Potato Terrine

I’d heard of terrines, of course, compressed dishes of fish or meat, usually served cold and an apparent staple of French cuisine but I don’t remember ever having one. Recently, however, I visited a new, for me, restaurant down on the river between the two traffic bridges.  More of a place to sit and enjoy a drink I felt, while watching life on the river flow past, as the menu was a bit limited and portions were small – more tapas sized than a main meal. I ordered the pulled lamb with the potato terrine and while the lamb was tender and tasty, I was blown away by the slice of potato terrine – a rectangle the same size and thickness of my middle and index fingers together. I have never had anything like it before – it was gorgeous. Ever so slightly crisp on the edges, the slice of terrine with its layers of thinly sliced potato cooked in some type of creamy sauce was an absolute winner. So here is my third attempt at mastering this dish – my first try was adequate, my second one fell apart (I didn’t overlap the layers of potato sufficiently) – I’ve learned from my mistakes – and this, my third attempt, has made up for past errors but can still be improved upon the next time, while adding my own little twist.

IMG_4466Here’s what I had –

a kilo of russet potatoes, washed but not peeled

250 ml cream

salt and pepper

butter

a fresh rosemary sprigs, leaves picked

3 large cloves of garlic, minced

100g Serrano ham

a rectangular oven dish or a loaf tin

grease-proof paper

tin foil

Preheat oven to 180ºC. Place cream, minced garlic, salt and pepper and the chopped rosemary leaves in a small bowl and stir.IMG_4467

IMG_4474Scrub the potatoes, and use a mandolin, if you have one, to slice the potatoes finely. Use a knife if you have to. I used an old late 1960’s Moulinex food processor, liberated from my mother’s kitchen back in the eighties, to cut almost a kilo of spuds into almost transparent slices and quickly dropped them into the cream mixture.

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Very lightly butter your dish or loaf tin. I use a low rectangular glass dish. If you use a loaf tin, only fill it about halfway, unless you want loaf size slices of the terrine. Then line whatever you are using with grease-proof paper leaving considerable overhang on each side. You’ll eventually fold the paper sides over the top of the dish.

Build up the terrine in layers by taking slice after slice of potato and placing them into the dish. Spoon over the creamy stuff as you go but don’t drown it. Lay every slice down in the same shape and direction. Allow for overlaps and after every second or third layer, I put in two paper-thin slices of Serrano ham.IMG_4476 A few tabs of butter here and there among the layers will later contribute to the firmness. Another few layers of potato and another two slices of the Serrano and so on until the dish is filled to the top. I used all but two of the kilo I started with and six slices of the ham.

Wrap the overhanging greaseproof over the top, then cover the top of the dish with foil. Bake for at least 90 minutes or longer. When you can easily poke a skewer, not through the tinfoil and greaseproof paper, but through the actual terrine itself, you know it is done to perfection.

Cover up again, remove from the oven and allow to cool for about 15 minutes.

Now, weigh down the dish, still wrapped in the greaseproof paper, until you can put the dish, weights and all, in the fridge for at least an hour – preferably over night! The more you wait and weigh it, the more solid it becomes! House bricks are ideal, if you have a few clean ones handy. Otherwise, use whatever you have, tins of beans, bags of rice, barbells, whatever.

IMG_4483Remove from the fridge and bring to room temperature for around 15 minutes. Carefully remove from the dish, unwrapping the paper and unveil a solid block. Tidy it up the sides if necessary, revealing one perfect rectangle, layers exposed.

Heat a pan, and add in any fresh herb – thyme, marjoram whatever – and a crushed garlic clove to the pan for extra flavour. Then cut rectangular slices of terrine and slide them into the pan. IMG_4485Cut side, flat side down? Up to you! Fry gently for about a minute a side as it can burn easily!

Place the finished slices on some kitchen paper to absorb any oil and sprinkle with cracked black pepper, a pinch of coarse sea salt. Super as breakfast with a poached or fried egg. Use it as an accompaniment to any meal, hot or cold.  A dab of chutney or a smear of chilli jam, hmmm, a spoonful of sauerkraut?IMG_4489

Quiche (Lorraine?)

I haven’t had a quiche for literally decades – one of my friend’s girlfriends used to make delicious ones – so on a whim I bought a smoked salmon quiche at a trendy and fashionable market recently. God, it was worse than awful in that it put my wife – who had never had a quiche before – right off the whole idea of the dish, when I suggested making one for the weekend.

