the last day of summer

The last day of summer (phew!).  And so it seemed fitting to make this mango and aubergine soba noodle salad by Ottolenghi.  Some tried and tested variations (and in my view improvements) to his original recipe:

 - Be generous with the aubergine.  He says to use two, I would say use two of the biggest bad boys you can find.  Or three normal ones.
 - Cube and toss the aubergine in olive oil and roast for 25 mins in a hot oven.  It's easier and less oily than pan frying in the 300ml of oil he suggests, though I don't for a second disagree that a well fried and daresay oily piece of aubergine is something delicious.
 - Use less sugar in the dressing.  He suggests 40g.  I used 20g and still thought it was too sweet.
 - Use more lime, the tanginess is deluxe and I think much nicer than the taste of the rice vinegar.
 - Thinly slice the red onion and steep it in the lime juice.  It's less oniony and goes a nice puce pink colour.
 - Don't bother weighing the herbs, just use what you think looks right.  Life is too short to weigh basil leaves.
 - Don't believe him when it says 'serves 4'.  The two of us ate the whole lot within minutes of me putting down the camera.  Incredibly, the recipe in the book (a bible of sorts in this house) says 'serves 6'.

The end.

fudgy spiced gingerbread chocolate brownies

It's hard to improve on a good basic brownie recipe, and Nigella's recipe from Domestic Goddess is my favourite, but here is something we tried last night because we had the ingredients and it felt like a nice, festive thing to do.  We weren't disappointed.  These were VERY rich, VERY chocolatey, VERY fudgy and maybe just a bit too grown up for the kids, although it didn't stop them from scoffing them at breakfast this morning.  We used Leslie Keating's recipe and I added more fresh ginger than the recipe called for, which left a pleasant hum of warm ginger after each bite.  I also reduced the amount of sugar, just slightly, because the mound I'd poured out seemed like a lot.  We didn't miss it but I added a few white choc chunks so maybe that was why.  Next time, I'm going to add a teaspoon of orange zest.

We ate them warm with cheap vanilla ice cream, which balanced out the intensity just nicely.

#lovechristmas

festive AND summery

This recipe (from this book) takes fresh but slightly under ripe peaches and steeps them in pinot noir and a little sugar.  They are left in the fridge overnight and then brought back to room temperature before serving.  We adapted the recipe slightly in that we used vanilla sugar (inspired), added a cinnamon stick (inspired) and drank/ate the peaches chilled (inspired) and we were not disappointed with the festive but summery outcome.  And by not disappointed, I mean completely delighted.

It's not really a mulled wine as we know it because the very definition of mulled means whatever you are mulling should be warmed, but it's an alternative I suppose, for those of us that love mulled wine and the festive feelings it invokes, but can't bear to drink it in the middle of an Australian summer, which is French for not-Christmassy-not-at-all.

coconuts and strawberries

The last two weekends have been pretty good.  Hard work, but good.  We've made more progress on painting the house (only one room to go!) and the weather is really quite deluxe at the moment, so we've been spending time in the garden before it gets too hot and mosquito-ey.

A particular highlight has been the barbecuing we've been doing on our makeshift coal barbecue, fashioned from some breeze blocks, 'borrowed' bricks, some disposable foil trays and the grills from our gas barbecue (pfft, who needs one of those) and actual coal.  Every since moving to Brisbane, it's been a bit disappointing that barbecuing here is about gas fired barbecues.  They're fine and all but you don't get that smokey taste of barbecue/summer on your food with a gas barbecue and frankly, I don't see the point.  You may as well stick your food in the oven and not have to clean a barbecue up afterwards.  For ages I've been going on about building our own little coal pit, one on which we can cooked spicy skewered meat, potatoes in foil straight on the coal and sweetcorn on the cob over the flames.  And then when all that's done, you take the grill off the coal, throw a few little logs on and have yourself a summer camp fire on which to toast marshmallows and get a bit tipsy next too.

We did it a lot as kids.  My parents, especially my dad and his brothers were very keen on the art of the slow, sit-around-it barbecue and most summers we'd be together with our cousins every weekend, cooking outside.  Spicy chicken, lamb kofta kebabs, potatoes in foil, big bowls of rice... the dads would drink cold beers and then whisky and the warm days seem to go on and on and on (they do in the English summer) and the vibe was great.

So a couple of weekends ago, I suggested to Will that we build a little coal pit.  We did.  Sure it took a bit of work to keep the dogs from the skewers of tandoori chicken that were at dachshund nose-height and the kids needed to understand they weren't to go anywhere near it, but it was worth it.  My waning enthusiasm for all things new in the kitchen was alight again, enough that I then made this exceptional coconut cake with strawberries and cream cheese frosting.  After searching and searching for a recipe for the aforementioned that didn't involve strawberry flavoured jelly or boxed cake mix, I found and adapted this one, though I didn't do much to the recipe as just work out the right proportions for a smaller cake than the recipe suggests, mainly because if you're going to renew your gym membership to get fit for the summer, you shouldn't eat a lot of cake.  (This is contrary to my husband's view on exercise, btw.)  So yes, this is a keeper.  We all loved it, including my children, but that's not saying much.

