Moorish

In 2014 I opened my restaurant Ember Yard where everything was cooked over wood or charcoal, Mediterranean style. The dishes were inspired by the techniques and flavours found in Spain and Italy – slow-cooked, spiced, smoky, meat, lots of fish, vegetables and fruit.

Take a trip through Sicily or Andalucía and you will see restaurants and homes all cooking this way, using the grill as an extension of the kitchen – at the most basic, a simple wood-fired grill built at the back of the building.

The Arabs refined the art of cooking over an open fire, bringing their knowledge along with their culinary wisdom on their conquest of southern Europe. Their inherent understanding of how to harness flavour and how best to cook fresh ingredients was inspiring and influential. Smoke was used as a flavouring, spices infused dishes as they cooked, while vegetables were laid on the dying embers of the fire to soften and take on delicious charred, smoky flavours.

When arriving in Europe the Moors looked to the local lean livestock for sustenance, which was duly slaughtered, rubbed and basted with herbs such as cinnamon, marjoram and cumin to install maximum taste and then cooked whole over a slow fire thus ensuring the meat didn’t dry out.

Experience has taught us about the finer points of cooking with fire and which wood works best with which kind of produce. Oak is a great all-rounder but has a preference for the fatty meat flavours. Silver birch is light and fresh and works well with fish and vegetables. Cherry and apple wood are great with chicken and lighter, lean meats.

There’s no better way to cook fresh fish than quickly over the grill, burnishing the skin so that it’s charred and crispy, the flesh lightly cooked retaining its moist, juicy flavour.

Pinchos morunos typifies the Moorish legacy in Spain – a type of kebab that has developed over the years to become one of Andalucía’s signature dishes. Originally the kebab would have been lamb but now you are just as likely to find it threaded with Ibérico pork, spiced with cumin, smoked paprika and black pepper and grilled quickly over a charcoal grill so that it caramelises on the outside while remaining pink and juicy within, finished with a sprinkling of good olive oil and lemon. (See here for my take on this classic.)

All the recipes in this chapter are at their best when cooked over charcoal or wood but will also be delicious if cooked using an oven grill or griddle – just be prepared to open the kitchen windows to let the smoke out.

Cauliflowers are incredibly versatile and they really take to roast and grilling – rather like a piece of meat – largely due to their density and how compact the florets are. Don’t discard the cauliflower leaves; they are incredibly delicious when roasted and help the cooking process of this dish by gently steaming the cauliflower from beneath.

Cauliflower dishes are popular in Sicily where they roast the florets and toss through pasta dishes and gratins, perhaps with spices such as saffron and sweetness from raisins. This particular dish has more of a nod to the Middle East than Sicily, but the spirit and inspiration is there.

Do try to get the sublime rose harissa, if not a regular harissa will do nicely.

Trim the very end of the base of the cauliflower to flatten it, so the cauliflower can stand up straight on its own. Place the cauliflower on a roasting tray and spread out the cauliflower leaves at the base.

Put all the spices into a pestle and mortar or spice grinder and grind to a powder.

Liberally drizzle olive oil over the cauliflower and leaves, then sprinkle with the spices and garlic. Season well. Rub the cauliflower with your hands to massage in the spices. Place in the oven and roast for 25 minutes.

Drizzle more oil over the cauliflower and turn down the heat to 140°C/120°C fan/Gas Mark 1. Roast for a further 1 hour or until the cauliflower is beautifully browned and very tender.

Meanwhile, heat some oil in a medium saucepan, add the onions and cook over a medium heat for 25 minutes or until they are a deep golden brown.

Serve the cauliflower hot, cutting into 4 wedges at the table. Dollop some yoghurt, fried onions and rose harissa on to each wedge.

The aubergine is a wonderful vegetable much in need of an exotic climate to flourish to its full potential. And as Spain has just such a climate and terrain the Moors eagerly introduced this most richly satisfying of vegetables to the Mediterranean early in the Middle Ages – it has flourished there ever since. Ibn al Awwam, in his treatise on agriculture written in the 12th century, describes exactly how to grow the perfect aubergine in the ideal climate and his guidance, knowingly or otherwise, is followed to this day.

