
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.
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Created by Chef Thomas
Flakes of smoky haddock, halved eggs, and a generous parsley sauce under a golden lid of mashed potato. The kind of pie that makes a Tuesday evening feel like it was worth getting home for.
January is when I make this most. The dark comes early and the kitchen is the warmest room in the house. There's a piece of smoked haddock in the fridge, bought from the fishmonger at Saturday's market, still wrapped in its paper, smelling of salt and woodsmoke. That smell is already half the meal.
This is simpler than a full fish pie. No prawns, no salmon, no white wine, no fuss. Just good smoked haddock, eggs boiled so the yolks are still a little jammy at the centre, and a parsley sauce made with the milk youpoached the fish in. The mash goes on top, gets roughed up with a fork, and the oven does the rest. We're only making dinner.
I've always thought of this as a pie for people you don't need to impress. The kind of thing you put in the middle of the table with a spoon and let everyone help themselves. There are few better feelings than watching someone dig through the golden potato to find the egg underneath, that small moment of discovery in an otherwise ordinary evening.
I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: haddock, eggs, parsley, Tuesday. It didn't need any more than that. The smell of it baking was the rest of the story.
Quantity
500g
Quantity
500ml, plus a splash more
Quantity
2
Quantity
a few
Quantity
4
Quantity
40g
for the sauce
Quantity
40g
Quantity
a generous handful
finely chopped
Quantity
half
juiced
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
1kg
peeled and cut into chunks
Quantity
50g
for the mash
Quantity
a splash
for the mash
Quantity
a grating
freshly grated
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| undyed smoked haddock fillet | 500g |
| whole milk | 500ml, plus a splash more |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| black peppercorns | a few |
| large eggs | 4 |
| unsalted butterfor the sauce | 40g |
| plain flour | 40g |
| flat-leaf parsleyfinely chopped | a generous handful |
| lemonjuiced | half |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
| floury potatoespeeled and cut into chunks | 1kg |
| unsalted butterfor the mash | 50g |
| warm milkfor the mash | a splash |
| nutmegfreshly grated | a grating |
Lay the haddock in a wide pan, skin side down. Pour over the milk, tuck in the bay leaves and peppercorns, and set it over a gentle heat. You want the milk to barely tremble, not boil. Let it poach for eight to ten minutes, until the flesh has turned from translucent to opaque and flakes easily when you press it with a fork. Lift the fish out onto a plate and set the poaching milk aside. Every drop of that milk goes into the sauce. It's where the flavour lives.
While the fish poaches, get the eggs into boiling water for nine minutes, then straight into cold water to stop them cooking further. Peel when cool enough to handle and halve lengthways. Put the potatoes in a large pan of salted cold water, bring to a simmer, and cook until they offer no resistance to a knife. Drain well and let them steam dry in the colander for a minute or two. Wet potatoes make gluey mash, and gluey mash on top of a pie is a sorry thing.
Melt the 40g of butter in a saucepan over a medium heat. When it foams, add the flour and stir constantly for a minute or so until you have a smooth, sandy paste that smells biscuity rather than raw. Now add the strained poaching milk, a ladleful at a time, stirring well between each addition. The first couple go in and the mixture seizes up alarmingly. Keep stirring. Keep adding. It will come together into a smooth, glossy sauce that coats the back of a spoon. Let it simmer gently for five minutes to cook out the flour, stirring now and then. Stir in the parsley and the lemon juice. Season carefully. The haddock brings salt of its own, so taste before you add more.
Mash the drained potatoes with the 50g of butter and a splash of warm milk. You want them smooth and generous, soft enough to spread but firm enough to hold their shape on top of the pie. A grating of nutmeg. Season with salt and pepper. Taste it. The mash should be good enough to eat on its own. If it isn't, the pie won't save it.
Set the oven to 200C/180C fan. Flake the haddock into large pieces, discarding the skin and checking for bones as you go. Lay the fish in the bottom of an ovenproof dish, about 1.5 litres in size. Nestle the halved eggs among the fish, cut side up, so they're visible when you eventually spoon through the top. Pour the parsley sauce over everything. It should cover the fish and eggs in a thick, generous blanket. Spoon the mash on top and spread it to the edges, sealing the filling in. Run a fork across the surface to rough it up. The ridges will catch and go golden.
Bake for twenty-five to thirty minutes, until the potato is properly golden on top and the sauce is bubbling up at the edges. You'll smell it before you see it: smoky, buttery, the particular warmth of something that has been quietly getting on with itself in the oven. Let it stand for five minutes before you serve it. A pie this hot needs a moment, and so do you.
1 serving (about 490g)
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