Cooking For Friends Part 1

Cooking for Friends.

by Gordon Ramsay & Ditte Isager.

Introduction.

As a chef, I work at a thousand miles an hour, but when I'm at home, I want to slow down. I leave my chef's jacket at work, and I walk into a domestic setting, where everything is completely different. At home, our kitchen is family-run, and it's a relaxed place.

A lot of people see cooking as a ch.o.r.e, but we bring an element of fun into it. For me, it's a therapy, and it's happening more and more that I cook with Tana and the children, especially Megan, my oldest. The kitchen is open-plan, with a large sofa and s.p.a.ce to unwind. The focus is on the stove, which was built in Paris. It needed a concrete plinth as its foundation, to carry the weight, and after it was installed, the kitchen was built around it. The stove has a chrome-faced, water-cooled frontage so the kids can't burn themselves while they're involved in the food preparation, slicing scallions or grating fresh Parmesan.

I can't sit at home with my feet up, reading the newspaper. But having said that, I am beginning to learn about being calm. Everyone always imagines that it must be hectic in the Ramsays' kitchen, but it's not. We turn cooking into serious fun. To an extent, everything we do is spontaneous. We're very lucky in that we have some great farmers' markets nearby. The kids will go and buy cheese, fresh organic chicken, and a selection of the farmers' vegetables. They become totally involved in the shopping, even putting aside a percentage of their weekly allowance to buy food. They really love that. Have a young child pay for a pound of turnips or carrots, and then see how excited they are about what's on the plate later.

My kids get an allowance according to their age. Megan's nine, so she's on 9. The twins, Holly and Jack, are on 8, and Tilly is on 6. They all wait for their birthdays because they know they'll get a 1 increase.

They are learning that in order to live well and have a healthy lifestyle, they have to eat well. If none of them pursues cooking as a career, that's not going to upset me. I just need to know that they will one day be able to fend for themselves in the kitchen.

The naughtiest child on the day gets to do the dishwas.h.i.+ng. Whoever's not on was.h.i.+ng-up duty will set the table. We do have a dishwasher, but it's rarely used, unless we have a big party going on in the garden. I think the kids need to know what it's like to wash the dishes.

When I was a child, we had a cleaning rota at home. I didn't grow up with dishwashers and everything being done for you. As four children, we were all involved, and Mum managed a strict rota, so no one escaped their turn at the dishwas.h.i.+ng, even though we had busy lives: me with my soccer and the others with their music.

I'm a bit old-fas.h.i.+oned in this way. I don't have rules and regulations at home, but what I do have is a very hands-on family. It's not me standing there, cooking away and everyone watching. On Sat.u.r.day morning, after the girls have been to the gym and Jack has finished his soccer practice, we come back and prepare a late lunch together. We won't eat dinner until seven thirty, eight o'clock, and then it will be a slow braise. For Sunday lunch, we have friends and family around. Over the weekend, we might indulge in a dessert, but Monday to Friday dinner is a substantial main course followed by fruit.

Not everything we eat comes from the farmers' market. It would be great, but just not practical. Tana will shop two or three times a week at a supermarket, and I have to say that some of the supermarkets are doing some really good, interesting food lines. Out of respect for real quality ingredients, we also go to specialist purveyors, like our butcher. Knowing where your food comes from and being able to trace it right back to its source is important to me.

I'd rather spend more and eat less, buy the best quality ingredients and savor them, buy what we need and no more. Sometimes I find it embarra.s.sing when I see the amount of food that we, as a nation, waste.

I find it frustrating that we are forgetting that there has always been a traditional British cuisine, and that it doesn't have to revolve around steak and kidney pie, or fish and chips. I remember watching my mother cook at the Cobweb tearooms in Stratford-upon-Avon, making ham hock and barley soup, white veal stew, and the most amazing honey-glazed roast ham-all, of course, served with fries. What you don't see nowadays is the way she used to stud the ham with cloves and caramelize it. All that now-forgotten, unfas.h.i.+onable stuff was traditional British cooking. Wonderful, but cast aside in our haste to experiment with modern fads.

