Comfort Food Hairy Bikers' Best of British

We believe Britain has the best food in the world!

Our glorious country boasts some fantastic ingredients.

Start eating it, will you!

It's home to amazing producers...

-My goodness gracious. That is epic!

-Isn't it?

..and innovative chefs.

But our islands also have a fascinating food history.

The fish and chip shops of South Wales are running out of chips.

BOTH: Yes!

And in this series, we're uncovering revealing stories of our rich culinary past...

Now, there is food history on a plate.

..as well as meeting our nation's food heroes

who are keeping this heritage alive.

Let's have them enjoying themselves. It's a short life.

Let's make it a happy one, like they always have had.

And of course we'll be cooking up a load of dishes that reveal our foodie evolution.

Spring, summer, autumn or winter - it's brilliant.

BOTH: Quite simply the best of British!

Now, all nations have their own versions of comfort food.

But we very firmly believe that British comfort food is the most

wonderfully warming, comforting, consoling food on this planet.

You know, like cream of chicken soup on a winter's day.

Like cake!

Or baked potato with grated Cheshire cheese.

Or cake.

Comfort food is filled with memories, flavour and tradition.

And today's show is about celebrating and exploring

the most grounding of all cuisines - comfort food!

Hey! Have we not got any cake? I wanted cake.

Where's me cake?!

OK, we might not have cake, but we do have food that sustains us and brings us together.

Dishes that remind us of our roots.

The recipes that make us smile.

From filling and hearty...

..to the unusual and tasty.

It's the food we're almost genetically programmed to reach for in times of need.

It's probably no coincidence that the term "comfort food" was coined in the late 1970s,

because back then, our food and diet

was changing at a quicker rate than ever before.

As fancy new-fangled foods like Vesta curries and frozen peas started to fill the supermarkets,

maybe, subconsciously, we began to crave the food we grew up with -

the food of our parents and grandparents.

# Home cooking! Home cooking! #

Good, honest old-fashioned grub - the food that was part and parcel of the British psyche...

..and had all the qualities we look for when it comes to comfort food.

Firstly - stodge!

Good fresh beef suet is chopped up and mixed with flour to make a paste.

Then there's the brown sugar and the currants and the butter.

Fold into an envelope, which makes your Sussex pond pudding.

In our cold and wet climate, it's no surprise that pastry and suet in particular

became a staple of our national cuisine.

The favourite of our family is the normal steak and kidney pudding.

Nothing can beat a good pudding and pie when it comes to filling us up.

It's beautiful, I think.

Now, look, do start when you get it, because it will all go cold.

Whether it should be called pond pudding or pound pudding,

it's not a pudding to have every day if putting on pounds bothers you.

When it comes to comfort food, the more calories the better.

In fact, some foods were almost specifically designed to fill us up as cheaply as possible,

but became a much-loved speciality in their own right.

The main part of Yorkshire pudding, it ain't like you go in a caff,

as like you do now,

you get a little bit. Weird, innit?

The Yorkshire people likes that as a course and all you want with that is a bit of good gravy.

It is the finest thing, is Yorkshire pudding with a wild rabbit gravy.

It's really great.

There are those who'll tell you that Yorkshire pudding is served as a separate first course

to fill the family up at the start of the meal, so that they'll need less meat.

The people of East Anglia had their own tasty way of padding out the belly, too.

Now, these are the real old traditional Norfolk dumplings - like I'm one.

Now, I'll show you the inside of a dumpling.

As you see, like the Cockneys say, as light as love! Look. Delicious.

It's better than any toast with your bacon, tomato or egg in the morning.

They're lovely fried with jam, treacle, et cetera, et cetera.

But what could be better with dumplings then a lovely bowl of steaming, hearty stew?

The Scots have their broth.

Here, in this farmhouse, we found the last traditional hearth in Wales.

Here, the long hours of simmering of the pot on the open fire produce cawl.

Whatever its regional variant, fresh vegetables and meat slow-cooked for hours in one pot

has got to be one of the most comforting foods there is.

We put all kinds of vegetables in - potatoes, swedes,

a few onions sometimes.

Everybody used to make cawl. Yes, it was a very special meal.

You can't get that food today, boy, they don't cook the same!

They don't cook the same today.

# I need home

# Home cooking! #

When it comes to comfort food, factors like simplicity,

wholesomeness and ease all have a role to play.

But nostalgia is often at the core.

It needs to makes us feel all warm and cosy and rooted -

the culinary equivalent of home.

So whatever new culinary advances come our way,

some of our comfort food choices might simply be down to our DNA.

-Comfort food truly is soul food. It can be very personal.

-It can.

-Yeah, what's yours?

-Flat-rib broth. That's it, flat-rib broth.

Me mam used to make it and she's made it, and me grandma before her and me great-grandma.

It's fed clans of the Kingys throughout the generations.

This is immediately identifiable as the Kingys' comfort food?

Absolutely, we all love it.

It was one of those things that came from big mining communities. Everybody used to have it.

Come the autumn, come the winter, you could always smell flat-rib broth cooking in people's houses.

It was brilliant! And this is the offending article. This is flat rib.

Flat rib can be found in some good butchers',

but if you can't get hold of it, use a little joint of brisket.

It works just as well.

And that's it. You cook it with the bone on and it puts a lovely layer of fat through it

and that just infuses into the broth - it's lush.

I read somewhere it's the only piece of meat, and you cook it and it gets bigger.

-It does.

-Sometimes you say, "Oh, that meat's shrinking!"

