the club burger at the lotus cafe

In the sleepy village of Lin Tong Mei Tsuen, there's a buzzing place called the Lotus Cafe. It's properly packed, delicious and outstanding, and there's no more point wasting time in coming up with more superlatives to add to that statement. I had a club burger, everyone else had a bit of everything from BLT pittas through fatty pork belly over rice to deep fried French toast with peanut butter and syrup. After a decent hike in the clouds above Yuen Long, believe me, it was properly outstanding.

In other news, a decent way with a pork burger to do at home if you fancy it.

Pork burgers

Serves 4

200 g minced pork

1 tblsp grain mustard

1 tblsp clear honey

1 tblsp sage, chopped

1 tblsp flat leaf parsley, chopped

1 egg yolk

2 tblsp breadcrumbs

Grated zest of a lemon

2 shallots, finely chopped

Olive oil

To serve

Bun or bread - anything works

Sliced red onions

Gherkins

Shaved Parmesan

Olive oil

Rocket leaves

Watercress sprigs

In a mixing bowl, mix together the pork, mustard, honey, sage, parsley, yolk, breadcrumbs, lemon zest and shallots.

Shape the pork mixture into 4 even-sized burgers.

Heat the olive oil in a frying pan. Add in the burgers and fry until golden brown on both sides and cooked through.

Serve the fried burgers between freshly griddled bread or toasted buns. Top the burgers with red onion, gherkins, Parmesan, a drizzle of olive oil, rocket and watercress.

Sauces and relishes at this stage are totally over to you. I'd throw on a fried egg and a bit of bacon myself, but that's just me.

carpaccio and happiness, at home, where it should be

This is at its very best served really informally at home with the right person, with homemade mayonnaise - which is a traditional carpaccio accompaniment, and properly delicious with chips too. 

The quality of your meat is everything. It needs to come from an animal that has been fed correctly and well hung to ensure it is tender. I prefer the flavour and texture of a pure Angus breed, but there are plenty other good breeds too.

It is pretty much all about the setting and the company. If the food is a bit more than half decent, the full package has pretty much been achieved. That's where something like this comes in. Buy a great piece of meat, do precious little to it, savour the occasion - perfection achieved.

Beef carpaccio/Parmesan/rocket/radishes

Serves just the 2, 4 at a push

500g trimmed fillet of beef
freshly ground black pepper and good quality salt
40g fresh rocket

80g shaved Parmesan

60g fresh very cold red radishes, shaved

40ml extra virgin olive oil

20ml lemon juice

Season the beef well with the pepper and roll up firmly in a large piece of cling film or foil. Roll the film back and forth to make the meat even and nicely rounded. Chill for 30 minutes.

With a very sharp knife, slice the meat as thinly as possible and arrange on a serving platter. Garnish with the rocket, drizzle with the oil and a splash of lemon juice and finally the radishes and Parmesan, and a sprinkle of salt.

Homemade mayonnaise

I more often than not add water or sometimes crème fraîche to my mayonnaise, both to whiten it and to make it lighter on the palate, so that it doesn't overpower the beef.

2 free range egg yolks
1 tsp white wine vinegar
1 tsp English or Dijon mustard
150ml groundnut oil
150ml olive oil
2 tblsp cold water

Place the egg yolks, vinegar and mustard in a bowl and whisk together with a balloon whisk. Gradually incorporate the oil, whisking continuously until you have a thick emulsion. Add the water and season. Transfer to a clean jar. The mayonnaise will keep for five days in the fridge.

top rumps

The perfect steak

 

The small matter of cooking the perfect steak

 

This is something that sits conveniently alongside being able to dig a good hole in the ground, fixing a proper martini and making a decent fire

 

We’ve kind of got 5 categories to look after here; The meat, the preparation, cooking with fire, allowing some rest time and serving it up.

 

Easier said than done, but as basics go, finding you a great bit of meat is the only way to begin this journey. Whichever cut you have a fancy for, and I’m a top rump kind of person make sure you look for a really nice marbling of fat throughout the meat.

