Sausage Casserole ... and Breakfast

Weekly experiment with legumes, here, green lentils ...

Toulouse sausages, high meat content and little else in there ... as they should be. Combine with a few simple ingredients and a couple of store cupboard staples and you've got a great dinner!

Okay, so legumes are not primal but there is a spectrum here, a spectrum, folks. Not all legumes are made evil ... I mean equal. Some, down this end of the spectrum, like lentils are actually fine; red kidney beans down the other end, form a cross with your fingers, primal folks, they're still evil.

Anyway ...

Sausage Casserole

Skillet on, goose fat in, sausages browned off over a low heat and chucked into a lidded Pyrex dish.

In the remaining fat, soften a shredded onion and soak up the lovely fat with some shredded mushrooms. Pour over the sausages in the Pyrex.

Slice a red pepper and a green pepper. Add to the Pyrex.

Pour over a carton of chopped tomatoes.

Pour over a carton of green lentils.

Add three or four cloves of garlic, peeled and thinly sliced, sea salt and black pepper.

Stir together and commit to the oven at 170C (350F) for a good hour, then remove the lid and let it reduce for another 30 minutes, or so.

Serve out when it's how you like it.

... and leftovers?

Breakfast

What do you do with leftovers? Bulk out with something fresh, here some courgette and asparagus, and stick and egg on top. Instant breakfast.

Chicken Chasseur

Classic French cuisine ...

Just the word "cuisine" can bring people out in a sweat when they're faced with that notion and put in front of a stove. Couple that with "French" and those people will be running for the door.

But, relax ...

Just because it's French Cuisine doesn't mean it's especially complicated; quite the contrary, in fact, given how rural France is and how much of their cuisine is simple rustic fair elevated to daft levels of culinary highs by Chefs who really should just come down to earth a little.

Chicken Chasseur is about as rustic as you can get. Cooked over an open fire, this is Hunter's Chicken, Pollo a la Cacciatore or whatever you want to call it in whatever language.

Chicken Chasseur

Chicken - Thighs, for me: 5 of them
Mushrooms - Portobello in my dinner: 3 large
Tomato - Keep it simple: carton of chopped tomatoes
Tomato Purée
Onion - 1 Medium
Garlic - 3-4 Cloves
Herbs & Spices - Thyme & Ground Coriander
Seasoning - Sea Salt & Black Pepper
Fat - Your favourite paleo fat or Lardons of Bacon

Cut up the chicken pieces into large chunks, or if you have meat on the bone just keep it as-is, so full thigh, full wing, whatever.

Take a large lidded skillet and a little of your favourite paleo fat or if you actually prepared for this, bacon lardons and seal the meat. Medium heat ... don't be nuking this thing!

Toss in a shredded onion and fry off until soft.

Add in sliced mushrooms to soak up all the lovely fat. Garlic, too, sliced.

Pour in a carton of chopped tomatoes and beef up with a little tomato purée.

In with the dried herbs, spices and seasoning.

Top up with water, bring to the boil, lid on and settle over a low heat for a couple of hours to cook through, soften, tenderise and reduce.

Ready to eat?

Just cook off the last of the liquid with the lid off while you boil some potatoes or rice, or cook through some rice noodles. Something starchy, anyway.

I went with lovely creamy mashed potatoes. Mash.

Plate up and gobble down hungrily and hopefully a little messily ...

Poulet Chasseur [Hunter's Stew]

Chasseur Sauce is a traditional sauce in French cuisine, of shallots, garlic, mushrooms, tomato, wine and herbs, the addition of chicken pieces makes it Poulet Chasseur, or Chicken Chasseur as we more commonly know it.

Chasseur is French for 'hunter' and a dish we probably already know from the Italian as Pollo a la Cacciatore, or 'Hunter's Chicken'.

Simply one-pot, you can make it as high-brow or as low-brow as you like ...

At it absolute simplest, it is a case of adding chopped onion or shallot, minced garlic, whole button mushrooms, tomato purée, perhaps some skinned and de-seeded chopped tomatoes, herbs, such as parsley, thyme, maybe tarragon, black pepper, chicken stock, wine, be it red or white, and all the chicken pieces you can find.

Pieces? Yeah! Once the breast has been removed, the pieces are whatever is left: wings, thighs, drumsticks and anything else you see that looks okay to eat. Chuck it all in! If your paleo proclivities are towards not using wine, then don't. Just the stock will do fine.

Ensure it is covered with stock and wine, and cook for a good 2-3 hours in the oven at, say, 150C (300F?).

Serve with thick, creamy mash and something green. Dinner, done!

I did mine ever so slightly differently ... well, don't I always?

Interested? My method is, I suppose, a little more refined and will give a dish already removed from the bone but all the goodness cooked in.

I simply cooked my chicken through for about 4 hours at 125C covered with nothing more than water and a couple of bay leaves in there. What I get from that is cooked chicken and stock.