This one doesn't, because of the fat content, you end up with more than you started with.

The first step to beefing up our broth even more is to finely

chop one onion, one stick of celery and a couple of carrots.

-As you finely dice it, the more flavour you're going to get out of it, isn't it?

-Exactly.

You need a big pan for flat-rib broth because, normally, it feeds quite a lot of people

and we're going to start with about a kilo of flat rib,

which is basically two bits. That's what you'll get.

Do you cook this now for your boys?

Yeah, they love it, and Jane, my wife,

me mam passed the recipe on to Jane,

and Jane was going...

I did it at home the other day and she went, "Oh, your mam doesn't do that."

I go, "How do you know?" She goes, "She told us the recipe."

I said, "Well that's nice - she didn't tell me!" You know what I mean?

But now we're sharing it with the nation!

To a splash of hot oil, add the veg.

-But do we put in chunkier veg later?

-Yeah, we do, mate.

And I have to say that what was brilliant is that if you didn't finish the flat-rib broth

when it was cooked, it was even better the next day.

You warmed it up, heat the meat through again. Oh, just lush!

But so many dishes are like that, be it a hotpot or a curry, aren't they?

Yes, they are.

At this point I'm going to add a little bit of salt...

..and some black pepper.

-Shall I give it a stir?

-Yes, mate, absolutely.

And just let that go for about five minutes, just to soften it off.

I'm going to add a couple of bay leaves at this point.

That is what you want. You just want it sweated off.

And we are going to add two pieces of flat rib. Like that.

Now, we add three litres of water.

Now, that's just going to cover the flat rib.

Whack on the lid and let it snuggle together for about 20 minutes.

Just enough time to conjugate about what comfort food means to us.

It's all those things that you have some sort of an emotional connection with, isn't it,

that you've kind of grown up with.

As your experience expands, as your palate expands,

you get to taste some great things and it shifts and changes.

-Curry's comforting.

-Oh!

When you fancy a curry, there's only a curry going to do.

-And it's funny - that's our comfort food as well these days.

-Absolutely right.

Now, once we're on a rolling boil,

we add 125 grams of yellow split peas.

Whack 'em in, mucker. And 125 grams of pearl barley.

Give it a stir.

And now you put the lid on

and you cook it on a slow simmer for about an hour-and-a-half.

-An hour-and-a-half?

-Oh, yeah.

-It's not fast food this, is it?

-No.

It might not be fast, but in the pan, magic is occurring.

Oh, aye, the barley's frothed up.

-Eeh!

-Now... Oh, that takes us back!

Oh, yeah! Now, at this point, you need to put the seasoning in,

because it's going to take quite a lot of seasoning.

You're cooking that flat rib on the bone, and it's creating its own stock as it cooks.

There's lots of fat in there, lots of flavour, so now we just need to season it up.

Stir it in.

Oh, yeah!

Loads of black pepper.

Three or four sprinklings.

Excellent.

We add 125 grams of red lentils.

I like the idea of the mixture of pulses - the barley, the split peas, the lentils.

Well, they were kind of that stalwart thing, because they were cheap, you know what I mean?

-Still got variety, though.

-Absolutely. Absolutely.

Put the lid on, cook for 20 minutes.

And in the meantime, get chopping some hearty chunks of turnip, potato and leek.

Thank you.

You need to use a large leek.

So if it's a small one, just use two.

-This is full of flavour and goodness, isn't it?

-It is, yeah.

It's like a really nice thing, really nice winter warmer, you know?

It is definitely internal central heating.

And, quite naturally, what will happen,

the lentils will actually thicken the broth. So lovely.

Leeks in.

Beef-a-leekie, isn't it?

Turnip...or swede, depending on your regionality,

and a potato.

And, yep, you guessed it - put the lid on for another 20 minutes.

But don't worry if you leave it longer - it will only get better.

And also, just another tip - if you want your broth thick-thick,

then ten minutes from the end

take the lid off and just reduce it for that last five minutes.

I like mine in the middle, because that's how me mam used to do it

and that's how we've always eaten it.

If this was French this would be called a "bouillon".

And if it was Italian, it would be called a "brod".

Because it's British, we call it a broth.

It smells good.

-Shall we see?

-Aye.

Brilliant.

Do you know, 20 years I've known you.

You've never cooked me flat-rib broth before.

-Yes, mate, that's it!

-It is, isn't it?

-Get in!

-That's hearty.

-That meat will just... Oh, hey!

-Whoa!

-Right.

-Ladle, it's got to be a big bowl of that, hasn't it?

-Oh, yeah, you cannot not, can you?

Oh, this is brilliant.

-Is it taking you back?

-Yeah! It is, it's lovely.

The hearty bowl of the Kings' family broth now gets

a crown of melt-in-the-mouth, tender flat rib in a real heart-warmer.

Thanks, mate.

And then...get in!

The perfect complement to this beefy broth is bread and butter.

And the stottie - a soft white flat bread me mam used to make - is perfect.

Stottie, a bit of French or English mustard - whichever it is you fancy -

on the top of the meat, like that.

And it's incredibly good value. I think it's going to be incredibly tasty.

That's lovely.

Get some of that meat, mate, it's brilliant.

It literally just does melt in your mouth.

Oh, hey!

It's healthy, it's hearty, it's filling. You know, I can see where you're coming from.

Good, and it's very amiss of me not to have made it for you, having been me mate for 20 years.

-So welcome to the family!

-Why aye!

That's comfort food for me!

Si's flat-rib broth is part of a rich tradition of one-pot cooking in this country.

