I don’t actually remember Mum growing thyme when we lived in Auckland in the Fifties and Sixties. She managed a bit of mint, and some chives. I think she tried parsley, too, but I don’t recall that she ever had much success with it. Maybe thyme was too foreign and too “fancy”, the sort of herb that you typically associated with such out-of-reach—and often scoffed at—culinary delights such as cordon bleu anything or French food in general?
Over the last sixty-odd years times have changed radically, excuse the pun. By the 21st century it’s all systems go with herbs, and in June 2018 we find the big cookery database, Australia’s Best Recipes, offering “Good thymes! 18 ways to use fresh and dried thyme”. It asks: “Do you have an endless supply of this herb growing in your garden? Or maybe you’ve got several opened packets stuffed into a tupperware container that you can never seem to find the right meal to add it to? [sic] Well, your problem is sorted thanks to these delicious sweet and savoury eats.”
The notion that we want eighteen recipes using a herb is as indicative of the 21st-century Antipodean mindset as is the shaky syntax.
When I started reading the Green and Gold Cookery Book (15th ed. (rev.), Adelaide, R.M. Osborne, circa 1949), I didn’t expect mid-20th-century Australian cookery to be quite so bad. Well, I knew that on the other side of the Tasman Mum’s idea of meat and veg had been pretty tasteless, yes. (See Killing Vegetables – Cabbage) And a friend had passed on her husband’s horror tales of his Australian mother’s cooking in the same period—even worse. But as I staggered through the book, which is the result of nearly half a century of accretions and amendments, I realised that there was some excuse for the bad cooks of the mid-century. Herbs of any sort barely get a mention. Parsley is the favourite, turning up, on the one hand, within some fairly standard dishes (in minute quantities), and on the other hand, sitting on top of very dainty little offerings that are about fit for Hyacinth Bucket’s candlelight suppers but nothing else. But thyme? Sage? Rosemary? Anything else green, fresh and tasty? Barely a skerrick. Not even dried. It was herbicidal mania, all right.
So here’s to BestRecipes and their eighteen tasty dishes with thyme! We’ve come a very long way, baby!
The English Inheritance
This aversion to herbs seems to be an English trait. Certainly the aversion to the generous use of them is. They’ve typically been allowed to appear in stocks and stuffings (“forcemeat”). In Mrs Beeton’s day you would scarcely have found a recipe for either of these kitchen basics that didn’t include thyme. But it didn’t necessarily feature much by itself, as the main flavouring ingredient of a dish.
Mid-19th Century: Mrs Beeton
So far I’ve collected 32 of Mrs Beeton’s meat recipes and only one mentions thyme specifically (a recipe for “Calf’s Liver Larded and Roasted”), while eight use mixed herbs. These would typically include thyme. But that still comes to just over a quarter of the meat recipes.
How did she use these mixed herbs? They would have been the standard mix that today we’re so up-market we’d probably call a bouquet garni; Isabella just says a “bunch of mixed herbs” or “savoury herbs”. Good on her, her English is a pleasure to read. She typically puts them into the sort of dish we’d still put herbs in today: stewed or braised dishes, and her versions of what is now called “shepherd’s pie” (with lamb) or “cottage pie” (with beef), and “patties” or “rissoles”, using leftover cold meat.
Here’s the more interesting of Isabella’s recipes for cottage pie (number 598):
Baked Beef (Cold Meat Cookery). I.
INGREDIENTS.—About 2 lbs. of cold roast beef, 2 small onions, 1 large carrot or two small ones, 1 turnip, a small bunch of savoury herbs, salt and pepper to taste, 4 tablespoonfuls of gravy, 3 tablespoonfuls of ale, [pastry] crust or mashed potatoes.
Mode.—Cut the beef in slices, allowing a small amount of fat to each slice; place a layer of this in the bottom of a pie-dish, with a portion of the onions, carrots, and turnips, which must be sliced; mince the herbs, strew them over the meat, and season with pepper and salt. Then put another layer of meat, vegetables, and seasoning; and proceed in this manner until all the ingredients are used. Pour in the gravy and ale (water may be substituted for the former, but it is not so nice), cover with a [pastry] crust or mashed potatoes, and bake for 1/2 hour, or rather longer.
Time.—Rather more than 1/2 hour. Average cost, exclusive of the meat, 6d. Sufficient for 5 or 6 persons. Seasonable at any time.
