Mountain Flames and Earthly Bites: A Summit Story
Descending the scree of La Canaleta after a long, cold summit day on Aconcagua I could have sworn I caught the scent of meat roasting on an open fire coming from a lower camp. It was, in all probability, a combination of mild altitude sickness, the longing for a really good steak, and the recent memory of such a dish earlier that month in an Mendocino restaurant when I got served with what seemed like half a cow when the steak flopped over both sides of my plate. This monster of a dish was only accompanied by a bowl of chimichurri sauce and rock salt, but Dios Mio! the flavour was amazing. Intense almost creamy, smoky, lightly charred yet tender, it stuck with me for the duration on the climb.
Contrast that with the summer past in Ireland and the UK as we saw a record number of barbecues which resulted in many a dicky stomach and a dodgy shade of lobster red on us fair skinned Celts and Anglo Saxons as we used every opportunity to resurrect our oft neglected grills. Here cooking on open fire is often a spur of the moment decision as we rush to beat the arrival of wind and rain. Unfortunately this tends to result in burnt sausages which are bizarrely raw on the inside. Yet grilling tasty food doesn’t require a huge amount of forward planning, and if you learn a few simple tricks about using fire properly you can turn out dishes like the one below even if it’s howling outside.
The main point to remember when cooking over an open fire is NEVER let the flames touch the meat until the last minute of cooking and even then it’s only for the charred look. You’re using the radiated heat and the smoke to do the cooking and flavouring.
The inspiration behind this recipe was the memory of an aisle full of blue, green, striped and bright red squashes in Mendoza and the smell of a spatchcocked chicken roasting on a roadside asador near Los Penitentes.
Ingredients (serves 2)