We are at risk of trying to make food too sophisticated as we move along, changing ingredients to follow what's in vogue. The words "trendy food," "trendy restaurants," and, especially, "trendy chef" make me cringe. It is not always necessary to use foie gras with the finest filet mignon and line-caught turbot. Sometimes it's just better to braise some oxtail and cook with mackerel, pollack, or barramundi.

I'm always excited around food. There are so many opportunities to prepare and eat good food in the home if you have the patience and determination. I am sure that once you are good at making fabulous fresh pasta, you will want to make ravioli. Once you've mastered the perfect ravioli, you will want to get more intricate with the filling. A domestic kitchen is a far superior place to what it was ten years ago, with amazing gadgets and appliances. Most of us are compet.i.tive. We want to outdo our neighbors. We know and understand the importance of eating well. So if you mix that with a peac.o.c.k desire to be the one who hosts the best dinner parties, you will be on the path to a whole new dimension in your life at home.

But don't get overconfident and miss the point when preparing a dinner party. Lighten up, have a gla.s.s of wine. Have your guests in the kitchen with you, and instead of showing off to them, involve them. Delegate the first course and the dessert while you tend to the main course. What can be difficult for me when going to dinner parties is people hanging on your every forkful. The food has been prepared in order to be enjoyed. It should be relaxing, not taking you into a stress zone.

The palate can be educated. It's a matter of learning, of discipline, and of practice. It is also the best reason in the world to stop smoking. Smoking will always dull your palate and confuse your tastebuds. It's a bit like playing soccer with your bootlaces tied together.

I love to see an array of cookbooks on someone's shelf. It means that I can see who excites people. I have hundreds of cookbooks in my kitchen. I especially love to see a top chef's recipes domesticated for home use, although I get nervous if people tell me that they follow my recipes word for word. A recipe is a guideline. Adding, subtracting, evolving it-that is part of the pleasure. If a particular herb is not to your taste, if you don't like the strength of rosemary, say, then by all means, use thyme, especially lemon thyme. If you prefer the purple basil in the middle of summer, then great (if you ever can get it). If you are not excited about using rutabaga the way I am, then subst.i.tute celery root. We don't eat enough roots like these and turnips or kohlrabies-in terms of flavor, they're extraordinary.

Adapting a recipe's ingredients is completely in your hands. But the method is what really matters. The techniques in cooking are rigorous and imperative: They are your pa.s.sport to a successful dish. Cooks must practice, practice, practice. Anyone can learn, but you need focus, proper understanding, and to go at the right pace, not running before you can walk.

I'll never forget, as a 22-year-old commis chef, working for the Roux brothers, when all I wanted to do was bake-make the most amazing puff pastry, choux pastry, sourdough bread, and tomato and olive bread, using a natural yeast and fermentation. As a baker, you would start at midnight and work until midday. At half past midnight, the kitchen fell silent. All you could hear were the timers and the steamers for the second rise. On one occasion, I had to put together this marquise chocolate. Pascal, the young French pastry chef I was taking the section over from, could hardly speak English. He left me a box of After Eight mints, and said that I was to put a layer of chocolate mousse in the bottom of the mold and then add the After Eights. He wanted me to cut them in half and arrange them in threes in order to get this line of mints going through the mousse. I was thinking: this guy's winding me up. He's trying to get me into trouble. So I ate the mints instead.

The next day, Albert Roux came in. You have to give him one of everything, down to every bread roll, so that he can taste it all. I gave him the marquise, and he went bananas because it didn't have the mints running through the center. I couldn't believe he would make an amazing chocolate mousse and stick After Eight mints in the middle. I got a b.o.l.l.o.c.king. The marquise was thrown in the trash, and I had to start again. I grew up on a council estate, living in subsidized housing, but have been able to learn from the best. I've trained my palate with some of the greatest chefs. But sometimes you have to question even the best and greatest. Cookery is quite a journey. Take nothing for granted.