Try it.  You'll spend all day making it but you'll be glad you did.

Ingredients
Frosting
270g cream cheese, at room temperature
120g unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
250g icing sugar
500g strawberries

Cake
310g plain flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
200ml unsweetened coconut milk
180g unsalted butter, at room temperature
240g granulated sugar
3 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup desiccated or shredded coconut (I used desiccated because it's what I had)

Method
Frosting
Beat cream cheese, butter and vanilla with an electric mixer until whipped and fluffy. Add confectioners' sugar and mix until fluffy again.  I would suggest that a drop of Malibu might work here instead of the vanilla.



Cake
Preheat oven to 180°c. Lightly grease and line two 8-inch round cake pans.
Sift together flour, baking powder, salt and baking soda into a large bowl. Beat butter and sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment 5 minutes or until light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, with mixer on low speed, scraping down sides of bowl as necessary. Add vanilla. Alternately add flour mixture and coconut milk in several additions before stirring in the coconut.
Spread batter into cake pans and bake for 35 minutes or until golden and cake tester inserted into center of cakes comes out clean. Cool completely.

Place one cake layer on a cake plate or stand. If cakes have rounded tops, gently trim with a serrated knife and present the off cuts to your children.  Spread a thin layer of frosting on cake layer and top with chopped strawberries. Place other cake layer on strawberries, with flat side up and press down gently to secure. Frost top of cake with remaining frosting and decorate with remaining strawberries.  Eat a slice immediately, and then every time you open the fridge, which is where it's intended to be kept.

lentil samosas

Last week saw my first full day at home with all three of my little boys. Will has taken a few days off so that when the boys aren't in kindy, he's been home with me, providing an essential extra pair of hands.  He went back to his normal working week last week, and I guess it marked the start of my normal working week too, because this is how things are going to be for a little while.

Anyway, I survived. We actually had a pretty good day.  Somehow, I managed to get all three boys to sleep at the same time, so I had two hours to myself.  I didn't do anything exciting with the time but I did finish painting our ensuite, which looks crisp and fresh and new.  Starting next week, I'm reducing the amount of time the boys are at kindy.  It's a decision driven by economics more than anything but also by my realisation that this is most likely my last ever period of maternity leave (I am not ruling anything out), and so making the most of spending time with the children while they are still preschoolers is pretty important.  We thought about taking them out of kindy altogether but we don't want to lose our places and it's nice for me to spend one-on-one time with Hugo.  It's also nice for the kids to have variety in their week and for me to not lose my mind trying to look after three kids on my own without any break.

In other news, we've been cooking new things.  I found this recipe for lentil samosas via Pinterest a few months ago and I've been keen to try it.  A couple of weeks ago, we did and it was good.  We modified the recipe slightly (details below) and they also fried well from frozen, making them a good, quick nutritious supper with greek yogurt.  The only changes I might make would be to add some chopped, cooked mushrooms, maybe.

Ingredients for about 40 little two-bite size samosas:
A couple of cups of dried lentils.  I used those round brown ones (not split) which kept their shape whilst still being tender.  I expect puy lentils would be great in these, as they too would keep their shape/texture and next time, that's what I'll try.
A couple of big handfuls of finely chopped baby spinach leaves
A big handful of chopped coriander
A big handful of chopped mint
A handful of chopped spring onions
A couple of teaspoons of garam masala
A teaspoon of cumin
Sea salt (to taste)
Spring roll pastry (found in the freezer section), unless you are a real hero with hours to spare and you have made your pastry from scratch*
Flour and water paste (for sticking the pastry together)

Method:
Cook the lentils.  To my mother's horror, I boiled mine rather than cooking them using the absorption method.  She believes you should only use as much water as is necessary so you don't need to drain them and all the nutrients are kept in the pot.  She has a point, but I didn't do it that way.
Drain the lentils and combine with the other ingredients.
Fill the spring roll or home made pastry with the mixture, using these instructions or however you want to fill them.  Triangular samosas are traditional and cutest. You use a paste made from flour and water to stick the pastry together.
Fry in hot canola or sunflower oil for a few minutes until golden and eat them straight away.  You can eat them with ketchup, or do as we did, and combine thick, full fat Greek yoghurt, chopped cucumber, chopped avocado, lime/lemon juice and seasoning. Spritz them with lemon juice just before eating.

This weekend, I'm going to make paneer samosas.  After I've consulted my mother of course.  I wouldn't want to get it wrong, you see.

*I have watched and helped my mother make the actual pastry for samosas.  It's delicious but it's also incredibly time consuming, and unless you have an abundance of aunties and cousins around to watch your kids for a couple of hours, it's probably not worth doing, as the frozen spring roll wrappers, which consist of the same ingredients and no additives work just as well.  I'm a convert.

fry me some chicken

Seriously, this was good.  As close to that famous takeaway chicken as you can get without the grease, questionable chicken, excessive salt and the MSG.  In other words, very flavoursome and dare I say it, wholesome.