Remove the chicken pieces, skin, remove the flesh from the bones and winkle out any gristle and sinew, returning these waste parts and the stock to a pan to reduce. Strain and set the stock aside. You'll no doubt have more than you need for this dish, so you've got a chicken broth already sorted for another day.

Don't shred the chicken flesh - leave it in large and irregular sized pieces.

Shortly before you want to eat, melt some goose fat (or your favourite paleo fat) in a good size skillet, sauté off some mushrooms, add onion or shallot, garlic, a couple of skinned and de-seeded tomatoes, chopped, dried thyme, fresh parsley, black pepper, sea salt, the chicken flesh and now a good glug of wine (red or white, doesn't matter) and chicken stock.

Simmer and reduce while you prepare your vegetables.

Sea Bass Dauphinoise with Prawn & Tomato Salsa

I agree ... it looks a bit of a car crash!

Let's break it down a little - it's Gratin Dauphinoise, over which I placed a couple of sea bass fillets and crowned with a prawn and tomato salsa, and some spinach alongside.

It's all pretty self-explanatory, really ...

Make the Gratin Dauphinoise, make up the salsa while you're waiting and then when you're ready to eat, wilt some spinach and fry off the fish fillets which will take no more than a few minutes.

The salsa was just de-seeded and chopped tomato, some prawns sliced in two, olive oil, sea salt, black pepper and capers.

Gratin Dauphinoise

Traditional French, from the Dauphiné region, a rustic dish of potato, garlic and crème fraîche.

Rustic is the key here because like much French cuisine, this has been elevated to the ridiculous in terms of technique and ingredients.

Let's take it back! It's a simple dish after all  ...

Fancy it? You'll need the following:

• Potatoes
• Cream or Crème Fraîche
• Garlic (Cloves or Powdered)
• White Pepper
• Sea Salt
• Butter

Peel and slice the potatoes. If you have a mandolin slicer, great, otherwise use your vegetable peeler or a good kitchen knife. Slice into your cooking bowl so that you have the quantity to use and keep going until the cooking receptacle is maybe three quarters full.

Like all ancestral cooking, we're not limiting ourselves to this one meal - leftovers are great! Make a big batch and enjoy the rest re-heated.

With sufficient potatoes, we can now add the rest of the ingredients.

If you're using powdered garlic, sprinkle some over, along with white pepper and sea salt. Mix well and give another sprinkle ... mix well ... you get the drill. Cloves of garlic should be crushed and stirred into the cream to ensure it is well distributed ...

... and so, onto the cream. Using double cream or crème fraîche, pour in enough to coat the potatoes as you mix them into the cream with your hands. Use a little to start with - you can always add more.

Pat the potatoes down to make a flat cake and dot some butter over which will crisp up the top and giev a lovely flavour and texture to the dish.

Into the oven set to 175C (350F?) for an hour, or so. An hour is good for maybe an inch and a half thick and thinly sliced potatoes. You'll want longer and perhaps a lower temperature if yours is deeper or thicker slices.

See? I told you it was easy ... or "rustic" ...

Serve alongside whatever it is you're eating ...

We finished off a corned beef and vegetable stew and had some turkey sausages on top, and we'll have the leftovers later in the week with some haddock, pickled vegetables and chimichurri.

Sausage & Lentil Casserole

Caution! Lentils Ahead!

You know what? I don't at all mind lentils. I know they're not paleo, not even by a long stretch of imagination even for the most lenient of paleo revisionists, but who cares?

What they are is a good pack of protein, good micros and, as our man at Free the Animal will tell us, a useful source of resistant starch. The bad? Anti-nutrients! Which are largely neutered by the soaking and cooking process.

Not ideal, but certainly not all bad ... and if you like them, a perfectly good deviation for a quick meal.

Casserole: French for "saucepan", a deep dish which is both committed to the oven and presented at the table for serving.

I went with the following:

• Turkey Sausages & Smoked Bacon
• Onion, Garlic & Chilli
• Potato
• Mushrooms
• Green Lentils (Canned)
• Tomato Purée
• Dried Marjoram, Black Pepper & Sea Salt
• Fresh Parsley

Take a large oven-proof pan and melt some of your favourite paleo fat (yes, goose fat, for me) and fry off your sausages. I went with turkey sausages.

Toss in some shredded smoked bacon, chopped onion, garlic and chilli. Fry off until softened.

Add in cubed potatoes and fry on to start to cook through.

In with the mushrooms, sliced, quartered or chopped, to mop up the surplus fat.

Tip in the can of lentils, water and all.

Finally, a good squirt of tomato purée, dried marjoram, black pepper and sea salt.

Settle into the oven for about half an hour to cook through and reduce, and you're done.

Remove from the oven, stirring in some fresh parsley and serve at the table with something green - tenderstem broccoli, here, Savoy Cabbage would do equally well.

Venison Chilli [Variation]

Friday night, again, and Chilli Night!

Having enjoyed Vension Chilli so much a couple of weeks ago, I happened upon a good deal for diced venison in the supermarket and fancied a repeat.

