My Thoughts on Sausage & Mash

Food in winter is all about comfort and familiarity. Even though I rarely have the heart to admit it those well-intentioned souls who try and maintain super-healthy diets in the depths of December, there’s something that seems a bit unnatural about grilled red mullet at this time of year. If I am going to have fish, it’s almost certainly going to be in a pie, a stew, or a curry – hold the rocket salad and the mango salsa until April, please. In place of the light, Mediterranean style of cooking many of us favour in the warmer months, we have the tried and tested favourites more commonly associated with British cuisine.

Everybody has a favourite in the comfort food stakes. Usually, it’s something that takes them back to their childhood. For me, my mum’s roast chicken dinners will always hold the top spot, with brow-mopping curries - like the lamb farcha from the superb Cinnamon in New Cross - being a close second. Also definitely in my top five is sausage and mash. I don’t expect for a moment that I’m alone in this. Unfortunately, it’s a dish that’s frequently abused, most obviously by the identikit Ye Olde Pub Grub menus that curse our country’s drinking dens. Instant mash, granulated gravy, and cheap, fatty sausages might fool a few hapless tourists, but not those of us who live life on a fork’s edge.

Now, I’m sure Felicity Cloake could write a small encyclopaedia on the matter, but the key to good sausage and mash is very simple as I see it - it’s all about the bangers. Apologies for lapsing into such a flagrant Jamieism, but getting the best you can afford really is important here. After all, with only delicious if slightly samey spuds and gravy accompanying it (and therefore very little else denting your wallet), the porky chaps are absolutely the star of the show. If ever there’s a time to splash out a couple of extra quid at a decent butcher’s shop, this is it.

If you’re a Londoner, rare breed specialists The Ginger Pig are an excellent option. With five locations dotted strategically around the capital, they’re accessible for most people and not just worth going to for porcine related produce. They also excel in offering under-appreciated cuts of meat alongside superlative examples of mainstream favourites. My last visit saw 35 day aged rump steak being flogged next to ox cheeks, pig trotters, and, yes, an entire pig’s head. As ingredients, they’re unlikely to win you Come Dine With Me - and I wouldn’t even know where to begin with the latter - but it’s inspiring to see nonetheless. We lap up the nose-to-tail concept when it appears on restaurant menus; it follows that we should also be making an effort to incorporate it into our cooking at home.

What else is there to say about humble S&M? I like to brown mine off in the pan first before finishing them in the oven. Make sure you allow for the fact that different sausages will have different cooking times, so an ultra-lean venison banger will only take about half as long as a plump Cumberland. I’m also a firm believer that if you prick you are one, but that’s about it. Getting top quality, interesting sausages is what elevates this effortless meal to new heights. I like to opt for a selection: on this occasion, classic Old Spot alongside rich beef with red wine, and finally fiery jerk-spiced pork. 

A few simply roasted root veg – thyme is a nice, understated addition if you’re the sort who, like me, finds it difficult to do anything plainly – or some classy sautéed garlic and herb mushrooms lift it even more. Caramelised apples also make a wicked accompaniment if you can be bothered.

You can tart it up further by playing around with the mash, making your puree out of any number of root vegetables, or drugging it with some garlic, olives or herbs. Listen to your palate and use some common sense: an olive and herb mash might pair fantastically with Italian-style sausages but really clash with more traditional varieties. Gravy wise, I find it hard to take issue with classic onion-led concoctions and love mine spiked with a good splash of booze. Usually, I’ll go for a fruity red wine for extra richness, but white wine, cider, and decent ale (never lager) all work well.

Other than that, the key is patience: get the gravy going as soon as the sausages go in the oven so it has plenty of time to reduce, and finish it with all the lovely roasting juices and maybe half a knob of butter. Good stock is vital, with homemade being the best by a mile but also sadly the most inconvenient. Still, I think it’s well worth the effort to make some once or twice a month – it freezes fantastically well so one laborious afternoon will sort you out for a while. It makes such a difference to gravies and other sauces and is a classic chef’s secret. Of course, don’t waste the good stuff on merely flavouring plain rice or couscous, but do use it as your base in fancier dishes like risottos. Give it I go and I bet you’ll never look back.

This farmhouse favourite can easily become a (vaguely) elegant started by scaling it down: a nice, smooth line of mash along the middle of the plate, topped with a lone sausage, easy on the gravy. But if it’s just you, the dog, and sex-starved Danish detectives on the box, the more stuff splashing around on the plate the merrier I say! 

As a final touch, chopped fresh parsley may seem a bit predictable, but it's still a nice touch. If there’s anything that exponentially increases the pleasure of watching an expertly scripted cop drama set in a country with weather that’s even worse than our own, it could well be as simple as sausages and potatoes.