Note.—It is as well to parboil the carrots and turnips before adding them to the meat, and to use some of the liquor in which they were boiled as a substitute for gravy; that is to say, when there is no gravy at hand. Be particular to cut the onions in very thin slices.
Source: Isabella Beeton. The Book of Household Management. [London], S.O. Beeton, 1861.
I do hope that thyme still helps to flavour your cottage pies and shepherd’s pies today—because I can tell you, nothing could be so revolting as Mum’s 1950s’ version, which contained cold minced hogget, moistened with water, and flavoured with a sprinkling of salt and the occasional teaspoonful of tomato sauce, which failed to improve it.
Late 1800s - Mid-1900s: Dainty Morsels
Some of these early recipes are real doozies. No other way to describe them. They’ve got it all. Dainty little offerings daintily trimmed: Hyacinth Bucket would love ’em!
I’ve chosen this first one because not only is it hilarious, it epitomises the contemporary attitude to herbs. It’s a miracle the thyme got in there at all. But dig what he does with the garnish!
Mushroom Sandwiches
Take a pint of fresh button mushrooms, peel them, and throw them into lemon-juice and water, in order to preserve their colour; or else take the contents of a tin of mushrooms, chop them up [i.e. whether fresh or tinned] and stew them in a frying-pan very gently with a little butter, pepper, salt, a pinch of thyme, and the juice of a whole lemon to every pint of mushrooms.
When tender, rub the mixture through a wire sieve while the butter is warm and the mixture moist. Add a teaspoonful of finely chopped blanched parsley, spread this mixture while still warm on a thin slice of bread, and cover it over with another thin slice of bread, and press the two slices of bread together.
When the mixture gets quite cold, the butter will set and the sandwiches get quite firm. The bread need not be buttered, as the mixture contains butter enough. Pile these sandwiches up on a silver dish, surround the dish with plenty of fresh parsley, and place a few fresh mushrooms whole, stalk and all, round them, as if they are growing out of the parsley.
Source: A.G. (Arthur Gay) Payne (1840-1894). Cassell's Vegetarian Cookery: A Manual of Cheap and Wholesome Diet. London, Cassell, 1891
The next is an Australian version of a standard dish from British cuisine:
Beef Olives
One pound [450 g] beefsteak cut thin in small squares, fill with seasoning and sew up.
Seasoning: Bread crumbs, a little dripping, salt, pepper, thyme, and parsley or finely chopped onions. Brown in saucepan with little dripping, add sufficient water to cover and simmer for two hours.
Source: E. Whitelaw, North Norwood, in Green and Gold Cookery Book: Containing Many Good and Proved Recipes. 15th ed. (rev.), Adelaide, R.M. Osborne, [1949?]
Yes, the author does say two hours. They’d have been tender, all right.
The name, by the way, relates to the shape of the small rolls of beef—the dish doesn’t contain olives. “Beef olives” have a long and not necessarily honourable history in British cookery. Mrs Wicken give us an earlier recipe for the colonies in The Art of Living in Australia, by Philip E. Muskett; Together With Three Hundred Australian Cookery Recipes and Accessory Kitchen Information by Mrs. H. Wicken. (London, Eyre and Spottiswoode, [1894]). And they were a favourite with the British Raj, being faithfully presented (though minus the thyme) by the American missionary to India, Mary Kennedy Core, in The Khaki Kook Book: A Collection of a Hundred Cheap and Practical Recipes Mostly from Hindustan. ([New York], Abingdon Press, [1917]).
Beef olives are still around today, and the photo above comes from a modern Australian version, circa 2013, “Beef Olives” by Dixie Elliott, on the taste.com.au website. It’s been jazzed up with semi-dried tomatoes, and basil instead of thyme and parsley. Quite nice, but if you want to serve small quantities of beef there are much tastier ways of cooking it.
Mid-20th Century: English French Food for the Few
For at least the first two decades after the Second World War, the British culinary scene was in the doldrums—rationing went on for years after the War and the economy was still suffering. This wouldn’t have stopped people growing thyme, true. But unless you wanted the really up-market, cordon bleu dishes (that you couldn’t afford) the recipes weren’t around for the home cook. The same was true in the Antipodes, where the New Zealanders were using the Edmonds Cookery Book and the Australians were using the Green and Gold Cookery Book or The Golden Wattle Cookery Book, all three of which faithfully followed the British tradition.
