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May 30, 2005

Brown Soda Bread - the Irish connection

Brown Soda Bread One of the birthday presents that came from a thoughtful friend in Ireland was a very welcome book of Irish Cooking by Clare Connery. While this was a book that I might not have ever noticed in bookshops in Ireland, having several Irish cookery books already, here in New Zealand it is a pure treasure. With a subtitle of Over 100 Traditional Irish Recipes it's not likely that I'm going to run out of recipes to test any time soon. Leafing through it, the first thing that struck me were the recipes for Brown and White Soda Bread - instant nostalgia for the kitchens of my childhood where my mother, grandmother and aunts were always baking and there was much discussion over the best recipe for soda bread. Not that they ever used anything as prosaic as a weighing scales. It was always a handful of this and a drop of that.

I haven't tasted Brown Soda Bread since I left Ireland and so, while making Clare Connery's Ham and Pea Soup for supper, decided that this would be an ideal accompaniment. I found buttermilk, much to my amazement, at our small local supermarket and, in the absence of what Connery calls soda bread flour (I didn't know such a thing even existed in Ireland) made up the leavening difference with cream of tartar and bread soda, also known as bicarbonate of soda. After working with yeast breads for so long, the recipe was simplicity itself. Put all dry ingredients into a bowl, add buttermilk, mix, dump in tin and land in the oven. Despite me using what I thought was almost too much buttermilk, there were no problems.

Not knowing how much it would rise, I was loath to put the entire mixture into the tin which was looking rather full, so shaped the excess into a wee round loaf and cooked that on an enamelled pan. I certainly have some traditionalist leanings but, to subvert them, I scattered the top of the bread, not with some extra wholemeal flour as in the recipe, but with a handful of sesame seeds - not something which would have been readily available in the Ireland of my childhood.

The end result was something I would be happy to lay before my mother and aunts. While there was a slightly damp patch in the centre, this wasn't enough to cause problems and the brown soda bread went down a treat with the soup. The heretical sesame seeds, while not very noticeable on the fresh bread, came into their own when it was toasted for lunch the following day. I think this is a recipe that I'll be coming back to in the future, especially as you don't need to measure the ingredients - one cup of white flour to two of wholemeal and one of buttermilk and you're sorted. I'll dispense with the weighing scales yet!

Irish Brown Soda Bread
Plain flour - 175g
Bicarbonate of Soda - 2 teaspoons
Cream of Tartar - 1 teaspoon
Salt - a pinch
Wholemeal flour - 375g
Brown sugar - 1 teaspoon
Buttermilk - 400-475ml
Sesame seeds - 1 tablespoon

Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F and thoroughly grease a 19 x 11cm loaf tin with a little piece of butter.

Sift the plain flour, bicarbonate of soda, cream of tartar and salt into a large mixing bowl. Add the wholemeal flour and sugar and mix thoroughly. Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and pour in 400ml of the buttermilk. Stir with a wooden spoon to form a loose dough, adding more milk if necessary.

Turn the dough into the tin, leaving the surface rough. Sprinkle with the sesame seeds. Place the tin on a baking sheet and bake in the preheated oven for 30 minutes. Reduce the heat to 150°C/300°F and cook for another 30 minutes until the bread is well risen, brown, crusty on top and there's a hollow sound when you tap the base of the loaf.

Turn out on a wire rack and wrap in a clean tea towel until cold.

Adapted from Irish Cooking by Clare Connery.

Posted by Caroline at 10:28 AM | Comments (4)

May 28, 2005

Savour New Zealand: Greg Malouf

Greg Malouf One of the chefs that I talked to during Savour New Zealand was the innovative and influential Greg Malouf. An Australian of Lebanese descent, Greg has taken Lebanese food out of the souvlaki take-away shops and moved it into the world of fine dining with his acclaimed Melbourne restaurant MoMo. He has also been instrumental in broadcasting his take on Middle Eastern cuisine through masterclasses like Savour New Zealand and with his books - Arabesque and Moorish - written by Greg and ex-wife Lucy Malouf. Arabesque is an A-Z of Middle Eastern ingredients, an invaluable aid to the cook who has bought a bag of sumac or bottle of pomegranate juice and doesn't know what to do with it. Moorish is a more straightforward cookbook for those who already know what to do with the ingredients but are looking for new recipes.

Greg recently spent a month travelling in the Middle East for his new book which he hopes to launch in November of this year. "It's going to be a kind of travel diary, I just spent a month in the Lebanon and Syria. They are very different countries even though they border each other and occupy each other. Lebanon is very European, particularly Beirut, but the Arabic influence is also strongly felt. Lebanon is steeped in food culture so there aren't many trends but now there are a lot of high-end Japanese and French restaurants. If I was going to do a sabbatical, I would consider going over there and doing something contemporary Lebanese or Middle Eastern."

arabesque.jpg He travelled a lot as a young man, having a "ten year plan to expose myself to different cuisines." Greg worked in kitchens in France, Switzerland and Belgium before spending three years in Hong Kong: "that's where I got the interest in fusion cooking." During his travelling days he learned new techniques and about the importance of good ingredients and great produce. Despite his awareness and interest in world cuisines, Greg "always had Middle Eastern food at the back of my mind." His upbringing, as in many Lebanese households, was based around the kitchen table: "as a child I lived in the fridge."

When he returned to Melbourne in 1991, he started work at O'Connell's - the restaurant where he first made his name - during a time of great experimentation for him. "But I had to learn the importance of restraint. In the early days there was the temptation to put lots of things on the plate."

