November 2005 Archives

Last Friday night in Dublin was miserable. Cold and raining, it was a night for staying by the fire but, with an impromptu cousin get-together happening, we were all out in town looking for a place to find a bit of food. A booking in Frank's Bar and Restaurant had to be abandoned when our party acquired another two people so these hungry wanderers made their way to the new food centre of George's Street. With a variety of restaurants lined up on both sides of the road, there had to be a place willing to take the six of us.

We ended up in Verona, an Italian restaurant long resident on Georges Street but which has undergone a swish new transformation in the last twelve months. Although the room itself was lovely and warm, a nasty draft persisted in following us in from the frequently opened door. But, at that stage in the evening, it really was any port in a storm and sometimes the restaurant doesn't matter half as much as the company - and there was no denying the quality of that!

The waitstaff were attentive and efficient while the food - pasta and pizzas - was a little pedestrian but where things started to take a turn for the worse was with the presentation of desert menus. The only deserts that they had on offer was that range of frozen ones which, as a teenager I thought was the height of sophistication, but now makes me wonder if the rest of my meal also made its way to the table from the freezer. We decided to pass on desert and went straight for coffee. As soon as my espresso arrived I could smell the burnt coffee beans. It was undrinkable. Not wanting to create a fuss - this seems to happen a lot to me around coffee! - I didn't, although I should have, mentioned it to the waitstaff. The pair who got regular coffee fared no better but the three who decided on Irish and Baileys coffees were more than happy with their choice, the alcohol masking any burnt flavour. But it was disappointing. In any restaurant, but especially an Italian one, there's no excuse for bad coffee.

I've learned my lesson. Future Friday nights in Dublin will definitely involve being more organised with group numbers and bookings!

Verona, George's Street, Dublin 2. Phone (01) 6793060

In the twelve months that I spent in New Zealand, most weekends of which were involved in exploring a variety of markets, there seems to have been a mushrooming of farmers' markets in Ireland. Or maybe it's that I'm more aware of it now! Last Saturday, after just two days in the country, and my mother suggested that we go to the Fermoy Farmers' Market. Although we only had the directions "it's down by the river" - and there are four sides to the river in Fermoy - we didn't have too much difficulty in finding the place where the stallholders had set up shop and plunged in.

It was a small market, just ten stalls but, as my little brother pointed out, we bought from eight of them. Amidst my jet lag and travel tiredness I didn't get anyone's names but I did enjoy chatting to many of the stallholders and I came away with some fabulous produce. Quality, rather than quantity, seems to be the key in this small but well-appointed market.

The spoils...
Sweet things - with a good try-before-you-buy policy, we purchased a couple of glorious chunky Mud Biscuits, a few Italian biscuits, pieces of an Oaty Apricot Crunch, Cheesecake and Lemon Slice. All fresh, homemade and very reasonable.
Cheese - a piece of young Cáis Dubh for the little brother and a chunk of the same, except more intensely mature, for myself from the lovely lady at Fermoy Natural Cheeses.
Bread - a sundried tomato loaf and a lovely big loaf of Brown Soda Bread.
Eggs - you can't go wrong with a dozen free range eggs for €3.
Plants - organically grown Welsh onions and flat leaf parsley from a very interesting man with plenty of knowledge to share.
Fruit and vegetables - bags and bags worth, although I don't think that they actually grow any pineapples around the Fermoy area!
Marmalade - a bitter sugar-free orange marmalade.
Sausages and pudding - this stall had a variety of sausages so we bought a pair of each. They looked distinctively different when raw but when we cooked them that night it not so easy to distinguish the Cumberland from the garlic and herb. All tasty, though, and the portion of black and white pudding that we bought was especially good. I've been missing decent black pudding over the last year.

Well, all good things come to an end at some stage. I've left New Zealand - not without many regrets - to return to my job in Ireland. I will continue writing about food from this side of the world with, perhaps after my 12 months away, a new perspective on what I may have formerly taken for granted. Nor have I abandoned New Zealand totally. I intend to go back at some stage in, I hope, the not-too-distant future and today I paid for a subscription to my beloved Cuisine magazine. I'll need something summery to keep me going through the grey Irish winter! It's been a fabulous year, getting to know the Boyfriend's country, friends and family and New Zealand food has been a true eye opener.

Things I'm going to miss...

Coming across some raw chorizo sausage recently at Verkerks' butchers I decided to try out one of the recipes from the Mediterranean Café's Tapas Evening. I also wanted to try out the Spanish smoked paprika that Chef Nik had used with such success that night but, naturally, the recipe sheet had disappeared. Still, if I've something in my mind, I don't normally let something small like the lack of a recipe dissuade me.

