Seasons are fickle things, and so often we aren’t able to acknowledge their existence until the moment has passed. This is particularly true of the English summer, which we constantly deny the arrival of, hoping that the heat is still to peak, and that we’ll reach that elusive point where one can swim in the sea without losing the sensation in their toes. Spring is even harder to pin down, and I’ve lived through a number of years where, even in hindsight, it’s been difficult to acknowledge a period of more than a few days between the harsh winter winds and the blazing summer sun.
But autumn is refreshingly obvious. The leaves are pushy evangelists, attempting first to spread their message through attractive displays, before ultimately throwing themselves at us and revealing the stark gospel of the winter ahead.
There is no denying the arrival of this, the season of Gilmore Girls rewatches and the grand re-opening of the over-stuffed drawer at the bottom of your wardrobe. This, to me, is a more seminal event in the calendar than the switching on of the town’s Christmas lights. In an ideal world, we would save our D-list celebrity appearances for the beginning of autumn instead. H from Steps will be in Colchester this Saturday, wandering from house to house and ceremonially unleashing your chunky knits.
Our kitchens also offer very clear indicators of autumn’s arrival. Gourds sit awkwardly on top of the fridge, a seasonal visitor that interior designers have never really thought to create a spot for. Our worktops are suddenly busier, with the slow cooker refusing to return to the back of the cupboard, emboldened by your decision to make pulled pork as a desperate, last-ditch attempt to hold on to the summer.
Autumn always revives my kitchen instincts. In part, this is because new desires present an opportunity to shake things up. But also because it heralds the return of stew season - and there is no corner of the gastronomical world that is as forgiving of improvisation as the stew. There is sheer, unadulterated joy in throwing ingredients into a big pot and seeing what happens. If that pot is big enough, it will swallow up your mistakes and allow you all the time you need to find creative solutions.
The only downside with stew season is that the British are prone to repetition. Beef in red wine. Identikit regional delicacies that all amount to lamb served with onions, carrots and potatoes. Coq au vin.
As ever, my solution to this is to look a little further afield. Autumn, for me, calls for warming spices - and my first port of call in times like this is always Korean gochujang.
Dak-bokkeum-tang (or dak-dori-tang) is a spicy chicken braise from Korea that combines some of our favourite stew ingredients (say hello again, onions, carrots and potatoes) with gochujang’s characteristic heat and the magic potion that is sesame oil. It’s also incredibly easy and, for a stew of such flavour, pretty quick to get to the table.
Dak-bokkeum-tang (Korean Spicy Braised Chicken)
Serves 4
Ingredients for the sauce:
3 tbsp gochujang1
2 tbsp soy sauce2
2 tbsp minced garlic
2 tbsp gochugaru3
1 tbsp mirin
1 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp agave syrup4
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
Ingredients for the stew:
4 chicken legs
100g onion, roughly chopped
100g potato, peeled and cut into 3cm cubes
100g carrot, halved lengthways and slice into 1cm thick semi-circles
50g shiitake mushrooms, stalks removed, caps sliced thinly
2 spring onions, roughly chopped
1 tbsp neutral oil
1 tsp sesame oil
a generous pinch of toasted sesame seeds
Let’s get cooking:
In a bowl, thoroughly combine all the ingredients for the sauce.
Place a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat, and add the neutral oil.
Put the chicken legs into the pan, skin facing down, and fry for a few minutes. You want to brown the chicken, and crisp the skin up a little. Once you’ve achieved this, remove the pan from the heat, and transfer the chicken to a large bowl.
Add the vegetables and the sauce to the bowl with the chicken, mixing thoroughly with your hands until everything is covered. Leave to marinate for a few minutes.
Return the saucepan to a medium heat, adding a little more oil if necessary. Add the chicken/vegetable/sauce mixture to the pan and stir-fry for 3-4 minutes.
Add 750ml of water, cover the pan, and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium, and continue to boil for 20 minutes.
Remove the pan from heat and leave to stand for 5 minutes. Stir in sesame oil for a final flourish of flavour.
Serve in bowls with rice, and sprinkle a few toasted sesame seeds on top as a garnish.
Eat.
Any good stew is open to adaptations, and you can have a lot of fun mixing this recipe up with different autumnal vegetables. Swap out the potato for some squash, or sweet potato. I used a mixture of different coloured carrots because I am a child, and purple carrots make me smile.
