Devilled Mushrooms on Toast, Downton Abbey, and devilish old recipes

With the second series of the smash-hit British costume drama Downton Abbey now showing in the United States, and the first about to start in South Africa, I won't be at all surprised to see a revival of interest in the dishes so well-loved at Edwardian and Victorian tables. The first series begins with a grand breakfast, the sort that featured kedgeree, devilled kidneys, kippers, bacon and all the delights once found on the tables of the landed gentry. I don't need any encouragement to eat kedgeree or devilled eggs (my mum often made these wonderful Ango-Indian foods for me as a child) but I draw the line at kidneys, which I have never been able to stomach.  Mushrooms are a good substitute because they soak up flavours so eagerly, and they even look a little like tiny kidneys.

Devilled Mushrooms on Toast

I enjoyed watching Downton Abbey on DVD and (although the life of the downstairs drudges and scullions is painted with a ludicrously rosy brush)  particularly enjoyed the closely observed period details of an Edwardian kitchen. The food excited me too (food always excites me) and I looked forward to every scene featuring the redoubtable Mrs Patmore, Downton Abbey's cook.

But back to the devilling. The word 'devil' - in the context of spicing up a dish with cayenne pepper or a similar heating agent - was first used in print in 1787,  when it appeared in The Lounger, a British periodical, but it was only in the 19th century that it become a commonplace term for describing food that had been grilled or fried, then highly seasoned with salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, mustard, mushroom ketchup, vinegar, Worcestershire sauce and so on.

Alan Davidson's The Oxford Companion to Food mentions that James Boswell, Dr Johnson's biographer, frequently refers to partaking of  'devilled bones' for supper. These sounded intriguing, but after an exhaustive search of Boswell's books - at least the ones that have been digitised - I couldn't find a single reference to the writer gnawing on spicy bones. I did discover with relief, though, that 'bone' in this context meant a devilled joint of meat, not a dry rib or femur or the like.

Besides meat, all sorts of other foods were devilled at the height of the craze: chicken, turkey, goose, game birds, almonds, walnuts, tomatoes, chestnuts, lobster, prawns, crab, and even ship's biscuits. In A New System of Domestic Cookery (1808), Maria Rundell offers this recipe:

'Butter captain's biscuits on both sides, and pepper them well; make a slice of cheese into a paste with made mustard, and lay it on upon one side; sprinkle cayenne pepper on the top, and send them to be grilled. This may be varied by the addition of chopped anchovies, or the essence, diavolo paste, or Chetney.'

(And this sent me off on another wild goose chase to find out how to make 'diavolo paste'. It's mentioned in several early cookbooks, but I couldn't find recipe for it. I assume it was a sort of hot chilli paste.) An 1825 description of devilled woodcock that delighted me was this one (not least because it contains all the ingredients for the dish!) :

'If I be inclined to be luxurious, give me devilled woodcock—cayenned—curry powdered—truffled—madeiraed—Seville-oranged—catsupped—soyed...  in a silver stew-pan, saturated with its piquant juice, and gently liquefied with the huile of Aix, a city of oil and amphitheatre. It is heavenly. '

(John Wilson, from Noctes Ambrosianæ) 

Add some sliced chorizo sausage to this dish to lift
it to another spicy level.

So: my devilled mushrooms.These are quite delicious on thin, crisp hot toast, which I  make by sizzling slices of baguette in a buttered sandwich press.

The mushrooms are not terribly hot, so feel free to spice them up with extra cayenne pepper or Tabasco sauce, or even some chopped fresh chillies.

These is very good topped with a few slices of good chorizo that have been fried in a hot pan.

---

Devilled Mushrooms on Toast

500 g button or portabellini mushrooms
3 Tbsp (45 ml/45 g) butter
1 clove garlic, peeled and crushed
½ tsp (2.5 ml) chilli powder, or more, to taste
½ tsp (2.5 ml) paprika
4 tsp (20 ml) Dijon mustard
juice of a lemon
a few drops of Worcestershire sauce
salt
milled black pepper
½ cup (125 ml) cream
chopped fresh parsley
1 chorizo sausage (optional)

Fry the mushrooms in the butter over a medium heat for 5-6 minutes, or until just golden. Stir in the garlic, chilli powder, paprika, mustard, lemon juice and Worcestershire sauce. Season with salt and pepper and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, or until almost all the liquid has evaporated. Stir in the cream and let the mushrooms bubble until the sauce has thickened slightly. Serve over hot toast with a sprinkling of chopped fresh parsley.

If you're using chorizo, slice it and fry it in a little oil, in a separate pan, for a minute or two, or until lightly browned. Drain on kitchen paper.

Serves 4 as a snack.

Print Friendly

Salmon, Rice, Egg & Dill Pie with Lemon-Caper Butter

This homely pie is similar to traditional Russian coulibiac or kulebyáka, but I like to think of it as a kedgeree-in-pastry, as it has all the elements that make that famous Anglo-Indian dish so tempting: soft flakes of fish, hard-boiled eggs, creamy rice and plenty of fresh parsley and dill, with a tingle of black and cayenne pepper.

