Nigella Christmas: Food, Family, Friends, Festivities (10 page)

This is good with absolutely everything – plain chicken or fish, or heaped over pasta or rice or anything.

Serves 8

1 × 15ml tablespoon garlic oil

200g pancetta cubes (or lardons)

6 spring onions, sliced

15g butter

1 teaspoon dried thyme

900g frozen petits pois

175ml boiling water, from a kettle

250ml double cream

50g Parmesan flakes

• Heat the garlic oil in a large, heavy-based pan (with a lid) or a flameproof casserole and tumble in the cubetti di pancetta or bacon cubes or lardons (however you like to think of them) and let them cook for about 5 minutes.

• Add the spring onions, stir well, and cook for a further 3 minutes.

• Add the butter and thyme to the pan or casserole, stir well, then tip in the frozen peas. Cook for a few minutes, stirring, until the frost begins to leave the peas and they start to look a brighter green.

• Add the water, give another stir, then stir in the cream. Bring to a bubble, put the lid on and let it cook for 15 minutes.

• Take the pan off the heat, and remove the lid while you stir in the Parmesan flakes, then put it back on to let the peas cool in their flavoursome cream. The peas will dull down, losing their bright green colour as they cool and sit. This is as it should be, and don’t worry about it; they may look less vibrant but they taste more vivid.

• To reheat, put the pan over a low to medium heat and keep it covered-opening it only to stir occasionally – for 5–10 minutes.

MAKE AHEAD TIP:

Complete the recipe but without the Parmesan cheese. Allow to cool, cover and keep in the fridge for up to 1 day. To reheat, put the pan over a low to medium heat and stir in the Parmesan flakes. Cover and reheat gently, stirring occasionally, for about 5–10 minutes.

POTATO, PARSNIP AND PORCINI GRATIN

Cooking potatoes for large numbers of people is not always easy. This gratin makes it so, not least because I don’t peel the potatoes (or the parsnips for that matter). Obviously, you don’t need to make it ahead, but knowing you can is a help. There is a fabulously musky scent to this gratin, which comes in part from the star anise, in part from the porcini, and also from the culinary alchemy of all the ingredients together. And the thing is, for something so sweetly comforting, it is – I cannot explain why – somehow grand and exquisite, too.

Serves 8

10g dried porcini, or ceps

150ml boiling water, from a kettle

50g butter

1 × 15ml tablespoon garlic oil

500ml full-fat milk

500ml double cream

3 star anise

1 teaspoon Maldon salt or ½ teaspoon table salt

good grinding of pepper

900g potatoes

900g parsnips

• Soak the porcini in the boiling water for about 20–30 minutes.

• Preheat the oven to 220°C/gas mark 7. Heat the butter and garlic oil in a large pan.

• Drain the porcini, reserving the liquid, then finely chop the mushrooms and add them to the pan to cook for a couple of minutes.

• Add the mushroom-liquid, milk, cream, star anise and salt and pepper.

• Without peeling the potatoes or parsnips, slice them into 1cm round slices and add to the pan.

• Bring the pan to a bubbling simmer and then gently cook, partially covered, for 20 minutes, or until the potato and parsnip are tender but not mushy.

• Decant into a gratin-type, ovenproof dish (mine is a round shallow casserole, about 30cm × 7cm deep).

• Cook in the oven for about 40 minutes (it will need longer if you have cooked it ahead and left it to cool before putting in the oven) or until the top is coloured in places and the gratin looks bubbly underneath.

MAKE AHEAD TIP:

Decant the vegetables into the gratin dish and leave to cool. Cover tightly with clingfilm and keep in the fridge for up to 1 day. To cook, leave the dish at room temperature for about 40 minutes. Cook in the oven as directed.

FREEZE AHEAD TIP:

Cool and cover the vegetables as above, then freeze for up to 1 week. To use, thaw overnight in the fridge, and cook as above.

THREE STIR-TOGETHER SAUCES

WHOLEGRAIN HONEY MUSTARD MAYONNAISE

REDCURRANT AND WHOLEGRAIN MUSTARD SAUCE

BEETROOT AND HORSERADISH SAUCE

This trio of sauces is just what you need to be able to prink something into dinner-party fare. And sometimes, it’s not so much partifying as adding a crucial touch that makes everything feel complete. There is something about the contrast of components in each whisked-up sauce that offers complexity to the taste while being simple to make: the sweetness of the beetroot plays against the heat of the horseradish; the pepperiness of the mustard counters the fruity sweetness of the jelly; and the sharpness, again of the mustard, undercuts the richness of the mayonnaise.