I assessed the situation. I had the aforementioned chorizo and smoked paprika, there were some chickpeas in the freezer and a bag of fresh spinach that I wanted to use before it started wilting. I ended up making a Chickpea and Chorizo Stew which, when I finally did regain my recipe sheet, bore no resemblance whatsoever to what Nik had made. His recipe included giant white Spanish beans, a red pepper and no chilli. But, despite the bastardisation, my recipe was a resounding success with the Boyfriend's sister, who had called over for dinner, and the Boyfriend himself and they demanded that I record it as it was.

As with all spicy dishes, this tastes even better the day after it is made. For that night's dinner I served it hot, with plain rice, and the following day it was delicious at room temperature, on top of toasted sourdough bread and soft homemade goat's cheese.

A note on chorizo: I had only ever used the dried chorizo - a spicy, paprika-infused sausage before I discovered its raw cousin at Verkerks. If the dried one is the only one that you can find, it is better to add it later in the cooking process so that it doesn't dry out and become tough.

Although cursed with an uninviting cover, Last Chance to Eat, with its investigations into the history and eating of a variety of foodstuffs, is a fascinating read for anyone with even the barest interest in food. For foodies, it should be essential.

Toronto-based Gina Mallet uses her particular memories - a post-WWII childhood in egg-less Britain, life in a Connecticut fishing village, dates at a New York steakhouse - to expand on the universal food issues. The daughter of a food-loving Englishman and his free-spirited American wife, she quotes from obscure experts and modern scientists in her quest to discover where the good food came from - and where it has disappeared to.

Using her evocatively sensual descriptions of food from the past as a counterpoint, she picks her way through the nutritional minefield of the present, exploring the issues of raw milk cheese, the importance of the egg in cooking, BSE scares, the demise of vegetable and fruit varieties, and exploring the vagaries of the fishing industry.

Erudite and entertaining, Last Chance to Eat is a thought provoking read.

Last Chance to Eat: The Fate of Taste in a Fast Food World by Gina Mallet is published by Norton

The Middle Eastern soup Harira has cropped up in several of the different cookbooks and magazines that I've been reading lately. It's a thick, near solid, nourishing soup (it can be so thick that it's close to getting called a stew!) which was traditionally served to break the Muslim fast during the month of Ramadan but what drew me to it was the fact that it combines both chickpeas and lentils - two of my favourite ingredients. Most recipes also include lamb but, due to my lack of funds when I made this, my soup was almost vegetarian, save for the chicken stock.

The most expensive ingredient in this soup is the delicate saffron - the hand-picked stamens of a certain type of crocus - but it is worth going for broke with this spice as any cheap powdered options are unlikely to be true saffron. Saffron is actually grown in Canterbury by the personable Errol Hitt of Eight Moon Saffron. Earlier this year, under the Winston Churchill Memorial Trust Fellowship, Errol travelled to eight countries in eight weeks to research saffron around the world. You can buy his saffron in vials of 90 pistils for about NZ$10 but, as you only need a few threads at a time, it is an investment well worth making, especially if you're interested in making this delicious soup.

Harira is the perfect antidote to all the wintry Irish weather that everyone, since I announced that I was going home in November, takes great delight in telling me about. Here in New Zealand I'm just getting into a whole variety of salads, based on leaves – mizuna, rocket, mustard - from the garden but still, I don't think I'll mind wind, rain and cold so much if I'm after a few bowls of Harira!

There are days in winter - and spring, and autumn - when you wake up to wet and wild mornings and the only thing to do is spend the day indoors, with occasional rain-coated excursions for walks to avoid claustrophobia. Digging through Tamasin Day Lewis' Weekend Food on one such day, I discovered a recipe for Pork Hock and Bean Casserole that made me go digging in the freezer to find the cheap, but meaty, pork hock that I'd purchased last month.

This is a good dinner to get started directly after lunch, letting it simmer away in the oven all afternoon and evening until the beans are soft and the meat is deliciously tender. A brief flurry of preparation at the outset and dinner practically cooks itself. With a few variations - cutting down on the molasses and sugar, especially - it made for a succulent dish. Rich and fragrant, this is a comforting meal for those miserable days when you feel in the need of something robust and strongly flavoured.

I have served this with plain basmati rice and Citrus Green Beans (the beans microwaved on high for four minutes then tossed with butter and lime juice) or alternatively roasted pumpkin and Buttered Coriander Cabbage (shred a Savoy cabbage and cook until tender in a pan where a couple of teaspoons of bruised coriander seeds have been sizzling with some butter). You won't need much for afters but, if you really wanted to gild the lily, you could finish off with a bubbling crumble of seasonal fruit.