Although it may not be how we eat in the West, in the Middle East this made sense. "The way of eating in Lebanon is very different. When you sit down many little dishes are placed in the middle of the table - chickpeas, raw minced lamb, little rice birds with pomegranate dressing - then they bring the main course when they think you've had enough."

moorish.jpg Later, watching Greg Malouf in action with restaurateur Judith Tabron of Auckland's Soul Bar and Bistro at his Middle Eastern Magic class, I observed lot of affectionate banter between the two presenters who have known - and been abusing each other - for years. As Greg cooks, Judith tells of the first time that they met and that his first, abrupt question to her was "how many pin bones has a salmon?" Despite initial impressions, Judith has had him come to Soul for several cooking classes, causing headaches for herself when she tried to source certain ingredients that he wanted. Pigeons aren't normally sold as a foodstuff in New Zealand so she ended up buying a brace of "retired" carrier pigeons. Sourcing "smack", apparently the correct pronunciation of Middle Eastern seasoning sumac, has also proved difficult in the past. Greg interjects to say that sumac was originally used when there were no lemons around to add tang and flavour to a dish.

These were typical of the tips and comments handed out freely during the class as we ate our way through the rich Farmed Rabbit Bistayeea (a Moroccan-style sweet spiced pie with eggs and fried almonds) and lighter, but no less tasty, Sautéed King Prawns with Ras el Hanout, Angel Hair Pasta and Lentil Vinaigrette.

With Greg Malouf's passion for, and evident love of, educating people about the foods and tastes of his ancestral homeland it looks like the new book will definitely be worth taking a look at. Before it is launched, however, you might like to do yourself a favour and start your learning curve on the wonderful Moorish and, particularly, Arabesque.

Posted by Caroline at 11:48 PM | Comments (0)

May 26, 2005

Queencake central

Black Bottom Queencakes I've been temping lately and Friday was my last day of work in a lovely office so I decided to make some queencakes aka buns aka muffins aka cupcakes aka fairycakes (take your pick!) to bring in for morning tea. The cookbook that I would normally turn to in this kind of situation would be Nigella's Domestic Goddess but, in the absence of that, I had to rely on the internet throwing up one of her recipes. Fortunately it didn't take too long before discovering a recipe for Chocolate Cherry Cupcakes. It's a variation on her recipe for Chocolate Orange Cake which uses a jar of marmalade as one of the main ingredients. It's a cake that, despite the off-putting marmalade, is fantastic - all dark and chocolaty, with an intense orange flavour, and I've often made it in the past. During my online wanders I also discovered something called Black-Bottom Cupcakes from Chez Panisse pastry chef David Lebovitz on the Leite's Culinaria website so took down the details for those too. Just as well, as there wasn't a jar of cherry jam to be had in Pack'N'Save supermarket for love nor money so I got some cream cheese instead and determined to make the Black-Bottom Cupcakes (although, personally, I still call 'em queencakes).

Chocolate Queencakes I came home and got stuck into the recipe in double quick time. They're pretty simple to make - a rich chocolate muffin mix on the (black) bottom with a tangy cream cheese topping. But I wasn't altogether happy with the results (top photo) - my cream cheese topping bubbled all over the top and didn't look anything as good as Mr Lebovitz's creations. Still, looks might not have been that important if the taste was ok but I made the mistake of having one hot from the oven and, as a result, could only taste heat. The following morning I had to reconsider my too-hasty judgement as the Black-Bottom Queencakes proved that looks aren't everything and that the juxtaposition of intense chocolate base and the light, almost cheesecake-type topping was a sure-fire winner.

That night, though, things weren't looking good. I was lucky, it being Thursday, I had a date with the Boyfriend to hit the late night shopping at Northlands Shopping Centre. When we arrived there I realised that Countdown, not being a bare basics supermarket like Pack'N'Save, just might have cherry jam - and it did. So I came home from the shopping centre and made another batch of queencakes, this time Nigella's Chocolate Cherry ones (middle photo). It was getting late by the time I finished up but they had to be iced so I spoke to family in Ireland on the phone as I worked - no point in wasting time!

A box of queencakes ready to go to work In the end I took some of both types into work and I didn't hear any complaints. The Chocolate Cherry Queencakes transformed a jar of cherry jam into something perfect for morning tea, or even desert. They lasted well in an airtight container for a few days, getting slightly moister, in a good way, as time went on. Black-Bottom Queencakes weren't as good at keeping - but they didn't need to be. The next time I make these I don't think I'll fill the bun cases as much and hopefully I'll manage to get some better looking Black-Bottoms!

Chocolate Cherry Queencakes
Soft unsalted butter - 125g
Dark chocolate - 100g, broken into pieces
Cherry jam - 300g
Caster sugar - 150g
Salt - a pinch
Eggs - 2 large, beaten
Self-raising flour - 150g

Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F. Get two sets of bun tins ready and lined with bun cases.

Put the butter in a heavy-bottomed pan on the heat to melt. When nearly completely melted, stir in the chocolate. Leave for a moment to begin softening, then take the pan off the heat and stir with a wooden spoon until the butter and chocolate are smooth and melted. Now add the cherry jam, sugar, salt and eggs. Stir with a wooden spoon and when all is pretty well amalgamated stir in the flour.

Scrape and pour into the bun papers in their tins and bake for 25 minutes. Cool in the pan on a rack for 10 minutes before turning out.

[Nigella says that she normally gets a dozen out of this mixture, for me it was more like 18.]

Icing:
Dark chocolate - 100g
Double cream - 100ml
Glace cherries

When the queencakes are cool, break the chocolate for the icing into little pieces and add them to the cream in a saucepan. Bring to the boil, remove from the heat and then whisk until thick and smooth. Ice the cupcakes, smoothing the tops with the back of a spoon, and stand a cherry in the centre of each.

Adapted from How To Be A Domestic Goddess by Nigella Lawson.

The recipe for Black-Bottom Cupcakes is available online here.

Posted by Caroline at 10:11 AM | Comments (2)

May 24, 2005

The Restaurant: Food and Wine from the TV Series ***

The Restaurant While I was still in Ireland when The Restaurant programme started, the lack of a television set precluded me from actually seeing the stars in action but the recently published book of the series gives a good picture of how it worked. Each week The Restaurant played host to a celebrity chef who planned the menu, chose the wine and, together with what must have been the long-suffering kitchen staff, cooked the meal. The diners - including a selection of critics - are not told who the chef is until they have given their verdict on the meal and, from some of the comments in The Restaurant book, did not mince their words.

