All the leaves are brown…

Once upon a time, I packed up my troubles in my old kit bag and headed to London to make my fortune.

It was 2010: Owl City were in the charts singing about fireflies and the big news was that Cadbury’s had been bought out by American rivals Kraft Foods (RIP Milk Tray).

I actually did go to London that year but rather than seeking my fortune, I was away to my friend Nick’s wedding – which turned out to be a sumptuous affair in the Cotswolds with lamb as the main and bacon sarnies for the evening snack – anyways…

Seeing as how we were flying in and out of London, after the wedding we (me and Herself) decided we would spend a few days looking for deadly curries on Brick Lane and hoking around in Soho for gyros and sushi.

As part of this mission, there were also a few touristy items on the agenda: The Natural History Museum, Buckingham Palace and Harrods.

“You can’t buy anything in Harrods,” my mother informed me before we departed.

“Ah, sure I’ll buy an ice-cream or a packet of chewing gum or something.”

“Good luck with that.”

I remember that on the day in question (post Cotswolds and pre Natural History), I had consumed plate after plate of neon sushi for lunch, all washed down with two tins of Sapporo Beer and it was thus newly rotund and sated that I found myself on Brompton Road in shiny Knightsbridge staring up at the sage green Harrods awnings, wondering if I needed a Gaviscon rather than an ice-cream.

“Sure, we’ll take a look inside,” Herself suggested and so that’s what we did.

On our way under the awnings and through the door, I had a brainwave. I wanted to buy something – anything – and I concluded: What better example of humble commerce than a condiment of some description. Some mayo or ketchup from Harrods maybe – or perhaps a bottle of brown sauce.

Brown sauce! That would be just the ticket and to boot, since my father-in-law is a certified fan of HP, what better gift to bring back.

This gift plan lasted until such times as we eventually discovered the food hall with all its culinary glitz and glam. Remember now, this was long before the current cost of living crisis and long before even the arse falling out of the housing market and the resultant credit crunch.

“You can’t buy anything in Harrods,” my mother’s words echoed in my ears as I lifted a bottle of Harrods Brown Sauce and checked the price. And do you know, she was right.

Coming in at a whopping £6 for about 150ml, I checked the ingredient list to see if there were any precious metals therein.

£6? I think not. For that sort of money I could buy at least four bottles of HP at home.

“You can’t buy anything in Harrods,” I said to myself and then we continued onward to check out the overpriced dog houses for people with more money than sense.

Strangely enough, I have wondered ever since how good the brown sauce from Harrods might have been, when compared with the ubiquitous stuff in our local supermarkets. These wonderings bubbled to the surface again last week when I set out to make my own brown sauce at home.

That’s right, dear reader, brown sauce is perfectly achievable in your own kitchen and what is more, I would bet that it would even give the most expensive stuff a run for its money in terms of taste.

Technically speaking, this version of brown sauce is actually tonkatsu sauce, that Japanese staple beloved of okonomiake fans.

Surprisingly it tastes remarkably like the brown sauce that we know and love except it contains a certain tangy sweetness, a flavour not entirely dissimilar to Branston Pickle – which works so well in combination with mayo, not to mention egg and onion sandwiches.

I first encountered this sauce in that exceptional Japanese cook book, JapanEasy: Classic and Modern Japanese Recipes to Cook at Home and I was encouraged to make when author and former Masterchef winner, Tim Anderson suggested that it is perhaps the best accompaniment for a bacon or sausage sandwich. I’m not sure if it’s necessarily the ‘best’ but ever since making that first tonkatsu, I’ve been hooked.

Honestly, give this recipe a rattle. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.

INGREDIENTS

200ml of Worcestershire sauce

4 tbps of soy sauce (light soy, if you’re using Chinese)

2 tbsps of mirin

2 and a half tbsps of dark brown sugar

2 tbsps of malt vinegar

1 small leek (white part only), finely diced

1 clove of garlic, skin on but lightly bashed

6 medjool dates, chopped

half an apple, chopped

1 tsp of mustard (I used Dijon)

quarter tsp of white pepper

pinch of chilli flakes (optional)

220ml of tomato sauce

THE PLAN

Into a small sauce pan, combine the Worcestershire, soy, vinegar, sugar, onions, dates, apple and garlic and bring to a light simmer. Cook away for about 15 minutes until it’s starting to thicken and the leek is soft. Add the pepper, mustard, ketchup and chilli flakes (if using), stir through and then, after removing the garlic clove, blitz with a handblender. And that’s it. Deadly on a ham or bacon sandwich and surprisingly (for me at least), it goes down a bomb in an egg and onion sandwich.