DEVILLED EGGS WITH PEAS

What is art? If you told me ten years ago that I’d be exploring that question and expressing myself through a hen’s egg I would have told you that you were out of your f**king mind, but here I am, talking about eggs, thinking about art! There are so many ways I can go about this. I can fixate on the endless versatility of eggs in traditional and novel cuisine. I can talk about the nutritional complexity of eggs and the fact that they themselves account for much of the daily sustenance of humanity. I can attempt to explain their endless physical and chemical qualities which allow them to be used for a full spectrum of culinary purposes, from gels to foams. I can try to offer insight into my personal connection to deviled eggs, being a staple of sorts on the unchanging appetizer boards back in my home country. I can endlessly comment on the amazing egg experiences I have had in restaurants in a few countries. To do any of those things though would not do justice to my real reason for putting this dish together. I wanted to plate something so elegantly simple in a provocative way. I challenged myself to take a simple dish and to amplify the visual stimulation. Immediately I can tell you that responses have been different. Some people expressed excitement at artistry while others simply saw an unclean plate. In the end though, I suppose that’s the thing about creativity and more to the point, artistry, it is not meant to provoke uniformed consensus, but rather, provoke dialogue in the first place. It is meant to be different things to different people. It is meant to be different things at different times. It is meant to tell something about the person that put it together. You know them a little better. The humble egg has allowed me to express myself in this way. Who would have thought?

INGREDIENTS (serves 4):

·         6 eggs

·         3 tbsp mayonnaise

·         1 tsp champagne vinegar

·         1 tbsp milk

·         1 tsp Dijon mustard

·         Sea salt

·         100 g green peas

·         Pea or other shoots

·         6 strips smoked bacon

-          Preheat oven to 175 °C

-          Place the bacon onto a lightly greased baking rack that is itself over a backing tray lined with foil to act as a catch for bacon grease

-          Put the bacon into the oven for about 10 minutes until cooked

-          Allow the bacon to cool and cut each strip in half and reserve

-          Meanwhile place the peas into a pan of salted boiling water at just over medium heat for about 2 minutes

-          Reserve a few of the peas and purée the rest until smooth, passing through a sieve if necessary

-          Submerge the eggs in a pan of cold water then bring the water to the boil

-          Boil for about 8 minutes after the water starts to boil after which remove the eggs from the water and place into a waiting bowl of ice water

-          Peel the eggs carefully to avoid bruising the whites

-          With a clean life slice each egg in half along the longer axis

-          Using a small spoon remove the yolks from the eggs, reserving the whites

-          Use a potato ricer or a food processor to combine the egg yolks with the mayonnaise, mustard, vinegar, and milk

-          Season the yolks with salt to taste

-          Fill a piping bag with the desired nozzle with the yolk mixture

-          To serve first use a pastry brush to paint a white serving plate with the pea purée, using straight line strokes

-          On a clean surface, pipe each egg white with enough of the yolk mixture to slightly rise above the surface

-          Carefully place a straight bacon piece into each deviled egg and neatly place the eggs onto the serving plate painted with the pea puree

-          Scatter a few of the shoots and reserved peas on each egg and around the plate

GOLDEN HADDOCK WITH ROASTED ENDIVES AND BABY BLUE CARROTS

I've found myself especially drawn to art forms beyond the plate in the last few weeks. I spend nights wondering how skilled photographers are so adept at capturing emotion or encapsulating moments in time, or how fashion designers can convey aggression or expression through the colors and intricacies of their clothes, or how architects can express nobility or even conjure nostalgia for a time gone by. While the argument can be made that the material manifestation of those art forms is static, their influence is anything but static. Art, to me, is transient and dynamic in its impact and its relevance, meaning different things at different times and impacting everyone in a different way. This dynamism is encouraging; every day I feel fortunate to be surrounded by the beauty of humanity. I get a little excited about the potential for new experience around me often created by the artists of my time.

