The Viking Gets Chili – Blazing Campfire Chili

Mexico and Texas.  Two places divided by a national border – on one side sits the USA, fat and happy in a giant ten gallon hat, and on the other sits Me-hi-co, full of, er, bandidos and tequila and Billy the Kid.  OK, so I learned pretty much all I know about Mexico from Young Guns and Red Dead Redemption; and all I know about Texas has been gleaned from brief glimpses of Dallas and Smokey and the Bandit.

There was one more film (that is to say, documentary) that gave great insight in to the ways of life in the old west.  Blazing Saddles was its name, and it contains one of the most famous scenes in movie history:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6dm9rN6oTs

And, using farts as inspiration, that leads me on to this week’s recipe.  Rich, meaty, spicy, chilli con carne for you to blow the top of your head off (and the curtains out) with.  Now, there is one thing that we should deal with straight away.

Beans, or no beans?

There are some people (one of them happens to be married to me) who say that a Chili just isn’t a Chili unless there are beans in it.  There are others, like myself, who insist that kidney beans are something akin to what one would find ‘twixt the buttocks of a demon who has recently sat on a cold wall, despite the warnings of its long-ganged mother.  Still, your preferences for demon-haemorrhoids aside, there really are two ways to think about this.

It’s reckoned that in San Antonio (and other places that are associated with the origins of Chili) that beans were often used to bulk out, or instead of, the meat.  In more eastern areas, the term Chili is reserved for the all-meat dish, the term Chili Beans being used for the version with beans in it.

However you like it, you know that a good Chili can be a real life-affirming bowl of proteins and carbohydrate.  And, with a bit of love, care and attention (as well as a side order of patience), this can go from being your average ‘trail food’ to something that will leave you sweating – yet reaching out for more.

The Viking Gets Chili – Blazing Campfire Chili

Run to the shops, or to your store cupboard, and get your STUFF:

- MEAT.  500g of minced beef will feed four hungry people

- A few slices of Bacon

- Kidney beans (if you really must)

- Chopped tomatoes

- Chopped mushrooms

- A large red onion

- 4 cloves of garlic, minced

- Tomato puree

- A little beef stock

- A spoonful of English mustard

- A dash of Tabasco sauce

- A whole bunch of herbs and spices: A teaspoon of cumin, coriander, fennel, black pepper and paprika

- Hot Chili powder – be careful with this!  It’s really not joking when it says hot.  Half a teaspoon will give you a zingy mouth.  One teaspoon will give you a slight, enjoyable sweat.  Two teaspoons will require lots of cold beer.  Three will lift the top of your head off, and four will see you go volcanic, and will quite possibly lead to major delays on international flight routes.  You have been warned!

- Fresh Chilli (optional) – chopped for colour and flavour (if you’re using fresh Chilli, remember to change your chili powder levels accordingly…

Got all that?  Good.  Let’s get cooking, eh?

Method:

1)      Over a low heat, fry off onions and garlic in a heavy-bottomed pan

2)      Chop bacon, and fry off in the onion and garlic until brown

3)      Add minced beef, turn up the heat, and fry until browned

4)      Throw in herbs and spices, stir until the meat and onion has a nice covering

5)      Add a carton of chopped tomatoes and stir

6)      Add Mushrooms

7)      Drizzle in a splash of Tabasco sauce and, if you’re feeling fruity, a splash of Lea and Perrin’s

8)      Add beef stock.  I used a Knorr stock pot, a brilliant little cheat

9)      Reduce to a simmer, cover pan with a lid, and walk away

That’s it.  Leave it.  All you have to do is come back every fifteen minutes or so to give the meat a stir.  Ideally, you want the sauce to reduce right down so you have a nice, thick chili.  This can be eaten after half an hour if you’re in a rush, but for perfect results you’ll be best to leave this unctuous mixture simmering for two to two and a half hours.

In the meantime, drain your kidney beans and rinse them.  Set aside in a bowlful of cold water until you need them.

Half an hour before you are ready to serve, start cooking the rice.  Long grain white rice is a must for me, especially with this dish, but brown rice will work just as well. 

Ten minutes before you want to dish up, remove the kidney beans from the cold water, and then add them to your chili mix.  Stir through, and leave uncovered for ten minutes. 

Serve!

Serve in a deep sided bowl, with a side of grated cheese for topping, and a big bowl full of tortilla chips.  Use these in lieu of knives and forks – this is food that is meant to get you mucky.  You should be red faces, slightly sweaty, with great smears of red around the corners of your mouth by the time you have finished eating.  Serve with a long, cold lager, in front of your favourite film, with your favourite people, and you’ll have a great old time.  That said, do yourselves a favour and try to keep the windows open, hombres.  You know what I mean, right?

