soup With Paprika and Mint Sizzle

From the Slow Mediterranean Kitchen by Paula Wolfert

Serves 4

1 cup red lentils

1/3 cup grated onion

1/2 teaspoon crushed garlic

4 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 tablespoons white rice

1/2 canned tomatoes or 1 1/2 tablespoons tomato paste

sea salt

2 tablespoons flour

2 cups meat stock

1 teaspoons crushed dried mint, preferably Egyptian spearmint

2 teaspoons Turkish or Aleppo red pepper flakes

1 cup cubed bread croutons, fried in butter until golden

Rinse the lentils and drain.  Place the onion, garlic, and 1 tablespoon of the butter in a deep saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring gently for 5 minutes.  Add the lentils, rice, tomato and 1 1/2 quarts water.  Cover, bring to a boil, and skim carefully.  Cook, covered, over medium-low heat for 45 minutes, stirring occasionally.  The soup should develop a creamy consistency.  If desired, cool slightly, then press through a food mill.  Correct the seasoning with salt to taste.

Meanwhile, in a small skillet or saucepan, make a roux with the flour and 2 tablespoons of the butter until it reaches the color of hazelnuts and has a delightful aroma.  Gradually add the stock, stirring constantly until smooth.  Scrape the roux and stock mixture into the soup and cook, whisking, for 5 minutes.  Add salt to taste and cook for a few minutes longer.

Just before serving, make the paprika and mint sizzle.  Press the mint and pepper flakes through a fine sieve or whirl in a spice grinder to a fine powder.  In the same small skillet, melt remaining 1 tablespoon butter.  Add the powdered aromatics and heat until just sizzling.  Pour over the soup in swirls.  Cover and bring to the table.  Fold in the aromatic swirls just before ladling the soup into serving bowls.  Serve with croutons.

A World of Vegetables

I own an embarrassingly large number of cookbooks, but like many things, I have a few favorites that I find myself reaching for time after time...my desert island cookbooks if you will. This is a series of posts that will describe these books that make up my core collection. I hope that you find them and the recipes they contain as enjoyable and useful as I do.



Now I am certainly no vegetarian. I'm not a fanatic carnivore, but I do have a deep appreciation for a beautiful cut of meat. And insipid cuts of meat just make me angry (such a waste of the animal's life, don't you think?).


So that said, Vegetarian Cooking For Everyone by Deborah Madison may seem like a bit of an odd choice for one of my frequent flyer cookbooks.


But the fact of the matter is that I have never made anything from this book that has not been perfectly delicious. And not delicious in a "oh it's a good vegetable side dish" way. No, it is just delicious. Period. You don't even miss the meat.

I find that Deborah Madison excels particularly with baked goods...cakes, breads, souffles, pastries, tarts, pies, gratins...pretty much anything that goes in the oven, come to think of it. Her strictly vegetable dishes are of course great as well (would you expect anything less from the one-time owner of the legendary vegetarian restaurant Greens?) but I find the baked stuff to be the most transcendent.


The best recipes in Vegetarian Cooking have a certain elegance. They're familiar and yet all have a novel twist. You have to think a bit while you're eating...you wonder what makes something so...normal, I suppose, so good. No disrespect to the gentleman, but as soon as you taste one of her dishes you just know that a woman is behind it. They're not flashy or aggressive in any way, just graceful and uncomplicated.


Yeasted Sugar Cake
From Vegetarian Cooking For Everyone by Deborah Madison


Serves 10-12


The Cake


2 1/4 teaspoons (1 envelope) active dry yeast
1/4 cup sugar
2 cups flour, plus extra for the counter
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup warm milk
2 eggs, at room temperature
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature


The Topping


2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1/4 cup light brown sugar or white sugar


Stir the yeast and 1 teaspoon of the sugar into 1/4 cup warm water in a small bowl and let stand until foamy, about 10 minutes. Combine the flour, remaining sugar, and salt in a mixing bowl. Add the yeast, milk and eggs and beat until smooth. Add the butter and beat vigorously until the batter is silky. Scrape down the sides, then cover and let rise until doubled in bulk, about 45 minutes.


Lightly butter a 9-inch tart pan or cake pan. Stir down the down, turn it onto a lightly floured counter, and gently shape it into a disk. Set it in the pan and flatten it with your hands. Rub the softened butter all over the top, then cover with the sugar, using all of it. Let rise for 30 minutes. During the last 15 minutes, preheat the oven to 400 degrees.


Bake the cake in the center of the oven until well-risen and the sugar has begun to melt and brown, about 25 minutes. The surface should be covered with cracks. When done, let it cool briefly, then unmold and serve, still a little warm, with fruit and softly whipped cream.


Variations: Add 1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest to the batter along with 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract or 1/2 teaspoon crushed anise seeds. A half cup of finely ground almonds and a drop of almond extract are also good additions.






Spinach Souffle
From Vegetarian Cooking For Everyone by Deborah Madison


Serves 4


Unsalted butter, plus 2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan, for the dish
1 large bunch of spinach, washed very well
1 1/4 cups milk or cream
Aromatics: 1 bay leaf, several thyme springs, 2 thin onion slices
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 diced shallot
3 tablespoons flour
salt and freshly milled pepper
Pinch cayenne
4 egg yolks
1 cup grated strong flavored cheese (I use Gruyere, but goat cheese or Fontina would also work well here)
6 egg whites
Several plump thyme springs, leaves only.


Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Butter a 6-cup souffle dish or an 8-cup gratin dish and coat it with Parmesan. Heat the milk with the aromatics until it boils. Set it aside to steep for 15 minutes, then strain.


Cook the spinach leaves with the water clinging to them until tender, then finely chop and season with salt, pepper, and a pinch of nutmeg.


Melt the butter in a saucepan. When foamy, add the shallot and saute gently for a few minutes, until translucent. Stir in the flour and cook over low heat for several minutes. Whisk in the milk all at once and stir vigorously for a minute or so as it thickens, then add 1/4 teaspoon salt, a few twists of pepper, and the cayenne. Remove from heat. Beat in the egg yolks one at a time until well blended, then stir in the cheese. Don't worry about getting it smooth.


Beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt until they form firm peaks, the stir a quarter of them into the base to lighten the mixture. Fold in the rest, transfer to the prepared dish, then put in the center of the oven and lower the heat to 375 degrees. Bake for 30 minutes or until golden and just a bit wobbly in the center. Remove, scatter the thyme over the top, and serve immediately.

Italy By Way Of London

I own an embarrassingly large number of cookbooks, but like many things, I have a few favorites that I find myself reaching for time after time...my desert island cookbooks if you will. This is a series of posts that will describe these books that make up my core collection. I hope that you find them and the recipes they contain as enjoyable and useful as I do.

The River Cafe was opened in London in 1987, by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers.

These two women had both spent considerable time living (and presumably cooking) in Tuscany, so the restaurant was centered around their interpretation of Italian farmhouse cooking. Sort of a precursor to Mario Batali I suppose.

They were one of the earlier adopters of the seasonal, top-quality ingredient philosophy, and given the continued prominence of the restaurant, not only in London but in America as well, it is perhaps unsurprising that many of today's successful chefs, including Jamie Oliver and April Bloomfield, got their start in the kitchen of the River Cafe. And it certainly does not hurt the success of the restaurant that the very great architect Richard Rogers (husband of Ruth) oversaw the construction/renovation of the restaurant (the building was previously an oil storage facility).

The dining room:

The kitchen (and very impressive oven):

Eventually, these two ladies wrote several cookbooks, my favorite of which is The River Cafe Cookbook.

First of all, they have edited this book extremely well. I cannot find one recipe in here that I either haven't already cooked and enjoyed, or that I don't want to try at some point. Second of all, every recipe is simple...deliciously so. You'd be hard pressed to find a recipe with more than ten ingredients, and I am always shocked and overjoyed by how fabulously good such simple food can be.

I've included a couple of recipes from the cookbook (quite honestly I was having an extraordinarily hard time whittling the choices down) to whet your appetites:

Penne with a Quick Sausage Sauce

The River Cafe Cookbook, by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers

Serves 6

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 small red onions, peeled and chopped

5 Italian spiced, fresh pork sausages, meat removed from skins and crumbled

1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh rosemary

2 bay leaves

2 small dried chiles, crumbled

800 g can peeled plum tomatoes, drained and chopped

sea salt and freshly ground pepper

250 g (9 oz) penne

150 ml (5 oz) heavy cream

120 g (4 1/2 oz) Parmesan, freshly grated

In a large saucepan, heat the oil and fry the onion until light brown. Add the crumbled sausage, the rosemary, bay leaves and chili. Fry together over a high heat, stirring to mash the sausages. Remove all but 1 tablespoon of the fat, and continue to cook for 20 minutes. The sausagemeat should become brown and disintegrate. Add the tomatoes, stir and return to a boil. Remove from the stove.

Cook the penne in a generous amount of boiling salted water, then drain thoroughly.

Stir the cream into the sauce along with the drained penne and half the Parmesan. Serve with the remaining Parmesan.

Note: In the book there is also a version of this recipe called Penne With A Slow-Cooked Sausage Sauce that is similar, but takes about five times as long. It also is delicious (much richer tasting than the recipe above due to the longer cooking time) and cooking it is a great way to spend a cold winter afternoon.

This next recipe is phenomenal. The perfect example of minimal but great ingredients manipulated to make something inordinately wonderful.

Pork Braised With Vinegar

The River Cafe Cookbook, by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers

4-5 pound boned loin of young organic pork, rind and most of the fat removed

sea salt

2 tablespoons olive oil

150 ml (5 fl oz) red wine vinegar

150 ml (5 fl oz) Chianti Classico

1 tablespoon black peppercorns

12 fresh bay leaves

Generously season the pork with salt.

In a heavy saucepan with a lid, heat the olive oil and brown the meat on all sides. Remove the meat and put to one side. Lower the heat and pour the vinegar into the pan. Bring to a boil, and reduce the liquid by half. Add the wine, 100 ml (4 fl oz) water, the peppercorns and bay leaves and lower the heat to a simmer.

Return the pork to the pan and turn to coat it in the juices. Put the lid on but slightly askew. Simmer very gently for an hour, turning the meat two or three times during cooking. If the juices seem to be drying up, add a little more wine or water.

When the meat is cooked (still soft when prodded), turn off the heat, add extra salt to the juices, and let the pork relax for 5 minutes. Slice and serve with the juices and the bay leaves.