Friday, 5 August 2011

Water kefir

For most of my childhood, my parents carefully followed conventional health advice. That meant whole grains and low fat - though since most of what fat there was, was vegetable margarine, that may have been a blessing of sorts. However, on the plus side, it also meant sweets and soda pop were strictly rationed. Pop was very much a treat, a few times a year, and evokes happy memories of hot summer holiday afternoons.

Of course, these days I drink regular pop practically never. Apart from the myriad health concerns, it just tastes absurdly and unpalatably sweet. But, especially in the summer, I drink water kefir, aka tibicos, on a daily basis. For those who haven't tried it, it's a kind of fizzy homebrew probiotic pop, made basically from a sugar solution fermented with water kefir grains - little slippery, translucent, self-propogating crystals. The process is actually very simple, once you get the hang of it. About ten minutes every few days keeps us supplied. It's also a great source of probiotics, being fermented by a colony of bacteria and yeasts.

What I mostly make is ginger beer. I use a mason jar that holds about 3 litres, and e-z cap beer bottles. It's a 2-stage process. First I whizz up a largish chunk of raw ginger in the blender with water. Then I strain it into the big jar with a sieve (the leftover ginger mush I use up for cooking). Along with this goes about an ounce or so of sugar. Any old sugar will do, though I tend to use jaggery or light muscovado if I've got it; the flavour is stronger and you get a few extra minerals. Half a lemon, or lime, or an orange, unsqueezed. And the grains (you can get these easily online). Top up to the brim, and leave for about 24 hours.

Pretty quickly the fermentation becomes apparent. There's a constant bubbling and sometimes the grains will float up and down in the jar, which is quite entertaining to watch if there's nothing on TV.

Then comes the bottling. The easiest way I've arrived at to do this is to fish out the lemon, squeeze it into a large jug, and then pour the rest of the brew into the jug through a sieve (to retrieve the grains). Then pour into the bottles, seal and leave out for another 24-48 hours. After that they should be stored in the fridge or somewhere cold, or they'll carry on fermenting and either burst a gasket or turn vinegary.

Depending on how much sugar you use in the first place, and how long it ferments, this formula ends up something like a sparkling, very dry, ginger ale. Not sweet and with a complex, slightly beery flavour; in fact, it also goes some way to making up for the lack of beer on a gluten free diet. I make a batch one or two times a week. Between batches, the grains sit in sugar water in a much smaller glass jar in the fridge.

That's the ginger beer version. You can make all sorts of varieties. Fruit brews are particularly good - complex, fruity and winey; I made one with wild blackberries that was absolutely ambrosial, like a beaker of the warm south. White grape juice makes something like champagne, and apple juice a dry cider. In this case, though, it's better to keep the fruit element apart from the grains. Just add a bottle of finished kefir, or some sugar water from the resting grains in the fridge, to the juiced fruit and then proceed as before.

Safety note: when I first started making water kefir, I read all sorts of dire warnings about exploding bottles. I've never had a problem yet, but it's certainly possible if the fermentation allows too much gas to build up - if you use a lot of sugar and leave the stuff out for too long. This sounds scary, but with common sense you shouldn't have a problem. My initial fermentation jar doesn't have a completely airtight lid, so that lets excess pressure escape at that stage. Failing that you could cover the jar, or jug, with cloth or kitchen paper and a rubber band just to keep the dust and flies out. For the second stage - the bottle conditioning - you can use plastic pop or water bottles. Beer bottles are designed to withstand some pressure, though. If you're making something about as fizzy as beer, you'll be fine. And you pretty soon get to know how fizzy the brew gets, and how soon. A good thing to do is, at least for the first few batches, to open the cap once or twice a day to see how the pressure is building. A huge gust as you open it and you know there's a lot of pressure. It's also as well to try this over a sink, as occasionally you might get a geyser fountaining out. In my experience though, this only happens with very fruity beverages.

Safety note no.2: some alcohol will be generated. I've seen estimates ranging from 0-2%. Personally, I'd guess from the taste and lack of intoxicating effects that it's on the lower end of that. Perfectly ok to give children, in my opinion, though to be absolutely safe you might want to avoid quaffing literally pints of the stuff before getting behind the wheel. Of course, you might want a more alcoholic brew, in which case you could try upping the sugar content and going for a longer fermentation. (You could also experiment with adding hops, I suppose. Traditionally these were used in beer for their antibacterial action - suppressing the bacterial growth in favour of the yeast, the yeast being the more potent alcohol-creators.) Be warned, though - letting the mixture get too alcoholic in the initial stage when the grains are still present could well pickle and kill them. Better confine the alcohol pursuit to the second stage, and bear in mind the need for caution with pressure build-up, as above.

Monday, 25 July 2011

Caramelised banana and eggs

I made this on a whim, for breakfast. One morning recently I had lightly fried eggs, on their own. I poured the remaining butter in the pan over them, and my partner, seeing the plate swimming in golden liquid, asked if I was having syrup on my eggs. That sounds naughty, I thought, but it's not a bad idea!

