The weekend cook: Thomasina Miers’ rhubarb recipes

Forced rhubarb brings a welcome blast of colour to the January table, whether in a zingy pickle to serve with roast meat, cold cuts and cheese, or poached and served with jelly

Thomasina Miers’ roast molasses pork belly with warm rhubarb pickle.
Thomasina Miers’ roast molasses pork belly with warm rhubarb pickle. Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

The weekend cook: Thomasina Miers’ rhubarb recipes

Forced rhubarb brings a welcome blast of colour to the January table, whether in a zingy pickle to serve with roast meat, cold cuts and cheese, or poached and served with jelly

Mid-January is never a great time of year – the weather can be bleak and everyone’s feeling a bit broke. Comforting soups can help, but brassicas and roots do start to lose some of their appeal around about now, through overfamiliarity if nothing else.

Thankfully, this is also a time when nature delivers a welcome blast of colour in the form of blood oranges and forced rhubarb, as exciting to a food lover as a new set of paints is to an artist. Rhubarb thrills me in particular, for both its flavour and its vivid, neon pink. The acidity adds a refreshing sharpness to both this week’s recipes, a sticky, meaty braise and a milky-white jelly. That pink looks especially glorious against the jellies , inspired by the bonkers multicoloured ones sold on the streets of Oaxaca City.

Roast molasses pork belly with warm rhubarb pickle

The pork cooks slowly in molasses and cider until it’s dark, treacly and succulent, and goes so well with this zingy spiced pickle. Serves six to eight.

1.5kg pork belly, skin scored
Flaky sea salt
2 tsp fennel seeds
½ tsp black peppercorns
50g molasses sugar
3 tbsp olive oil
3 carrots, peeled and cut into 5cm lengths
2 celery sticks, cut into 5cm lengths

500ml dry cider
100ml water
For the pickle
500g rhubarb, cut into 3-4cm lengths
70g cider vinegar
30g caster sugar
1-2 tsp coriander seeds, toasted and lightly bashed

Heat the oven to 230C/450F/gas mark 8. Pat dry the pork skin with kitchen paper, then season the skin liberally with flaky sea salt. Line a roasting tin with two layers of foil.

Warm the fennel seeds and peppercorns in a dry frying pan for a couple of minutes, then roughly grind. Add the molasses, oil and half a teaspoon of salt, and work the mixture into a rough paste. Rub this into the flesh of the pork, taking care not to get it on the skin and working it right into the layers of meat and fat. Scatter the carrots and celery in the prepared roasting tray, then lay the pork skin side up on top. Pour in the cider and water, again taking care not to get any on the skin, then roast for 10-20 minutes. Turn down the heat to 170C/335F/gas mark 3 and roast for another 90 minutes, until the flesh is tender enough to pull apart with forks.

In the last half-hour of cooking, toss the rhubarb with the vinegar, sugar, coriander seeds and a pinch of salt. Tip the lot into an oven dish and roast alongside the pork for 15 minutes, until soft, then remove from the oven.

If the pork skin needs more crackling, whack up the heat again and roast for 10-15 minutes more. Once the skin is looking crunchy and golden, leave the pork to rest somewhere warm for 15 minutes, then slice and serve with the rhubarb, drizzling over any juices from the pan, and serve with mash.

Goat’s milk and rosemary jelly with poached rhubarb

Thomasina Miers’ goat’s milk and rosemary jelly with poached rhubarb.
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Thomasina Miers’ goat’s milk and rosemary jelly with poached rhubarb. Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

I love the delicate flavours of the goat’s milk and rosemary in these jellies almost as much as the bright sparkle of anise-scented rhubarb. You can serve these jellies in glasses with the rhubarb spooned on top, or turn them out on to plates, in which case you will need eight small 120ml ramekins, greased with oil. Serves eight.

6 sprigs rosemary, leaves picked and roughly chopped
1 litre whole goat’s milk
200g caster sugar
½ tsp vanilla extract
12 leaves gelatin

For the rhubarb
4 tbsp water
125g caster sugar
The juice and zest of 1 orange
1 star anise
1 tbsp Pernod (or other anise; optional)
450g rhubarb, washed and cut into 4cm lengths

Put the rosemary, milk, sugar and vanilla in a pan, bring to a boil and simmer gently for five minutes. Remove from the heat and leave to infuse for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, soften the gelatin leaves in cold water (according to the packet instructions).

Pass the infused milk through a sieve into a jug and discard the rosemary. Pour 100ml of the milk back into the pan, gently warm up and, when it’s hot but not boiling, take the pan off the heat. Drain the gelatin, squeezing out the excess water, and stir into the warm milk, until it has dissolved. Pour the mixture back into the jug with the rest of the milk, then pour into the ramekins or glasses. Refrigerate for two to three hours, until set.

While the jelly is setting, poach the rhubarb. In a pan large enough to hold the rhubarb in a single layer, heat the water, sugar, orange, anise and liqueur (if using) until the sugar dissolves, then add the stalks. Cover, simmer for five to eight minutes, until the rhubarb feels just tender to the tip of a knife (it will keep cooking off the heat), then set aside to cool.

If you’ve made the jelly in ramekins, when you’re ready to eat, fill a bowl with hot water and carefully submerge the base of each ramekin, holding it in the hot water for three-second intervals and giving it a gentle shake, until you see the jelly coming away from the sides, then use a palette knife to help loosen the sides. Put a plate on top of each ramekin and up-end to turn out. Serve at once with the cooled rhubarb and its syrup spooned around. Otherwise, serve the jelly in glasses with a layer of the vivid pink rhubarb on top.

And for the rest of the week…

Double up on the rhubarb pickle: it keeps for at least a week in the fridge and is delicious with cheese and cold meats. The pork makes fantastic leftovers – cut it into thin slices for sandwiches or into strips for egg-fried rice and stir-fries. I adore poached rhubarb spooned over Greek yoghurt for breakfast.