The twenty-first of July – nearly four months ago – was the last time I updated this here blog. “What have you been doing, Viking?” I hear some of you ask. “Have you been discovering new continents? Have you, perhaps, been working on things what no man should wot of? Perchance you’ve been working hard in the kitchen, developing a superb new range of ready meals for a leading supermarket brand and then filming a ridiculously elaborate Christmas commercial complete with snow, jingling bells and mulled wine?”
Sadly, no is the answer to all of those questions my friends. And, being as it’s now November I doubt that Waitrose will have time to sign me up and get an advert filmed in time for Christmas. Besides, they seem to have gone with successful and recognisable and talented people in their advertising campaign, so I suppose a lack of Vikings is eminently understandable. Well played, Heston and Delia, well played.
So yes, I’ve been away, and in the time I’ve been gone I’ve done a long bike ride for Charity (during which we raised well over three thousand pounds), I’ve bought a house, the house has been delayed, I got a slot on the marathon for next year and I have, generally, been working like a mad thing. And now I’m back, from out of space, you just logged in to find me here with this sad look upon my face. I hope, with the remainder of this entry, to entice you back in to the world of Food and Vikings and Food Vikings.
We’re in the time of year now where the nights are drawing in. We’re getting up to go to work in the dark and we’re coming home in the dark. Train companies are coming up with ever more elaborate excuses as to why the trains are being delayed. Jingling Bells accompany every trip to the supermarket despite the fact that most of us can still see the whizz bang flashes of fireworks on the back of our eyelids. The trees, at least, are still sporting a fabulous array of golden colours – but it won’t be long before they dump their leafy cargo on to the pavement reminding us all of how quickly decay comes to all. No wonder most people seem to suffer from SAD. It’s too far away from summer and it’s too far away from Christmas. This, dear friends, is limbo season.
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| Yeah, that's not quite what I meant... |
There’s only one way to fix your case of the blues. What you need is gravy. And heat. And big lumps of meat. And buttery mash. It needs to be cooked long and slow, so that when you come home from work your house smells like a big, velvety cuddle from Nigella Herself. So, I present to you:
The Viking Stews: Beef and Chorizo Stew with Chunky Root Veg & Dumplings
At this time of year, as Stevie Wonder might have once said, there ain’t nothin’ better than a stew. Hie thyself to supermarket quick-smart, and fetch yourself the following groceries:
For the Stew:
- Diced stewing beef (preferably from the shin, the butcher will be able to do this for you)
- Chorizo (I cheated and bought ready chopped Chorizo from Waitrose)
- Beef Stock
- Tomato Puree
- Plain Flour
- One large onion
- 2 or 3 large parsnips
- 2 or 3 large carrots
- A large leek
- Smoked parika
- Cayenne pepper
- Bay leaves
- Salt
- Pepper
- Potatoes (for mash)
- Milk
- Butter
For the Dumplings:
- 1 packet Atora Suet
- Self raising flour
- The ability to follow instructions
Got all that? Good. Let’s get cookin’.
Method:
- First, toss your hunks of cow in a little plain flour
- Then, brown in a hot pan. Do this in batches so as not to overload the pan and to ensure an even, brown colour
- Set the beef aside
- Now, fry off the onions and chorizo
- Once the chorizo starts releasing its juice, add the rest of the veg. The veg should be chopped in to nice, big, hearty chunks
- Cook for around 10 minutes on a medium heat, or until browned and all the veg has a good colouring from the heat and chorizo
- Add the beef back to the pan
- Pour in the stock so the meat and vegetables are just covered
- Bring this to the boil, and then reduce to a simmer
- Add a couple of tablespoons of tomato puree, a great big slug of Worcester sauce, about a teaspoon of smoked paprika, a dash of cayenne pepper, and stir
- Add a few bay leaves
- Add a pinch of salt and pepper
- There’s no more to do!
Once you’ve done all this, and the stew is blipping away on the stove, you have a couple of options. You can either chuck it in the oven on a super low heat for a few hours or you can just leave it where it is. I vote for leaving it where it is. Just imagine if you’d got all comfy on your favourite chair, only to have a giant bully come along and shift you on to a large bean bag for no reason. You’d feel cheated, wouldn’t you? I mean, the bean bag is OK and everything, but it’s not your chair. Well, that’s how your stew would feel. So, leave it there on the stove on a nice low flame so the occasional bubble pops on the surface, and leave it for as long as you can – but I’d say a minimum of an hour and a half. Ideally about 3 hours – or until the veg is soft, the meat falls apart at the touch and the gravy is good and thick.
In the meantime, get your suet out of the cupboard and follow the instructions. It’s disarmingly easy to make dumplings – all you need is self raising flour, cold water and suet. My top tip is to make sure your hands are damp when handling the dough, that way it doesn’t stick to your hands when you’re shaping your dumplings. Make sure your dumplings are nice and big – about the size of a golf ball – because no-one likes a small dumpling. Set them aside, ideally in the fridge, and add to the stew pot about 15-20 minutes before you’re ready to serve.
These little clouds of joy will fluff right up and will be a great little gravy mop. Honestly, sometimes I make stew just as an excuse to have dumplings, the gorgeous little beasts.
In the meantime, make yourself a buttery mash (we’ve covered that before) and when all of this has come together, serve! Take great, beefy ladles of stew and top with fluffy dumplings. Set this down next to a mountain of mashed potato. Serve with a dark, syrupy real ale, or a glass of peppery red wine.
OK, so this won’t make you healthy – but this is a Sunday evening treat for the winter. And boy, does it warm the cockles as you eat it, it’s like stew has this way of communing with your inner caveman. “Meat!” it screams, “Meat and gravy! Man make fire! Man eat meat!”
And then, you can have a well-deserved nap.
See you anon, folks, with more cooking adventures.
Til then,
Viking
