Momofuku's 'Volcanoes'

At a time when everyone seems to be looking for meals they can make from 3 ingredients in under 15 minutes Christina Tosi's Volcanoes recipe from Momofuku Milk Bar will strike you as insanely long. It involves 3 separate recipes before you even begin to embark on the Volcanoes themselves. So why am I suggesting you should attempt it?

Because they're the best bread rolls in the universe - stuffed with sliced potato and cheese. I confess I haven't made them myself - yet - but my friend blogger Dan Vaux-Nobes of Essex Eating has and is obsessed with them. I tasted them the other day and could see his point: warm, cheesy and comforting (that's the rolls, not Dan) they're almost a meal in themselves. And not that difficult once you read the recipe(s) through.

Here they are with introductions from Christina.

makes 4 volcanoes (yes, just 4. Insane but they're BIG)

In February 2008, I traveled with Dave to Deauville, France, for the third annual Omnivore Food Festival. The two of us were like fish out of water in this off-season beach town. Straight off the plane from New York and jet-lagged, we were left to our own devices in the tiny, remote town to gather Asian ingredients for a kimchi demo.

We agreed to wake up at 6 a.m. the next day to get breakfast and get going. We met drowsy and confused in the empty hotel lobby and proceeded to sleepwalk through the ghost town until we could smell fresh-baked bread and saw a light on in the only bakery in town. Dave took charge and pointed at nearly everything in the joint, as that’s how we eat when we’re abroad. “I’m full” is not a phrase you’re allowed to use—such is the price of traveling with chef Dave Chang.

We found a bench outside and unwrapped this mound of bread that looked like it had some sort of creamy gravy inside. Still half-asleep, we wrestled the filled bread ball out of the bag and bit in. When you are having a food moment, it’s like tasting food for the first time. Your eyes open wide and then close, as if in slow motion. You chew as if no food with flavor has ever touched your tongue before and what you are eating at that very moment is what will shape all future food opinions you will ever have. That was our 6:05 a.m. February morning in Deauville. Neither of us speaks French, so we decided to call it what it was, a volcano—an explosion of potato, lardons, and cheese like no other. We raced each other to the bakery every subsequent morning that week. And on the plane ride home, we agreed that if and when we opened a bakery, it must serve our very own volcano.

½ recipe Mother Dough (see below), risen

1 recipe Caramelized Onions (see below)

1 recipe Scalloped Potatoes (see below)

1 egg

4g / ½ teaspoon water

100g shredded Gruyère cheese (Dan uses Keen's cheddar)

1. Heat the oven to 190°C/Gas 5.

2. Punch down and flatten the dough on a smooth, dry worktop. Use a dough cutter to divide the dough into 4 equal pieces. Use your fingers to gently stretch each piece of dough out into a mini pizza about 15 cm wide.

3. Divide the onions equally among the rounds, plopping them in the center. Grab the scalloped potatoes from the fridge and cut into four 7.5 cm squares. Use an offset spatula to wrestle each square of potato gratin out of the baking tray and onto a dough round, directly on top of the onions.

4. Take the edges of each dough round and pinch together to seal so that there is no speck of onion or potato in sight, then gently roll the ball between the palms of your hands to ensure the volcano has a nice, round, dinner roll–y shape. Arrange the volcanoes, seam side down, 12.5 cm apart on a parchment- or silicone-lined baking tray.

5. Whisk the egg and water together and brush a generous coat of egg wash on the buns. Use a paring knife to cut a 2.5 cm-long X in the top of each volcano. Divide the Gruyère evenly among the volcanoes, stuffing it into the X in each one.

6. Bake the volcanoes for 25 minutes, or until the dough is a deep, golden brown and the Gruyère cheese on top is caramelized. They are best served warm; allow them to cool for at least 10 minutes before digging in. If you’re saving a couple of volcanoes for later, let them cool, wrap them well in cling film, and store them in the fridge for up to 3 days; warm them in the oven before eating.

Caramelized onions

makes enough for 1 recipe Volcanoes

I love caramelized onions. I make them constantly at home and put them in everything from sandwiches to nachos piled high to scrambled eggs. They add a roasted depth of flavor and an unbelievable sweetness.