René Redzepi, of the Noma restaurant in Coepenhagen, is such an artist. Through his exploration of Nordic cuisine with the new, yet old, lens of foraging and true reliance on the environment around him, he has been able to captivate the culinary world. Anyone who is paying attention has had their life enriched by doing so. René’s expression of self, the unrelenting fearlessness in his food, was the catalyst for this simple dish. His inspiration urged me to challenge myself to put as few elements as possible on the plate, elegantly and harmoniously. No frills, just four things on a plate. Thank you René.

INGREDIENTS (serves 4):

·         4 fillets haddock

·         100g butter

·         3 endives

·         12 baby blue carrots

·         180g watercress leaves

·         6g mustard

·         15g apple balsamic vinegar

·         30g water

·         110g grapeseed oil

·         Olive oil

·         Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

-          Preheat oven to 400 °F

-          Brown the butter in a medium pan and strain and reserve the browned butter

-          Using a vegetable peeler take a few slices of one endive and reserve in ice water for garnish

-          Slice the remaining endives into quarters and season with salt and pepper

-          Placed the endive quarters onto a roasting sheet and season with salt and pepper and drizzle over some olive oil

-          Roast the endives in the prepared oven for 20 to 25 minutes

-          Prepare the watercress oil by placing the leaves, mustard, balsamic vinegar, and water in a blender and blending until liquefied

-          Emulsify the oil in the blended mixture and strain the watercress oil into a bowl

-          Keep cool until ready to serve

-          Season the carrots with salt and pepper and sauté in a pan with 2 tbsp olive oil at medium heat for two minutes before turning the heat down and allowing the carrots to slowly cook for the next 15 to 20 minutes or until cooked through

-          Prepare a second pan with 2 tbsp olive oil at medium heat

-          Pat dry and season the haddock fillets with salt and pepper

-          Place the fillets thick side down and fry for about 1 minute before add some of the browned butter to the pan

-          Continue to cook the haddock on the same side for about 1 more minute until cooked almost ¾ of the way through before flipping to the thinner side

-          Cook for a further minute or until cooked through, basting the fish with the oil and butter from the pan as it cooks

-          Remove from the pan and onto a dry plate or surface

-          Finish the carrots by adding a little browned butter into the pan and ensuring each carrot is blistered by the butter

-          Remove the carrots from the pan and place onto a dry plate or surface

-          Remove the endives from the oven and drizzle over the remaining brown butter

-          Plate by first using a pastry or other brush to create a smear

-          Place 2 endive quarters and 3 carrots to the non-smeared side of the plate

-          Place the fish fillets into the middle of the watercress smear

-          Place a few of the endive slices and watercress onto the fish

-          Drizzle over a little olive oil to finish the dish

MY CHICKEN SANDWICH WITH HONEY SRIRACHA

Would it be going too far to suggest that fried chicken was the first love of my life? Perhaps, but I can’t deny that I absolutely adored fried chicken and the very different variations that I got both in the local restaurants and at home. I loved them all. Although, I do remember the day Kentucky Fried Chicken came to Guyana, the fried chicken mother ship. In all my chubby glory I remember being really excited to finally taste that glistening fried chicken I had been salivating for on the advertisements for such a painfully long time. That’s the thing about living in a third world country in those days, and I suppose it still holds true now; you get a whole ton of foreign influence from television. In Guyana, we saw American shows and were exposed to American advertisements. The guy on the moped with the KFC bucket of fried chicken on the back looked extremely happy. There must have been something special about that chicken. The first Kentucky Fried Chicken was eventually opened adjacent to the busiest market and Bus Park in the country. The lines went around the corner in the blistering sun. Looking back now I wonder why my mother gave into my demands to endure that torture just for some fried chicken. That’s the other thing about parents in small and poor countries and households; they want their kids to have everything any other child is having. It was surely a testament to her dedication as a mother as much as it was me longing for something I deemed to be better.