Herbs would have been used in stock by the professional British cooks who followed the French tradition, but apart from that even they seem to have used them quite sparingly. I found a couple of examples from Robin McDouall where he specifically mentions thyme, plus several where he uses a bouquet garni. Thyme appears in his recipe for calf’s liver, “Foie de Veau au Vin Rouge” (yes, he even gives it a French name) and again in this interesting recipe for a cold dish of Mediterranean vegetables which the British public wouldn’t have had a snowflake’s hope in Hell of obtaining at the time! The title’s in French again:
Aubergine à l’Andalouse
* 4 aubergines [eggplants] * 1 pimento [capsicum]
* 2 tomatoes * 1 large onion * 1 clove of garlic
* 2 lemons * paprika * thyme * bayleaf
* olive oil * salt
Peel the aubergines and cut them in round half-inch slices. Sprinkle with salt and leave them for an hour so that some of their natural moisture runs out of them. Fry them gently in olive oil. Take them out, dry them and cover the bottom of a flat fireproof dish with them.
In the oil in which they fried, fry the onion, chopped finely. Add the tomatoes, skinned, de-pipped and chopped, the pimento, finely chopped, a clove of garlic, finely chopped, and the juice of one lemon. Season with salt, paprika, chopped thyme and powdered bayleaf. Cook this till all the ingredients are quite soft and amalgamated.
Make it very hot and pour it over the aubergines and cook them with the sauce bubbling on top of them for another five minutes.
Let them get cold in the dish in which you finished cooking them. When cold, sprinkle finely chopped parsley all over the dish and decorate it with very thin slices of lemon.
Serves: 4.
Source: Robin McDouall. Robin McDouall’s Cookery Book for the Greedy. Harmondsworth, England, Penguin Books in association with Michael Joseph, 1965. (First published as: Collins Pocket Guide to Good Cooking. London, Collins, 1955)
It’s a delicious mixture, but as to why he bothered to publish it in 1955…
By the early 1960s in the Antipodes, Graham Kerr, also working in the French tradition of up-market English kitchens, was doing his best to introduce some idea of real food and real cooking to a New Zealand audience. But he’s still noticeably short on herbs, even though he made parsley his signature tune—it became a running joke in his TV programme, Cooking with Kerr (pronounced “care”: geddit?). Typically of its tradition, his Entertaining with Kerr (first published 1963, Rev. ed. 1966) mentions thyme in such complex dishes as “Coq au vin” and “Frische Ochsenzunge Mit Rosinensauce”.
I never made this version of coq au vin during the 1960s because, as Graham so rightly points out in this very book, chicken was still a delicacy at the time! (Where he imagined a “tender roasting chicken” suitable for 2 people was going to come from beats me.) He has an involved introduction to the recipe, which was meant to encourage blokes to cook the dish for the helpmeet. It wouldn’t have worked: as well as the difficulty of figuring out what on earth he means there’s the fiddly factor: too many steps.
But I did try the other recipe, for hot ox tongue with a raisin sauce. Reading it for the first time was a real shock to the system, because tongue was ALWAYS served cold in the NZ of the 1960s, but as I’ve always loved tongue I gave it a go. Used sultanas instead of raisins, and left out Graham’s currants, which I wouldn’t have used up (they were only obtainable in huge packets, then as now, intended for the oven fanatics with their home-baked fruit-cakes). It became one of my favourite dishes. Still is, but ox tongue is even harder to find in the supermarkets now than it was in the butchers’ shops back then. That is, it was a normal item, but of course each beast has only one tongue, so the butchers never had many in, especially since beef wasn’t eaten nearly as much as hogget or lamb in New Zealand.
Like most offal, tongue in any form is frequently regarded with loathing these days in Australasia, but heck, here it is. I hope there’s somebody out there who’ll love it as much as I do.