20g / 2 tablespoons grapeseed oil

2 medium Spanish onions, halved and thinly sliced

6g / 1½ teaspoons kosher or sea salt

1. Heat the oil in a large heavy-bottomed frying pan over medium-high heat for 1 minute, or until it’s very hot but not smoking. Add the onions and let them cook for 2 to 3 minutes without stirring.

2. Toss the onions with a large spoon or spatula while seasoning them with the salt. Lower the heat to medium-low. The rest of the caramelization process happens slowly over medium-low heat for 20 minutes. Work on another sub-recipe, pay some bills, kill some time productively—but don’t go too far from the onions. Toss the onions over on themselves every 3 to 4 minutes so they all get their time on the bottom of the pan. The onions will weep and then slowly take on color as they release their liquid. When your onions are the color of a brown paper bag, they are done. Cool completely before using in the volcanoes, or store in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 1 week.

Scalloped potatoes

makes enough for 1 recipe Volcanoes

1 garlic clove

105g/120ml whipping or double cream

85g/80ml milk

½ bay leaf

¼ rosemary sprig

2g/½ teaspoon kosher or sea salt

0.5g/pinch freshly ground black pepper

80g pancetta (Dan leaves this out as his girlfriend Elly is a vegetarian - they're fine without it)

2 baking potatoes

1. Smash the garlic clove with the palm of your hand and remove the skin. Put the garlic in a small saucepan with the cream, milk, bay leaf, rosemary, salt, and pepper and bring to a simmer over low heat, then take the saucepan off the heat, cover, and let steep for 30 minutes. The cream mixture will seem strong and overseasoned, but it will eventually season all of the scalloped potatoes, so don’t freak out.

2. Meanwhile, cut the pancetta, if using, into 1 cm cubes. Brown it in a small saucepan over medium heat. You want to caramelize and cook the pancetta slightly, to increase its presence later in the scalloped potatoes. Set aside.

3. Peel the potatoes and slice just thicker than paper-thin slices, about 3 mm thick. Submerge them in a bowl of cold water.

4. Heat the oven to 180°C/Gas 4. Pull out a 15 mm square baking tray (if you don’t have one, you can probably buy a disposable one at the supermarket).

5. Layer the potatoes in the tray like shingles (overlapping tiles), putting bits of browned pancetta between each layer of potato shingles, until you are out of both potatoes and pancetta. Fish out the herbs and garlic clove from the steeped cream mixture with a slotted or regular spoon, and then pour the cream over the potatoes.

6. Bake for 45 minutes, or until the potatoes on top are golden brown and have a milky translucence but have not burned or turned into potato crisps.

7. Cool and chill the scalloped potatoes in the fridge for 2 to 3 hours, covered with cling film and with a bowl of leftovers weighting them down and keeping every shingle tight and condensed in the tray.

8. Use in the volcano once cool. To store for later use, take the weights off, wrap the scalloped potatoes especially well in cling film, and return to the fridge for up to 5 days.

Mother dough

makes about 850 g

This bread dough is always tasty, very forgiving, and can be fashioned into nearly any style or variety of bready item. It takes a very “don’t take yourself so seriously!” approach to bread baking and is the easiest, most versatile recipe in the book—your resulting bagel bombs, volcanoes, brioche, focaccia, and croissants will be proof of that.

Make this dough one day, refrigerate it, and use it the second, third, or fourth day, if need be. Or freeze it for up to 1 week; just make sure to let it come to room temperature before using.

550g bread flour

12g / 1 tablespoon kosher or sea salt

3.5g / 1¹⁄8 teaspoons dried yeast

370g / 420ml water, at room temperature

grapeseed oil

1. Stir together the flour, salt, and yeast in the bowl of a free-standing electric mixer—do it by hand, using the dough hook like a spoon. Continue stirring by hand as you add the water, mixing for 1 minute, until the mixture has come together into a shaggy mass.

2. Engage the bowl and hook and have the machine mix the dough on the lowest speed for 3 minutes, or until the ball of dough is smoother and more cohesive. Then knead for 4 more minutes on the lowest speed. The dough should look like a wet ball and should bounce back softly when prodded.

3. Brush a large bowl with oil and dump the dough into it. Cover with cling film and let the dough rise at room temperature for 45 minutes.

4. The dough is ready to be used as directed in the following recipes. If you do not plan to use your mother dough the day you make it, you can store it in an airtight container at least twice its size in the fridge for up to 3 days. Take it out of the fridge and let it come to room temperature 30 to 45 minutes before using.