Salmon, Rice, Egg & Dill Pie with Lemon-Caper Butter

Cut the pastry into a fish shape!

This dish is quite easy to make using shop-bought puff pastry, although I have to admit that the fish shape is a bit fiddly to make. If you're put off by the idea of such cheffiness and frippery, make the pie in a simple rectangle.

The sauce of melted butter and capers is wickedly indulgent (I am enslaved by melted butter), but you can leave it out if you're watching calories: instead, make a cool sauce of equal parts good mayonnaise and thick Greek yoghurt, plus chopped capers and lemon zest and juice.

I used lightly smoked local trout  (see my previous recipe for Potted Trout) but you can use a fresh fillet of salmon, or smoked salmon or trout.   Or you could use your favourite smoked fish, such as lovely local smoked snoek, as I do in my favourite version of kedgeree.

Important note: I use still-raw lightly smoked trout that needs three to four minutes' poaching time. If you're using ordinary salmon, you will need to poach it for a little longer; that is, until it's just soft and beginning to flake, but still quite rare within. If you're using thin slices of smoked salmon or proper smoked trout, or smoked snoek, there's no need to poach the fish first.

Shop-bought puff pastry works very well, but do buy the best you can afford (I always use Woolworths pastry, because it's flop-proof, light and flaky, and doesn't taste like margarine, solidified whale fat, or any other such horrors).

---

Salmon, Rice, Egg & Dill Pie with Lemon-Caper Butter

¾ cup (190 ml) uncooked rice (plain Tastic, or basmati if you want a bit of perfume)
¾ cup (190 ml) cream
2 Tbsp (30 ml) soft butter
4 large free-range eggs (or five; see recipe)
350 g lightly smoked trout, or a fillet of fresh salmon
a thin slice of lemon, peel on
two rolls of good puff pastry, thawed
a handful (about a third of a cup; 80 ml) of chopped fresh dill
a handful of chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 tsp (5 ml) cayenne pepper, to taste
the zest and juice of a large lemon
salt and freshly milled black pepper
a beaten egg, for brushing

For the sauce: 
¾ cup (190 ml) salted butter
a handful of capers, well drained
the juice of a lemon

To serve:
lemon wedges
sprigs of fresh dill

Put the rice in a pot and cover with cold water to a depth of two fingers (or follow the instructions on the packet). Add a pinch of salt and boil over a moderate heat until  just tender. Drain the rice very well, return it to the pot and stir in the cream and butter. Season with salt and pepper and set aside.

Put the eggs in a saucepan, cover with cold water and bring quickly to the boil.  Turn down the heat and simmer for six or seven minutes, or until they are hard enough to peel easily, and the yolks are just set. (It's a good idea to cook an extra egg, so you can open it to check for doneness.)  Remove the eggs from the heat, place the pan in the sink and douse in cold water. Let the tap trickle into the pot for a few minutes; this will prevent a dark ring from forming around the yolks. (Thank you Michael Olivier for this tip.)

Put the trout or salmon in a pan, cover with very hot water, add the lemon slice and poach for 3-4 minutes, or longer (see my notes above). Remove the fish with a slotted spoon and allow to cool slightly on a plate.

Heat the oven to 190ºC.

Now prepare the pastry. Place two large sheets of clingfilm, slightly overlapping, on your kitchen counter. Put one sheet of puff pastry on top. Lightly roll out the pastry. Using a sharp knife, cut out a large fish shape (see photograph below), but don't cut too close to the edges of the pastry sheet (this is the base of the pie, and is slightly smaller than the top sheet). Lay out another two sheets of clingfilm and on them roll out the second sheet of pastry.  Now place the first, fish-shaped pastry (carefully pick it up by grasping the long edges of the clingfilm) on top of the second sheet.  Cut out another fish shape, using the first as a guide, but make this second shape about 10 mm bigger on all sides. (If this doesn't make sense to you, send me an email!). Set both sheets aside.

Stir the dill, parsley, cayenne pepper, lemon zest and lemon juice into the cooled rice and season, if necessary, with more salt and black pepper.  Take three-quarters of this mixture and spread it over the smaller sheet of pastry, leaving a gap of 10 mm all around the edges. Remove the skin, if any, from the fish, pull it into large flakes and arrange it on top of the rice. Peel the eggs, cut them into sixths and arrange them neatly in between the fish pieces. Sprinkle with a little extra lemon juice, salt and black pepper, plus more cayenne pepper, to taste. Now lightly pat the remaining quarter portion of rice on top, to fill any gaps between the egg and salmon pieces. Scatter with a little more finely chopped parsley and dill, and a squeeze of lemon juice.