The book seems to be structured along the lines of the programme. Each chapter comprises of the celebrity chef talking about the pros and cons of their Restaurant experience, an introduction to the guest critic, the menu and what the critics had to say about it, some notes about the wine chosen and recipes for three dishes.

As a picture of a time and a place in Irish public life it is a fascinating document. The brave participants ranged from RTÉ news reporter Charlie Bird to writer and comedian Brendan O'Carroll, horse trainer Ted Walsh, Senator Mary O'Rourke and chick fic author Cathy Kelly. Their assessment of the day is interesting and it was surprising how many of the guest chefs would re-visit the experience.

As a recipe book it works surprisingly well. While there are definitely things that I can't seen myself ever trying out - Brendan O'Carroll's Sole aux Bananes, for instance - there are plenty of recipes that I will definitely use. O'Carroll's Swiss Apple Pie looked like a winner, Charlie Bird's Slow-Boiled Ham in Spiced Cider is a must-try, Joe Duffy's Cardamon Cream sounds like a great combination and I loved Paul Costello's grouping of Black Pudding and Red Onion Marmalade. Being a confirmed non-potato eater, I was unimpressed with their reliance on spuds, but I suppose it was to be expected in a country like Ireland! The regular occurrence of rhubarb on the menu was a welcome surprise as was George Hook's inclusion of those great Cork offal dishes, tripe and drisheen. On the minus side, it seems that Tracy Piggott was the only presenter to realise the importance of ingredients, placing a lot of emphasis on the quality of the raw produce she used.

Although it is a bit of a mixed bag, The Restaurant: Food and Wine from the TV Series is an entertaining read - and you just might walk away from the experience with a new favourite recipe.

The Restaurant: Food and Wine from the TV Series is published by Poolbeg.

Posted by Caroline at 11:00 AM | Comments (2)

May 23, 2005

Donna Hay and Anzac Biscuit alternatives

The name Donna Hay is not an unfamiliar one on the Irish side of the world but in Australia and New Zealand she's more than just a writer of minimalist cookery books, she's a cooking brand in herself. The Donna Hay Magazine, like Cuisine, comes out every two months and it truly is a lavish production. Beautifully styled, impeccably photographed, what Ms Hay is selling are not mere recipes but a lifestyle. She truly is the Martha Stewart of the Antipodes.

In this month's edition, for instance, there's an article on the Great Outdoors - late autumn camping in the perfect wood with the perfect campfire dishes and perfect photogenic family - a feature on Mother's Day, treating "Mum to the things she loves for breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea" (perfect photogenic family #2 with supportive Dad seen taking an active part in the kitchen); a rustic layout for a variety of savoury pies, complete with old, well used chopping boards, dishes and serving spoons - the walls and doors in the background even look authentically battered, peeling paint and all. But, wade through all the fictional set-ups, and there are some fantastic recipes to be found.

I know it's not long since I was extolling the virtues of Anzac Biscuits but Donna Hay has provided me with an addition to my range of quick, easy biscuits that will sit happily in a sealed container until we get around to eating them or taking them to work for lunch. Leafing my way through the Great Outdoors article I discovered a recipe for Oaty Apricot Biscuits which are made in a similar easy way as the Anzac Biscuits, and their ingredients contain some of my favourite things - oats, apricots, ground almonds and even maple syrup. They had to be tried! These Oaty Apricot Biscuits have a more chewy texture than the Anzac Biscuits - oaty, undoubtedly, but enlivened with the chunks of chopped dried apricot distributed throughout - plus they are happy to sit in a box until needed. I think this is a recipe that I'll be sticking with. I wonder what would happen if I put chocolate chips into the mix?

Oaty Apricot Biscuits
Rolled oats - 1 cup
Plain flour - 1 cup
Ground almonds - ¾ cup
Dried apricots - ½ cup, chopped
Caster sugar - ¾ cup
Butter - 125g
Maple syrup - ¼ cup
Baking or bread soda - ½ teaspoon
Hot water - 1 tablespoon

Preheat the oven to 160°C/320°F. Melt the butter and maple syrup in a saucepan over low heat. Put the oats, flour, ground almonds, apricots and sugar in a bowl. Mix the bread soda and water and add to the butter mixture. Pour into the dry ingredients and mix well.

Place teaspoons of the mixture on greased baking trays, spaced well apart, and flatten with a fork dipped in cold water. Cook for 10-15 minutes until golden brown.

Posted by Caroline at 12:21 PM | Comments (0)

May 20, 2005

Vegetable soup - take two

Vegetable Soup at the seaside A weekend by the sea in autumn is the perfect time for soups. What better lunch, especially eaten by the fire as you gaze out the window at the rolling grey sea. Although it's not especially cold, you feel like wrapping up warmly and doing the winter thing - and all the things you need for soup have managed to make it out of your city house and accompany you. So, never mind recipe books, this is something that can be made in minutes from some vegetables you have at hand.

Firstly, chop up a couple of onions. We're not talking slivers here but chunks, of a size that you won't mind eating when the soup is done. No liquidiser or food processor here. Throw them into a big pan that's been warming some olive oil and cook over a medium heat while you get on with the chopping.

Enlist the Boyfriend to chop up and thoroughly wash a leek while you peel and chop two carrots. Again, you don't want pieces that are too big, 1cm cubes are good. Give the onions a stir and throw in a couple of chopped rashers of bacon. Make sure everything is sizzling nicely. You want the onions to soften and sweeten in the cooking. When you see that the onions and bacon are looking good, add the chopped carrots and leek. Give it all a good stir, a couple of minutes to come back to sizzle status, and then add enough water to cover the vegetables. Put the lid on the pot and let it come to the boil.

If you've got beans to add - in this case I had some pre-cooked black-eyed beans - throw half of them in intact and mash the other half before adding them. To further thicken the brew I threw in a couple of handfuls of red split lentils which, after a little time cooking, melt into the liquid. Because I had no stock, I was relying on the bacon to give a bit of taste to the soup but added a couple of bay leaves and a pinch of dried thyme as well.

