#yotam ottolenghi
I first heard about Yotam Ottolenghi in a program detailing the Metropolitan Museum of Arts’s gala for their Versailles Exhibition. He was asked to organized food for the event. He invited five innovative pastry chefs to help him create deserts “fit for a king” (and anyone who bought a ticket).
I loved his passion for his art - pastries - and I was interested in learning more about him.
Ottolenghi was born in Israel. As an adult he moved to Amsterdam, then to London where he learned French Pastry techniques at the London Le Cordon Bleu. There he met his future business partner Sami Tamimi, a Palestinian born chef. They bonded over their shared love of Jerusalem’s and a joint “incomprehension of traditional English food”.
Together they started a deli - Tamimi was put in charge of the savories dishes and Ottolenghi was in charge of the pastries. The two now co-own six delis and restaurants across London. Both are acclaimed cookbook authors.
Ottolenghi describes his cooking philosophy:
“I want drama in the mouth.“
Ottolenghi met his romantic partner Karl Allen in 2000 and they got married in 2012. The two decided to have a children via surrogacy (sons born in 2013 and 2015).
He described coming out:
“… everything was smooth, relatively easy and painless for us. The only obstacle was coming out to our families, which we both did in our twenties. But actually we were not completely liberated gays, we still had a few serious chips on our shoulders… about keeping certain aspects of our lives “private”. It always took me quite a while before a new person earned my trust trust and I could reveal the sex of my allusive partner.”
Ottolenghi had his “second” coming out as a Gay Father in an essay published in 2013. It describe the long process of having their first son conceived via surrogacy. Although it can be expensive, he wanted other gay men know that they too could have families of their own.
Ottolenghi always wanted to have children because of he grew up in a nurturing family. He was in his early 40s abs wanted to inject some new meaning into his life. His partner Karl had some reservations. Until he met Ottolenghi, he never considered having children. But in the end, he agreed - twice!
When thinking about what to write about today, I decided to have a look at Wikipedia’s “Born on this day” feature to see if there was anybody food-related on the list. Happy 49th Birthday, Yotam Ottolenghi! And thank you for being born on this day; this blog post wouldn’t exist without you. I’d never heard of him before – I’ve had quite a few years away from doing any real cooking, so haven’t been adding to my recipe book collection. His food looks gorgeous, really rich and magical, perfect for a feast. Consider the examples below, from Ottolenghi’s own Pinterest boards (click on the images to see what the dishes are called):
They would make a really lovely meal, don’t you think? There are also several dishes which look as thought they would fit perfectly in a feast of crystallised fruits and flowers, alongside the sugar-plums from my post from two days ago. For example:
Again, just click on each picture to see what they are.
However, the dish that I love most of all of Ottolenghi’s that I have seen today takes me back to a favourite book, and a really interesting undergraduate assignment. My undergraduate degree is an M.A. in French and Hispanic Studies from Glasgow University. One of the most interesting Spanish modules was Methodologies of Translation, taught by the wonderful Professor D. Gareth Walters, who sadly is no longer at Glasgow University – I’m not sure where he teachers now. Our main project was to translate two extended pieces of literature of our own choosing, and to compare and contrast the pieces and the process. I chose Bodas de Sangre by Federico Garcia Lorca and Como Agua para Chocolate by Laura Esquivel. I have loved one chapter in Esquivel’s book more than any other, since I first read it. Each chapter is built around a particular recipe, and I chose to translate my favourite chapter, in which Tia makes a dish of quails in rose petal sauce. Hmm, that reminds me that I really should try growing my own flowers next year for use in cooking – it’s always been one of my dreams to have a ready supply of edible flowers.
Anyway, I’ve still never made quails in rose petal sauce, but any recipe mentioning either of these ingredients will catch my attention. You can guess what happened, can’t you? While searching for some biographical information about Ottolenghi, I came across a recipe of his which features both rose petals and quail. Be still, my heart (and stomach). In an article in the Guardian published in time for a Christmas five years ago, the chef suggests cooking quail instead of turkey at Christmas dinner. I’m not sure that I am quite ready for such a bold move, but it’s a beautiful looking dish.
Lamb- and rose-stuffed quails with harissa and apricots
Tiny quails may not seem as impressive as a mammoth turkey, but there is something refreshing about a spread of individual birds on the Christmas table.You can also use chicken or guinea fowl. Serves six.
150g dried apricots
400g minced lamb
150g fresh white breadcrumbs
2 tsp ground cinnamon
2 tsp grated lemon zest
4 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
20g chopped parsley
40g chopped coriander
3 tsp dried rose petals
Salt and black pepper
12 medium-sized quails
1 tbsp olive oil
3 tbsp harissa paste
2 tbsp rosewater
2½ tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp honeyFinely chop 30g of the apricots and put them in a bowl with the lamb, breadcrumbs, cinnamon, lemon zest, garlic, parsley, half the coriander, a teaspoon of rose petals, a teaspoon of salt and plenty of black pepper. Mix well and stuff into the quails.
In another bowl, mix the oil, harissa, rosewater, lemon juice, honey, three-quarters of a teaspoon of salt and some pepper. Rub this all over the quails and marinate in the fridge for at least two hours, and preferably overnight.
Heat the oven to 200C/390F/gas mark 6. Put the quails breast side down in a roasting tray large enough to hold them snugly. Pour over any marinade and 150ml water, cover with foil and roast for 25 minutes.
Meanwhile, cut the remaining apricots into 0.5cm-thick slices and, once the 25 minutes are up, add to the pan. Turn over the quails, return to the oven uncovered, and roast for 20-30 minutes more, until cooked. Remove the quails from the pan and keep them covered in a large bowl.
Tip the sauce from the tray into a medium saucepan and simmer for three to five minutes, until thick. Pour over the quails, add the rest of the coriander and stir to coat. Place the birds on a platter, sprinkle with the remaining rose petals and serve.
Source: The Guardian
Now to decide what dishes should be served with these beautiful golden quails! Unfortunately, Yotam, I hate beetroot so passionately that I cannot contemplate your suggested dish of Sweet and Salty Brussel Sprouts and Beetroot (although I would consider trying the sprouts without the taint of the devil’s vegetable – ). But I’m sure that this won’t ruin your birthday. Now, which of your recipe books should I request in my letter to Santa?
14 December 2017: a birthday feast When thinking about what to write about today, I decided to have a look at Wikipedia’s “Born on this day” feature to see if there was anybody food-related on the list.