WHOLEGRAIN HONEY MUSTARD MAYONNAISE

I love the combination of mustard and mayonnaise, my earliest savour of which was years ago, frightening how many, dolloped alongside some hot skinny chips in Amsterdam. The one here is very different, and different again from the smooth, but equally delicious Dijonnaise I’ve run into since. This is sweet and nubbly and gorgeous with cold chicken, cold turkey, ham, hot baked potato or in any sandwich.

Makes enough to serve as a condiment for 8 people

200g good-quality, shop-bought mayonnaise, preferably organic

75g wholegrain mustard

1 teaspoon runny honey

squeeze of lemon

salt to taste

• Put the mayonnaise into a bowl and dollop in the mustard, whisking well to combine.

• Add the honey and a spritz of lemon and whisk again, tasting for balance and seasoning.

NOTE:

It may be helpful to think in terms of ratios rather than amounts: in volume (not weight), you have a quarter mustard here to mayo; add honey and lemon juice (and indeed salt) to taste.

MAKE AHEAD TIP:

Cover and keep in the fridge for up to 1 week.

REDCURRANT AND WHOLEGRAIN MUSTARD SAUCE

This has a distinctly Scandinavian taste, and is the perfect accompaniment to baked ham, eaten hot or cold. It can also make a quick glaze for sausages or, indeed, the ham before you’ve baked it.

Makes enough to serve as a condiment for 8 people; it’s easy to augment, as you’re using equal amounts of each

150g wholegrain mustard

150g redcurrant jelly

• There is really nothing to this: you simply put the ingredients together and whisk till they’re combined. If you’ve kept either of them in the fridge and they’re too hard to mix, just whisk them in a saucepan over a low heat until they do what they’re told.

MAKE AHEAD TIP:

Cover and keep in a cool place for up to 3 days or longer if in the fridge.

ABOVE:

Wholegrain Honey Mustard Mayonnaise (left); Redcurrant and Wholegrain Mustard Sauce (right))

BEETROOT AND HORSERADISH SAUCE

This, in effect, is the Jewish chrayn, which makes an unorthodox outing in a Christmas book. I include it here because it enlivens cold turkey and other leftovers, and is particularly wonderful with roast goose or, it must be said, pork.

Because I’m usually pressed for time, I grate the beetroot into hot horseradish sauce from a jar (to which I’ve added the crème fraîche) but if you have time, you can grate 3 × 15ml tablespoons of horseradish (use a Microplane grater, as for the beetroot) and the small beetroot into a 200ml pot of crème fraîche and add half a teaspoon of Dijon mustard, and salt to taste, stirring well to combine.

Makes enough to serve as a condiment for 8 eaters

200g hot horseradish sauce

2 × 15ml tablespoons crème fraîche (or sour cream)

1 small, uncooked beetroot

• Whisk or stir together the hot horseradish sauce with the crème fraîche in a wide bowl (this makes it easier when you grate in the beetroot).

• Put on vinyl disposable gloves (if you know what’s good for you) and peel the beetroot before pressing it through a fine Microplane grater held over the horseradish bowl. Rap the grater when you’ve all but finished (don’t grate so far that you risk mixing your own blood with the beetroot’s) to knock in all the red gunge.

• Stir or whisk to combine and decant to a serving bowl or a jar.

MAKE AHEAD TIP:

Cover and keep in the fridge for 1 day.

COME ON OVER …

STRESS-FREE SUPPERS

I DON’T THINK I CAN REMEMBER when I last gave a dinner party. This isn’t an admission of regret or guilty confession, but a thankful statement of fact. Friends over for supper is a different matter, though. Around Christmas, I love to pile people in and I don’t mind if it’s every evening; in fact, that’s what I want to happen. From mid December onwards, sometimes even earlier, I want the house to be filled with people sitting around a table, talking and eating.

