Deep Fried Beer

You may remember that I mentioned my trip to Texas in a previous post. Well, one of the main highlights of the calendar in Texas is the annual state fair, held in Dallas - and at the State Fair of Texas, the highlight is the food. And almost all of it is deep fried... from fairly "normal" items such as corn dogs and spiral potatoes, through to more exotic dishes including deep fried twinkies and deep fried butter balls. And in 2010, the award for the most creative food went to fried beer.

This invention, covered in media around the world, consisted of ravioli-shaped pockets of pretzel dough, containing beer (still in liquid form) and deep fried. And even though each piece only contains a mouthful of beer at most, this being America - and deep in the bible belt - you have to be 21 to try one.

I realised, of course, that I had to try making this myself. It's one of those things which has been on my to-do list for ages... somewhere between watching Citizen Kane and painting the windowsills. But finally, the time had come. First I started by preparing the beer filling. I knew that I'd have to somehow set the beer before making the parcels. There were basically two options - freezing the beer, or setting it with a bit of gelatine - but I didn't want to risk the filling of the finished product being either icy or gelatinous. I ended up going for a hybrid approach... a little bit of gelatine, and a short period of time in the freezer. The result was a sort of sticky beer slush.

Next I made the dough out of flour, egg, and crushed pretzels. This stuff was hard to work with, and very hard to roll thin. But eventually I had ten thin discs rolled out, and I was ready to make the parcels. I made five of them, carefully filling each one with the beer goo, and sealing the edges with egg. I put them in the freezer for ten minutes, and then it was time to fry them!

I started by frying a bit of leftover dough to test the oil temperature, and was delighted to find that it tasted delicious... sort of like a crisp, brittle, pretzel flavoured biscuit. I had high hopes for this, and proceeded to fry the dough-encased beer packages.

Unfortunately one of them had sprung a leak, and when the freezing cold beer hit the oil, the thing fucking erupted, spitting out oil in all directions. I was terrified that it was going to catch fire, and I actually started preparing a wet towel to throw over the pan. Luckily it wasn't necessary in the end, and I bravely fished the thing out, through a shower of boiling oil.

Anyway, after a quick sprinkling of salt, it was time to taste them. The casing was nice and crisp, and the beer had fully melted (without being too hot). But how did it taste? Let's just say that if you like the idea of a mouthful of flat beer mixed with hot salty pastry, then this will be right up your street. As long as you don't mind beer spilling everywhere as soon as you bite into it.

Taste

Classification

Gulab Jamun

I love curry houses, I really do. I love the retro kitsch decor, the awful music, the poppadoms with bright yellow sauce, and the overwhelming choice of dishes (which all taste reassuringly familiar). I love the token vegetable sides, the pints of Cobra, and the after-dinner mints.

But one thing I don't love is the desserts. Why on earth do 95% of Indian restaurants have the same awful selection? Lemon sorbet stuffed inside a lemon skin. Coconut ice cream stuffed inside a coconut shell. Pineapple ice cream stuffed inside a hollowed-out pineapple. Kulfi moulded into a "mountain" shape. It's pathetic... and that's coming from someone who loves ice cream. A couple of proper Indian desserts wouldn't be hard to make, and I'm sure they would be top sellers.

Anyway, the other day I was in Asda - I don't often shop there, but happened to find myself on Old Kent Road, so I popped in. And let me tell you, I was pretty impressed. Particularly with the world food section, in which I found this - Gulab Jamun Mix!

Gulab jamun is probably my favourite Indian dessert - they look like little mini doughnuts or dumplings, and are made of... well I'm not really sure what they're made of. But mine were made of water, milk, and gulab jamun mix. You just have to make up the dough, roll it into balls, and deep fry them for a few minutes. The packet says it makes 40 - but I only managed half of that.

When it comes to the syrup, you have to make it yourself - you're on your own. So I made the syrup out of equal quantities of water and sugar, and added cardamon, saffron, and honey. I then dunked the gulab jamun in the syrup, and served ate them warm with some crushed pistachios.

I honestly can't understand why every Indian restaurant up and down the country isn't serving this. It's cheap and quick to make, and tastes absolutely cracking. But no, instead we get the same old crap that's been at the bottom of the freezer for the last 10 yeas. I really wish they would stop insulting us with this rubbish, and give us the real deal.


So onto the ratings. This may be the de facto national dessert of India, but that doesn't change the fact that it is truly filthy. Deep fried dumplings soaked in syrup? You couldn't really make up a less healthy (or more tasty) dish.

