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Yotam Ottolenghi’s garnalenkroketten (prawn croquettes).
Yotam Ottolenghi’s garnalenkroketten (prawn croquettes). Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay
Yotam Ottolenghi’s garnalenkroketten (prawn croquettes). Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

Yotam Ottolenghi’s croquette recipes

I love a deep-fried croquette. Here are my favourites, a Dutch prawn number and a spinach, pea and cheese version

I lived in Holland for a short time in the 1990s, and acquired just enough Dutch to get by, but no more. These days, it’s so rusty that I wouldn’t dare utter a single word, but its similarities with English have always given me confidence when it comes to reading the language.

This was put to the test a couple of years ago when I visited Patisserie Holtkamp in Amsterdam, which is perhaps best known for its brilliant croquettes. Now, anyone who even half knows me will tell you how much I love a croquette, but on this occasion I didn’t have time to try a cooked one. Instead, I bought a few frozen prawn croquettes, my absolute favourites, to take home.

Back in London, I put my prized delights in a hot oven – yes, I know croquettes are normally fried, but the packet clearly stated “bakken”, so I couldn’t imagine anything could go wrong. You can probably guess where this is heading: my croquettes burst and collapsed in much the same way as my self-assurance in Dutch, leaving behind an inedible pink and yellow mess.

My subsequent realisation that “bakken” means fried as well as baked, and the knowledge that I could recreate Holtkamp’s scrumptious croquettes at home by following a recipe in its book translated for me by a proper speaker, has, eventually, restored my confidence in the old croquette, if not in my Dutch.

Garnalenkroketten (prawn croquettes)

This recipe, which is based on Holtkamp’s, is quite long, and it makes a lot, but croquettes freeze really well: make them up to the point when you coat them in breadcrumbs, then freeze, ready to thaw and fry as required. Serve with a simple green salad with a sharp, lemony dressing, or as a snack with some lemony mayo or mustard. Makes 16 croquettes, enough to serve eight as a first course.

110g unsalted butter
3 shallots, peeled and finely chopped
700g raw tiger prawns, shell on
120g plain flour
250ml whole milk
4 sheets (or 6g) fine-leaf gelatine (I use the Costa brand), soaked in cold water
4 eggs, separated: you need all 4 whites and 2 of the yolks; use the remaining yolks in a mayo, custard or pasta
50ml double cream
⅛ tsp cayenne pepper
2 drops Tabasco
10g parsley leaves, finely chopped
10g tarragon leaves, finely chopped
Salt and ground white pepper
200g panko breadcrumbs, half of them finely blitzed in a food processor
About 400ml sunflower oil, for frying
2 lemons, cut into wedges, to serve

On a medium-high heat, melt 30g butter in a large saucepan for which you have a lid, then fry the shallots for two to three minutes, until golden brown. Add the prawns, fry for a minute, then pour over 300ml just-boiled water. Cover and cook for two minutes, until the prawns are just cooked, then strain the liquid into a bowl, pressing down on the prawns with a back of a spoon or ladle to extract as much flavour as possible: you should end up with about 340ml of prawn stock.

Leave the cooked prawns to cool a little, then peel and devein them. Discard the prawn skins and the shallots, and chop the flesh into roughly 0.5cm pieces.

Put the remaining 80g butter in a medium saucepan on a medium heat and, once it starts to foam, stir in 110g flour and cook for three minutes, stirring constantly. Add the prawn stock bit by bit, until combined, then add the milk, also in instalments. Turn the heat to medium-low and cook the sauce for eight minutes, stirring, until it’s thick and shiny.

Squeeze the water out of the soaking gelatine leaves, add them to the bechamel, then take the pan off the heat and stir to dissolve. Stir in the egg yolks, cream, cayenne, Tabasco, herbs and chopped prawns, and add an eighth of a teaspoon of white pepper and three-quarters of a teaspoon of salt, then leave to cool.

Using two dessert spoons, divide the bechamel mix into 60g portions, and place on two plates lined with greaseproof paper. Refrigerate for at least an hour, to firm up, then wet your hands (this stops the mix sticking to them) and roll each portion into a 3cm-wide x 7cm-long sausage. Refrigerate again while you prepare the coating.

