tablespoons finely chopped
root ginger
3 tablespoons finely chopped
shallots
50ml (13⁄4fl oz) lemon juice
150ml (5fl oz) Japanese soy
sauce
200ml (7fl oz) sunflower oil
finely chopped chives, for
sprinkling
I use this dressing throughout the year: it has always been
very popular.
Chop the garlic, ginger and shallots very finely with a
knife, not in a food processor. Mix with the liquids but
don’t try to emulsify them. Lay slices of fish on very cold
plates and spoon the dressing around. Sprinkle finely
chopped chives on the dressing and serve with
pumpernickel or rye bread.
WINE: Citrus and oily tuna marry very well, but pose
a problem for wine. The best choice might be a Spatlese
Riesling whose residual sugar will offset the
sour citrus. The ginger version is less problematic and a
fresh Riesling or Sauvignon Blanc will both work well.
86
A Quilt of Ham and Cream
Baked Endives with Ham and Cheese
There are a lot of different chicories now available to us,
but by far the most common and easiest to find is perhaps
the finest of all. Were the Belgian, or witloof (trans: ‘white
leaf’) endive not so common, it would doubtless be more
highly esteemed.
Should you buy the ‘plain’ white endive, and not the
slightly more expensive and pretty but rather pointless red
endive, I think you are getting a bargain. Bearing in mind
that every head of endive represents one complete root
that has grown for a hundred and twenty days, its foliage
cut back, then replanted and the fresh growth cultivated
in the dark, it all sounds a laborious process for the fairly
trifling sums that it costs in the shops. Furthermore, there
seems to be a universal quality standard: they are almost
always beautifully grown, forming compact and creamy
white heads composed of delicate tender leaves. They
rarely have an overdeveloped stalk or excessive colour on
the leaf tips, the two faults that they must be prone to.
I am equally partial to eating my witloof raw or cooked.
The leaves are best just separated from the stalk but left
whole and dressed with lemon juice and walnut oil, but are
equally enjoyable with a strong vinaigrette or served plain
with a good blue cheese. Served raw, their bitterness is
of a mild variety – it is to subdue their bitterness, one
assumes, that they were blanched in the first place – and
acceptable to all but the most untutored palate. When
cooked, however, witloof becomes a rather more grown-up
proposition. Lemon juice and a little sugar will soften the
impact but the fact is that cooking accentuates the innate
bitterness of this lovely plant. That is rather the point.
To some, especially the uninitiated, the bitterness of all
chicory is intrinsically inimical. They will put up with a
certain amount if it is understated and counterbalanced by
a nice dressing because most chicory has a pleasantly
crunchy texture. To aficionados, however, the bitterness is
positively addictive. If our mouths pucker slightly on first
bite, we immediately want to repeat the experience, just as
true curry fiends love serious heat from their chilli. As with
curry enthusiasts’ assorted cooling accompaniments of
rice and chutney, the bitterness of the endive needs to be
wrapped in a protective cloak, none better than this quilt
of ham and cream.
87
March
BAKED ENDIVES WITH HAM AND CHEESE
Smoked ham seems an especially good match for the
endives but other hams will do very well, including Parma
and other raw hams. Similarly, Parmesan works well too.
Serves four.
8 witloof endives (chicory)
80g (23⁄4oz) unsalted butter,
plus extra for greasing
juice of 2 lemons
½ large glass of dry white
wine (say 100ml/3½fl oz)
2 teaspoons golden caster
sugar
2 tablespoons plain flour
250ml (9fl oz) milk
a sprig of thyme
2 bay leaves
