‘Naked Chef’ keeps it simple, sensible for kitchen novices

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THE NAKED CHEF TAKES OFF, by Jamie Oliver, Hyperion, New York, 2001, 288 pages, $34.95

I can hear you snickering at the back there, and I will put up with it no longer. I know that some of you may find the concept of an Englishman publishing a cookbook a little, well, on the laughable side. After all, British (and English in particular) cooking is hardly one of the most respected of the world’s cuisines, commonly associated, as it is, with punishingly overcooked vegetables, impenetrable gravies, and lard. Indeed, while some Brits feel the way to a man’s heart is through a nice bit of toad-in-the-hole, most of the rest of the world feels it is the way to the hospital cardiac unit.

So, you’ll be pleased to hear that Jamie Oliver mostly skirts the classics of English cooking in his second cookbook, “The Naked Chef Takes Off,” instead opting for a global mash of recipes, drawing influences from the West Indies to India and, of course, from all his muckers. Expect Thai broths, carpaccios, curries and creme brulee. Forget the shepherd’s pie and spotted dick.

But much more important here, is not the recipes that Oliver chooses, but his style, which is well represented by this book.

In the opening of Oliver’s first television series “The Naked Chef,” he seems to suggest that the show is not so much about him, as about the food. This is disingenuous. Of course it’s about him. After all, decent chefs are fetching about a nickel for five these days – just check the proliferation of celebrity-chef shows on the Food Network. Oliver’s strength from the start has been his personality and his “blokiness.” It’s an attitude that has surely driven many young men into the kitchen – or driven many young women to drive their young men into the kitchen – helping take food out of the realm of the poncy and into everyday life. How long can it be before male rites of passage include not just the 12 pints of bitter in one session, but the first successful souffle? O.K., maybe I’m getting a little carried away here.

Much like Oliver himself, “The Naked Chef Takes Off” is larger and louder than life, full of irreverence, cheeky language, and generally, absolutely full of it, mate. And best of all, it’s perfect for people like you and me – you know – those of us who aren’t professional chefs, but are willing to have a bash at cooking something different every now and then. Oliver walks the walk when he says he wants to strip recipes down. Unlike so many of his fellow chefs, he understands the difference between cooking in a top kitchen, with dozens of prep chefs and a world of ingredients, and cooking at home, in a minuscule kitchen, having trawled around the local supermarket for a couple of desolate hours. Preparation times are frequently minimal, ingredients rarely run to more than a dozen per recipe, and sometimes are a lot fewer. Some recipes almost acquire a Zen simplicity, such as Malted Milk Balls and Ice Cream (bash malted milk balls, sprinkle over vanilla ice cream.)

Unfortunately – and this is one of very few criticisms I have of what is otherwise an excellent book – simplicity is sometimes Oliver’s downfall. I could very easily be wrong here, but I suspect this book was not edited by someone who spends much time in the kitchen. On occasion, ingredient amounts and methods are left just a little too vague, seeming to assume a familiarity with the recipe that we just don’t have. It can make life especially difficult for those at whom, it seems, this book is most targeted – those relatively uninitiated in the culinary arts. Still, it is not a problem so pervasive that I would hesitate to recommend “Takes Off.”

In fact more of a problem might be wading through Oliver’s colloquial writing, littered with London wide-boy humor – although some of the funniest moments come unintentionally, where someone appears to have made the occasional attempt to translate from English to American, with some surreal results.

Luckily, there were few surreal results with the recipes we took a bash at. The highly self-descriptive Salmon Fillet Wrapped in Prosciutto with Herby Lentils, Spinach and Yogurt, turned out looking like about twice the amount of work it was, and tasted even better. Greens, beans, meat and fish, all done in about 10 minutes.

For real salad simplicity, with an interesting and aggressive bite, Mozzarella and Grilled Chili Salad proved to be just the ticket. The chili peppers, rather than overwhelming the mozzarella, become wrapped in its broad strokes.

Finally, easy in execution, pure in flavor, Chocolate Pots are typical of Oliver’s approach, dressing up a very simple idea for a night out on the town.

All in all, pretty wikkid, Jamie me old china. Pukka nosh all round, and a sweet cookbook.

Salmon Fillet Wrapped

in Prosciutto with Herby Lentils, Spinach and

Yogurt

9 ounces lentils

Four 8 ounces salmon fillets, skinned and pin-boned

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

8 slices of prosciutto

olive oil

juice of 1 lemon

2 good handfuls of mixed herbs (flat-leaf parsley, basil, mint), chopped

3/4 cup plain yogurt

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Put the lentils into a pan, cover with water, bring to a boil and simmer until tender. Season the salmon fillets with a little pepper before wrapping them in the prosciutto slices. Leave some of the flesh exposed. Drizzle with olive oil and roast in the oven for around 10 minutes until the prosciutto is golden. Feel free to cook the salmon for less time if pinker is to your liking. Drain away most of the water from the lentils and season carefully with salt, pepper, the lemon juice, and four good glugs of olive oil. Just before serving, stir the herbs and spinach into the lentils over high heat, until wilted. Place onto plates with the salmon and finish with a drizzle of the yogurt, seasoned lightly with salt and pepper and stirred well. Thin the yogurt with a little milk if necessary.

(Serves 4)

Mozzarella and Grilled Chili Salad

I normally use one fresh chili to every ball of Mozzarella, but do use more or less as you please. Prick the chilies with a knife, otherwise they can puff up and explode in your face, and place them straight onto the flame if you have a gas stove. If you don’t have gas, put them in a pan on the highest setting of your electric stove. Both ways, you need to blacken the chilies on all sides, so turn when need be. When fully blackened, place in a sandwich bag, wrap in plastic, or cover in a bowl for 5 minutes until cool. This will steam the skins and make peeling and seeding easier.

While the chilies are steaming, gently rip up your mozzarella into 4 or 5 pieces and randomly place on a large plate. Peel and seed the chilies and slice lengthwise as thinly as you like. It’s quite important to scatter them evenly over the mozzarella, and very important to wash your hands after doing so before you rub your eyes or anything else! Now rip up some purple and green basil over the top, and sprinkle with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. Add a little lemon juice and a generous glug of olive oil. Nice one.

Chocolate Pots

1 cup light cream

7 ounces best-quality semisweet or bittersweet chocolate

2 large egg yolks

3 tablespoons brandy, the best you can get

1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons butter

In a thick-bottomed pan, heat the cream until nearly boiling. Remove and set aside for 1 minute before snapping in your chocolate. Stir in until melted and smooth. Once melted, beat in your egg yolks and brandy, and stir until smooth. Allow to cool slightly before stirring in the butter until the mixture is smooth. Pour into individual serving pots.

P.S. Sometimes if you add the butter when the chocolate isn’t cool enough it will make the chocolate look as if it has split. To rectify this, allow the mixture to cool a little longer before whisking in a little cold milk until you have a smooth consistency again.

(Serves 4)