Gordon Ransay

hot and cold soups Soups are truly versatile: They can be as light or substantial as you want. In small amounts, a soup can excite the palate in the form of a first course. Enrich the broth or bulk it up with chunky ingredients and it is a satisfying main course.

I fell in love with chowders when I spent a few months filming in the U.S. We tasted amazing New England clam chowders on the East Coast. In San Francisco, one of the main treats was sourdough bread bowls filled with thick bisques and creamy soups. Once you've devoured the soup, you're left with a flavorful bread bowl to break apart and savor.

Whether you're making an elegant blended soup or a more homey chowder, always start with a good base. Good-quality stock provides a depth of flavor that brings together all the elements in a soup. It is also important to season well.

Chilled cuc.u.mber soup Curried cauliflower and Cheddar soup Roast chestnut, parsnip, and apple soup Asparagus veloute Alnwick soup Broccoli, Stilton, and pear soup Conger eel bisque Italian-style turnip soup Cornish crab soup Oxtail soup Summer soup Crayfish chowder Baked potato soup with sour cream Creamy sorrel soup

Chilled cuc.u.mber soup Nothing beats a chilled cuc.u.mber soup on a hot, balmy day: It cools the body and whets the appet.i.te. I find a little horseradish cream brings the soup alive, but you can leave it out to keep the flavors subtle and light.

SERVES 4 4 AS A FIRST COURSE AS A FIRST COURSE.

3 English cuc.u.mbers, about 1 pounds each, straight from the refrigerator lemon juice to taste 1 tablespoon olive oil handful of fresh dillweed, leaves roughly chopped, plus a few fronds for garnish 2 cups plain yogurt 12 tablespoons cream-style horseradish, or to taste (optional)

Peel the cuc.u.mbers and cut two lengthwise into quarters. Slice off the seedy core from each quarter, then chop into dice. Put into a large bowl and set aside.

Peel the remaining cuc.u.mber into long, thin ribbons using a swivel vegetable peeler. (Cut the ribbons in half if you think they are too long.) Place in another bowl and toss with a little lemon juice, the olive oil, chopped dill, and a seasoning of salt and pepper. Cover with plastic wrap and keep refrigerated until ready to serve.

Put half the yogurt, a pinch of salt, some pepper, and half the chopped cuc.u.mber into a blender. Blitz to a smooth puree. Press the puree through a fine sieve, pus.h.i.+ng down hard with the back of a ladle. Discard the cuc.u.mber pulp in the sieve. Repeat the process with the remaining chopped cuc.u.mber and yogurt. Taste and adjust the seasoning of the cuc.u.mber puree, adding horseradish or a squeeze of lemon juice, as desired. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate if not serving immediately.

To serve, pour the cold soup into chilled bowls and garnish with the dressed cuc.u.mber ribbons and dill fronds.

Curried cauliflower and Cheddar soup.

A little curry powder and saffron elevate the cla.s.sic combination of cauliflower and cheese to another dimension in this soup. It is ideal as a welcoming first course or a comforting and warming lunch when the weather is cold. The soup is delicious served with warm Indian bread.

SERVES 6 6 AS A FIRST COURSE OR AS A FIRST COURSE OR 4 4 AS A LIGHT LUNCH AS A LIGHT LUNCH.

4 tablespoons olive oil 2 small onions, chopped 2 celery ribs, chopped 1 medium head of cauliflower, cut into florets 1 teaspoon mild curry powder pinch of saffron strands 1 cups hot chicken or vegetable stock (see Chapter 9) 1 cups milk 4 ounces medium or sharp Cheddar, grated (about 1 heaped cup)

Heat half the oil in a large pot and add the onions and celery. Stir over medium heat until the vegetables are beginning to soften, 34 minutes. Add the remaining oil, the cauliflower florets, curry powder, and saffron, and season with salt and pepper. Stir well and cook for a couple of minutes. Cover the pot and cook for 45 minutes, lifting the lid to give the mixture a stir every now and then.