December 2012

leeks braised in lemon, ginger & toasted pepitas (with haloumi & harissa)

In the spirit of the season that’s in it, and unlike the collective bah-humbug coming from the Irish government, this month’s recipe of the month comes with knobs on, 50% extra free and no tax until at least six months after you’ve used it at least three times.

Besides being in a generous mood, I’ve been thinking about leeks. Staring at them a bit too. For such a fine handsome vegetable, the leek is something of a quiet, unassuming sort, one more likely to play second fiddle than take a solo. That’s how it goes in Paradiso, at least, where the leek is a bedrock of our winter cooking while taking the only the occasional spin in the spotlight. Hence the two recipes, or one and a half.

The first one, the half, as it were, is probably the most common way we cook leeks; you’ll find variations on it in all of the cookbooks and you may or may not know that it is the basis of loads of our gratins and pancake fillings. I’ve demo-ed it a hundred times but was surprised to find that there has been no recipe of the month featuring it. It goes like this:

Chop a pile of leeks into medium dice, put a lump of butter on top and drop the pile head first into a pot that has been heating for a while over high heat; cook and stir for ten minutes, then add some chopped garlic, fresh thyme, dijon mustard and a generous splash of white wine; leave the pot on high heat for five minutes, add a splash of cream and cook five minutes more until the leeks are tender and the liquid is all more or less evaporated.

The resulting pile of sweet, mustardy leeks can be mixed with roasted squash or roots, spinach and cheese, potatoes, aubergines, lentils…not all at the same time, thanks…and used to fill crepes, pancakes, tarts, pastries or to make the base of a gratin. While it is the other ingredients that often take the plaudits in such dishes, without the leek the thing wouldn’t even stand up on stage.

The second recipe is a tad more detailed: it also leaves the leek in a recogniseable state and gives it a higher billing on the plate. Still, it is not so regimental either – the basic technique of braising chunks of leek is open to endless flavourings and finishings. It makes a rich side dish and a very strong part of a tapas selection, and it turns into an elegant starter with very little fuss.