Well, here's a couple I've not made for a long time, and you even get a dessert to go with whichever you fancy making. They're both quite simple, one's rather refined (not to say posh) and the other's rustic - your choice.
Fillet de boeuf Woronoff does have the disadvantage of being all last-minute, and in theory should be prepared at the table - but as it's unlikely that you own a restaurant and all the associated gear you might want to pass on that. But do choose a nice frying pan, you'll be serving the mess up in it so you don't want to be using the battered old thing you got at a boot sale years back. Something stainless-steel and polished would look rather better.
The other disadvantage is that you'll really have to turn the oven on just to cook jacket potatoes for two. Which may not worry you, but as my oven is big enough to hold two small children it annoys me to fire it up for a trifle. So I would definitely be making dessert as well. On the other hand, Sophie has a typically French, ridiculously small oven, so I don't mind.
Anyway, about an hour before you plan on eating, scrub two largeish potatoes and wrap them in tinfoil with a bit of sea-salt, then put them in the oven to cook. And leave them there whilst you go off and have a drink and nibbles for forty minutes. It's still rosé season over here. Oh, you should also make sure that neither cat nor kids have got to the vodka in the freezer, because you'll want that.
You might also want to decide what you like with your baked jacket potatoes - some people prefer plain sour cream but once at some Microsoft shindig at Lyon I discovered the delights of a very very mustardy vinaigrette sauce instead. I'd suggest you try that - with a couple of teaspoons of whole-grain mustard chucked in for good measure.
OK, you've drunk and chatted, the table is set with gherkins, pickled beetroot slices and buttered rye bread, time to get lunch ready. Assuming that there are just the two of you, you'll need two slices of fillet steak, each about 150 gm. You'll also need 30gm of beurre Café de Paris, which involves the following:
"Mix together the juice and the zest of a lemon, 1 tbsp ketchup, 1 tsp mustard powder, 1 tbsp paprika, 1 tsp curry powder, 1 tbsp Worcester sauce, some capers and a finely chopped shallot, heaps of chopped parsley and chives, a bit of rosemary and thyme, a crushed garlic clove, 1 tbsp of brandy and a couple of anchovy fillets. Set all that aside and leave it to ferment for at least a day before pounding it well and mixing in 900gm of softened creamed butter."
That's the recipe from Henri Pellaprat, anyway - feel free to adapt it to what you have.
Either way, this would probably be something to do ahead of time - I tend to make up a batch, chill it, then roll it out into a log, wrap it in clingfilm and stick it in the freezer until I need it. Which is not, I admit, all that often, although it does go really well with steak.
Having got that out of the way, you take - as I said - 30 gm of the stuff and melt it in your nice shiny frying pan. Then add 30 gm of peeled sliced cucumber, 20 ml of heavy cream and another 20 ml of sour cream. (I never said that this was for people on a diet, did I?) Add salt and pepper and a pinch of sugar, and turn the heat up so it's barely simmering.
At this point, add the two slices of fillet and poach them gently, turning them over from time to time so that they're covered in the sauce. After about 8-10 minutes, they should be cooked but still nicely pink in the centre, which is what we're looking for. Sprinkle with more chopped parsley and serve them right now, from the pan - don't forget to get the jacket potatoes out of the oven as well. And to go with it, get the vodka out of the freezer.
And now for something completely different - lamb chops baked in white wine. For which you'll need a couple of nice thick lamb loin chops per person - which makes four in all. From these you will need to remove excess fat and skin, then you should probably melt a knob of butter in a good cast-iron skillet and when it's foaming, brown the chops on both sides in it. We are not trying to cook them at this stage, just colour them nicely.
When that's done, take them out and deglaze the skillet over high heat with a glug or two of white wine (whatever it is you happen to be drinking at the time would be fine). Pour that lot over the meat. When that's done, add another knob of butter and gently cook a chopped onion until it just starts to go golden. At which point you should turn the heat off, spread the onions out nicely and stick the chops - with their juice - on top.