Frische Ochsenzunge Mit Rosinensauce
The Tongue:
* 3 lb [1-1/2 kg] ox-tongue - fresh - not pickled;
* 3 medium onions & 3 medium carrots - thickly sliced;
* 1 medium turnip - thickly sliced;
* 1 tsp thyme, 1 bayleaf, 8 black peppercorns, placed in a muslin bag;
* salt
The Sauce:
* 2 oz butter [50 g] * 2 oz [50 g] flour - sifted
* 8 fl oz 250 ml] beef stock * 4 fl oz [125 ml] dry white wine
* 2-1/2 oz [75 g] raisins [or sultanas] * 2-1/2 oz [75 g] currants
* 1 tsp lemon peel - finely sliced
* 1 tsp malt vinegar * 1 lemon - juice, to taste * castor sugar - to taste
Optional extra used as a garnish:
* 1 tbsp almonds - peeled and rough chopped
1. Put the ox-tongue into a large saucepan full of cold fresh water. Soak for 1 hour and then bring to the boil. Pour off the water and refill with cold water.
2. Add the sliced onions, carrots, turnip, bag of herbs and salt.
3. Simmer gently, with lid on, for 3 hours until very tender. Remove the herbs after one hour.
4. Remove tongue and strip off the skin while still hot (this would be excellent value on TV!). Also remove the heavy fat and gristle at the root of the tongue.
5. Slice the tongue lengthways in very fine slices and lay out just over-lapping.
6. The sauce can be made while the tongue is cooking. Make a roux with the flour and butter and cook until fawn coloured. Add the stock, wine, raisins, currants, vinegar and lemon peel.
7. Simmer until the fruit is soft - adjust the flavour balance of sweet and sour with lemon and sugar according to your taste.
SERVICE: Heat the serving dish upon which you laid out the sliced tongue and cover the tongue with the sauce (a sprinkle of chopped almonds adds quite a taste experience). Surround the dish with some very green peas and still crisp part-boiled matchstick-shaped carrots. A mound of fluffy white nutmeg-seasoned creamed potatoes dusted with parsley can be served from another dish.
–Serves 4-6.
Source: Graham Kerr. Entertaining with Kerr. Rev. ed., Wellington, A.H. & A.W. Reed, 1966 (first published 1963)
Perhaps encouraged by the success of Graham Kerr’s books in New Zealand, John Buck published Take a Little Wine in 1969. This light and delicious dish would have been very expensive: asparagus was completely seasonal and very dear, and any fish but shark and snapper was dear, too (if you could even find a decent fish shop). And the wine—which I think he sold, I remember a friend mentioning his shop in Wellington—was most certainly not cheap! The dish is much more affordable today. If you’d like to try it, the imperial measure of 8 fl. oz (fluid ounces) is equivalent to 250 ml., and 1 oz is 25 to 30 g.
Fillets of Sole Jeanette
* 8 fillets of sole * 16 spears asparagus
* 6 fl. oz white wine * 6 fl. oz. milk * 2 fl. oz water
* 1/4 teaspoon thyme * 1 bay leaf
* 1 oz flour * 1 oz butter
* salt * freshly ground black peppercorns
Roll 2 asparagus spears in each fillet and secure with a toothpick. Poach rolls in white wine and water with herbs and seasoning for approx. 8-10 mins.
Melt butter in saucepan; add flour to make a roux. Add milk and cook sauce till it thickens. Add 4 fl.oz. of the poaching liquid, strained. Stir till smooth.
Remove and drain fish rolls. Place on a serving dish and mask with the white sauce.
–Serves 4.
Source: John Buck. Take a Little Wine. [Christchurch], Whitcombe & Tombs, 1969
You can clearly see the influence of the French tradition there!
Branching Out With Thyme: Into the 1970s & ’80s
It wasn’t until the 1970s that there was a real movement towards other sources of culinary inspiration. At that period we were, if only vaguely, becoming aware of vegetarianism, foreign food, and the use of herbs and spices to brighten up our cooking. Gradually these trends began to penetrate the cookbook market. More cookery books began to be published—though for a long time they still lacked the colour illustrations we expect today.
And so we find some deliciously different recipes at last! Gail Duff's Vegetarian Cookbook (1978) exemplifies the trends of the time. She uses a variety of herbs. Here are two of her recipes which specify thyme:
Green Split-Pea and Seville Crumble
* 12 oz [340 g] green split peas
* 1 large Seville orange: juice & 1 tablespoon grated rind
* 2 medium onions, & large clove garlic, all finely chopped
* 2 bay leaves * fresh thyme * 1 teaspoon ground coriander
* 1-1/2 pints [900 ml] water * 2 oz [50 g] butter or margarine
* sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
For topping:
* 8 tablespoons (120 ml) browned crumbs
Put peas into saucepan with water and bay leaves and season well [with pepper only]. Cover, bring to boil and simmer gently 1 hr. Remove bay leaves, [add salt] and beat to a thick puree towards the end.
