A Kitchen Diary of sorts with rather a lot of chit chat and some exceptionally useful recipes. Photos and artwork by Anna Vaught (me), Giles Turnbull and the generous people at Flickr who make their work available through creative commons. They are thanked individually throughout the blog.

Wednesday 3 June 2009

Coleslaw like they make it down south.

All recipes copyright Anna Vaught.

Now, simple can be best. It can be sublime. It can be (I quote Elizabeth David, here) "the test of a good establishment". I hope I've learned that one properly. Here is a simple simple recipe for coleslaw.

I'm a bit of a devotee of Southern (as in Southern United States) food. You'll see me writing about it a lot here. I'm married to a man from Georgia (possibly you wondered what was connoted by 'Scarlet'?) and you know who is also from Georgia? Why, Damon Lee Fowler: he's my favourite American food writer and I urge you to get your hands on Classical Southern Cooking, in particular. Simple, sensible and wonderful food. And he's really funny. This coleslaw is dedicated to him -- with a little English (Welsh?) twist.

Right: the catch is, you have to make your own mayonnaise. It's not hard but, once you've done it, it's worth it! Then all you need is sea salt and freshly ground black pepper and a smallish cabbage. Experiment with green or white. I like green. And you need a wieldy and very sharp knife. Wot? Nothing else? Nope.

First of all, discard any tattered outer leaves and then slice the cabbage very finely. Damon Lee Fowler, when he writes about coleslaw, says there is no machine which gets the chips fine enough. In my experience in the kitchen. this is borne out. He tells you to sit down! If you want measurements, then think the length of a matchstick and just a little bit wider. So you cut your cabbage into quarters, say, and then get chipping. All you do then, is add your mayonnaise and season to taste. The twist I like, which is not authentically, Southern, is to do what my old daddy would have done, and add a couple of teaspoons of caraway seeds. But no onions or carrots, see?

For the mayonnaise: two egg yolks (large, I reckon): free range.
Oil: here you have a choice, partly dictated by economy. Either, 200 ml of extra virgin olive oil and 100 ml groundnut (you could also use sunflower) or go the whole hog and just use the olive. My mum always did. You could get by without using extra virgin, too, but in a dish with this few ingredients, it's the star.
Nice also to add the juice of one lemon -- but experiment. I've read that Old Southern recipes might add ground cayenne (to taste) and possibly some dried mustard powder -- in which case miss out the carraway 'twist'!
It is best, if you can bear it, to make the mayonnaise by hand, but in practice, here is what I do.
Put the eggs and the salt and pepper (plus the lemon if you are using it) into the blender/processor, then mix for about a minute. Now --keep the machine on-- add the oil in a gentle stream. Slowly. Take your time. Gradually, you'll see it thicken. Test for seasoning. Alchemy! If you have any left over, dip chips (I mean French Fries) into it, possibly having crushed some garlic cloves in there, too. Or hey: why not make double, get everyone else to out, put the garlic mayonnaise in a bowl, make some fries (oven chips are good enough) and then have it all on your lap in front of the telly? With some nice cold beer, maybe? If you think this is a bit slutty, watch something cultural.

To make a complete meal, how about some grilled chicken or salmon? If you are veggie, then it's also good with a bean salad.

A potato salad?

As a side note, my mother made fresh mayonnaise for every potato salad we had at home. It's really best with waxy little potatoes -- new ones. Just scrubbed, boiled, chopped as necessary, annointed with the mayonnaise (use your hands: no need to be coy), seasoned and then you add a handful of chopped chives. If you want to stuff an egg with a bit more of this mayonnaise, you'll have to read tomorrow. Because I just went to what was supposedly a high tea for my young children with my friend and former teacher, Nest. And we had stuffed eggs, proper ham sandwiches, big slices of tomato, a green salad and a pot of tea. And I ate like I had never seen food before. (The boys ate the sandwiches, wrinkled their noses at the eggs and then ate all the cakes in a frenzy. But the Jedis are young and they are foolish.)

1 comment:

Anna Vaught (Mrs Ned) said...

Tomorrow: how to make a stuffed egg? Too twee? When I was served a plate of them, the first time I recall since childhood, I had a little cry.