 

The fat really is all important to enjoying a good steak. The flavour, basting and juice all comes from the fat. Something that’s ideally been hung for at least a couple of weeks is a bonus too, and if this steak thing is a once every now and again treat, then the time taken here is well worth it. Dark red meat and yellowing fat is the guide here and anything close to that will help with the end results no end.

 

I was always taught not to season too early, and more and more recently I hear of the desire to season after cooking is the way to go. I like to season it, and season it well and early. Massage your meat with good olive oil and then season with plenty of flaky salt and very coarsely ground black pepper.

 

Get a good heavy frying pan really hot and sear any fatty edge first until a bit of a crust has formed. Now that the pan is hot, but not so hot the red meat will burn rather than sear, get the steak into the hot oil and give it a good seeing to. Anything a couple of centimetres thick can be left for two to three minutes before needing a turn, and only turn at this point. Fiddling about at this stage will only drop the pan temperature and lead to excessive juices making their way out and a boiled steak which isn’t cool.

 

Another three minutes or so on the B side and good overall golden brown caramelisation and the pan work is complete.

 

The most important thing, and almost always overlooked, is the resting period. When the steak looks ready, smells ready and you think its ready; you’re almost always ten minutes ahead of yourself.

 

Leave your meat in a warm place for that nail biting 10 minute stretch and allow all that insane heat which has tightened up all the fibres in the steak settle down and relax. This time spent also allows the juices to start eeking out, the meat to continue cooking ever so gently and the evenness of cooking ripple all the way through the meat. If fancy is needed, dress it up a little. If not, the least you deserve are a few chips.

 

Top rumps

 

Serves 2

 

2 x 200g top rump steaks

Olive oil

 

for the house made mustard

Makes about 230g

 

90g mustard seeds

110g mustard powder

45ml vinegar (cider, white wine or sherry)

100ml white wine

2 tsp salt

 

Grind the whole mustard seeds for a few seconds in a spice or coffee grinder, or by hand with a mortar and pestle. You want them mostly whole because you are using mustard powder, too.

 

Pour the semi-ground seeds into a bowl and add the salt and mustard powder. If using, add one of the optional ingredients, too. Pour in the vinegar and wine, then stir well. When everything is incorporated, pour into a glass jar and store in the fridge. Wait at least 12 hours before using. Mustard made this way will last several months in the fridge.

 

Rub your steak all over with olive oil, not too much; just enough to give it a good gloss, then the salt and grind a little black pepper over both sides. Get the grill pan hot, then slap on the steak and press it down onto the ridges with a metal spatula. Let it cook for two to three full minutes. Do not move it.

 

Now turn it over (long metal tongs are useful here), press it down again, and let it cook for a further two to three minutes. The best way to tell if your steak is done is to press it with your finger.

 

Timing is a hopelessly inaccurate measure because so much depends on how your meat has been hung and butchered. The best—by which I mean the juiciest—results will come from a steak where your finger has left a slight indentation. Until you get to know the “feel” of your steaks you may have to make a small cut into them, but you will lose juice this way. If you want a well-done steak, with no blood in it, then I can’t help you. Well, I could but I won’t.

 

Incidentally, I sometimes pour a little wine onto the grill pan after removing the steak and let it bubble, then pour the meagre, intensely beefy juices over my steak. Serve with chips, creamed spinach, onion rings and the mustard

more prawns, in a warming sukiyaki kind of a way

Sukiyaki, traditionally being a Japanese winter time soup like stew served hot pot style, gets a Hong Kong Typhoon Sunday makeover with the fast approaching Severe Typhoon Usagi well on her way. Again, mucking around with a bit of tradition, we'd normally expect to see thinly sliced beef slowly cooked or simmered at the table, with the vegetables in a rich mixture of soy sauce, sugar, and mirin. But prawns are all the rage this week, and adaptation is just the thing right now.