And our taste for it goes way back, beyond our parents and grandparents.

It's been bred into us Brits through history. It's in our blood.

We've come to the Weald and Downland Open Air museum in Chichester.

This place has 50 historic buildings

from the 14th to the 20th century,

that have been rescued from destruction and moved to the site.

The museum staff are experts on bringing authentic rural ways back to life,

and so what better venue to explore our foodie roots?

So, today, we're going to find out about a dish that once

provided all of us Britons with sustenance - pottage!

Everyone from peasants to kings dined on this thick vegetable stew,

and we're here to meet historic chef Cathy Flower-Bond,

to experience how the meal that's probably

responsible for many of our modern comfort food cravings was made.

Here, hither, vagabond. There doth lie comely wench

over there in t'spinny, gathering fodder for one's pottage.

-Hither, comely wench. I'm Dave.

-Hello, Dave. Nice to meet you.

-Hello.

-I'm Si. Very nice to meet you.

-What happened to you?

-I've gone back in time.

It's been a time slip.

So, Cathy, what is pottage?

Pottage is one-pot cooking,

so you have a pot that you put anything you're going to pick in there.

So it changes with the seasons. It changes with whatever you've got available.

You put it in all in your pot with some stock - it could have meat or grain -

and that's pottage.

So, forsooth, what treats can one pick from the medieval kitchen

for maketh the pottage for us supp?

We're going to pick mainly herbs today, and some vegetables.

-But we'll pick some edible weeds, as well.

-Weeds?!

-Edible weeds.

-Oh.

'Pottage goes back to Roman times,

'but our recipe will be one Tudor peasants ate.

'Every plant in the museum's garden would've been available

'to your average 16th-century Baldrick type.'

So what's this, then, Cathy?

This is good king Henry, and this is a sort of a leaf-beet, I suppose.

It is a weed...but this will flavour things quite nicely.

And what's the flavour of it?

-It's a bit bland, really. A bit like a nettle.

-Oh.

She's not really selling it. I'm sure it's lovely, like.

This is calendula. So, the marigold.

That's brilliant in cream, for bruises.

Yes, it is usually used for medicinal purposes. For ointments,

-for hand-washing and things like that.

-Brilliant. You learn something new every day.

-What do they taste like?

-Quite bitter, actually.

Like a dandelion leaf. And they've got a... They're quite sticky.

Yeah, wouldn't kill for 'em, like.

Next, we're going to pick some Alexanders.

Fingers crossed these are a bit tastier.

This was brought in by the Romans, and it's the forerunner to celery.

-Thank you.

-So it's got that flavour to it. Quite light, isn't it?

-Yeah, lovely.

Now, the seed here - you can use these in place of peppercorns.

You can grind them up and use them as pepper.

With our herby flavouring sorted,

it's time to make our merry way back to the kitchen and get dinner going.

The farmhouse is from the 16th century,

and pottage is exactly the kind of meal

people would've eaten here almost every day.

So, here we are in the kitchen.

Aw, gadzooks! 'Tis fine to be in your cottage making up a pottage.

'Don't worry, Cathy. He's like this all the time.'

So this is the sort of dish most lower-class Tudor people would have eaten.

Anything below gentlemen class, to peasants.

-Plebs' pottage.

-Yeah. Plebs' pottage.

And we're going to use the ingredients in this bowl here.

Pottage is based around common veg,

but they're a bit different than we're used to.

These are called skirrets, a forerunner to parsnip.

Now, these went out of fashion in the 1700s, really,

because, as you can see, they are ridiculously small.

Simon, these are the carrots.

Oh, purple carrots!

So we'll wash those, rough-chop them and then use...

-Use the carrot tops, as well?

-Yes.

Dude, while you're on, wash me carrots, mate.

-I'm not your serf, you know.

-I'm not saying!

I'm just saying you've got the bowl, you know.

I know what you're thinking - why are those carrots purple?

What witchcraft is this?

Until the 18th century, carrots normally came in a variety of colours.

-Amazing, aren't they?

-Beautiful, aren't they?

-Like a tie-dye shirt!

Like a Grateful Dead cover.

Nothing's going to waste on this table.

With a little bit of chopped garlic, it's ready to stew.

And there's quite a range of flavours.

So we're going to put all this into the pot that we've warmed by the fire.

Simon, if you take that pan cloth and take the lid off...

It should be nice and hot now.

-Oh, wow! It's a wooden lid.

-It is, yeah. I have pre-soaked them

so, hopefully, they won't catch fire, but they are wood.

OK, Dave, so if you put that all into that pot.

Mind yourself, because it is very warm down there now.

Ooh, it is! I'm roasting myself!

And then put the stock that's in the jug next to it, just cover it over.

Yep.

-All this is a vegetable stock.

-Yeah.

-Ooh, aye!

-Crumbs!

STEAM HISSES And put the lid back on.

It's not what you would call a tight-fitting lid, there, Cathy.

It's not, no, but it'll work.

So, Cathy, how long before we get to enjoy our pottage?

-About 20 minutes.

-Oh, well, that's all right.

Gives us enough time to get into character.

-To dress for dinner!

-Indeed.

-Gadzooks, forsooth!

This was the comforting sight that would've greeted almost every

Tudor farmer, workman and peasant

as he came through the door at the end of a day's work.

But it wasn't just for the poor.

Along with our peasants' pottage, Cathy has made us one

that the rich would've eaten.

Well, as there's posh stuff on offer, too,

one of us is going to have to be the lord of the manor, Si.

