Thank you for opening this weeks Gristle newsletter. I write to you flanked by a shocking amount of once full sparkling water bottles and painkiller packets, wrapped in a damp towel all thanks to Gristle’s first big night in. Main course and pudding will be served next week in part 2 xx
I first met Greig when the vaccine was still novel and zoom gatherings hadn’t yet lost their shine. He would brim a backpack with bottled cocktails knocked up in his kitchen and cycle them around London to those who were lucky enough to get an order slot. And lucky they were. High proof, heavy hitting drinks with bright overtones of something a little softer were his bread and butter. A punchy gin number sharpened with citra hopped sherry sticks out as one of the best. A smart addition of lemon thyme honey and chamomile flowers was the required stroke after the slap. His take on an Old Fashioned was anything but. Pistachio bourbon formed a sturdy foundation on which a zesty blood orange caramel could build. Angostura bitters added a familiar cola-like fragrance which bought the drink back down to earth.
He turned to me in my kitchen Saturday evening, cocktail shaker in hand and muttered something about putting a pinch of salt in most drinks. It had almost been a year to the day he first left a cocktail on my doorstep, since then we had drank many more together. Layaness Bar was one of the most memorable, and also not so memorable. A seemingly endless stream of very clever drinks full of nuance and ingredients we hadn’t heard of wrecked us well before the watershed. Tonight however, we would be in the drivers seat. An alcohol fuelled dinner party curated by us, for us, kicked off with a rich whisky sour. He was right about the salt.
DASHI WHIPPED PORK FAT // Serves 4
Risottos, steaks and any sort of fish cookery are the fools gold of the dinner party canon - a lot of effort for very little reward. By all means, cover yourself in flecks of fat trying to make Mum’s famous crispy salmon, but you won’t find me looking like a greased up Jackson Pollock canvas on the big night. This dish using rendered pork fat (read back) can be made ahead of time and sits somewhere between a wild accompaniment for good bread and a full blown starter. A back-pocket-cum-throw-it-together recipe for anyone who wants to appear more sober or knowledgeable than they are. At this point in the evening, it served me for the former.
100g rendered pork fat (see here)
10g kombu seaweed, blitzed to a powder
Small handful katsuobushi
Furikake
Melt the pork fat in a small pan over a medium heat. Once the fat starts to shimmer and loosen, tip in the kombu. Mix to combine and set aside to cool. Store in the fridge until needed.
Take the fat out of the fridge an hour before your guests arrive and beat with a spoon to evenly disperse the kombu powder. Allow the fat to return to room temperature.
Dollop onto a small plate and season with flakey salt. Load on the katsuobushi and liberally scatter over the furikake. Serve with supple bread or warm toast.
CHICKEN LIVER PATE WITH FRAZZLES // Serves 4
I have come to Frazzles only in adulthood, backwards I know. There is something about knocking back a packet of the smoky stuff that keeps me young, in mind. Pair faux bacon depth with a smooth pate, rich with good quality butter and you have a winner that will get people talking - for a variety of reasons. Frame it as liver, bacon and onions for the wary and you might make some more headway. In any case, those that turn their nose up at nostalgia-core, do not have a place at your table.
200g unsalted butter, cubed
2 small shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
400g chicken livers, cleaned
75ml brandy
100ml double cream
Good honey
2 packets Frazzles
Fry the shallots in a frying pan over a low-medium heat with 2 tbsp of the butter, until softened but not coloured. Add the garlic and fry for a further 1-2 minutes, until fragrant.
Turn the heat up to high and tip in the livers. Fry everything for a further 1-2 minutes, until golden in places. Tip in the brandy, light and step back - allow the brandy to burn off completely.
Tip in the cream, remaining butter then take the pan off the heat. Allow the butter to melt in the residual heat. Season with a generous pinch of salt.
Blend the mixture in a food processor until completely smooth, pass through a fine sieve if you have the energy. Load the mixture into a piping bag and allow to set in the fridge for 4-5 hours.
1 hour before serving, take the pâté out of the fridge to soften slightly. Pipe onto plates, drizzle over honey and serve with plenty of frazzles.
RADICCHIO SALAD // Serves 4
It was almost not worth including this recipe owing to its simplicity - if you feel confident enough to go it alone, let it serve as a reminder to put something fresh on the table. I often punctuate meals with radicchio, especially when they are as fat laden as this. Bitter leaves, dressed in something sour and faintly sweet provide a welcome break from the deluge of heavy. You can forgive the richness of dairy fat and the mouth lining qualities of lard when there is the option of a great salad that cuts and surprises. I enjoy wasabi in salad dressings for this reason, it lifts and provides contrast - mustard often gets lost in the melé of familiar.
4 tbsp good fruit based vinegar
1 tbsp good olive oil
1 tbsp mirin
1/2 tsp wasabi
2 medium heads of raddicchio, shredded
Beat the vinegar, oil, mirin and wasabi together in a large mixing bowl. Chuck in the radicchio and toss everything together. Season to taste with salt and serve.
BLOOD ORANGE AND SALTED CARAMEL OLD FASHIONED // GREIG HOWITT
We were already worryingly full and still had pasta, sticky tendons and pudding to come. It was high time for a premature aperitif, a genre of drink well within Greigs wheelhouse. Hard, chilled liquor would cut through the starch and fat that the radicchio didn’t attend to. It’s often hard to improve on a classic and I don’t think Greig set out to do that here - think of it more as a love letter to an old flame that has never aged. I will let him take it from here.
60ml pistachio washed bourbon, read down
10ml salted blood orange caramel , read further down
2 dashes of Angostura bitters
Stir over ice and strain over fresh ice in a rocks glass, garnish with a blood orange twist or just a regular orange twist if ye canny get bloody oranges.
PISTACHIO BOURBON // GREIG HOWITT
So this is a fairly simple fat washing situation, if you want to make your own pistachio butter and get yer blender out and all that be my guest, but honestly just buy the stuff from your local boujee shop, the caramel gets techy enough as it is.
Combine 1 part of warmed-up pistachio butter with 3 parts of bourbon and leave for a couple of hours before whacking into the freezer overnight.
The butter should split from the bourbon and freeze allowing you to strain your bourbon through a sieve and then coffee filters, this might take a hot min, but fuck it's worth it.
Bourbon wise don't buy some cheap crap, but equally, you shouldn't be spending over £30 in this situation, Woodford Reserve and Makers Mark have always served me well when it comes to mixing.
SALTED BLOOD ORANGE CARAMEL // GREIG HOWITT
Google how to make a basic caramel from scratch, I ain't a pastry chef so I'm not gonna copy and paste someone else's words and pretend their mine, but essentially once you've added your cream and butter and take it off the heat you're going to want to add some blood orange zest into this whilst it's cooling.
Zest around 1 whole blood orange per 150ml of caramel, ish ... and a small pinch of good quality salt.
Let the blood orange infuse for a couple of hours whilst your caramel cools, then you're going to want to clarify it, this is a little bit of a pain in the arse at home, but the results are well worth it. Pass your caramel through a large coffee filter overnight, it will slowly but surely separate from the fat and drip clear, and damn is it delicious.
Now you've fannied around in the kitchen for long enough you're probably well thirsty, let's get to it.
NICE