As ever, I hope you have a go at this, and I’d be really interested to know what makes a great chili for you.  Perhaps you’re a die-hard enthusiast for Kidney Beans?  Maybe you enjoy eating food so hot you could be classified as a minor star?  Possibly you’re offended by the addition of bacon?  Whatever your foibles, I’d love to hear from you!

I’ll be back next week, with more food that makes happy people…

Viking

The Viking Fishes and Chips: I Just Coley’d to say I Love You

Think you Cod do better with your fish?  Then, my friend, you have come to the right place.  I can’t promise that there won’t be any more truly awful puns, but what I can promise is a whole new fish to consider when you’re cooking at home.

Thanks to one of my favourite TV Chefs, one Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, the plight of fish in the waters of Europe has recently been highlighted.  I’ll just quote from their excellent website (www.fishfight.net), as they say it better than I ever could:

“Fishing for one species [in mixed fisheries] often means catching another, and if people don’t want them or fishermen are not allowed to land them, the only option is to throw them overboard. The vast majority of these discarded fish will die.

Because discards are not monitored, it is difficult to know exactly how many fish are being thrown away. The EU estimates that in the North Sea, discards are between 40% and 60% of the total catch. Many of these fish are species that have fallen out of fashion: we can help to prevent their discard just by rediscovering our taste for them.

Others are prime cod, haddock, plaice and other popular food species that are “over-quota”. The quota system is intended to protect fish stocks by setting limits on how many fish of a certain species should be caught.

Fishermen are not allowed to land any over-quota fish; if they accidentally catch them – which they can’t help but do - there is no choice but to throw them overboard before they reach the docks.” (Source)

I hope you will agree that this is crazy.  The very worst part of it, for me, is that hundreds of thousands of tonnes of perfectly good fish is thrown away not out of choice, but out of necessity, and it strikes me as being an awful waste – especially as a lot of the fish that is thrown away is so good to eat you’d probably soon forget all about the humble old Cod anyway.  So, as fish eaters, we need to diversify our eating habits when it comes to the pleasures of the deep. 

Now, I live in South East London, a part of the world not usually recognised for being a fishing port – although it must be said that Penge does sound like some kind of fish.  So, when I took myself to the fishmonger last week, I was surprised to find that it wasn’t stocking its usual array of Cod, Haddock, Salmon and Prawns.  There, perched atop the ice like a little fishy wonder, was a fillet of fish that looked me square in the eyes and said “if you don’t eat me it would be a crime, sir.”  Figuratively, I mean, I did not have a psychotic episode in the middle of Sainsbury’s.  On that day, anyway.

The fillet of fish I’m talking about came from a lovely little beast called a Coley. A fish that is very similar to Cod, you may have heard it called Pollock, Saithe or Boston Blue.  The flesh of the fish, however, is darker than Cod, and for that reason this fish has a wholly undeserved reputation for being bad eating.  The plus side is that because of this reputation, two sizeable fillets will cost you about £3.  I tell you, once you’ve cooked it you’ll never believe in Cod again. (One more pun like that and I’m shutting you down – Ed.)

The other thing about SE London, and London as a whole, is the lack of good Fish and Chip shops.  Sure, there are plaices (THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING! – Ed.) where you can get fish and chips – but any self respecting Fish Emporium should not have a kebab sitting on the side slowly dripping E. Coli over everything, and it definitely shouldn’t have a self-service window on the street to serve drunks after midnight.  It should, however, be called something like “Neptune’s Pantry”, or “A Salt and Battery”, or even “Rock and Sole Plaice; and it should have formica work tops, huge plastic cellars of salt and vinegar, and a huge jar of pickled eggs on the side that no-one ever buys.  That’s what a fish and chip shop should be like, and they should be stuffed full of people at 6pm on a Friday getting their end of week treat.  When you’re a Viking landlocked in the City, though, you have to do things for yourself.  And, as it happens, it’s cheaper too.  So, this week:

The Viking Fishes and Chips: I Just Coley’d to say I Love You

Take yourself to the shops, or raid your cupboards, and find the following STUFF:

For the Fish:

1 x Fillet of Coley per (hungry) person (1 fillet halved will feed two, though)

50 grammes corn flour

75 grammes plain flour

5 grammes baking powder

1 bottle of cold ale

(This batter mix makes enough to coat 2-3 fillets of fish)

For the Spicy Chips:

Potatoes

Unsalted cashew nuts

Sesame seeds

Ground cumin

Mild chilli powder

Let’s cook!

