Easy Toad in the Hole with Onions
The alternate #newyearnewme
Happy New Year my dear reader! Or should I say, happy second week of January! The start of 2024 has already sprinted by, whipping my hair in the slipstream. Picture me lying face down on the floor in response.
[Before we devour a dish of toad in the hole together, first some housekeeping: starting next week, every middle Monday of the month, I will send a monthly round up to my paid subscribers because they deserve more content. This will include recipes I’ve tried and loved (or hated which is far more juicy), what I’m reading, funny anecdotes from Toulouse, photos, you name it. Every month there will be something different - this first issue will share the details from my first French Christmas so if you’re curious please consider upgrading!]
#newyearnewme started with toad in the hole, a pending deadline, and frenzied window cleaning – after all, ‘urgent deadline’ is my middle name and how much do we really change at the stroke of midnight on the 1st January? The window cleaning was new though and two years late, so I will take it happily, along with the toad in the hole.
And actually, that window cleaning was probably my favourite way to spend New Year’s Day – period. Before you start grimacing in worry for my lack of a social life/sanity, hear me out: my friends Suzie and Tony can testify to the attempts we’ve made to ring in the new year in celebratory style. There was that night out in London when we left our barely-affordable accommodation in Harrow a little too late and spent midnight on the tube; that time in a friend’s bath; a night out when my friend was having such a rubbish time she breathalised herself to drive home; and of course, last year’s ABBA tribute night with one too many men in silk shirts.
All those subsequent New Year’s Days revolved around hangovers, possibly residual drunkenness, and painful, crawling journeys back home. None of that fresh, lung-cleansing cold I always dream of to start the new year. Instead, I regret all my life’s decisions and lurch into the new year with a headache.
This year though, the start of 2024, arrived like a soothing rub to the shoulders. I took a bath. I washed my hair. I cleaned the windows in a literal wiping away of fog to see in the change in date. Start 2024 with a home to reflect your intentions. As they say.
I say that but all I want to do to my stubborn apartment is tuck it over my knee and give it a good spanking with a wooden spoon. The temperature inside is that of a fridge. Three layers, slippers and blankets are our indoor uniform. So while this flat certainly doesn’t reflect our intentions for the year, it is giving us the motivation to take action and finally move. And in the meantime, until a flat that doesn’t look like a) a students’ harem or b) a mortuary appears online, we will spend our winter eating toad in the hole. We need the warmth and the comfort.
Toad in the hole… with onions
Toad in the hole tastes of January. While the weather brings us little cheer, our plates do the job instead and arrive at the table groaning under the weight of stodge. Bangers and mash, shepherd’s pie, macaroni cheese, then sticky toffee puddings for dessert… our fingers may turn slowly blue but our tummies are purring in contentment.
Toad in the hole is the old boy in the winter dinner crew. It’s the guy propping up the bar that is the weekly menu tacked to the fridge door, all gnarled batter climbing the side of the baking dish and dark crinkled sausages. Add crisped curly onion petals and you have yourself the grumpy incarnation of the toad the dish is named after. Apparently, toads would lie in wait for their prey concealed in shallow holes, just their glaring eyes visible. Another legend suggests toad in the hole was named after a game of golf when a ball leapt out of its hole and a glowering toad emerged in its wake, disturbed from its resting spot.
And much like that golfing green, the Yorkshire pudding batter is the perfect cushiony blanket of concealment. Sprigs of rosemary, chunks of bacon, Jamie Oliver adds what looks like an entire roast dinner to his recipe – all kinds of goodies can be hidden away amongst the sausages. In this case, I have added wedges of red onion, the lazy option instead of knocking up an onion gravy. If onion gravy is just not on the agenda on a cold January night, then toad in the hole with onions (and gravy from Bisto granules) is the easy substitute.
Gaylord and I welcomed in the new year with clean windows, a cold flat so uninviting I worked from beneath the protection of the duvet, and a dish of toad in the hole, sausages splitting their skins, a pile of buttery mashed potato and some gravy I’d made too early so it was a little set and stodgy, but still soaked into that mash just so. After all, we aim for perfection every new year, but toad in the hole and lumpy gravy is often just right.
Toad in the Hole with Onions
Add slices of red onions to your toad in the hole batter for that perfect touch of crunchy texture – and for those lazy nights when onion gravy is a distant dream.
Feel free to add rosemary or thyme sprigs to the batter too.
Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook Time: 35 minutes
Course: Baking, Dinner, Lunch, Main Course
Cuisine: British
Keyword: batter, red onion, sausages, toad in the hole
Servings: 2
Author: Adapted from Nathan Outlaw’s recipe
Ingredients
6 pork sausages
2 tbsp neutral-flavoured oil sunflower, vegetable, rapeseed
90 g plain flour
2 eggs
75 ml milk
75 ml water
1 red onion
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
Preheat the oven to 200°C/180°C fan/400°F. Place the sausages in a baking dish (around 20cm wide) along with 1 tbsp of the oil. When the oven is hot, place the dish in the oven and cook the sausages for 5 minutes to give them a little colour.
Meanwhile mix the toad in the hole batter. In a mixing bowl, combine the flour and the eggs, beating thoroughly with a wooden spoon to ensure there are no lumps. Slowly add the milk and water, whisking continuously. Season with salt and pepper and add the remaining tbsp of oil then stir to combine.
Chop the red onion into wedges and separate some of the layers.
Remove the baking dish from the oven, turn the sausages, add the onion wedges, and pour over the batter. Return the dish to the oven and bake for 30-35 minutes, until the batter is well-risen and golden. If you'd like the top to be evenly browned, turn on the grill for the last 5 minutes of cooking. Serve with mashed potato and lots of gravy for cold nights.