Clamp the lid back on the pot again and let bubble away gently for at least half-an-hour. If you've a few good tomatoes lying around the house, chop them well and throw them into the pot. Taste and season well. This soup needs a lot more salt than you would think and a good spot of freshly ground black pepper. If you have spinach or silverbeet nearby, get the Boyfriend to wash and chop several leaves after he's done the leeks. It won't mind hanging around and if it's not out then you won't remember to put it in to the soup. Add for the last five minutes of cooking and, when done, serve the soup with plenty of hot buttered toast. There's probably enough here for two day's lunches, unless you've got an awful hunger on you from the sea air. And you can feel smugly virtuous as you eat your multi-textured lunch, full of goodness. As my father would say, "there's eating and drinking in it".

Posted by Caroline at 6:07 PM | Comments (2)

May 18, 2005

One-pan dinners

Pan Couscous with Chorizo and Green Beans Heading away for a long weekend to a bach (Kiwi for holiday home) by the sea tends to concentrate the mind when it comes to cooking. You know you'll have to bring all your supplies with you, the local shop will probably be five miles down the road and that you'll be having to cook on an unfamiliar cooker with unfamiliar, probably unwieldy, equipment. So it would be a good idea to cook some things that don't involve much in the line of pots and pans.

As I was thinking along those lines, an article on one-pan dinners in last month's edition of the beautifully photographed and styled Donna Hay Magazine caught my eye. What better idea for a theoretical chill-out weekend? The recipe for Pan Couscous with Chorizo and Green Beans sounded like a winner so, before we left the city, I made a stop at the fantastic Peter Timbs Butchers in Edgeware to get some chorizo and also, on a quick trip to the St Albans Market, grabbed a bag of green beans. I've become a huge fan of green beans since discovering how good they taste fresh, just cooked for enough time to still have a bite on them. It's a long way from the sliced frozen sort.

Trying to get organised with food packing, I made a list some days before we left and then managed to only look at it when in the car, to discover exactly how many things I'd managed to forget or leave behind in the fridge. Luckily the local shop in Cheviot was able to fill most gaps but it was only when I started cooking that I realised how many other foodstuffs that I hadn't supplied. Like garlic, for instance. Sometimes I wonder should I be left out of the house at all!

Despite all the odds stacked against it - having to use two pans as the first one wouldn't work, only discovering how to work the tiny cooker properly the following day, lack of garlic - this recipe worked a treat, albeit not as photogenic as the DH version. In theory, and probably in my own kitchen, it could actually work as a one-pan option. Don't dismiss the lemon wedges as an optional extra, as I almost did, as they give a sharpness to what otherwise could be a rather heavy dish. Just perfect for those winter nights by the fire - wherever you are.

Bach kitchen A typical bach kitchen. Note the 'compact' layout...


Pan Couscous with Chorizo and Green Beans
Olive oil - 1 tablespoon
Red onion - 1, chopped
Garlic - 1 clove, finely chopped
Fresh red chilli - 1, deseeded and finely chopped
Mushrooms - 100g, chopped
Chorizo sausage - 1, chopped
Chopped canned tomatoes - 1
Water - 2 cups or 500ml
Green beans - 100g, cut into bite sized pieces
Couscous - 1 cup
Lemon wedges, salt and pepper

Heat the oil in a deep frying pan over medium heat. Put the onion, garlic, chilli, mushrooms and chorizo in the pan and fry for 5-6 minutes then add the canned tomatoes, water and green beans. Sprinkle the couscous over, season with salt and pepper, cover with a lid and leave to simmer on a low heat for about 6-8 minutes. Make sure the liquids have been absorbed and the beans are cooked to your taste. Serve with the lemon. Serves 2.

Posted by Caroline at 8:11 PM | Comments (0)

May 17, 2005

A mushroom hunt

A terribly blurred picture of a birch bolete One of my fondest autumn memories from childhood is of my siblings, my cousins and myself as small children, bundled up in warm coats and wellies (aka gumboots in NZ), being handed a couple of buckets by the adults and sent down my grandparents' farm in Oldcastletown to go mushroom picking. After listening to their admonitions to avoid the field with the bull and to look after the smaller kids, we tramped down to the place where there had been a confirmed sighting of mushrooms.

Leaving the buckets down, we - there may have been six of us at times - spread out and looked for those small patches of white that denoted a successful hunt. Sometimes we'd only find a couple of wee ones. Other days we came back up to the house with a good haul and then there would be mushrooms for supper, cooked on the stalwart Aga cooker that presided over the centre of the kitchen. My Nana occasionally made a slow cooked mushroom soup if we got particularly lucky. The Aga was great for quick cooking too and occasionally one of my uncles would put a whole, peeled mushroom directly on its hotplate 'till it sizzled, popping it into his mouth before the juices escaped.

While I've been mushroom hunting down the fields at home in recent years, there's never been the largess that I remember from my childhood. Maybe it's the fertilizer used on the fields these days? But my interest was sparked again when I read of a mushroom hunt in some woods near Dublin last autumn. We were away the weekend it took place but it did remind me of the fact that field mushrooms aren't the only edible ones.

Among my birthday presents from the Boyfriend this year were a pair of books - Mushrooms and Other Fungi of New Zealand (Reed) and A Field Guide to the Native Edible Plants of New Zealand (Penguin). Of course, these had to be used straight away and luckily Sunday was a bright and sunny day. On a supermarket stop, we called into the gift shop in Cheviot and I got talking to the lady who works there. When, at some late stage in the conversation (we had already covered my tenure in NZ, employment in the town, the beautiful colours of trees in the area and her Cork-born great grandmother), I mentioned that the Boyfriend and I were going mushroom hunting she told me that someone had been in lately with a porcini from underneath the silver birch in the grounds of the old church. We needed no second telling!

Armed with our books, we started looking in the fallen leaves underneath the silver birch and discovered about seven examples of what the book called Birch Bolete, Leccinum scabrum in its Latin incarnation (you can see a - very blurred - picture of one of our pickings at the top of the page). Encouraged by this success we went looking in the nearby Domain but, despite the gorgeous autumn colours of the oak trees, there were no mushrooms there. I did come across a puffball by the cricket grounds but it wasn't enough for even a mouthful so it survived our mushroom-picking expedition.

