Well not really, and not really a recipe, but it certainly helps you feel more human. It’s another Dutch speciality, uitsmijter, which literally means “thrower-out”, or bouncer. It’s traditionally served at the very end of a party as an untypically Dutch way of being polite and telling people to go home.
You will need:
- Some nice sliced bread – typically white sliced but I like Vogel‘s sunflower & barley bread
- Eggs – usually 2 per person, but depends on the size of your bread
- A slice of ham
- A slice of Gouda cheese (any hard cheese will do, including Cheddar or Edam, but young Gouda is the more authentic choice)
- A bit of butter
- A dessertspoonful of vegetable oil in a non-stick frying pan
Heat up the frying pan with the oil in it. Lay the bread on a plate – you can butter it but it’s not usual to do this in Holland, that would be a bit too profligate… Put the ham on the bread first, then the slice of cheese. It has to be this way round so that the hot egg can melt the cheese a bit. Crack the eggs into the frying pan and let them cook until they go brown and frilly round the edge. You can baste the yolks with the oil to get them to set slightly. When they are done to your satisfaction, lift them out of the pan with a fish slice and drain them on some kitchen paper before placing on the cheese/ham/bread you’ve already prepared. This is best accompanied by a large mug of koffie verkeerd and two paracetamol.
I love rhubarb. And the early forced rhubarb that is almost shocking pink is gorgeous, but unless you grow it yourself it’s hugely expensive! This rhubarb came from the allotment of one of Chris’s colleagues, so it’s nice and young but not completely pink, and perfect for jam.
- 1kg rhubarb, wiped, trimmed and chopped into 1cm chunks
- 1kg jam sugar
- 2 or 3 oranges
- 75g stem ginger preserved in syrup
This quantity made four 1lb jars. Put a layer of jam sugar in the bottom of your preserving pan and cover with a layer of rhubarb. Continue layering the sugar and rhubarb, and finish with a layer of sugar. Squeeze the juice from the oranges (should be about 100ml but it’s not a problem if there’s a bit more), and tip it over the sugar and rhubarb mixture. Put the orange peel in the pan as well – you’ll be fishing this out at the end, so don’t bother chopping it up. Chop the stem ginger pieces very finely and add those to the pan. Cover the pan with a clean teatowel and leave it for a couple of hours, or even overnight, to draw out some of the juice from the rhubarb. This helps to keep the rhubarb chunks whole when you’re boiling it up.
When it’s been standing for a while, put it onto the hob and bring to the boil gently. Stir it carefully so that you don’t squash all the rhubarb chunks to mush. When all the sugar as dissolved, turn up the heat to maximum and boil rapidly for about 5 minutes. Test for a set by pouring a bit onto a really cold plate and waiting a minute or so. If you can see the jam wrinkling up when you push your finger through it, then it’s done. If it’s not, then keep boiling it for another few minutes and test again. If it’s done, take it off the heat and leave it to settle for five minutes. Take out the orange peel, then pour the jam into warmed sterilised jars. We have an almost endless supply of empty jamjars thanks to Julie at the Eccles Cakery, who uses industrial quantities of jam for making cakes and gives us all the empties!
This recipe is based on one from the River Cottage Handbook on preserves, which is incredibly useful for all kinds of jam and chutney recipes. I did tweak it quite a bit as the recipe called for forced rhubarb and a quick boil for a soft set, and I’ve made too much runny jam in my life to want to make more on purpose. Rhubarb contains very little pectin, so jam sugar is a must for this.
First attempt used the recipe printed on the box of oranges we got from Waitrose (how middle class are we), but I did hack it around a bit as I don’t like huge amounts of “bacon rinds” in my marmalade. This made 5 1lb jars. If you put all the shreds of orange peel in you’ll probably need 6.
- 1kg seville oranges
- 2 lemons
- 2kg granulated sugar
Wash and dry the fruit. Pour 2 litres of cold water into a large pan (it really does have to be the biggest one you’ve got, it WILL boil over…). Squeeze the juice from the oranges and lemons and add to the water. Scrape out the pips and pith from the oranges with a teaspoon (don’t bother with the lemon) and put it all in a muslin square, tie it up and put in the pan with the juice and the water. Now attack the orange peel. I cut it as fine as I possibly could, and put in only about two-thirds of the bits. If you like chun
kier marmalade then put the whole lot in. Add the peel to the pan, bring to the boil and let it all simmer very gently for 1.5 to 2 hours until the peel is very soft.
Squeeze as much juice from the muslin bag into the pan as you can, and put it to one side. Add the sugar to the pan, bring slowly to the boil so that the sugar dissolves properly, then whack up the heat and boil it rapidly for about 15-20 minutes.
Test it for a set by spooning a small amount onto a cold plate. Leave it for a minute and if the surface is wrinkly when you push it with your finger, then it’s set. If it’s not wrinkly but just runny, boil the marmalade for another few minutes and try again.
Switch off the heat when setting point is reached, and leave it to settle for 15 minutes. This is just enough time to sterilise your jars and lids. Either run them through the dishwasher, or wash them in hot soapy water, rinse well and put them in a low oven for 5 minutes to dry out.
Skim off any scummy stuff on the surface of the marmalade and throw it away. Spoon the rest of the marmalade into the jars and seal with a lid. I don’t bother with wax discs – if the marmalade or jam is still pretty hot, just screw on the lid tightly and turn the jar upside down briefly.
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 small clove garlic, chopped finely
- 1 small onion, chopped finely
- ¼ teaspoon very lazy chili
- 1 x 400 grams can chopped tomatoes
- ½ teaspoon sea salt
- 1 large egg (or 2 eggs if needed)
- 2 teaspoons grated parmesan
- 2 slices bread
Heat the olive oil in a small pan, then add the finely chopped onion and fry it over a low heat until translucent. This should take about 10 minutes. Add the chili and garlic and stir in, cooking for a further minute.
Tip in the tin of tomatoes and stir in the salt, and let it come to the boil. Crack in the eggs and grate a little parmesan over the top. Let it bubble for 5 minutes so that the whites are set and the yolk still runny.
Remove from the heat, taste and add black pepper or a bit of chili powder if it’s not spicy enough, and serve with some really nice bread – toasted soda farls or Vogel’s barley & sunflower loaf are favourites.
NB it is possible to make this without onion and the parmesan, but I think it doesn’t taste quite as punchy without.
This serves 2, but can easily be scaled up.
This recipe is originally from Austria, but we first ate it in the Café Einstein in Berlin.
- 4 eggs, separated into yolks and whites
- 1 cup of milk
- 150g plain flour
- 50 caster sugar
- 2 tbsp icing sugar
- a handful of raisins or sultanas
- 1 tablespoon butter
- Pinch salt
- Plum compote, bottled cherries or stewed rhubarb
Beat egg yolks and caster sugar until fluffy and creamy. Add milk, flour and salt and raisins. Beat eggwhites until stiff and fold into the mixture.
Melt butter in a heavy frying pan and add the mixture, keeping the pan on a medium heat. Once the mixture begins to set, “shred” it into chunks using 2 forks. Place the pan in a preheated oven to set the top quickly. Sprinkle with sifted icing sugar and serve with the fruit compote or bottled plums, heated through and the juice thickened with a little arrowroot if necessary.