Have another glass of white before you kiss goodbye to the bottle, as you pour about 150ml over the chops and season them with garlic, thyme and a crumbled bay leaf. Then set all that aside whilst you peel and finely slice four decent-sized potatoes - enough for the pair of you, whatever. Bring a pot of water to the boil, fling in the potato slices (when I said "fling", that was really for dramatic emphasis or something - I did not mean "spatter yourself and partner with boiling water". Had I meant that, I'd have said that. Clear?) and drain them when the water comes back to the boil.
You should now arrange the slices over the lamb chops and perhaps add more wine (shame about the second bottle already) until it just comes up to the level of the potatoes. Now cover the skillet with tinfoil and stick it into a 190°C oven and leave it there, taking time out from drinking to baste once or twice with the juices, until the potatoes are tender.
At which point you can remove the foil, turn the heat up to 220° and leave the thing in there until its gone brown and crusty, just the way God intended it to be. And when it is blessèd, sprinkle with chopped parsley and serve.
I did promise you a dessert, so here goes - a pear tart. If you want the full pedigree it's a "Tarte aux poires à l'angevine", aka "pear tart from Anjou" but as far as I'm concerned that doesn't really matter.
Take - or make - some sweet short pastry. Line a pie dish with it and - in this case - bake blind. Whilst that's going on, you'll need to find some nice ripe pears. Four or five of the suckers. Peel them, cut them into quarters lengthwise and remove the core, then cut each quarter into two (once again, lengthwise). Now fry all those juicy pear bits slowly in butter, sprinkling them with a good dose of sugar (to taste) and a sachet of vanilla sugar (if you happen to have that, if not a bit of powdered vanilla or vanilla essence will do). When they start to go soft and transparent would be a good time to turn the heat off. But if you feel that way inclined you could flambé them with some suitable alcohol as well.
What you now need to do is to spread the pear slices over the pastry case, then pour about 6 tbsp of cream into the pan you fried them in (which should have lots of syrupy bits in it) and bring that slowly back to the boil. When it starts to thicken, pour it over the pears, sprinkle the whole damn lot with sugar (brown, white, red, whatever) and stick it under the grill until it goes nice and golden.
You see? They were all easy, just like I promised. Have fun.
Fillet de boeuf Woronoff does have the disadvantage of being all last-minute, and in theory should be prepared at the table - but as it's unlikely that you own a restaurant and all the associated gear you might want to pass on that. But do choose a nice frying pan, you'll be serving the mess up in it so you don't want to be using the battered old thing you got at a boot sale years back. Something stainless-steel and polished would look rather better.
The other disadvantage is that you'll really have to turn the oven on just to cook jacket potatoes for two. Which may not worry you, but as my oven is big enough to hold two small children it annoys me to fire it up for a trifle. So I would definitely be making dessert as well. On the other hand, Sophie has a typically French, ridiculously small oven, so I don't mind.
Anyway, about an hour before you plan on eating, scrub two largeish potatoes and wrap them in tinfoil with a bit of sea-salt, then put them in the oven to cook. And leave them there whilst you go off and have a drink and nibbles for forty minutes. It's still rosé season over here. Oh, you should also make sure that neither cat nor kids have got to the vodka in the freezer, because you'll want that.
You might also want to decide what you like with your baked jacket potatoes - some people prefer plain sour cream but once at some Microsoft shindig at Lyon I discovered the delights of a very very mustardy vinaigrette sauce instead. I'd suggest you try that - with a couple of teaspoons of whole-grain mustard chucked in for good measure.
OK, you've drunk and chatted, the table is set with gherkins, pickled beetroot slices and buttered rye bread, time to get lunch ready. Assuming that there are just the two of you, you'll need two slices of fillet steak, each about 150 gm. You'll also need 30gm of beurre Café de Paris, which involves the following:
"Mix together the juice and the zest of a lemon, 1 tbsp ketchup, 1 tsp mustard powder, 1 tbsp paprika, 1 tsp curry powder, 1 tbsp Worcester sauce, some capers and a finely chopped shallot, heaps of chopped parsley and chives, a bit of rosemary and thyme, a crushed garlic clove, 1 tbsp of brandy and a couple of anchovy fillets. Set all that aside and leave it to ferment for at least a day before pounding it well and mixing in 900gm of softened creamed butter."
