Seared Foie Gras, Burnt Apple & Sourdough Soldiers
The most forgiving liver dish — if you're nervous, you're doing it right.
Foie gras gets a bad rap from people who've never actually cooked it. The truth? It's forgiving, quick, and tastes like pure autumn butter. I learned this from a knackered fine-dining chef in Clerkenwell who'd been doing the same dish for fifteen years without faffing about. Pair it with caramelised apples from Borough and yesterday's sourdough, and you've got a proper starter that says you know what you're doing.
How to Cook It
- 01
Slice and toast your soldiers
Cut sourdough into half-finger-thick batons. Arrange on a baking tray, brush lightly with duck fat, scatter salt. Into a 200°C oven for 6 minutes until golden and crisp. They'll still have a touch of give inside — that's the target.
~8 min - 02
Prep and caramelize the apples
Peel, halve, core your apples. Slice into fat half-moons. Heat a heavy-bottomed pan over medium-high; once it's hot, lay the apples flat in duck fat without moving them for 3 minutes. They want colour, almost char. Flip, add a pinch of salt and a crack of pepper, another 2 minutes. Pour in your cider or wine if using, let it bubble down to a syrup. The apples should look burnished, almost glazed.
~7 min - 03
Season your foie gras
Remove terrine from the fridge 5 minutes before service. Slice into four equal pieces — use a hot, dry knife (dip in hot water, wipe). Each piece should be about 30g. Season both sides with fleur de sel and cracked pepper. That's it. No flour, no faff.
~3 min - 04
Sear like you mean it
Get a non-stick or cast-iron pan smoking hot — you want it properly angry. Lay foie gras slices in for exactly 90 seconds per side. No poking. No basting. Just listen to it sing. The exterior will be caramelized mahogany, the inside still yielding. Pull onto a warm plate immediately.
~3 min - 05
Plate with confidence
Arrange foie gras in the centre. Lean caramelised apple slices against it. Prop toasted soldiers alongside. Don't overthink the geometry — a little chaos reads as intentional. Any pan juices from the apples? Pour them around the plate.
~2 min
“This isn't about symmetry or tweezers. Foie gras is inherently rich and generous — your plating should match that temperament. Warm plates. Serve immediately. The soldiers exist to cool your mouth between bites; don't bury them. Apples lean against the liver like they've known each other for years. One good drizzle of apple pan juice is better than a moat. If you're nervous, that's fine — just commit to the sear and trust the fat.”
First bite: butter and steel. The foie gras melts like a whisper, iron-mineral on the mid-palate. Then the apple cuts through — sharp, almost green underneath the caramel — and your mouth resets. The sourdough absorbs the juices and tastes like proper lunch. Finish: long, rich, almost peppery. That small crunch of salt doesn't leave.
Roast a thick slice of creamed cauliflower or plant-based 'foie' (Honestly Tasty makes a cashew version) in duck fat until golden. Sear for 90 seconds each side. The caramelised apples and sourdough soldiers stay exactly the same. If you can't source vegan foie, a thick slice of toasted brioche rubbed with white miso gives the umami richness without cheating. Serve alongside, treat it with the same respect — the richness comes from technique, not the ingredient.
Cliché exists for reason — botrytized sweetness meets foie gras umami like old friends. Sip between bites.
If Sauternes feels precious, go here instead. Mineral, floral, acid enough to cut through without drowning the liver.
Local apples with local apples — refreshing, slightly funky, keeps the plate moving without fuss.
Slight fizz or the raw acidity of good juice echoes the caramelised apples and cleans the palate between bites.
- ·Hot pan, cold foie — any hesitation and it'll stick like regret.
- ·Apples brown best when still damp; moisture = caramelization, not burning.
- ·Slice foie with a hot knife and wipe between cuts — it keeps the edge clean and the slice whole.
Show us yours.
Cooked this dish? Snap a photo, share it here. No filter, no fuss — the good, the wonky, the accidentally set-fire-to.
Sign in to share your photo of this dish.
No one's cooked this yet — be the first.