Taste

 

Classification

Snakebite Ice Lollies

There are certain gifts I seem to receive every year at Christmas. Socks (boo). DVDs (better). Booze (much better). Chocolate (now we're getting somewhere). But I think it's safe to say that this Christmas was the first time I'd been given one of these...

Guitar shaped moulds... but what for? Jelly? Ice? Little ice lollies? Probably all of the above. But I decided that the latter option would be the most useful.

Given the shape of the moulds, I had to think of a suitably rock n roll flavour for the lollies. So... what is the most rock n roll drink? Jack Daniels? Tequila? Jager? Beer? All wrong - the most rock n roll drink known to man is, without doubt, Snakebite and Black. An ice lolly mixture has to be sweeter and more intense than a drink would be, so I put in more blackcurrant than you'd usually use, and also added a splash of apple juice.

As more observant readers will have noticed, there are moulds for an electric guitar, a bass guitar, and an acoustic. It seemed sensible to eat the electric-guitar-shaped-lolly first, since acoustics are for school kids, grandpas, and dorks like James Blunt. And the bass is for simpletons who can only manage one note at a time.

The next time we get anything resembling Summer weather, I'll be making another batch of these suckers.

Taste

Classification

Easter Eating pt2 - Easter Katsu Curry

Some say that eggs at Easter symbolise new life, and celebrate the resurrection.

Unfortunately I don't believe any of that old cobblers for one second, but I still love Easter. And since we all associate Easter with eggs and chicks and stuff, here's my second Easter dish - the chicken and egg katsu curry.

Katsu curry has become pretty well known in the UK thanks to certain ubiquitous Japanese-style chain restaurants, but I'm prepared to stick my neck out and claim that the chicken and egg katsu curry is a brand new invention!

I took a few chicken thigh fillets and three soft boiled eggs, then dipped them in seasoned flour, then beaten egg, and finally panko breadcrumbs. Then it was time to fry them - I cooked the chicken at a moderate temperature until golden brown, but the egg had to be cooked at full blast for just one minute to ensure it stayed runny.

Most people just make Japanese curry sauce from ready-made sauce "blocks" which, to be fair, is probably the most authentic method. But although it says "hot" on the packet, I can assure you it is anything but. So I spiced mine up a bit with some chilli, garlic, and cumin. I also added some sliced onions and grated carrot, because vegetables cancel out fried chicken.

What better way to remember Jesus and all that stuff?

Taste

Classification

Easter Eating pt1 - Creme Egg and Bacon Sandwich

The internet is awash with recipes featuring Cadbury's Creme Eggs. Of course there are deep fried Creme Eggs (come on, who hasn't had one of those), but also creme egg doughnuts, milkshakes, brownies, and even creme eggs benedict (I really, really wish I'd thought of that first). It was a real challenge to come up with an original recipe, but I think I've done it. I give you, the creme egg and bacon sandwich.

No ordinary bread would have sufficed for this sandwich. I used french toast - two slices of white bread, soaked in egg, and fried until brown and crispy. And then spread with a generous layer of peanut butter.

I used streaky bacon, because it crisps up much better than back bacon. I brushed the slices with lots of maple syrup, and put them under a hot grill until ultra crispy.

Finally the egg. I simply chopped it up, melted it down, and then poured it over the bacon.

I was a bit concerned about the combination of bacon and sickly sweet creme egg - despite the fact that bacon desserts/cakes seem to be all the rage these days. But to tell you the truth I could hardly taste the bacon through all the sweet stuff, apart from a hint of saltiness. Which I decided was probably a good thing.

Taste

Classification

Weekend in Iceland

My little corner of South London has seen it's fair share of change over the last few years. Scruffy old man's pubs were slowly turned into bars and gastropubs. Cafes, delis and boutiques sprung up. A posh butcher and a fishmonger arrived, and familiar chain stores started to move in. And now, it looks like the long standing Iceland store is going to be transformed into an M&S "Simply Food", sparking much debate in the local community.

On one side of the fence, you can almost hear people gleefully rubbing their hands with the smug anticipation of rising house prices. Not to mention the prospect of loading up on seafood paella, "gastropub" chunky chips, superfood salads, and Belgian chocolate melt-in-the-middle puddings on their way home from work. None of these items, as far as I am aware, are available from Iceland. But others argue that Iceland is a valuable resource for those of us with less cash to spare.

I admit, I hadn't been inside the store in well over ten years. The only occasion I could remember was when I first arrived here, and I emerged with three packets of biscuits and some paper plates. But although I'm not a regular Iceland customer, I probably won't use the new M&S all that much either... so I'm open minded about the change. I decided to pay another visit to Iceland before it disappeared, so I could see what I'll be missing.