Preheat oven to 350°F/180°C. Melt 1 oz butter in frying pan on low heat. Stir in onion and garlic and cook till just beginning to brown. Beat all contents of pan into peas together with coriander, thyme, orange rind and juice. Put mixture into deep ovenproof dish and smooth the top.
Press breadcrumbs evenly into the surface and dot with remaining butter or margarine. Bake the crumble 30 mins.
Serve with crispy hot large, croutons and with baked or grilled tomatoes or a tomato salad for contrast.
–Serves 4.
Source: Gail Duff. Gail Duff's Vegetarian Cookbook. London, Macmillan, 1978
Note that when you’re cooking any kind of pulse, dried beans, etc, DON’T add salt at the beginning; but only towards the end of the cooking time, once they’ve started to soften. Otherwise you’ll be boiling them forever and they still won’t soften.
I chose this recipe because it’s unusual to find a recipe for green split peas as opposed to the yellow ones. The Seville oranges are unusual, too: if you’ve never had them, bear in mind that they’re sour oranges. You could substitute sweet orange rind and lemon juice, if you can’t find them: they hardly ever appear in the Australasian shops.
The second recipe with thyme is one of Gail Duff’s best, I think:
Leek and Olive Bake
* 12 oz (350 g) leeks (green and white) * 16 green olives
* 8 eggs * 3 tablespoons cream
* 2 tablespoons mixed chopped thyme and marjoram
* 1 tablespoon grated Parmesan cheese
* 1 oz [25-30 g] butter
* sea salt & freshly ground black pepper
Preheat oven to Reg 6 (400°F/200°C). Grease a flat oven-proof dish with butter.
Thinly slice leeks. Melt 1 oz butter in frying pan on low heat. Stir in leeks and cook till soft. Let them cool a little.
Stone olives and quarter them lengthways.
Beat eggs with cream, cheese, herbs and seasonings, and mix in leeks and olives.
Pour into prepared dish and bake 30 mins or until risen and golden. Serve hot, or let it cool completely and serve cold.
–Serves 4.
Source: Gail Duff. Gail Duff's Vegetarian Cookbook. London, Macmillan, 1978
I prefer this mixture without the Parmesan.
Gail Duff has a lot of recipes for this sort of oven-baked egg dish, or “eggah”, a term which comes from Middle Eastern cuisine:
“An eggah is firm and sound, rather like an egg cake. It is usually an inch or more thick … with a filling of vegetables, or meat, or chicken and noodles… The egg is used as a binding for the filling, rather than the filling being an adornment of the egg. For serving, the eggah is turned out on to a serving dish and cut into slices, as one would cut a cake.” (Claudia Roden. A Book of Middle Eastern Food. Harmondsworth, Penguin, 1970)
By 1980 the Antipodean culinary scene had improved to the extent where three keen cook-gardeners could publish a book called The Cook’s Garden, full of tasty vegetables and herbs. Here’s one of their meat recipes which uses herbs together with the distinctively New Zealand vegetable, variously the kumera or kumara, or sweet potato (Ipomoea batatas). If you don’t know them, they usually have dark purple skins with a cream flesh, often with a purplish-blue stain at the centre, that cooks up to a thick and quite floury consistency—never watery, like some of the orange sweet potatoes.
Frypan Pork And Sweet Potato
This is a “meal in a pan” recipe for cooks with little time.
* 4 pork chops or 8 pork or beef sausages
* 4 medium-sized sweet potatoes [kumaras]
* 1 green pepper [capsicum] * 1 large onion
* 2 1/2 cup diced tomatoes (fresh, frozen or bottled)
* 1/2 tsp chopped thyme * 1/2 tsp chopped marjoram
* 1 tbsp butter * 1 tsp salt * freshly-ground black pepper
Melt the butter in a frying pan with a lid. Brown the chops or sausages. Tip off surplus fat. Peel the sweet potatoes and slice thinly. Arrange over the chops or sausages. Peel the onions and slice finely. Place on top of the sweet potatoes. Cut the pepper in half, remove seeds and slice the flesh thinly. Add to pan. Sprinkle with pepper, salt, thyme and marjoram. Top with tomatoes. Cover pan and cook over a low heat for about 1 hour, until chops and sweet potatoes are tender.
