One Pot Wednesday: Octopus

Very exciting new feature for Lou Loves Food!
One cold winter Wednesday in East London a few weeks back, I cooked a warming one pot dish. It was a success, and decided that the format should be repeated again the next week. Before long a seed of genius was planted within one bright little mind (Ican't claim it was mine, I don't remember who first noticed the alliterative potential of 'one pot' and 'wednesday') and from that seed One Pot Wednesday was born.
As we work our way through a wide range of dishes that can be created with minimum complexity- minimum washing up- I will upload them for you to try. The first to make its debut is Octopus Stew...

Octopus Stew

This is a lovely dish, though a little nerve wracking the first time you give it a go, as octopus is notoriously temperamental. Don't be put off by assuming it is either tough or chewy, this needn't be the case and I'll give you comprehensive instructions to avoiding it. It's so worth doing if you get it right- and I'm confident you will. The little tightly curled pink tentacles that nestle amongst the translucent stock and onion are so delicate and beautiful, especially pitted against the greens of the parsley and celery. I find it impossible to work with octopus without going into a rapture over their aesthetic.

1 large octopus, cleaned and frozen
1 bulb of Fennel
4 stalks of celery
2 white onions
1 jug fish stock
2 cups white wine
2 bulbs garlic
Large handful parsley
Plenty of cracked black pepper

Start by warming a large pan with a generous amount of olive and preparing your octopus if it hasn't already been done. It's important to freeze your octopus as it tenderizes it, and prevents you having to give it a good beating with a rolling pin before cooking.
Place the octopus (whole and unchopped) into the pan and add the garlic. Leave for a couple of minutes for the octopus to release its natural juices into the oil and then add a cup of white wine and the chopped onion.
Add the fish stock (I like to use the jelly stock) and bring to the boil, reducing immediately to a simmer. Whilst this simmers, chop the celery and fennel into slices. Add to the pan with the chopped parsley, reserving a little.

Now leave! With octopus and squid there is a cardinal rule you must abide by- never cook between 4 and 45 minutes! For a soft and tender squid (a chewy, rubbery texture is the main reason most people dislike this maligned creature. It is not in fact an accurate description and it is easily avoided, as long as you cook it correctly.) you should either fry it gently for less than four minutes, or stew it for over forty five. Anything on either side or between this tricky times can be disastrous.

After about forty minutes, remove your octopus with a slatted spoon. Slice up thickly and return to the pan, checking the texture. You should be able to slide a knife into it to gage its tenderness, but I like to taste test it! It may need an extra five or ten minutes- don't be afraid of going with your instinct. After about 55 minutes, my octopus went from being ever so slightly al dente to perfectly smooth and soft.

When its ready, add another cup of white wine and plenty of cracked pepper. Stir, and remove from the heat. The fish stock should make the stew nice and salty, but if you do like to season you're dishes, don;t do it till this point- adding salt any earlier to seafood will dry it out and toughen it up- don't do it!

Dish the stew into bowls and top with extra pepper (you can never have too much pepper in my book- the same applies to onion) and a second handful of parsley.

xxx

How to: make simple Salmon en croute

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There are some flavours that were born to be together. Some of these flavours are surprising- strawberry and balsamic vinegar, chocolate and thyme... Others are elegant; monk fish and speck... Then there are the simple ones, and I sometimes believe these make for the best combinations.
Some of these flavours are salmon and prawns or cream cheese and sweet chili, and together they make one of my favourite meals.
(And it's very hard for me to pick my favourite meals...)

So the other night was a basic variety of filo salmon en croute. Its quick and very easy, and I'm sure you all know how to make it- But in case you need reminding...

Lay out a few layers of filo rectangles. Brush each layer with a bit of egg before putting the next one down. (Two or three is enough.) On top of the rectangle of filo, place an uncooked salmon fillet. Spread on a layer of cream cheese and then place a line of peeled prawns onto the fillet. Over this, drizzle with sweet chilli sauce and finally, top with spinach.
Crack some black pepper over and pull up the sides and edges of the filo and seal it like a parcel round the ingredients. Brush the edges with a big more egg to help bind, and then brush a bit over the top of the parcel.
Stick in the oven at about 180C and cook for fifteen minutes, till the filo is flaky and a bit golden.

Five ingredients that taste like they should always be together ...

x

Lou Loves Travel: Italy

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I never got into Italian food until recently. A few friends of mine have sung its praises and I've slowly become more aware of it. The other night, a post dinner walk led me to the doors of River Cafe. I recently bought a beautiful hardback copy of the River Cafe cookbook from a charity shop, and after experiencing my first taste of Polenta (yeah, I know!) I have embarked on a passionate love affair with the versatile cornflour meal.

Considering this blossoming curiosity, it was only a matter of time before I found myself in Italy. This time ended up being sooner rather than later. Last week Lou Loves Food embarked on a brief Epicurean tour of Tuscany, picking up tastes in Florence, Pisa and Lucca. (It was a trip my thighs will never forgive me for.)

We hid from the rain in Lucca, taking comfort in Chianti and brushetta with plates of fresh chopped tomatoes, and we drank Spritz (Prosecco and Campari with soda) under the beating sun in the courtyard bars overshadowed by the Duomo in Florence.

I drank more Prosecco than I care to admit to, already having a weakness for it thanks to London's penchant for the more elegant and creative cocktail menus. I discovered a new favourite ice cream flavour from their innumerable Gellatoria's- where the ice creams are whipped into towering peaks, studded with hazelnuts, strawberries or crumbled biscotti.
My new flavour du jour is pine nut- a creamy, nutty ice cream laced with whole pine nuts.


And pine nuts seem to wriggle their way into all dishes- from the pasta and antipasti to their extensive and inescapable selection of cakes that line the glass counters of every bar. I was seduced, more than once, by the Tuscan speciality- Torta con i Bisheri- shapeless biscuits with raisins and chocolates and Prisaria, crumbling and stuffed with almond paste, dusted with mounds of icing.

In Pisa, I experienced my first ever edible gnocchi. I had only eaten it once or twice before, and in fairness, it had come out of a packet and been prepared by me. I had been disappointed; the results were lumpy, stodgy and tastes more of starch and carbs than anything else. The gnocchi I ordered in a pasta place down a Pisan side road was soft and melting and coated in melting Gorgonzola.

I ate an Italian pizza in a local backstreet trattoria, where the chef totted up the bill in front of a huge pizza oven (Two bottles of water, a bottle of Prosecco and three large pizzas for around £24) whilst still covered up to the elbows in flour. It sparked a dangerous hunger in me for pizza that I suspect will haunt my dreams and my kitchen for months to come.

I tried as much pasta as was possible in such a limited time; tagliatelle with courgette and salmon, sea food spaghetti and a simple Farfalline dish with black olives and oil. And I kept my energy up, of course, with countless tiny cups of strong espresso. Yet another weakness of mine, despite my crippling caffiene intolerance.

I can now admit that I am a convert to the world of Italian cuisine. A world I have little experience in. But you just give me time...

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