Serve up one of these little beauties, and your mates will think you're a star in the kitchen.
Just don't let on they're a cinch to make
Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall
The Guardian, Saturday 3 October 2009
A homemade terrine: looks like a lot of work, isn't really. Photograph: Colin Campbell
There's something about this time of year that has me longing to lay things down. It's almost primal, this desire to fill my larder and fridge with jars and bottles and plastic tubs filled with delicious goodness to help see us through the colder months, or at least through the next couple of weeks. So around about now, you're likely to find me retreating to the warm fug of the kitchen for a jamming session, or a little light potting, activities designed to keep the prehistoric wolf from the door. I'm a modern-day Tupperware-loving caveman, after all.
So, for the next two weeks, join me in making terrines and potted things – the meaty stuff this week, fish and veg next. One of the most appealing things about this kind of cooking is that, though the dishes look impressive, they're very easy to make, so it's maximum kudos for minimum effort. OK, they do take time, but that gives you an excuse to hang out in the kitchen listening to the radio while giving the impression that you're very busy. None of the steps is difficult, though. When you're done, you'll have the makings of an easy, near-instant lunch, a delicious treat to take on an autumn picnic or, for the nervous entertainer, a highly impressive first course that you can make ahead – no "serve immediately" knuckle-blanching fear here.
To accompany the terrines, all you need is a dollop of chutney (more kitchen retreat time required) or a few cornichons. You could add a lightly dressed salad of gutsy leaves – watercress and rocket are good because they cut through the richness of the meat. And toast, ideally hot and butter-melting, is the only "serve immediately" component of this feast. With the preserved duck or goose legs, serve them whole as a meaty and magnificent main course, or fork them into mouthwatering shreds, scatter hot over warm lentils or dressed leaves, and spread the bounty among the masses.
Game terrine
It's a shame we think of terrines as being cheffy when once they were a staple of the farmhouse kitchen. There's nothing complicated here – it's hugely satisfying to make and, more importantly, to eat. Serves 10.
1kg lean game meat – pheasant breasts, pigeon breasts, duck or other wild fowl breasts, boned saddle and hindquarters of rabbit or hare, lean venison cut into strips
Oil or fat for frying
300g streaky bacon
For the forcemeat
500g sausage meat
Livers from the game (or 175g chicken livers), finely chopped
2 handfuls white breadcrumbs
1 egg
3 tbsp finely chopped parsley
A few sprigs of thyme, leaves picked and chopped
5-6 juniper berries, crushed
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
A splash of red wine
A splash of brandy
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
First make the forcemeat. In a large bowl, combine the sausage meat and chopped livers with the breadcrumbs, egg, parsley, thyme, juniper and garlic. Add the wine and brandy, season and mix thoroughly, preferably with your hands.
Heat some oil or fat in a heavy-based frying pan and fry the game pieces, in batches, for about two minutes, until nicely browned.
Remove the rind from the bacon and run the back of a knife along each rasher to stretch it. Line a 1kg loaf tin or ceramic terrine dish with the stretched bacon, overlapping slightly and leaving the ends hanging over the edges. Arrange a layer of forcemeat in the terrine, followed by a layer of mixed game meat, seasoning between each layer. (If you prefer, put the same kind of game in each layer: that is, a layer of rabbit, say, then forcemeat, then pigeon, then forcemeat, then pheasant, and so on.) However many layers you end up making (I usually go for three), end with a layer of forcemeat.
Preheat the oven to 160C/325F/gas mark 3. Fold the exposed strips of bacon over the top of the terrine and cover tightly with foil and/or a lid. Place the terrine in a roasting tin half-filled with hot water and cook for an hour and a half to two hours. Insert a skewer into the middle – it should come out piping hot.
Now you need to press the terrine as it cools, to ensure the best texture and easy slicing – take a piece of wood or plastic that fits snugly inside the dish and weigh it down with a brick (wrapped in clingfilm) or some heavy food tins. Leave for several hours or overnight, until the terrine is completely cold. The terrine can be stored in the fridge for up to five days, well wrapped in clingfilm. To serve, slice thickly with a very sharp knife.
Preserved duck or goose legs (aka confit)
You can certainly joint and preserve a whole duck or goose, but it's more usual just to preserve the legs. The legless carcass can be roasted, or remove the breasts and use them in a game terrine. A duck leg will serve one as a main course, a goose leg two.
25g rock salt
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2-3 thyme sprigs
2-3 bay leaves, slightly crushed
6 garlic cloves, crushed
2 large duck or goose legs
2 tbsp olive oil
750g rendered goose or duck fat
Mix together the salt, pepper, thyme, bay leaves and garlic, and rub into the skin and meat of the legs. Leave for 48 hours in a tray or dish in the fridge, giving the legs another salty massage after 24 hours. Scrape off and reserve the seasonings.
Heat the olive oil in a heavy pan over a moderate heat and brown the legs well all over, skin side first. Transfer to an ovenproof dish in which they'll fit snugly, add the reserved seasoning and enough rendered fat to cover, or almost cover, the meat. Cook in a low oven – 150C/300F/gas mark 2 – for two hours, until the meat is nearly falling off the bone. If the meat is not quite covered by fat, turn carefully two or three times during the cooking. Remove from the oven and cool.
Put the confit legs in a large Kilner jar or similar (or even a plastic tub with a lid), pour over enough warm, liquid duck or goose fat to cover completely and seal the meat from the air. Leave until the fat sets hard, then cover with the lid. Preserved in this way, the meat will keep for several months in a cool larder or even longer in the fridge.
Alternatively, simply smear the cooked legs with fat, wrap them in clingfilm and they will keep for a good couple of weeks in the fridge.
When you want to use the confit, remove the legs from their container and scrape off most, though not all, of the fat (rendered and filtered, it can be reused). Put the legs skin-side down in a baking tray and cook in a very hot oven, 230C/450F/gas mark 8, for five minutes, then drain off the melted fat. Return to the oven skin-side up for five to 10 minutes, and roast until piping hot and crisp.
Potted rabbit
A great starter or tasty, quick lunch with bread and a few gherkins. Serves six to eight as a starter.
Groundnut oil, for frying
1 large wild rabbit, jointed
150g slab smoked bacon, cut into lardons
1 pig's trotter, washed
1 onion, peeled and quartered
2 sticks celery, roughly chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
4-5 thyme sprigs
2 bay leaves
1 large glass white wine
1 tbsp finely chopped parsley
2 tsp Dijon mustard
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Warm a tablespoon or two of oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat and, a few pieces at a time, brown the rabbit on all sides, then brown the bacon. Put the browned meat in a large casserole with the trotter, veg, thyme, bay leaves, wine and enough water to cover. Bring to a simmer, cover, transfer to the oven and cook until just tender, about two hours.
Place a sieve over a saucepan, strain off the liquor into a cooking pot (discard the herbs, vegetables and trotter) and boil to reduce to about 300ml.
While the liquor is reducing, pick the rabbit meat off the bones and shred it with your fingers into a bowl. Finely chop the bacon, add it to the rabbit bowl, along with the parsley and mustard, season and stir gently to combine. Loosely pack the mixture into a terrine or Kilner-type jar and pour over the reduced, gelatinous cooking liquor. Cool, cover and refrigerate until set. Take it out of the fridge about 20 minutes before you serve it.
• Hugh's new cookbook, River Cottage Every Day, is published on Monday by Bloomsbury at £25. To order a limited edition signed copy at the special Guardian reader price of £17.50 plus p&p, go to rivercottage.net/guardian.
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