I decided to do it from scratch, making my own pastry and only adding cheese and a few shallots to the traditional Quiche Lorraine which is made only with bacon, eggs and cream/crème fraiche.IMG_2784

This was no longer going to be a quiche lorraine in the purist sense because of the cheese and two shallots I found in the cupboard that I wanted to use up. I am neither French nor in Lorraine and as far as I am concerned, national dishes are allowed to develop once they escape from their country of origin.

For those who have no idea of what I am talking about, a quiche is an open-faced pastry pie with eggs, cream and lardons or bacon cubes. Of course there are endless variations with onion and garlic adding a more savoury flavour while added mature cheddar or a gruyère can be called, to keep the French flavour, a quiche au fromage, if you like. Add spinach and it becomes a quiche florentine, chuck in a few tomatoes and it becomes quiche provençale, throw in a handful of mushrooms and it is a quiche aux champignons.

Shocked by the amount of cream used in this recipe – the ultimate in cookingIMG_2785 extravaganza? – I must admit it is not something I often use or buy. On the rare occasions when I do, for a luxurious Irish Coffee or some special occasion, I would feel vaguely guilty. But I remember, as a child, we always used to have cream, along with butter and eggs and potatoes and buckets of milk and it was all considered healthy. However, you can, if you like, use milk instead but you will be missing out, I assure you, on the rich succulence that only cream can provide.

IMG_2788So, to work! I threw the flour, the cubed butter and the egg yolk into my aged food processor and dribbled in four spoonfuls of cold water as the processor grunted and heaved its way through the dough. I bundled out not quite coarse ‘breadcrumbs’ onto a floury board and gave it a bit of a knead before forming it into a rough ball which I wrapped in cling film and put in the fridge to ‘set’ for thirty minutes or so.IMG_2790

Using a wooden rolling pin, (I immediately thought of Andy Capp’s wife, Florrie, her hair in rollers, behind their front door, tapping a rolling pin IMG_2793meaningfully into her hand as she waited for her sot of a husband to come home) I rolled the pastry out as thinly as I could before lifting the sheet up carefully and draping it over a round baking tin.

I trimmed the edges of overhanging pastry and squashed a sheet of baking paper down on top of the pastry, filling the entire tin. I didn’t have any baking stones so I used a handful of rice and IMG_2797spread that evenly over the baking paper before putting the lot into a 180 degree C oven for about 10 minutes. After that, I removed the paper and rice – didn’t spill any, either! – and put the pastry tin back in the oven for another ten minutes.

IMG_2799While that was baking, I chopped up two small shallots and tossed them into a pan with a spoonful of oil – I had no more butter, having used it all for the pastry. After the shallots softened a bit, I tossed in the cubed bacon and stirred it around for a while before leaving it for ten minutes or so.

Just in time I remembered to take the pastry tin out of the oven – a lovely golden hue and a slightly darker crust – and left it to cool slightly.IMG_2802

While the bacon and shallots were braising, I broke four eggs into a jug, added the leftover white from the first egg and then spooned in a substantial glop of the crème fraiche, although I actually used some type of cooking cream, and then several generous glugs of fresh cream and a good pinch of freshly ground nutmeg before giving it all a good whisk. By that time, the bacon bits and shallots were ready so I tipped them out onto kitchen paper to drain a bit and grated up two large handfuls of gruyère. Scattering the bacon mixture and the grated cheese into the empty piecrust, I poured my eggy-creamy mixture on top of the lot, filling the piecrust 3/4 full.

IMG_2807I pulled out the oven rack and gently lowered the nearly filled pie tin down before topping it up with the rest of the creamy egg sauce. That way, I didn’t slop any on the floor while banging the lot into the oven at 180 degrees C.

I took a look at it after about 20 minutes and it looked gorgeous but still runny so I gave it another ten minutes. Even then, it was still soggy in the middle so I put it back for a further 15 minutes, took it out and, third time, it seemed perfection … until I tried to get it out of the baking tin. IMG_2811Note to self: next time use one of those baking tins where you can push up from beneath the bottom.

Using a spatula and a wooden spoon, I managed to heave it out, almost unbroken, onto a plate and then … what’s the word for ‘heaven’ in French?IMG_2812

Hmmm, what am I going to do with the leftover fresh cream? Maybe … a coffee?

 

 

Ingredients (for the pastry)

175g / 6oz plain flour

100g / 4oz cold butter, cubed

1 egg yolk

4 spoons of cold water

Ingredients (for the filling)

150g bacon bits (or lardons if you can get them from a deli)

2 small red shallots, chopped finely,

50g / 2oz Gruyère

200ml / 7 fl oz cream

200 ml crème fraiche or cooking cream

4 full eggs plus the white left over from the yolk used in the pastry

Pinch of ground nutmeg.