-Well, I definitely have the whole regal thing going on.

-Eh?

Noble bearing, me! What do you think people call me Kingy for?

It's your name, not your job title!

If anyone's going to be the lord, it should definitely be me.

Goodness! Hello, sir.

'Now who's getting carried away?!'

Eee...that smells champion!

Hopefully, it'll taste as good as it smells.

And then for you, sire, I have a special pottage for you.

'It's just not fair, is it?'

What's he got that I haven't?

Well, he's got wine and he's got samphire and he's got almonds,

milk and... Lots of very fine things.

You might even have coloured it with saffron.

'It might be a dish for aristos, but it looks like a bit of a dog's dinner to me.

'I'm not really sure about this.'

So this one here is fit for somebody of some wealth.

Which, of course, I have.

I hope it chokes ya.

-POSH VOICE:

-That, my fair maiden...

is very good pottage!

I think he likes it.

I'm really hungry.

-Please may I have a few frugal mouthfuls of the poor man's pottage?

-Of course.

'Mine might not have too much nutrition, but at least it looks better.'

Ooh, what's that thing?

Oh, it's a purple carrot.

I thought it was chorizo.

That hasn't been invented yet.

It's nice.

What's fascinating is,

this would have been a taste of home for millions and millions of people

for hundreds of years,

and it's a wonderful window on the past.

-Well, I still prefer mine.

-Yeah, you would, wouldn't you?

It's easy to pour scorn on things people ate centuries ago,

but pottage wasn't just survival food.

It was a dependable and tasty dish

that kept people fed and happy in their homes.

And that is what comfort food is all about.

Food can be a strong emotional force, providing sustenance for the soul

which is every bit as important to us as nourishment for the body.

And it's often a shared experience, be it family or geography.

It's so powerful it can bring whole communities together

wherever they are in the world.

During the 19th century, Jewish immigrants from Russia, Poland and Eastern Europe

brought a whole host of comfort foods with them.

And some of their specialties, like fried fish, have become part of our culinary landscape.

Comfort food is a great reminder of home and family,

but it can also be a deep connection with your ancestry.

With roots from all over the world, the British Jewish community

brings in different regional influences to a proud food heritage,

whether it's the Ukraine or Golders Green.

Michal Freeman-Shor moved to Britain from Israel 18 years ago.

Michal may have left her homeland behind,

but she's brought a rich family tradition of comfort food with her.

You know, when I cook my grandma's and my mum's chopped liver,

I see them in my head doing the same exact thing.

And then I see us sitting around a table, you know, kind of fighting -

who's going to have the chopped liver first.

Food has an important place in Jewish culture,

and on Friday night, during Shabbat, it takes centre stage.

Shabbat is a fundamental part of Jewish belief

and links people together across the world.

Friday night is family time.

It doesn't matter if you're a Jew in Israel or in Maidenhead,

or New York or Japan - Friday night, things stop.

By lighting the candles, you remember your mother lighting the candles,

and by saying the blessing over the wine, that's what your dad did. And you recreate your family legacy

and you root in to 3,000 years' worth of history,

and it's not just a religious thing, it's a spiritual thing.

The one thing I remember from my home is that,

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday - everyone was out different places.

Friday night - Shabbat - we were all in together.

That was the family night, that's what bound us together.

When you come to the Pearly Gates, God will ask you,

"Why didn't you enjoy as much of life as you could've enjoyed?"

In other words, not at the expense of others,

but, yes, sit down with friends, with family,

have good hot, nourishing food, and make the best of life.

We've only got one shot at life, so let's make it a good shot.

Michal's dinner isn't just going to be pizza and chips!

She's cooking a whole host of foodie goodness.

There's chicken soup with her own twist -

chopped liver and onions.

Oh, and plov.

What's plov?

I've no idea.

With any great comfort food, there's always a special ingredient.

-I've got you bone marrow. Here.

-That's fantastic.

I love you using bone marrow for my plov because it has so much flavour.

Actually, in Israel, they serve it as a delicacy in restaurants,

and it's quite expensive, but here they give it to the dogs.

I love it!

With loads to do, Michal gets cooking.

First up is a hearty chicken soup.

Everyone referred to it as the Jewish penicillin.

There is a very good reason for that.

It's a great, great mix

of vegetables, chicken,

love...spices...

It's a family recipe, but Michal's given it a British twist of her own.

Whenever I make my chicken soup, I think about my grandma

doing exactly the same thing I am doing now - apart from the parsnip -

because in Israel or Russia,

they didn't have parsnips.

Chicken soup is pretty universal comfort food,

but I think it's fair to say plov isn't something you see every day!

Oh, yeah, that looks like a tempting stew - beef, carrots, onions -

that'll definitely cheer me up.

It looks nice, it's hearty, it's full of flavour.

When you are feeling down, it brings you up.

It's like a psychiatrist, really!

Plov is from Uzbekistan,

and Michal has picked up the recipe from her parents.

And it's time for that special ingredient - marrow bone.

This is going to make the plov the most amazing flavour.

For Michal, the really traditional dish in this lot

is fried liver and onions.

My favourite thing in the whole world.

This is the proper Jewish chopped liver. You don't change it.

My mother makes the same, my sister makes the same,

my grandma made the same, my aunties make the same...

We are all making exactly the same dish.

You don't want to mess with that recipe!

To make it one big, tasty food hug,

the key is making it extra delicious without worrying about the calories!

It's our kind of cooking!

There's lots of oil, lots of livers,

you know, cholesterol!