I mixed a couple of cups of flour with the following (recipe adapted from here):

1 tsp smoked paprika
1 tsp mustard powder
1 tsp ground, dried sage
2 tsp celery salt
1/2 tsp sugar
1 tsp dried onion flakes
1 tsp ground black pepper
1 tsp ground white pepper

I generously dredged my overnight-buttermilk-soaked free-range, organic chicken pieces in the seasoning and fried for about 12 minutes on each side before finishing in the oven for a few minutes.  Served with coleslaw made from 1/4 cabbage, half a red onion, a couple of carrots, a fennel bulb, plenty of fresh parsley, mint, dill and a dressing of natural yoghurt, a little mayo, lemon juice, smooth dijon mustard, salt and pepper.  A triumph.  The only thing missing was a cold beer.  Not long now.

you feel better

You leave work early because what should be a manageable head cold has left you feeling rotten, with that sort of headache, sneezing and snottiness that won't go away, leaving you completely devoid of energy.

You make it home, get into a hot shower, your most comfortable clothes and feel thankful that your husband is going to pick up the kids and feed them while you lie in bed.  They come home, the boys adorably sweet with their concern for you, even if it only lasts seconds before they are causing chaos.  Realising you can't possibly rest with the racket, you get up, and that's where the restoration begins.

You take the half eaten roast chicken from Sunday night, strip it of any meat - could be a bit or a lot, put the carcass in a pot with some water, a carrot, an onion, simmer for 30 mins.  Mean time, fry some finely diced onion, carrot, parsley and garlic in some butter and a little oil.  Add a splash of marsala or sherry or vermouth, scrape up the goodness from the bottom of the pan before straining the broth into the vegetables and throwing in some thyme, bay and the shredded chicken.  Season well and let it simmer for a while.  You chop up some tarragon and add to the pan with some frozen peas.

You make up some dumpling batter - 1 cup of flour, 1/2 milk, 20 grams butter (melted by putting it in the milk and microwaving for 40-50 seconds), salt, baking powder (about a level tsp).  Mix the milk into the dry ingredients with a spoon, the dough should be wet and gooey.  Drop teaspoonfuls of it into the soup, you'll have about 10 dumplings.  You let it simmer gently, covered for about 15 minutes.  By this time, your husband has fed, bathed and put the kids to bed and the dumplings have doubled in size.  You ladle the soup into bowls.  You eat.  You feel better.  You really do.

tomatoes

This evening, Will and I ate a kilo and a half of tomatoes between us.  That's not counting the sliced tomato we might have had on our lunch time sandwich.  This is how to do it:

Buy way too many tomatoes.  Way too many.  Mainly because you can't be bothered working out the weight of 6-7 tomatoes, so you end up specifying "2kg" or something ridiculous on your online shop.  It was a gamble, yes, because tomatoes especially, you want them red and ripe and you want to smell those stems and the people that are employed by our supermarkets to pack my groceries in particular aren't exactly good at picking.  But the last couple of weeks have been kind of busy and I haven't the time to meander through the markets, so online supermarket shopping (the worst kind?) has been a saviour of sorts.  Anyway, the gamble paid off and the toms we got were good.  End of summer ripe and fragrant and good.

Next?  Let your husband unpack the shopping so that he has the opportunity to say comedic things like "you've bought enough tomatoes for our very own version of that Spanish tomato tossing festival".  Go straight to Deb Perelman, because you know she'll have a recipe that involves tomatoes.  And how.  She has this one.  It's a roasted tomato and 'broiled cheddar' soup.  Now I don't know about you, but the word 'broiled' evokes some weird cooking method that may or may not involve a cauldron.  What she is of course referring to is grilled cheddar.  I'm not sure about broiled cheddar but you could put grilled cheddar with most anything and it would be good.  I was sold.

So this afternoon, I did the easiest possible thing you could do with that many tomatoes, made this amazing roasted tomato soup (with extra roasted garlic) and ate every last bit of it.  So keen were we to devour the smells that had been emanating our kitchen, I forgot to photograph the finished soup, complete with its sourdough grilled cheese topper. Even the kids liked their cheesy spelt sourdough toasts although they weren't exactly hungry after eating most of the bread before I'd even sliced it up for dinner.  And now here we are, the other side of another recipe we'd never tried before, better for it and lycopened up to the hilt.  Ready for some leftover plum almond tart.  With cream.

plum almond tart

This is the recipe, but I've replicated it here with metric measurements.  Changes:  I doubled the frangipane filling because the pastry quantity was enough to do a big tart and a couple of little ones.  I didn't glaze the plums with red current jelly; the stuff I had was a little on the old side and I decided not to use it.  I did however use a black raspberry liqueur in the frangipane that's probably as old as the redcurrant jelly, but a little sip confirmed it tasted just fine.

This was good.  A little on the sweet side but some whipped cream helped with that.  I would have liked to have had some of those spectacular blood red plums but we are at the end (or even past) the stone fruit season, so I used what I could find.  They were good, not terribly juicy but then when you've added sweet, short pastry, frangipane and whipped vanilla cream, who cares.