The thing is, noodles do on the odd occasion play a part in a sukiyaki, much to my relief, but the tendency to dunk the ingredients in raw beaten egg is there for the traditionalists, your call on that one really.

Prawn sukiyaki

Serves 4

1 litre fresh chicken stock
2 tblsp hoisin sauce
2 tblsp oyster sauce
1 tblsp fish sauce
1 x 10g sachet instant miso soup
2" ginger, peeled and finely sliced
200g rice noodles
100g enoki mushrooms
1 green chilli de-seeded and finely chopped
300g peeled, raw king prawns
200g asparagus, trimmed and cut into 2" pieces
100g mange tout or snap peas, shredded
200g beansprouts

For the garnish
1 tsp sesame oil
4 spring onions, shredded
Small bunch coriander
1 lime, cut into 4 wedges

Bring the chicken stock to a simmer in a large pan along with the hoisin, oyster, fish sauce, miso and ginger. Simmer uncovered for 5 minutes.

Cook the noodles according to the packet instructions.

Add the mushrooms and chilli to the broth and continue to simmer for 3 minutes, add the prawns, asparagus and mange tout and simmer for a further 3 minutes. Finally heat through the beansprouts for 1 minute before serving.

Divide the noodles between four large deep bowls and spoon over the soup (making sure that everybody gets an equal amount prawns and vegetables).

Divide the sesame oil between the bowls, scatter over the spring onions and coriander leaves and serve with a wedge of lime.

gyoza last thing on a Brisbane Sunday night

There’s always a right time to leave the last dumpling on a plate. Any dumpling. No matter how good it is. Some examples of when, quite exactly, one might consider the notion that one has hung around a litle too long could include, but not confined to:

 

1) Your host has to ask you to pay your bill and leave now

2) You’re actually properly tired

3) Eat another gyoza and you'll take someone down with you on the way out

4) You’re properly drunk on great Japanese beer and well on your way to memorably embarrassing yourself and anybody associated with you

5) You’re heading up the last straggle of diners and staying longer would make you seem tragic or desperate

6) Someone slightly more tragic looking than you has just arrived and no possible good can come from you being in the same restaurant with them

7) There’s better gyoza at a new place just opened up down the street

8) Someone really smart kicks the karaoke system into life

9) There is more than one left on the plate

 

hiking in the shadows of awesomeness

If you know Hong Kong, you'll highly likely to know of the MacLehose Trail in the New Terretories. If you know the MacLehose, you're for sure going to know that stages 4 and 5 on a hot day can break you like a cheap toothpick if you're not ready and prepared.

Starting at Kei Ling Ha to Tai Lo Shan and ending up on Tai Po Road after give or take 23k of some tough climbs and unforgiving descents, days out like these are what makes living in the metropolis that HK is something to utterly respect and appreciate. 

In the same way, whether you know of a fairly straightforward looking Cha Chaan Teng at the top of Nathan Road that's pretty famous for their egg tarts, but also do killer fried noodles and Ho Fun after a six and a half hour trek through the toughest hills is there for you to discover if not. Well done you if you know where I'm talking about, quite brilliant isn't it?

No pain, no gain is what they say, but I guess I'm one of the lucky ones where the hike is what it's all about on the weekend. A fast and hostile plate of noodles with an iced lemon tea served with all the grace and style you need not to distract from what is actually a really very good offering. The challenge, the escape, the wonderment of how you can be at the foot of an incredible little mountain already stretched up and ready to attack just 45 minutes after getting on the train at the bottom of another impressive climb, The Bank of China building in Central.

The opposite end of the day, we jumped in a taxi at the end of Stage 5 on the Tai Po Road with a couple of grazing monkeys giving us the look of 'you're doing all this climbing stuff wrong getting all sweaty and the like' and literally 10 minutes later back in the hustle of Kowloon and settling into that noodle reward.

