2016 was slowly but surely coming to a close, I had spent my Christmas with my new Grandson (Aiden), daughter and her partner in Berlin, while Linda had flown off to sunny climes (Ireland) to spend it with her 96 year old Father. We had both arrived back on the 29th (I had picked her up at Hamburg Airport) and so we spent the 30th shopping (and eating at Gosh) and preparing our portion of the end of year feast.
1 tsp fresh rosemary needles
Remove from the fridge about 1 hour before the roasting so that it comes up to room temperature.
Turn down the temperature to 175°C and cook until the inner temperature is how you like it (rare 50C, medium rare 55°C and if anyone likes it any other way you shouldn’t have invited them). Use an oven thermometer anything else is just guess work.
Allow to rest covered in foil, for a good 30 minutes before carving, this will allow all the juices that have been driven to the centre of the joint to once again defuse throughout the meat. Carve in 3mm thick slices and drape across each dish, put a good dollop of homemade Remoulade sauce onto each slice, which brings me onto the next recipe.
Homemade Remoulade sauce.
1 large egg yolk
Papas Arrogadas-Wrinkly Potatoes
Next a layer of the cream/Mascarpone mix, spread some of the orange filets on top, then repeat the process until all of the mixture is used (or the bowl is full) finishing with a layer of cream/Mascarpone. Store in a cool place until ready to serve.
The 16 course Silvester Menu of the Kikoklu and guests 2016/2017
Dietmar: Beetroot with a Horseradish Mousse and a Cress and Walnut dressing.
Me: Roast Beef (strip loin) in a herb crust. With a Remoulade sauce, served with Papas Arrugadas and a piquant smokey paprika sauce.
We arrived about 5 minutes before midnight but already the throng was banging, fizzing and popping. We handed out the plastic beakers, opened the Sekt and as the ships sounded midnight on their sirens, the corks popped and we wished one another all the best for 2017.
All around us the fireworks went into overdrive, rockets, big exploding fire crackers, roman candles you name it they were going off tonight, money to burn.
After braving the wind, the acrid smoke, the wayward rockets narrowly missing us, enough was enough, we headed back up the hill and to the warmth of Marianne’s and Martin’s apartment. We watched a bit of TV, some videos and listened to the late deceased George Michael. Kalle then served us with his half frozen.