As a cook, it is hard not to love the aubergine but it does demand the right cooking techniques to bring out the best in it. A bland and watery aubergine is a crime against your time and the vegetable itself. Deep-frying in a light batter is a lovely technique that can produce wonderful results though I prefer charring and smoking the skin over an open flame, softening the delicious flesh within.

Preheat the oven to 190°C/170°C fan/Gas Mark 5, or set up and light your barbecue. Prick the aubergines lightly with a fork. If you will be baking the aubergines in the oven, hold them, one at a time, on a long-handled fork over a direct flame on the hob to blister and char the skin all over. If using a barbecue place the aubergines over the hot coals and cook, turning with tongs, until the skin is blistered and charred. Set the aubergines aside.

Heat a glug of olive oil in a sauté pan over a low heat, add the garlic and fry until softened and very lightly browned. Add the fenugreek and bread and continue to cook for 3 minutes or until the bread has browned and the fenugreek is fragrant. Place the bread-garlic mix in a food processor along with the parsley, almonds, olives, red wine vinegar and extra virgin olive oil. Pulse-blitz for 1 minute to form a rough paste. Transfer to a bowl. Season this stuffing and stir in the preserved lemon.

Slit the aubergines open from stalk to base, cutting only about two-thirds of the way through so they are still intact. Fill the cavities with the stuffing. Drizzle over some olive oil and season. Wrap each aubergine in foil, then either place on a baking tray in the oven or back on the barbecue (to the side of the coals and with the lid closed). Cook for about 25 minutes or until the aubergine flesh is very soft.

Remove the aubergines and leave to rest for 10 minutes before opening the foil parcels and serving (leaving in the foil for a rustic touch). Serve with labneh or yoghurt.

I love to cook stone fruits over the barbecue – the sugars slowly caramelise intensifying the fruits’ sweetness while lightly singeing and smoking the edges. This is where the beauty of live-fire cooking comes into its own.

I use a Spanish goat’s cheese for this recipe but any soft, creamy cheese will do nicely – it’s important that the cheese contrasts and cools the sweet smoky peaches. Chestnut honey adds a deep, nutty-caramel flavour to the proceedings.

Prepare and light a charcoal fire in a barbecue – the coals should burn down to an ashen grey before cooking. Alternatively, heat a ridged grill pan over maximum heat on the hob.

Toast the almonds in a small dry pan until lightly golden. Season with sea salt and drizzle over some olive oil, then set aside.

Dab the cut side of the peach halves with kitchen paper to soak up excess moisture, then drizzle with a little oil. Place the peaches cut side down on the barbecue or grill pan and cook for 4–5 minutes or until caramelised and lightly singed at the edges. The juices will drip on to the hot coals and create a little smoke that will flavour the peaches.

Turn the peaches over and lay a sprig of thyme on each cut side. Continue to cook for 2–3 minutes to soften the peaches on the other side.

Divide the grilled peaches and goat’s cheese among 4 plates or bowls. Drizzle over the honey and scatter the almonds on top. Serve as a starter or a cheese course.

Charcoal-grilled Peaches

The food markets of Sicily are awash with artichokes in the summer months. The artichoke is taken very seriously in Sicily and is one of the season’s highlights.

The favourite way to cook these is over charcoal, nestled in the embers of a fire or barbecue. Drive through Sicily during the summer season and you’ll see plumes of smoke bellowing out all along your route. And the smoke is the key to this dish, working deliciously with the bitterness of the artichokes.

I prefer the smaller, more tender artichokes for this recipe – the larger ones can still be tough even after a couple of hours in the coals.

Prepare and light a charcoal fire in a barbecue. When the coals have turned ashen grey, spread them out evenly.

Whisk together the oil, parsley and garlic along with a pinch of salt. Toss the artichokes through this mix, then place them in the barbecue, nestling them into the embers (use long-handled tongs). There will be a lot of smoke initially but don’t be alarmed – this will flavour the artichokes. When the smoke dies down, leave the artichokes to cook for 1½–2 hours, turning them occasionally to ensure even cooking.

Remove the artichokes from the barbecue and cut them into quarters. Place on a serving dish. Squeeze over the lemon juice, sprinkle with sea salt and pour over any remaining olive oil-parsley mix. Serve with the pine nut, cumin and milk sauce.

Note: The artichokes can also be cooked on a baking tray in the oven at 170°C/150°C fan/Gas Mark 3½ for the same time. You won’t get the smokiness but they will be delicious all the same.

