Sorachi onion soup

French onion soup with IPA – that was the idea that leapt into my head one afternoon, whilst daydreaming at work.  Not French onion soup accompanied by IPA – I mean with the beer in the soup, as part of the broth. There’s nothing new, of course, and as I googled the term I discovered I’m not the first to have the idea. But I did come up with a twist that I figured was worth a try – what if I was to use a single hop Sorachi Ace IPA? It’s an unusual and divisive hop that, to me, is a big burst of citrus (lemon and clementine) with a herbal edge which recalls dill. The fruitiness will match the tang of the cheese toasts which sit, oozing on top of the broth, whilst that savoury element is a natural partner for the herbs in the soup.

Beers showcasing Sorachi Ace aren't as unusual as they used to be, though they tend to stick to the saison style (the eponymous examplefrom Brooklyn Brewery, Wild Beer’s Epic Saison, or Adnams' version for Marks & Spencer – all great beers). The only beer I've come across that fits the bill is Weird Beard’s Sorachi Face Plant, so that’s what I'm using here.

As a guide, I referred to Felicity Cloake’s ‘perfect’ French onion soup recipe, making certain changes where necessary. I'm not using any cider or brandy, as I don’t want to confuse the flavour of the beer, and I'm using vegetable stock in place of beef, as I don’t eat meat. I'm also using cheddar cheese for my toasts – not very French, I know, but I love cheddar with sweet onions and I think it’s a perfect foil for hop bitterness.

The Ginger Pig, whose recipe I initially found, suggested that the chosen beer shouldn't be “too gutsy”. This is clearly not the case for the 8.6% beast I'm using. There is a lingering, boozy bitterness in the finished dish but, I would suggest, no more than there would have been had I added a nip of brandy at the last moment, as many recipes suggest. To me, it isn't too much, especially in combination with the cheese toasts, and a taste of the beer on the side pulls everything together beautifully. If you don’t want this bitterness, something like Adnams' Marks & Spencer saison, or Bristol Beer Factory’s Sorachi, a more subtle golden ale, might make a good substitute.

This recipe takes time, but it’s not labour intensive – most of the time, you can be elsewhere while the dish cooks.

INGREDIENTS (makes 2 small, starter-sized portions or one main course)

80g butter

5 onions (based on the medium-sized ones in a kilogram bag)

1 tsp plain flour

1 tsp balsamic vinegar

Pinch of dried thyme

1 bay leaf

300ml vegetable stock

200ml beer (Sorachi Face Plant or other Sorachi Ace beer)

1 tsp sugar

6 medium-thick slices of baguette

Grated cheddar cheese

METHOD

First, prepare the onions by peeling, halving and finely slicing.

Melt the butter in a large pan over a low to medium heat. When it’s melted, add the onions. Fry for a few minutes, then sprinkle with a generous pinch of salt. Stir frequently for about 10 minutes, until they begin to become soft and translucent.

Stir in the thyme and bay leaf, then turn the heat right down and put a lid on the pan. This will retain the moisture and help the onions to soften and caramelise quicker. They’ll still need at least an hour – 90 minutes if possible – until they’re a rich caramel colour.

Add the flour to the pan and stir for a minute or so. Now add the vinegar and roughly half of the beer along with the vegetable stock. If your flour has gone lumpy, you may need to use a whisk at this point. Simmer the broth for around another hour until it has significantly reduced, which will allow for the addition of the remaining beer at the last moment.

While the soup reduces, heat the grill and toast your baguette slices on both sides. Set these aside. Grate as much cheese as you dare to top the toasts later.

When the soup is looking thicker, heat the grill again, ready to grill the cheese toasts when the soup if finished.

Add a teaspoon of sugar to the broth, which will counteract some of the bitterness in the beer. Check the seasoning, and then stir in the remaining beer. Keep the heat very low, and stir just long enough to heat, but not reduce any further.

Ladle the soup into bowls. Top with the toasted baguette slices, then cover in grated cheese. Place the bowls under the grill until the cheese is melted and bubbling.

Serve, ideally with a glass of the same beer you used to cook as an accompaniment.  

London Smoke porter & chipotle BBQ sauce

With BBQ season firmly upon us, smoked beer is never far from my mind. And since my BBQ beans cooked with Beavertown Smog Rocket porter went a while ago, I decided to tweak the recipe to make a rich, tangy BBQ sauce that I could store in my fridge in anticipation of my first BBQ of the year. I only made a few changes – a little less passata, a little more beer. Some added mushroom ketchup (which I use as a vegetarian alternative to Worcestershire sauce – if you don’t mind the anchovy content, you could use that instead) and tamarind sauce for extra depth and tang. And some chipotle chilli, for added smoke and a fiery kick.

Having used Smog Rocket already, I didn't want to go with the same beer this time around. Smoked porter is undoubtedly the way to go – the smoke is appropriate, and the roasted malts match the sweet treacle in the sauce. So this time I've opted for Five Points’ London Smoke. It’s a big beer in many ways – rich, boozy, full of coffee, chocolate and currant flavours, amongst others. The smoke is not hugely pronounced, but gives a meaty background that will work. It’s quite bitter, so an extra touch of sugar is needed.