Using a pastry brush, brush beaten egg all the way round the edges of the pastry. Lift the bigger piece of pastry and place it carefully on top. You may need to stretch this top layer slightly. Seal the edges, either by pressing them together firmly, or by folding up the lower edge in small pleats. Make a decorative border by pressing the tines of a fork into the pastry's edges. Make a big eye and mouth for your pastry using the off-cuts of pastry, and use the rim of a small shot-glass to create a fish-scale effect. With the edge of a metal spatula, mark the tail of the fish. Poke a few small slits in the pastry, using the tip of a sharp knife, so steam can escape. Brush beaten egg all over the pie.

Using two metal spatulas (you may need an extra pair of hands here) gently slide the pie onto a baking sheet lined with baking paper. Bake at 190ºC for 20-30 minutes, or until the pie is puffed, golden brown and flaky.

In the meantime, make the sauce. Melt the butter and stir in the lemon juice and capers.

Serve piping hot, with lemon wedges and sprigs of fresh dill, and pass the lemon-caper butter around in a small jug.

Serves 8. 

Print Friendly

Creamy Snoek Kedgeree: A Taste of the Cape, with no fake hake

This famous English breakfast dish, a classic of Anglo-Indian cookery, is so easy to make, although it requires good ingredients and some attention to detail. A good kedgeree should, I think, be luxuriously buttery and creamy, and contain plenty of very fresh parsley, a touch of curry powder and a sparkle of lemon. Dry rice, over-boiled eggs or - shudder - gluey pre-frozen fish chunks will put your family off it forever.

I love kedgeree, but rarely make it, because the 'smoked haddock' that we get here in South Africa is awful. In fact, it's not haddock at all, but hake with a fake tan. Incredibly, it's perfectly legal for South African manufacturers to pass off dyed hake as smoked haddock.

'A retail scam' is what consumer journalist Wendy Knowler calls this: 'Both the Department of Health and the SA Bureau of Standards permit the industry to refer to the dolled-up hake as haddock in large print on the front of their packs, as long as the word hake appears in the small print list of ingredients,' writes Knowler in her exposé of this villainous practice.

An excellent alternative to haddock in a kedgeree is smoked snoek. Snoek, a time-honoured staple of Cape cuisine, is delicious when properly smoked; it's inexpensive, sustainable and has an agreeable flaky texture.  Curiously, despite its abundance, snoek isn't something you often see featured on Cape restaurant menus: in this interesting article about snoek, Hilary Prendini-Toffoli explains why.  (And at the end of that article, you'll find four excellent snoek recipes from two of South Africa's best-loved cookery writers, Carmen Niehaus and the late Lannice Snyman).

Living near to Hout Bay harbour as I do, all I need do is nip down to Mariner's Wharf for a pack of their famous oak-smoked snoek, but you might struggle to find it if you live upcountry. It's available in some of the bigger supermarkets, and you can also ask your local fishmonger to order it for you.

My kedgeree contains just a hint of curry powder (Rajah Medium Curry powder has the right, generic taste) . Don't be tempted to add more spice, or you'll overwhelm the delicious parsley-egg-rice flavours. I use plain old Tastic rice, for its bland, milky flavour. Don't skimp on the cream.

Creamy Snoek Kedgeree
300 g smoked snoek, bones removed, and flaked
2 cups (500 ml) uncooked rice
6 cups (1.5 litres) water, for cooking the rice
1 tsp (5 ml) salt
6 extra-large free-range eggs
4 Tbsp (60 ml) butter
a large onion, peeled and very finely chopped
2 tsp (10 ml) medium-strength curry powder
4 Tbsp (60 ml) water
1½ cartons (375 ml) cream
1 tsp (5 ml) finely grated lemon zest
½ cup (125 ml) finely chopped fresh parsley
the juice of a large lemon
salt and milled black pepper
a pinch of cayenne pepper or chilli powder

Painstakingly sift through the snoek flakes with your fingertips to remove any small bones. Set aside.

Put the rice, water and salt in a pan and switch on the heat. Boil over a medium-high heat for 15-20 minutes, or until the rice is cooked. Drain and set aside.

Boil the eggs for 9 minutes, or until the yolks are just cooked.  Run cold water over the eggs, at a slow trickle from the tap, for a few minutes. When the shells are cool, peel the eggs. Chop four of them into small cubes, and cut the remaining two eggs into wedges, for a garnish. Set aside.

Heat the butter in a large saucepan, add the onions and a pinch of salt and cook gently for four to five minutes, or until they are soft and translucent. Stir in the curry powder and cook for another minute. Now add 60 ml water, turn up the heat, and bubble for another two minutes. Turn down the heat.

Tip the cooked rice into the pan and add the cream, flaked snoek and lemon zest, stirring well to combine. When the mixture has gently heated through, add the parsley, chopped egg and lemon juice and season well with salt and pepper. Tip the kedgeree on to a warmed platter and top with the reserve egg wedges. Serve immediately, with a dusting of cayenne pepper.

Serves 6 Print Friendly