Christmas is coming, and the goose is getting fat. Definitely the goose, not the turkey. “I’ve always been a bit sceptical of turkeys,” says Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. “I struck it from our Christmas menu a while ago, in favour of goose. But this year, I thought I’d give it another go.”
So he got in a few turkey poults – he rears all his own meat, obviously – and at first, all went according to plan.
“They were coming along very nicely,” he says, almost licking his lips. “They were more than half grown, and looking great, and I was starting to get really excited. But the fox had other ideas. So now we’re back to goose.” He leans forward, conspiratorially. “Though what a fox really likes,” he says, “is a duck.”
It is 8:30am – Hugh is an early riser – and we are sitting at a dining table in central London. Here and there are signs of the season: a fluff of tinsel, the occasional card. But we are not here to talk about Christmas. We’re concerned with what comes afterwards.
“In my family, leftovers were the best bit,” says Hugh. “My mum would never roast a lamb without following it with fantastic shepherd’s pie, never roast a chicken without making a stock, and never cook beef without doing lovely beef sandwiches the next day. She has never thrown away a scrap of meat in her life, and that’s been instilled in me.”
At the heart of Christmas is a paradox. Huge effort goes into the festive lunch, but it’s over pretty quickly. Then there are piles of leftovers to eat, and hordes of family to feed. Leftovers, arguably, are more important than the meal itself, but people rarely focus on them. Unless, that is, they’re from River Cottage. “We’ve done a leftovers night before,” says Hugh. “I think restaurants should have a leftover section on a menu. I mean, lots of everybody’s favourite dishes are leftover dishes.”
His new book, Three Good Things on a Plate, is particularly suited to cooking with leftovers. “So many of our favourite plates of food are composed of three contrasting and complimentary elements,” he explains. “Fish, chips and peas. Scones with jam and cream. Bacon, bread and ketchup. If you know which combinations work, you can start to improvise, shuffling one ingredient for another. The idea is to stimulate your creativity, and boost your confidence in the kitchen so you can work with what you’ve got.”
One example, he says, is “a bit of crunch, a bit of vegetable, a bit of fruit”. That might be grilled fennel, clementines and toasted pumpkin seeds – a great way to reduce that mound of Christmas clementines. Or it might be raw celeriac, cut into thin matchsticks, tossed with cold, cooked Puy lentils, and “perked up” with the raisins left over from making the Christmas pudding. “Soak the raisins in warm apple juice or water,” says Hugh, “and let them plump up for an hour or so. The syrupy liquor that’s left can be used for the dressing, with a bit of mustardy cider vinegar to sharpen it up.” These salads also go well with rich meats. Like leftover goose, for instance.
Wintry salads like these form a majorpart of the Fearnley-Whittingstall approach to Christmas. “It’s too easy to get bogged down in very rich food,” he says. “Fresh and zesty salads add leafy freshness and a bit of raw crunch. They sharpen the appetite, keep you sane, and stop you falling into a torpor of goose fat and Christmas pudding.”
A handy festive leftovers combination, he says, is a classic pear, walnut and Stilton salad. If your pear is hard, ripen it in a bowl of bananas, or even poach it. It’s simple and effective: just mix the leftovers, “frizz it up with a few leaves”, dress it, and there you have it.
These dishes really come into their own when combined with cold cuts. “What I want to avoid is just getting out the cold cuts and shredding a bit of iceberg,” he says. “If you want to stay in the festive mood, then there are lots of lively things to muddle with your meat.”
There’s ham, potatoes and parsley: tear off thick strips of leftover ham and toss it with some waxy potatoes and “great handfuls of leafy parsley”. Or there’s ham, oven-baked squash and marmalade (see right). That might seem an unusual combination, but the delicate bitterness of the marmalade is delicious with salty ham, and cuts through the creaminess of the squash.
These recipes, he says, are an easy win, as the hard part – cooking the meat – is done. So it’s just a case of “quick assembly”, using “a bit of imagination” to make the dishes surprising and fresh.
Moreover, meat is handy when you’re trying to feed the multitudes. Whether it’s leftover pork, turkey, goose, chicken, or even chipolatas wrapped in bacon, just “bash a knife through it” and “frazzle it up” in a frying pan until crispy, perhaps with spices like cumin, coriander, or curry powder.
These “little shards of crispy meat” can be sprinkled on a salad of pulses, crunchy roots, or winter leaves. The resulting salad has real substance and zing, and will go a long way.
And then there’s pudding. When Hugh was a boy, he would place himself in charge of making the brandy butter, as he loved “dabbling with alcohol”. His own children, however, are thrilled by chocolate. “They get whatever chocolate is kicking around and turn it into really nice petit* fours,” he says. “They melt the chocolate, spread it out in a thin layer on a baking sheet, and sprinkle in whatever comes to hand.”
Dark chocolate, he says, goes nicely with dried apricots and coconut. White chocolate is lovely with leftover cranberries and poppy seeds; milk chocolate matches up with raisins and salty peanuts. When the chocolate has set, simply break it into chunks and tumble it into a bowl.
What about that leftover Christmas pud? An impish smile slides across his chops. “It’s a bit greedy,” he says, “but I sizzle slabs of it in melted butter. I serve it with vanillaice cream and a trickle of cider brandy.”
My notebook is stuffed to bursting. Before meeting Hugh, I had been looking forward to Christmas. Now I’m keener on the days afterwards, when I plan to be very greedy indeed.
Quick, tasty snacks
The classic turkey sandwich
“I like a little bit of tang, to keep alive the festive mood. So I add some home-made plum sauce, a sort of hoi sin sauce. I cook down plums, garlic and ginger, sieve them and make them into a nice compote, though cooked a little longer than a compote. I bottle it and keep it. With a leftover pork sandwich it is particularly fine. Or if you’re too lazy, just get some decent mayonnaise and whack some capers in it.”
Leftover roast potatoes
“Try a classic leek and potato soup. You get a really delicious nuttiness, as you can taste the roastiness in the same way as you would with a roasted pumpkin soup. It provides a caramel edge, an extra flavour. Alternatively, simply serve them cold, in their semi-disintegrated state, with a bit of mayonnaise.”
Overcooked sprouts
“A good way to avoid overcooking them is to shred them and serve them raw in a salad. But if you have committed that cardinal sin, they can still make a nice bubble and squeak. Cook down half an onion to get a bit of sweetness going, then throw in some leftover roast potatoes and shredded sprouts. Turn the heat right up to get a bit of crispness, then pack it into the pan to make a cake. That with a fried egg on top is a pretty nice treat. If all else fails, make a celeriac and sprout soup, topped with crispy bacon.”
'Three Good Things’ by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall (Bloomsbury, RRP £25) is available from Telegraph Books at £23 + £1.35 p&p (0844 871 1516; books.telegraph.co.uk).
