Ancient Veggies and Slowly Braised Pork Belly by Eric Ospital. Świerząbek – popie jajka i wolno duszony boczek Erica Ospital.

Sometime I find a recipe which I would like to cook right away, but for some reasons it must “wait”, like a good wine.  More than one year ago, when I was in Paris, my husband was awaiting surgery. We were sitting one Sunday morning in the kitchen and we were listening to the program about cooking “On va deguster” which is broadcasted every Sunday on France Inter, a French public radio station. Chefs, pastry chefs, famous bloggers and food producers are invited to the program. On va deguster reminds me that when I was a small girl, I was often sick. When I was sick, I used to stay home alone. I was reading books, but the radio had to be turned on all the time. You might not know about that, but in the middle of the eighties, in Poland, we had only two TV channels and there were no programs for kids during the day.  There was no video recorder in my family. The radio was the only option to be entertained. 

Coming back to this program which we listened to one year ago: it was about pork meat. The special guest of the program was, inter alia, Eric Ospital, a renowned producer of pork and hams from the south of France - close to the Pyrenees (he produces, inter alia, Jambon Ibaiona, Jambon Pays Basque). Today’s recipe is his recipe for a slowly braised pork belly. Why I decided to cook this? Because the idea of this pork belly is to have two textures – “fondant et croquant” – soft, nearly melting meat – “fondant” and covered by crispy external crust ("croquant").  He advises to braise the pork belly for 12 hours. In my case 8 hours were sufficient (I used a relatively small piece of pork belly).  The finishing in butter gives the crispy texture outside. 

I served it with baked, winter, ancient vegetables: “racine de cerfeuil” (tuberous-rooted chervil, bulbous chervil), yellow – violet rutabaga (swede), yellow turnips, Jerusalem artichokes, potatoes and carrots – baked with fresh bay leaves and fresh rosemary. 

Do you know “racine de cerfeuil”? In latin it is called Chaerophyllum bulbosum, in English “tuberous-rooted chervil”, “bulbous chervil”. It is root vegetable which was popular in the past (allegedly a specie from the carrot family), a native of Europe and Western Asia.  The tuberous-rooted chervil was a popular vegetable in the 19th century. 

This mysterious rooted chervil was also known in Poland and was called “świerząbek”. And you will not believe, but it is mentioned as “popie jajka” (“priest  testicles”) in the first Polish cookbook – the famous Compendium Ferculorum, written and published in the  17th century (described in details in my January post. 

The vegetable can be eaten raw (thinly sliced, sprinkled with olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper), it may be boiled, baked or fried. It is starchy, like topinambur and potatoes (especially once baked in the oven), but sweet like parsley root or parsnip. It grows in Poland in fields, as topinambour (Jerusalem artichoke), but I do not believe that it is available in any store in Poland. Now forgotten in Britain and in the United States, allegedly root chervil is still used in French cuisine, in soups or stews. One more thing: after two weeks in Paris, I have an impression that topinambour is as common as potatoes. I have checked: one can buy topinambour in every food market in Paris, in food stores like Monoprix, in stores with bio food (Bio c’bon), Naturalia,and even in food discount stores. The price is between 3 and 4 euro a kilo.

I found the rooted chervil two weeks ago, on the food market boulevard Raspail – the one, where I used to do my shopping every Tuesday and every Friday when we lived rue de Bérite. Almost everything looks the same.  The same “poissonniers” sell fresh seafood, the same man in glasses pushing you to buy vegetables and the same guy selling farmers’ cheeses. One thing was new – Americans selling specialties including burgers straight from “a food truck”. They called themselves “Cantina California”.  It seems that "street food" is trendy in Paris, which is not so obvious, because: a) a typical French person hates to eat with hands – and the burgers the American guys sell are huge and juicy and you HAVE to eat them with your hands b) a typical French person does not eat outside, standing up – he or she MUST sit down; c) a typical French person does not like to eat in a hurry.  The first “food truck” in Paris was “Le camion qui Fume” which appeared in some Parisian streets in November 2011 and it was a huge success. The “Cantina California”, the competitor, which has only been in business for a few months is also successful. Both published their burgers cookbooks which are available in Fnac stores. 

