
Chef Thomas
A British BLT
Back bacon crisped in a hot pan, a ripe tomato that actually tastes of something, crisp lettuce and real butter on proper toast. A sandwich that earns its place in the notebook.
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Tiny brown shrimp potted in butter spiced with mace and cayenne, turned out onto hot toast so the butter runs into the bread and the kitchen smells of the Lancashire coast.
The smell is what gets you first. Butter, warmed with mace and a trace of cayenne, with those tiny brown shrimp stirred through. It smells old-fashioned in the best possible way, like something served in a good pub on the coast, or at a table that's been set properly for no particular reason.
Potted shrimp is a Morecambe Bay thing, though the tradition runs up and down the Lancashire coast and beyond. The shrimp are small, brown, sweet, the sort you eat by the handful if you find them fresh. Potted in spiced butter and left to set, they become something else entirely: concentrated, savoury, rich without being heavy. The butter does the carrying. The shrimp provide the point.
This is a dinner party dish that doesn't behave like one. You make it the day before. You take it from the fridge. You toast good bread and turn the ramekins out. There are few better feelings than putting a warm plate in front of someone and watching them realise that the simplest-looking thing on the table is the best thing they'll eat all evening.
I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: brown shrimp, mace, hot toast, Friday. I've made it dozens of times since and the note still holds. A recipe is a conversation, not a contract, and this one barely needs words.
Quantity
250g
Quantity
150g
Quantity
1 blade or a good pinch of ground
Quantity
a few passes on the grater
freshly grated
Quantity
small pinch
Quantity
a squeeze
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
4 thick slices
for toasting
Quantity
to serve
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| peeled brown shrimp | 250g |
| unsalted butter | 150g |
| mace | 1 blade or a good pinch of ground |
| nutmegfreshly grated | a few passes on the grater |
| cayenne pepper | small pinch |
| lemon juice | a squeeze |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| sourdough or white bloomerfor toasting | 4 thick slices |
| lemon wedges (optional) | to serve |
Melt the butter gently in a small saucepan over the lowest heat you have. Don't stir it. Let it melt slowly and separate: the golden fat on top, the milky solids sinking to the bottom. When it's fully melted and the surface looks clear and calm, skim away any foam with a spoon. This is your clarified butter, or near enough. It keeps the potted shrimp sweet and clean for days. Pour it carefully into a jug, leaving the white sediment behind in the pan.
Pour most of the clarified butter back into a clean pan (keep a couple of tablespoons aside for sealing later). Add the mace, the nutmeg, and the cayenne. Warm it through over a gentle heat for two or three minutes, until the kitchen smells warm and slightly sweet and a little bit old-fashioned. The spices should bloom in the butter, not fry. If anything sizzles, you're too hot.
Tip the brown shrimp into the spiced butter. Stir them gently so each one gets coated. They only need a minute or two in the warm butter, just long enough to take on the spices and heat through. They're already cooked. You're not cooking them again, just bringing them into the fold. Add the lemon juice and a careful pinch of salt. Taste one on a piece of bread. Adjust. You'll know.
Divide the shrimp and their butter between four ramekins, pressing them down gently with the back of a spoon so they're snug. Pour the reserved clarified butter over the top in a thin, even layer. It will set as it cools, sealing everything in. Cover with cling film and refrigerate for at least two hours, or overnight. The flavours deepen with time. Tomorrow's will be better than today's, though today's will be very good.
When you're ready to eat, take the ramekins out of the fridge twenty minutes before serving. You want the butter to soften just enough that you can turn them out, or scoop them onto the toast in generous spoonfuls. Toast the bread properly: golden, firm, hot enough that the butter starts to melt on contact. Spread the potted shrimp thickly onto the toast. Let the butter soak into the bread. A wedge of lemon on the side, a few grinds of black pepper if you like. That's it. That's dinner.
1 serving (about 170g)
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