
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
A suet-crusted pudding filled with braised steak and kidney, steamed for hours until the pastry turns silky and the gravy darkens to something that smells like the kind of January evening you don't want to leave.
January. Properly cold. The sort of afternoon where the light has already gone by four and the kitchen window runs with condensation. This is when a steamed pudding makes sense, and no other version of steak and kidney comes close to the one made in a basin. Pies have their place, but a pudding is the older, humbler thing. The suet crust steams for hours in its own filling, turning from raw dough into something silky, almost translucent, soaked through with gravy. It's a different kind of pleasure entirely.
This is not a quick dinner. I won't pretend otherwise. The filling needs time to braise, the pastry needs time to steam, and you need to be home for the afternoon to keep the water topped up. But none of it is difficult. The technique is straightforward: brown the meat, build a gravy, line a basin, seal it up, and let steam do the patient work of turning everything into something greater than its parts. The real skill is just being there.
I make this two or three times a winter, usually on a Saturday when I've no reason to leave the house. The smell builds slowly through the afternoon, filling the kitchen and then the hallway and eventually the whole place with something savoury and deep that makes people wander in and ask what's happening. That's the point. There are few better feelings than carrying a pudding to the table, turning it out onto a warm plate, and cutting into it while someone watches the gravy spill across the rim.
I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: steak, kidney, suet, four hours, rain. It hasn't changed. It doesn't need to.
Quantity
500g
cut into rough 3cm pieces
Quantity
200g
trimmed of core and sinew, cut into small pieces
Quantity
1 large
finely chopped
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
200ml
Quantity
1
Quantity
a few sprigs
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
a knob
Quantity
a splash
Quantity
275g
Quantity
140g
Quantity
pinch
Quantity
approximately 150ml
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| stewing beef (chuck or shin)cut into rough 3cm pieces | 500g |
| ox kidneytrimmed of core and sinew, cut into small pieces | 200g |
| onionfinely chopped | 1 large |
| plain flour | 1 tablespoon |
| Worcestershire sauce | 1 tablespoon |
| beef stock | 200ml |
| bay leaf | 1 |
| thyme | a few sprigs |
| fine sea salt and black pepper | to taste |
| butter | a knob |
| oil | a splash |
| self-raising flour | 275g |
| shredded beef suet | 140g |
| fine sea salt (for pastry) | pinch |
| cold water | approximately 150ml |
Get a wide, heavy pan properly hot with a splash of oil and the butter. Season the beef and kidney pieces with salt and pepper, then dust them lightly with the flour. Brown the meat in batches, giving each piece room and time. You want a deep, mahogany crust on the outside, not a pale, steamed surface. If you crowd the pan, the meat stews rather than sears, and you lose all that flavour that sticks to the bottom. Set the browned meat aside on a plate.
In the same pan, with all those sticky, caramelised bits still clinging to the bottom, soften the onion over a medium heat. Five minutes or so, until it's translucent and beginning to colour. Add the Worcestershire sauce and let it sizzle for a moment. Pour in the stock and stir, scraping up everything from the base of the pan. That residue is flavour. Return the meat to the pan, tuck in the bay leaf and thyme, and bring to a gentle simmer. Let it bubble softly, with a lid on, for about an hour and a half. The beef should be tender but not falling apart. You want it to hold its shape through the steaming. Let the filling cool completely before it goes into the pudding. This is not optional. Hot filling melts the suet crust before it has a chance to set.
While the filling cools, make the pastry. Combine the self-raising flour, suet, and a pinch of salt in a large bowl. Add the cold water gradually, mixing with a butter knife, then your hands, until it comes together into a soft, slightly sticky dough. Don't work it like bread. Handle it as little as you can bear. Suet pastry should be tender, not elastic. It wants to be treated gently.
Butter a 1.2-litre pudding basin generously. Roll out two-thirds of the dough on a floured surface into a circle large enough to line the basin with a little overhang. Lower it in carefully, pressing it into the base and up the sides without stretching. There shouldn't be any gaps or thin spots. Keep the remaining third for the lid.
Spoon the cooled filling into the lined basin, along with enough of its gravy to come about two-thirds of the way up the meat. You want the pudding to be generous, but not so full that it overflows when it swells. Roll out the remaining pastry to make a lid. Brush the edges of the pastry lining with a little water, lay the lid on top, and press the edges together firmly to seal. Trim any excess. It doesn't need to be beautiful. It needs to be sealed.
Cut a sheet of baking parchment and a sheet of foil, both large enough to cover the basin with room to spare. Lay the parchment on top of the foil and fold a pleat across the centre. This gives the pudding room to expand. Place over the basin, foil side up, and secure tightly with kitchen string tied under the rim. Fashion a string handle across the top so you can lift it in and out of the pan without scalding yourself. This matters more than you think.
Set the basin on an upturned saucer or small trivet in a large, deep pan. Pour in boiling water from the kettle until it comes halfway up the sides of the basin. Put the lid on and let it steam for three and a half to four hours at a steady, gentle simmer. Check the water level every hour and top up with boiling water as needed. Never let the pan boil dry. The kitchen will fill slowly with a smell that is difficult to describe and impossible to mistake: savoury, rich, slightly mineral, deeply comforting. Trust your nose. When the pudding smells like that, the house feels different.
Lift the basin from the pan carefully using the string handle. Remove the foil and parchment. Run a palette knife around the inside edge to loosen. Place a warmed plate over the top, invert, and give it a confident shake. The pudding should unmould in one piece: a pale golden dome, its surface slightly damp from the steam, the suet crust yielding under a spoon to reveal the dark, glossy filling beneath. Cut it at the table. Spoon the gravy that pools on the plate over each serving. Serve with something green: buttered cabbage, or steamed greens with a squeeze of lemon. Nothing fussy. The pudding is the event.
1 serving (about 375g)
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