Slowly Braised Pork Belly (by Eric Ospital)

Ingredients:

(serves 2) 

500-600 g raw, nice pork belly (as it does not contain too much meat, you should count around 300 grams per person (which includes abound 120 grams of meat)

2 grains all spice

Few brines fresh thyme

2 bay leaves (most possibly, fresh ones)

2 small carrots, peeled and washed, cut into slices

2 medium onions, cut into halves

1 liter chicken stock

1 medium leek (white part), washed and cut into slices

50 g butter

Black pepper grains

Chives, finely chopped, for garnishing

Salt

Pepper

1.Brown onions on a dry frying pan or over the fire. Place pork belly in a saucepan. Add carrots, onions, thyme, laurel leaves, all spice, pepper grains and cover with the stock (if you do not have enough, add some white wine or water). Bring to a boil and then reduce the heat to a minimum and cook under the cover for 12 hours. You should check the cooking time because my pork belly was “fondant” after 8 hours. 

2. Cool down and refrigerate overnight.

3. On the next day: cut the pork belly into thick slices. Heat the pan, reduce the heat to a minimum, add butter and melt it. Place pieces of belly in the pan, it should caramelize on all sides between 20-30 minutes, until it is brown and crispy. Sprinkle with chives or parsley, serve with vegetables (the recipe below) and also with a green salad (for digestion) as advised by Eric Ospital.

Roasted Ancient Root Vegetables

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

2 medium Jerusalem artichoke (topinambour) - around 100 g

150 g racine de cerfeuil (tuberous-rooted chervil) around 6 pieces

1 medium rutabaga (around 100 g)

1 medium yellow turnip (“boule d’or) 

1 medium potato  

1 carrot

Fresh rosemary 

Fresh thyme

Olive oil

3-4 bay leaves

Salt

Pepper

Peel and wash vegetables. Dry them out. Cut into strips (French fries type). Pour olive oil and mix. Salt generously, pepper. Place in a pan, add rosemary, thyme and bay leaves. Bake in the oven preheat to 180 degrees for around 30 minutes, occasionally mixing. Serve with braised pork belly.

Smacznego !

Revisiting Recipes from 17th Century Part 2. Sweet and Sour Journey to Baroque Poland – Braised Lamb with Capers and Raisins. Topinambour.

Hello, let’s start today with discovering Old Polish cuisine, as announced in my previous long post. You know what I was doing last Saturday and Sunday?  I spent entire Saturday chopping, peeling, slicing, dicing, cooking and trying to understand how to deal with ancient recipes from the 17^th century written in archaic Polish language. I cooked a few dishes. I discovered new food compositions and I will share those recipes with you in upcoming posts, one by one. Have a look at the teaser below:

When I finished my cooking, it was already dark. Because I photograph my meals only using day light, I got up early on Sunday, did the session and shot the pictures in bizarre positions which made my back hurt like hell. 

Below is the reprint of the first Polish cookbook by Stanisław Czerniecki.  It is not an easy “cookbook”. It does not provide for any measurements or proportions so, really, you have to rely on your own imagination, taste and some historical knowledge which fortunately is presented in an interesting and very well written introduction of professor Jarosław Dumanowski. The book, published recently within a series called “Monumenta Poloniae Culinaria”  - is an elegant and very nicely published work of 240 pages done by the Wilanów Museum in Warsaw, the Nicolas Copernicus University in Toruń and Lubomirski Foundation. There are 333 recipes, which are short, even extremely brief (“take an animal, cut it into smaller parts, cook it, and in the middle of cooking add this and that”). Fortunately the book contains a glossary of old Polish culinary terms and quite a lot of reproductions of old paintings and pictures which somehow guide you.

Remember that the recipes presented below reflect my personal attempts to test ancient, Old Polish cuisine rather than an attempt to reconstruct an authentic taste and flavor which – as I wrote in my last post – probably would not be edible according to our present taste. Those cooks of the 17^th century  used to add too much pepper, sugar and acids. I started with the dish which I liked most - braised lamb roll - which I decided to do at the last minute, after I discovered that I had some spare, cheap lamb’s meat, perfect for braising. The combination of acid and salty capers with sweet raisins and vinegar, enhanced by home made veal stock was tasty, in particular with an ancient root vegetable called Jerusalem artichokes fried with goose grease, rosemary and garlic. Jerusalem artichoke was very common in Poland 200 or 300 years ago but disappeared completely from Polish tables and menus. I tried it for the first time two years ago. A week ago, I was given one kilogram of these interesting roots by my friend, who writes an excellent blog about wines. The Jerusalem artichoke arrived in Old Poland, to the best of my knowledge, from America and became popular later on. Nowadays you will not buy it in the groceries. People who have family houses in the countryside say that it grows widely in many locations, it is extremely expansive as a plant, so it is not so difficult to find.