Violet Artichokes Cooked in Embers

This is my spin on the Andalucían classic ‘patatas al o pobre’ meaning ‘poor man’s potatoes’; essentially potatoes with whatever you have knocking about in the fridge!

I wanted to refine this staple, as I love potatoes so much, adding a decent olive oil, the right potatoes and some fresh, green punchy flavours to make this dish excellent. Serve with anything you like or with a bowl of alioli.

Cut the potatoes into bite-size chunks, then place in a pan and cover with cold water. Season and bring to the boil. Simmer until the potatoes are three-quarters cooked – still a little raw in the middle. Drain very well in a colander and shake the potatoes to release their steam. Spread out the potatoes on a tray to cool down (I often do this outside on the garden table, covering the potatoes with a clean tea towel).

Preheat the oven to its maximum heat. Put an oven tray, large enough to fit the potatoes on one layer, into the oven to heat up.

Pour the olive oil on to the hot tray, then carefully place the potatoes in the oil along with the garlic. Season with plenty of salt and pepper. Place the tray back in the oven and roast the potatoes for 20 minutes – they will have begun to crisp and brown and can now be turned over.

Turn the oven down to 200°C/180°C fan/Gas Mark 6 and return the tray to the oven. Roast for 10 minutes, then shake the tray well. Add the green peppers and chilli and mix with the potatoes. Place back in the oven to roast for about 10 minutes. By now the potatoes should be crisp and evenly browned and the peppers and chilli should have softened. Roast for a few minutes longer if the potatoes need to be more brown.

Remove the potatoes from the oven and immediately sprinkle over the olives and coriander. Stir through. Using a slotted spoon transfer the potatoes to a serving bowl and serve immediately.

Olive Oil-roasted Potatoes

This dish was inspired by a recipe from the brilliant Honey and Co. cookbook. I’ve known Sarit and Itamr for years and used to take my team to their restaurant for inspirational staff meetings or my wife Nykeeta and I would go for lovely, relaxed dinners.

Their food is Israeli influenced, where they are both from originally, and of course the overlaps into Moorish cuisine are profound.

Their dish used prawns cooked down with tomatoes, oranges and infused with cardamom. This is more salad-y and the squids are grilled for a smoky contrast to the fresh, cool tomatoes and orange.

400g heritage tomatoes in season (a mix of colour and texture), cut into 1cm slices

80ml orange juice (you should get this from the sweet oranges when segmenting; if not, top up with extra juice)

Place the prepared squid in a sink and rinse well, inside and out, under cold running water. Slit the bodies open to lie flat and score with a sharp knife, then dry well on kitchen paper – they must be very dry before grilling, otherwise they’ll release water and boil. Cut the tentacles in half.

Heat the groundnut oil in a small saucepan with the cardamom until hot. Remove from the heat and set aside to infuse.

Put the tomatoes, shallots, thyme and some seasoning into a bowl and mix well. Peel the oranges, removing all the white pith, then segment them, working over a bowl to catch the juice. Add the segments and 80ml of orange juice to the tomatoes.

Strain the cardamom-infused oil into a small bowl. Whisk in the honey and vinegar. Reserve 1 tablespoon of this dressing, and pour the remainder over the tomatoes. Toss gently. Leave the tomatoes to marinate at room temperature.

Drizzle some olive oil over the squid and season well, then cook them over the hot coals or on the grill pan for 3 minutes – without disturbing them so they caramelise well. Turn them over and cook for 3 minutes on the other side. Remove from the heat, cut each squid into 4 or 5 pieces and spoon over the reserved dressing. Divide the tomato and orange salad among plates and top with the squid.

Grilled Squids

Mackerel, along with other oily fish like sardines, are perfect for grilling. They self-lubricate and baste while cooking over a high heats and their skins get marvellously crisped and blistered while the flesh stays juicy and succulent.

It’s imperative you use spanking fresh fish – not only does it taste much better but it will be firmer and more rigid which enables easier skewering and managing on the grill. The tahini rub gives extra flavour and nutty caramelisation.

8 thick garden onions or large spring onions, ends trimmed and each cut into 4 pieces

Place the mackerel pieces in a bowl with the thyme, garlic, chilli and sesame seeds. Season well and drizzle over some olive oil. Toss to mix. Leave to marinate in the fridge for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, whisk the yoghurt with the tahini and 25ml of cold water. Season with salt, pepper and lemon juice. The sauce consistency should be thick yet brushable. If it is too thick, add a little more water.

