Happy New Year! By now I should have made a few changes to Experimental Jifflings – I felt a bit of reformatting was in order to brighten things up a little. I’ve a vague New Year’s resolution to change the content a bit, by including more recipes as well as the usual ranting. Hopefully readers will enjoy some of the recipes as much as I have, and will maybe send feedback, or ideas for new things. It would be great for people to send me their favourite recipes so I can have a go and maybe publish them on the blog.
Anyhow – to catch up a little – Christmas came and went with the usual levels of overindulgence. Christmas Day was spent at the Ship and Shovel restaurant (a name easily satirised as I’m sure you can imagine) in Sleaford, Lincolnshire. I managed to dodge around the turkey options and ended up enjoying a juicy bit of pork. I’ve some admiration for the food in Lincolnshire – if you stay with British meat and two veg you’re generally in for a treat. Everyone was pretty satisfied in any case, and it was Christmas, so I won’t be a picky bugger (smoked salmon under heat lamps, packet salad, rubbery cheese, bah humbug etc).
We also managed to get through a goose while in Anglesey, which was a nice treat. Our starter of Langoustines really got me going though. Dad has managed to find some in Aldi, or Lidl, or one of those weird shops where you have to go on the right day to get the good stuff. The Scottish fishing industry depends heavily on langoustines, but sadly they are mostly exported to France, Spain and Italy, where they are prized and are a feature of many a menu. You rarely see them here, although the fishmongers at the Arndale market used to have them now and again.
They take no time at all to cook, in butter, garlic, and a bit of white wine and a squeeze of lemon. We tucked in at the table and enjoyed the ripping and rendering to get at the lovely sweet flesh inside. Chunks of crusty white bread mopped up the juices, followed by satisfied smacking sounds as we sucked our fingers clean.
Rewinding a little, Mrs Jiffler arrived back from Senegal on Christmas eve. With no plans to travel until Christmas morning, I spent a good chunk of the day preparing a very British supper of rabbit in cider. The smell that filled the kitchen while it was cooking immediately took me back to childhood winter visits to my Uncle Harry in Wigan, with my parents trying to fob me and my sister off that we were eating chicken. Likely story.
A recipe for Rabbit and Cider Casserole
Ingredients:
As always, quantities are approximate, and a zen approach to measurements should be adopted.
A rabbit, jointed with the bones left in (get the butcher to do this). About 1 kg in weight.
A bottle of cider (about 400 ml) – I used Bulmers as it was on offer.
A handful of shallots, sliced.
4 bay leaves
Some plain flour
Groundnut oil
A couple of parsnips
A couple of carrots
Two tablespoons of wholegrain mustard (Colman’s of course)
Salt and pepper.
Start off by cleaning the rabbit. A rinse under the tap should see off any excess bits of blood etc.
Place the rabbit in a bowl and add the cider, mustard, onions and bay leaves. Top up with water if required. (At this point I decided to resist the temptation to throw in some dry chorizo that was in the fridge – I decided to stay British, but you could easily take this in a more Mediterranean direction). Cover and leave overnight in the fridge.
Remove the rabbit joint, pat dry and toss in a little seasoned flour. Heat the oil in a frying pan and brown the joints. Pop the joints into a casserole dish with another large pinch of flour, add the chopped carrots and parsnips, and the marinade, then bring up to the boil on the hob.
Cover the casserole and bake for about an hour at 180. Season to taste and serve with mash and beer or cider.
Anyhow – to catch up a little – Christmas came and went with the usual levels of overindulgence. Christmas Day was spent at the Ship and Shovel restaurant (a name easily satirised as I’m sure you can imagine) in Sleaford, Lincolnshire. I managed to dodge around the turkey options and ended up enjoying a juicy bit of pork. I’ve some admiration for the food in Lincolnshire – if you stay with British meat and two veg you’re generally in for a treat. Everyone was pretty satisfied in any case, and it was Christmas, so I won’t be a picky bugger (smoked salmon under heat lamps, packet salad, rubbery cheese, bah humbug etc).
We also managed to get through a goose while in Anglesey, which was a nice treat. Our starter of Langoustines really got me going though. Dad has managed to find some in Aldi, or Lidl, or one of those weird shops where you have to go on the right day to get the good stuff. The Scottish fishing industry depends heavily on langoustines, but sadly they are mostly exported to France, Spain and Italy, where they are prized and are a feature of many a menu. You rarely see them here, although the fishmongers at the Arndale market used to have them now and again.
They take no time at all to cook, in butter, garlic, and a bit of white wine and a squeeze of lemon. We tucked in at the table and enjoyed the ripping and rendering to get at the lovely sweet flesh inside. Chunks of crusty white bread mopped up the juices, followed by satisfied smacking sounds as we sucked our fingers clean.
Rewinding a little, Mrs Jiffler arrived back from Senegal on Christmas eve. With no plans to travel until Christmas morning, I spent a good chunk of the day preparing a very British supper of rabbit in cider. The smell that filled the kitchen while it was cooking immediately took me back to childhood winter visits to my Uncle Harry in Wigan, with my parents trying to fob me and my sister off that we were eating chicken. Likely story.
A recipe for Rabbit and Cider Casserole
Ingredients:
As always, quantities are approximate, and a zen approach to measurements should be adopted.
A rabbit, jointed with the bones left in (get the butcher to do this). About 1 kg in weight.
A bottle of cider (about 400 ml) – I used Bulmers as it was on offer.
A handful of shallots, sliced.
4 bay leaves
Some plain flour
Groundnut oil
A couple of parsnips
A couple of carrots
Two tablespoons of wholegrain mustard (Colman’s of course)
Salt and pepper.
Start off by cleaning the rabbit. A rinse under the tap should see off any excess bits of blood etc.
Place the rabbit in a bowl and add the cider, mustard, onions and bay leaves. Top up with water if required. (At this point I decided to resist the temptation to throw in some dry chorizo that was in the fridge – I decided to stay British, but you could easily take this in a more Mediterranean direction). Cover and leave overnight in the fridge.
Remove the rabbit joint, pat dry and toss in a little seasoned flour. Heat the oil in a frying pan and brown the joints. Pop the joints into a casserole dish with another large pinch of flour, add the chopped carrots and parsnips, and the marinade, then bring up to the boil on the hob.
Cover the casserole and bake for about an hour at 180. Season to taste and serve with mash and beer or cider.
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