Sweet and Sour Braised Lamb Rolls with Capers and Raisins

(słodko – kwaśna rolada jagnięca z kaparami i czosnkiem)

For this type of dish you can use a cheaper and greasier type of meat like, for example, ribs - once you separate the meat from the bones, you can roll the meat and tight it with a string; such a meat in my opinion is best when braised slowly so it melts into your mouth. However, you can use other meats like poultry, goose, duck or veal. Pork would be fine as well, although don't forget that in 17th and 18th century Old Polish cuisine pork was not popular at all. My addition to the recipe has been homemade veal stock as well as wine, to enhance the taste. It was pretty delicious!

Makes 1 roll, serves 2 small portions

300 g boneless lamb's brisket (or any other type of meat which will be good for rolls – not necessarily lamb)

100 ml veal stock (optional)

200 ml stock (meat or vegetable)

Clarified butter / goose grease for frying

3 tablespoons white wine vinegar

100 ml white wine

12 caper berries or 30 capers

1 garlic clove, chopped

1 handful raisins (soaked in some liquid or stock beforehand)

1 tea spoon brown sugar

½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

Pepper

Salt

String

Rub the meat (at room temperature) with salt and pepper on both sides and with garlic on the inner side. Roll the meat tightly and knot it with string. In a sticky saucepan, warm the grease (clarified butter) and fry the meat on all sides. Don't burn it. Put into a small skillet. Deglaze the pan with white wine and pour the liquid into the skillet. Pour the stock, veal stock and braise until soft (in my case, it took nearly 2 hours – the meat was of a rather poor quality - it needs long,  slow cooking). Occasionally check if the juices did not evaporate, pour some juices with a ladle over the meat. When the meat is nearly soft, add caper berries, raisins with the soaking liquid, cinnamon, vinegar. Play with you taste and adjust accordingly. At the end, add sugar, salt and pepper. My guess that this dish should be sweet and sour. Cut into slices, and serve with sauteed topinambur. If you do not have any, make a pea puree or millet (potatoes were not eaten in Poland in the 17th century).

Jerusalem Artichoke with Rosemary and Garlic

(topinambur z rozmarynem i czosnkiem)

Serves 2 small portions

250 g Jerusalem artichoke (topinambour), delicately peeled and washed and diced (if you do this in advance, keep the vegetable in water with some vinegar to prevent it from  darkening)

1 hipped tablespoon, fresh chopped rosemary

2 small garlic cloves, chopped

100 ml white wine

1-2 tablespoons goose grease or clarified butter

Salt

Pepper

Heat a saucepan. Once hot, add the grease and Jerusalem artichoke (if kept in water before, dry it out with a paper towel). Sauté for one minute over a quite high heat and add garlic, sauté for one more minute being careful -  do not burn the garlic. Add wine and cook over a quite high heat until wine evaporates - approximately 5-10 minutes. In the meantime, add rosemary.  Once the Jerusalem artichoke is quite soft, add salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot as a side dish to your meat.

Bon appétit! 

Capon and Topinambour (1). Preword to the Series Regarding Old Polish Cuisine. Hunter's Stew. Famous Bigos.

Have you ever eaten capon or topinambour? For some time, I have been reading a lot about Old Polish cuisine and I am planning to start reviewing truly old Polish recipes, some of them having origins as early as in the 17^th century. I want to show you how Polish cuisine was evolving and how multicultural it was. Such recipes, quite often, are difficult to recreate because the products that were popular 200 or 300 years ago are hardly available nowadays, like capons or topinambour.

In September, I participated in an event designated to Old Polish 17^th century cuisine and Polish wines, titled “Capon and figatelle – the story about Old Polish cuisine”. It took place in Winoman, a wine bar and restaurant in Kraków. The lecture and the dinner were moderated by professor Jarosław Dumanowski,  historian at the Nicolaus Copernicus University in Toruń. He specializes in the history and culture of nutrition. Do you know anything about Old Polish cuisine and Polish wines? You think that maybe it was “poulet et patates” or “pork and cabbage”? Not exactly. That food had nothing to do with what Poles eat nowadays. In the old recipes, dated from the 17^th and the 18^th centuries, one will rather not find any pork meat or any potatoes. The most popular meat was capons – castrated cocks. Potatoes were popularized much later. The cuisine of old Poland was multicultural and influenced by Ukrainians, Jews, Lithuanians, Czechs, Prussians, Hungarians, Tatars etc. In their authentic 17^th century version, those dishes would be extremely difficult to swallow (at least for us, Poles). Sensitivity of our taste buds changed over hundreds of years… At Winoman, dishes served to us were only inspired by those authentic ones from the 17^th century. Otherwise they would hardly be edible.

The history of food and nutrition means, inter alia, extensive research of historical sources and books. In Poland, we had just a few titles that were discovered and reprinted recently. To say the truth, there is one and only monumental Polish cookbook dating from the period before the partitions of Poland, titled Compendium Ferculorum. The book had been printed out in Kraków, and its author, Stanisław Czerniecki, was a cook of the aristocratic Lubomirscy clan at their castle in Nowy Wiśnicz in southern Poland – I ordered it via internet and once it arrives I will write more about it.

In the baroque era, Old Polish cuisine was based on strong, explicit tastes, like, for example, pepper, saffron, sour and sweet. The flavors should had been mixed and changed – most notably, in such a way that it was hard to recognize what was served at the table (this reminds me times of communism when poor quality of food served in some restaurants made their patrons  unable to recognize what was served to them.

During September dinner we had a chance to taste four dishes inspired by baroque cuisine as well as eight different Polish wines. Forgive me moderate quality of the pictures.

Boneless carp

Carp is probably most popular fish in Poland, especially during Christmas Season and the tradition of its culture on the territories of Poland is centuries long. Some of the species, like “carp zatorski” have been registered in the European Union as regional products. However, despite the fact that the fish is commonly cultured in Poland, my impression is that the mediocrity of communism killed the variety of carp recipes. Carp served to us at Winoman was boneless, previously macerated, then fried in butter with the addition of some grated bread. The flesh of the fish was sour, thanks to the addition of vinegar. The acidity of the flesh was broken by cranberry preserves, sweet onion, raisins and sugar. I could also sense quite strong taste of pepper and cinnamon. The fish was decorated with a wedge of lime (which I squeezed on my fish fillet to make it more sour). The mixture of flavors and aromas was more similar to some of the Asian food than to contemporary Polish cuisine.

Aromatic sturgeon in butter

Sturgeon – one of the most popular fresh water fish – was served with sweet onion, parsley, wine, raisins, cinnamon and muscatel.  The taste of “4 spices” dominated, but despite the fact that I am not an afficionado of cinnamon, the flavors of the fish flex were well balanced. The fish was served with a pea purée and blanched leaves of Brussels sprouts. In the old times Poland potatoes were non-edible. Instead, old fashioned vegetables like topinambour or peas were widespread.

Półgęsek

Besides capons, goose meat was quite popular hence the population of those birds was huge. After the WWII, geese practically disappeared from the stores. (You can find out more about young oat Polish goose - “gęś owsiana” here). Półgęsek – cold-smoked goose breasts has become more and more popular again, but it is still not easy to buy in retail grocery stores; I believe that the majority of its production goes to food festivals and restaurants. We were served thin slices of “półgęsek” with cherry preserves. It was a simple and tasty starter, however the amount of slices was minuscule so I could not delight myself enough with the taste of this excellent regional Polish specialty.

Figatelle

The The Figatelle dish had nothing to do with Italian cooking. In Old Polish cuisine, pork meat was very rare, and meat balls made from the mixture of veal and capon meat with the addition of buffalo grease, pepper, nutmeg, raisins and eggs were common. In the old times they were served as a side dish to the main courses.

At the end, Professor Dumanowski told us a few lines about the most popular meat in Old (three hundred years ago) Poland which was capon. Today, you will not find this meat neither in the restaurant nor in the stores. I had capon meat a few times in my life, but that  was in France as my mother-in-law used to bake it. More about capons in the future posts.

Bigos (contemporary hunters stew)

Bigos is a traditional stew typical for Polish and Lithuanian cuisines. Many consider it to be the Poland's national dish No.1. Indeed, bigos has an extremely long tradition in Poland. Some say that bigos can be traced back to the middle ages. It is said that bigos was introduced in Poland by Jagiełło, a Lithuanian prince who became the king of Poland in the 14^th century and established long lasting union between two states. To make a long story short, nowadays bigos consists of a long-braised mixture of various types of meats and sauerkraut. However two or three hundred years ago cabbage was even not added to it ! Instead, a lot of lime juice, wine and vinegar were put into the dish. When Poland gradually became more and more impoverished in the 18^th Century, lime and expensive spices usage was greatly reduced and, to keep sour taste of bigos, people started to add cheap pickled (fermented with salt) cabbage, today internationally known as sauerkraut. I will cook cabbage-free bigos in a future recipe (when I receive my old Poland cookbook). Today, I propose my mum's version (my dad’s version is slightly different), which is very tasty. I love to eat it in the winter time.

