Whole cotta love
AS our summer gets off to a rather inconsistent start – no news there – our own native ingredients begin to slowly appear on the shelves.
It’s lovely to see home-grown stuff in the shops and supermarkets, and I’m glad of the recent resurgence in the championing of great British ingredients because when we’re on top of our game, we grow some of the most wonderful and unique food available, some of which is the envy of the world.
January and February gave us the wonderful, if brief, Yorkshire rhubarb season, and those little stalks went flying around the world to appear on the tables of some very swanky joints, I can tell you.
New York, Tokyo, Paris; everyone wanted some of that unmistakeable pink delight, grown right there, just outside Castleford.
And now, as we approach the end of May, two of the ingredients we should be so proud of are reaching their maximum potential. Next week, we’ll be turning our attention to the delights of British asparagus (along with its great friend, the Jersey Royal potato – also approaching its high season), but this week it’s the great British strawberry.
So, what to do with strawberries? Well, I’m a bit fussy, to be honest. I don’t personally find the combination of chocolate with strawberries remotely appetising, I’m afraid. I’m quite happy to swim against the tide on this one – I think it masks the fruit flavours of the strawberries and stops the chocolate from melting in that slow, luxurious way it was made to do.
I’ll maybe allow the more neutral white chocolate a pass here – mousses and ice-creams seem to work well, but ‘proper’ chocolate is a non-starter in my kitchen. No, I like to keep it simple, showing off the fruit at its piquant, perfumed best.
And that essentially means doing very little to it. Often I’ll macerate sliced or diced strawbs with a splash of lemon or lime juice and a pinch of sugar to make a fresh compote for spooning over cake-y things or mousses and creams. Jellies, too, are a great way to capture the fruit at its ripest.
But today I’m going full-on retro, making a classic panna cotta, that reliable 1990s pud, albeit one made with a little buttermilk, introducing a sharp element which sits well against the sweet fruit.
I’m roasting a few strawberries, too, to concentrate the sugars (adding a little jammy note) and offer a textural contrast.
And regular readers will know that I like a cereal-y baked element to my fruity dishes usually, and here’s no exception. To complement the retro nature of the panna cotta, I thought of going straight to the classic accompaniment, the brandy snap.
Once you’d see them all over the place (especially in Grandma’s biscuit tin) but they appear to have fallen out of favour somewhat, which is a shame.
That crisp / chewy combination with a prickle of sweet ginger is absolutely ideal for sitting alongside our beautiful British strawberries and cool, creamy cotta.