With a twist ...

Once again, the ingredients you'll need are:

• Venison & Smoked Bacon
• Mushrooms
• Coconut Oil
• Onion, Garlic & Chilli
• Cocoa Powder, Ground Coriander & Paprika
• Worcestershire Sauce, Chipotle Paste & Beef Stock
• Chopped Tomatoes
• Oregano & Marjoram
• Black Pepper & Smoked Sea Salt

Tonight's deviation:

• Guinness

Melt some coconut oil in a heavy based skillet, browning off the meat and dropping in a bunch of sliced mushrooms to soak up all the good fat.

Now, empty the cupboards!

Ground coriander, paprika, cocoa powder, black pepper, smoked sea salt ... just bung a load in! Sprinkle over the herbs and then a good splosh of Worcestershire Sauce and some Chipotle Paste (I used some Discovery brand which has no offensive ingredients, just chipotle, tomato vinegar and salt).

Pour in some Guinness. For two people and about a pound of meat, I used half a can of Draught Guinness.

Meanwhile chop up an onion, garlic and chillies, and blend together. Pour into the skillet and cook through.

Gently blend some chopped tomatoes, too. Pour these into the skillet and stir through, adding some beef stock.

Lower the heat and give it a couple of hours, topping up with water as necessary.

Tonight, served in rustic bowls, salad alongside and a ramekin of guacamole, this was a seriously gorgeous meal! Yoghurt crowning the chilli, perfect.

The Guinness added so much. Next time, I'll use a bottle of Foreign Extra ...

It struck me that this dish was very French. As I was cooking it, I thought to myself how French in style it was - maybe because it was me cooking, and French cuisine has had a big impact, maybe because it was actually just how many good, honest, rustic French dishes come about.

I don't know, but I'm marking up this method as "fusion".

Thoughts?

Roasted Rat!

Roasted Rat? Yeah! Okay ... okay ... Ratatouille.

Home from work and in need of a quick dinner to eat earlier in the evening and then out fencing. Fencing is no fun on a full stomach!

Ratatouille is a traditional French Provençal stewed vegetable dish, formally titled Ratatouille Niçoise in reference to its city of origin. The main ingredients are tomatoes, onions, courgette, aubergine, peppers, garlic, marjoram and basil. Variations are permissible and indeed, recommended.

My Rat was: onions, aubergine, courgette, cocquina squash, coloured bell peppers, olives, chillies, garlic, oregano, marjoram, sea salt, black pepper and quartered tomatoes. Lashings of olive oil!

Into the oven pre-heated to 180C for about half an hour. Too high a heat and the veggies dry out; 180C is just right to cook through and soften the veggies without them losing all texture.

Now what?

Fish! I had a couple of tail fillets of sea bass, so butter in a skillet, fish in, skin side down, leave it ... leave it ... couple of minutes, flip once the skin is crispy and switch the heat off, allowing the fleshy side to cook through in the residual heat while I serve up.

Serve up, rat down, fish on top, sorted!

Beauty! Time to go skewer some friends ... En Garde!

Bouillabaisse

... taken back to basics.

Bouillabaisse is a Provençal fish stew, originating from a dish made by fishermen with unpopular fish that they had trouble selling. Anyone who tells you that a Bouillabaisse is anything more than a simple fish soup, a simple, rustic fish soup is telling you lies.

Bouillabaisse, like much French cuisine, has been elevated to ridiculous heights with all manner of rules applied; it must contain this, that and the other. Whatever! It's fish soup. Got it?

Ingredients

Seafood - whatever you have: haddock, smoked haddock, pollock, squid, prawns and scallops, for us

Stock - fish stock, chicken stock, whatever you have

Flavours - onion, leek, fennel, garlic, tarragon, star anise and olive oil; tomatoes, tomato purée, sea salt and black pepper

Veggies - why not? I went with a red pepper

Rouille - garlic, egg yolk, olive oil, sea salt and white pepper

Stock

Stock is the base of this soup. Some methods will use whole fish that don't want to be in the soup, boiled, blended and sieved. You can buy in a fish stock or even use a cube, but watch those ingredients.

I was lucky to be cooking some chicken pieces alongside for another day, which had finished, so had some lovely chicken stock and bones. I was also double-lucky to be preparing some other fresh fish for lunches, so had the trimmings, bones, heads and whatnot from them, too.

So, chicken stock, bones, fish pieces and some shredded leek greens, I boiled on for maybe 20 minutes to reduce the stock, sieved and set aside to add into the Bouillabaisse later.

Bouillabaisse

In a large pan, soften some chopped onion, shredded leek whites, shredded fennel and garlic in olive oil. Toss in a stalk of tarragon and a couple of star anise. Keep the heat low and let the flavours meld.

Once soft, pour in a carton of chopped peppers along with a good dollop of tomato purée.

Add the stock and set to a high simmer, dropping in the fish pieces. Reserve the shellfish until near the end.

