Winter Skies, Kitchen Aglow

Although it is widely available throughout the year, as are most root vegetables, beetroot (beets) becomes most relied upon in my kitchen when it is winter. Its earthy sweetness and intense crimson flesh give warmth to frosty days. Beetroot bolsters the winter frame of mind and pairs particularly well with ingredients that tend to keep the cold away (especially ginger). Beetroot is surprisingly versatile and always, to my mind, an enchanting root vegetable to behold.

Beets have not always captivated me, though, and my previous aversion to them is relatively common. My revulsion stemmed from containers of sliced, pickled beetroot that were (and remain) a mainstay in my parents' refrigerator. I sampled them but once and practically gagged from the acidity of the flabby slices. I was put off for more than twenty years, avoiding any dish that came into contact with beets, even if they hadn't been pickled. Great cookery writers - Tamasin Day-Lewis, Diana Henry and Deborah Madison and their powers of description - convinced me that I had been too swift in maligning the spunky root vegetable.

For some, there is not an aversion to the taste of beets, but rather to the preparation of them. Beetroots contain pigments that stain (and for some people, hard to break down internally), and I have not come across a quick or convenient way to peel beets once they have been cooked. In my experience, it just seems best to handle beetroots as quickly as possible and to rinse one's hands often. There are two good tips to stop the colour running if you're roasting or steaming beets:
1) do not cut the stalks but 2.5cm (1") from the top of the root; and
2) do not cut the tail of the root.

The only time you may want the colour to run is when preparing soups. When roasting, wrap cleaned beets in aluminium foil and roast at 200 C (400 F) until softened, approximately 45 minutes. Unwrap foil, and when cool enough to handle, the beets are easy to be peeled, then sliced or grated as you prefer. It is best to add seasoning to beets when still warm, so that the flavours you wish to impart are absorbed by the beets.

Beetroot Tart

For the Shortcrust Pastry (for a 22-25cm (9-10") tart shell):

1 cup (and up to 1/3 cup extra, depending on humidity) flour, sifted
100g (3.5oz) unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
iced water

1) In a bowl, rub together the flour and butter with the tips of your fingers until a granular consistency is reached.
2) Slowly add iced water, one tablespoon at a time, until the mixture coheres into a ball. If it seems dry, you might need to add flour - you do not want it to be sticky. (If you prefer a golden tart, use one egg as the binder, and only add water if the mixture does not entirely come together.)
3) Once a ball has been formed, create a flat disc, and cover in cling-film. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes (you can leave it overnight)
4) Bring pastry out of the fridge and let rest at room temperature to become pliable (5-10 minutes if left in the fridge for 30 minutes).
5) Preheat oven to 200 C (400 F).
6) Put pastry on a lightly-floured surface. Roll it out with a floured rolling pin, turning the pastry after each pass of the rolling pin to ensure it doesn't stick to the surface. Roll it out so it can fit into a prepared (that is to say, buttered and floured) tart shell.
7) Allow to sit in tart shell in fridge for at least 15 minutes, and until you are ready to add the beetroot filling.

For the Beetroot Filling:

750g (1 1/2lb) grated beetroot (roasted, then peeled, as above)
1 tablespoon ginger, grated
2 teaspoons pomegranate molasses
salt
pepper
2 eggs, lightly beaten and lightly seasoned with salt and pepper
3/4 cup cream (or milk)

1) In a bowl, mix together the still warm grated beetroot, ginger, pomegranate molasses, and pinches of salt and pepper.
2) Beat eggs and cream together.
3) Pour egg mixture into

To Finish:

Shortcrust pastry, as above
Beetroot filling, as above

1) Preheat oven to 180 C (350 F).
2) Take pastry shell out of the fridge and pour beetroot filling into it.
3) Place on the middle rack in the oven and bake for 35-40 minutes.
4) Allow to cool for five minutes before releasing from tart ring.

