Jerusalem artichoke and nettle gratin
Taken from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s River Cottage Everyday (a great Christmas present from some thoughtful parents) this recipe seemed apt after—in true River Cottage style—we had got our hands upon some locally-grown Jerusalem artichokes, picked three days before from an allotment in Leamington Spa. Though, being few in number the artichokes were supplemented with potatoes sliced and cut in the same way. Also in this vein the walnuts taken from a tree in one of our gardens while the rest of the ingredients were taken from the Co-op next door. If we seem smug then that’s because, to be honest, it’s great. So here it is taken verbatim from Everyday (publication laws probably flaunted):
“Heat the oil and butter in a frying pan, add the onions and garlic and cook gently until soft and starting to take on a little colour. [Colour meaning brown.] Add the artichokes and thyme, [We only had dried sadly.] then season well with salt and pepper. Cook, tossing occasionally, for 5 minutes.
Pour over cream and water or stock and simmer gently until the liquid has reduced by half. [This took a surprisingly long time—around twenty minutes.] Stir in the nettles or spinach, then transfer everything to a greased gratin dish, levelling out as you go. [We did the whole thing in a large Le Creuset so no transfer was need—this seemed to work out fine.]
Mix all the topping ingredients together. Sprinkle over the artichoke mixture and bake in an oven preheated to 190°C/ Gas Mark 5 for 25-30 minutes, until golden and bubbling.
Serves 4:
1 tablespoon sunflower oil
A knob of butter
2 onions, finely sliced
3 garlic cloves, sliced
500g
1 teaspoon chopped thyme
200ml double cream
100ml vegetable stock or water
100g fresh nettle tops or spinach roughly chopped
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
For the topping:
A handful of porridge oats
3 thick slices of stale bread, torn into little pieces
½ handful of walnuts, toasted, bashed, skinned into rough pieces [We didn’t have a nutcracker and our attempts to crack the walnuts on each other really quite hurt our palms so a hammer was employed. With effective results.]
25g butter, melted
30g Cheddar cheese, grated”
A pleasantly filling meal that adequately did the trick for 4 Mansion-dwellers as a main course. The topping worked to give some crunch to the softer base which led to the description of the dish as a “savoury crumble” by the diners. The dauphinoise-equse roots took up the creamy texture of the sauce in which they stewed, however some potatoes seemed to be noticeably harder than others. Whether we needed to stir more when the sauce was reducing to ensure they were covered we’re not sure—but this really is nit-picking in retrospect. It's all a pretty cheap dish and taking into account the substitutions should be readily available to everyone.
[Oh, also an interesting anecdote came up during conversation: did you know that seaweed in Chinese restaurants is more often than not just salted cabbage? What a fucking jip.]
We’ll be continuing this focus on our culinary practices in the future. Watch this space to expand your digestive horizons as we do the same.