Prepare a medium charcoal fire in the barbecue, or heat a ridged grill pan or overhead grill to moderate.

Thread the mackerel pieces and onions alternately on to 8 long metal skewers so you have 4 pieces of each on each skewer. Brush some of the tahini-yoghurt sauce on the kebabs and place them on the barbecue or grill pan (or on the tray under the overhead grill, if using). Cook for 3 minutes. Brush with more sauce, then turn the kebabs and cook for a further 3 minutes. Remove from the heat and rest. The mackerel flesh should still be a touch pink inside and charred on the outside along with the onions.

Fresh Mackerel Kebabs

Oily fish such as sardines and mackerel are perfect cooked quickly over a charcoal grill or griddle as their natural oiliness lubricates the flesh during the fast cooking process.

Fennel features twice in this recipe, fresh, cooked long and slow with onions into a sweet-sour Sicilian-style stew, and then in its highly aniseed-y form, crushed and sprinkled onto the sardines before grilling, creating an extra crunch and an aromatic flavour.

Remove the fronds from the fennel and reserve. Cut out the core, then slice the fennel bulbs very finely lengthways, preferably using a mandoline.

Heat a medium saucepan over a high heat and add a glug of olive oil followed by the fennel, onions and garlic. Cook for 5 minutes, stirring, then turn down the heat to low and add the sugar, vinegar, thyme and bay leaves. Cover and cook for 50 minutes or until the vegetables are nicely caramelised and meltingly tender. Season with salt, pepper and a little of the lemon juice, then set aside.

Prepare a charcoal fire in the barbecue or heat a ridged grill pan to a medium-high heat. If you are using the barbecue, wait until the coals are an ashen grey.

Rub the sardines with olive oil and season. Sprinkle the crushed fennel seeds over the sardines and press into the fish skin. Lay the sardines on the barbecue or grill pan and cook for 2 minutes on each side or until the skin and fennel seeds are nicely charred and the fish is just cooked through.

Remove the sardines from the heat and squeeze a little lemon juice over them. Sprinkle with the sumac. Rest for 3 minutes before serving alongside the fennel-onion stew, topped with the reserved fennel fronds. This would also be delicious served with the Charcoal-grilled Green and Yellow Beans.

Smoky Sardines

I first had fish cooked this way in San Sebastian, in the Basque country in northern Spain. The fish was actually turbot and had been cooked for about 10 minutes over a hot (but not too hot) grill filled with glowing silver birch logs. It was the most exquisite of things – cooking fish this way on the bone keeps it incredibly moist and flavoursome but more importantly the bones release their natural gelatine into the fish, making it incredibly unctuous. This southern Spanish-Moorish version uses the cheaper, but no less delicious, brill and comes with smoky Mediterranean peppers and tomatoes and a simple pomegranate dressing.

Investing in a barbecue fish clamp will make this much easier and looks very impressive. You can of course do this in the oven too, albeit without the smokiness.

Prepare and light a charcoal fire in a kettle-type barbecue to optimum heat, using good charcoal and a soaked oak log for smokiness. Let the coals burn down until they turn ashen grey. The internal temperature of the barbecue should be about 200°C. (Alternatively, preheat the oven to 180°C/160°C fan/Gas Mark 4.)

Toss the peppers and tomatoes in a little olive oil and seasoning, then spread on an oven tray. Place on the barbecue grill and close the lid (or place in the oven). Cook for about 25 minutes or until charred, smoky and softened. Remove from the barbecue (or oven).

Whisk together the vinegar, extra virgin olive oil and pomegranate molasses in a bowl. Drizzle some of this vinaigrette over the peppers and tomatoes, then set aside.

Season the brill and rub with a little olive oil. Place in a fish clamp and cook on the barbecue for 7–8 minutes or until the fish has started to caramelise. Turn over and cook for a further 5–6 minutes. (If cooking in the oven, place the fish on an oven tray lined with baking parchment and roast for 25 minutes or until the flesh is translucent and cooked through.)

Remove from the barbecue (or oven) to a tray. Squeeze over the lemon juice, then cover the brill with foil and leave to rest in a warm spot for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, pour the fish resting juices into the remaining vinaigrette along with the pomegranate seeds. Whisk together. Transfer to a jug or bowl for pouring.