Method:

1)      Sift corn flour, plain flour and baking powder in to a bowl

2)      Add the cold ale (as cold as possible) bit by bit until you have a smooth, thick batter

3)      Place in the fridge until ready to use

4)      Peel and chop potatoes in to chunky chips, setting aside in cold water

The tools of the trade...

5)      For this recipe, I have used my new favourite toy, the Tefal Actifry.  I was sceptical at first, but the proof is in the eating – this machine makes hot, crunchy chips and they’re good for you too.  If you don’t have one of these, follow the recipe I have used for chunky chips before and do them in the oven – making sure to coat evenly with seeds and spices.

6)      Drain the chips and pat dry, place in to the Actifry/Oven/cooker of choice, with a couple of spoonfuls of chilli powder and ground cumin, depending on your taste.  Throw in a handful of cashew nuts.

7)      Toast some sesame seeds in a dry pan, and add these to the Actifry as well

8)      Turn on, and cook for 35-40 minutes until golden brown

You could also use a deep fryer to make the chips – if you do, don’t put the sesame seeds, nuts and spices in there.  Once the chips are cooked, toss all of the ingredients together.

     9)      Now we’re ready to cook the fish.  Preheat a heavy-bottomed pan or wok that is half full of vegetable oil to about 180c (or, drop a small cube of bread in.  If it sizzles, you’re good to go)

10)   Remove batter from fridge and stir

11)   Coat each fillet of fish in plain flour, and then dunk in the batter, making sure the fillet is fully coated

12)   Carefully place in to the oil, being careful of your fingers

13)   Cook for about 4 minutes, until the batter has crisped up nicely and turned golden-brown in colour

14)   Remove fillet, and place on a kitchen towel to drain (although it won’t need much draining as you’ll be using clean, fresh oil)

15)   Serve, with a side of tomato ketchup, a slice of buttered white bread and a heap of zingy tartare sauce

16)   Eat!

That’s sixteen steps to heaven right there, and it isn’t faffy at all.  Home-made fish and chips, the perfect way to end your week!  The Coley is an outstanding fish to eat, tender, meaty and uncommonly good.  I should know, I’ve eaten loads of it now.  One thing that I should say is that if a piece of fish flakes under the slightest pressure from a fork, then it is cooked, and the flesh will also be pearly white in colour.  No worries!  If you don’t like the look of the fillets on display at the fishmonger, ask to see if they have any more so you can get the pick of the fillets.  Also, don’t be afraid to ask  them to skin and bone the fish for you – they’re the experts after all.

And so we come to the end of another chapter of my adventures in food.  I hope you have enjoyed it, and I’m looking forward to you sharing your experiences with this dish.  In the meantime, I shall leave you to a (hopefully) sunny and fun weekend, stuffed full of fish!

Viking

Well, Burger Me - The Viking Burgers

If you’ve ever read my Twitter feed, you might have noticed that I’m a big fan of a certain American presenter on the Food Channel.  He has a shock of bleached blonde hair, some classic cars and an attitude towards food that the Viking can really get behind.  That man is one Guy Fieri, and he does a programme called ‘Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives’ which, to be honest, makes me want to get on a plane to America and go eating every time I see it.

Sadly, funds at Viking Towers don’t stretch as far as a trip to the good ol’ US of A as often as once a week, so I am left to my own devices in my own kitchen, trying to recreate the things I have seen.  And oh, my friends, the things I have seen. 

“So what’s on the Menu this week?” I hear you ask.  Well, first there should be a little history lesson, don’t you think?  Last time, I talked about how no-one really knew who invented Toad-in-the-Hole (except for me, of course, and I shared that little secret with you).  This week’s dish, however, has had people fighting over it for generations.  A uniquely American piece of cuisine, it has been incredibly popular since the mid-1920’s.  It is, in its simplicity, approaching perfection.  Its rise to power has seen it eaten on every continent on earth.  Some providers of this manna from heaven are so well known that their corporate identity is seared in to the brains of billions of people (and they’re lovin’ it, or getting it their own way.  You got it?)

I am talking of the Cheese Hamburger, more commonly known as the Cheeseburger.  Or in my house at least, the “mmfvishishguuuurdpasstheketchupwouldyou?” burger.