Absolute comfort food!

And when you eat it, it's so good you don't think about a diet.

Michal lights candles to mark the beginning of Shabbat,

which starts as the sun goes down, and then it's back to more cooking!

Typically, there's never quite enough time.

DOORBELL Oh, goodness gracious.

First one's arrived!

Hey, how you doing?

Oh, but look at that spread!

It looks amazing, doesn't it?

And that's not even the main course!

Michal's husband Lee blesses the meal

and it's time to tuck in with friends and family.

Chicken soup with dumplings.

I love it.

The chicken soup is going down nicely,

but Michal's still got to finish off the plov!

-What's she doing?

-I don't know!

Ooh, that could go wrong. I can't look!

Ah, Dave, that looks champion, that, man!

-Oh, Michal, that looks delicious!

-Oh, wow!

For thousands of years, people have been brought together for Shabbat.

CHATTER

The Friday gathering is the perfect place to enjoy comfort foods

at their finest, and pass on their delights to the next generation.

Chicken soup!

My favourite!

British cuisine is always evolving and adapting.

Especially when it comes to soul food,

because our tastes are always being influenced

by the new people we meet.

And particularly by the people we love.

Now it's time for my ultimate comfort food,

and it's a little bit different, mine.

I'm not raking back into my memories from my childhood,

not my teens or my student years,

it's what I come home to and what I love - stuffed cabbage!

-SI SNIGGERS

-Well, don't laugh!

-Sorry!

-It's great!

-I know. Yeah, it is!

-I love to go home to my plate of sarmale...

-He does.

..and go to Romania with my in-laws.

Mother-in-law makes vast quantities of sarmale.

Stuffed cabbage rolls. Nobody will give me a recipe!

Every time I make 'em, they just say, "Is not like mine."

So anyway, Kingy, what have we done?

We've had to make one up ourselves, and it works and it's brilliant,

so...Dave's Romanian outlaws - in-laws and otherwise-law -

we've done it! And we don't care if we get it wrong,

because you wouldn't give us the recipe!

But what we do have is wonderful cabbage parcels filled with a pork stuffing.

-As they say in Romania...

-HE SPEAKS ROMANIAN

-"These are excellent."

-I think that means he likes it.

-I love cabbage.

-I know you do.

-Always loved cabbage.

-You know, the Ancient Greeks loved cabbage.

-Did they?

-Yes.

'Tis said that the cabbage came from Zeus.

Zeus concentrated so much, the sweat from his brow

landed on the ground, and up popped cabbage out of Zeus' sweat.

And it's time for us to show you our superpowers

by prepping our cabbage and making the filling.

Take some rice.

I've got 125g. That rice goes in there for five minutes.

We're going to drain it, we're going to cool it,

and then we're going to set it aside.

This is the sort of cabbage leaf you want.

You get about a dozen leaves off each cabbage.

When you get to the little leaves in the middle, forget it.

You'll never roll them.

Just save and cook yourself something later with that.

You know, knock yourself out.

I always loved that story about your dad.

-Oh, my dad, yes. It's true!

-It's brilliant.

-Cabbage in my life!

There was one time I came home...

One time I woke up, and my dad had come back from work

and he'd been on, like, nights.

And he was covered, all his legs and his arms and body,

with cabbage leaves, and the cabbage leaves were tied to him.

He was like the Jolly Green Giant.

And as he explained,

it was the thermal quality of cabbage on the motorbike,

he'd lined his body with cabbage to stop himself freezing to death.

Now, in Romania... And my wife, traditionally...

She's going to be at home now, going,

"That's not the cabbage you use!"

They use a spring cabbage. You know, the big kind of white ones.

The thing is, I like savoy cabbage. I think it's got more flavour.

So, I'm going to take my cabbage leaves and, like a happy rabbit,

I'm going to hop off over here and wash them.

And while Dave rinses his leaves,

I'm adding three chopped garlic cloves

and an onion to a hot pan with a glug of olive oil.

Pop the cabbage into a pan with one to two litres of boiling water,

cook them until they're nice and soft.

The rice has now been on for five minutes, so what I'm going to do,

I'm going to drain this off and run it under cold water

to stop the cooking process, because the rice will be cooked again

when Dave's wrapped them and stuffed them in the cabbage leaves.

The leaves come out.

Oh, these are just a bit more flexible now.

Cabbage doesn't have to be a green sludgy mess.

We're putting it centre stage and treating it with the respect

it deserves, so it keeps its colour and all that goodness.

I'm sure people like Mrs Beeton and my parents didn't help the cause.

I mean, Mrs Beeton's recipes,

she's said to boil a cabbage for 40 minutes.

-Oof, did she?

-My mum and dad, they would pressure-cook cabbage.

There wasn't that much left at the end of it, really.

Despite that,

stuffed cabbage was one of the cheap and filling dishes

that kept us Brits going through the lean war years.

The Greeks and Romans, they did realise

-that cabbage was very, very healthy.

-Really?

But they believed that it prevented intoxication.

Eat cabbage, don't get drunk.

Maybe that's why Romanians always eat sarmales

before any form of celebration.

Rest assured, the theory does not work.

Right...

To the onion and garlic stuffing, add one teaspoon of hot paprika

and three of sweet.

Get off the heat, stir it in.

And we are going to get a glass bowl, just to let that cool.

You know, the smell of boiling cabbage, I do find it comforting.

Whether it be at home, at my in-laws, or even school dinners.

-Did you?

-Yes.

-Man!