–Serves 4.
Source: Mary Browne, Helen Leach & Nancy Tichborne. The Cook's Garden: For Cooks Who Garden and Gardeners Who Cook. Wellington, [N.Z.], A.H. & A.W. Reed, 1980
Some of us were actually into making our own condiments by the mid-1980s. The following mustard recipe comes from another book which typifies the trends of the time: Carolyn Heal and Michael Allsop. Cooking with Spices. London, Panther Books, 1985 (Originally published: London : David & Charles, 1983). It is a reference book as well as a book of recipes:
Country Mustard
A coarse mustard the ingredients of which can be varied to taste. Makes about 1/2 cup.
* 1 oz black mustard seeds (30 g) *1 oz white mustard seeds (30g)
* 1/4 tsp ajowan [lovage] seeds, bruised, or 1/2 tsp dried thyme
* 1 tsp green peppercorns
* 2 tsp honey (10 ml) *1 tsp sugar, brown
* 4 tbsp wine vinegar (80 ml)
1. Pound the mustard seeds coarsely with a pestle and mortar or use a coffee grinder.
2. Mash the peppercorns and add to the mustard.
3. Add remaining ingredients and leave overnight for the flavour to develop. Store in a cool place.
Yes, I have had a go at this recipe, though I certainly didn’t manage to score any lovage seeds, back then! It makes a lovely mustard.
Modern Thymes: Anything Goes
Thyme is still one of the basics of the bouquet garni in soups, stews and casseroles. When I was looking through my database for recipes that specifically mentioned thyme rather than including it in a bunch of mixed herbs, I was surprised at how few there were. Most of my recipes are English-language, so maybe this reflects the influence of our traditional fare? When I was in France in the mid-1970s, living with French friends, we used thyme a lot. You bought it dried in a bunch, which included the whole little plant, and usually stripped the leaves off to put them in the dish, running your fingers backwards down the stalk from the top. Although these little bunches were dried, they were nothing like the bone-dry, dusty little bits we all too often get today as “dried thyme.” If you buy a fresh bunch and let it dry on the windowsill in the sun, you’ll see the difference. And if you do buy a bunch, try to use some fresh, as well: fresh thyme is wonderfully aromatic.
There are some interesting modern recipes available, however, and I’ve tried to pick out a few more unusual dishes for you.
Source Your Soup Anywhere:
I found the following nice soup recipe, which uses fresh thyme and sage, in an interesting article on the History.com website. It tells you quite a lot about the use of thyme as a medicinal herb. The author writes:
“When the Black Death struck in the late 1340s, millions of people turned to thyme for relief and protection. Many of the day’s medicinal concoctions—from posies worn about the neck to poultices applied directly to plague-blistered skin—included the herb as a major ingredient. Though there was little science to these remedies, one of the chemical compounds found in thyme is a powerful antiseptic. Known as thymol, it’s still widely used today in mouthwash, hand sanitizer and acne medication.
“… Well before the mechanics of infection were fully understood, 19th-century nurses were bathing bandages in a dilution of thyme in water.
“All along, of course, thyme remained one of Europe’s favorite cooking herbs (along with the ever-popular rosemary and sage). Monasteries, which served for hundreds of years as the keepers of medicinal knowledge as well as the art of keeping a good kitchen garden, made frequent use of thyme in their breads, soups and roasts. In the days before refrigeration and food safety laws, including thyme in recipes gave you at least some protection against spoiled meat and foodborne disease.” (Beth Dunn. “A Brief History of Thyme”, History.com, May 10, 2013)
Mushroom-Thyme Soup
The following is adapted from an old Benedictine recipe for mushroom-thyme soup.
* 8 ounces [300 g] cremini mushrooms, thinly sliced
* 4 ounces [150 g] shiitake mushrooms, stems removed, caps thinly sliced
* 1 clove garlic, minced * 2 medium shallots, finely chopped;
* 2 tbsp fresh thyme, finely chopped * 1 tbsp fresh sage, finely chopped
* 6 cups vegetable stock * 1 tbsp olive oil * salt, pepper
Sauté the garlic and shallot in the olive oil over low heat until the shallots are translucent. Add the mushrooms, thyme and sage, and stir together over low heat for about 1 minute. Add the vegetable stock. Bring to a rolling boil and then reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 15 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste.