In a small bowl, gently whisk the remaining flour into the egg whites. Put the fine panko in a second bowl and the unblitzed panko in a third. Roll one prawn sausage first in the fine panko, then in the egg white and then in the coarse panko, making sure it’s properly coated with each layer, and put on a tray lined with baking paper. Repeat with the remaining sausages.

Heat the oil in a medium saucepan on a medium flame. To check it’s at the right temperature, drop a pinch of panko into the pan: the oil is ready if it turns golden-brown within 10 seconds (if you have a thermometer, you’re looking to get the oil to 180C). Fry a few croquettes at a time – don’t overcrowd the pan – for a total of three minutes, turning them once halfway (be gentle), until crisp and golden brown all over. Using a slotted spoon, transfer to a wire rack lined with kitchen paper, to absorb any excess oil, sprinkle with a pinch of salt and repeat with the remaining croquettes. Serve hot with lemon wedges alongside.

Spinach, pea and pancetta croquettes

Yotam Ottolenghi’s spinach, pea and pancetta croquettes. Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

These light, vibrantly green and slightly cheesy numbers are hard to resist, even if I say so myself. Makes 16.

300g baby spinach leaves
Salt and black pepper
60g unsalted butter
250g diced smoked pancetta
60g plain flour, plus 50g to coat
250ml whole milk
300g frozen peas, defrosted
100g mature cheddar, coarsely grated
30g basil leaves, roughly chopped
2 eggs, whisked
90g panko breadcrumbs
500ml sunflower oil, to fry
1 lemon, cut into wedges, to serve

Put the spinach, a quarter-teaspoon of salt and a tablespoon of water in a large saucepan on a high heat, and cook for three minutes, stirring constantly, until the spinach has wilted down. Drain into a colander, then, when the spinach is cool enough to handle, squeeze out as much of the remaining liquid as possible: you should end up with about 130g cooked spinach. Chop this roughly, then set aside.

Put the empty spinach pan back on the heat, this time on high, add 20g butter and the pancetta, and fry for three minutes, stirring occasionally to stop it catching and burning, until the bacon is golden brown. Transfer the pancetta to a small plate with a slotted spoon, then stir the remaining butter into the pan with 60g flour, a third of a teaspoon of salt and a generous grind of black pepper.

Turn down the heat to low, leave the roux to cook gently for five minutes, stirring occasionally, then gradually stir in the milk bit by bit, until you have a thick paste. Cook, stirring regularly, for eight to 10 minutes, until the flour is cooked out completely, then take the pan off the heat. The bechamel will at this point be fairly solid.

Put half the peas in a food processor and pulse them a few times roughly to break them up. Stir these into the bechamel mix with the whole peas, cheddar, basil, spinach and pancetta. Using two dessert spoons, divide the mixture into 16 roughly 60g portions, and put them on two plates lined with greaseproof paper. Refrigerate for at least an hour, to firm up.

Put the remaining 50g flour in a medium bowl, the eggs in a second bowl and the panko in a third.

Using your hands (wet them first, so the mix won’t stick to them), shape each chilled bechamel portion into a 3cm-wide x 9cm-long sausage. One by one, roll the sausages first in the flour, then in the egg and finally in the breadcrumbs, making sure they get properly covered at each stage of the coating; it’s best to rinse your hands after shaping each croquette, to keep things neat and tidy.

Heat the oil in a medium saucepan on a medium-high flame. Test it’s at the right temperature by dropping in a pinch of panko: if it turns golden-brown within 10 seconds, you are ready to fry (if you have a thermometer, you’re looking to get the oil to 180C). Once the oil is hot enough, carefully drop in two or three croquettes at a time (do not be tempted to try more, because they’ll cool the oil down too much) and fry for two to three minutes in total, turning them once halfway, until crisp and golden brown all over.

Use a slotted spoon to transfer the cooked croquettes to a plate lined with kitchen paper, sprinkle with salt and keep warm in a low oven while you cook the remaining croquettes. Serve hot, with a lemon wedge alongside.

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