Cabbage water, I'm going to use it for cooking the sarmales.

So, I put that into a jug.

A chicken stock cube.

And set that aside for later.

But now it's time to build our sarmale stuffing mix.

To the rice, add a handful of chopped parsley,

500g of raw pork mince

and finally, the colourful paprika, garlic and onion stuffing.

And now season well with salt and pepper.

And mix well.

And then pass to your best mate, who is the cabbage stuffer,

to use when he is ready.

What I'm doing, making it easier to roll,

I'm going through leaf by leaf, and you cut out that tough spine.

Take care you don't go all the way through.

Take your leaf, place it cut side up, and take, like,

a little sausage of your par-cooked rice and meat stuffing.

Put your little sausage there down the spine and start to roll.

Get to there, tuck your end in and carry on rolling to the end.

And then take this end,

and you want to do it like a little belly button - just tuck it in.

Now, while Dave is doing that,

I'm going to make a very, very quick tomato sauce.

Tomato sauce is not traditional, but it's nice with it.

Tin of tomatoes.

Tomato puree. Two tablespoons full.

Fill the tomato up with water.

A teaspoon of caster sugar.

Little bit of salt.

Stir with a wooden spoon.

If you're making tomato sauce, don't stir with a metal spoon,

because there is a chemical reaction between the spoon

and the acidity in the tomatoes that will turn your sauce tangy.

And then cook that down on a good simmer for 25 minutes.

So, really doesn't take long once you get a bit of a run on.

Hey-hey! There's no stopping us now! We're on a roll.

-It is brilliant. It doesn't leak, does it?

-No.

-That's brilliant.

-They are good, them.

-All right.

And when you've got two layers in the pan,

cover with the cabbage water chicken stock.

Put the lid on and simmer it for about 40 minutes.

Oh, that smell takes me back to Transylvania.

There's a wedding, the sarmales are bubbling away,

but they do man dancing.

-Do they?

-The blokes dance.

-What do you do?

# Hey-da-da-hey-hey

# Da-dee-day-day Hey-diddle-day... #

The time flies when you're having fun, or even doing this.

So much so, the cabbage packets of porky goodness are ready to dish up.

-Look at this!

-They are absolutely stuffed with stuffing.

Comfort food's personal.

This is my personal little treat.

-But I can feel myself getting nostalgic.

-I'm not surprised.

You know, with the smell of them. Look at that. Stuffed cabbage rolls.

Comfort food that's not only great value, but hearty and good for you.

Topped with tomato sauce, soured cream and sauerkraut,

this really is one dish I know my mucker would love you to try.

Well...

-I can see why, mate. I can see why.

-It's humble, it's hearty.

-It's like your flat-rib broth.

-Yes. It is.

That's what it's about, comfort, isn't it,

when you're at home? It's about this.

-It's your personal story, isn't it?

-Yes.

-On a plate.

-Of course it is.

Look at that. That rice and pork is cooked through.

I'm going to take a little bit of sauerkraut as well.

Yes. Sauerkraut...

Oh, mate! Mm!

A feel-good dish using all the best of British ingredients.

Comfort food's for you personally. And this one is for me.

But I am sharing, if you fancy some.

Comfort food is often influenced by places

you or your family grew up.

Whether it's Swindon or Senegal, Pakistan or Portsmouth,

a taste of home is just what's needed to give you a boost.

But this homely food also has a great influence on British cooking

as a whole, and there's one group whose influence

is brighter, brasher and louder than most.

Notting Hill Carnival is Europe's biggest, brightest street party

and has been held on London's streets since 1965.

It's a three-day celebration of all things West Indian

and a real treat for the senses.

Not least your taste buds!

Caribbean food and drink is worth £77 million a year to the

British economy and like the dancing, the dishes on show

at the carnival offer a cracking glimpse of the region's culture.

Trinidadian chef, Hasan Defour, is going to be cooking

breakfast for the 700-strong dancing troupe called Pure Lime.

And in true comfort food style he's cooking a dish

that will fill their stomachs with a reassuring taste of carnival home,

and energy for the dancing day ahead.

Today I'm going to be cooking fry bakes,

which is a Caribbean fried bread

and I'm going to make a saltfish buljol, as we call it in Trinidad.

They're going to get wings with this. They'll enjoy it.

But his breakfast is more than just filling food.

It has to bring the whole spirit of the carnival with it.

We're in London. Sometimes the weather might not be on our side

but what I can do as a chef is ensure that they get that breakfast,

that home taste that mummy and granny used to make,

that smell that you wake up in the morning

smelling those lovely fried bakes,

that is what they're going to get.

This is no English fry-up.

There's not going to be any beans involved today.

This is what I came here for.

Salted cod fish is in many a home.

They have it in fritters for breakfast.

You have it as part of a main meal

with the ground provisions, dasheen and yam and stuff.

It's still a very important part of Caribbean food.

# London is the place for me... #

For the Windrush generation arriving from the late '40s,

Britain wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

I can't let you in. I've got 14 English boys in here.

Faced with a country that was often hostile, holding onto recipes

and dishes that reminded them of home was particularly important.

Compared to the bland austerity food of the post-war years,

West Indian cooking is something no-one would want to leave behind.

Drawing on ingredients

and influences from all over the world, but with a distinct

Caribbean style, it's a cuisine that celebrates flavour and spice.

Famous for fish dishes, curried goat and jerk chicken,

Caribbean food's influence is growing in Britain.

And the Notting Hill Carnival has done more than its share to

make it popular.