Ingredients

Pastry:

150g plain flour

1 tablespoon sugar


a pinch of salt


110g chilled unsalted butter, cut into small pieces


2 tablespoons iced water


1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract


Filling:

50g whole or ground almonds

75g raw caster sugar


1 large egg


45g unsalted butter, room temperature


4 teaspoons framboise (raspberry liqueur) 


400-500g ripe plums, pitted, cut into thick wedges (8-9 per plum)


Method:

See if your husband doesn't mind taking care of dinner proper (he didn't) before preheating the oven to 180°c. Make pastry by combining the cold butter, flour, sugar and salt in a food processor until the mixture looks like breadcrumbs.  Mix together the water and vanilla, add to the processor and process until the dough comes together in big lumps.  You may need more water (I did).  Gather dough into ball and roll out on floured surface. Transfer to 9-inch-diameter tart pan with removable bottom. Trim overhang to 1/2 inch. Using fork, pierce dough all over. Freeze for 15 minutes.

Bake crust until pale golden, about 20 minutes before cooling.

If using whole almonds, grind almonds with sugar in processor. Add egg, butter and 2 teaspoons framboise. Process until batter forms. Spread filling into cooled crust. Arrange plums in the filling. Bake until plums are tender and filling is golden and set, about 50 minutes.

Cool tart. Serve at room temperature with whipped cream, although it would be nice warm too.

chocolate nutella clouds

We have illness in our house this week.  Remember this?  This was the last time the boys were actually properly sick, and it was very coincidentally a year ago, just before Max's 1st birthday party.  With his 2nd birthday this weekend, it's a little unfortunate that we're back here again, but this time with dry, barking coughs and unrivalled fatigue and general lowness and fingers crossed, just about enough time to recover, unlike last year when we had to postpone the festivities.

That said, Ollie's coping with it ok.  He's tired, but he's not fighting the need to sleep which is good, and judging by the way he ate the chocolate cloud nutella cupcakes I made yesterday, his appetite seems to be ok, although I think he'd eat the icing off a cake any day of the week.

Here's the recipe for these intense little mamas, which I made under the ruse of practising for Max's party next weekend (any excuse).  Of course mine didn't turn out quite so cute, but they were pretty good nonetheless.  The frosting, whilst cloud like and pretty spectacular, was actually too much for me and Will, way to buttery and sweet but the cakes themselves... they were arguably the best chocolate cakes I've ever eaten.  And I'm not that big a fan of chocolate cake (a vanilla butter cake is my choice).

But the children loved the frosting, and not so much the cake, so I guess there's a symmetry there that's cute.  It was nice to see them enjoy the messiness of chocolate cupcakes when they were both feeling a little fragile and it was particularly nice to know I could make them feel that way with something so simple.  Yeah, they should have been eating chicken soup but you know as well as I do that was never going to happen.  In fact I did make chicken dumpling soup for dinner with last night's leftover chicken and broth (and predictably the boys didn't touch it) but Will and I loved it and felt great afterwards.  That has to count for something.

nourishment

There is a place that Will and I go to when I need nourishment that can't be found in a sandwich, sushi roll or any other of my usual lunches.  It's a magical place in the middle of the Brisbane CBD, close to where Will's offices are and not that far away from mine (though far enough that I can't be tempted every day).  It's a place that we will meet at once a fortnight or so, to enjoy a bowl of what we know is good for us, each other's company and conversation about holidays we want to take, funny things the children have said and done, and how our days have been in anticipation of this meal to come.  But once our piping hot meals arrive in the mismatched crockery, we sit quite quietly, the only noises being those of appreciation for what's in front of us (the food and each other I suppose) before yet again announcing that Taro's make the best, the best, bowls of noodles we have ever tasted.  Ever.

vanilla custard

There is laundry to fold, people I need to write to and lists I need to make for Max's upcoming birthday party, but instead I'm going to write about custard.  Not of the cowardy cowardy kind, but that lovely home made pale yellow sweet velvety kind that I always thought was such a mission to make but now realise it's totally easy peasy.

This was the recipe, (I think, they are all much the same anyway). I didn't bother with any straining business and let my KitchenAid do the hard work, all that whisking of egg yolks and sugar, and then I slowly poured the warmed milk/cream into the mixer while it was still going, and then dumped the whole lot back into the pan and within minutes, there it was, the elixir to my puddings, home made vanilla custard (made with extract rather than a vanilla pod, which I didn't have at the time).

But since then, and speaking of vanilla, one of the most exciting parcels ever arrived this week.  18 natural java vanilla beans, sourced direct from the farmers themselves at a price of their choosing, and sold to me at a price that is positively bargainous.  From the most lovely people at Indrivanilla, I paid US$34 for 18 shrink wrapped beans, soft as you like and about 7-8" long each.  You're lucky here to get vanilla for less than $6 for a dried up shrivelly bean that's been sitting on a supermarket shelf for months, so the fact that I am writing this and able to smell the incredible aroma of this vanilla that I paid less than $2 a bean for (including express delivery from the US, that is), is somewhat exciting.