What to drink with Volcanoes
I haven't done extensive research on this (that's obviously to come) but can recommend a creamy oak-aged chardonnay or a glass of good sparkling wine or champagne. They'd probably go pretty well with a Merlot or an American IPA too.

Extracted from Momofoku Milk Bar by Christina Tosi published by Absolute Press at £25.00. There are many other insanely good recipes in it, mostly sweet. Read the Crumb section and try the Crack Pie. No, not that kind of crack.

Rose petal cupcakes

I call these cupcakes but in fact they're more like old-fashioned English fairy cakes which seem more appropriate for the Jubilee. I must say I prefer them. Made with butter rather than oil they taste more natural and 'cakey than an American-style cupcake and have about a third the amount of icing.

Makes 24 cakes

250g soft butter
250g caster sugar
4 large eggs, beaten with 1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
250g self raising flour, sifted twice
125ml whole milk

For the icing
50g soft butter
a few drops of pink food colouring
200g icing sugar, sifted twice
1/4 tsp rosewater
a small pinch of salt (about 1/3 of a tsp)
2-3 tbsp whole milk

You will need two shallow muffin tins and some pretty paper cases and some rose petal-shaped cake decorations

Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas 4

Tip the butter into a large bowl and beat with an electric hand whisk until smooth. Add the sugar about a third at a time and continue to beat until pale yellow and fluffy. Add the beaten eggs and vanilla essence gradually, adding a spoonful of flour with the last few additions. Fold in the remaining flour alternately with the milk taking care not to overmix. Spoon into the paper cases and bake for about 20- 25 minutes until well risen and firm to the touch. Remove the baking trays from the oven for 5 minutes then transfer the cakes to a wire rack to finish cooling.

Rinse and dry the beaters then make the icing. Beat the butter until soft. Pour a few drops of pink food colouring onto a teaspoon (easier to control than pouring straight from the bottle) then carefully add to the butter, pouring back any excess into the bottle. Gradually add the sifted icing sugar 2-3 tablespoonfuls at a time. Add the rosewater, salt and enough milk to make a spreadable consistency. Spread on the tops of the cupcakes and decorate with the sugar roses. Leave for 2 hours before stacking them into a tiered cake. Scatter real pink rose petals around the cake.

What to drink: Pink moscato or a nice cup of tea.

Pomegranate Eton Mess

To round off National Vegetarian Week here's a recipe from one of the most inspiring vegetarian cookery books I've come across: Sally Butcher's charming, idiosyncratic Veggiestan.. Sally runs an Iranian food store called Persepolis in south-east London so the recipes - which are terrific - all have an middle-eastern slant. It's also a cracking read!

This is how she introduces it:

Now I’m a bit cross about this dish. ‘Cos I sort of invented it. And then a friend of mine in Oz said she’d read a similar recipe in the Melbourne Times or some such. And then the divine Nigella came out with another version of it.

Anyway, this is my recipe. Completely unauthentic but drawing upon the very finest ingredients of the Middle East. And the perfect conclusion to a Middle Eastern feast.

Eton Mess has to be the easiest sweet in the world to prepare. And, as this recipe shows, it is so easy to tart up.

Rose syrup is easy to find in Greek shops – ask for ‘triandafilou’.

Serves 4

2 egg whites
100g/3½oz/½ cup caster sugar
¼ teaspoon baking powder

(or replace the above 3 ingredients with 4–5 shop-bought meringue nests)

2 medium pomegranates
250ml/9fl oz/1 cup whipping/double cream
2 tablespoons rose syrup
handful of rose petals (optional decoration)

Meringues first. Preheat your oven to 160ËšC/325ËšF/Gas mark 3. Whip the egg whites until they start to peak, and then fold in the sugar little by little, followed by the baking powder. Line a baking tray with baking parchment, and then spoon the mixture on to it in random blobs – the finished product is to be broken up anyway, and so appearance and uniformity are irrelevant.

Turn the oven down to 120ËšC/250ËšF/Gas mark ½, and pop the tray in there for 2 hours. If you have time on your side, and the luxury of an airing cupboard at home, take the meringues out of the oven a little earlier, cover them lightly with a cloth and leave them in the airing cupboard overnight – this will get you the perfect, light finish.