Reduce the liquor and allow the soup to thicken up. Drop in the shellfish within five minutes of serving - they'll take no time to cook through.

Rouille

Simply, garlic mashed into a paste and let out with an egg yolk and some olive oil to make a mayonnaise, of sorts. Salt and pepper to taste.

Some rouille recipes include breadcrumbs. We don't need to. If you do need to thicken your soup, add some arrowroot directly to the soup at the time you add the shellfish.

Serve

Serve out into wide brimmed bowls with a good dollop of rouille in the middle.

We also had some Cheese Puffs alongside - cassava flour, grated cheese, egg, cream, water and baking powder. Pour into cake moulds and rise in the oven for maybe 15 minutes.

... actually, more like mini-Yorkshire Puddings.

Fish Provençale

Provençale? Yup! Inspired by the French Mediterranean province, I cooked up a dish of vegetables over which we had a piece of white fish and a Sauce Vierge, a light, Mediterranean sauce of olive oil and tomato.

Constituents

Fish - any white fish will do. We had coley, but cod, haddock, pollock or halibut would do equally well. Good thick fillets of sea bass would be very nice. Butter for pan frying.

Veggies - a mix of courgette, peppers, onion, garlic, olives, olive oil, black pepper and sea salt should do fine. Add in some squash or root veggies if you like; I did. No need for tomato - it's in the sauce. Herbs? Dried oregano or marjoram is perfect.

Sauce - tomato, garlic, shallot, olive oil, black pepper and sea salt.

Veggies

Oven on. Set to 180C.

For two, chop up a medium onion, courgette, pepper (bell pepper or capsicum, depending upon your proclivities), stick of celery and some squash pieces.

Toss into an roasting tray and slosh a load of olive oil over, freshly milled black pepper, sea salt and a little oregano or marjoram, or both. Mix well.

Later, we'll toss in a handful of black olives, but for now settle into the oven for about 30 minutes.

Sauce

Meanwhile, make up the sauce ...

Sauce Vierge is a simple sauce of chopped tomato, olive oil, lemon juice and basil.

Sauce Vierge

Naturally, I did it a little differently using dill in place of basil, a flavour I love with coley, and the addition of pickled garlic and minced spring onion. Typically, shallot would be used, fresh garlic and sometimes capers are added - I left out the capers.

Tomatoes should be skinned and seeded, so slash an X into each tomato and plunge into boiling water for about a minute. Retrieve and drop into iced water.

Skin, quarter and de-seed. Chop fine.

Mince the white part of a spring onion, finely slice some garlic; pickled if you have it for less bite, and chop up some dill.

Mix together in a bowl with a generous amount of olive oil and a good squeeze of lemon juice. Pinch of sea salt.

Sauce Vierge can be served cold or hot. Either way, let the sauce sit for a short while to permit the lemon juice to macerate the sharp ingredients. Warm through in a frying pan if you like.

I wanted a chilled sauce over, so put the bowl of sauce in the fridge.

Fish

Prepare your fish by scaling, gutting and cleaning.

Fillet up and select a couple of good, thick fillets for this dish, pinch gently and slash the skin a few times.

When the veggies look just about done, toss in a handful of black olives.

Take a heavy based frying pan or skillet, melt some butter and place the fillets in skin side down.

Let the fish sit there for three to five minutes. Do not be tempted to move them about. When the flesh starts to turn opaque and a gentle shove of the pan proved the fillets not to be stuck, flip them over and lower the heat allowing the residual heat in the pan to do the majority of the cooking on the softer flesh side.

Serve

Spoon the veggies out onto a plate. Optionally, dress the plate with a few leaves: spinach and rocket is good.

Lay the fish over, skin side up for presentation and spoon the Sauce Vierge over.

Coq au Vin [Snubbed by Escoffier]

Burgundian French - a simple stew of rooster in wine, lardons, mushrooms, onion and garlic.

Specifically, the rooster is an older bird with tougher meat than a chicken, hence the need to tenderise the meat in wine.

Coq au Vin is a rustic, peasant dish and I was keen to see what Escoffier had to say on the matter ...

Nothing! Nada! Nought! Zero! Zilch!

Well, so much for the King of Chefs, eh? Le Guide Culinaire has over 80 pages dedicated to chicken and over 200 recipes therein ... but not one of them details this classic French dish.

So, turning my back on the heights of gastronomy, I relied upon my instincts and decided upon a course where the ingredients and method are really pared back and kept true to the rustic roots of the dish.

Food

Using chicken thighs and red wine, spiced with bay leaves and star anise, slow-cooked with bacon, shallots, garlic and mushrooms in a chicken stock we'll have a simple, rustic dish worthy of any French peasant.

You'll also need something to thicken the sauce, since the traditional flour coating over the chicken is not going to work for us. I used arrowroot at the end.