I'm going to put half the beans in brandy or bourbon, or maybe even vodka, so they keep forever and the rest I'm going to use in anything I possibly can.  Including custard, because now I know it's so dang easy to make.  Food.  It makes me so blummin' happy.

leftovers

In an effort to justify my upcoming purchase of a new freezer (it really will make life much easier), I've been emptying the contents of the little freezer we already have.  This week it was the leftover chunk of Christmas ham, which I defrosted overnight in the fridge before shredding and adding to leeks, mushrooms, chicken stock (also from the freezer) and a couple of dollops of sour cream and encasing in puff pastry. 

The result was a flaky golden ham, leek and potato pie, with a flavoursome, savoury, Christmassy filling that totally tasted like I should have made it on Boxing Day.  Served with steamed broccoli and peas.  Enjoyed by everyone.

This is the recipe, adapted from this one.

Ingredients:

2 tbsp butter

2 leeks, finely sliced

2 medium potatoes, cut into small cubes

2 large handfuls of mushrooms, sliced

2 bay leaves

a few sprigs of thyme

1 tbsp plain flour

300ml chicken stock

2 tbsp sour cream

2 tsp wholegrain mustard

200g cooked ham, shredded

puff pastry - enough to line and cover your pie tin

a beaten egg with a little milk, to glaze

Method:

Cook the leeks over a low heat in the butter for about 5 minutes, until they are soft.  

Add the potatoes and cook for a further 10 minutes or so.  I added a few splashes of water here and there and covered the dish to steam the potatoes and really soften the leeks so they are sweet.

Add the mushrooms, thyme and bay and continue frying until the vegetables are soft and the potatoes cooked.  

Stir in the flour, cook for a moment before adding the stock and allowing the sauce to thicken a little. 

Stir in the cream, mustard, ham and season.

Allow to cool before putting mixture into a puff pastry lined pie tin (mine's about 7"diameter) and topping with more puff pastry.

Brush with beaten egg mixture and bake at 180c for about 30 minutes.

Serve with plenty of fresh, steamed, greens.

culinary mount everest

It's what Deb Perelman of Smitten Kitchen calls her home made lasagne and no wonder.  It is a feat to accomplish and a feast to behold (although it didn't get beheld in our house as much as it got snaffled up).  Lasagne bolognese is up there as one of my favourite, hearty, home cooked treats and I'm always looking to improve the recipe I've used for all these years.  I've made it from scratch before a few times you see, even down to making our own pasta, but I've always skipped cooking the pasta first and while the flavours have been good, it's always been a little floury.  Now I know why, although I can't tell you why I've always ignored this step.  Maybe because it's another step in an already long list of tasks and well, when you want a lasagne, you want it bad.  And now.

I didn't skip a thing this time, no.  I followed Deb's recipe almost to the letter**.  I added an extra egg to the pasta (working on Jamie Oliver's 1 egg per 100g flour) and I'm glad I did, because even with the extra egg I needed a splash of water to bring the dough together.  I started it in our KitchenAid before kneading it myself, until it was as smooth and as sproingy as can be.  Deb doesn't suggest working the dough at all, but I've always thought you needed to work the gluten to get a nice, firm but springy pasta.  I could be wrong but after all the work I'd put into the ragu and the bechamel, I went with what I knew and had tested before, and it worked a treat.

The children got a kick out of cranking the pasta machine and I loved taking photos of them doing so, and while I'd hoped Ollie would be more enthusiastic about eating pasta having helped make it, it wasn't to be.  I must have the only child that doesn't want to eat pasta.  No matter what.  Is this normal?

So after the ragu, the bechamel, the pasta came the finished dish and a lot of washing up, which was totally worth it.  The result was delicious, although it didn't hold together terribly well, but it had that creamy/meaty quality that I often crave in a lasagne but can be lacking in the home made variety which can sometimes be too dry.  Max polished off his portion and I was left wondering whether for dessert I'd eat a slice of banana cake with some single cream or another portion of lasagne.  It was that good.  (I did both.)

Next time?  I'll keep the pasta a hair thicker.  I like it thin but I also like a bit of structure to my lasagne and a thicker pasta might help with that (although the next day the reheated slab was pretty much structurally sound).  Other than that, there's not much I'd change. I'd make more, though and freeze up a couple of those bad boys for that mid week moment when you know you deserve something special but after the boys are fed, bathed and in bed you can barely peel yourself off the couch to make it happen. After all, you've just climbed a culinary mountain (with a few detours along the way), so why not take an evening off?