Serves: 4.
Source: Beth Dunn. “A Brief History of Thyme”, History.com, May 10, 2013)
Salad Thyme:
Thyme doesn’t crop up in salad recipes very often. This one for a bean salad appeals to me: use any mild dried beans, as you probably won’t source the delicate-tasting flageolet bean. (“Introducing Flageolet beans”, University of Melbourne. Multilingual Multiscript Plant Name Database).
Flageolet Salad with Lemon, Radishes,
and Oven-Roasted Tomatoes
A vegan salad to be enjoyed on its own or served with traditional Easter dishes. ... One pound of dry beans yields about six cups of cooked. Make them a day ahead so they can cool and you’ll have one more thing done the day you serve them.
* 6 cups cooked flageolet beans (from one pound [450 g] dried);
* 12 ounces [350 g] cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
* 1 medium red onion, chopped fine
* 1 bunch radishes, cleaned & sliced thin with a mandolin or vegetable peeler
* 1 bunch Italian [flat-leaf] parsley, chopped fine
* 5 sprigs thyme, leaves stripped from stems
* 1-1/2 lemons for juicing
* olive oil * salt, pepper
Heat the oven to 250F [120C]. Arrange the tomatoes, cut side up, on an ungreased baking tray. Add the thyme leaves to the tomatoes, along with a little salt. Add the stems and any leftover thyme and then drizzle a light dose of olive oil over the tomatoes. Cook for about an hour until the tomatoes are slightly shriveled but not dry. Allow to cool and then roughly chop them.
Toss the beans with the tomatoes, onion, parsley, and olive oil. Add the juice of one lemon and check for tartness. It should be very lemony. Add more lemon juice as needed.
Salt and pepper to taste. Just before serving, add the radish slices and more parsley, if desired. Optionally, you can garnish with a lemon slice.
Make sure you use lots of lemon juice.
Source: Steve Sando. Experiments in my New World Kitchen and Garden (The Rancho Gordo Blog), April 23, 2019)
Thyme for Chicken:
I followed the TV series Spice Trip (originally from Britain’s Channel 4) with great interest. I think this recipe, which I got off the Channel 4 website, featured in the Grenada episode on nutmeg. It was part of a set of 3 recipes, under the title “Nutmeg Roast Chicken with Squash and Spinach”:
Nutmeg Roast Chicken
* 1 x 1.5 kg chicken, deboned [OR simply split & flattened]
* 1 lemon, halved horizontally
* 2 onions, sliced into rings * 1 head of garlic, halved horizontally
* 1/2 bunch of thyme * 1/2 nutmeg, freshly grated
* olive oil, for drizzling
* sea salt & freshly ground black pepper
1. Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F. Season the chicken on both sides, and generously grate over the nutmeg. Place a large frying pan over a medium-high heat and add a drizzle of oil. Once nice and hot, add the chicken, skin-side down. Cook for a few minutes until the skin is golden and crisp. Remove from the heat and grate over a little more nutmeg if you want.
2. In a roasting tin, spread the onions, garlic and lemon halves in a single layer and scatter over the thyme sprigs. Place the chicken, skin-side up over the onion layer. Bake for 25–30 minutes until the flesh is cooked through (test by inserting a skewer into the flesh; if the juices run clear, the chicken is cooked). Cover and leave to rest.
[To serve]: Remove the chicken from its tin, reserving the roasted onions and the resting juices. Slice the chicken, then pour over the resting juices. Finish off with a drizzle of yoghurt.
Source: Stevie Parle and Emma Grazette. “Spice Trip” (website dead link); cf the book of the series: Stevie Parle and Emma Grazette. Spice Trip. London, Square Peg, 2012
Thyme for Pork:
The New Zealander “Huey” (Ian Hewittson) ran a very popular TV cooking show in Australia for some years, with the recipes posted on his website. I always find his recipes interesting, because of their combination of New Zealand, Australian, and cordon bleu influences with more exotic foreign ideas and ingredients.
