Monday, July 11, 2011

Monday Night Man Meals #5



Pudding time! And before you lose your shit and complain that dessert isn't really a man-meal (unless it's more meat), this pudding is a Steak & Kidney Pudding! Not really one for late after work on a Monday night, but hey, this just goes to show my commitment to y'all! Warning: this recipe contains miscellaneous animal parts.

This is another expericooking adventure for me - I promise I'll make something I'm any good at and share my recipe soon! - and gives me a chance to put something to the test that I've been wanting to try for a while. I love Hugh Fearnly-Whittingstall. I would have his scruffy, west-country accented babies if I could. This pud' makes me think of Hugh. Not in any sexual way... maybe a little. I saw him do one a while back and I felt MNMM was the best excuse for me to give it a bash.

Now, I'll admit offal isn't everyone's cup of tea. In fact, if you have it in a cup of tea you're probably even sicker than I am. But, regardless of your desperate food fetishes and mine, this recipe is actually relatively versatile and you can very easily swap the kidneys for something else (halved button mushrooms, chunks of venison or whatev's). What I really love is the genuine authenticity of the dish. There's something so... "Old Country" about a meat pud' that makes me fuzzy inside. I told my wife I was making this tonight and she told me her ol' dad used to make it. If there's anyone in the world who is a barometer of heart-stopping, rusticly-AWESOME food that you could anchor a boat with, it's my father-in-law!

To stay in character as Hugh's dirty little secret, I'm gonna make my own pastry from scratch. Wish me luck. Sift the required amount of flour into a bowl to get rid of any lumps. 1.5C is enough to make a decent sized pudding.

This is proper weight gain food, this - so I'm using dripping for the pastry (edit: as I read this back, this was NOT a good idea), this is about as rustic and heart-attacky as it gets. Read the side of the pack and it says: "Contains fat." Ideally, I would be using suet (for tradition) or shortening - did you know that shortening is called shortening because it is used to shorten pastry? True story. Actually, all that means is that the fat helps 'shorten' the gluten molecules of the flour, making it more pastry-like and less wall-paper-pasty. You'll need to grate the shortening & work fast, you don't want it to melt. About 1:1 to flour of grated shortening is bang-on.

Mix the shortening and flour together with a knife - or if you're flash, use a cake mixer etc. Don't use your hands as it'll make the shortening melt and give you quite a different result. Once the fat 'n' flour are mixed add a little VERY cold water - use iced water if you can. Just one TBSP at a time, mixing as you go until you get a kinda crumbly mixture.

Biff it on a well floured bench and give it a good old knead for about a minute - no more than a minute and a half. If it feels too dry, add a little more water, if it's too wet, dust in a little more flour. When you're done, wrap it up in plastic wrap and whack it in the fridge for about 30 mins.

Now... don't be afraid of the kidneys. If you've never had them, give them a chance. You can get them pre-cut from the butcher or in the case of whole ones, you want to split them down the middle, core them (remove the white bit) and cut them into about 1/4-1/2" chunks. Cut your beef steak (gravy, chuck, whatever - but nothing too nice) into cubes about the same size - you want it to cook all evenly and shizz. If you're really adamant you don't want kidneys, swap them for something else, more steak, whatever.

Add a good handful of flour and some spices to a bowl (sumac, garlic powder, paprika) and toss the meat to cover well. Don't worry about the excess flour, this will help thicken the sauce later.

Add about 1/3C of good stout (or "heavy" as my father-in-law would say), half a finely diced onion and some chopped, fresh rosemary & thyme. I've also added a tin of creamy mushrooms for extra flavour. Another thing you can add to make this 'proper', is oysters, I'm not a big fan BUT I have added some anchovies... Now, calm down princesses - they won't taste like they do on a pizza (which is the taste of AWESOME by the way), but will add a unique saltiness to the dish; a decent substitute for oysters (aka phlegm-balls) IMO.

Cover the meaty mixture, then pop it into the fridge for 15-20 mins. A little trick I learned with cling film and a metal bowl is rather than trying to get it to stick (it won't), just sort of lay the wrap on top of the food, making sure all the air is pushed out and then just stick the wrap to the sides. Sorted.

After half an hour in the fridge, your pastry will be much firmer. Carefully roll it out to about 1/4" thick on a well-floured bench. Just an FYI - it's not ugly when you can claim it's "rustic".

Carefully. Are you listening? CAREFULLY lift your pastry and lay over a greased pudding bowl (Just use a noodle bowl if you don't have the appropriate receptacle). Make sure you pat it nice and smooth, leaving no air bubbles underneath and flatten out any creases.

Cut the over-hanging edges off, leaving about 1cm or so still over the edge. Take the off-cuts and roll flat to about 1/4" again. Find a plate or saucer that is about the size of the top of the bowl and cut round it to make a lid for the puddin'.

Once you've cut the lid, wet around one edge lightly - just a finger dipped in water will do. Place the wet side down on top of the bowl, pressing firmly to seal. The wet pastry will be all sticky and what-not so will adhere well. Fold the over-hang you left earlier and pinch tightly over the edge of the lid. This whole bit sounds way more complex than it really is - the key here is to take your time and ensure that you get a tight seal (much like a walrus does when on the pull at an Arctic Circle nightclub).

Grab a piece of cheesecloth, or if you're really disorganised like me, grab a clean tea-towel and wrap the whole thing up nicely. Loosely wrap in tinfoil over that and tie it all together with butcher's string. Make sure the knots are tight as you'll be using the string as a sort of handle in a bit.


To begin with, this pudding will be steamed; I'm using a pressure cooker here, but you could easily use a regular steamer. The difference is the cooking time - 2hrs vs. 5hrs. (I thoroughly recommend grabbing a pressure cooker if you ever see one on special. Mine cost $80 and was worth every penny). If you have a trivet (the little standy-thing that came with your pressure cooker or dutch oven that you had no idea was used for) use that, otherwise put an up-turned bowl in the bottom. Just use something that won't burn. Or melt. Or turn into a unicorn. OK, that last one probably won't happen. Put enough water in the bottom of the pot to come just under the top of the trivet etc. If cooking in a steamer, you'll need to top it up periodically. If you using a pressure cooker, add more water if you hear it stop hissing. While you do that, I'm gonna have a beer.

The whole tinfoil-cloth-pudding structure will be hotter than two rats rooting in a sock, so very, very carefully lift the whole thing out by the string you so carefully and tightly tied earlier (right?)

Cut the strings and unwrap everything. You should have a lovely steamed pudding! And lots of steam as you can see... I really wish I took a better picture before I began serving this up. :( At this stage, if you've used suet or shortening and made your pastry thick enough, you should be able to turn this out upside-down onto a baking tray, glaze the outside with butter and bake at 200 degrees until golden. I DIDN'T use suet or shortening, nor did I make my pastry quite thick enough - so, I'll just be scooping this out and serving on mash. If the same happens to you, don't tell anyone... chances are they'll never know!


Hugh would probably force me to have some greens on my plate. Probably some kale that Bessie the prize ewe wee'd on but an hour ago. Yum. Given it's actually about 10.45pm when I am eating this, the greens can bite my bum!

Apart from the soggy pastry, this is just what I was after as a cockle-warming winter feast. I'd be happy to serve it to my father-in-law... and you know what? I think even HE'd lick his plate.

-Jeffois

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