Serve the fish, peppers and tomatoes on a platter, sprinkled with the oregano, and pass around the sauce.

Whole Brill

Another version of the pinchitos (the name used in the autonomous regions of southern Spain, Andalucía and Extremadura) that have derived from the Moorish occupation – essentially skewered meat kebabs that are usually associated with North Africa and the Middle East.

These are smaller, tapas-sized skewers designed for eating with a vino tinto or sherry, and cooked over charcoal until slightly blackened, smoky and pink inside. The pancetta element here helps keep the super lean venison juicy through the cooking process, and the quince adds a lovely sweet-sour glaze.

I serve these alongside the classic pinchos murunos (see here) straight from the barbecue, absolutely delicious!

Put the venison into a bowl with the thyme, garlic, sugar, spices and seasoning. Leave to marinate for at least 1 hour before cooking.

You need 8 long skewers, either metal or wooden. If using wooden skewers, soak them in cold water for an hour.

Wrap a piece of sliced pancetta around each venison cube. Thread them on to the skewers.

To make the glaze, gently melt the quince in a small pan with the vinegar and 1 tablespoon of water over a low heat until liquid.

Prepare a charcoal fire in a barbecue and burn until the coals are ashen grey, or heat a ridged grill pan over a medium heat. Brush the kebabs with the quince glaze, then place on the barbecue, or in the grill pan, and cook on all sides to caramelise – the venison should still be pink inside. Keep brushing with the glaze as you go. Rest for 3 minutes before serving.

Left: Messina-style Veal Skewers

Middle: Spiced Venison Pinchos with Pancetta and Membrillo

Right: Ibérico Pork Pinchos with Smoked Paprika

Byzantine Messina fell to Moorish invaders around 882. In fact, it was a fairly quick process, as the natives opened their city gates and allowed the Moors to occupy without too much bloodshed and avoided a massacre as seen in cities such as Taormia. The culinary influence the Arabs left on this city and the rest of Sicily is staggering, and still so very evident.

This dish uses a Sicilian favourite of lean veal rump that’s marinated in a paste of green olives, anchovy, preserved lemon, garlic and fresh green herbs and then grilled on skewers, kebab-style. It’s not unusual to see North African-style street grilling in the towns of Sicily during the summer months, and you could quite easily think you were in Morocco.

I only use rose veal that means the calves have had a longer life and time outside, resulting in tastier, better meat. Lamb or pork are good alternatives.

Place the veal in a large mixing bowl. Season well and drizzle over 50ml of the extra virgin olive oil.

Put the remaining ingredients in a blender along with the rest of the oil. Pulse-blitz until you have a rough paste. Season well.

Spoon the paste over the veal and massage it well into the meat – make sure all the pieces are fully coated. Cover the bowl and leave to marinate in the fridge for at least 4 hours.

Thread the veal pieces on to metal skewers (15cm long), dividing them equally. Season the kebabs. Suspend the skewers over the barbecue grid so they are not directly touching the bars. If using an overhead grill, balance the ends of the skewers on the edges of the grill pan so they are suspended. This way the meat will cook and the marinade will caramelise without sticking. Cook, turning regularly, for 8–9 minutes or until the veal is well browned but still pink inside.

This is a classic Andalucían tapa – a little meat skewer that is marinated in cumin, smoked paprika and lemon and then grilled over charcoal until charred and smoky. Clearly a resemblance to the North African kebab, and during the Muslim rule in Andalucía and Extremadura these would have been made with lamb. The pinchito is now more likely to be made with Ibérico pork (the favourite meat of southern Spain) but the spice and cooking techniques live on.

During the summer months the streets of southern Spanish towns are filled with sweet smoke from pinchito parties – rowdy, wine-fuelled affairs where everyone brings along plates of their ‘own recipe’ skewers to be grilled at the designated party host’s house … and there’s always a bit of rivalry on the best recipe.

500g boneless Ibérico pork loin (or boneless lamb shoulder or a quality rare-breed pork loin), trimmed of most of the fat

Soak 8 wooden skewers (12cm long) in cold water for 1 hour. Dice the pork (or lamb) into about 3cm cubes. Thread on to the skewers – there should be about 4 pieces on each skewer. Place the skewers on a shallow tray.