Simply because a great bowl of noodles can be had here for a small fistful of dollars, what's the point of cooking at home I hear myself ask. Let's just say that there's always a time and a place.

Fried Nathan Road noodles

Serves 2

About 100g dried egg noodles

100g bean shoots

Half a handful of chopped chives

A splash of oil, pinch of salt

1 tsp toasted sesame seeds

For the sauce

1 tsp each light soy, dark soy, oyster sauces

Pinch of salt, same of sugar and 1/2 tsp sesame oil

Cook and loosen the dried noodles in a pot of boiling water until just cooked and when done, immediately drain noodles in a colander and run them under cold water. Drain and dry off any excess water

Wash the bean sprouts and mix together the ingredients for the sauce, set aside.

Heat half tablespoon of oil in wok over a medium heat, toss in the bean sprouts. Quickly turn and stir, and add the noodles and the chives. Season with the salt  and then remove to a small bowl.

Add one more tablespoon of oil to the wok and turn the heat up high, toss in noodles. Stir them constantly to minimize their lumping together or sticking. Swirl in sauce, and stir well with noodles. Then, return bean sprouts and chives, turn over a few more times and remove. Serve up, sprinkle sesame seeds on top and any other chilli sauce you might want to add for an extra oomph.

a couple of ways with beef

When in the mood for Meat

Only Meat will do

So, a slab of sirloin, deep, dense, ruby red and well aged, and just a little bit too much to cook off as a steak alone did indeed lend itself to a couple of courses last night, and a generous trimming resulting in thin shavings of the meat was the way to get things started. There's something utterly luxurious about raw food - oysters, sushi and caviar being exemplary versions, and a carpaccio of sorts with terrific quality beef falls easily into this category.


Carpaccio in the traditional manner is a fine thing, although more often than not the true flavour of the meat lost a little in sauces that seem to have gone too far down the mayonnaise route. Much more preferable for me is very very good quality salt, pepper and olive oil - nothing more needed to pronounce the true taste of the beef. Adding a fist of rocket leaves, thinly sliced radishes, some raw asparagus and some Parmesan shavings and true completion has been achieved, but as ever there are no fixed set rules here.


Steak in particular is the one and only food item I think about when I'm in need for a proper treat. The first meal I'd go for if I hadn't really eaten for a few days. It needs precious little more than salt and pepper, particularly in this instance - natural in every sense. This little nugget might cause a bit of debate, but honestly a great steak doesn't always need a starch sitting along side, in fact I'd go so far as to say it pretty much doesn't deserve the unnecessary distraction.


If you can fill your house with the luxurious smell of beef charring on a hot grill then going out for an expensive steak dinner very quickly loses its' charm. One joint, two courses, thank you very much.

sausages and mushrooms

or the full on fry up

Serves 4 very happy people

Everybody seriously must love a properly cooked breakfast. No one in the world cooks breakfast like we do - mushrooms, tomatoes, proper local sausages, fat bacon, black pudding, fried bread and potato, with lots of tea and toast. 

I've recently fallen back in love with something cooked in the morning, and as unhealthy as the whole notion of fried food first thing, it's no different to enjoying a pint or two on the weekend - everything in moderation. Timing is critical here as we greedily have a lot of components to bring together, so put the oven on a low setting to keep the plates and cooked items hot until ready to dish up.
 
3 tblsp vegetable oil, plus 2 tblsp to fry eggs
4 handmade pork or beef sausages
8 rashers of smoked back bacon
4 slices of black or white pudding
75g cooked potato (ideally leftover new potatoes)
2 slices of white bread, plus bread for toast
4 large vine tomatoes
4 large flat or field mushrooms
4 free range eggs
Butter for bread
Home made preserves or marmite
 
Preheat the oven to 125°C/gas mark 1. Place your plates in the oven.

Place a large, heavy frying pan on the stove and heat with 3 tblsp of the oil, until warm. Add the sausages, black pudding and bacon, and cook slowly for 6-8 minutes to release the fat but not brown the meat. Turn up the heat and continue to cook until the bacon begins to crisp and the sausages are brown. Transfer to the warmed plates.