But this is very much about supper and not dinner. For one thing, I invite people over unfashionably early. I get things ready, but not fussily organized. I plonk cutlery, red napkins in snowflake rings and the shiny multi-coloured tealight holders I bought at one of the children’s school Christmas fairs on the bare wood table, along with a pile of plates, add drinks and wait for people to come, sit around and help themselves. I don’t go in for serving drinks in one room, with everyone having to get up and shuffle into another to eat. I like to keep the scene of the crime contained. I think it feels cosier, but it makes life easier, too. Besides, I don’t like having to act as some sort of MC or white-knuckled party organizer, desperately trying to herd people through the evening. That’s not relaxing for anyone.

And, although I’m very happy to have company while I’m pottering stoveside, the food I make for my season of suppers requires so little last-minute attention, I’m never in hostess-meltdown. Most of the menus I suggest here can be prepared largely in advance, or else practically cook themselves. I don’t factor in a starter, because I just have never found them necessary. You don’t have to agree with me, and the soups and salads in Seasonal Support can help you bump up a two-course supper into a tripartite dinner with gratifying ease. I certainly do, however, put something – most usually one of the Crostini or the Seasonally Spiced Nuts from The More The Merrier – on the table for people to graze on over drinks as they arrive.

I also feel that, around Christmas, you have to have bowlfuls of lychees and clementines or satsumas to bring out either with pudding or even instead. And, please, the season surely demands a bowl of nuts with a nutcracker nestling in them, as well.

All I want, at this time of year, is to be able to have the people I love round a table with me and the food that follows makes me know I can do this, and enjoy it.

A LUSCIOUS DINNER FOR 6–8

LAMB AND DATE TAGINE

RED ONION AND POMEGRANATE RELISH

GLEAMING MAPLE CHEESECAKE

The symbolic aspect of feast foods has always been an important part of the ritual of celebration; sweet ingredients are there not just to please the palate, but also to bring corresponding harmony to the home. La douceur du foyer, that ironic Baudelairean yearning for home, sweet home, and the pleasures of the hearth, is never more keenly felt (or often, indeed, as futilely) as it is at this time of year. I know that good food does not automatically create a good mood, but friends and family gathered around a treat-laden table can make the difference, to both cook and eater. And this indulgent, aromatic menu is the perfect way to begin our season of spirit-lifting suppers.

If the pudding sounds rich after the sweet substantiality of the main course, well – what can I tell you? – it is Christmas, after all. But, while I make no claims for the dietary restraint of this menu – as if – it is actually the case that the cheesecake has, in each more-ish mouthful, just the tang and the melting lightness that you want after the tagine. The maple syrup that cascades lightly on top and sometimes down the sides is sweet enough to hold its own after the swelling fruitiness of the dates, but not so sweet that it creates overload.

An easy, no-cook alternative for getting this balance of sweet first, tang after, is to provide, instead of pudding, a snowy log or two of tender goat’s cheese, and perhaps some honey to drizzle over it.

And I’m sure you know my views by now on the enduring desirability of loading the table with seasonal fruits, so both you, and those you’re feeding, can play it any way you or they want, to finish dinner.

LAMB AND DATE TAGINE

I admit, I often call a stew a tagine because it sounds more appealing, but this can more authentically claim rights to the title: it is, after all, Moroccan in substance and inspiration and I have indeed cooked it in the tagine – that Moroccan funnel-lidded casserole – which gives the stew its name.

You don’t need to have a tagine to cook it, so don’t worry. What the traditionally shaped tagine – with its shallow base and conical lid – does is to allow a lot of steam to circulate so that a relatively small amount of liquid gives a lot of flavour and intensity to the dish. But, conversely, I find using a pan into which all the ingredients fit snugly, with a tight-fitting lid, does the trick just as well. As to size, what you need here is a tagine base, or wide, shallow, lidded pan or casserole, with a 3-litre capacity.

Strangely, my local supermarket sells diced leg of lamb for stewing in 340g packets; if I’m not getting the neat kilo of meat from my butcher, I buy three of these packets. I have chosen goose fat as a cooking medium here only because I always have some in the house over Christmas, but do use regular olive (not extra virgin) oil if you prefer.

The dates make this tagine rich and sweet, which is just how it should be; the fragrant, almost-sourness of the pomegranate helps to punctuate this. The spices permeate the atmosphere with warmth and festive spirit. If you wish to, you could serve some plain couscous alongside – prepare 500g as for the Festive Couscous, but leave out the sultanas and the post-soaking adornment.

3–4 × 15ml tablespoons goose fat (or olive oil)

2 onions, peeled and chopped

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon