The best word for a starter, Delia says, “is ‘appetiser’ – something that arouses the appetite”. Delia thinks this accurately describes what a first course should be: something that draws you into “the fullest pleasure of eating”.
This is true. But there’s another purpose to the starter that Delia doesn’t mention, but that, I think we can all agree, is very much part and parcel of the whole package: the social power play. Show me a household where they eat a starter when they aren’t having company and I’ll show you a household with far too much time on their hands.
The reality is if you are making a starter, you are doing it partly to provide a decent meal, and partly as an expression of culinary dominance over your guests. “It was lovely,” you want your guests to tell your mutual friends, “and you’ll never guess what? Stephen made potted crab.”
Ideally, the perfect starter is a) a bit posh; b) delicious; and, crucially, c) easy. For double points, it should use a limited amount of counter space and be something you can prepare in parallel with the main course and dessert.
So how does Delia’s chicken liver pâté stack up? Well, obviously, it’s a bit posh as it’s got not one but two funny symbols on top of the letters. And it calls on you to slosh cognac in there as well, which only adds to the poshness. (Although, after experimentation, for my money, the recipe works better without the brandy. If you really want to add booze to your pâté, you’re better off with port, not least because it does a better job of masking the smell of the liver, which will be slightly more powerful in a homemade pâté than anything you buy ready-made.)
Is Delia’s pâté delicious? Yes, provided you don’t do what I did on the first go and forget to add any salt. Happily, however, should you do the same, you can get the same flavour with a light sprinkling of some of the fancy-looking flaky stuff.
Less delicious is the accompaniment: Delia’s sweet-and-sour red onion salad. Delia’s salads, I am convinced, are designed to put the nervous cook at ease, because nothing you could make would be as nasty as the average Delia salad. It’s odder still, because Delia opens her guide to the art of a starter with some very good fundamental rules for salad-making that she then proceeds to junk in her recipes.
Delia’s onion salad, should you want to make it yourself, involves red onions, olive oil, brown sugar, red wine vinegar and wholegrain mustard. It reminds me of the kind of meal I would eat when I had no money and would consequently be forced to combine whatever leftovers I had on one plate and eat them.
Instead, I pair my pâté with Delia’s brown bread; the flavours go well together and it only adds to the sense of superiority you get when you serve it. (Practise now: big smile and ... “Oh, the bread? Yes, that’s homemade, too.”)
And the best part of all? It’s really, incredibly easy – a few minutes in the frying pan, a few seconds in the blender, an hour and a half in the fridge. So there you have it: quick, easy, delicious and perfectly designed to put one over on the Joneses. Appetising indeed.
- Stephen Bush is cooking his way through Delia’s Complete How To Cook (BBC Books, £40) in a year. You can watch Delia Smith’s free Online Cookery Schoolvideos at deliaonline.com; @deliaonline.
- Stephen Bush is a writer and columnist for the New Statesman; @stephenkb