On the way home the Boyfriend had me looking out the window of the car in case one got away. In this manner we also managed to find a past-its-prime shaggy ink cap and some poisonous Gymnophilus junonius (I'm sure I'm going to remember that name!). Once home, we peeled and chopped the mushrooms then fried them in butter and piled them onto some toasted challah bread. To our disappointment they didn't taste acutely mushroomy but the real satisfaction came from having found them ourselves.

Although we were pretty sure that they weren't the Death Cap or any poisonous mushroom we still took the precaution of only eating half that night and, when we found ourselves still alive and without any untoward effects the following day, ate the rest for lunch. The books have now taken up permanent residence in the car so I feel that the rest of this Atipodean autumn is going to be enlivened with frequent mushroom stops!

Posted by Caroline at 8:13 PM | Comments (2)

May 16, 2005

Anzac Biscuits revisited

Since the day itself I've cooked Anzac Biscuits a couple of times. They seem to be the kind of biscuit that doesn't really know how to go off, getting slightly more chewy after the first day they're baked but none the less tasty for that. Quick and easy to put together, involving no specialist equipment (by which, at the moment, I mean an electric mixer or food processor), the reward of having a wire tray-load of Anzac Biscuits cooling far outweighs the effort of making them. With their mixture of oats and coconut they're a great pick-me-up for that mid-afternoon slump and are a perfect addition to lunchboxes. So simple, so easy, and with a long shelf life - what more could you want in a biscuit?

Posted by Caroline at 6:05 PM | Comments (0)

May 12, 2005

Savour New Zealand: News stories

A few more news stories from Savour NZ...

Scoop.co.nz: They Came, They Saw, They Savoured New Zealand

Christchurch Star: Bon Appetit with Mavis Airey

Salient: CLASS, MASTER

Posted by Caroline at 2:03 PM | Comments (0)

May 11, 2005

Wonderful walnuts

Yummy walnuts Walnuts in New Zealand are fantastic. Not only can you buy the boutique, high-quality nuts that are widely grown in this country - there's even a Christchurch-based grower and processor that glories in the name A Cracker of a Nut - but even the imports are of a far better quality than we normally see in Ireland.

I buy most of my baking needs from loose bins at the supermarket - what I describe as a way of seeing what you need and then buying too much of it! Still, there are advantages in almost always having supplies in the house for those times that I feel like putting wooden spoon to bowl. It is from these bins that I buy walnuts so, whether it's the high turnover or just better quality imports, the nuts I buy are never rancid - something that was the bane of my life with pre-packaged walnuts in Ireland. As a result I've come to realise that walnuts in this country are reliable, tasty and versatile.

I have always used walnuts in my recipe for Chocolate Brownies but now I'm starting to branch out and use them in other ways. The other day I had a yearning for a pecan pie but thought that it would be interesting to try making it with walnuts. In my continuing efforts to find tasty uses for my bottle of real maple syrup I also decided to substitute maple syrup for the corn syrup used in pecan pie recipes. Also, because I love the combination, I threw in some cinnamon. Despite me taking a short cut and not pre-cooking the pastry tart case before I added the filling, with the result that the case leaked, the end result left little to be desired (apart, maybe, from keeping all its filling internally the next time!). The tart had the authentic stickyness that I love in pecan pies but the combination of crunchy walnuts, sweet maple syrup and spicy cinnamon was a good twist on an old favourite.

Walnut Maple Tart
9-inch pre-baked pastry case
Butter - ¼ cup
Maple syrup - 1 cup
Eggs - 3
Sugar - ¹/3 cup
Salt - ¼ teaspoon
Cinnamon - ½ teaspoon
Walnuts - 1 cup

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Heat the butter and maple syrup over a low heat until just melted. Allow to stand for a few minutes. Beat eggs together with sugar, salt and cinnamon. Add cooled butter and maple syrup and mix well. Sprinkle walnuts over base of tart case and pour over filling mixture. Bake for 30-40 minutes until filling has set. Serve warm with whipped cream.

Posted by Caroline at 9:13 PM | Comments (0)

May 9, 2005

Winter warmers

Beef and Orange Stew In New Zealand supermarkets I've been interested to see that there are stickers on all the pre-packed meat, saying whether that particular cut is good for grilling or stewing. I have always loved stews and casseroles - ways of getting the best from the cheap cuts - but never been very clear on which bits of the animals are the best for this type of cooking.

NZ supermarkets take all the guesswork out of this kind of shopping for which I have been devoutly grateful and, as a result, I've been having lots of fun experimenting with all kinds of cheap meats. I've had a lot of success with lamb dishes so far but the other night was the first time I've tried cooking beef.

I had picked up a copy of American magazine Bon Appétit earlier in the day and found a recipe for a type of spicy beef stew. Although I scaled the quantities of the spices and orange down in my original dish they were nearly too overwhelming so in this recipe I've reduced them a little more. I think the main problem was the fact that I've no zester and had to use a vegetable peeler on the orange. Even a small amount of white pith results in bitterness as I learned to my cost! It didn't stop the Boyfriend and myself from enjoying it though...

Beef and Orange Stew
Stewing beef - 500g, cubed
Olive oil - 2 tablespoons
Plain flour - 3 tablespoons
Water - 750mls
Red wine - 250mls
Carrots - 2, peeled and cut into 1cm rounds
Onions - 2 medium, chopped
Whole cloves - 5
Bay leaves - 2, chopped
Garlic cloves - 2
Fresh thyme - 1 bunch
Orange zest - 1 teaspoon
Chopped canned tomatoes - 1 x 400g

Preheat oven to 325°F. Heat oil in large frying pan. Sprinkle both sides of the meat with flour and brown it, in a couple of batches, in the hot pan. Place in casserole dish. Fry onions and garlic in pan until beginning to soften then deglaze with the water. Pour contents of pan over the meat. Add the wine, onions, cloves, bay leaves, garlic, thyme, orange zest and tin of tomatoes. Place casserole in the oven and cook for 1½ - 2 hours, until meat is tender.