Put the paprika, toasted cumin seeds, garlic, olive oil and vinegar into a bowl. Whisk together very well, then pour evenly over the pork. Turn the skewers to ensure they are all covered with the marinade. Leave to marinate in the fridge for about 2 hours. During this time, turn the pork skewers once.

Remove the pork skewers from the fridge and scrape off the excess marinade (reserve the marinade).

Prepare a charcoal fire in a barbecue or heat a ridged grill pan to a maximum heat. Season the pork, then place on the barbecue or grill pan. Cook for 2 minutes on one side or until caramelised, then turn on to the other side and cook for 2–3 minutes. Turn down the heat and cook for a further 2 minutes (or a further 4 minutes for regular pork).

Remove the skewers from the grill and leave to rest in a warm spot for 2–3 minutes. Meanwhile, put the reserved marinade in a small pan and bring to the boil. Spoon some of the marinade over the pinchos and squeeze over the lemon juice. The pinchos should be deeply caramelised and slightly charred with a juicy interior. The wooden skewers will be charred too, but don’t worry about this – it adds an authentic presentation.

Ibérico pigs or Pata Negra are known as the king of pigs, an ancient breed native to the Iberian peninsula. The meat is truly unique, more akin to wild boar or even wagyu beef. The meat is red and has deep, rich marbling, which stems from their free-roaming lifestyle in the Dehesa and diet of rich, nutty acorns.

The cured version, jamón Ibérico, can be found on most tapas bar counters throughout Spain, sliced very thinly onto plates and served with a chilled glass of fino sherry, equally as delicious but very different. Ibérico products are now widely available, and the brilliant UK-based retailer Brindisa is leading the way with the best Spanish products.

This dish, with its pork and alcohol, clearly isn’t a direct descendant from the Moorish occupation! However, for me it typifies how the two cultures have intertwined harmoniously – the spices with the pork and the cooking technique are very much of Arabic origin.

Place the butter in a bowl and whisk in the PX sherry and diced ham. Season well and reserve in a cool spot.

Place the pork steaks on a tray and season lightly. Crush the spices together in a pestle and mortar, then sprinkle over the pork, massaging them into the meat as you go. Drizzle over the honey and massage this into the meat too. Leave the pork to marinate for at least 1 hour or up to 6 hours.

Prepare a fire in the barbecue, or heat a ridged grill pan over medium/hot heat. Drizzle a little oil over the pork, then place over the hot coals or on the grill pan. Cook for 3–4 minutes on each side – the exterior will naturally blacken and caramelise to a crust, while the inside should be pink (the meat of Ibérico pigs is red and it is perfectly safe to eat it pink or even rare). Rest the meat for a few minutes in a warm spot.

Squeeze the lemon juice over the pork, then slice the steaks. Serve with a good spoon of the jamón butter on the side, and with my Caramelised Chicory, if desired.

Blackened Ibérico Pork Presa

Grape must is freshly pressed grape juice, including the pips and skins, and is the first stage in the process of wine making before the fermenting happens. The juice then gets cooked down to make syrup that resembles a thick, aged balsamic but with much fresher notes. It’s sold usually as saba or mosto cotto.

Because of its high sugar content and consistency it’s brilliant for adding to a braise, sauces or even desserts, rather like a pomegranate molasses, and it also works brilliantly as a marinade and glaze. I recommended a barbecue for this dish as the real smokiness you get from a real charcoal and wood fire contrasts incredibly with the sweet, sticky, caramel-like must.

a well-aged boneless beef rump joint, about 1kg, with a good layer of fat (a thick piece is better for cooking on the barbecue)

Place the beef rump in a bowl. Season well and rub with the garlic and half the thyme leaves. Pour over the saba and massage well into the meat. Pour in enough water to submerge the beef. Cover, place in the fridge and leave to marinate for 8 hours, turning once or twice.

Remove the beef but reserve the marinade. Leave the meat at room temperature for 30 minutes before cooking.

Prepare a charcoal fire in the barbecue or set a large ridged grill pan on medium heat. If you are using a barbecue, you can throw the thyme stalks on to the hot coals (or wood) as you cook the beef, for an extra flavour boost.