Chicken & Red Wine

Chicken thighs, skin on. I went with three each. Many recipes suggest removing the skin and I understand why, but we're paleo eaters and not going to be at all phased by a fatty dish. Skin is very fatty and will release all that fat during cooking, leaving us with a bowl of chicken swimming in grease.

We can render some of that out by gently frying off the chicken pieces in a skillet. Gently, so the skin does not overly colour up, but sufficient to release the grease ... which we'll reserve in a ramekin in the fridge for cooking with another time. Schmaltz, essentially.

Wine. We want the acidity but not the bitterness of the alcohol, so ... pour about half a bottle (for two people served three thighs each) into a pan and raise the heat to boiling.

You can boil on for a few minutes or risk setting your kitchen on fire with a much more fun method! Strike a match over the pan and after an initial WOOF! you'll see a blue flame which will gradually die down ... when it's gone, so has the alcohol.

Coq ... au Vin

Settle the chicken into an ovenproof dish, like Pyrex or a cast iron Dutch oven, cover with the wine and push a few bay leaves in along with a couple of star anise. Leave overnight, preferably in the fridge.

Lardons, Shallots & Mushrooms

Ready to cook? Get your oven on and set to 150C (300F?).

Fry off some lardons or streaky bacon. Tilt the pan to collect the fat and scatter the lardons over the chicken.

Peel some shallots and add to the chicken. Peel and toss in a few cloves of garlic.

Pour over a handful of button mushrooms each onto the chicken.

Top up with a little chicken stock just to cover and grind some black pepper over.

Into the oven for a couple of hours with the lid off so that the sauce can evaporate and reduce ...

I prefer a couple of hours on a lower heat than one at, say, 175C (350F?) ... your call.

Focaccia!

Traditionally, Coq au Vin would be served with egg noodles or mashed potato.

Focaccia

I could ... but read a recipe for gluten-free Focaccia that I thought would be perfect. It was, or rather would be if we liked that kind of thing but found it very heavy, stodgy and really not to our liking. YMMV. Next time, I'll try some rice noodles.

Serve

Ready to eat? Our Coq au Vin should now be cooked, darker in colour with the sauce well reduced.

Skim off any residual fat from the surface. There will be some, since we have the skins on, but it won't be too much.

Spoon out the chicken pieces, shallots and mushrooms into wide-brimmed bowls and pour off the sauce into a pan. Heat on, add in some arrowroot to thicken. Taste. Happy? Pour over the chicken.

Yum! Sod the Focaccia! It was consigned to the bin. Shame.

The Coq au Vin was delicious! Lovely chicken, superb sauce, very filling and very satiating even without the optional stodge.

Steamed Hake over Baked Ratatouille

Roasted Rat? Yeah! Okay ... okay ... Ratatouille.

Ratatouille is a traditional French Provençal stewed vegetable dish, formally titled Ratatouille Niçoise in reference to its city of origin. The main ingredients are tomatoes, onions, courgette, aubergine, peppers, garlic, marjoram and basil. Variations are permissible and indeed, recommended.

My Rat was: onions, aubergine, courgette, mushrooms, sweet potato, chillies, garlic, oregano, chicken stock, black pepper and chopped tomatoes, fortified with a couple of blobs of tomato purée. I added a good glob of goose fat into the middle - I find fat seems to emulsify tomato sauces well, giving a real sumptuous depth.

Put that lot into an ovenproof dish with a lid and settle in the oven at 150C for a good hour ...

... go for a walk ...

... back from your walk, raise the temperature to 200C and remove the lid. The initial cooking period will meld all the flavours together, soften the veggies and generally make a gorgeous stew; a wet, gorgeous stew. The second phase will reduce the liquor, concentrate the flavours and bring a subtle roasted flavour to the dish and will take about half an hour.

We're just about ready to eat, so let's look at this fish ...

Hake. It's an ugly brute! Gut and remove the scales. Hake has a set of tough spines top and belly, so watch out as you work. I'd recommend leaving them on, since once cooked, those spines assist in the removal of the skin and the rest of the bone structure.

Head off. Chop straight through the fish, through the backbone, knocking your knife through with a rolling pin. You need a good, strong Chef's knife for this; better, a cleaver.

You'll get four good thick steaks from the front of the fish, the rear can then be filleted along the backbone to release two good tail fillets. We're going to have the thick steaks tonight.

Simply settle the fish into a steamer and steam away for about 15 minutes. Too little and the interior of the fish won't quite be done, nor will the skin and bones slip off. 15 minutes is about right.

Meanwhile, with a little coconut oil in a frying pan, fry off some kale until crispy. My Mrs fancied some chips (pictured), so I made a few, par boiling in the steaming water and shallow frying in goose fat.

Fish ready, simply pull the spines and the skin will remove. If you're lucky, the spine will also come with it and you'll be left with the two sides of the fish still just about held together. You can leave it on the spine and simply remove the flesh as you eat - no issue there.

Plate up ...

Kale in a bowl, Rat alongside, fish over. Chips alongside are optional.