Posted by Caroline at 9:07 PM | Comments (0)

May 8, 2005

Day two: Savour New Zealand

Another four Savour New Zealand classes down and we're now at the end of what was truly a magnificent weekend. Today I started with A Well Seasoned Appetite (Darryl Maffey and Simon Gault), afterwards wandering into Cooking the Catch with Al Brown of Wellington's Logan Brown restaurant. We broke for lunch at 12.15pm - not that too many people could have been hungry at that stage after spending the morning eating tasters from the demonstrations! - and then my afternoon was spent at Stephanie Alexander's presentation, The Kitchen Garden, and Anthony Bourdain's opinionated lecture about French food, Charlie Trotter, roasted crispy pig tail and the evil clown that is Ronald McDonald - a very loose interpretation of the Classically Inspired title of his session.

Although I got to eight classes over the weekend, there were another eight that I would have loved to attend, particularly the fascinating-sounding wine events. At this rate I might even have to make sure that I'm in the country for Savour New Zealand 2007.

Most inspiring presenter: Stephanie Alexander with her absolute passion for and belief in the importance of bringing a programme of gardening, cooking and eating to children at primary school level.

Most entertaining presenter: Undoubtedly Anthony Bourdain. He is a showman and agent provocateur extradionaire and one of his best quotes, during a debate about healthy food, was: "I don't see my body as a temple, I see it as an amusement park."

Most frantic class: A Well Seasoned Appetite, presented by Darryl Maffey and Simon Gault who got through an impressive, if hasty, total of ten Spanish and Italian dishes in just 60 minutes.

Most relaxed class: Al Brown's Cooking the Catch. Just two complex but totally delicious dishes - Seared Scampi Tails with Fresh Wasabi Panna Cotta, Green Olive Lime Salsa and Cabernet Syrup (that was the first one!) and Paua Ravioli with Basil, Coriander and Lime Beurre Blanc.

New things I've tasted: New Zealand shelfish paua, quail eggs, pure Wasabi from Canterbury, rabbit, Mexican mole sauce (a chilli and chocolate sauce served over turkey or chicken), Eight Moon Saffron grown near Christchurch.

Things I learned over the weekend: a new method of steaming salmon on a bed of rosemary (Patricia Wells - Bistro Cooking); how to prepare a paua steak for cooking (Al Brown - Cooking the Catch); how wet a Pain au Levain dough should be before you start kneading it (Dean Brettschneider - Knead the Bread); that you should check the temperature of chocolate with the bottom of your lip instead of your tongue, although you should use a thermometer for preference (Richard Hingston - Craving Chocolate). Oh, and that if Anthony Bourdain had to choose between Gordon Ramsey and Jamie Oliver as a cellmate, he'd pick Jamie "because he would make a fine-looking girlfriend!" (Anthony Bourdain - Classically Inspired).

Posted by Caroline at 9:50 PM | Comments (0)

Day one: Savour New Zealand - the story so far

Savour New Zealand One day down but one more to go - will I be still standing at the end of it? Yesterday was the first day of Savour New Zealand and it had to be experienced to be believed. I took four from a choice of sixteen masterclasses. The sessions may only have been an hour long but the chefs and cooks managed to get through a huge amount in that space of time. As they prepared dishes in front of the audience there was a kitchen frantically working backstage to produce and send out individual tastings of each dish. With an average of two tastings to each of the classes - and that's not to mention the accompanying wine - it's no wonder that I'm having a breakfast of lemon and ginger tea this morning! I don't have much time as it all kicks off at 9.30am again but see below for some highlights.

Things I tasted: Patricia Wells' Six Minute Salmon with Rosemary at 9.55am (Bistro Cooking); Chicken with Mole Sauce, Chocolate Tart (Craving Chocolate); Dean Brettschneider's fabulous Sourdough bread (Knead the Dough); Rabbit Bistayeea and Sauteed King Prawns with Ras El Hanour, Angel Hair Pasta and Lentil Vinaigrette from Greg Malouf (Middle Eastern Magic). And that's not to forget the fabulous seafood lunch courtesy of Pacific Catch - a freshly shucked Bluff oyster for starters followed by divinely coloured Seafood and Saffron Stew with Garlic and Parsley Scones. If you were hungry after that there was a lemon cake placed on each table. All those dishes, of course, came with accompanying wine.

Chefs and cooks I met: I interviewed three people yesterday. Greg Malouf talked to me about the month he just spent in the Lebanon and Syria, Dean Brettschneider shared his crusading-like zeal for teaching people about bread and Anthony Bourdain was undoubtedly much nicer than he comes across in his books! These interviews will all appear on the site - just as soon as I've a chance to transcribe them.

Cookbooks I now want to buy: I own all of Anthony Bourdain's books already - but they're in Ireland. Not very helpful if you want someone to sign your copy. Thanks to the Christchurch library I am familiar with books by many of the presenters but that doesn't stop my dawdling in the on-site bookshop! Dean Brettschneider has three books out and the newest one, Taste - Baking with Flavour, is something that I'd like to get my hands on soon. I have been fascinated by Greg Malouf's first two books - Arabesque and Moorish - and am looking forward to his new one, to be released in November. I think Patricia Wells' Bistro is going to be added to my collection at some stage soon and maybe, along with that, her James Beard award-winning The Provence Cookbook.

Time to get out the door - let day two begin!

Posted by Caroline at 8:29 AM | Comments (2)

May 5, 2005

Cookbook author Patricia Wells

Earlier today I discovered that Patricia Wells, the American-born Paris and Provence dweller, has won a James Beard award, in the International category, for her Provence Cookbook. I've just finished reading two of her cookbooks - At Home in Provence and The Paris Cookbook - in preparation for her bistro class this weekend at Savour New Zealand and I'm very intrigued about the food that she's going to cook.