Season the beef again and drizzle over a little oil, then place on the medium hot barbecue or grill pan. Cook for 4 minutes on one side to caramelise. Turn over and continue cooking to brown the other side. Take a pastry brush and lightly apply some of the marinade to the meat every time it is turned.

When all sides of the beef are caramelised (a thick piece of meat will need to be browned on 4 sides), move it to a cooler spot on the barbecue, or reduce the heat under the grill pan. Continue cooking but without too much further colouring, basting when you turn the meat, until the beef registers an internal temperature of 63°C on a probe thermometer (medium rare). This will take about 25 minutes in total. Cook for 5 minutes longer for medium or 10 minutes more for medium to well done. Leave the beef to rest in a warm spot for 30 minutes.

Brush liberally with extra saba and sprinkle over the remaining thyme. Serve sliced thickly with the resting juices poured over. My Salmoriglio sauce and Broad Bean, Tomato and Anchovy Salad go well with this delicious beef.

Smoky Charcoal-grilled Beef Rump

There’s nothing like the smell of lamb chops cooked over charcoal – they seem to be made for it with the tasty fat lightly charring and crisping, the outside flesh caramelising and then the juicy pink inside. Absolute heaven. Here I’ve paired the chops with a simple but really interesting dressing I sampled in Sicily, although there the vinaigrette came with chalky broad beans and fresh fennel fronds instead of the peas and mint. Both versions are delicious.

I usually say that with grilling you can achieve the same result indoors as out, and it’s mostly true, however for this I really think its worth wheeling out the barbecue and lighting some charcoal. I like to serve this with my Stuffed Aubergines.

Bring a pan of salted water to the boil and blanch the peas until just tender. Drain and refresh in iced water. Drain again and set aside.

Season the chops well and rub with olive oil. Place on the barbecue or grill pan and cook on one side for 4 minutes. There should be a good caramelisation when the chops are turned over, along with a slight charring along the fat. Cook on the other side for 3 minutes for medium rare – the meat should have a good spring when pressed. Remove the chops from the heat to a wire rack set over a tray and squeeze over the lemon juice. Leave to rest in a warm spot for 5–7 minutes.

Meanwhile, whisk together the extra virgin olive oil and vinegar in a small saucepan. Season well and add the cumin and garlic. Heat until the garlic just starts to fizz. Add the peas and remove from the heat. Pour in the lamb resting juices that have dripped into the tray and check the seasoning.

To serve, divide some of the peas, along with some of the vinaigrette, among 4 serving plates. Place 2 lamb chops on top of each pile of peas, then spoon over the remainder of the peas and vinaigrette. Finish each plate with a sprinkle of mint leaves.

Charcoal-grilled Lamb Chops

This is the Andalucía-Moorish version of the complex Moroccan pastilla although not as sweet and less time consuming. The pastela moruna can be found in many of the bakeries in Granada and history dictates that this pie was created by Moorish aristocracy in the Alhambra Palace and then kept alive by local nuns cooking in the convents.

Traditionally the pastela is baked in a wood oven and the pastry absorbs some of the smokiness during cooking, adding another layer of flavour and giving the pie its distinct golden hue.

I don’t bother making a fresh pastry for this recipe, as there’s some excellent all-butter puff pastry available in the supermarkets. Do feel free to make your own if you like.

Season the chicken and place in a large flameproof roasting tin along with the chopped onion, spices and a good drizzle of olive oil. Place in the oven and cook, turning the legs once or twice, for 40 minutes or until the chicken is cooked through and the juices run clear.

Remove the chicken from the oven and cool, then pick the meat from the legs in chunks. Discard the bones. Put the chicken meat back in the tray with the spices and onion and add the tomatoes, raisins and stock. Bring to a simmer and cook for about 45 minutes, or until the liquid has reduced and thickened. Set this filling aside to cool before stuffing the pie.

Lightly flour a work surface. Using a floured rolling pin, roll out one sheet of puff pastry to a roughly 30 x 40cm rectangle. Transfer it to an oiled 30 x 40cm baking tin/sheet. Roll out the remaining sheet of puff pastry to a rectangle that is slightly smaller than the first.

Spread the filling evenly over the pastry on the baking sheet, leaving about 3cm bare along each of the 4 edges. Sprinkle the pine nuts and almonds evenly on top. Cover the filling with the second pastry rectangle. Fold the edges of the bottom crust up over the edges of the top and crimp them decoratively. Brush the top of the pie with the egg wash. Using a sharp knife, make slits all over the top crust to allow steam to escape.

