A Long and Messy Business. Rowley Leigh

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СКАЧАТЬ onion, peeled and sliced

      3 cloves

      grated nutmeg, for seasoning

      125ml (4fl oz) double cream

      8 slices of cooked smoked

      ham

      50g (13⁄4oz) Gruyère or

      Emmenthal cheese, grated

      salt and white pepper

      Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F, Gas Mark 4).

      Remove the outside leaves of the endives. Butter a large

      gratin dish and lay the endives on top. Dot with 50g (13⁄4oz)

      of the butter and add the lemon juice, white wine, sugar

      and a good seasoning of salt and freshly ground white

      pepper. Cover with a sheet of buttered foil and bake in the

      oven for 45 minutes.

      Melt the remaining 30g (1oz) butter in a small

      saucepan and add the flour, stirring to make a roux. Once

      it is a sandy texture, moisten with a few tablespoons of the

      milk to make a smooth paste, then very gradually pour in

      the remainder, whisking constantly until the sauce forms.

      Add the thyme, bay leaves, onion and cloves, then season

      with salt, pepper and a hint of nutmeg and simmer on an

      extremely gentle heat for 20 minutes. Strain the béchamel

      sauce then return it to the saucepan.

      Pour off the liquid from the endives into the warm

      béchamel, whisk well, then add the cream. Bring to a

      simmer and cook for 5 minutes, whisking occasionally

      and reducing slightly.

      Once the endives have cooled a little, wrap each one

      in a slice of ham and return to the gratin dish. Cover

      generously with the sauce and return to the oven for

      10 minutes. Sprinkle over the cheese and brown under

      a hot grill or in the oven at 200°C (400°F, Gas Mark 6).

      Serve with a salad for a light lunch or supper, or on their

      own as a starter.

      WINE: Whites will have to full bodied whilst retaining

      good acidity: an Alsace Sylvaner, a Trocken Riesling, a

      Bordeaux blanc all suggest themselves. A serious

      Beaujolais might be even better.

      88

      May Sound Pedestrian

      Risi e Luganeghe

      ‘Risotto’ used to be a standard part of our diet when I was

      growing up. It was a portmanteau dish which involved

      frying up a few leftovers, perhaps opening a can or two

      and then adding some rice, which had usually been cooked

      beforehand. It was somewhat stodgy but perfectly

      acceptable, better than the dreaded ‘rissoles’ – don’t ask

      – but not a patch on toad-in-the-hole.

      A few smart London trattorias in the 1960s put us right

      about risotto, but it was at least another decade before

      most of us became aware of what a proper one should

      consist of. It was all about the rice. The other ingredients

      were just flavouring. Moreover, the rice had to be lovingly

      turned in butter and onions and then stirred constantly

      while hot stock was slowly added so that the starch from

      the rice formed a soupy emulsion with the stock.

      Now we knew. It did not stop us from overcooking the

      rice, overcomplicating the dish or whacking in some pretty

      unpleasant flavours, but at least we knew the rules. The

      problem with rules when it comes to Italian cooking, not

      to put too fine a point on it, is Italians. I do not mean this

      disparagingly, nor do I suggest that Italian cooks do not

      follow rules: quite the contrary. It is just that the rules are

      more varied and complicated than those of Rugby Union,

      Stableford golf and Mornington Crescent (the silly game

      played on BBC Radio 4) put together.

      In Piedmont, they make risotto but also boil their

      risotto rice and dress it with butter, lemon juice and

      basil (this preparation is my favourite filling for stuffed

      tomatoes). In the Veneto, they cook their risotto in a

      bewildering number of ways, sometimes coming up with

      risi e bisati, a substantial dish of eels and rice flavoured

      with parsley and garlic, sometimes with risi e bisi, a soupy

      mix of rice and the first very tender peas of the season.

      Whereas both these dishes can be called risotto, risi e

      luganeghe, also from the Veneto, could not. It is, in truth,

      more like paella, since the few ingredients are cooked first,

      stock added and then the rice is simply sprinkled in and

      left to cook. Italian rice, whether Arborio, Vialone Nano,

      Carnaroli (which I use here), or something even more

      obscure, is more delicate than Spanish varieties and the

      texture СКАЧАТЬ