Day 35: utter fabulousness

Today was the day I used leftovers from Nigella’s Spring Chicken (Day 33) to make mini pies (a plan approved by the creator herself on Twitter I might add), and what a wonderful mess I made of it too. I think a two-year old’s play-dough skills are superior to my pastry skills; what’s more, the pastry was already made and rolled, so I had few responsibilities other than to line some small pie tins and cut the lids! Well, even that I managed to make a complete shambles of. Anyway, what they lacked in aesthetic appeal they certainly made up for in taste, and while we may always like our food to look the part – and yes, I did throw a tantrum when my pie assembly failed – the most important thing is that it tastes good and is edible.

With the leftover Spring Chicken - I had already stripped the meat from the bone - I added double cream, some ground allspice, black pepper, a little cornflour (slaked in water) and then heated it through until thick. By the time I finished assembling the pies they looked like big (unfinished) wontons, so I just pressed a disc of puff pastry on top in the hopes it would seal everything in.

Now, for me, nothing else will go with pie except chips and - in fear of being controversial or sounding ungrateful – dare I say it: I do not like super chunky chips, even if they may well be cooked in duck fat. It’s fries all the way for me, although I do like the traditional pub chips, which are neither too thin nor too thick.

I thought for so long about the leftover-filled pies that I gave none to what we’d have with it. I knew I didn’t have any oven fries in the freezer (yes, I usually use frozen fries), and I’ve certainly never (successfully) made my own chips before. Then, in a eureka moment, I recalled Nigella’s Tuscan Fries.

Nigella’s Tuscan Fries

Here, you start the chopped potato sticks in cold oil - and bring to a boil from there - which as it happens goes against everything I was ever taught by mother, and grandmother, about homemade chips: to always use hot oil from the start. I tried countless times at university to make my own chips, never with any kind of success, so to say I was a little nervous – especially after my pie fail – would be an understatement. Every time I’ve tried before they stick together or disintegrate, and then reassemble into a great big amorphous mess.

I panicked throughout the frying time that they were sticking together, but I did know this recipe would have undoubtedly be tested again and again before Nigella even considered publishing it. So, every time I battled with my subconscious urge to shuffle the sizzling potato batons with my tongs, I took comfort and reassurance in this fact and resisted.

When I scooped the now beautifully golden aromatic fries from their oily jacuzzi, I had the biggest smile on my face and an overwhelming sense of relief, and achievement. There was no amorphous mess - in fact, every bit of potato resembled a chip - and nothing was stuck together or burnt.

Flavour musings

These were that good that I didn’t even use vinegar, which to you may not sound medal-worthy, but to me is a big deal; I am that stereotypically British that if I can’t have vinegar with my chips, I would probably rather not have them at all. These aren’t just any fries, these are Nigella’s utterly fabulous, superbly crisp, altogether tremendous Tuscan Fries.

My takeaway lesson here is: patience is key. I have failed previously because I intervened far too early, and far too often, in the deep-frying, which is why I always ended up with a mound of semi-fried mashed potato.

Next time, with fewer nerves, I’m thinking of squeezing the flesh from the deep-fried garlic cloves and making a nice, rich allium-mayo for dipping.