and red wine, then subsequently removed from
its marinade, dried and browned before being reunited and
slowly braised and then, in all probability, separated again
from this entourage and embellished with fresh
ingredients – lardons, onions, mushrooms, olives and the
like – before being served. C’est magnifique mais ce n’est
pas la daube. This elaborate production is much more akin
to a boeuf bourguignon than a daube. The real thing is
simple and yet far superior and even Mrs Ramsay might
have been up to the work had she been able to locate her
pinafore. Whether Mrs Woolf could have managed is
perhaps more open to question.
67
February
68
DAUBE DE BOEUF
I used beef cheek to great advantage. Shin would also work
well, as would any stewing cut rich in collagen. This is best
cooked overnight.
Serves six to eight.
150g (5½oz) unsmoked
streaky bacon or pancetta,
in a piece
50ml (13⁄4fl oz) olive oil
1 large carrot, peeled and
thinly sliced
1 large onion, peeled and
thinly sliced
1 strip of orange peel
a few sprigs of thyme
2 bay leaves
1.5kg (3lb 5oz) beef cheek,
trimmed and cut into large
chunks (80–100g/3–3½oz)
4 garlic cloves, halved
750ml (11⁄4 pints) robust red
wine, such as Côtes du
Rhône or similar
100g (3½oz) plain flour,
plus extra for dusting
a handful of black olives
salt and black pepper
Preheat the oven to 90°C (194°F, lowest Gas Mark).
Remove the rind from the bacon and cut it into small
squares. Cut the bacon itself into lardons 2cm (3⁄4in) long.
Line the base of a heavy casserole dish with the olive oil,
then scatter the lardons on top. Arrange the carrot, onion,
orange peel and herbs on top of the lardons.
Lay the meat chunks, nestling them together, on top
of the vegetables and intersperse the garlic in any gaps
between the meat. Season the meat well with salt and
freshly ground black pepper, then distribute the pieces
of bacon rind over the top.
Bring the red wine to the boil in a saucepan, then pour
over the meat in the casserole dish. Add 3 tablespoons of
water to the flour in a bowl and work very well to form a
strong dough. Roll this out, sausage fashion, on a lightly
floured work surface to form a long coil that can be
positioned around the rim of the casserole dish before
pushing the lid down very firmly to form a really tight seal.
Place the daube in the oven and cook for 12 hours.
Break the seal by chipping away with a knife. Inside,
the daube should be dark and deeply aromatic, the meat
very yielding, and the sauce clear and rich in flavour.
Sprinkle the olives on top and replace the lid. Serve with
rice, large pasta shapes, such as penne or rigatoni, or with
boiled or mashed potatoes.
69
February
No Fool Like an Old Fool
Rhubarb Fool
Rhubarb comes ever earlier. The earliest rhubarb I have
seen – the finest, slenderest, most elegant forced Yorkshire
rhubarb – was at the River Café a week before Christmas.
There is nothing we chefs hate more than a rival gaining
an ingredient ahead of them in the season. Since we share
the same greengrocer, I berated him for not telling me
about the rhubarb. He cleverly argued that since I was
such a stickler for seasonality, he didn’t think I would have
thought it right to be serving rhubarb before Christmas.
The River Café were right, of course. Forced rhubarb,
far from being a product of the seasons, exists in defiance
of them. Like radicchio tardivo and sea kale, it is produced
by deceiving nature and encouraging the plants to grow
just when nothing is supposed to grow, at least not in our
latitudes. There is certainly nothing very ‘natural’ about
Yorkshire rhubarb, nor anything particularly attractive
about the triangle, a tiny pocket of land roughly
