How to make Southern fried chicken – recipe | Felicity Cloake's Masterclass

Let’s be honest, fried chicken is one of those things that’s almost always good, but making it yourself has the benefit of allowing you to be sure of the provenance of the meat. Where fast-food restaurants tend to rely on pressure fryers for a juicy result, at home I brine the meat first using buttermilk – its slight acidity will also have a tenderising effect. Double win.Prep 5 min Marinate 4 hr+Cook 40 min Serves 2-3300ml buttermilk (see step 1)2¼ tsp salt 6 pieces of chicken of your choice – I like a mixture of drumsticks and thighs110g plain flour 40g cornflour, or rice or potato flour (see step 4)½ tsp freshly ground black pepper ½ tsp smoked paprika ¼ tsp MSG (optional)Neutral oil (vegetable, sunflower, groundnut or lard), for fryingButtermilk is the ideal consistency for this, but if you can’t get hold of any, instead whisk a little water into natural yoghurt to make it pourable. Put 275ml in a container large enough to hold all the meat, then stir in two teaspoons of salt – this improves the chicken’s ability to hold on to moisture, giving a juicier texture

Simpson’s-in-the-Strand, London WC2: ‘A rollicking list of cosy British joys’ – restaurant review | Grace Dent on restaurants

The British may not have the most sophisticated palates, but we are adorable in our culinary urgesAs we sit awaiting the beef rib trolley in the Grand Divan dining room at the whoppingly sized Simpson’s-in-the-Strand, we fizz with ideas of how to describe its wildly unfettered quaintness. “It’s all a bit Hogwarts, isn’t it?” I say to my friend Hugh.He’s been four times already, but then, Simpson’s is that kind of place: a handy-as-heck, posh canteen a short stroll from Covent Garden. There’s a twinkly, ye olde cocktail bar upstairs as well as Romano’s with its more European-style menu. But, for now, let’s concentrate on the Grand Divan

Benjamina Ebuehi’s sweet and salty chocolate chip cookies recipe | The sweet spot

Everyone has different ideas on what makes the perfect chocolate chip cookie, with everything from thickness and chewiness to the amount of chocolate up for debate. In my opinion, no cookie is worth eating if it’s not well salted; without it, everything feels a little off balance and flat. My not-so-secret way of salting cookies is to use a bit of miso. Not so much that it becomes a miso cookie, but just enough to bring a slightly savoury, umami vibe that makes the cookies a bit more complex-tasting and not sickly sweet.Prep 5 min Cook 30 min Chill 3 hr+ Makes 12100g unsalted butter, softened 110g dark brown sugar 110g caster sugar 35g white miso paste 1 large egg 220g plain flour ½ tsp baking powder ½ tsp bicarbonate of soda 100g milk chocolate, roughly chopped100g dark chocolate, roughly choppedPut the butter and both sugars in a large bowl and beat for two to three minutes until creamy, scraping down the sides of the bowl often

Gentleman’s Relish is toast after its maker axes the pungent anchovy spread

Fans of traditional British cuisine were heartbroken by news that Gentleman’s Relish was being discontinued by its manufacturer.But Jeremy King, who last month reopened Simpson’s in the Strand, has instructed his chef to create a version of the pungent anchovy-based condiment almost identical to the real thing for the 198-year-old London restaurant.King, who has run famed establishments including the Ivy, the Wolseley and Le Caprice, told the Guardian: “We actually make our own, due to the difficulty in obtaining, so are able to continue to serve it.”Simpson’s, which offers traditional fare including spotted dick and roast beef carved on a silver trolley, serves the relish on toast for £6.50

Cream sherry: a forgotten taste that’s worth rediscovering

By the time I knew her, my granny was in her whisky and water era, but my dad clearly remembers a bottle of Harveys Bristol Cream in the drinks cupboard, ready to pour for friends after church in the 1970s. This is the enduring image of cream sherry, one that it has struggled to shake off. While other sherries – bone-dry fino and manzanilla (made by ageing palomino grapes under a yeast layer called flor), oxidative amontillado or oloroso, and sweet, single varietals such as pedro ximénez (PX) – have acquired new cachet among younger drinkers, not least because they’re relatively affordable, cream is the emblematic Little English tipple of a bygone time.The Guardian’s journalism is independent. We will earn a commission if you buy something through an affiliate link

From soups and greens to roots, how to survive the ‘hungry gap’

Spring may have firmly sprung – I write this with a view of vivid yellow forsythia blossom in next door’s garden, and the melodious warble of full-throated birdsong – but though the greenery may be flourishing in our gardens, it’s a different story at the farmers’ market. Despite a few spindly spears of asparagus and miniature jersey royals making an appearance on our Easter tables last weekend, the new season of British produce doesn’t kick off in earnest for another few weeks yet. That means we’re now heading into the so-called “hungry gap”, an annual quirk of our relatively northern latitude, when temperatures are too high for much winter veg such as kale and brassicas, but too low for the more delicate likes of peas and broad beans to ripen – let alone high-summer treats such as berries, squash and stone fruit.Happily, many hardy winter crops store well, and are versatile enough to shake off their heavy winter coat of cream and butter in favour of a lighter treatment. The late Skye Gyngell gifted us a carrot, celery, farro and borlotti bean soup, Nigel Slater has an early spring laksa with purple sprouting broccoli (and some spinach, which I suspect you could use frozen), and Nicholas Balfe offers a ceviche with celeriac and a baked beetroot dish (pictured top) – both of which look just the thing to wake up your taste buds