Chicken Liver Parfait

Something for a nourishing starter, snack or just because ...

Chicken Liver Parfait, to give it its proper title, "parfait" the French for "perfect", and it is.

Worried? Yeah, I know ... French cuisine ... posh terms, complex processes; but, you know me ... I'll break it down and show you that it's easy and you really don't need a recipe, just real food, a frying pan and a hand blender.

Let's get to ...

Chicken livers. I used 400g raw, trimming off sinews, green areas (which are bitter) and teasing off anything which looked okay. Net result, possibly 350g of liver. This will make two glasses, as pictured.

Where were we? Livers ... now dice them and gently fry them off in a pan with butter. Real butter. Lovely stuff. Don't colour up the liver, just warm it through until it's not pink any more.

Drop it into a blending receptacle. I have a hand blender, so a Pyrex jug. If you have a food mixer, go nuts.

Flavours ...

I popped in a sprinkle of mixed spice - cinnamon, nutmeg and paprika. Just a little. Sea salt, black pepper and a little more melted butter. Oh, and double cream ... just a smidge.

Blend!

Pass through a sieve. Nah! Don't! First, it's prissy and second, it's pointless.

You're done. Spoon into glasses.

Faffy French side note - you can use a spray of Marsala, Sherry or Brandy just to pep up the mix.

Now we need to seal it ... because we're going to keep it for some time ... yeah, right!

But, do this anyway ...

Melt butter. Pour over. Pop into fridge to chill. The butter will act as a natural barrier to keep the liver parfait just so.

When serving, bring up to room temperature, so the butter can be enjoyed. Hungry primals will pick off the disc of butter, eat it and then plunge unwashed fingers into the parfait. Feel free to use the celery and carrot sticks, or just eat them afterwards.

Perfect, eh? Fuck, yeah!

Cod Steaks ... and a Sort of Deconstructed Ratatouille

Beauty! Sainsbury's do North Atlantic cod steaks, frozen in packs of six for a reasonable price ... and best of all ... they're perfectly rectangular! I had to have some. Sad, I know, but I do like regularity.

From frozen, cooking takes about 30 minutes at 200C giving me plenty of time to dream up an accompanying meal.

I have courgette which really does need using up, some of which went into an impromptu starter of courgette fritters, the rest as ribbons.

I have some of chorizo which has been hanging around for quite literally ice ages; and it goes well with cod, so that's in.

Jersey Royal Potatoes are now in full swing, so that crop I picked up from the local farm shop came in handy. One each.

To complete the flavours, some sourness: tomato ... and a wild garlic pesto.

Looking at what will be on the plate, it might appear intentionally like a deconstructed ratatouille if only there was some aubergine on the plate. Maybe next time I'll do exactly that.

Re-capping all this rambing ...

It's [ingredients] cod over courgette ribbons with chorizo, Jersey Royal Potatoes, tomato and wild garlic pesto. Salt and pepper to taste.

While the cod is cooking, the rest of the meal is easy to cook through and assemble.

Peel, slice boil a couple of potatoes, just enough to cook but remain firm.

In a skillet, gently fry off some chopped chorizo and just before serving, toss the potatoes in the fat.

Shave a courgette into ribbons with a vegetable peeler and lightly steam through for a couple of minutes once the fish is ready.

Slice a tomato through and make up a pesto.

Serve out, scattering the ribbons over the plate, the potato and chorizo over, tomato slices in and amongst, cod as the crowning piece, pesto to garnish.

Wild Garlic Pesto

Literally, a paste, pesto is classically made up from basil, garlic and pine nuts, pounded into a paste.

Pesto can be made from all manner of herbs and nuts to provide a bountiful array of tastes; here, wild garlic and hazelnuts.

Someone has decimated my nearest resource of wild garlic. I'm not pointing a finger, but that patch was very close to a fine restaurant who seem to be making a big deal of the seasonality of wild garlic at the moment ... but I digress.

Reaching one of my other nearby patches, I collected up a little more than I usually do with the intention of making up batches that could be stored as pesto and garlic butter.

Keeping the concept local, I simply blended the wild garlic with hazelnuts, pouring in a little olive oil (perhaps rape seed oil would have been a more "local" thing to do, Yorkshire being the finest producer of rape seed oil, mechanically extracted) and souring with cider vinegar rather than lemon juice. Sea salt and black pepper to taste and you're done.

Bonus idea: Wild Garlic Butter. Simply blend some wild garlic and whip into butter. This can be frozen.

Salmon Consommé

You're right ... posh French cuisine.

Reputed to be a royal pain to make, involving culinary skill gleaned only in the finest kitchens of the finest restaurants, Consommé is the reserve of gastronomes and the rich.

But, it's just stock ...

No, really ... it's just stock.

Sure, it's clarified and elevated to some lofty height, as is all French cuisine, but it's still just stock.

Wanna know how? It ain't that fancy, either ...