In the old times, bigos was stored in every household’s pantries in big stone or clay pots, ready to be served to unexpected guests or as a provision for long trips. If anyone asks me about the most traditional and yet most pauperized Polish dish during the communism – the answer is instant: bigos. As almost everything in the Polish cooking after the war, this old and rich dish was brutally simplified due to, among others, food shortcomings caused by inefficient economy which instead of free market – was politically driven. I remember it from my school years as a few shredded leaves of poor quality cabbage swimming in an awful dirty sour sauce-like liquid. This had nothing to do with real bigos, which needs many ingredients and the art of patient long and repeatable cooking.  Even today, in many cheap eateries or “milk bars” you can order an ersatz of bigos, meaning cooked cabbage with a bit of sausage added.

There exist many variations of this flagship of the Polish cuisine and the one that I present in my book is what I was taught by my mom. Remember: there is no standard recipe for bigos. It’s just like with paella in Spain or with bouillabaisse in southern France. Recipes vary from region to region and from family to family being the very nucleus of people’s culinary pride and honor. There are, however, certain rules and the set of basic ingredients: hours long, slow cooking, different types of meat and cold cuts, an addition of dried smoked plums (prunes), dried forest mushrooms and spices. The base is always sauerkraut, sometimes some sweet cabbage added is added, various cuts of meats, hams and sausages, tomato paste, honey, sour apples, bay leaves, allspice, cloves, mustard and red wine. In my family bigos is cooked traditionally between Christmas and New Year's when various meats leftovers are available, so it is ready for Sylwester – the New Year’s Eve party and it often crowns it when served at early morning hours to refresh exhausted party guests. And last but not least, Polish style: it tastes great with frozen vodka.

Few tips: bigos must have a dense solid consistence. It should be rich with meat. It is said that the best proportions are: half meat and half cabbage, although this depends on your own preferred taste. It is important that almost all juices slowly evaporate while cooking. When served, you should not have any liquid left on the plate. My father cooks bigos for a few days. Several hours of braising on a very low burner (frequently stirring so the mixture would not stick to the bottom of the pot) and then onto the balcony where it freezes overnight. The following day this procedure repeats. And then again, for a day or two until bigos is fully macerated and all flavors combine into one unique blend. And half a bottle of red wine goes into the pot for the final twenty minutes of warming the dish up before serving.

I do not add tomato concentrate. Some recipes advise to do so, which, in my opinion, is incorrect. You can add types of meat other than those indicated in the recipe like greasy duck, goose, venison, ham and sausages. The wider variety of meats - the better. Bigos should be quite spicy in taste, a bit sour, with an explicit wine aftertaste. The meat should be completely soft, nearly melted like in French rilettes. You can replace prunes with a couple of spoons of plums preserves (powidła). You can make it fifty-fifty of sauerkraut and white cabbage. In such a case, white cabbage should be finely chopped and separately precooked until half-soft.

And bigos is one of those dishes that taste better with the flow of time. It tastes best after 3 days of cooking and refrigerating. Considering long cooking time and plethora of ingredients, it is not worth preparing for 4 people only. Cook the big quantity. Bigos freezes easily and when thawed - – it will still be delicious or even better !

My Mum's Polish Hunter's Stew (Bigos)

Cooking time – 3 days (3 x 1-1,5 hour) 

Serves 10

Ingredients:

1.5 kg sour cabbage (you may use 50/50 sour and regular white cabbage, however I prefer bigos made only with sour cabbage)

400 g raw, smoked bacon cut in strips 3 cm long

650 g pork shoulder, cut in cubes of 1.5 cm

650 g beef, for example shank (prega wolowa – do gotowania), cut in cubes 1.5 cm

2 onions, peeled and washed, finely chopped

120 g dried, smoked plums, without seeds and cut into halves

50 g dried ceps

30 g sultan raisins

3 bay leaves

8 grains allspice

8 grains juniper berries

10 grains black pepper

3-4 cloves

500 ml meat stock

500 ml dry red wine

4 tablespoons goose grease

2 tablespoons flour

salt

pepper

Prepare the cabbage: Chop it finely. Squeeze it in hands and remove any excess of sour juice saving it for later adding it to the dish if necessary. Place the cabbage in a large saucepan, add onions and spices: bay leaves, cloves, juniper, allspice and pepper. Pour half of bullion into the cabbage and onions and mix everything.

Cook for hour and a half, until cabbage and onions are soft, on a small flame and stir often, so the cabbage does not stick to the bottom. Put aside.