It's not that I've had much exposure to French bistro cookery but what I have encountered while on brief visits to France - and now through Patricia's books - has given me the inkling that this is food that I'll enjoy. Full flavoured, seasonal and of the terrior (meaning the taste of place), bistro cooking is something that very much appeals to me.

In her books Patricia is an active supporter and promoter of small producers, giving the names and addresses of many in both Paris and Provence. We may not all be able to visit and purchase from these specific people but most of us have access to something similar in our own areas of the world. Little markets, like the St Albans Market, enable you to discover the small producers in your own locality. It's worth exploring - without interested consumers they're going to have a hard time of it. And who knows what you may find!

Posted by Caroline at 5:22 PM | Comments (2)

May 4, 2005

An Indian feast

Mughlai Chicken We were having five people over for dinner on Saturday night and, as I was digging through the cookbooks looking for inspiration, the Boyfriend asked if I had ever cooked an Indian curry from first principles. Well, with a challenge like that it didn't take me too long to dig out a few recipes that I'd been wanting to try. Indian food was particularly appropriate seeing as two of the guests - the Canadian girl and the Cobh boy - are heading off to India in November and, as they're leaving Christchurch soon, this meal was in their honour.

Normally I don't have much time for starters but when we were at the supermarket we picked up a couple of packets of poppadums and decided to serve them with some of our Lady Rose relish from the Saturday St Albans Market. The Boyfriend took over cooking or, rather, frying duties on the poppadums as I prepared desert (Feijoa and Apple Crumble) and thoroughly enjoyed himself. Once the oil is hot enough, the poppadums cooked in seconds and the major problem was making sure that they didn't burn. I thought they might be oily but, after spending draining on a few pieces of kitchen towel, they were fine - I've had far greasier ones from real Indian restaurants.

As regards the main course, the first thing I wanted to try out was a recipe from Nigella's Feast for what she calls Mughali Chicken, a creamy almondy curry with a slow chilli burn. She uses a food processor to blend the ginger, garlic, cumin, coriander and chilli to a paste but who would need one of those when they've got their perfect pestle and mortar on hand? Unusually for me, I actually followed the recipe - apart from her addition of sultanas. There's something about finding sultanas in savoury dishes that just doesn't sit right with me. To accompany the pale elegance of the Mughali Chicken I also decided to cook a Chickpea and Tomato Curry adapted from a wee Family Circle Step-By-Step Indian Cooking book that I picked up for 50c in the charity shop (a surprisingly good resource). Just in case anyone would be hungry after that, I found a recipe for Cauliflower with Roasted Cumin in Tamasin Day-Lewis' evocative West of Ireland Summers and fiddled with that until it was to my liking. With all those, and a massive pot of basmati rice, piled on the table there nearly wasn't any room for the plates. But we managed...

Mughali Chicken
Fresh ginger - 2.5cm, peeled
Garlic - 4 cloves, peeled
Ground Cumin - 2 teaspoons
Ground Coriander - 1 teaspoon
Dried chilli - ½ teaspoon
Ground almonds - 4 tablespoons
Water - 125ml
Cardamom pods - 5, bruised
Cinnamon stick - 1, broken in half
Bay leaves - 2
Cloves - 4
Vegetable oil - 4 tablespoons
Boned and skinned chicken thighs - 1.5kg, each cut into 2 pieces
Onions - 2, finely chopped
Greek yoghurt - 250ml
Chicken stock - 250ml
Double cream - 125ml
Garam masala - 1 teaspoon
Caster sugar - 1 tablespoon
Salt - 1 teaspoon
Flaked almonds - 75g, toasted

Blend the ginger, garlic, cumin, coriander and chilli to a paste using a pestle and mortar. Add the ground almonds and water and stir. Set aside. Measure the cardamom pods, cinnamon stick, bay leaves and cloves into a handy little bowl. Heat the oil in a large pan and add the chicken pieces in batches. Cook long enough to seal on both sides then remove to a dish.

Tip the bowl of spices into the pan and sizzle for a minute. Add the onions and cook over a gentle heat until softened and lightly browned. Stir frequently. Pour in the blended spicy paste and cook until it starts to colour. Add the yoghurt, 125ml at a time, mixing it in well. Stir in the stock and cream. Put the browned chicken pieces, and any juices collected underneath them, into the pan. Sprinkle over the garam masala, sugar and salt and stir into the sauce. Cover and cook on a gentle heat for 20 minutes before testing to see if the chicken meat is cooked through.

[It is at this stage, apparently, that the curry can be taken off the heat, left to cool and reheated the next day. Needless to say, I wasn't that organised.]

Serve scattered with the toasted almonds.


Chickpea and Tomato Curry Chickpea and Tomato Curry
Chickpeas - 2 x 400g cans, drained
Onions - 2, finely chopped
Fresh ginger - 2cm, peeled and grated
Garlic - 2 cloves, peeled and finely chopped
Red chillies - 2, seeded and finely chopped
Turmeric - ½ teaspoon
Vegetable oil - 2 tablespoons
Tinned tomatoes - 2 x 400g cans
Ground coriander - 1 tablespoon
Ground cumin - 2 teaspoons
Garam masala - 2 teaspoons
Lemon - ½
Fresh coriander - small bunch

Cook the onions, ginger, garlic, chillies and tumeric in the oil until softened and golden. Add the chickpeas, tinned tomatoes, ground coriander and ground cumin. Cook over a low heat for 20 minutes. Sprinkle over garam masala and lemon juice and let simmer for another 10 minutes. Strew with fresh coriander before serving.


Cauliflower with Roasted Cumin Cauliflower with Roasted Cumin
Vegetable oil - 2 tablespoons
Cumin seeds - 1 tablespoon
Black or yellow mustard seeds - 1 tablespoon
Cauliflower - 1 large head, broken into florets
Ground cumin - ½ teaspoon
Ground coriander - ½ teaspoon
Ground turmeric - ½ teaspoon
Red chilli - 1, seeded and chopped
Frozen peas - 50g
Salt

Heat the oil in a large frying pan and, when hot, add the cumin and mustard seeds. Let sizzle for a few seconds before putting the cauliflower into the pan and stirring to coat. Add a splash of water, put on the lid, turn the heat down and simmer for five minutes. Add the ground cumin, coriander, turmeric, chilli and peas. Season with salt and cook, uncovered, over a low heat for approximately five minutes until the cauliflower is cooked.

