Imperative cooking: a new Norman conquest
WHEN I try to discover what the socialist government is up to and turn to the left- wing newspapers for an answer, I am told it is 'modernising the state'. 'Modern', what- ever that may be, is assumed to be good, and modern is the thing to be. Indeed, it is more than fashionable, it is obligatory. Explanations are required if you won't modernise your institutions.
The only response any Imperative cook can have is to reach still further into the past. So, in the unending struggle to put the clock back, Mrs A and I have invited Nor- man to stay. He is on trial and lives just outside the lower kitchen door at the top end of the garden. He arrived from Portu- gal last month.
Norman is a handmade terracotta oven. He is about two foot in diameter and the same in height. His importers call him a `Beehive Oven' and he looks like a beehive. He also looks like a Norman helmet because of his shape and because he has a square opening in the front. You will have seen Normans all over the place. There are variants throughout the Mediterranean and North Africa, but this particular sort comes from Portugal and Spain. I say he is on pro- bation and there are more trials to do, but he is already a terrific success with breads both leavened and unleavened, sardines, salmon and the sort of fish you would bar- becue or grill, fish and meat casseroles roasted things such as onions and small birds such as pigeons. You get all the good tastes of open-fire or barbecue cooking and none of the bad. Food is kept moist and doesn't burn, and there is less to do than with open fires — none of that endless turning and dropping anchovies between the racks of the grill onto the fire. The cooking is much more even too — both ends of the salmon were done at the same time.
While Norman scores over open fires, he also scores over conventional ovens, and that includes the awful Aga. He beats them in taste because he has a wood fire burning inside the oven. Take three sheets of the Daily Telegraph (after reading, of course), knot them and put them in Norman's oven towards the front. On top of them pile chips of beech, oak, or, to be really old English, blackthorn. Then light them and let the fire heat the oven for about 40 min- utes. There is a rough-and-ready door which should be half closed. After this time clear the ashes to the back and sides, then Norman is ready to cook. The heat radiates from the roof and floor, the roof being somewhat hotter (which is why, in particu- lar, bread cooked in such ovens is so good. The other reason bread is good is that small bits of charcoal dust flavour it as well `Give us a break, Gulliver! Haven't you got anything smaller?' as the aroma from the fire's smoke).
In old English cooking the bread would be done first in the oven, followed by meats. I use Norman rather differently because what he does best are flat breads like Italian hearth breads, Indian breads and Middle Eastern breads, and, as these take no time to cook, they can be done last. Before the bread, do dishes like salmon. Simply put it in an ovenware dish with olive oil and whatever you want (don't cover) and it will be done in rather less time than in a conventional oven. Sar- dines are the same, but put them on a rack (don't bother to turn). Norman stays hot for a couple of hours, so when you are eating the sardines or whatever, let him cook a casserole dish which can be heated in the evening. He did very well with thick `back' of cuttlefish with potatoes and black olives stewed in olive oil and fish stock with turmeric.
One way to exploit Norman is to reread Elizabeth David's English Bread and Yeast Cookery, and obviously the chapter on brick ovens. Norman is fairly like a brick oven. He follows the advice Elizabeth David quotes: 'In the building of your oven for baking, observe that you make it round, low-roofed and a little Mouth, then it will take less fire and keep in the heat better than a long oven and a high-roofed, and will make the bread better.' You might note, though, that he does not take as long to get hot as the traditional English brick ovens; they take up to two hours; but nor does he keep heat as long as they do. David quotes Eliza Acton, who knew 'a very large brick oven, heated in the middle of the day . . . still warm enough at eight or nine o'clock in the evening to bake delicate small cakes such as macaroons and meringues and also custards, apples etc.'
Another path is to exploit Norman's sim- ilarities with other ovens. Neapolitan pizza ovens spring to mind, as do tandoors. My impression is that Norman does not get as hot as a pizza oven, which can do quite large pizzas in as little as four minutes, but he still produces a very good pizza, much better than a conventional oven. The tan- door resemblances offer even more possi- bilities, although there are no sides to stick breads on. A third and even better way is to use your common sense and keep practis- ing.
We are definitely going to keep Nor- man. I have only two doubts about him. Firstly, he is showing a few small cracks, perhaps due to my heating him up too quickly, and secondly, and more seriously, I have a horrid worry that he is going to become fashionable, something to show off in the garden, 'our handmade terra- cotta oven'. In short, just the thing for `modern' people.
Normans, or 'Beehive Ovens' as they are cor- rectly called, are imported by Cesol Tiles of Wallingford (tel: 01491 833662). They cost £166 plus VAT and delivery.
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