You can also adjust the spice levels pretty easily by adding or removing a tablespoon of gochujang according to your tolerance.
I’d recommend pairing with a Chianti for a cosy night in that really ramps up that autumnal feeling.
The house move my wife and I have been working on since June continues to drag out, and the any pastoral pleasures we’d taken from our summer sojourn with my parents in Norfolk has long since faded.
Much of the wildlife has retreated, and all that is left are the masses of pheasants that have been dumped at the roadside today in order to be hunted tomorrow. Where the sport is in hunting what are essentially tame farm-bred animals with no knowledge of the outside world, I don’t know.
My parents - and, indeed, anyone round these parts in possession of both a car and a pair of eyes5 - believe that pheasants are the dumbest creatures on the planet. But, really, what do we expect? The poor things are bred in captivity, where presumably there are very few vehicles blasting through their pens at forty miles an hour, and then, one day, are unceremoniously dropped in the middle of the real world - usually in close proximity to the main routes taken by these mysterious metal death wagons. There’s a metaphor of some kind to be had here, but I’m too worn down by months of house-buying stress to whip it into shape.
Anyway, my point is: pheasants are delicious.With all this stress on my mind, I’ve been ignoring the various books I have with me in our temporary home, and have mostly been watching early X-Files episodes. That said, I have been listening to a lot of music. So let’s enjoy a few recommendations on that front, shall we?
The brilliant Germa Adan put out a new album a few weeks back. Germa is a Haitian folk singer who has been based in the UK for a little while now, and continues to be one of the most unique voices on the scene. Borderlines and Bloodlines is an absolutely gorgeous record that captures her mesmeric live performances and builds upon them with some inspired production and guest musicians. It’s an album of the year for me, for sure.
I was recently put on to Chappell Roan’s debut album, The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess. It’s a big, brash pop album that seems to draw freely from both contemporary influences like Olivia Rodrigo and Lana Del Rey, and older touchstones like Madonna and, dare I say it, Atomic Kitten.6 It is also, I say at the risk of diluting the impact of the statement, an absolute album of the year.
The independent folk label I run has had a busy couple of months, too. October saw the release of Robin Elliott’s debut album, There is a Land. I’ve been a big fan of Robin for a long time now, and I’m really pleased we could play a part in this record. Robin’s one of the smartest songwriters out there, and has an absolutely gorgeous voice to boot. If you like playful, intelligent music, you’ll absolutely love There is a Land.
Later this month, we’re putting out another record on the label, too. Winterfalle’s Out of the Sea is a typically ambitious, lush album that will be accompanied by a lyric book illustrated by the award-winning artist behind the Ideas With Legs imagery, Chris Riddell. Pre-orders for the album go up soon, but for now you can get tickets to the launch gig, which will take the form of an underwater ball in Peckham on November 30th. We’ll have live music from Winterfalle, Message from the Ravens and Bianca Watts (my favourite harpist!), as well as live illustration from Chris Riddell. Also you can dress up like a fish if you like. Tickets are here.
That’s all for now! Leg it.7
Generally speaking, gochujang is not gluten free. I, however, am. My preferred brand of GF gochujang paste is the Centaur variety available from Sous Chef. It is quite a bit spicier than the usual varieties, though, so I’d recommend using only two tablespoons instead of the full three listed above.
Soy sauce is also not gluten free, but you can use tamari as a straight swap that will make literally no difference whatsoever.
You can buy gochugaru - which are Korea’s go-to red chilli flakes - in any good Asian supermarket. And most bad ones, for that matter. Failing that, Aleppo pepper (also known as pul biber) would make a decent substitute. I’d recommend either as a spice-booster for beans on toast, too, while we’re at it.
Traditionally, Koreans use corn syrup in dak-bokkeum-tang, but it can be hard to source in the UK, so I use agave syrup. You could also use golden syrup or honey.
This is a Venn diagram in which one circle is, crucially, entirely subsumed by the other.
I would like to believe that Chappell Roan is aware of Atomic Kitten - and, ideally, the entire Kerry Katona lore - but given she was born in the same year as they were formed, and grew up in Missouri, I suspect this may be wishful thinking.
Sorry.