I love the shot of rich colour, almost Elizabethan in its saturation. One cannot help but be drawn to it, forgetting the howling gales outside. The butteriness of the pastry rounds out the beetroot's earthiness. I have made this before with spices, such as caraway, but have found that they make the beetroot quite musty...Ginger, on the other hand, lifts the flavour profile entirely. This is a heady tart that provides something different when one is used to the same preparations for root vegetables over the leaner winter months.

I hope that this post convinces those with an aversion, however slight or great, to give beetroot another chance. If you need to be further convinced of the beetroot's versatility, see my friend Pille's blog, nami-nami.

Labels: Beetroot, Ginger, Tart, winter

Spring weather is notoriously unpredictable. The sun might have now inched its way closer to the southern hemisphere, but polar blasts are still bone-chillingly felt. It is in the first four weeks of spring that one continues to serve the soul-warming food of winter with touches of brightness. I love the bounty of produce that is available in between seasons. With great appreciation for challening identities and blurring borders, cooking at the threshold of a new season is exciting - it makes for interesting choices and shows the promise of the forth-coming season. Before crossing the threshold into the new season, one is also given the opportunity to cook the dishes one wanted to before it's too late...

And this is what brings me to today's post. Typically prepared at the beginning of autumn, when vinegrowers pick the most fragrant grape varietals, braised oxtail with grapes is a salt-of-the-earth dish that can be offered at any time there are decent seedless grapes available. The grapes make this a luxurious offering on the tongue, lapping up the fat rendered from braising the oxtail (the fat that could not be trimmed away for whatever reason).

An oxtail generally provides 7 joints - some larger than others. Oxtail joints are cheap and largely available from good butchers, who generally sell oxtails already jointed. Oxtail joints require slow, gentle cooking (as do many secondary grade cuts of meat) to release their best qualities. This makes for stress-free cooking, highlighted by the fact that this particular dish is best if made one day in advance.

The following dish serves 2-3.

Vinegrowers' Braised Oxtail

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 leek, chopped into 1cm/0.5" half-moon slices and thoroughly washed
1 shallot, finely chopped
2 carrots, chopped into 1cm/0.5" rounds
6 joints of oxtail
2-3 cloves
1 clove garlic, peeled and left whole
1/2 cup brandy
2 cups beef stock
salt
pepper
bouquet garni (aromatic herbs: parsley, thyme, bay leaf tied together)
450g/1lb seedless grapes (you can remove all from the woody stems, leave them in clusters, or prepare a combination of the two, as I have)

1) Preheat oven to 140 C/285 F.
2) In a dutch oven, heat olive oil over low heat and add the leek, shallot and carrots. Fry gently until softened but not coloured, approximately 5 minutes.
3) Raise heat and brown joints of oxtail until they are bronze all over.
4) Add cloves and garlic. Heat through for one minute.
5) Add brandy and cook out the alcohol.
6) Add beef stock and salt and pepper. Stir.
7) Add bouquet garni and grapes, then cover tightly with greaseproof/baking paper.
8) Put on the lid of the dutch oven and place dish in the oven.
9) Cook for two hours, stirring at the one hour mark.
10) Allow to cool, then place in the fridge over night.
11) Next day: Remove the fat that has solidified on top and heat the braised oxtail dish through over a medium-low heat. Check for seasoning before serving.


Even though the colour is largely drained from the red grapes, creating a blushed effect, the flavours are big, uncomplicated and deeply-satisfying. Restrain from loading the plate up with too many grapes or each mouthful will be too sweet. As you can see, I have spiked the oxtail joints with gremolata, a herb condiment of parlsey, garlic and lemon zest, to lift the autumnal and wintry depths of the dish into springtime. Traditionally, potatoes boiled in their skins or a potato purée accompany this dish. I would heighten a purée with a touch of horseradish, further attaching Vinegrowers' Braised Oxtail to the new season.

Labels: Autumn, braise, French, grapes, oxtail, winter