Pork Recipes

Pork Ribeye Roast with Turnip & Swede Gratin, Cabbage & Apples

A roast dinner celebrating one of the best cuts of meat and a few highlights of the winter crop. It is simple, unassuming, and delicious.

When it comes to pork and joints for roasting, most of us tend to go for belly, loin, or shoulder, all of which makes for a sumptuous roast dinner. But, often overlooked, is the ribeye — sometimes referred to as the collar or neck fillet, which, in this form, has everything you want from a roasting joint. There is rind to crackle, a covering of fat, dark marbled meat that is interwoven with fat and tissue. The latter point is important, as it makes it a forgiving piece of meat to roast.

Deliciousness abound and even more so paired with a gratin of those most unique root vegetables: turnips and swede. The uniqueness I refer to here relates to their flavour — they both come with a slight tang and a warmth, which is actually quite hard to describe in words. If you know, you know.

Serves: 4-5

Cook time: 40 minutes

Ingredients

For the gratin

For the Cabbage and Apples

Method

For the Pork

  1. Remove the ribeye from the fridge, season well with sea salt, and leave to come up to room temperature, about 3 hours before you plan to cook it.
  2. Preheat your oven to 220°C.
  3. Drizzle a small amount of olive oil over the joint and rub over.
  4. Lay the sage, garlic, and onions on the bottom of an oven tray, season with a little salt and then place the ribeye on top. Put the tray in the oven and cook for 18 minutes, then reduce the heat to 150°C and cook for a further 20-25 minutes.
  5. Remove from the oven and leave to rest for at least 30 minutes.
  6. Once rested, remove the ribeye from the pan and transfer to a board. Set the roasting tray over a high heat and add the white wine. Bring to a boil, and then add the stock and the Dijon mustard. Bring this to a boil and then reduce to a simmer and cook for 15 minutes.
  7. Pass through a sieve and taste for seasoning. Adjust as necessary. This is your gravy.

For the Gratin

  1. Put the cream, thyme, white wine, garlic, several grinds of black pepper, and a good pinch of salt into a pan and bring to a very gentle simmer. Remove from the heat after 5 minutes and then leave to sit for a further 10 minutes.
  2. Thinly slice all the swede, turnip, and potatoes on a Japanese mandolin. Season with a little sea salt and leave to sit in a colander for 15 minutes.
  3. Pass the cream through a sieve and pour into a large bowl. Squeeze out any excess liquid from the turnips, swede and potato and then add to the bowl. Stir everything together and taste for seasoning, adjusting as necessary.
  4. Layer the potatoes, turnips and swede into an ovenproof dish, then grate over the Comte.
  5. Bake in the oven at 180°C for 30 minutes.

For the Apples and Cabbage

  1. Take the savoy cabbage and remove any old or damaged outer leaves, and trim up the root. Then cut in half and then each half into 4-5 wedges. Wash well with cold water.
  2. Set a frying pan over a medium heat and add the butter. As it melts, add the apples and sauté in the foaming butter until golden and caramelised.
  3. Remove the apples from the pan and add the cabbage wedges, plus a splash of water, season well with sea salt and a little black pepper and turn the heat up. Cover with a lid and cook for 6-8 minutes on a high heat, stirring regularly. You want the cabbage to take on a bit of colour, even char a touch in places. Add a splash more water if needed at any point.
  4. Once the cabbage is cooked, reintroduce the apples, stir together and check for seasoning, adjusting as necessary.

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Instagram

  • A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
  • Take a little inspiration from our very own grill master @grylos when it comes to cooking your big, bone in steaks. This method takes time, skill and plenty of patience but the result is a deep, dark char, beautiful blushing pink flesh and melting buttery fat. We can safely say, after this day we spent in the field, that it is well worth the effort. Close to steak perfection. 

Plus, he knocked up a charred spring vegetable green sauce, which was an ideal foil for that most delicious of steaks – clever boy. 

The idea is to spend time building a char and crust with many short visits to the hottest part of the grill, interspersed with time away from the grill, somewhere warm, slowly coming up to temperature. Placing it directly on the coals at the end is a bit of a gimmick, however, it did yield excellent results, so maybe give it a go (only if you have good quality charcoal though!)!

Steak perfection!!
  • To our friends down south, you might have noticed Yorkshire is still a good few weeks behind the march towards summer. The trees are only just coming into leaf in the Dales, especially up in Upper Wharfedale, and that gives us a little more time with the wild garlic.

Here is @grylos with what feels like one of his best ideas to date.

A proper use of those essential carcass balance cuts. Lamb hearts, though this would work just as well with tongues, sweetbreads or liver. Cooked simply, well seasoned, finished with a little lemon.

Alongside it, wild garlic taken from the darker, shaded parts of the woodland where it is still fresh. Even if it has started to turn, it holds up. Treated like spinach, wilted down, then cooked with oil, salt and cream, left to reduce until it becomes rich and full of flavour.

A brilliant little starter for our chefs blackboards, and something that will more than hold its own at home.

