
Chef Thomas
Cauliflower Cheese
A whole cauliflower blanketed in strong, mustardy cheese sauce, baked until the top blisters gold and the kitchen smells like the kind of evening where nothing else needs doing.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by Chef Thomas
A Shropshire harvest pie where salt gammon meets sharp Bramley apples and sweet onions under a butter crust, with a splash of cider holding it all together. The kind of cooking that trusts the calendar.
September. The Bramleys are falling off the tree faster than I can use them, which is the best problem a kitchen can have. The air has turned. Not cold yet, but the evenings draw in earlier and the kitchen light goes amber by six. This is fidget pie weather.
It's a Shropshire dish, old and unfashionable, the kind of thing that was packed into baskets and carried to the fields at harvest time. Gammon, apples, onions, cider, pastry. Nothing clever. The name probably comes from "fitchett," an old word for a side of bacon, though nobody seems entirely sure and it hardly matters. What matters is that it works: the salt of the gammon against the sharp collapse of Bramley apple, sweetened onions binding the two together, and a good crust holding the lot in place while the cider turns to a thin, cidery sauce underneath.
I make it every year when the apples come in. The notebook says: "Fidget pie. First Bramleys. Kitchen smelled of cider and nutmeg. Ate too much." That's the whole review. I've cooked more sophisticated things in thirty years of writing about food, but few that felt as right as this one does on the right evening. A recipe is a conversation, not a contract, and this one has been going on for centuries between orchards and kitchens and people who needed feeding.
It asks very little of you. Make a simple pastry. Pile everything in. Trust the oven. There are few better feelings than carrying a golden pie to the table and cutting into it while someone watches.
Quantity
250g
Quantity
125g
cubed
Quantity
pinch
Quantity
3-4 tablespoons
Quantity
300g
cut into rough 2cm pieces
Quantity
2 large (about 400g)
Quantity
2 medium
halved and sliced
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
150ml
Quantity
small bunch
roughly chopped
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
generous grating
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
knob
Quantity
1
beaten, for glazing
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| plain flour (pastry) | 250g |
| cold unsalted buttercubed | 125g |
| fine sea salt (pastry) | pinch |
| cold water | 3-4 tablespoons |
| unsmoked gammoncut into rough 2cm pieces | 300g |
| Bramley apples | 2 large (about 400g) |
| onionshalved and sliced | 2 medium |
| plain flour (filling) | 1 tablespoon |
| dry cider | 150ml |
| fresh parsleyroughly chopped | small bunch |
| fresh thyme leaves | 1 teaspoon |
| nutmeg | generous grating |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
| butter | knob |
| eggbeaten, for glazing | 1 |
Tip the flour and salt into a large bowl. Add the cold butter and rub it in with your fingertips until the mixture looks like rough breadcrumbs. Some larger flakes of butter are fine; they'll give the pastry its flake. Add the cold water a tablespoon at a time, cutting it in with a butter knife until the dough just comes together. Don't overwork it. Gather it into a flat disc, wrap in cling film, and rest it in the fridge for at least thirty minutes. The pastry needs to be cold when it goes into the oven. That's not optional.
Peel, core and slice the Bramleys into pieces roughly the thickness of a pound coin. They'll break down in the oven, which is what you want. Toss the gammon pieces, apple slices and onions together in a bowl. Add the tablespoon of flour and turn everything through it with your hands. This thickens the juices as the pie cooks. Scatter in the parsley, thyme, a generous grating of nutmeg, and some pepper. Go easy on the salt; the gammon brings its own. Taste a sliver of the raw apple. If it's very sharp, you're in good hands. That sourness is what makes the pie work.
Set the oven to 190C/170C fan. Roll out two thirds of the pastry on a floured surface and use it to line a deep pie dish, roughly 23cm across. Let it hang over the edges a little. Pile the filling in, mounding it slightly in the centre so the lid has something to sit on. Dot the top with a few small pieces of butter. Pour the cider over slowly, letting it find its way down through the filling. Roll out the remaining pastry for the lid, lay it over, and crimp the edges firmly with a fork or your fingers, whatever comes naturally. Cut a small slit in the top to let the steam out. Brush with beaten egg.
Bake for forty-five to fifty minutes, until the pastry is a deep, committed gold, not pale, not merely done, but properly bronzed and smelling of butter and cider and something faintly sweet from the apples inside. The filling will be bubbling gently through the steam hole. Let the pie rest for ten minutes before you cut into it. The first slice will be untidy. They always are. The filling will be soft and savoury, the apple melted into a sauce that clings to the gammon, the onions sweet and yielding. This is honest food. It doesn't need to be neat.
1 serving (about 280g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Thomas
A whole cauliflower blanketed in strong, mustardy cheese sauce, baked until the top blisters gold and the kitchen smells like the kind of evening where nothing else needs doing.

Chef Thomas
Homemade shortcrust pastry holding soft, sweet onions and strong cheddar in a pie that belongs to cold evenings, warm kitchens, and the quiet satisfaction of making something simple properly.

Chef Thomas
A Lancashire pie of layered potatoes and strong cheese under a butter pastry crust, baked until the kitchen smells of the kind of evening where you don't answer the door.

Chef Thomas
Chicken thighs and sweet leeks braised in a gentle, mustardy cream, tucked under golden puff pastry and baked until the top shatters at the touch of a spoon. A midweek pie that asks very little and gives back everything.