Since I first saw this book in our local Oxfam shop in Dublin I've been having lustful thoughts about it. Green & Black's produce fabulous organic Fair Trade chocolate - their spice/orange Maya Gold bar heading the list of my all time favourite chocolates - and the photos that I saw on a brief browse through the book were mouth-watering. It's taken some time but I finally bought my own copy and my first impressions did not deceive.

Unwrapped, subtitled From the Cacao Pod to Muffins, Mousses and Moles, is, as it says, all about chocolate and its uses, both sweet and savoury. There are several recipes for delectable gooey brownies (Chocolate and Cherry Brownies, Celebration Brownies), a couple of variations on flourless chocolate cakes - Dark Chocolate Mousse Cake, Polenta Chocolate Cake - and lots of tempting savoury dishes, including a highly intriguing recipe for Gorgonzola with Dark Chocolate. There's also a recipe for Vodka Chilli Chocolates that feeds directly into my current chocolate/chilli fixation - with the added boost of the vodka involvement.

This is a celebration of chocolate in its every shape and form but where it differs from other cookbooks, is in its attention to the detail of the cacao bean production and the merits of Fair Trade. Pictures of the cacao bean growing in its natural environment and of the people that cultivate it are dispersed throughout the book, adding another level of interest to what is already a fascinating book. I can't believe I waited so long to buy it.

Unwrapped: Green and Black's Chocolate Recipes edited by Caroline Jeremy is published by Kyle Cathie.

I put a recipe for Irish Brown Soda Bread on this site several months ago after the first time I cooked it and since then it has become part of our staple diet. Of course, the more I cook a recipe, the more I end up fiddling with it so here is my latest variation.

The first change to my basic recipe was when my mother said that she always uses self-raising flour instead of plain flour as it ensures a good rise. It also enabled me to simplify the recipe, reducing the bread soda and cutting out the cream of tartar completely. The Boyfriend being a fan of pumpkin seeds, we had some in the house so I threw in a handful and was very pleased with the result. They add a lot of texture to the bread and are particularly nice when toasted. I’ve also added some wholegrain oats, for a bit of variation! The first recipe will still work, of course, but this is a simpler and, I must admit, an even better one.

I've been having more than a few Mexican moments lately with my chocolate and chilli experiments and I've also cooked several Mexican meals. The first was for a pot-luck dinner for eight in our house when some of the Boyfriend's college friends and their wives were about. This was only arranged that morning and when the Boyfriend asked what we should cook, I figured that it was the perfect time to try Nigella's recipe for Cornbread-Topped Chilli.

It's been years since I had a good chilli - I think I may have overdosed on my Tipperary friend's ever-present saucepan of chilli con carne while in college (he used to cook it at the start of the week and just leave it on the cooker, adding extra veg and beans as the mood took him!) - but this chilli had the intriguing addition of cocoa powder and I just couldn't resist the idea of another chocolate/chilli combination!

Served with tortilla chips, guacamole, salsa and sour cream this was a perfect dish for a crowd. The most of the meal is presented in one cooking dish, topped by a glorious browned wodge of cornbread. Unfortunately I forgot to sprinkle the cheese on the cornbread before I cooked it but it still tasted very good, especially the part which had soaked up some of the savoury juices from the chilli. You'll find the recipe for that in Nigella's Feast.

A week later, seeing the glut of pinto beans in my pantry, I determined to make some Mexican Beans. These fulfil all the criteria that I demand of my most used recipes – that they be easy to make, can be used in different ways and, most of all, taste fantastic. After soaking the pinto beans overnight, you just throw them in a large saucepan with chilli, garlic, onions, spices and some chopped bacon. Simmer until cooked and then serve what ever way you want. I've used these to fill tortilla wraps, scattered cheese over and baked them in the oven until they were all all bubbling and warm; as the base for Ruth's Refried Beans; as the bean component in nachos; and, with cornbread, as a soup - the original idea of the recipe! This quantity makes a large batch but it is well worth your while cooking plenty and freezing some to use at a later date.

Looking at Sunday's entry about flatbreads and focaccia, I just realised what was missing - I forgot to write up my focaccia recipe! What I give here is just the basic recipe but there are countless variations. You can always add different herbs or some crushed garlic, top the dough with caramelised onions or roasted peppers or, indeed, stuff it with cheese and bacon for a ready-made sandwich.

When the dough is ready for removal from the Breadmaker, I often knead in some cooked red onion - you can see it in the photo. It's pure laziness that has me using the microwave but it is just as easy to do on the stovetop if you prefer. All I do is cut the onion into eighths and cook it with 1½ tablespoons olive oil, covered, for about 10 minutes on medium until soft. I then drain the oil and use it to drizzle over the top of the focaccia before it goes into the oven.

Instead of, or in addition to, water, I've also used whey from my attempts at cheesemaking and I do think this contributes to a more tasty bread. Waste not, want not. Am I sounding like a Fifties housewife yet?!

Even though I haven't been mentioning the Breadmaker very much recently, it does get a regular workout. Every so often we're out of Brown Soda Bread and it's just too much hard work to go down to the shop so I just throw ingredients into the Breadmaker bowl and it makes one of its little square loaves - which are, incidentally, the perfect size for the toaster.

Where the Breadmaker really has come into its own, though, is when I use it to make dough rather than finished bread. Take away all the kneading at the start and I'm much more likely to indulge in yeast cookery. There's a rather nice feeling that comes from working away on the computer when your Breadmaker is hard at work, kneading and rising something tasty for lunch or dinner.

Whether it's a simple naan-type flatbread to scoop up mouthfuls of dal or a large brown focaccia, fragrant with onion and rosemary, for a salad lunch, it's always satisfying - and not very much work - to have your own breads on hand. I've also been experimenting with some Orange Cinnamon Yeast Buns but I've yet to perfect that recipe!

The recipe I give below can be adapted for other types of flatbread. Just use the flavourings that appeal to you - it might be some chopped garlic or fresh herbs or nigella seeds - or make it plain and keep the flavour for the filling, splitting the flatbread like a pita and stuffing it full.

The focaccia is equally adaptable and is still delicious, toasted with a layer of cheese and chutney, the following day.

I was really delighted to see that a New Zealand book that I really enjoyed and have written about here - Taste: Baking with Flavour by Dean Brettschneider and
Lauraine Jacobs - took gold in its category (Soft Cover Recipe Book under US$25) at the 2005 World Food Media Awards in Adelaide last weekend. There was stiff competition in that area and I thought that Mary Contini's blend of memoir and recipes, Dear Francesca, might have taken the prize but it's great to see such an approachable book on baking getting acknowledged. The fact that it's a Kiwi book, of course, makes it even better!

Stephanie Alexander received honours on home ground for her revised and updated The Cook's Companion, tying with an American publication, The Breath of a Wok by Grace Young and Alan Richardson, for the Best Food Book award. Barbara of Auckland's Winos and Foodies had picked Plenty by Gay Bilson in this category and, as I'm immersed in it at the moment on her recommendation, I can see why.

Alastair Hendy, the British food writer and photographer, received Ladles for Best Food Photography and Best Food Journalist, both of which he also won in 2003. New Zealand magazine Home & Entertaining - I can't say I've ever noticed it but will be keeping my eyes open from now on - took the award for Best Food Section in a Magazine and the Best Food and/or Drink Website was the ever-useful Leite's Culinaria.

Among the other winners (full list here) I have only read Tessa Kiros' delightful Falling Cloudberries, a journey through the foods of her life, including those of her Greek Cypriot and Finnish forbearers, which received a gold Ladle for being the Best Hard Cover Recipe Book over US$25. Apparently there were almost 1,000 items of work to be judged. Not all were cookbooks but there were enough in there to make me feel sorry for the judges. I'm only just barely getting through the pile by my own bedside at the moment!

Why is it that recipe names look so much more evocative when written in French? Gâteau au chocolate et à l'abricot seems so much more sophisticated than just plain Chocolate apricot cake. Still, from the look of this slice of this moist dark cake pictured in Christelle Le Ru's Simply Irresistible French Desserts I don't think that anyone will complain if you set it in front of them, no matter which name you use. But Carrés à la noix de pécan and Crèmes chaudes aux myrtilles (Pecan squares and Hot blueberry creams, respectively) certainly do have much more of a ring to them en Français and that's a great deal to do with the charm of this Christchurch-based Frenchwoman's self-published cookbook.

In a world dominated by glossy over-airbrushed and Photoshop-manipulated food photographs, it is refreshing to come across a cookbook with such real illustrations. Like any normal home cook, Christelle doesn't always get perfect slices and sometimes her icing looks intent on flowing off the cake but when she says that that particular cake will "delight many" you believe her. After all, she's got the weight of experience behind her as all these recipes have been thoroughly tried and tested on her friends and family.

Simply Irresistible French Desserts showcases a tempting selection of Christelle's sweet creations, from traditional French charlottes (choose between Chocolate and banana, Pear and chocolate and Strawberry variations) to her take on a baked cheesecake (Fondant au chocolate). The recipes are divided between chapters entitled Chocolate Creations, Fruit Delights and Small Treats, each of which hold a selection of entirely mouthwatering treats. None of the recipes are difficult and there are plenty that have me edging towards the kitchen as I type. I think I'm going to enjoy experimenting with Christelle's Simply Irresistible French Desserts - and I will especially relish using the French names!

Simply Irresistible French Desserts by Christelle Le Ru is published by CLR.