The in-store Experience

The shop has obviously not been updated in at least 25 years, the beige tiles and abundant orange trim are guaranteed to put off the chattering classes and image conscious young professionals. The front of the store has a small section of fresh fruit, veg and dairy, but this looked similar to any other supermarket, and the prices seemed no lower. This was not the reason for my visit. I walked over to the expansive frozen foods section... this was the stuff.

"Excuse me," I said meekly to an employee (with a strange residue around her mouth, as if she'd been drinking Yop straight from the bottle). "Where can I find the chicken tikka lasagne"?
"I dunno. Where do you normally find it?" came the rather bizzare answer.

Eventually I found what I was looking for, and also picked up a few other items that tickled my fancy. A doner kebab pizza. Microwavable chicken strips. Sweet and sour chicken (with rice) for one. Despite the fact that the store was almost deserted, the checkout queue was pretty slow as there was only one till open. But eventually I left the store with enough food for the weekend, for a grand total of £3.75. You would be hard pushed to buy a single meal in M&S for that sort of money.

Chicken Tikka Lasagne

I was getting hungry, and decided to start with the signature dish, chicken tikka lasagne. Despite the unsavoury memory of Kerry Katona advertising this on TV, I eagerly stuck it in the microwave for the recommended duration. It came out looking rather anemic, so I put it under the grill for a couple of minutes, and turned it out onto a plate.

First of all, any curry lover can see straight away that this does not even vaguely resemble chicken tikka. What we have between the layers of pasta is bog standard chicken curry, which would probably be fine as a jacket potato topping, for instance. But curry with cheese sauce is not a combination I would have personally put together (and that's saying something). Still, it is not as unpleasant as popular opinion would have you believe, and I actually ate most of it.

Taste

Amount Completed

Microwavable Chicken Strips

I was particularly cynical about this one. You simply pop open the box, and stick it in the microwave for three minutes. Surely they couldn't possibly emerge crispy? And guess what - they didn't. They came out limp, soggy, and chewy.

The reformed chicken pieces had the texture of polystyrene coated in porrige. I was reminded of the damp microwave chips my Mum used to give us as an after school "treat". They were a bad idea, and so was this. I only managed to eat 1 piece.

Taste

Amount Completed

Doner Kebab Pizza

This one actually sounded like something I might want to eat. I had a renewed enthusiasm for the doner kebab after my recent attempt at making my own, and saw no reason why it couldn't work on top of a pizza.

The pizza was of the "deep pan" variety, with an inch thick base of stodgy bread. It felt strangely nostalgic - this is the kind of food I was raised on. I guess that explains a lot. But it also reminded me how much British food has improved over the last 20 years. The cheese had the texture of melted cheese, but tasted of nothing. The doner kebab pieces, even when sampled in isolation, had only the faintest hint of meaty flavour. But still, it doesn't feel right to judge this on flavour. It's a big slab of food, that will fill almost anyone up for only £1.

I only finished half of it - I could have eaten more, but there didn't seem any point.


Taste

Amount Completed

Sweet and Sour Chicken

We eat Chinese food in our house several times a week. Even though sweet and sour chicken is not exactly Chinese food... I felt well qualified to judge this one. Considering the ridiculously low price, I was impressed to find that there were no reformed meat pieces in sight - this contained actual chicken (even if it had a texture of meat which has already been chewed and partially digested). There were also quite a few bits of vegetable in there which had somehow managed to remain chrunchy, despite being encased with orange gunk and buried in the freezer cabinet for the past year.

The first couple of mouthfuls didn't taste too bad, but after that, the overriding syrupy sweetness became a bit much. But I was hungry, and had neglected to buy any real food, so ended up eating over half of it.

Taste

Amount Completed

So, will I be visiting Iceland again any time soon? Unlikely. But I can see why people might use it when the food is this cheap. Of course, it helps if you don't really care what it tastes like.

Classification

Cheesesteak

It's not a cheese steak. It's a cheesesteak. Just one word. Don't ask me why, I guess Americans struggle a little bit with their spelling. I've never actually had a proper cheesesteak, but next time I'm in America, it's right at the top of my list. But in the meantime, here's my effort.

For the best combination of flavour and tenderness, there's only one type of steak to use, and that's ribeye. I sliced it thinly by partially freezing it, and then cutting it diagonally with a sharp knife. Then quickly fried the slices for around 3 minutes.

I piled up the steak inside a large sub roll, put some slices of cheese on the top, and microwaved it for 20 seconds to melt the cheese. A little mustard, a little mayo, and you have a breakfast lunch fit for champions.

A damn expensive sandwich... but worth every penny.

Taste

Classification