Prepare the meat: In the meantime, prepare the meat. Put the pork and veal in two separate bowls. Sprinkle them with a bit of flour and mix. Heat two saucepans or frying pans and melt 2 tablespoons of goose grease in each pan. When the grease is hot, put pork and beef into the pans, sauteé them and cook under the cover over a medium flame until soft for around one hour. If necessary, add some beef or veal stock. Stir frequently. In a hot frying pan, cook the bacon until the grease is fully released. When the bacon and meats are done, place them in the saucepan with cabbage and mix well. Simmer for another hour, stirring often. Remove from the heat, let it cool down completely and put overnight into the fridge or outdoor.

Finish your bigos: On the next day, put mushrooms into 500 ml of water and let them soak overnight. Soak  raisins in 100 ml of water. On the next day, cook mushrooms for 10 minutes. Remove bigos from the cold place. Strain the mushrooms and raisins, reserve the bullion. Cut mushrooms into strips (0.5 cm wide) and add them to bigos. Add raisins and plums, mushroom stock, mix well and cook over a small flame for another hour and a half. Mix often.

When all juices evaporate, add wine and let it cook until wine evaporates completely. Mix often, do not let bigos burn ! Salt and pepper to taste, if too sour add some honey. You can serve it immediately, however it tastes best after at least one more night in the cold place and one more hour of cooking. Serve with good organic bread. Don’t forget about a shot of vodka !

Bon appétit !

And yet something for those who know all meanders of our beautiful Polish language. My father has been cooking for decades but from time to time he also writes funny culinary poems and plans to publish them soon. The hero of one of his pieces is bigos, this icon of our national cuisine. It comes in a form of a classic sonnet:

Sonet bigośny

            Stanąłem dziś przy beczce kiszonej kapusty

            Świątecznej kaczuszki resztek mam ci w domu fest

            Do tego szyneczka, boczuś, co tam jeszcze jest

            Grzybki, śliwki, jałowiec i reszta rozpusty

            Bigos warzę raz w roku, on wszak mrozu łaknie

            Na ogień, na balkon, na ogień, na balkon - tak !

            Gdy zaniedbasz tę rutynę, wyjdzie byle jak

            Niby będzie miał wszystko – lecz mu duszy zbraknie

            Maceruj go, maceruj, aż sczeźnie do imentu

            Przegryzaj go, przegryzaj, kapusty zakłóć woń

            Wszystko to zapisuj, aż braknie atramentu

            A gdy dojdzie już on, winem podchmiel go wreszcie

            Winem się uszlachetni i będzie mógł pójść w świat

            Bigosować ! Naród niech sławi się ! Nareszcie !

Copyright by Krzysztof W. Kasprzyk, 2011

Christmas Recipes. Pheasant à la Teresa.

I believe that really a lot of people like memories of the  times when they were kids. In my case, I have been coming back to the old times, meaning when I was a child, since my daughter was born. I wrote quite a lot on this blog about my childhood which took place in the eighties, so I will not be repeating myself today.

Today's recipe was given years ago to my parents by their good friends:  Teresa and  Jan. They both died already a good few years ago. They never had kids. Teresa was a well known journalist in Krakow. Her husband, Jan was the author of many books about Kraków (like, for example: Kraków from A to Z).

The recipe below would have disappeared, completely forgotten, in one of my Mum's kitchen drawers, but I found it three years ago, and I copied it. Jan, except for being a well known person in Kraków, was as well an enthusiastic hunter. The inseparable member of this couple, which (as I mentioned) never had their own children, was a gundog named Igor. Jan used to always take Igor hunting with him.

Quite often, we had been invited to their summer house, close to Kraków. I loved their big wooden house, full of mysteries and secrets. And always we were served some delicious food there. I remember some venison dishes - meat which you could not find in regular shops in the eighties.

Teresa was a master in the preparation of hunter style dishes. It is quite a pity that probably most of her recipes disappeared over time. I still have a strong sentiment of tenderness for those people and the great time I always had at their place. I will always remember her as an older lady smoking cigarettes, and Jan – as a calm guy in glasses.

Pheasant à la Teresa

Serves 4

Ingredients:

1 pheasant of around 1.2 – 1.4 kg or 2 small ones of 700 g

300 ml dry red wine

40 ml cognac

1 bunch chives, washed and finely chopped

2 table spoons goose grease

150 ml crème fraîche

2 table spoons Polish mustard, optionally Dijon mustard

100 g butter

200 g pork’s back fat, non salted, cut into strips of around 0.3 cm thick and 12 cm long

150 g chicken liver

Sautee the pheasant: Season the bird with salt and pepper. In a hot frying pan, melt goose grease and roast the bird on all sides for around 5 minutes. Then pour cognac onto the bird, light with a lighter and flambé.

