The Kitchen Diaries. Nigel Slater

      tomato purée – 2 teaspoons

      bay leaves – 4

      thyme – a few bushy sprigs

      a bottle of ballsy red wine, such as a Rioja

      grain mustard – a tablespoon

      smooth Dijon mustard – a tablespoon

      a little parsley

      creamy mashed potato, to serve

      Set the oven at 150°C/Gas 2. Put the oxtail in a plastic or zip-lock bag with the flour, ground chilli, dry mustard powder and a good grinding of black pepper. Seal it and shake it gently until the oxtail is covered.

      Warm the butter and a little oil, fat or dripping in a heavy-based casserole. Lower in the pieces of oxtail and let them colour on each side, turning them as they take on a nice, tasty bronze colour. Whilst the meat is browning, peel the onions and carrots and roughly chop them, then cut the celery into similar-sized pieces. Lift out the meat and set aside, then put the vegetables in the pot and let them colour lightly. Peel the garlic, slice it thinly, then add it to the vegetables, along with the mushrooms, each cut into six or eight pieces. Squeeze in the tomato purée. Continue cooking until the mushrooms have softened and lost some of their bulk.

      Return the oxtail and any escaped juices to the pan, tuck in the bay and thyme, then pour in the red wine. Bring briefly to the boil, season lightly with salt and cover with a tight lid. Transfer the dish to the oven. You can now leave the whole thing alone for a good two hours. I’m not sure you even need to give it a stir, though I inevitably do half way through cooking. After an hour, check the meat for tenderness. I don’t think it should be actually falling off the bones but it certainly should come away from the bone easily when tugged. Depending on the oxtail, it could take as long as two or three hours in total. Set the oxtail aside to cool, then refrigerate, preferably overnight.

      The next day, scrape off the fat that has set on the surface, then reheat the casserole slowly on the hot plate, stirring from time to time. Stir in the mustards. Once they are in, you should cook the stew for no longer than fifteen minutes, otherwise it will lose its edge. Stir in the parsley and serve with creamy mash.

Treacle tart

      You could call this a basic domestic version of treacle tart, but that would be to undersell it. No frills, none of the oozing unctuousness of a restaurant version, just a pleasingly frugal tart with crisp pastry and a thick golden filling. I do think cream in some form or another is essential here, and by the generous jugful too. You will need an old-fashioned shallow pie plate with sloping sides about 18cm diameter (across the base).

      fresh, white bread – 220g

      golden syrup – 8 heaped tablespoons (600g)

      the juice of half a lemon

      For the crust:

      plain flour – 180g

      butter – 90g

      water – 2 tablespoons

      Put the flour into a food processor with the cold butter cut into cubes and blitz until they resemble fine breadcrumbs. Pour in the cold water, blitz briefly, then tip the wet crumbs into a bowl. Bring the mixture together with your hands to form a ball. It will seem dry at first, but once you have squeezed and rolled the dough for a minute with your hands it will soften. Roll out on a lightly floured board to fit the tart tin.

      Very lightly butter the tin, then lay the pastry over and push it carefully into the tin. Trim any overhanging pastry, then prick the base gently with a fork and put in the fridge to rest. Set the oven at 200°C/Gas 6.

      After twenty minutes’ resting (the pastry that is, not you), remove the pastry from the fridge, place a piece of greaseproof paper over it, then cover it with baking beans or a similar-sized tart tin to stop it bubbling up. Bake for ten minutes. Remove the paper and beans and return the tin to the oven for ten minutes, until the surface of the pastry is dry to the touch.

      While the case bakes, whiz the bread in a food processor till it is in fine crumbs, then tip them into the empty pastry bowl. Mix in the golden syrup and the lemon juice. Pour the mixture into the pastry case, turn the oven down to 180°C/Gas 4 and bake for thirty minutes. When it comes from the oven, leave the tart to rest for a good ten minutes, then serve with cream.

      Enough for 6

      February 25

      Grey skies

      and piquant

      flavours

      After a row of rib-sticking suppers, I need something clean-tasting and sharp. Something to wake us up rather than make me nod off in front of the TV.

      Anything cooked with vinegar, onions and northern European spices has always excited me. Juniper is something I can never get enough of, its clean ‘gin and tonic’ scent instantly invigorating a grey February soul.

Warm soused mackerel

      Piquancy is something I value in a fish recipe, especially when that fish is one of the oily varieties, such as tuna, herring or my favourite mackerel. It may sound a little strange but I recommend some sautéed potatoes with this.

      mackerel – 3, filleted

      a small onion

      tarragon vinegar – 150ml

      white vermouth or white wine – 50ml

      juniper berries – 12, lightly crushed

      mustard seeds – half a teaspoon

      white peppercorns – 6

      black peppercorns – 9

      caster sugar – 2 tablespoons

      bay leaves – 2

      sautéed potatoes, to serve

      Set the oven at 180°C/Gas 4. Rinse the mackerel fillets and lay them in a shallow ovenproof dish of china, glass or stainless steel (not aluminium). Peel and thinly slice the onion and put it into a non-corrosive saucepan, together with the vinegar and vermouth or wine. Then add the juniper berries, mustard seeds, white and black peppercorns, sugar, bay leaves and a good pinch of salt. Bring to the boil, then pour the mixture over the fish. Add enough water to just cover the fish – no more.

      Cover the dish lightly with aluminium foil and bake for twenty minutes. Serve the fish warm, two fillets each, with sautéed potatoes.

      Enough for 3

      march

       An English cheese salad

       A simple flatbread

       Taramasalata – the real thing

       Chicken stew and mash