That's the recipe from Henri Pellaprat, anyway - feel free to adapt it to what you have.
Either way, this would probably be something to do ahead of time - I tend to make up a batch, chill it, then roll it out into a log, wrap it in clingfilm and stick it in the freezer until I need it. Which is not, I admit, all that often, although it does go really well with steak.
Having got that out of the way, you take - as I said - 30 gm of the stuff and melt it in your nice shiny frying pan. Then add 30 gm of peeled sliced cucumber, 20 ml of heavy cream and another 20 ml of sour cream. (I never said that this was for people on a diet, did I?) Add salt and pepper and a pinch of sugar, and turn the heat up so it's barely simmering.
At this point, add the two slices of fillet and poach them gently, turning them over from time to time so that they're covered in the sauce. After about 8-10 minutes, they should be cooked but still nicely pink in the centre, which is what we're looking for. Sprinkle with more chopped parsley and serve them right now, from the pan - don't forget to get the jacket potatoes out of the oven as well. And to go with it, get the vodka out of the freezer.
And now for something completely different - lamb chops baked in white wine. For which you'll need a couple of nice thick lamb loin chops per person - which makes four in all. From these you will need to remove excess fat and skin, then you should probably melt a knob of butter in a good cast-iron skillet and when it's foaming, brown the chops on both sides in it. We are not trying to cook them at this stage, just colour them nicely.
When that's done, take them out and deglaze the skillet over high heat with a glug or two of white wine (whatever it is you happen to be drinking at the time would be fine). Pour that lot over the meat. When that's done, add another knob of butter and gently cook a chopped onion until it just starts to go golden. At which point you should turn the heat off, spread the onions out nicely and stick the chops - with their juice - on top.
Have another glass of white before you kiss goodbye to the bottle, as you pour about 150ml over the chops and season them with garlic, thyme and a crumbled bay leaf. Then set all that aside whilst you peel and finely slice four decent-sized potatoes - enough for the pair of you, whatever. Bring a pot of water to the boil, fling in the potato slices (when I said "fling", that was really for dramatic emphasis or something - I did not mean "spatter yourself and partner with boiling water". Had I meant that, I'd have said that. Clear?) and drain them when the water comes back to the boil.
You should now arrange the slices over the lamb chops and perhaps add more wine (shame about the second bottle already) until it just comes up to the level of the potatoes. Now cover the skillet with tinfoil and stick it into a 190°C oven and leave it there, taking time out from drinking to baste once or twice with the juices, until the potatoes are tender.
At which point you can remove the foil, turn the heat up to 220° and leave the thing in there until its gone brown and crusty, just the way God intended it to be. And when it is blessèd, sprinkle with chopped parsley and serve.
I did promise you a dessert, so here goes - a pear tart. If you want the full pedigree it's a "Tarte aux poires à l'angevine", aka "pear tart from Anjou" but as far as I'm concerned that doesn't really matter.
Take - or make - some sweet short pastry. Line a pie dish with it and - in this case - bake blind. Whilst that's going on, you'll need to find some nice ripe pears. Four or five of the suckers. Peel them, cut them into quarters lengthwise and remove the core, then cut each quarter into two (once again, lengthwise). Now fry all those juicy pear bits slowly in butter, sprinkling them with a good dose of sugar (to taste) and a sachet of vanilla sugar (if you happen to have that, if not a bit of powdered vanilla or vanilla essence will do). When they start to go soft and transparent would be a good time to turn the heat off. But if you feel that way inclined you could flambé them with some suitable alcohol as well.
What you now need to do is to spread the pear slices over the pastry case, then pour about 6 tbsp of cream into the pan you fried them in (which should have lots of syrupy bits in it) and bring that slowly back to the boil. When it starts to thicken, pour it over the pears, sprinkle the whole damn lot with sugar (brown, white, red, whatever) and stick it under the grill until it goes nice and golden.
You see? They were all easy, just like I promised. Have fun.
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