There should be a surplus of fat in the pan, now heat the pan until the fat is letting off a sheen or haze, and add the bread and potato. Cook the bread quickly on one side until golden brown, and then remove and place on a piece of kitchen paper before transferring to the oven. Turn the potato over and cook for 2-3 minutes, then transfer that to the oven as well.

Lower the heat and add the tomatoes, cut-side down, and the mushrooms, stalk up. Season with pepper, then cover. Cook for 5 minutes and keep warm in the pan until required. 

Take a small omelette or frying pan and heat 2 tblsp of oil until hot but not smoking. Break the eggs into a breakfast cup and carefully tip into the pan. The egg, if fresh, should “sit up” and not spread all over the pan. Cook until the white of the egg is completely set and firm, and transfer immediately to a warmed plate. Add all the other components and serve immediately.

duck/tarragon/beetroot

The vibrant tarragon and earthy beetroot in this dish are fabulous with rich duck breast, and the colours are beautiful too. To counteract the softness, serve it with oven-warmed root vegetable crisps or fresh red chicory leaves for their bitter edginess. served on a plate is a bit 2011, but do what you need to do here.

Breast of duck with tarragon and beetroot

Serves 4

The vibrant tarragon and earthy beetroot sauces in this dish are fabulous with rich duck breast, and the colours are beautiful too. To counteract the softness, serve it with oven-warmed root vegetable crisps.

4 duck breasts 

2 small bunches fresh tarragon (about 40g)

2 tbsp butter 

2 medium shallots, finely chopped

250ml chicken stock

140ml single cream

3 large beetroot, roasted until soft, or 2 vacuum packs of ready cooked beetroot

With a sharp knife (a Stanley knife works brilliantly), score the duck skin in a criss-cross pattern. Strip the tarragon leaves from their stalks.

Melt the butter in a small pan and cook the shallots with the tarragon stalks, until the shallots are soft but not coloured. Add 5floz/140ml of the chicken stock and reduce by half. Stir in the cream, bring back to the boil and then remove from the heat. Bring a small pan of water to the boil and plunge in the tarragon leaves. After 20 seconds, drain well and transfer to a blender.

Add the cream mixture and blend until smooth, then pass through a fine sieve. Taste and season with salt and a little pepper. Peel the beetroots if necessary and chop them roughly. Whizz in a blender with the remaining chicken stock to make a smooth purée-cum-sauce. (A food processor won't get it completely smooth. If you don't have a blender or liquidiser, serve the duck with cubes of beetroot heated in a little butter.) Preheat the oven to 200C/400F/ gas mark 6.

Season the duck breasts and place them skin-side down in a medium-hot pan.

Cook until the skin starts to colour, then transfer to the oven, still on the skin side.

Roast for 5-8 minutes, depending on how well done you like it. Allow the duck to rest in a warm spot for 5-10 minutes, while you reheat the beetroot purée and tarragon sauce. Slice the duck and serve with the purée and sauce.

mushrooming about the time of year

There isn't much you can do wrong with a mushroom. Some love them (me) some can't get past their apparent sliminess (weirdos) some just go with the flow. As their true wild season comes to a close, one last blast today is in order. Mushrooms on toast for breakfast and a slow braised beef casserole with fat handfuls of every variety I'm able to get my hands on is a fitting Sunday any which way you look at it.


Sunday breakfast has to be where the weekend makes any sense, and filling the house with the smell of sauteed mushrooms, toasted bread and fresh coffee cannot fail to get the day rolling just nicely as in Plan A. Lightly toasted focaccia just because it soaks everything up like the most delicious edible sponge. A pile of evenly sized of the harder mushrooms like pied bleu, hedgehogs and even buttons and chestnuts. Butter, a tiny splash of cream at the end. A fat pinch of really good salt and plenty chopped parsley and black pepper.

