Sausage Recipes

Cassoulet with Toulouse Sausage, Beans & Bacon

On offer here is a cassoulet recipe, a dish of porky delight where the beans act as a sponge for those flavours and pork fat – the smoke of the bacon and the garlic of the Toulouse sausage shining through. A dish that delivers both flavour and comfort in one.

Cassoulet is a dish of rare significance, known throughout the world and synonymous with one of the most famous and revered cuisines. French provincial cooking has long been held up as a beacon for all that is great about food. The essence of convivial dining – generous feasts of simple rustic fare, cooked with perfectly ripe, locally grown and reared ingredients.

It is the scene that both restaurants and households in this country have been trying to replicate for decades. While this recipe has veered off course from the classic cassoulet (due to a lack of confit goose or duck leg), it takes its inspiration from the original.

Serves: 3-4

Cook time: 1 hour 45 minutes

Ingredients

Method

  1. Drain the beans and tip into a pan. Add 600ml of the stock, 5 cloves of garlic, 2 bay leaves, and the green tops of the leeks. Bring the pan up to the boil, reduce the heat and simmer gently for 35-45 minutes. Place a cartouche over the beans to prevent too much liquid evaporating.
  2. Preheat your oven to 180°C.
  3. Separately, add a tablespoon of duck fat to a shallow, heavy-bottomed casserole dish. Once the fat is hot, place the sausages in the pan and brown them off. Then remove from the pan and set aside.
  4. To the pan, add the carrot, onion, and leeks. Season with sea salt and black pepper and cook on a gentle heat, stirring regularly for 10-minutes.
  5. Slice the remaining garlic cloves and then add them to the pan. Cook for 5-minutes.
  6. Tie the thyme and bay leaves with a piece of string. Add this to the pan, along with the tomato purée. Cook for 5-minutes, remembering to keep stirring.
  7. The beans should be fairly tender by now and only in a little stock. Pick out the leek tops and then tip the beans and their liquid into the pan with the vegetables, followed by the white wine and bring up to the boil. Stir well to make sure everything is well incorporated.
  8. Check for seasoning and adjust as necessary. A warning here, the smoked belly has a natural saltiness, so err on the side of caution with the salt.
  9. Also, at this stage, you need to check the liquid levels and add a little more stock if needed. The final dish doesn’t want to be at all ‘soupy’, but neither completely dry.
  10. Nestle the bacon pieces and the sausages into the beans and then sprinkle over the breadcrumbs. Drizzle a little olive oil over the whole thing and place in the oven for 25-30 minutes.

Order meat online

Instagram

  • It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. 

Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. 

It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. 

Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx

Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
  • We have all seen the videos. A chicken arrives. Five neat strokes of a knife. It falls apart as if by magic. That comes from thirty years at the block. Most of us do not have that.

So here is a slightly more Radio 4 approach.

A calm, sensible way to take a good chicken and break it down at home. Nothing flashy. Just understanding the joints, working with the bone, and giving each part the respect it deserves. When you do that, you open up a week (almost) of meals. Breasts cooked one way. Legs another. A carcass that becomes stock rather than waste. More on that to follow.

The only things you truly need are a great chicken and a proper knife. Ours is a beautiful honsuki knife kindly supplied by @kitchenprovisions and it does the job expertly. Sharp. Balanced. Delightful.

Watch along as @grylos talks it through.
  • Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
  • Kindred spirits. Hot pans. Spiced mutton.
Swaledale x Canton Arms supper.
Wednesday 25 February.
To book email Thecantonarms@gmail.com

@cantonarms
  • Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls.

A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away.

In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
  • Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop?

This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere.

These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
  • Fancy a bit of a butcher’s tip? Or a hack, if you will. Well look no further. 

Here, @grylos, gets creative with a joint of boned and rolled beef rump, creating three, totally different meals, from the one piece of meat. A great example of some leftfield thinking and the perfect way to add a little variety into your weekly meal planning. Along the spectrum from raw to medium, your week could go a little something like this; tartare and toast lightly rubbed with garlic for lunch on Wednesday; steak night on Friday night, with chips, good red wine and a bowl of bearnaise; a roast dinner on Sunday. Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt and a carnivorous and hugely satisfying week of eating is complete. 

All that from a single rolled rump of beef! A life hack if I ever saw one…

Did you know that our rumps won 3 stars at the Great Taste Awards? 3-star rump, you can’t argue with that!
  • Do you love bacon?

Here’s our in house science and history teacher, @grylos, talking osmosis, salt, and the slow work of dry curing bacon.
It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. 

Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. 

It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. 

Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx

Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
5 days ago
1454
View on Instagram |
1/8
We have all seen the videos. A chicken arrives. Five neat strokes of a knife. It falls apart as if by magic. That comes from thirty years at the block. Most of us do not have that. So here is a slightly more Radio 4 approach. A calm, sensible way to take a good chicken and break it down at home. Nothing flashy. Just understanding the joints, working with the bone, and giving each part the respect it deserves. When you do that, you open up a week (almost) of meals. Breasts cooked one way. Legs another. A carcass that becomes stock rather than waste. More on that to follow. The only things you truly need are a great chicken and a proper knife. Ours is a beautiful honsuki knife kindly supplied by @kitchenprovisions and it does the job expertly. Sharp. Balanced. Delightful. Watch along as @grylos talks it through.
2 weeks ago
611
View on Instagram |
2/8
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton. It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits. Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat. That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton. There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
3 weeks ago
501
View on Instagram |
3/8
Kindred spirits. Hot pans. Spiced mutton. Swaledale x Canton Arms supper. Wednesday 25 February. To book email Thecantonarms@gmail.com @cantonarms
3 weeks ago
1526
View on Instagram |
4/8
Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls. A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away. In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
4 weeks ago
14416
View on Instagram |
5/8
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop?

This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere.

These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop?

This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere.

These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop? This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere. These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
1 month ago
472
View on Instagram |
6/8
Fancy a bit of a butcher’s tip? Or a hack, if you will. Well look no further. Here, @grylos, gets creative with a joint of boned and rolled beef rump, creating three, totally different meals, from the one piece of meat. A great example of some leftfield thinking and the perfect way to add a little variety into your weekly meal planning. Along the spectrum from raw to medium, your week could go a little something like this; tartare and toast lightly rubbed with garlic for lunch on Wednesday; steak night on Friday night, with chips, good red wine and a bowl of bearnaise; a roast dinner on Sunday. Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt and a carnivorous and hugely satisfying week of eating is complete. All that from a single rolled rump of beef! A life hack if I ever saw one… Did you know that our rumps won 3 stars at the Great Taste Awards? 3-star rump, you can’t argue with that!
1 month ago
2585
View on Instagram |
7/8
Do you love bacon? Here’s our in house science and history teacher, @grylos, talking osmosis, salt, and the slow work of dry curing bacon.
1 month ago
3618
View on Instagram |
8/8