Next to the pomegranates. Take one in both hands and gently knead it all around with your thumbs: you will be able to feel the seeds inside popping as you go. Do not do this too vigorously, as you may burst the skin, which will at the very least splatter you with largely indelible red juice. After a couple of minutes, make a small incision in the skin of the pomegranate, and invert it over a glass: you should now be able to squeeze out the juice from all the seeds you have burst. Now that the tension in the skin has been eased, it will be easy to pry the fruit open, and you will be able to crumble all the intact seeds into a bowl. Repeat this exercise with the other pomegranate.

Next, whip the cream together with the rose syrup and the pomegranate juice. Such a pretty pink, no?

Assembly time. Don’t do this until just before you want to serve – the whole thing will sink slowly if you do it too early. Break the meringue roughly into the rose cream, and then stir in most of the pomegranate seeds. Arrange a few rose petals around your chosen serving dish, pile the Eton mess into the centre, and strew with the reserved pom seeds.

Note:
Never choose a pom because it will look good in your fruit bowl; generally speaking the ones with the tauter, drier skins and the slightly angular shape are best. Size is immaterial – the smaller ones are often the sweetest.

What to drink:
You need a fresh-tasting young dessert wine with good acidity for this. A late harvest Sauvignon Blanc or Riesling would be ideal or, echoing the rose syrup, a vendange tardive Gewurztraminer

Recipe from Sally Butcher’s Veggiestan, published by Pavilion. Recipe photography by Yuki Sugiura.

 

Zarzuela

A robust Spanish fish stew from Stevie Parle's fabulous new Dock Kitchen Cookbook. Stevie is one of the best -travelled and most original chefs in London with a well-honed magpie tendency of picking up ingredients and techniques from every country he visits. He also writes a weekly column in the Daily Telegraph.

Catalonian fish stew with mussels (zarzuela)

Serves 6

This Catalonian recipe first caught my eye because of its extraordinary name. A beautiful saffron-laced fish stew, it is baked in the oven with a picada of almonds, garlic, saffron and parsley. Picada is a useful tool, a way to add punch, usually with raw garlic, sometimes paprika or almonds.

Zarzuela is also the name of an operetta or a variety show in Spain; I imagine the name comes from the many kinds of fish in the stew.

500g monkfish tail

1 small red onion, roughly chopped

½ small heart of celery, roughly chopped

olive oil

2 bay leaves

2 sprigs of thyme

1 tsp paprika piccante

400g can of whole plum tomatoes, washed of

their juice

200ml white wine

50g coarse breadcrumbs

2 garlic cloves, green sprouts removed

sea salt

a few sprigs of parsley

pinch of saffron

50g blanched almonds (preferably Spanish)

1 red mullet, filleted

400g wild bass fillet, cut into 4 pieces

200g small, clean rope-grown mussels

If it hasn’t already been done by your fishmonger, pull the skin from the monkfish: you should be able to do this with your hands and the occasional nick with a sharpknife to help you on your way. Cut the fish through the central bone into four pieces.

Fry the onion and celery in a heavy-based pan in olive oil with the bay leaves, thyme and paprika. After about 10 minutes, once the vegetables are soft, add the tomatoes, increase the heat and add the white wine. Simmer for 20 minutes. Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F/gas mark 6.

Meanwhile, make the picada. Fry the breadcrumbs in a generous splash of olive oil until golden and crunchy. Crush the garlic with salt, parsley and saffron, add thealmonds and pound until coarsely ground. Add the fried breadcrumbs and set aside while you assemble the dish.

Place the monkfish, red mullet and bass in an earthenware oven tray and pour over the tomato sauce. Add a little water and the mussels, then sprinkle over thepicada. Bake in the hot oven until the fish is easy to flake apart and the mussels open (about 15 minutes).

Serve with a plate of greens or potatoes liberally dressed with olive oil and sherry vinegar.

What to drink:
There are several ways to go with this robustly-flavoured dish. My own preference, I think, would be for a dry Spanish rosado from Rioja or Navarra but you could drink an Albarino or even a young red like the increasingly fashionable Mencia or a young (joven) Rioja. Chilled manzanilla sherry would be great too.

You can visit the Dock Kitchen website here - it's a little out of the way but has a great atmosphere and fabulous food. Well worth a visit.

Photograph © Toby Glanville