** Changes included:
 - The ragu - I added some rosemary (and wished my bay laurel hadn't been demolished by those cheeky little grasshoppers only the day before).  I also used two 400g tins of tomatoes rather than tomato paste and water.  I found this meant I didn't need to keep topping the ragu up with water (although I did once or twice), and I got a much more mellow sauce rather than one which I think would have been too sweet and rich for my liking.  I only simmered mine for about 3.5 hours, which was ample.  I loved the idea of using the food processor for chopping the mirepoix (or I suppose the term soffritto would be more appropriate) as I do find the chopping a little tedious when I'm trying to get this done during the kids' naps.  Once it was on, the ragu was as easy as anything.
 - The bechamel - the nutmeg is, to my mind, essential.  It gives the bechamel a depth and a fragrance and an earthiness that is so good, Will eats the leftover bechamel straight from the pan with the wooden spoon.  I also needed much more milk than the recipe suggested but then I've never come across a recipe for  bechamel that didn't need a bit of judgement when it came to how much milk to add. 
 - Pasta - I added an extra egg and I used 00 flour, rather than plain (though we've used plain flour before and it was fine).  I've only ever made Jamie Oliver's pasta recipe, and it is a winner.  And I kneaded the bejesus out of the dough on a heavily floured surface before letting it rest for 30 mins in the fridge.  The humidity didn't help but we worked quickly and that did.

pinterest and potstickers

A few weeks ago, I finally joined the gang that is Pinterest.  I love it.  This newfound interest somewhat explains the lack of blogging (although the main reason for that is that Will is using my macbook for the Straddie project - more on that later) but the main thing about Pinterest is how damn cool it is to just be able to, with one click of the button, bookmark that awesome image/recipe/idea that you previously didn't have a good way of filing.  For an organisation freak, it's a dream come true.

Now, I love it, I spend a lot of time looking at stuff, but I also think I now waste less time looking for stuff.  You find people that like the stuff you do, and hey presto, at your disposal are images of all the things you want to look at!  Or make!  Or dream about!  Or cook!

Yes, cooking.  It's a veritable wealth of information, images that make you drool, that make you want to cook and then ideas for food that you never knew existed.  Hooray. 

So it was via Pinterest that I found this recipe.  It's for those delectable Chinese dumplings, which are dumplings when they are steamed but potstickers when they are panfried.  Do you know how much I love them?  A lot.  A potsticker is that perfect combination of crispy, chewy, savoury, juicy, bite sizedness and it comes with dipping sauce.  It's the perfect food for me.  And all those different fillings too!  So when I came across this cute little image of home made dumplings, I had to make them myself.  It seemed like madness what with time being so scarce but I wanted those little suckers so badly, I had to do it.

So I did.  I followed the recipe and shunned the food processor to hand chop everything except the pork which I did whizz in the Magimix, and the ginger, which I got out of the frozen stash of grated ginger I keep.  I didn't make my own wrappers since I thought this might be the bit I could really screw up and I wanted them to be at least half good.  So I bought pre made gowgee wrappers (for $1.90 a pack of 30, it seemed the sensible thing to do) and then sat and meditatively wrapped and crimped each one (and I made 75 in total), before laying them out on a tray, and freezing them for that quick fix.

The kids actually liked them.  We loved them.  They were crispy, succulent, flavoursome.  As I was filling them, Will and I kept commenting on how good the raw filling smelled.  The dipping sauce was the perfect accompaniment and they looked beautiful.  All up, about 90 mins of preparation and about 10 minutes to cook.  Worth every moment.  Happy to answer questions over technique but you know, it was easy.  Easier than I thought it would be and a very good investment of time.

You know, often you think you don't have time. Time to do anything. Now that I'm a working mother, I can't even fathom how I used to fill my days.  We feel so busy, we feel like there's no time, and especially not time to make home made Chinese pork dumplings. The truth is we do have time.  We aren't that busy, we just like to complain about it - lord knows I do.  But we should all make time to nourish our souls and learn something new, because that's what makes us feel good.  Happy Chinese New Year.

melanzane alla parmiagana

9

It's so good, I've written about it before.  It's arguably the best use of an aubergine I have ever come across and I've lost count of the times I've made and enjoyed this and every time, it gets that bit better.  It's straightforward, but grilling the aubergine takes time and patience and getting this bit right, I think, makes for a great dish rather than an ok one.  This is the recipe, except these are the changes:

1.  I use about 4-6 large aubergines, rather than 3.  I don't think 3 is enough to make a good, dense, aubergine rich dish, and like a good lasagne, I think you want lots of layers.  If you end up with a few too many slices of aubergine, eat them.

2.  I grill the aubergine long and slow so it's meltingly soft and golden.  I do it on the lowest setting on our barbecue, which means I can grill approximately 5 large aubergines, sliced about 1cm thick all in one go.  It's quicker, cleaner and I quite like standing at the barbecue slowly and methodically turning the aubergine slices until they are cooked to perfection (make sure they are as soft as can be).  I tend to do this the day before I assemble the dish, to split the work up a bit, but it's the only bit that's any work.

3.  The tomato sauce - Rather than one clove of garlic, I use three, and rather than one large onion, I'll use 1.5 or even two, very finely chopped and cooked slowly until soft and brown.  Cook the tomato sauce on a low heat for about 30 mins, or until you see a film of olive oil on top of the sauce which means (to me) that it's ready and your sauce will be very sweet and intense.  I like to be generous with the red wine vinegar and seasoning before blending the sauce until it's smooth.  Leftover sauce, if there is any, is great tossed through pasta with a bit of parmesan the next night (for the kids in particular for a quick mid week meal).