The sauce tastes great. If you eat meat, I imagine this could make for a really special burger. And as you tuck into your juicy half-pounder, you might pity me with my dry, lifeless soya patty – but you needn't bother, because I've come to love the ‘hockey puck’ veggie burger. Especially with one of these on top.

Ingredients      

• 1 chopped onion

• 1 tsp smoked garlic powder, or 2 cloves fresh smoked garlic, minced or crushed

• 1 tsp chipotle paste or half a dried chipotle chili, deseeded and finely chopped

• Generous pinch of smoked paprika

• Pinch of oregano

• 200ml Five Points London Smoke, or other smoked porter

• 150ml passata

• 1 tsp black treacle/molasses

• 2 tbsp tomato puree

• 1 tbsp soft dark brown sugar, plus an extra pinch

• 1 tbsp Dijon mustard

• 1 tbsp red wine vinegar

• 1 tsbp mushroom ketchup or Worcestershire sauce

• 1 tsp tamarind sauce

Method

• Fry the onion on a medium heat for about 5 minutes, until soft and golden.
• Stir in the smoked garlic, chipotle, oregano and smoked paprika and fry for another minute or so.
• Add the passata and stir in all of the other ingredients and season. Retain a small amount of the beer (around 10-15ml) and keep to one side.
• Reduce the heat as far as possible whilst keeping the sauce at a simmer. Stir frequently to make sure it isn’t burning, and simmer for around an hour, or until thick, checking the seasoning several times. It’s unlikely to ever become quite as thick and gloopy as a bottled BBQ sauce, but use this consistency as a guide.
• Once you reach your desired consistency, remove the pan from the heat and set to one side to cool.
• Once cooled, transfer the sauce into a blender or food processor with the remaining beer. Once smooth, return to the blended sauce to the pan.
• Whilst the sauce reheats, wash and sterilise a jar. To do this, thoroughly wash the jar with washing up liquid and hot water, but don’t dry it. Then place it in the oven upside down on a baking tray and turn on the heat. After a few minutes, turn it the other way up. Keep checking it, and when the moisture has dried, remove it from the oven. Fill it with the warm sauce and fit the lid tightly. Once the jar has cooled, put it in the fridge until ready to serve. 

Smog Rocket baked beans

Though I reserve a special kind of disgust for the luminous-orange tinned monstrosity that is commonly sold under the name ‘baked beans’, the rich, tangy, home-made, cowboy-style version of the dish is one of my favourite things to eat. Piled on top of some thick toast with some strong cheddar grated on top, these beans are a perfect winter warmer. Stir in some smoked paprika and cumin and they make a great filling for a Tex Mex-style burrito, too. And whilst the worst of winter might be behind us now, as the weather warms up, I'm still craving those beans. In the US, Boston beans are often served as a side dish to BBQ food; there’s a similar depth of flavour and sweet and sour tang. As the smell of smoke in the air begins to signify summer barbecues rather than winter bonfires, I find myself thinking up ways to replicate the smokiness from the open fire in the dish. The answer is, obviously, beer.

Mark Dredge has made a version of this dish using Schlenkerla Marzen, which looks great.  Whilst acknowledging his idea, I want to use my own recipe for the beans, which is based on various different versions I've tweaked and compiled over the years. When it comes to the beer, I want something dark and rich, smoked but subtle with it. A porter should work with the treacle in the dish, so I'm opting for Beavertown’s Smog Rocket. This beer was originally conceived as a match for BBQ ribs, so it should be especially appropriate. Mark notes that even with a full on rauchbier, he didn't end up tasting much smoke in his beans, so I'm going to use smoked garlic in place of regular garlic, and season with smoked salt, too. I'm reducing the amount of treacle in the recipe, as the beer should add a similar depth of flavour, and whereas I’d normally add some vegetable stock, I'm getting rid of it here to account for the beer.

How does it taste? Beautiful. The smoke is there, just a hint in the background, and would complement barbecued food perfectly – I’ll be making this as a side dish for my back garden BBQs this summer – but the beer’s principal value here is adding richness and deep, moreish flavour.

Ingredients

• 2 cans of borlotti beans, drained (the classic tinned version of baked beans are haricot, but you could use almost any variety. I particularly like borlotti beans and most recipes suggest them)
• 1 tsp smoked garlic powder (you can used fresh smoked garlic, but I've found the powder to be more pungently smoky. I buy it in a resealable packet from the specialist ingredient section of Sainsbury’s)
• 1 onion, chopped
• 150ml Beavertown Smog Rocket smoked porter
• 200ml passata
• 1 tsp black treacle/molasses
• 2 tbsp tomato puree
• 1 tbsp soft dark brown sugar
• 1 tbsp Dijon mustard
• 1 tbsp red wine vinegar

1. Preheat the oven to about 160°.

      2. Find a pan which has a lid and is suitable for both the stovetop and the oven – a cast-iron casserole or similar is ideal. Fry the onion until soft and golden, then add the garlic powder and fry off for another minute or so.