Bake the pheasant: Preheat the oven to 165 degrees. Place the bird in a baking pan, sprinkle with 150 ml of red wine, cover with strips of the pork’s fat and put into the oven. Bake at 165 degrees for between 1h15 minutes to 1h30 minutes. From time to time, check the meat and sprinkle it with its own juice, eventually with some more wine. Be careful, the juice should not evaporate.

Prepare chicken livers: In the meantime, chop the livers finely. In a hot frying pan, melt the butter and add livers. Keep them over low heat for around 10 minutes, until cooked. Put aside.

Finish the pheasant: Remove the pheasant from the oven, switch the oven off, place the pheasant on a cutting board and cut it into equal parts. Throw away the pork’s fat. Place in a saucepan, cover with aluminum foil and put into the warm oven (the oven must be switched off).

Finish the sauce: Remove the excess of grease from the baking pan, in which the bird was cooked and throw it away. Place the baking pan over the heat, add remaining wine and cook on a low flame for around 10 minutes, until the sauce is reduced. Add livers with butter, mustard and cream. Mix everything and cook for about 3 minutes. At the very end, add 2/3 of chives and mix. Cook for one minute. Remove the pan from the heat. Strain the sauce using a thin strainer; pour it into a sauce-boat. Season with salt and pepper according to your taste. Remove the meat from the oven. Serve immediately, most preferably with sautéed or mashed potatoes, Silesiandumplings, kopytka (little hooves) accompanied by lingonberry preserves, pickled pears, cranberry preserves, shredded beetroots and red cabbage – the recipe for traditional red cabbage will be presented in a following post.

Goose Confit and “Barlotto”. St. Martin’s Day. Polish Independence Day.

November the 11^th is not only Independence Day in Poland, but it is also Saint Martin's Day - which has been celebrated in Europe since ages, and came to Poland from France via Germany. In the past, St. Martin’s Day used to mark the beginning of the goose season.

Since a few years, we also have here in Poland, in November, a public event organized, most notably, by Slow Food Polska -  “Gęsina na św. Marcina”  – which means “goose tastes best on St. Martin’s fest”. The event has been advertised in the media, including TV, as well as in the Polish Parliament. Why? The answer is very simple: goose meat was one of the most popular ones before the Second World War. After 1945 it disappeared nearly completely from our tables, like some other meat and fish. Before 1939, every November, young geese were traditionally killed and eaten for St. Martin’s Day.

Those intelligent birds are nowadays again produced in Poland (mostly in the north of the country). Poland is the largest European producer and exporter of goose meat, so one could think that it should be easily available in the whole country. That is wrong. To find fresh goose meat in stores is a nightmare. In particular here, in the south of Poland. Moreover, around 90 per cent of all its production is exported to Germany and other European countries, where it enjoys a very good reputation for its quality and its taste. I hope that this will change sooner than later and that Poles will have goose meat in every good grocery store.

Exceptional young Polish oat goose (“polska młoda gęś owsiana”) is a meaty race of goose which not only is great in taste but also healthy and rich in omega 3 non saturated acids. It is named “oat goose” because the birds eat oats before they are killed.

The November goose event (“gęsina na Św. Marcina”) is supported by the renowned Polish chefs, such as, for example,  Wojciech Modest Amaro (Atelier Amaro, Warszawa), Adam Chrząstowski (Ancora, Kraków), Karol Okrasa (Plater, Warszawa) and many, many others.  Between the 9^th and  the 25^th of November those chefs invite to their restaurants to taste their authors’ version of goose dishes. If you are in Poland between the 9^th and the 25^th of November, you can visit one of the restaurants participating in the “goose” event (the complete list – unfortunately in Polish only, is linked HERE). If, by accident, you visit one of the restaurants in Kraków, feel free to share your opinion at: magdalena@tastycolours.com.

The geese which are traditionally eaten for St. Martin Day are young birds, around 1 year old and 4-5 kg in weight. The most popular stuffing for the whole baked goose in my region is buckwheat and mushroom.

Today I am proposing to you a goose confit served with “barlotto” mushrooms. Barley (pęczak) is the largest cereal grain of the pearl barley family, easily available in Poland. It is a whole, uncrushed grain of barley, and it needs a longer cooking than regular pearl barley – you can see on the picture below, what it looks like.

