Sunday, 16 December 2012

Thing Number Five - Bread Sauce

I have to confess that I have never - or not so far as I recall, anyway - actually eaten bread sauce.  It's possible I had some dreadful childhood encounter with it and have repressed the memory, but I think it's unlikely; mine is not a bread sauce sort of family - or, indeed, a Yorkshire Pudding sort of family; I must have been in my late teens before I ever tasted one, though I love them now.  But I do remain wary of bread sauce.  It looks as though it has the sort of squelchy, porridgey consistency I really can't deal with in food.

I wanted to give it a go, though, because in preparation for Christmas, the shops are full of it in sachet form, and those sachets of sauce always annoy me no end.  I always think of them as magic stones, after the story in which a traveller convinces a miserly old woman that he posesses a magic stone which can make wonderful soup... but it would be that bit better if she'd add some onions.  And a bit of bacon.  And some peas.  And tomatoes.  And potatoes.  And so on...  (That's the version I know, at any rate.  There are others but the general idea is the same.)

Sachets of sauce always seem to me to be magic stones in that you need to put in so many things to finish them off that you might as well have made the sauce yourself and had done with it.  For packet bread sauce, you have to add milk, so effectively they're selling you a bag of breadcrumbs, probably with a bit of dried onion and a few spices added... and I can't believe it's actually hard to make bread sauce yourself.  So, let's find out. 

Make onion-flavoured milk

I'm only making a relatively small amount of bread sauce since I have the distinct impression I won't actually like it when it's done.  So, half a pint of full-fat milk goes in a pan with half an onion, cut in two and with a clove stabbed into each piece, a bay leaf (should be fresh but I've only got dried), a pinch of salt, a few peppercorns, and a sprinkling of mace. 


Heat until it's just about boiling and then take it off the hob, cover it and leave it alone for a while.  Half an hour or so would be fine; I left it for the length of time it took to have a bath and roast a chicken.  You please yourself.  Longer will presumably be onion-y-er.

(So far this is quite entertaining to make.  Anything involving sticking cloves into things always appeals, and it's all very medieval...)

Make the sauce

Fish out all the bits and pieces from the milk.  (I realised at this point that it would have been a good idea to count the peppercorns...)


Add about 50g breadcrumbs.  Most of the recipes I've found call for breadcrumbs made from white bread with the crusts removed, presumably to keep the sauce as white as possible.  I used a ciabatta roll, crusts and all, because that was what needed using up and, if we're honest, I don't really care about keeping my sauce dazzlingly bright. 


Heat gently and stir a bit.  (I should probably have used a thicker-bottomed pan; the sauce kept wanting to catch.)


(If there is a way to photograph this and make it look appetising, I haven't found it.  Sorry.)

Keep heating and occasionally stirring for 15 minutes or so, until it's formed a thick sauce.  Then add a bit of butter (this was probably about 5-10g)...


...and some double cream and nutmeg. 


And we're done!

The verdict



Hmmm.  I'm in two minds about this.

On the one hand, I really like nearly all the things that go in to it, and actually, with chicken, it's surprisingly nice.  The onion and spice flavours go well with the meat, and with the meat the texture isn't noticeable so isn't a problem.

On the other hand, it doesn't really go with any of the other things I had on the plate.  It doesn't work with roast onions (the sauce is very oniony in itself, but next to an actual onion it gets lost); potatoes are baffled by it; and with roast tomatoes it's weird and the texture becomes ever so slightly unpleasant.  It's a bit like inviting someone to your party and then realising they a) don't know any of the other people there and b) are temperamentally unsuited to making new friends, with the end result being that you have to focus lots of attention on them and can't just relax and let everything flow together. 

So, maybe not my thing.  But better than a magic stone...



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