The glory of the gratin

A no-nonsense feast to gird the belly and quicken the heart, the gratin–whether it be slathered over meat, fish or vegetables–is all about an indulgent excess of cream topped by crispy cheese, says Tom Parker Bowles

- Tom Parker Bowles

THERE’S nothing subtle about the gratin, no elegant nuance or finely tuned technique. It has scant regard for parsimony, restraint or moderation and plays little heed to the dreary strictures of calorie control. Because this is a dish that is all about excess, of cream, cheese, crunch and delight. Simplicity, too—a no-nonsense feast to gird the belly and quicken the heart. It soothes and seduces, cossets and calms, the very quintessence of winter delight.

The key to any proper gratin is, of course, that crisp top. Originally, the term referred to the burnt, often delectable part of a cooked dish that was left behind in the pot and had to be scraped (gratéed) off. Similar to the socarrat at the base of a paella, all chewy, toasted cara- melised joy. But, by the 19th century, its meaning had evolved from by-product to main event, as the term (both noun and verb) described any dish dwelling beneath a crust of cheese, breadcrumbs, or, well, nothing at all.