So, quick cruise through the supermarket while picking up some cider and I happened upon four decent salmon fillets for £1.89! They're at their "sell by" date, but by no means past their best and at under half price, it was in my basket like a flash!

They'll do for lunches next week.

Home, simply drop the fillets into sufficient water to cover, add a little bouillon in (just buy it powdered and leave all the heavy techniques to those French Chefs, eh? Check the ingredients, mind) and simmer very gently for about 20 minutes.

That's the fillets done. Remove from the liquor, let them cool, cover and place in the fridge until required. They're fine like that for a couple of days.

We have the liquor left ...

Easy enough just to add some veggies and serve as soup. Very good, very flavoursome, very micronutritious!

Better, and so easy, simply sieve the large bits out then pass the liquor through a sieve with a piece of kitchen towel. Pass it again through two sheets and again if you want it really clear.

There you have it: Consommé! No complex, faffy processes ... just Consommé, done well enough.

To serve, you're supposed to pour it really gently over a bowl of perfectly cooked bits and pieces - mushrooms is a popular choice, and if I'd had the foresight to pick up a box of exotic mushrooms, this would have been especially spectacular ... but I didn't, so a bowl of simple Consommé it is.

Naturally, you can do the same thing for bone broths or any boiled, or poached meats.

Voilà! C'est tout.

Spring Garlic Lemon Poussin

Poussin is a young chicken, typically under 28 days old.

You guys over the wrong side of the pond might know Poussin as a small cross-breed of Red Cornish Game Hen, which is about twice the size of a Commonwealth Poussin.

Our chicks weigh in at 400-450g, never exceeding 750g which might make it a Spring Chicken. I guess you guys find your Poussin about that weight.

Anyway, one people divided by a common language ...

We've got birds to cook!

Prep? Simply stuff a lemon wedge into the cavity and gently release the skin to push a good slice of butter up there. Salt and pepper over. Done!

Done? Pretty much ... just bung it in the oven set to 180C for 45 minutes.

Shred an onion and set it in the fridge - this will reduce the pungency of the onion which we'll use later.

After 45 minutes, take the poussin out and set aside to rest.

Skim off the fat from the juices and pour some boiling water over, maybe add a little chicken stock to firm up the flavours.

Squeeze in some lemon juice - this cannot be too lemony, trust me ...

Traditionally, you'd toss in some shredded spring onions, lettuce and peas but I'm doing this a little different: pak choi, the shredded onion and some frozen peas.

Now, the piece de resistance: wild garlic. Three or four good sized leaves shredded and added into the green gravy, flowers scattered over once served.

Serving is simply making a bed of green gravy with the poussin placed over the top, garlic flowers scattered around ...

Consume noisily, hungrily and enjoy every bit of meat and skin you shred from that carcass which you can enjoy, simmered with a touch of cider vinegar as a soothing bone broth the following day.

Crab Bisque

Bisque. Classic French cuisine; a smooth, creamy, highly seasoned soup based on a coulis of crustaceans.

Don't let that panic you ... it's actually pretty easy when done primally.

You need some crab and the shell, preferably a couple. I collected the shells from a couple of Shetland Dressed Crabs, which we enjoyed as they were dressed, mixed with some tinned crab.

You'll also need some onion, carrot and celery (the mirepoix), herbs: bay, thyme and tarragon (the bouquet garni), cayenne pepper, tomato purée, lemon juice, butter and fish stock. Double cream, too. Traditionally, wine and brandy would also be in, but I have neither ... so I went on without.

There ... all those French terms that make those classic dishes seem impossible really are nothing more than adding in real ingredients.

In a pan, soften some butter, a medium onion, a carrot and a stalk of celery finely diced. Drop in the herbs: one bay leave, a couple of sprigs of thyme and a couple of springs of tarragon. You can tie them all together if you like, making them easier to retrieve later.

Put the crab shells in and pour on a good pint of fish stock. Simmer for an hour, during which time all the flavour from the shells should be released into the stock.

Retrieve the herbs and the shells. Traditionally, you'd smash them up and blend the lot at the end passing it all through a sieve, but (a) I don't have a food processor and (b) I'd like all the goodness to end up in the soup, rather than any bits strained off. This is a Primal Bisque!

Now, toss in some crab flesh. I used 250g of canned.

Add a good squirt of tomato purée, a little cayenne pepper, more if you like it really fiery, and some double cream - just enough to lighten the soup without overpowering the flavours. Maybe 150ml?

Bring up to temperature ... not boiling, but hot.

Now blend it. I do have a hand blender, which works perfectly for soups. I added in more butter here which thickens the soup further and a good squeeze of lemon juice to bring out the fullness in all the flavours.

Pour out into a bowl and enjoy. Glad you didn't sieve it now, eh? Of course you are!

As a reminder, if you wanted to make this more traditionally, add in some white wine and brandy, crush the shells, blend the lot in a food processor and strain it through a fine sieve. Have fun!

Salad Niçoisesque

Salad Niçoise is a simple salad of tuna, anchovies, tomato, green beans, potato, boiled egg and olives served with or without leaves.

