Sirloin of Jonnie

There's nothing much easier, more satisfying, and a real treat all at the same time, than a steak supper.

When you've got grass fed and 28 day dry aged meat to work with it's a whole lot better. When that meat comes from a source you know, this is a no brainer. Bravo Jonnie, this is the business.

Steak Supper

Serves 2

There’s a lot to be said for a great char-grilled steak – try your hand at making this deliciously meaty steak supper.

2 x 200g beef steaks, a boneless slice from the rump or top round or the sirloin as thick as your thumb

Olive oil
for the béarnaise sauce

1 small shallot
3 tblsp white wine, or tarragon vinegar
6 whole black peppercorns
3-4 stems tarragon, and their leaves
2 egg yolks
Dijon mustard
125g butter, soft, almost melted

Rub your steak all over with olive oil, not too much; just enough to give it a good gloss, then grind a little black pepper over both sides. I put salt on later. 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 full minutes. Do not move it.

Now turn it over (long metal tongs are useful here), press it down again (this is when I usually add the salt), and let it cook for a further two 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 fries or accompanied with béarnaise sauce.

For the sauce, peel and finely chop the shallot, and put it in a small saucepan with the vinegar, peppercorns, and the tarragon leaves and stems. Bring to a boil and watch it while it reduces to a tablespoon or so. Put the egg yolks and a little mustard into a glass bowl (not a steel one, they get too hot) and place it over a pan of very gently simmering water.

The bowl should sit snugly in the top of the pan. Whisk the reduced vinegar into the egg yolks, holding the debris back in the pan, then slowly add the butter, a soft cube at a time, whisking almost constantly until it is thick and velvety. You can turn the heat off halfway through; the sauce must not get too hot. It may need a little salt. It will keep warm, with the occasional whisk, while you pan-grill your steak and fry your frites—which, by the way, I tend to buy very thin and frozen, and cook in deep peanut oil.

square, scone, pudding, egg

Nothing much finer, well precious little anyway, than a bite of the homeland. Square sausage, tattie scone, black pudding and a fried egg piled into a well fired morning roll will struggle to be topped for me. 

All rather exotic having driven from the Kingdom of Fife, stocked up in Moffat in the borders, then cooked and devoured in Fulham. That said, at the end of the day, this is as simple and comforting as it gets.

Simple pleasures often evoke the strongest feelings. This is one of those very things I can wait for but can't work out why I've put it off for so long. The ingredients and how they come to be assembled are what helps keep something like this so precious.

Perfect tattie scones

Makes 24 triangles

500g floury potatoes, unpeeled

50g butter

125g plain flour, plus extra to dust

Put the potatoes in a pan, cover with water, salt generously and bring to the boil. Simmer until cooked through, then drain well and return to the hot pan for a minute to dry off. Peel off the skins as soon as you can handle them.

Add 40g butter and mash, and then stir in the flour and season to taste. Roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface to about 5mm thick, and then cut around a side plate to shape. Dust lightly with flour and prick all over with a fork.

Heat the remaining butter in a griddle or large heavy based frying pan over a medium-high heat and then fry until golden on both sides (about 3-5 minutes).

Cut into triangles and serve immediately, or cool in a tea towel for later.

the beetrot curry in Sri Lanka, sort of but not really at all

I can't do it nearly as authentic here as I have tasted there, so I'm not going to bother actually worrying about it. Beetroot in any way shape or form is a treat, so simply dressing it up a little makes for something really quite nice indeed

Roasted pumpkin and beetroot with goat’s cheese

Serves 4

200g pumpkin
100g beetroot
20g goats cheese
1 sprig fresh thyme
20ml olive oil
10ml red wine vinegar
10g rocket
Salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 180c, wash the beetroot and pat dry, rub with a touch of olive oil and put in the oven roast for 30 minutes or until tender. Remove from the oven allow to cool down slightly, then peel and cut into quarters and set aside

Cut the pumpkin in half; remove the seeds and slice into 5mm pieces. Season with salt and pepper and put onto a lightly oiled griddle until golden brown on both sides

Transfer the pumpkin to a baking tray and put into the oven to roast for 8 minutes or so until tender

Mix the red vinegar olive oil, and thyme in a bowl then put the beetroot in to marinate, seasoning with salt and pepper

Place the pumpkin in the centre of the plate then top with the beetroot, sprinkle with grated goats cheese and garnish with rocket; finally drizzle with the remaining vinegar dressing

potted crab or instant noodles?

