
Chef Thomas
Anchovy Sauce
A proper white sauce sharpened with pounded anchovy, the old Georgian trick for waking up a piece of poached fish or a slice of roast lamb on a Sunday in spring.
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Created by Chef Thomas
The deeply savoury liquor left behind after a gammon joint, given a second life with its own bone and a few honest aromatics, into the one stock that makes a pea and ham soup taste like itself.
There's a quiet moment the morning after you've boiled a gammon. The kitchen still smells faintly of smoke and sweetness. The meat has been carved, some of it eaten, the rest wrapped and pushed to the back of the fridge. And on the hob, in a big pot, sits the cooking liquor with the bone half-submerged in it, looking like nothing much. This is where most people make their only mistake of the evening. They pour it away.
Don't. This liquor is the closest thing home cooking has to gold. Amber, smoky, deeply savoury, already seasoned for you by the gammon itself, it wants nothing more than an hour or two of gentle attention to become the best stock you've made in a long time. Drop the bone back in. Add an onion, a carrot, a bay leaf. Let it simmer. That's the whole recipe.
The finished stock has one obvious destination: pea and ham soup, thick and green and tasting of winter. But it makes a lentil soup sing, it turns a pot of white beans into something worth sitting down for, and a mugful with a knob of butter and a grating of pepper is a quiet, salty comfort on a cold afternoon when you haven't worked out what to eat yet. I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: 'Boxing Day stock. Never throw it away.' I still think that's one of the more useful sentences in there.
One warning. Don't salt it. Ever. The gammon has already done that for you, in quantities you didn't agree to. Taste as you go and remember that this is a stock that wants to be diluted into other things, not sipped neat.
Quantity
1
with any clinging meat and skin
Quantity
about 2 litres
Quantity
1 large
halved, skin on
Quantity
1 large
roughly chopped
Quantity
1 stick
roughly chopped
Quantity
1
green part only
Quantity
2
Quantity
small handful
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
to top up if needed
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| gammon bonewith any clinging meat and skin | 1 |
| reserved gammon cooking liquor | about 2 litres |
| onionhalved, skin on | 1 large |
| carrotroughly chopped | 1 large |
| celeryroughly chopped | 1 stick |
| leek top (optional)green part only | 1 |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| parsley stalks | small handful |
| black peppercorns | 1 teaspoon |
| cold water | to top up if needed |
Set the pot with the cooking liquor and the bone back on the hob, or tip everything into a clean stockpot if it's easier. You'll see a layer of fat on the surface, golden and glossy. Skim as much of it off as you reasonably can with a large spoon or ladle. Don't fuss about catching every last trace. A little fat in a stock is flavour; a thick slick is grease.
Drop the onion halves in, skin and all. The papery skin gives the stock a deeper colour and a roundness it doesn't get from peeled onions. Add the carrot, celery, leek top if you have one, bay leaves, parsley stalks, and peppercorns. The bone goes back in if it isn't already there. Top up with cold water if the liquid doesn't quite cover everything. You want it all submerged, not drowning.
Bring the pot up to just below a simmer. You're looking for the occasional lazy bubble breaking the surface, not a rolling boil. A hard boil pulls the fat back into the stock and turns it cloudy. Let it tick along gently for two hours, maybe two and a half. Skim any grey foam that rises in the first twenty minutes, then leave it alone.
Turn the heat off and let the pot sit for ten minutes to settle. Strain the stock through a fine sieve, or better still a sieve lined with a piece of muslin, into a clean pan or bowl. Discard the spent vegetables and aromatics, but keep the bone back for a moment. If there's any soft, sticky meat still clinging to it, pick it off with your fingers once it's cool enough to handle. Save it for the soup you're about to make.
Taste the strained stock carefully. It should be deeply savoury, properly salty, faintly smoky, with a roundness from the bone and the onion skins. If it feels too aggressive even for a soup base, dilute with a splash of water until it settles. Let the stock cool completely, uncovered, then refrigerate. Any remaining fat will set on top overnight and can be lifted off in a clean disc the next day. Portion into tubs or bags for the freezer once it's cold.
1 serving (about 240g)
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