I had some fresh tuna ... it seemed daft not to ...

As with much French cuisine, this dish has been elevated to such gastronomic height that many consider it out of their reach for preparation in their own kitchen.

Relax ... it's just a salad.

To the ingredients. We have our mandatory list but we can also deviate. I went with tuna, squid, boiled egg, tomato, potato, green beans, capers, black olives, olive oil, lemon juice, sea salt and black pepper.

Green beans? They're fine ... Mark Sissons gives us his usual cool and balanced opinion on the matter.

Okay ... to work ...

Boil your eggs. I simply pour just boiled water over room temperature eggs and let it gently boil for about 10 minutes.

Boil a few salad potatoes. 15 minutes should be fine and in the last five minutes drop in some green beans. Once cooked, drain, retrieve the beans and drop in a good knob of butter and swirl the potatoes around in the butter. Set aside.

Prepare the squid by removing the outer skin, pulling the insides out and separating the tentacles from the head, turn inside out and give 'em a thorough clean under running cold water. Cut into slices and fry off in a pan with just a touch of fat. Set aside.

On a griddle pan, sear the tuna. If you don't have fresh, canned is fine.

In a wide brimmed bowl, drop in a handful of mixed salad leaves, some quartered tomato, black olives, capers, the potatoes (and the butter), quartered eggs, green beans and then the tuna broken up and squids scattered over.

You don't need a fancy dressing, but if you want ... just make up an emulsion of olive oil and lemon juice, salt and pepper. Easier just to slosh some olive oil over, squeeze over some lemon and season to taste.

That's it ... nothing complex, just a simple salad.

Andouillette Sausage

... a pal of mine has been abroad again.

He always brings me back something interesting from the local cuisine, previously I've been handed such delights as smoked reindeer heart and sheep brain "jam", but this time he's been to France and came back with a sausage.

Andouillette Sausage.

ANDOUILLETTE! Not Andouille.

The difference?

Wiki: "Andouillette sausage is very different from the American andouille sausage, which is largely a mild to spicy garlic-flavored sausage. It is closer to French andouille, but is never smoked. Tripe, which is the stomach lining of a cow, is sometimes an ingredient in the filler of an andouillette, but it is not the casing or the key to its manufacture.

True andouillette will be an oblong tube. If made with the small intestine, it is a plump sausage generally about 25 mm in diameter but often it is much larger, possibly 7-10 cm in diameter, and stronger in scent when the colon is used.

There are a number of French versions of andouille produced that generally provide a spicy, smoky, rich, earthy flavor, which may also have a slightly sweet taste.

Andouille sausages are commonly found in many countries. By contrast, true andouillette is rarely seen outside France. All have a strong, distinctive odor related to their intestinal origins and components. Although sometimes repellant to the uninitiated, this aspect of andouillette is prized by its devotees."

So, sausages of pig intestine, perhaps stomach, perhaps colon. Yummy!

What should I serve it with? My gut instinct (get it) is onion boosted sauerkraut with lots of black pepper. Alas, Google is poisoned with "Andouille Sausage" for inspiration, Andouillette being almost impossible to find.

I decided to keep it simple, just cooked, with onion, sauerkraut and mustard, and frites.

After eating, I won't say never again ... but I will say, not for a long time will not be too long a time.

First impressions ...

The smell. Yes, like a pissoir, a public toilet. That Pungent bowel scent which is not altogether off-putting, but certainly not enticing. That is part of the character of the sausage and so I'm going to go with it.

Let's slice bit off and give it a go ...

Not too bad. Initially, Fatty, pungent ... definitely pungent. I thought it might be better cooked, but in retrospect, I think I preferred it cold.

I caramelised an onion and met it with a good helping of sauerkraut and mustard; English, naturally, not that 'orrible French stuff. The sausage is bad enough - let's give it some class!

I fried off the sausage and then put nice rings on it in the grill pan.

Succumbing to French ways and served it with a small portion of fries: potato fries cooked in goose fat. Yes, potatoes, as paleo eaters we are getting the idea that potatoes might not be a bad thing every so often, and fried in goose fat, proper French, that.

Let's eat ...

I got through the first one, skin and all. The second one, I simply cut open and ate the insides ... almost finished it, too, leaving maybe a teaspoon of innards and the skin.

It does take over all your senses - I can smell that smell with everything, taste that taste with everything, but it's again, not absolutely revolting; more a reminder (and not a gentle one, neither) of what I've just eaten. Apparently this will stay with me for the day.

It's not up there with Hákarl (Icelandic putrified shark), but it's not far behind. I could eat it again, quite happily, but much less next time and as a little taste in a much larger dish, perhaps cold ... with an egg salad.

I guess I've earned my AAAAA badge ... Association Amicale des Amateurs d'Andouillette Authentique, roughly: Amicable Association of Admirers of Authentic Andouillette.

Until next time, I'll be happy to admire from afar ...