That's about it.  I top the assembled dish of layers of the aubergine, sauce and lots of parmesan with fresh  breadcrumbs, fresh oregano, torn up mozzarella and I bake it for about 40 mins.  Then, we eat it with warmed, crusty bread, cold butter and red wine. What we don't eat ends up in the freezer for the ultimate easy deluxe mid week dinner.

mushroom risotto heaven

This is fast turning into a diary of what we eat, but beyond looking after our boys, the grind of work and keeping house, enjoying the food we eat is what life seems to be about at the moment.  I've always been enthusiastic about only making what we want to eat and sometimes it can be a but cumbersome choosing to make what takes more effort than beans on toast (which is sometimes just what we fancy) but when we really feel like eating something, and in the absence of the long languorous dinners we used to enjoy, I think it's worth the extra effort to get it just right rather than settling for what'll do.  We have many pleasures in life at the moment, but for someone that eats every day, often three times or more a day, food is what fuels my every sense and I don't have the time or the inclination to eat anything except that which is cooked with love and enthusiasm.

So, I make no apology for this turning into a food diary.  And this next recipe is something else.  I love a good mushroom risotto but in all the years I've been cooking it, I've never managed to replicate that full-on, earthy, almost meaty flavour that you get in the restaurants.  Until now.

We had more field mushrooms than we knew what to do with, so I decided it was time to learn how to make a decent risotto, the oozy kind that you don't want to stop eating.  Even before finding the recipe I wanted to try, I knew I needed good stock, so I started with the homemade chicken variety, a few organic chicken wings, carrots, onions, fresh bay, thyme, parsnips, parsley, peppercorns, celery, plenty of water, simmered gently for a couple of hours.  This may seem like a lot of work but it's truly the easiest thing to make and having home made stock means you don't have to use the over-salted supermarket kind, which I fear is made with unhappy chickens and no love whatsoever.  I'm no chef but I know that home made stock, and you can make litres of it at a time, is probably one of the most useful things to have on hand, frozen into 250ml or 500ml tubs. (That, and frozen breadcrumbs made from fresh bread.)

So, stock made, I then searched for a recipe that came with a picture that looked like what I wanted to eat.  I found this one.  I followed it pretty much to the letter except I only had those big portobello mushrooms - none of the fancy kind - and more than the recipe needed, but I threw them all in (about double what was needed) and used plenty of stock, butter and salt (my stock was unsalted), parmesan and parsley and in 40 minutes, we had the perfect mushroom risotto.  (My only criticism of the recipe is that it said 'serves 4'.  Well I did 1.5 times the quantities suggested by the recipe which was enough for a big meal for two.  The original recipe would never have been enough for four.)

The key?  I'm no expert but I'm sure using good stock is important, and plenty of it too.  I reckon you want the risotto nice and oozy, so you probably need more stock than you realise (and this recipe was almost spot on with how much you'd need but I still used a tad more), don't skimp on butter and salt (good general rules for life, I think).  Keep stirring (it's not that big a deal to stand at a stove for 30 minutes), apparently the stirring is what makes the starch ooze from the rice, and don't let it get dry at any point.  Eat big platefuls, off your lap, in front of the tv while turning to your husband every few minutes and saying 'mmmm. best. risotto. ever'.

a visit from my mother-in-law

It doesn't happen often, as she has an enviable life of endless parties, weekends in Sydney and travel to faraway places, but when my mother-in-law does visit, it's always really nice and it's a perfect excuse to bake.  Here's our attempt at the London Cheesecake, by Nigella, topped with raspberries because even I need a bit of freshness on all that cake.

It was good and all, pretty damn good for a first attempt and even now, at 7am I could eat a slice, but I'm still on the search for that smooth, velvety, sweet, light slice of perfect cheesecake.

the year in review

I went back to work after giving birth to my littlest boy and to my surprise, loved it, I joined a gym and kept it up, we had visitors from England, we broke a fridge, we bought a new camera and took a million photographs, we edited our photos and backed them up responsibly, we realised we need a holiday but didn't have the time to take one, we escaped the floods but friends weren't so lucky, I baked a cheesecake and made a pavlova, both for the first time, we lost a baby and cried and cried, we learned our son is crazy for puzzles and our other son is a cheeky little devil with a naughty streak that is adorable, we watched movies, so many movies, I watched my husband become an actual architect, I used my KitchenAid way more than I thought I would, I Skyped my parents every week, sometimes twice, I missed them terribly, we didn't always try a new recipe every week but we always ate good food, I loved watching the royal wedding, missed England and her countryside, visited the GoMA at least twice, we still haven't managed to get out to dinner but we had an awesome party for Will's birthday, we decorated our garden with 800 fairy lights, we said goodbye to Sue, but hello to Emma and Clasein, I had the most awesome birthday week EVER and ate at my favourite restaurant with my favourite person, we visited a zoo, our house was a zoo, I discovered patience, then lost it again, I became a little more like my mum, we ate McDonalds for the first time in years and regretted it, I got to know my sister as my friend and lamented the years we spent apart but realised it's better late than never, our boys' birthday parties were awesome and it didn't rain, we didn't send Christmas cards this year, but I've been good at keeping in touch with those I love, we became really good at doing the kids' packed lunches in about 10 minutes, and kept on top of keeping house, I worried about how I'm doing at work but found out they think I'm ok, I playdoughed, painted, tidied, read to my sons, our boys started sharing a room together, we only broke a few baubles this year, I wished I had read more books and had more haircuts, we had Christmas at our house with my friend Kate, I learned the names of lots of vehicles, we repaired our lawn and now our garden looks fabulous, I got cross with my boys more often than I would have liked but always ended the day with kiss and a cuddle, I started and ended the year very tired.  But so happy.

