The unassuming star

I’ve never been much of a fan of potato croquettes. ‘Flaccid’ and ‘bland’ are two words which spring to mind.

And yet, I recently assumed that their bad rep (in my mind at least) stems from they’re being a victim of their own convenience. I mean, how often have you had potato croquettes which haven’t come out of a packet? For me, up until last week, that was a grand total of one time.

GERMANY

As a student, I had the good fortune to live with a family in Germany for a spell and croquettes were served up one night, soon after I’d arrived. The German Mutter (whose name, I am ashamed to say, I can’t remember), had lived for a time in France. Her English was nil but her French was good. As my German was nil and my French was passable, we conversed in a strange mixture of all three languages. But I can remember giving her a hand in the kitchen that night that she made the croquettes. My job, perhaps understandably, only extended as far as peeling the spuds – a feat I accomplished with much verve.

I am also ashamed to admit that I can’t remember what the croquettes were like, despite them being home-made. Although that might have had something to do with the copious glasses of Mosel white wine which was being pushed in my direction. Anyway…

HOME AGAIN

As you might have guessed, I have had to reassess my opinion of croquettes after my first foray into the world of mashed potato coated in breadcrumbs and fried turned out to be one of my favourite food moments of the year so far.

And best of all, it all came about entirely by accident…

As you can see from the photo, last Sunday I pushed the boat out for Sunday lunch. It was braising steak in red wine, buttered mash, roasted asparagus, honeyed carrots, wild garlic bread and the pièce de résistance, a cheesy béchamel potato croquette.

The accident element of proceedings started the night before when I was making the cheesy béchamel for drizzling over dirty fries. As is the way with making stuff up on the hoof, I was left with a load of béchamel and was reluctant to throw it out. This was retired to the fridge where it chilled out and then solidified into a glorious lump.

On the Sunday, as I was putting the steamed Roosters through a potato ricer, I realised I would have way too much mash for four people and I would soon have left overs of that too.

“Why not make cheesy béchamel potato croquettes, you fool,” a voice inside my head said. So that’s what I did.

Seeing as how the béchamel has set into that glorious lump, I gave it a blast in the microwave to soften things up. This went into a big bowl for mixing, with a generous amount of seasoned mash and then I mixed everything to within an inch of its life.

After that, I floured my hands and formed the cylindrical croquettes.

These went into the fridge for a chillax as I finished cooking the rest of the dinner.

After about an hour’s chilling, I dredged the croquettes through flour, beaten egg and then breadcrumbs and then they were deep fried for only a few minutes – possibly two, before were placed in a medium oven to stay warm and crisp until serving.

As you can also see from the photo, these croquettes were quite large; a by-product of my croquette inexperience. However, taste-wise, they were magical.

While the braising steak had been cooked in the red white across ten hours until meltingly tender and while I relished the first asparagus of the season (the wild garlic bread wasn’t half bad either), the croquette was the unassuming star of the show.

Crispy on the outside and fluffy and cheesy within, they were outstandingly good.

They had that perfect combination of textures, seasoning and richness which make for the essence of fine French cuisine.