My eyes peering over the new counter at the promise to come, my mother got me a bucket of hot wings of all things, not the greatest choice when one is facing blistering equatorial heat. Who cares? I got my chicken and that’s all that mattered. Life was as good as it got. We got on a minibus together, the shared public transportation of choice at the time, but in my eagerness I made sure that only half of that bucket made it home. The truth is, the wings weren’t fantastic, I could barely taste anything but the hot sauce, but in my mind I was still getting something better. I had to learn to love it to be better. Even if I didn’t think it was better, it had to be, didn’t it? It’s funny how that works. That which was guilty of as I child I get frustrated with as an adult. I hate the glorification of foreign product and have since realized how fortunate I was to live in a country at a time when almost everything you ate was made at home. Furthermore, I have a certain distaste for the term “fancy” and the eagerness with which my fellow countrymen seem to share the untruthful idea that good food needs to be “fancy”. In countries such as Guyana “foreign” often equated to “fancy”. Good food is good food, period. Food can create an experience, period. I am not implying that the setting is inconsequential, but merely that “fancy” does not equate to better. My fondness for fried chicken never went away, and in a way stands as testament of that fact. What is such a simple sandwich is texturally and flavorfully fulfilling and serves as a reminder to never forget where you came from, never forget the loves of your life as in the end, they need not be fancy to be damned amazing.

INGREDIENTS (serves 4):

·         2 chicken breasts, halved lengthwise

·         1/3 cup instant oatmeal

·         1/3 cup breadcrumbs

·         ½ teaspoon chilli powder

·         ¾ cup milk

·         2 whole eggs

·         1/3 cup flour, seasoned with salt and pepper

·         4 poppy seed twist or other fresh bun

·         Butter

·         Handful pea shoots or other micro leaf

·         Peanut oil, enough to shallow fry

·         1/4 cup sriracha

·         1/3 cup honey

·         Juice of half a lemon

·         Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

-          Pat dry and season the chicken with salt and pepper

-          Preheat oven to 180 °C

-          Roll the chicken in the seasoned flour and dust off any excess

-          Mix the milk with the eggs and pass the chicken through this mixture quickly so as to not wash off the seasoning

-          Roll the chicken onto a plate or bowl that has a mixture of the instant oatmeal, breadcrumbs, chilli powder, and ½ teaspoon Kosher salt

-          Heat peanut oil in a non-stick pan to medium heat until first sign of smoking

-          Lay the chicken breasts in the pan and brown on each side, approximately 1 ½ minutes each side

-          Remove from the pan and place the breasts onto a lightly greased pan into the preheated oven

-          Leave for approximately 18 minutes but be mindful of cooking time depending on the size of your chicken breasts

-          Make the sauce by combining the sriracha, honey, and lemon juice in a pan at the lowest heat setting on the stove top

-          5 minutes before your finished chicken breasts are ready, halve and lightly toast each bun and butter their top sides

-          Place the bottom of each bun onto a plate and after removing and resting chicken for about 2 minutes place them on top of each bun

-          Pour over equal amounts of honey sriracha onto each chicken breast and place pea shoots on top

-          For an extra boost in visual appeal sprinkle a few poppy seeds around the bun on the empty areas of each plate

-          Cover with top bun and serve immediately

MY VERSION OF APRIL BLOOMFIELD'S LAMB MEATBALLS

Of this I am not ashamed; I was recently irreversibly transformed to become a fanatical fan of that most wonderful of cities, New York. In which other city can you completely unintentionally happen upon your first Michelin starred restaurant armed with only the intention to grab a bit of lunch somewhere inviting? Walking each Manhattan street offered up a pleasurable assault on the senses. I was swept away by the palpable charm of the history under my feet. My passion for this city now burns deep and seldom is the day I don’t fondly think of my time there or yearn for my next New York adventure. April Bloomfield was a huge part of sparking those emotions. I went to one of her three restaurants, The Breslin gastropub in the Ace Hotel, and came away wondering how something so charmingly familiar could pack so much impact. Scotch egg? No expectations. Mind blowing. Blood sausage with fried duck egg and creamy tarragon dressing? Interesting. Way more than interesting, eye opening. Chargrilled lamb burgers whisking about the dining room. Butter oxtail and beef tongue, guinea hen, roasted duck, razor clams, merguez salad, burrata etc etc etc. I can’t wait to go back. I fell in love with this woman, her food, and the city where i found it. Forget love at first sight, it was love at first bite.