Beef will go on shortly and cook throught the day. I'm looking at a fist full of ceps to go with diced shin and a load of garlic, shallots and thyme. A decent bit of red wine in nice and early, maybe spiked with a hit of chilli, and probably farted about with a bit more still. More on all that as soon as I've snoozed off breakfast and pretended to read the Sunday papers.

If anyone wants to cook my father's day lunch...

It's tomorrow by the way kids, so the shopping window of opportunity is pretty much NOW, and I can't hint strongly enough but shall just continue here to jot a few words down.

Since scaring myself down to a maximum of two fish moments a week at the moment, and trying my level best to hold back on red meat while increasing the vegetable intake. The gaps left seem to be utterly filled with depleting my Chinese instant noodle stockpile, so life isn't all that grim. The reserved approach to meat does ensure that on special occasions (please do refer to tomorrow as SPECIAL) then a mahoosive fat and juicy steak is completely justifiable, and so the hints keep on coming.


The mass of expertise around steaks; rearing, choosing, storing, cooking and serving is insane, and everyone and their mother is an expert on this topic of course. But there are some cool people out there who know what they're talking about while not making a meal out of it. Foodurchin's great guide to getting the beast just right is hilarious. While the wonderful people of Edinburgh are experimenting with their 22 hour beef at home show us just what is possible.

It doesn't need to be all bells and whistles you know, I'm just asking for something that I can sleep off tomorrow afternoon in front of the telly. But if I had to choose for myself i think I'd go with the larger joint approach which has tended to satisfy my weekly beefy like urges of late. 


As far as what to go with it are concerned, I'm a classic steak cliche all bundled up in a chef's jacket here. Chips - large, but not fries. Watercress leaves, but not rocket, dressed lightly with a mustardy vinaigrette. Horseradish of course, but if possible freshly grated into a little creme fraiche with an extra squeeze of lemon. I'll be happy for sure.

A drink to go with that Sir did you say? Well it is a wee bit predictable but I think something rich, red and rounded might help the food slip effortlessly down, I have just the bottle of the most perfect Napa Cabernet Sauvignon brought back from the US recently that has tomorrow written all over it. The topic of American wines I have a strong opinion of which will come another day. But as I'm awaiting the arrival of the feast, I think I can indulge in a little imperfect perfection. It is my day after all.

Smothered spinach and black bean burritos

As Superbowl XLV appears over the horizon (11 days and a counting) the thoughts of game day snacks seem to be at the forefront of my event planning from here on in. There needn't be any pressure to out perform yourself on a day like this - taking the easy route is forgiven for most of what you serve, although I'm personally making sure I'm putting all I have into my chilli while allowing dishes as below slip as quietly as possible into the repertoire.

This will serve 4, but that's just a silly quantity to consider really.

250g creamed spinach with 1 cup sweetcorn kernels
Cooking-oil spray
1 can (15 oz.) black beans
1 tsp chilli powder
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp cumin
4 large (burrito-size) flour tortillas
1 jar (16 oz.) salsa (hotter the better)
1/4 cup shredded cheddar cheese

Fold the sweetcorn into the spinach, stir in the black beans, chilli powder, garlic powder and cumin.

Meanwhile, spray a 13-by-9-inch glass or ceramic baking dish with cooking oil spray. Set the dish aside. Rinse the black beans, and set them aside to drain.

Assemble the burritos: Place 1 flour tortilla in the prepared baking dish. Spoon half of the spinach mixture into the middle of the tortilla, and wrap, tucking both ends under burrito-style. Place the folded burrito seam-side down at one end of the baking dish. Repeat with the remaining tortillas.

Pour the salsa over the burritos, and spread the salsa to coat them evenly. Cover the dish with microwave-safe plastic wrap, and fold a corner back to make a vent. Place the dish in the microwave, and cook, on high, until heated through, about 4 to 6 minutes, stopping to rotate the dish after 2 minutes.