On the eve of the carnival, there's just time for Hasan to do

one final test run of his tasty Caribbean breakfast.

It don't matter which island you're from in the Caribbean -

you could start way up at Jamaica and come down to Trinidad and Tobago.

Saltfish and bakes are eaten in homes

throughout the archipelago of islands.

We're going to be doing it Caribbean style.

The first stage in getting this dish ready

is preparing the saltfish.

It might be a cheap food. It's one of those homely flavours

that you just love.

Hasan boils the saltfish in fresh water several times

to get rid of some of the excess salt.

While it's boiling, he chops the veg that is going to give his recipe

that Caribbean style, like tomatoes, lots of peppers,

and spring onions.

With all these colours, you're feeling the sunshine.

You know it's something Caribbean cooking in this kitchen right now.

Well, you've got to admire his optimism!

He'll need all the sunshine he can get his hands on!

These are extremely hot.

These are the daddies on the pepper world - Scotch bonnets.

You've got to be very careful.

It depends on how much spice you want to add to the dish.

If you watch, you can see there's a white sort of membrane and seeds.

That is where it is most hot.

That is where you touch, you better go and wash

your hands because you're going to be in trouble

if you touch your eyes, touch anywhere.

Be careful when you're using these Scotch bonnets.

Next up, some garlic.

This is what makes that real taste of home.

This the old school way of doing it.

This is the way your granny and your great-granny

would have grown up seeing it made in Trinidad.

I'm sharing a bit of my secrets but I've got love for you guys!

That's it.

With the fish sorted, Hasan prepares a type of bread called fry bake.

So what is it, fried or baked?

Well, it's fried.

-Not baked?

-I don't think so.

-Just fried?

-Yes.

-Why's it not called fry?

-I don't know.

It's nearly time to eat, people!

Golden sunshine, that's what we're looking for.

Love it.

When my mum used to make them,

right now it's just a bit of butter and cheese...

and you're happy, you know?

Saltfish buljol, ready. Fry bakes, ready.

I need some people to sample it.

This is Hasan's mother's recipe.

Hey. All right?

And no-one makes comfort food like your mum.

Pressure's on Hasan.

This is very good.

Ten out of ten.

-As good as yours?

-As good as mine.

-Nice. Thanks.

I'm feeling happy now. I'm a happy chef!

OK, they're off. There's 700 hungry dancers to impress.

This is going to be hard, hard grafting.

We're going to be working straight through the night

to ensure that we get this job done.

Now, that's dedication.

As the sun rises over the festival,

Hasan's breakfast is getting the party started.

We have opened these boxes and the sunshine has just

come out and it has exploded on the Notting Hill Carnival.

We're having some fun, the music trucks are ready,

the food is being served, masqueraders are coming in.

This is what London needs.

Delicious.

This kind of food reminds me of when I'm back home

and my mum makes bake and saltfish in the morning.

It gives you that feeling so you can come out

and carnival and jump.

And have fun.

SHE LAUGHS

It's really good.

Bring it on!

With Hasan's help, the signature flavours of Caribbean cooking

will keep people dancing all day.

As we've seen, our idea of what constitutes comfort food is

formed at an early age.

And apart from home, for many of us, school had a pretty big role

to play when it came the education of our taste buds.

Ah, the British school dinner! It's an institution loved by some,

loathed by others.

But whether you look back at them with fondness...

-..or terror...

-..one thing's for sure, they will have left

an indelible mark on the memory of everyone who ate them.

# Yummy, yummy, yummy

# I've got love in my tummy

# And I feel like I'm loving you... #

You tell me what sort of food you'd have every day.

Erm, we have pork, lots of fish fingers.

Boiled potatoes.

Tomatoes.

Beans and peas.

I can't remember!

But no-one could forget the smell!

The minute I think about school dinners,

I get a whiff of boiled turnip.

The Education Act of 1944 made it compulsory

for all schools to supply every child

with a school dinner.

Over the coming decades, they provided

generations of children with their first taste of food

outside the home.

If there's something you don't like,

say something like spinach, do they say

you can leave it or do they make you eat it?

Sometimes they make you eat it.

Ah! This was the golden age of school dinners.

Not a turkey twizzler or a fizzy drink in sight.

Yep, and no salad either - unless you counted

bitter limp iceberg.

Just good, solid, hearty food.

And whilst some were easy to please...

What's your favourite food at school?

Anything what fills me!

-Do you get enough of it?

-Yeah.

..others were more opinionated.

What do you like best of all to eat?

Er, potatoes and greens and sausages and fried eggs.

-Do you always get those things to eat at school?

-No.

Processed meat, an ice cream scoop of mashed potato, overcooked veg

-and a gravy that you could cut with a knife.

-Magic!

-What do you particularly like?

-Sausages.

-Sausages.

-Sausages.

Ah, cheap school chipolatas! I have never managed to find

a sausage that quite lives up to their memory.

At the end of the day though, there really was

only one thing that mattered.

Pudding was always a proper cooked affair, served with a slice of custard.

We get jam tart.

We get sometimes chocolate cake with chocolate custard.

-Which pudding do you like best?

-Apple pie.

-Is it not as good as home cooking?

-Well, not really.

My favourite was rice pudding with a nice thick skin on it, you know?

What was yours?

A lovely slice of Manchester tart.

Ooh, nice!

But there was a downside.

BOTH: Semolina!

When it came to school dinners, some days were definitely better than others.

But you were always guaranteed a good, proper hot meal.

And whether you enjoyed it or not, one feeling was universal.