Fast forward a few months and I’m home in Toronto, feverishly pouring over her book, A Girl and Her Pig. Her food is honest, and impeccable. She considers every detail. Be not fooled, it might be rustic, but it is certainly not clumsy or fuss free. For instance, her attention to detail convinces her to slice carrots for stews that certain way so as to maximise the carrot’s contribution to the depth of that stew. She is a woman with passion and although my culinary expression differs from her, I stand in awe of her brilliance. In my examination of the book, I come across a recipe for lamb meatballs that is influenced by African flavor, and it encourages me to play with the idea. Make no mistake; this recipe is heavily rooted in April Bloomfield’s genius.

I decided to shift the flavor profile away from the wonderful earthiness towards something lighter. Using both the more traditional Italian buffalo mozzarella and dill provides a clean finish to the dish. Soaking the meatballs in milk adequately provides a moisture defense in the meatball. The minted yoghurt and the rosemary-mint sauce also brings it all together, by balancing the fire of the harissa, not to mention that the minted olive oil delicately encourages that same balance. These were all departures from Bloomfield’s recipe to lighten and refresh the dish. 

Most important to me though, although April Bloomfield probably will never know it, she kept a light burning in me at a time when I really needed it. She rekindled memories of a city I fell in love with. She inspired me to remain focused on my love for food even when life got overwhelming. She reminded me of the power of passion. For this I am eternally grateful, and I have fantastic meatballs to show for it. After all, what is a meatball without passion?

INGREDIENTS (serves 4):

·         2 lb lamb mince, peeled and cut into rings

·         2 tbsp kosher salt, or to taste

·         3/4 cup fine bread crumbs, soaked in milk

·         Handful dill, chopped

·         Seasoned flour

·         3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

·         3 garlic cloves, peeled sliced

·         1 large onion, finely chopped

·         2 tsp cumin

·         1 tbsp harissa paste

·         1 28-ounce can peeled whole tomatoes, drained and roughly chopped

·         3 cups water

·         ½ cup yoghurt

·         Salt and black pepper

·         Handful of mint leaves, chopped, leaving a few leaves intact to finish and the stem to flavour the olive oil

·         100 g fresh buffalo mozzarella

·         3 sprigs rosemary

-          Remove leaves from a mint stem and place the stem in a little olive oil, reserving the leaves to be used later

-          Make the meatballs by combining the lamb with the breadcrumbs, salt and pepper, chopped dill, and 1 tsp of cumin and rolling them to golf ball size with lightly floured hands

-          Roll the meatballs in the seasoned flour and place in the freezer for about 1 hour to firm up

-          Remove from the freezer and cook the meatballs in sauté pan with the oil at medium heat until browned

-          Remove the meatballs from pan and place onto a plate

-          Refresh the pan with oil and sauté the onions, garlic, cumin until the onions go translucent and add the harissa paste for about 1 minute

-          Add the tomatoes and rosemary and turn the heat to low, simmer until the tomatoes begin to stick to the pan 

-          Add the water to the pan and stir, add the meatballs and gently simmer for 30 minutes to allow the flavours to come together

-          Meanwhile create the rosemary-mint salt by extremely finely chopping a few mint leaves with the needles of one rosemary sprig and combining with about 1 tsp kosher salt

-          Chop a few mint leaves and mix with the yoghurt

-          After 30 minutes has passed, after tasting and adjusting seasoning of the sauce, slice the mozzarella and place onto the lightly simmering meatballs

-          Sprinkle a little rosemary-mint salt over each of the mozzarella rounds

-          Distribute dollops of yoghurt over the dish

-          Finish the dish with a few mint leaves and a sprinkling the minted-olive oil