What of the struggle for the honour of being recognised as the creator of the World’s most popular sandwich?  Well.  Lionel Sternberger supposedly invented the cheeseburger at the age of 16 by “experimentally dropping a slab of American cheese on a sizzling hamburger” at the Rite Spot in Pasadena, CA.  Or, if you don’t like that, perhaps you’ll back Kaelin’s Restaurant in Louisville, KY who say they invented the cheeseburger in 1934.  One year later, in 1935, the name ‘cheeseburger’ was trademarked by Louis Ballast of the brilliantly named Humpty Dumpty Drive-In in Denver, CO.

Me, I think I support Lionel Sternberger.  I like the youthful exuberance of daring to put cheese on beef.  I like the way the end of his surname almost matches his product.  It was fate; it was written in the stars that he should be The Chosen One.

So there I was, watching Triple-D (as those in the know call it), and I saw a man do something that I had never even considered possible.  A burger that was stuffed with cheese.  It was brilliant.  My jaw dropped.  I knew, then and there, that I had to have it.  I dashed, no; I sprinted to the shops, and came back with STUFF to make:

Well, Burger Me – The Viking Cheeseburgers

To make this, you will need:

- 500g Minced Beef

- One onion, chopped

- A tablespoon of ketcup

- A handful of Parsley

- A splash of Worcester sauce

- A couple of crushed cloves of garlic

- One egg yolk

- Mature Cheddar Cheese

And that is all you will need to make a juicy, flavoursome burger that will, I guarantee, knock that bloody sinister clown and his factory-farmed ‘burgers’ in to a cocked hat.  But what is a burger without onion rings?  Nothing, that’s what.  The problem with home-made onion rings is that they can be very fiddly, messy, and you run the risk of burning your face off in the boiling hot oil and that is really going to put a black mark on your weekend.  So here is my take on onion rings – oven baked, sweet, crunchy and very little mess.  You will need:

- One onion, sliced thickly, rings separated out

- Plain flour

- Paprika

- Salt

- Pepper

- 2 eggs, beaten

- Breadcrumbs (Panko breadcrumbs are the absolute best for this, but if you can’t get them normal ones will do just as well.  I used normal crumbs in these photos)

Sorted?  Excellent.  Let’s get burgering, shall we?

Method:

First, let’s make the patties, shall we?  In to a bowl, empty:

- Chopped onion

- Parsley

- Beef

- Ketchup

- Garlic

- Egg yolk

Bind together well using your hands.  Then, with damp hands, form patties to the desired size and thickness.  For this recipe, they need to be thinner than usual – unless you want stonking fat cheeseburgers – and let’s face it, who doesn’t?

Lay the patties on a tray in two rows.  In one row, form a small depression in each patty.  Fill with a generous amount of grated mature cheddar cheese (or another cheese – why not experiment!)

Then, lay the other patty on top of the other one, sandwich together, and pinch at the edges, forming a big, soft, meaty, cheesy round of burger happiness.  And you can quote me on that.  Put on to a plate, cover, and leave in the fridge for about an hour to firm up.

In the meantime, let’s make the onion rings.

Take three separate dishes.  In one, put a mixture of flour and paprika; in another, a couple of beaten eggs, and in the last, breadcrumbs.

With each ring on onion, first bathe it in flour, and then in egg.  Finally, dredge it through breadcrumbs until fully coated and place on a lightly oiled baking tray.  Repeat until you have enough onion rings to feed a small army.  Whack in to an oven at Gas 7/220c for about 10-15 minutes, until the breadcrumbs have turned a lovely golden colour.

And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the cooking of the burgers!  Heat a glug of olive oil in a skillet until it’s shimmering hot then place the burgers in.  Cook on a high heat for one minute on each side, then turn to a medium heat and then cook for a further 2-3 minutes on each side.

When cooked to your liking (I like it cooked through), rest for a couple of minutes while you toast a bun.  Serve with fat chips, and if you’re feeling decadent a slice of crispy bacon.  Spread the bun with good old fashioned ketchup and a squirt of Nuclear Yellow American Mustard, and eat.

Beware when you take the first bite out of the burger – the cheese inside will have melted in to a gooey, stringy, mess that will be hotter than the surface of the sun.  And yet, the mature cheddar flavours against the juicy meatiness of the burger will transport you to a place and time when burgers were still fun to eat – and not the plasticky, mass-produced, additive-filled monstrosities that most of us put up with today.  This recipe only takes a little while longer to make (and you can make your patties ahead of time and freeze them for extra ease), and is cheaper too.  So forget the SUPER MEGA TRIPLE HEART BYPASS DELUXE GO LARGE WITH THAT GIGANTOR EXPLOSION! meal, and head instead for your own kitchen, and rediscover an American Classic.

I’ll be back next week with more big flavours.  I hope to see you then.

Viking