A dish for the season, if ever there was one.
  • We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
  • A while back we had the pleasure of visiting @petea25 at the @cantonarms Arms, where we spoke about their ever evolving menu, a place that is not afraid to cook things until they are gone and then move on to something new.

We saw how they treated the Swaledale pork chop, and it told you everything you needed to know. Cooked with care, handled properly, and full of flavour.

It was, simply, delicious.
  • Here’s our Trevor, stood in front of an expertly butchered sirloin section.

Porterhouse, T bone, Wing rib, New York strip, fillet, sirloin.

All cut from the same part of the animal, each one offering something slightly different.

Key question is; which one are you taking?
  • The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
  • The fallacy of Spring lamb!

When we eat lamb in early April, we aren’t eating the lovely little fluffy things people see hopping about in the fields. In fact, you’re actually eating – or at least you are if you are buying from us – old season lamb. The animals that were born the previous springtime. They are age wise, on the verge of morphing into hogget and, in our opinion, it is lamb at its very best. More flavourful as the meat has developed with age, but still with the tenderness one expects with lamb. 
One thing that is not in doubt is that it pairs perfectly with a lot of the seasonal ingredients of this time of year, the peas, broad beans and courgettes from the continent, plus Jersey royals, asparagus and wild garlic from these shores. 
We have plenty of these wonderful carcasses ageing in our fridges, so embrace the idea of eating last years spring lamb!
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently. The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system. They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return. There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
1 day ago
121
View on Instagram |
1/8
Take a little inspiration from our very own grill master @grylos when it comes to cooking your big, bone in steaks. This method takes time, skill and plenty of patience but the result is a deep, dark char, beautiful blushing pink flesh and melting buttery fat. We can safely say, after this day we spent in the field, that it is well worth the effort. Close to steak perfection. Plus, he knocked up a charred spring vegetable green sauce, which was an ideal foil for that most delicious of steaks – clever boy. The idea is to spend time building a char and crust with many short visits to the hottest part of the grill, interspersed with time away from the grill, somewhere warm, slowly coming up to temperature. Placing it directly on the coals at the end is a bit of a gimmick, however, it did yield excellent results, so maybe give it a go (only if you have good quality charcoal though!)! Steak perfection!!
2 weeks ago
1,16331
View on Instagram |
2/8
To our friends down south, you might have noticed Yorkshire is still a good few weeks behind the march towards summer. The trees are only just coming into leaf in the Dales, especially up in Upper Wharfedale, and that gives us a little more time with the wild garlic. Here is @grylos with what feels like one of his best ideas to date. A proper use of those essential carcass balance cuts. Lamb hearts, though this would work just as well with tongues, sweetbreads or liver. Cooked simply, well seasoned, finished with a little lemon. Alongside it, wild garlic taken from the darker, shaded parts of the woodland where it is still fresh. Even if it has started to turn, it holds up. Treated like spinach, wilted down, then cooked with oil, salt and cream, left to reduce until it becomes rich and full of flavour. A brilliant little starter for our chefs blackboards, and something that will more than hold its own at home. A dish for the season, if ever there was one.
2 weeks ago
1819
View on Instagram |
3/8
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on. It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year. As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later. Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
3 weeks ago
751
View on Instagram |
4/8
A while back we had the pleasure of visiting @petea25 at the @cantonarms Arms, where we spoke about their ever evolving menu, a place that is not afraid to cook things until they are gone and then move on to something new. We saw how they treated the Swaledale pork chop, and it told you everything you needed to know. Cooked with care, handled properly, and full of flavour. It was, simply, delicious.
3 weeks ago
37610
View on Instagram |
5/8
Here’s our Trevor, stood in front of an expertly butchered sirloin section.

Porterhouse, T bone, Wing rib, New York strip, fillet, sirloin.

All cut from the same part of the animal, each one offering something slightly different.

Key question is; which one are you taking?
Here’s our Trevor, stood in front of an expertly butchered sirloin section. Porterhouse, T bone, Wing rib, New York strip, fillet, sirloin. All cut from the same part of the animal, each one offering something slightly different. Key question is; which one are you taking?
4 weeks ago
601
View on Instagram |
6/8
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same. It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months. Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move. Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
4 weeks ago
491
View on Instagram |
7/8
The fallacy of Spring lamb! When we eat lamb in early April, we aren’t eating the lovely little fluffy things people see hopping about in the fields. In fact, you’re actually eating – or at least you are if you are buying from us – old season lamb. The animals that were born the previous springtime. They are age wise, on the verge of morphing into hogget and, in our opinion, it is lamb at its very best. More flavourful as the meat has developed with age, but still with the tenderness one expects with lamb. One thing that is not in doubt is that it pairs perfectly with a lot of the seasonal ingredients of this time of year, the peas, broad beans and courgettes from the continent, plus Jersey royals, asparagus and wild garlic from these shores. We have plenty of these wonderful carcasses ageing in our fridges, so embrace the idea of eating last years spring lamb!
1 month ago
662
View on Instagram |
8/8