Posted by Caroline at 9:06 PM | Comments (3)

May 3, 2005

Nearly there...Savour New Zealand

Savour New Zealand The countdown is nearly over and this Friday sees the opening of the Christchurch based Savour New Zealand foodies masterclass - by NZ Prime Minister Helen Clark, no less. I can't imagine her Irish counterpart, Taoiseach Bertie Ahern, opening such a thing in Ireland unless, of course, it was a pub in Drumcondra and there was a pint of Guinness in it for him.

Since I've been here it has become glaringly obvious to me that Ireland lags badly behind New Zealand in terms of availability of good seasonal and regional produce; cooking ability - in most of the NZ cafés you will find food of a quality that's difficult to track down in Ireland (and there's no year-round sad little salads comprising of a piece of tasteless tomato, watery slice of cucumber and limp lettuce leaf); and sheer interest in food. You've only to walk into a newsagent to see the amount of foodie magazines available. New Zealand's Cuisine (out every second month) and Dish (quarterly) are among the best of them but there are plenty of others coming in from Australia and America as well.

So, with this in mind, Savour New Zealand looks like it is going to be a fascinating weekend with lots to see, hear and, hopefully, taste. Although the international cooks and writers - Anthony Bourdain, Patricia Wells, Stephanie Alexander - are getting the big press, there are plenty of interesting Kiwis on board too. From winemakers - Nigel Greening and his pinot noir (a wine that, for me, will be forever linked to Alexander Payne's hilarious and sad film Sideways), New Zealand's Mr Champagne Brett Newell, biodynamic wine producers James Millton and Nick Mills - to chefs like Auckland's Simon Gault, pastry chef Richard Hingston with his Craving Chocolate class and Christchurch's own Darryl Maffey from JDV Restaurant; plus cheesemakers (Katherine Mowbray) and restaurateurs (Judith Tabron of Soul Bar and Bistro in Auckland). Bi-location is beginning to sound like a good idea because there's no way I'm going to be able to make it to all the classes that I'm interested in. I've got till Friday to work on it anyway!

Other news stories on the web about Savour NZ
Scoop.co.nz: The Countdown is On To Savour New Zealand
Xtra MSN: Tempting Tastebuds In Christchurch
NZ Herald: Savour this master class
Stuff.co.nz: Eat, drink and make merry

Posted by Caroline at 8:42 PM | Comments (2)

May 1, 2005

Feijoa frenzy

Feijoas It's feijoa season! And what, you may ask, are feijoas? The first time I saw apple and feijoa juice for sale, not long after I arrived in New Zealand, I had no idea what it was. But, when the Boyfriend - apparently a feijoa fan - ordered it I made sure that I got a taste. It was a pleasantly refreshing drink with a strong flavour of apple but there were tropical undertones that I did not recognise. The hallmark of the feijoa, apparently, which has its own unique taste.

Intrigued, I did a little bit of research on feijoas and discovered that they're not indigenous to New Zealand but instead were brought here in from South American in the 1920s. The trees thrived and now New Zealand, along with California, is one of the few places that the fruit are grown commercially.

After I realised that autumn was the season for fresh feijoas, I've been keeping an eye out for them and, last weekend, I was intrigued to discover some green, egg-shaped fruits in the St Albans Market - they looked like small hairless kiwi fruit, although a different colour. I inquired of the stall owner as to what they were and discovered that these actually were the legendary feijoas. Priced at NZ$3 per kilo bag, I wasn't going home without them so I handed over my money and headed back to the wee house. The Boyfriend was very excited when I told him what I'd bought and he tackled several immediately. You eat feijoas just the same way you do kiwi fruit - or boiled eggs - cutting them in half and using a teaspoon to dig out the flesh.

I have to say that I wasn't hugely impressed with my first feijoa but since then, and seeing as we had a large bag to get through, I started to like them. They have a curious flavour, which is difficult to describe, although the American name for them - pineapple guava - does go some way towards summing up what the taste.

Last night I was having a few friends for dinner so I decided on crumble as the desert of choice. It's one of my favourite things to cook when people are coming round as it is one of those dishes that can be prepared in advance. All you have to do before sitting down to the main course is put the crumble on top of the fruit and land it in the oven. Normally I'm a big fan of Plum and Apple Crumble but, it being feijoa season and all, I decided to make a Feijoa and Apple Crumble. It turns out that feijoas - which can be bitter if unripe - take very well to crumble cooking. The flavour was much more developed by the heat and they married exceptionally well with the Brayburn apples that they were mixed with. It might be difficult find the feijoas for this exact recipe elsewhere in the world so I won't mind too much if you feel the need to substitute plums.

Feijoa and Apple Crumble
Feijoas - approx 200g
Apples - approx 500g
Sugar - approx 2 tablespoons, depending on how tart your apple is
Allspice - 1heaped teaspoon
Plain flour - 100g
Butter - 150g
Porridge oats - 100g
Demerara sugar - 100g
Salt - a pinch

Preheat the oven to 375°F/190°C. Cut the feijoas in half and scoop out the flesh. Peel, core and chop the apples. Mix the fruit together in a deep pyrex dish with a capacity of approximately 1.5 litres. Sprinkle with sugar and allspice and toss. Place in the oven to soften for 10 minutes while you get the crumble topping ready.

Rub the butter into the flour then add the oats, demerara sugar and salt and mix well. If you're ready to cook the crumble - but not beforehand - sprinkle the topping over the fruit, ensuring that it is well covered. Place in the oven and cook for 30-40 minutes until juices are bubbling around the edges and the crumble is brown and crisp. Serve hot or warm with greek yoghurt, cream or crème fraiche.

Posted by Caroline at 2:40 PM | Comments (1)

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© Caroline Hennessy 2007 and Bibliocook 2007