That heart-sinking moment when the bell rang

and it was time to go back to class.

BELL RINGS

Of all the school favourites, there's one dish that's closer to our hearts than most.

Love it or hate it, rice pudding is one the nation's favourite comfort foods.

But we've taken this classic and given it a Hairy Bikers spin.

And to top off the creamy goodness, a rich, fruity prune Marsala compote.

It couldn't be simpler.

It's rice pudding reloaded.

I'll go and get a pan.

And into it pour one litre of whole milk and put over a medium flame.

For richness, a knob of butter, optional.

-The rice. You don't need much rice, do you?

-150g, that's all.

-That's it.

Add the rice and grate half a nutmeg into it.

Although we've taken a few liberties with the rice pudding,

we're still keeping good old-fashioned traditional flavours.

And those flavours just keep on coming.

A stick of cinnamon.

And you know what, you could use already ground nutmeg,

but don't, because it's fresher and lovely off the meg.

They often say a nutmeg does last a long time,

and it keeps its flavour, as long as you don't grind it.

-And stir.

-And cook for 20 minutes.

The butter will melt, the spices will infuse the milk,

and the rice will start to go soft.

I don't know about you, Kingy, but I loved rice pudding at home,

the way my mam made it, and she always had it with a skin that thick on,

-and that was the best bit. She always used evaporated milk...

-Yes!

-..which made it quite creamy.

-Yeah.

You've got to admit...

..tins of rice pudding are quite nice cold, aren't they?

-Particularly if you just eat it out of the tin.

-Out of the tin. I know.

And when you take the top off, what I do, sometimes,

I put jam in it.

Now, it's important that you continue to stir this.

-So it doesn't stick.

-Aye.

-Do you know AA Milne who wrote Winnie the Pooh?

-Yes.

He wrote a poem called Rice Pudding.

And the poem goes something like this:

Whatever is the matter With Mary Jane?

She's perfectly well And she hasn't a pain

And the thing is It's rice pudding for dinner again.

And now to the compote and the inspiration for many a poet - booze!

In a pan, 150ml of Marsala wine.

That wonderful old-fashioned booty.

-This is a well boozed-up pudding.

-It's brilliant.

-Oh, aye.

-But that's what you want, don't you?

You want those comforting, warming elements to your pud, don't you?

-Yes! Like brandy.

-Exactly!

One tablespoon should do the trick.

And of course, you can leave it out completely if you are tee-total.

The juice of one orange gives the compote a fruity and sweet zing

and really complements the cinnamon and nutmeg.

That's a great orange.

And 25 grams of golden caster sugar.

To that, a heap of prunes.

And lastly, the finely grated zest of an orange.

-Ooh, lovely.

-Bring that to a simmer.

Let it bubble for five minutes until it's reduced by half.

The alcohol will boil off, so it's all right for the nippers.

And the flavours will intensify and the prunes will expand.

Leave to go cold, and you'll never put a dollop of cheap jam

-in the middle of your pudding again.

-Never!

Do you know, rice pudding was a descendant of the early

rice potages which date back to Roman times.

Rice potages were very expensive,

because the rice had to come from overseas,

and they were the preserve of the rich, which were eaten during Lent.

There isn't much we don't know about puddings,

and I can tell you that this one is coming on a treat.

-Ooh, nice!

-Beautiful.

-Dude!

-That needs to cool now.

I think I'm ready. Look, I've gone thick and creamy.

-That's what we are looking for.

-It certainly is.

-It is.

Rice pudding is in the house.

Another half litre of milk.

To the rice pudding, add 50g of golden sugar

and some chopped candied fruit peel.

You want about a good tablespoon of this.

We've got some orange and lemon.

Now this needs to simmer for another 40 minutes, stirring regularly.

No pressure, Si.

Don't worry, mate, it's in safe hands.

There's nothing worse than a burnt rice pud, wouldn't you agree?

Dave?

Dave?

Here! Sleeping beauty!

We're done.

(Honestly.)

-That's worked a treat, hasn't it?

-Hasn't it?

-That's the texture you want.

-That's it. That's comfort.

Do you know, that looks so good it could have come out of a tin.

-It could, it's true.

-It hasn't. We're not in the business of deception.

-Oh, no.

Beautiful.

Great on its own, even better with a dainty dollop of prune compote.

Oh, beautifully placed, Mr Myers.

And a sprinkling of golden toasted almonds.

Isn't that lovely?

That's comfort food.

Our rice pudding and plum compote reloaded

in a comfortable sort of fashion.

If rice pudding is a comfort food, that's a fluffy slipper.

Isn't it? It's a onesie.

-Mmm!

-That's lovely.

-Oh, it is.

-Do you know what I like about it? It's not too sweet.

-No, it's not.

Oh, hey, that is good.

Mmm, the almonds are nice, Dave.

Yes, the compote is great, you mix that in, sweetens up the rice.

What I love about it, though, is the cinnamon and nutmeg are there.

-Yes, they are.

-But very, very subtle.

They just make it, like, super nice rice pudding.

-Mmm.

-A marriage made in heaven.

-It is.

And you know what? It's still got that yummy comfort factor

of our mothers' rice pudding that we remember from when we were children.

But maybe just that little bit more up-to-date.

And there we have it in all its creamy gorge-if-ousness.

Just the sight of it is enough to warm the heart.

And that is what all good comfort food should do -

Connect us to our past...

..The people we love...

..And the places we feel most at home.

And if you'd like to find out more about today's recipes, go to:

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