      3. Keep the beans to one side, and combine all of the other ingredients in the pan to make a sauce. Once combined, add the beans and bring to a boil.

      4.  Once the dish has come to the boil, turn off the hob, place the lid on the pan and put it into the oven. Bake for about 90 minutes, stirring every now and again. Be sure to scrape the stodgy, caramelised, crusty bits from the edge of the pan and stir them back into the sauce, as they’re full of flavour.

      5.  After 90 minutes, remove the lid and check the consistency. By now it should have thickened, with little excess liquid floating to the top. Once you reach this point, remove the lid and return the pan to the oven to reduce further. It may not sound appetising, but this dish tastes best when it’s gloopy, so put it back, uncovered, in the oven until it is a shade of reddish brown, thick and looking almost crusty on the surface. Remove from the heat and stir before serving.

Priory-Ale-braised-sausages

Beer-braised sausages is one of the most straight forward and obvious ways to incorporate beer into cooking. Google it and you’ll find pages and pages of results; even Stella Artois appear to have a recipe for it (although the link doesn't appear to work in the UK. Probably no big loss; fizzy macro beer may be snidely referred to as ‘cooking lager’, but actually following through with that idea seems kind of nuts). I've been wanting to make a version since having a sausage dish cooked in cider. I wanted to make a similar meal at home, but didn't want to be stuck with the remaining half bottle; I don’t like cider, and it would most likely end up down the sink. And as my mind turned to beer alternatives, I remembered Harvey’s Priory Ale, a beer that has seemed to be screaming out for an accompanying banger every time I've tasted it.

Priory Ale is an interpretation of the kind of beers that might have been produced at a brewery at the Priory of St. Pancras in the Sussex town of Lewes in 1264. It uses only ingredients that would have been available to these brewers; these include hops, but also yarrow, rosemary and thyme, with a grain bill mixing barley, oats and wheat. I first picked up a bottle from Harvey's brewery shop on a whim, simply because I’d never seen it before. I expected little more than a dusty historical curiosity, but was caught out by how unusual this beer is; amongst other things, I taste shandy, Parma Violets and menthol eucalyptus in it, but in this dish, the odder flavours fade into the background and the herbal and citrus notes shine through, working perfectly with the sausages.

My base recipe is this one from the Waitrose website, though I've made several tweaks beyond my selected beer. Perhaps most significantly, I used vegetarian sausages, as I don’t eat meat. I say this knowing full well that Harvey’s beers, amongst countless others, are filtered with isinglass, and therefore not strictly vegetarian. I am personally happy to look past this tiny trace of animal produce in my beer and don’t consider this a contradiction – and in any case, this recipe isn't set in stone, and can be easily produced with a fully vegetarian-friendly beer, or with genuine pork sausages in place of the soya substitute. Whilst I do think the particular beer I used leant a certain richness to the dish, I think just about any ale with a decent depth of flavour will have something to offer.

I made another couple of minor changes – I swapped onions for leeks, for example, because I don't want too much sticky sweetness, and omitted wholegrain mustard from the beer and sausage broth. Instead, I stirred a teaspoon of it through the mashed potatoes than accompanied the dish but, if I were to serve it without mash, I’d include it as per the original Waitrose recipe. Another tweak I made, which might seem a little odd, is the inclusion of a splash of soy sauce. I always do this with veggie gravies, as it adds richness and a little seasoning but the soy sauce flavour per se is not detectable. Apart from anything else, it transformed this dish’s slightly anaemic translucent golden brown colour to something much more befitting a sausage casserole. This step may not be necessary if you're cooking with meat.

This is great comfort food, best consumed on the sofa in front of the TV. My one regret is that I didn't have the foresight to procure a beer to accompany the meal; as I ate, I wished I had a bottle of Fuller’s London Porter on the side.

Harvey’s Priory Ale-braised sausages

Recipe serves a greedy lone diner, but quantities are easily multiplied

Ingredients

3 sausages (vegetarian or otherwise)

1 ½ trimmed leeks, sliced

1 tbsp plain white flour

225ml Harvey’s Battle of Lewes Priory Ale

150ml vegetable stock

Splash of dark soy sauce

1. Heat oil in a frying pan or casserole with a lid, and cook the sausages slightly short of  manufacturer’s instructions, until cooked through but only just golden brown. Remove from the pan and set aside

2. Add the leaks to the pan and cook for 5 or 6 minutes until softened. Add the flour and fry off for a brief minute, then add the beer and bring to a simmer. Add the stock and soy sauce, then return the sausages to the pan and place a lid on for around 15 minutes. Taste a few times, adjusting the seasoning as necessary.

3. Remove the lid and cook for around 5 more minutes, until the liquid has thickened and acquired a rich, sticky texture. Goes very well with a creamy mustard mash.