I caramelised some slices of banana in butter and a dash of maple syrup. Broke in a couple of eggs and let them cook slowly. Poured over all the butter and syrup, and a dash of cream. It was delicious - although when you don't eat much sweet stuff, it's amazing how phenomenally sweet a slice of fried banana can be. Not something to be indulged in on a daily basis, perhaps - though I used only half a small banana and maybe 5grams of syrup, so in actual fact it's not too terribly high on the carbs anyway.

Friday, 22 July 2011

Saffron cod

Very simple: a few sliced new potatoes, a tomato, plenty of butter, a couple of lemon wedges, water, white wine, salt, pepper and a pinch of saffron. Cook over a low heat until the potatoes are nearly done, then add cod fillets and cook for another 8-10 minutes. Take the fish out, if need be, to reduce the remaining liquid to a sauce. More butter.

I've often thought this would work well with chicken, too, but have never got round to trying it.

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

Date and walnut cheesecake

I'm quite a late convert to cheesecake. I grew up the the 1970s, when cheesecake usually meant an unholy amalgam of Philadelphia and Dream Topping, extruded onto a base of mumbled Rich Tea biscuits, chilled to death and served in sticky, unpleasantly cheesy, oversweetened bricks with the texture of soft bubblegum. It was years before I realised there even was such a thing as baked cheesecake.

Another great thing about cheesecake is that it's very easy to make gluten free, it's generally not too heavy on the sugar (and if you're making it yourself, you can put in as little sugar as you like), and it's high in lovely butterfat.

This version ended up quite a bit higher in total sugar than I'd usually make because of the dates, but even so it compares very favourably to the average dessert. The date and walnut was an experiment; it was a birthday cake for my partner, who's rather keen on old-school date and walnut cake.

Ingredients were 100g walnuts, about 150g dates, about 40g sugar, 250g each mascarpone and ricotta, 25g butter, 3 eggs, vanilla extract, and a dash of rum. (I soaked the walnuts in salt water for several hours to lessen the lectins, then dried them off in a cool oven).

Some time beforehand, put about half the dates to soak in the rum. Blitz the walnuts, the un-rummed half of the dates, butter and half the sugar in the food processor to a fine sticky gravel, press into the base of a 12-inch springform cake tin and give it about half an hour at 150C. Blitz the rum-soaked dates with a couple of dollops of the ricotta and enough water to make a thin paste, and set aside. Mix the remaining ricotta, mascarpone, remaining sugar, vanilla and egg yolks into a smooth cream. Whip the egg whites until relatively stiff, then fold into the cream mixture. Finally, fold in the date liquor - the aim is marbling, rather than blended, which didn't exactly work out for me. Tip the whole lot into the tin over the base, and bake at 150C for about 90 minutes.

Divided into 12, that works out about 230cal, 20g fat, 15g carb per portion.

Liver

The latest in my ongoing campaign to wean myself onto offal, starting at the shallow end with liver. Last time, it was lamb's liver, and I can't honestly say I enjoyed it. I tried it again, reasoning that if I blended it into a paté with various other things it would make the flavour a bit less aggressive. I was wrong. The other flavours - onion, garlic, pepper, a ton of dill - just seemed to somehow intensify the liver taste, rather than camouflage it. I got through the stuff, a couple of spoonfuls at a time over a few days at lunchtime, but it was an exercise in determination.

Nevertheless, after a couple of weeks off, it was time for round three. This time it was venison liver. I reasoned that since I don't like lamb that much (that's also something I'm working on), maybe lamb liver was a bad place to start. I let the slices sit in lemon juice for several hours before I cooked it, which allegedly softens the flavour. I fried it briefly - about 90 seconds each side in a hot, cast iron pan, then left it to sit off the heat for five minutes to finish under its own steam. Had it with onion fried with sage and pepper, and some strips of fried pancetta.

It was actually pretty nice. I almost enjoyed it. There were moments, when I wasn't thinking about it too much, when I really did enjoy it. Success!

Friday, 8 July 2011

Fried salad

Summer lunch is generally salad. Several days of dismal weather, though, began to wear down the most determined optimism. I could have made a soup, but I'd already begun assembling the salad ingredients when I found myself rebelling against the thought of eating something cold. So I just chucked the stuff - peppers, courgettes, tomatoes, red onion - into the pan with some olive oil. Right at the end I added shredded lettuce. Topped with some fried halloumi.

Sunday, 3 July 2011

Breadless tuna melt

When making gluten free versions of things, something that quite quickly becomes clear is that it's usually what comes with the gluten that's what you really want. Like with pizza on a plate - the toppings are the star of the show. In the case of a tuna melt, the hot tuna with a base of onions and cheese soaking into it.

I put a layer of onion in the pan, piled on the tuna, mashed it out flat into a patty shape, fresh dill because I happened to have some, and a layer of sliced cheddar on top. It sat on a low heat for a few minutes until the cheese had melted. I scooped it onto a salad. It didn't hold together very well, but that was ok.