This week's recipes are connected by a sweet and salty theme. But how to celebrate those two flavours when sugar and salt are, for many, public enemies number one and two? While the message about fat, dairy and carbohydrates changes, confusingly, from one month to the next, the voices that champion the benefits of unrefined sugar or liberal use of salt are pretty inaudible.
Personally speaking, I don't abstain from any food group. I rarely drink coffee, say, without also having a bite of something sweet, and for me cakes nearly always involve a combination of flour, eggs, butter, sugar, a pinch of salt and no sprinkle of guilt. I don't avoid either sugar or salt on principle, but there are countless other ways to bring sweetness and saltiness to a dish without relying on either.
Today I'm going to concentrate onjust a handful of my favourites. The first, of course, is to start with naturally sweet or salty ingredients. The combination of sun-ripened tomato or watermelon and chunks ofsalty feta and black, wrinkly olives, for example, has more than enough going on to excite the sweet-salty tastebuds that very little extra is needed; capers or chopped preserved lemon skin serve the same salty purpose.
If the main ingredient in a dish isnaturally salty or bitter – in an endive or radicchio salad, for example, or a vegetable such as brussels sprouts – the supporting act needs to be sweet. Honey-roasted nuts in the bitter salad, perhaps, or segments of pomelo, cinnamon and citrus syrup with roasted sprouts.
Beyond simply matching two ingredients, the merging of sweet and salty can also take place more subtly. A tablespoon of angostura bitters in a sweet orange marinade poured over wedges of sweet potato before they are roasted, for instance, helps tame the sweetness. And dressings that mix opposites are among my favourites: the pairing of salty soy sauce, sweet honey and tahini might seem unconventional, but mix them with a little cider vinegar, a tablespoon or two of water and some crushed garlic, it makes perfect sense when poured over some just-cooked green beans or broccoli. Pomegranate or date molasses likewise bring all the sugar you need to both savoury and sweet cooking, as do a few drops of orange blossom or rose water.
Creamed corn on toast with chorizo and poached egg
It's not called sweetcorn for nothing, and there is enough salt in the pancetta and chorizo to balance the creamed corn without adding much more. This is a serious contender to creamy scrambled egg as the king of all brunches. Buttery toast is a great vehicle for the corn, but the chorizo provides enough body if you want to serve it without. Serves four.
4 corn on the cob
30g unsalted butter
1 medium onion, peeled and roughlychopped
2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
50g smoked pancetta, cut into 1cmdice
350ml full-fat milk
Salt and black pepper
3 chorizo sausages (300g in total)
1 tbsp olive oil
To serve
4 slices sourdough bread, toasted and buttered
4 eggs, poached
2 tbsp sriracha (or another savoury chilli sauce)
2 spring onions, trimmed and thinly sliced on an angle (25g net)
10g coriander, chopped
Holding the corncobs vertically on a board, cut down the sides to release all the kernels. Set aside the kernels, and do not discard the cobs.
Put the butter in a large sauté pan on a medium-high heat. Add the onion and cook for 10 minutes, stirring from time to time, until it softens and starts to take on some colour. Add the garlic, cook for two minutes, then add the pancetta, shaved corncobs and milk. Turn the heat to low and simmer gently for 15 minutes, stirring from time to time, until the sauce is quite thick and most of the liquid evaporated. Lift out and discard the cobs, scraping the sauce back into the pan, then add two thirds of the sweetcorn kernels, along with two-thirds of a teaspoon of salt and a good grind of black pepper. Cook for another five minutes, then using a hand blender blitz to a rough paste. Stir through the remaining sweetcorn, return to amedium heat and cook for two minutes longer, adding a little water if needed to get the consistency of scrambled eggs. Set aside somewhere warm.
Cut the chorizo lengthways into two or three 1cm-thick slices. Heat the oil in a large frying pan on a high flame, and fry the chorizo for four minutes, turning halfway through, until cooked and crisp on both sides.
To serve, spoon the warm corn on top of the toasts and lay the chorizo alongside. Spoon a poached egg on top and serve at once, with the chilli sauce drizzled on top and the spring onions and coriander sprinkled over.
Cauliflower with dates and capers
This can be served warmish or at room temperature. The advantage of the former, for those who like an element of decadence with their dates, is that you catch the point when the dolcelatte melts into the cauliflower. Serves four.
70ml sunflower oil, for frying
40g capers, rinsed and patted dry
3 tbsp olive oil
1 large red onion, peeled and cut into 2.5cm wedges
1 large cauliflower, broken into 3cm florets
1 pinch saffron mixed with 60ml boiling water
About 6 medjool dates, stoned and cut lengthways into 3mm strips
Salt and black pepper
30g parsley, picked and chopped
75g dolcelatte, torn into 2cm pieces
Pour the sunflower oil into a small saucepan on a high heat. Add the capers and fry for a minute, until the flowers open and the capers turn golden-brown and crisp. Remove and set aside on a plate lined with kitchen paper.
On a medium-high flame, heat the olive oil into a large sauté pan for which you have a lid. Add the onion and sauté for 12-15 minutes, stirring often, until soft and caramelised. Add the cauliflower, saffron water, dates, a teaspoon and a quarter of salt and a good grind of pepper. Stir gently, to coat the cauliflower in the saffron water, cover and simmer for five minutes, until most of the liquid has been absorbed and the cauliflower is starting to fry (if need be, at this stage remove the lid and let some liquid evaporate). Remove the pan from the heat and set aside, covered, for 30 minutes, to cool slightly. Gently stir in the parsley, cheese and capers, and serve.
Braised carrot and artichoke with orange and dill
As is often the case with artichokes, the admittedly laborious process of peeling and cleaning the thistle ends with a dish Ican only describe as sublime. Serves four.
75ml lemon juice
75ml olive oil
½ medium orange, skin on and cut widthways into 0.5cm slices
1½ tbsp honey
2 bay leaves
1 sprig thyme
½ tsp black peppercorns
Salt
8 medium globe artichokes
5 carrots, peeled and cut widthways on an angle into 0.5cm slices
10g dill, roughly chopped
Heat the oven to 190C/375F/gas mark 5. Put three tablespoons of lemon juice in a bowl with the olive oil, orange, honey, bay, thyme, peppercorns and a teaspoon of salt. Add 200ml water, stir to combine and set aside.
To clean the artichokes, cut off most of the stalk and remove the tough outer leaves by hand. Once you reach the softer inner leaves, take a sharp serrated knife and trim off the leaves as close to the heart as possible. Scrape out and discard the hairs in the heart with a teaspoon, then remove the outside layer of the stalk and outside of the heart with a potato peeler or small knife. Rub all over with the remaining lemon juice, to prevent discolouration, then cut each heart into 1cm slices.
Add to the bowl with the carrots, stir well, then tip everything into a 24cm x 33cm oven tray. Roast for an hour, stirring a couple of times during that time (this helps to ensure all the vegetables end up being exposed to the direct heat of the oven, rather than just poach in the hot cooking liquid), until the vegetables are cooked through and lightly caramelised; there should bynow be only a little liquid left in the tray. Serve warm or at room temperature, with the dill stirred through just before.
Yotam Ottolenghi is chef/patron of Ottolenghi and Nopi in London.
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