Just three core ingredients - bangers, potatoes and gravy - are needed for the ultimate pub classic: sausage and mash. Richard Fox reveals how to prepare the perfect dish.
If pub classics were the pieces of a chessboard, sausage and mash would undoubtedly be the king. Indeed, their gastronomic might is better understood when we appreciate the fact that they have been a kitchen staple in all kitchens, in all countries in the world since ancient Greece.
Now that's what I call pedigree. It's got strength of flavour in the sausage; the seductive power of a silky mash and the sublime finish of a rich onion gravy: a triumph of content over style. It's the one dish that can win you the game.
What's more remarkable is the variety that can be achieved with just three core ingredients. From the traditional pork, to beer-infused boar, through to cholesterol free venison, there's a taste and texture to suit every palate. The mash itself can vary from rich, buttery and smooth, to a resting place for all manner of onions, garlic, lemon-infused cabbage and mustards.
It's also the one dish that retains gastronomic credibility in the face of manufactured gravy granules. It would be preposterous to refer to the liquid element of this dish as a jus - even if it did emerge from a lovingly-tended veal-based stock.
The fact is there are a multitude of ingredients just begging to lift the standard gravy into a personalised world of its own. A good slug of ale, fried onions, honey and juniper berries are all legitimate contenders for "making gravy great".
As far as the sausages go, you really do get what you pay for. But even the finest artisan product will leave you plenty of change compared with almost any other cut of meat of the same weight.
When it comes to cooking sausages, caramelisation of the skin is essential. There's nothing worse than trying to bite into the chewy, pasty skin of a poorlycooked sausage. You're aiming for that perfect texture contrast of a dark brown, almost crispy, outer layer and a soft, juicy centre. The best way to achieve this in a commercial environment is either to oven roast until just cooked, then chargrill, or to pan-fry to get the colour before heating through in the oven.
Given the number of regional variations and the fact that many butchers are proud to sell their own recipes, it's well worth sourcing your own local sausage king. Chances are, they'll already have a good reputation locally, and you can use this when marketing your own menu.
You can then build on the local stalwart to create something of a sausage menu, including the increasingly-popular venison and wild boar. Langthornes, a supplier of buffalo and other unusual or rare breed produce in my locality, makes Iron Age pig sausages that flash out of its farmers' market catering unit faster than you can say "pigs might fly". Tracking down suppliers of such unusual and tasty breeds can only increase the distinctiveness of your menu.
Mash is the backbone of this culinary giant - and can make or break the dish, regardless of sausage quality. Get it wrong and you end up with a glutinous mass more appropriate for hanging wallpaper than adorning a plate. It's essential to choose the right potato, cooking and mashing methods if this scenario is to be avoided.
I opt for a middle-of-the-road, reliable all-rounder such as the Maris Piper. Cut each potato into roasty-size chunks and place in a pan of cold water. Next is the salt - very, very important. Although seasoning can be corrected at the end of cooking, this is no substitute for the flavour-enhancing method of salting before cooking. It will penetrate the vegetable and you'll end up with a full flavour of potato rather than an aftertaste of raw salt.
When the potatoes are just starting to fall apart, drain thoroughly in a colander, then return them to the pan and to the stove. Water is the enemy of potatoes and it should spend the least amount of time possible in contact with it. Putting them back on the heat and agitating the pan for a minute or so is the best way to steam off any residual water. Potatoes should be mashed while still warm, and as far as I'm concerned there are only two ways to do this: through a vegetable mouli or a potato ricer. Mashing by any other means can release the starch in the potato, causing undesirable stickiness - not to mention lumps, wrist fatigue and wasted money when flimsy utensils bend or break.
Once you have a properly-seasoned, smooth mass of potato, personal preference can come into play. You can melt butter in a similar quantity of milk and gently fold in, or add cubes of butter to the hot potato mixture, with a dash of cream or milk for extra indulgence.
Now is the time to let your imagination run wild - or at least on a loose leash for a while. Dijon or wholegrain mustard are perfect partners, as are richly-browned, caramelised onions or roasted garlic. Some well-drained strips of savoy cabbage can add a seasonal and traditional taste, while a little white truffle oil can give a Michelin starred flavour. If you want to make things a little healthier, add a generous slug of olive oil and some chopped black olives.
Finally, onto the current culinary hot potato (no pun intended): beer and food matching. Of all the dishes in all the world, sausage and mash is made for beer. It's no coincidence that many commercial sausage makers add beer to the sausage mixture. Pork and its tusk-bearing relatives have been northern European staples for centuries. These countries have also been some of the most important - and skilled - beer maker in the world. Belgium, Germany and the UK are as famous for their sausage prowess as their beer. It seems the powerful, herb-infused flavours of sausage are a perfect match for the malty, hoppy and fruity beers that characterise these nations.
Try complementing the sweet caramelisation on the outside of a roasted, fried or grilled sausage with the rich, sweet fruitiness of a strong Suffolk ale or a Trappist Chimay from Belgium. But balance and contrast also come from their inherent hoppy bitterness - just to add further depth and power to the whole experience. And there we have it: the king of pub classics — rich, powerful and with impeccable taste.