Prepare and light a charcoal fire in a kettle-type barbecue to optimum heat. Add a soaked oak log to the side of the coals. Move the coals and wood to the side of the barbecue so you have an indirect heat zone to create a steady, light smoke. Place the pie on the barbecue grill to the side of the coals (the indirect heat zone) and close the lid. The vent of the barbecue should be half closed. The internal temperature of the barbecue should be around 180°C. Cook the pie for 40 minutes or until golden brown and piping hot inside.

Alternatively, you can bake the pie in the oven at 180°C/160°C fan/Gas Mark 4 for 40 minutes.

Remove the pie from the barbecue or oven and dust with icing sugar before serving.

Wood-baked Moorish Chicken Pie

This dish has a real North African feel to it. The smell of caramelising harissa paste cooked over the flames of a barbecue sends you off to Marrakech or Fez, but you are as likely to find this in the markets and streets of Cádiz, Córdoba and Granada.

Marinating the pheasant in harissa not only adds its fiery, smoky delicious flavour but helps to moisten and tenderise the meat. You can do the same with partridge, pigeon or even chicken.

You need 8 long skewers, either wooden or metal. If wooden, soak in cold water for 1 hour before use.

Spatchcock the birds or ask your butcher to do this for you. To spatchcock each pheasant, lay it breast side down on a chopping board and press down firmly to flatten it. Using poultry shears or sturdy kitchen scissors, cut through the backbone and ribs and remove them. Insert 2 skewers diagonally on opposite sides to hold the bird flat in shape during cooking. Score the legs with a sharp knife 2 or 3 times to speed up the cooking process.

Place the pheasants, skin side up, on a tray. Spoon over the harissa, add the lemon zest and rub into the pheasants, ensuring they are evenly coated. Cover and leave in the fridge for about 2 hours. Before cooking, remove from the fridge so the pheasants can come up to room temperature.

Prepare and light a charcoal fire in a barbecue – the coals need to turn an ashen grey before cooking. Alternatively, heat a ridged grill pan over a medium heat.

Season the pheasants and drizzle with a little oil. Place them on the hot barbecue or grill pan (cook in batches, if necessary) and cook for 3 minutes on the breast side to caramelise. Turn the birds over and either move them to a cooler spot on the barbecue or turn the heat down under the grill pan. Cook slowly for 8 minutes, turning them over once. The birds should still be a little pink inside and nicely caramelised and crisp on the outside.

Pheasant and Harissa

An unusual Sicilian-Moorish inspired dish where chicken is slowly cooked in a wood oven along with apricots, almonds, olives and sumac.

I use a mix of dried and fresh apricots for this recipe – the fresh apricots break down into the chicken juices creating a wonderful sweet-sour sauce while the dried apricots hold their shape and provide a lovely texture.

Prepare and light a charcoal fire in a kettle-style barbecue. Shuffle the hot coals to one side and place a small soaked log at the edge of the coals to smoke lightly. The internal temperature of the barbecue should be 180–190°C. Alternatively, preheat the oven to 180°C/160°C fan/Gas Mark 4.

Meanwhile, heat a large flameproof casserole over a medium heat on the hob. Season the chicken pieces. Add a glug of olive oil to the pot and, when hot, brown the chicken pieces all over until golden. Remove the chicken from the pot.

Add more oil to the pot and cook the onion with the garlic and thyme for 3 minutes or until softened. Stir in the ginger and cook for a further 2 minutes. Place the chicken pieces back in the pot with the onions and add the dried and fresh apricots. Pour over the stock (this will only make a shallow depth in the pot, leaving the top of the chicken pieces uncovered so they can take on the smokiness in the barbecue).

Transfer the casserole to the barbecue, placing it on the side opposite where the coals are, and close the barbecue lid. Alternatively, cover the casserole and place in the oven. Cook for 1½ hours or until the chicken is cooked through and starting to come away from the bones, and the sauce is thick and rich. During the cooking time, stir a couple of times to prevent sticking.

Remove the casserole from the barbecue or oven and leave to rest for a few minutes before spooning off any excess fat and checking the seasoning. Sprinkle over the sumac and stir in the almonds, then serve.

Chicken with Apricots and Sumac