Come on 2012.   I know you are going to be great.

bhajia

I am quite a good cook.  I don't say that in a conceited way, because it wasn't that long ago that I didn't know how to do much more than boil an egg, but over the last 15 or so years, I've learned to cook reasonably well, and I know what goes with what in order to make a meal that most of the time, tastes good.  I think it's an intuition thing, and I realise now that it's just inexperience that has let me down in the past, and now that I cook all the time, it's mostly good.  Except, that is, for Indian food.

And that's a bit odd because my mother and her mum, my nonni are great cooks.  I know most people say that about their mothers but I have my husband to vouch for my mother's obsession with making things just right and knowing how to turn a simple main ingredient into something so delectable.  She hasn't ever followed a recipe (except for the odd cake, and even then she thinks she knows better) and if I ask her how to make something I know she does well, her response is usually 'well, you just throw everything into the pot'.  She's not trying to be difficult, it's just how she cooks.  And she cooks the most sublime Indian food that I find myself daydreaming about.  Thing is, while I've learned most of what I know about western food from watching cookery shows and reading books, I never spent any time in the kitchen watching my mum - she always insisted school work was more important, and I suppose it was pretty important and has stood me in very good stead but it's not that useful when there's an aubergine and an onion in the fridge and I can't remember how to make them taste the way she does by just 'throwing it all into a pot'.

When mum came to stay just after Max was born last year, she cooked almost every day.  Wait no, she cooked almost every meal, and I was determined, even though I was exhausted from the new baby fug, to learn how to cook Indian food, at least a couple of dishes, so that I could expand our repertoire and satisfy our cravings for home-cooked Indian food.  I watched her cook and wrote down exactly what she was doing in order to elaborate on her rather loose instructions.  I think she thought I was a bit crazy, who needs to write this stuff down?  Everybody knows what to do!  I wish I'd done it sooner as we've been able to enjoy some fantastic food since she was here, almost as good as she'd produce herself.

This dish is one I decided to try without having really observed the master in action, just rang her one day and accepted her instructions were never going to be that helpful, but broadly worked out what to do in order to come up with a version that I think is arguably better than hers.  I mean I wouldn't say that to her outright.  Well, ok, I probably would.  But only because I'd be so proud to feed it to her.  It's bhajia, or pakoras, or bhajis as they are known in balti houses... except in balti houses they are over-battered, soggy oniony balls of grease, so to give them the same name would be wrong.

Anyway, I'm sharing the recipe as it goes in my head.  Unlike it's restaurant counterpart, it's wholesome, full of vegetables, totally kid friendly (in our house, anyway) and snacktastically moreish.  It's also crispy, a feature I often look for in food.  I have no qualms with serving it with ketchup, although the kids prefer it with plain yoghurt (also good).  Try it.  It seems a hassle to do all that deep frying, but I love that my children eat it happily, and that Will always says 'this is great' when I cook it.  But as I said, I'm quite a good cook so that happens all the time.  Hah!

Bhajia (these quantities make a lot, and as it's best fresh, it may be best to halve these quantities unless you are feeding lots of very hungry people.)

3-4 medium potatoes, thinly sliced
1/2-1 whole cauliflower, depending on how big and how gassy this makes you, cut into small florets
250g (or a big bag) of spinach, shredded
a tablespoon or so of minced ginger (I add a little more as I love it)
about 3-4 cloves of garlic, crushed
a green chilli, minced (as much as you want - I often use none because the kids don't like it)
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 heaped tsp ground cumin
a couple or three good handfuls of chickpea (gram) flour
a couple or three tablespoons of natural yoghurt
lemon juice - from maybe 1-2 lemons
1 tsp of baking powder
sunflower oil

Put everything into a big bowl (I don't have one big enough so I use the biggest saucepan I have), and mix together with your hands.  Add more chickpea flour if needed to bind everything together, but I think less is more as you want to eat crunchy vegetables, not soggy batter.  You may need a splash or two of water as the yoghurt and lemon juice might not be enough to moisten the chickpea flour into a batter.  You don't want the batter too loose, it needs to be thick enough to keep the vegetables together but then you also don't need much of it.

Heat a large pan of sunflower oil.  Drop spoonfuls of the batter into the oil (I do this, like my mum, with my hands so you can make sure you get a good mix of all the vegetables in each piece but it's hazardous) and fry until golden brown.  Serve hot, with ketchup, or natural yoghurt, or a minty chutney.  Ring your mum and tell her how great she is.