Sprinkle 1 tablespoon cheese evenly on top of each burrito to garnish. Serve at once. Chilled beer. TV. Football.

Easy start to Sunday

There's nothing quite like an easy start to Sunday, whether it's to recover from the previous evening's frivolities or to prepare for the family to descend for lunch.  Breakfast is traditionally the most important meal of the day, but the luxury of a lazy breakfast at the weekends, means it often turns into brunch.  

So, if you can't decide whether it's a late breakfast or an early lunch your taste buds are craving opt for something that will cover both.  

Eggs, a staple breakfast component for centuries, have had their fair share of bad publicity, but I've yet to truly believe that they can be anything but goodness.  They bring life to food, get you started for the day, and feed both the brain and the soul.  As long as you have half a dozen eggs in your store cupboard and a decent frying pan you'll always have brunch, and any added extras are just a bonus.

Scrambled eggs, smoked salmon and bagels

Serves 2-3

6 large free range eggs
25g ice cold butter, cut into small dice
1 tblsp crème fraîche
freshly ground sea salt and pepper
Few chives, snipped
2-3 bagels of your choice, toasted

400g smoked salmon slices

Break the eggs into a cold, heavy-based pan, place on the lowest heat possible, and add half the butter. Using a spatula, stir the eggs frequently to combine the yolks with the whites.

As the mixture begins to set, add the remaining butter. The eggs will take about 4-5 minutes to scramble – they should still be soft and quite lumpy. Don’t let them get too hot – keep moving the pan off and back on the heat.

Meanwhile, toast the bagels.

Add the crème fraîche and season the eggs at the last minute, then add the snipped chives. Put the split bagels on warm plates, pile the softly scrambled eggs on top, fold over the smoked salmon and serve immediately.

Baked pheasant with figs and marsala sauce

Serves 4

Just in the same way that the mushrooms are out in force, the feathered game season has hit us hard and fast, with early offerings of pheasant. Some are saying it's a better grouse season than first expected, which bodes well for the next couple of months. I'm as strong an advocate for this whole seasonal eating malarky as I am a wearer of colourful socks, so its a bit of a passion of mine I guess. As much as I'm loving my current city posting in the States, I do miss getting out there with nature and finding my own dinner, little beats it. Even the youngest of pheasant can have quite a powerful aroma and gamey flavour, and is best paired with a strongly flavoured sauce. Caramelised figs cut through the richness in this dish, but you could also do the same with peeled and quartered apples and pears.

75g butter
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 oven-ready pheasants
250ml dry white wine
2 garlic cloves, chopped
500ml good quality chicken stock
6 ripe firm purple figs, halved
2 shallots, chopped
1 tsp plain flour
250ml marsala
2 tblsp of flat leaf parsley, freshly chopped
Handful of toasted walnuts, roughly chopped

Preheat the oven to 180C/Gas 4. Melt two thirds of the butter in a cast-iron casserole dish or roasting pan. Season the pheasants, then sauté in the butter on all sides until lightly golden. Add the wine, garlic and chicken stock and roast in the oven, cooking the birds for 20 minutes on each side. Remove the birds and keep warm. Strain the cooking liquor, then boil until it has reduced by half.

Meanwhile, melt the remaining butter in a frying pan and cook the figs, cut-side down, for 2-3 minutes without turning, until lightly caramelised. Remove the figs, reserving the butter, and set aside.

Add the shallots to the pan and sauté for 8-10 minutes until soft and golden. Sprinkle over the flour, then gradually stir in the marsala. Bring to the boil and reduce by two thirds.

Stir in the remaining cooking liquor and any juices from the pheasants. Cook for about 5 minutes until you have a smooth sauce. Add the figs to the sauce, then simmer gently for 3 minutes. Check for seasoning and stir in the parsley. Carve the pheasant, pour the sauce over and sprinkle with the walnuts. Serve with fried polenta or mashed potato.


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