I must say that this time I am 100 hundred per cent happy with my confit – since I decided to cook it slowly in, of course, a big amount of goose grease, but also in some wine. That prevents the meat from roasting – the problem which I was facing while preparing rillettes, for example. My dish was served with red sauerkraut braised with pumpkin, honey and lemon.

Goose Leg Confit and Pearl Barley – Mushrooms “Risotto”.

Serves 2

Goose Confit:

2 nice goose legs (around 500 g each)

700 – 800 g goose grease

1 bay leave

2 cloves

8-10 rosemary stalks

2 black pepper grains

600 ml dry white wine (400 ml for the marinade and then for cooking)

Salt

1. Marinade the goose legs: wash and wipe the legs. Pour around 350 ml of wine over them, add the bay leave, cloves, rosemary stalks and pepper. Put aside for around 4 hours, flipping occasionally.

2. After four hours take a large, wide, but not very deep saucepan and melt the goose grease (over medium heat). Add goose legs with spices and wine.

3. Confit your legs: cook over minimum heat until tender – in my case, it was around 3 hours. You have to make sure that the legs are always covered with the liquid. If the grease starts to sizzle despite the fact that the legs cook over low heat, just add some more wine. This prevents the meat from roasting in the grease and secure that the meat will remain soft and tender.  Check quite often if your goose legs do not start to roast in the grease. I was using dry white wine, as I did not want to kill the natural taste of goose and the colour of the goose grease with red wine. Note also that my goose legs were quite big (over 0.5 kg each) so you have to adjust the cooking time accordingly.

4. When the meat is soft and tender, remove it from the heat. You can either cool it down and keep the grease, jarred and use when you need it, or pan fry it over low heat, still warm, until the skin is nicely roasted. A lot of recipes call for roasting in the oven, but I believe that the meat remains juicier and the skin crispier, if roasted in a pan (of course, you will have to remove the excess of grease at that point). Salt before serving according to your taste.

Barley “Risotto” (“Pęczotto”)

Serves 2

150 g pearl barley

100 ml dry white wine

30 g dried ceps (appx 700 ml forest mushrooms liquid*)

1 tablespoon, fresh thyme leaves  

150 g pine mushrooms caps, cleaned and cut into quarters

2 tablespoons clarified butter

2 tablespoon goose grease

1 shallot, peeled and finely chopped

1. Prepare the mushroom broth: Place the mushrooms in a saucepan and add 750 ml of water. Let them soak for around 1 hour in warm water. Cook them in the soaking water, under the cover, for 20-30 minutes or until they are soft. Strain the liquid, put it aside, reserve the ceps and cut them into stripes. You will need them for “barley” risotto (“barlotto”).

2. Prepare the pine mushrooms: In a hot large frying pan, heat 1 tablespoon of butter, add pine mushrooms, and fry them for about 3-4 minutes, until nicely grilled (depending on the thickness of their caps) and until they release their juices and absorb them back (when frying over high heat, they should not release a lot of juice). Salt and pepper and leave aside.

3. Prepare “barlotto” (pearl barley "risotto"): heat the mushroom broth and let it simmer over low heat. In a deep pan, fry the shallot in goose grease, until slightly softened but not browned. Add the barley grains, and fry, stirring until it starts to turn translucent. Next, add the wine and cook, stirring until wine is absorbed. Add chopped ceps and thyme. Pour a ladle of hot mushroom stock and stir. Turn down the heat to a simmer so the pearl barley doesn’t cook too quickly. Keep adding ladles of stock, and stirring. However, you will not notice so much creamy starch as when preparing a risotto with rice. This will take around 30 minutes, until the barley is cooked. Season with salt and pepper, add the remaining spoon of butter, cover and let it rest for around 2 minutes. Serve with your goose confit.

Polish Style Braised Red Sauerkraut with Pumpkin

This recipe is inspired by one of the recipes of Polish young chef Karol Okrasa, who made this cabbage with regular, white sauerkraut

Serves 2

150 g red sauerkraut (you can replace it by the regular white sauerkraut which you will find in food stores with Polish food).  

100 g pumpkin (after removing its skin) – cut into thin, 2 cm slices

2 tablespoons good quality flower honey

Juice from ½ lemon

2 tablespoons goose grease

1. In a frying pan, heat the goose grease, add honey and pumpkin, and sauté it until slightly transparent. Add red sauerkraut, heat well and braise for a couple of minutes. Add lemon juice, season with some salt and pepper if necessary.

Bon appétit !!!