Here he uses parsnips, which traditionally only turned up on NZ dinner tables with a big roast dinner. Usually they’d be home-grown: when I was very little and we lived in Wellington, Dad actually did some gardening—this may surprise my younger siblings, who’ll remember him as scarcely setting foot outside except to mow the lawn and put the dustbin out—but yes, he gardened, and his horticultural triumph was his huge, flourishing parsnips. Unfortunately there was only him, Mum and very little me to eat them, and how many kids under 5 like that aniseed taste? Maybe that was why he never tried again after we moved to Auckland in late 1949.
Baked Pork Chops with Parsnips, Honey & Ginger
* 4 x 250 gm pork chops, rind removed
* 2 large parsnips, cut into chunks * 2 onions, halved & thickly sliced
* 1/4 cup good quality honey
* grated rind of 1/2 orange * juice of 1 orange
* 2 teaspoons ground ginger * 4 fresh thyme sprigs
* olive oil * a knob of butter [about 3 tsp]
* sea salt & freshly ground pepper
Preheat oven to 180°C fan forced (200°C normal).
Heat a thin layer of oil with the butter in a heavy-bottomed casserole dish (or oven dish) and brown the seasoned chops all over for about 2-3 mins each side. Remove. Then add the parsnips and onions to the dish. Toss well and briefly cook.
Combine the orange zest and juice with the honey, ground ginger and thyme. Then pour about two-thirds of this mixture over the vegies, season well and toss. Cover and cook in the oven for 30-45 mins until the vegies are fairly tender.
When ready, return the chops to the casserole in one layer, with any juices. Pour over the remaining orange mixture and cook in the oven for about another 30 mins, turning the pork once.
Serves: 4
Source: “Olive” magazine, in Huey's Kitchen; (no longer on website)
Thyme for Vegetables:
The next recipe is sourced from a big American online culinary database:
Glazed Red Pearl Onions
We know they’re a pain to peel, but we promise that these jewellike pearl onions are worth it. Cooked until just tender, they make a dazzling addition to the meal.
* 2-1/2 lb fresh red pearl onions
* 3/4 cup apple juice * 3/4 cup reduced-salt chicken stock
* 2 sprigs fresh thyme;
* 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
* 1/2 teaspoon salt * 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Garnish:
* fresh thyme leaves for sprinkling
Blanch [unpeeled] pearl onions in a 6- to 8-quart [approx. 7 to 9-1/2 litre] pot of boiling water 1 minute, then drain in a colander. When onions are cool enough to handle, peel.
Cook onions with remaining ingredients, covered, in a 12-inch heavy skillet over moderately low heat, shaking pan occasionally, until onions are tender and glazed and most of liquid is evaporated, about 45 minutes. Discard thyme.
Cooks’ notes: Onions can be blanched and peeled (but not cooked) 2 days ahead and chilled, covered.
Serves: 8
Source: Epicurious.com, https://www.epicurious.com/recipes-menus
Here’s the sort of easy, quick dish my French friend Gégé would do, which really highlights the thyme. I often do it these days. Try it with fresh thyme: wonderful!
Fried Potatoes with Thyme
Use small, waxy potatoes for this. Choose a pan that will just take the potato pieces in one layer.
* 350 g (approx) small or “baby” potatoes
* 1/2 to 1 tsp thyme leaves;
* 2 tbsp olive oil
* salt & freshly ground black pepper
Optional:
* 2 cloves garlic, grated, or 1/2 tsp garlic paste
1. Wash and dry the potatoes, and chop them into small pieces, about 2 cm across.
2. Heat an electric frypan or lidded frying pan on medium-high heat and add the potatoes, garlic and thyme. Season to taste with salt & pepper. Stir well and close the lid.
3. Check after 10 minutes. The potatoes should be well browned on one side. Stir gently to turn the pieces. Turn the heat down to medium and cook for a further 2-3 mins. Test with a fork. If they are not soft, they need a little more cooking.
4. Serve hot.
Note: because the pieces are small they should cook quite quickly, especially if you use baby (new) potatoes. Closing the lid keeps the steam in, and this helps to cook them through.
Serves: 2.
That’s it for the time being! (Sorry—irresistible.) Hope you found some inspiration in this mixed bag. Let’s be thankful that herbs, fresh or dried, including thyme, are now so readily available, and we’re no longer at the mercy of the British tradition of herbicidal mania—which could be summed up as: if it’s green, ignore it.