When the sun shines, so does the desire to be close to the water, and by beautiful default closer and fresher to some of our most wonderful food supplies. This is a great prepare-ahead dish that you can simply take out of the fridge half an hour before serving. If preparing in advance, make sure the crab meat is completely covered with the butter mixture, and keep the pots well chilled for up to two days. Fancy it up with a bit of sliced avocado, green apple, some green leaves and a rip of bread and all is good in the world.

If this all sounds too perfect and the beach is either too far away or your needs to be beside the seaside isn't great enough then a 3.30am cup of instant noodles with extra shio konbu thrown is easily an acceptable substitution. Close your eyes and hold a seashell to your ear, everything will be just all right again.

Serves 4 on a sunny day  

2 dressed crab (or 300g white and brown crab meat)
1 banana shallot (or 2 regular ones), peeled and finely chopped
4 tblsp sherry
Pinch of cayenne pepper
Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
175g cold, unsalted butter, cut into cubes
1½ tsp Worcestershire sauce
Squeeze of lemon juice, according to taste
Handful of chives, finely chopped
 
Run your fingers through the crab meat to pick out any remaining bits of shell and cartilage. Wrap with cling film and chill.

Put the shallot, sherry, cayenne pepper and nutmeg in a small saucepan.

Season well. Bring to the boil and let it bubble vigorously for about 2 minutes until the liquid has reduced to half.

Turn the heat to low and gradually whisk in the butter, a few cubes at a time. Leave it to simmer very gently for a few minutes, then remove the pan from the heat and let the flavours infuse as the butter cools.

Pour the butter mixture into a fine sieve set over a measuring jug and press down to extract the juice from the shallots. Discard the solids.

Mix the crab meat with the Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste. Spoon the mixture into four individual pots of some description, each about 6cm wide. Place the pots on a tray and pour the butter mixture over the crab meat to cover. Cover them with a large piece of cling film and chill for about 2-3 hours until set.

Remove the potted crab from the fridge 30 minutes before serving with anything from the suggestions above in addition to buttered brown toasts, lemon wedges, chopped chives and a large glass of something very cold.

Those noodles on the other hand need nothing more than a generous imagination, 

Tomatoes in Paradise

So, to find yourself on a desert island, the most perfect desert island that is, and have to cook dinner - well it isn't such a hardship considering the colour of the sea, the purity of the sand and the simplicity of the sky all roll into a neat ball of beautiful loveliness. The only small challenge attached to such assignments tend to be the produce available. We can make fire pretty much instantly, but when there isn't a market or store, what you find is what you've got. This is on of the raw beauties we tend to overlook and take completely for granted given the lifestyles we find comfort in, so there is little more refreshing than to be presented with a limited larder and a hungry belly, and know that this will work out better than if we were spoiled with a limitless supply of ingredients to spoil and waste.


I have a thing for tomatoes anyway, and although your classic castaway island should be teeming with exotic fruit, I went for the tom as centre stage of the dessert. A fruit it is, and as a fruit it shall be treated, in an 'odd but it makes sense' kind of way. We'll call this number 'Tomato 21" as there were 21 ingredients filling it before the slow baking process took place. Of course you needn't go to this number, but a nice balance of nuts, fruits, spices and sweeteners to blend together inside the tomato without drying out is the goal.


Apart from the tomato itself, which I cut the top off and carefully removed the insides without splitting the skin before filling and replacing his hat, here are the 21 fillers, in no particular order of importance.

Pistachio, almonds, walnuts, peanuts, pine nuts, dried plums, dried apricots, sultanas, dried figs, prunes, cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg, star anise, mixed spice, orange juice, pineapple juice, brown sugar, honey, butter and fresh pineapple. All diced or crushed quite small where appropriate and blended together to fill the fruit.


If there is surplus liquid left over, this is perfect for the basting, if not blend together a bit more of the juices and the honey for this, then pop all into a baking tray and into an oven at 60 c for 8 hours, basting every 30 minutes or so.


Serve hot, with a spoonful of the basting juice and if you have an ice cream machine on your desert island, a scoop of vanilla on the side would be an acceptable luxury.