March 23, 2008

Chocolate for Easter

I think my mother has one of her legendary Pavlovas already in the works for the aftermath of the Easter family lunch but, if you're not going to be as lucky, these Chocolate Hazelnut Mini-Puds, adapted from a Nigella recipe, are well worth trying.

This mixture makes eight - serving our family of seven, with one left over to fight for - but it's a very easy thing to halve the recipe if you are serving less people. You do not want to over cook these mini-puddings so the easiest way to make them is to melt the butter and dark chocolate just before lunch, leave to cool then combine with the rest of the pre-weighed ingredients as everyone relaxes after the lamb (it's Easter - it has to be lamb!), sticking it into the oven while the table is cleared and the obligatory pot of post-lunch tea is made. And please do serve with the recommended jug of pouring cream - the combination of cold cream, gooey chocolate interior, crunchy hazelnuts (and, in the spirit of keeping this simple, I don't worry about peeling them) and crusty sponge is truly worth enjoying in concentrated silence.

Chocolate Hazelnut Mini-Puds
Butter - 250g
Dark chocolate (stick with minimum 60% cocoa solids) - 250g
Eggs - 4
Muscovado sugar - 300g
Plain flour - 6 tablespoons
Hazelnuts - 200g, roasted and roughly chopped

Preheat the oven to 200˚C, putting a baking sheet inside it as you do. Butter eight 150ml ramekins.

Melt the butter and dark chocolate in a bowl suspended over a saucepan of simmering water. Leave to cool.

Mix the eggs, sugar and flour in a second bowl with a hand whisk, then beat in the cooled chocolate mixture. Add the roasted, chopped hazelnuts. Divide the batter between the buttered ramekins and bake in the preheated oven for 20 minutes. The tops of the mini-puds should be solid and cracked but the middle will still be nicely soft and sticky.

Sit each ramekin on a saucer, with a teaspoon on the side. Serve with a jug of very cold pouring cream so that each person can break open their mini-pud with the spoon and pour the cold cream into the hot, molten, chocolaty depths.

Serves 8.

Posted by Caroline at 10:46 AM | Comments (2)

February 25, 2008

Racing time: Roasted Squash and Puy Lentil Salad

It's not exactly salad time yet but, when a gloriously sunny Sunday coincided with the local point-to-point races and the family coming round for a pre-race lunch, I couldn't resist poking out an old bag of puy lentils (still working my way through two kitchen's-worth of ingredients!) to combine with the last of our Ushiki Kuri squash.

This squash variety is due to become a garden staple - we had a fantastic yield last autumn, they stored well and the skin is thin enough to be eaten, all good things from a small garden patch. I decided to give the squash a Moroccan accent, roasting it with a sprinkling of Ras el Hanout. The current blend that I am using is a sweetly aromatic sachet that I got while in Morocco, and contains, amongst other spices, black and white peppers, cloves, maniguette or grains of paradise, ginger and rose petals. You can find numerous recipes for Ras el Hanout online (including this one from Greg Malouf) or, for this recipe, you can use a mixture of spices that you find appealing - cumin, coriander, cinnamon and cayenne pepper would do it for me.

I served the roasted squash on a bed of warm lentils, which I tossed in a chilli-spiked, citrus dressing, alongside a large empty-out-the-fridge-and-garden Tortilla, or Spanish Omelette, filled with potatoes, leeks, broccoli and bacon. Then it was off to the races - although some people were luckier with their betting than others!

Roasted Squash and Puy Lentil Salad

Squash - 1 small Ushiki Kuri or Butternut Squash, peeled if necessary
Olive oil - 1 tablespoon
Ras el Hanout - 1-2 teaspoons
Puy Lentils - 250g
Bay leaves - 1, either fresh or dried
Orange - 1, juiced and zested
Lemon - ½, juiced
Olive oil - 125mls
Red chilli - 1, deseeded and sliced thinly
Garlic - 1 clove, crushed
Sea salt, freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 180˚C. Cut the squash into segments, place in a bowl, sprinkle with the olive oil and Ras al Hanout and toss until well coated. Spread out on a baking tray, pointed ends upright, and roast for approximately 35 minutes, until tender.

Meanwhile, place the lentils in a saucepan with a bay leaf, cover with water and bring to the boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook for 20-30 minutes until cooked through. They should be tender but still have some bite and retain their shape. While they are cooking, whisk the orange juice and zest, lemon juice, olive oil, chilli and garlic together. Season to taste and toss with the drained lentils while they are still warm.

Pile the lentils high on a serving plate and place the roasted squash on top. Serve while still warm.

Serves 4.

Posted by Caroline at 7:06 PM | Comments (0)

February 12, 2008

Chocolate Orange Bread and Butter Pudding

Sunday was family dinner day. One of the advantages of living in the countryside in North Cork is getting to spend more time with my family - and getting to try out lots of new recipes on them! This time round I decided to go with something very simple - Roast Chicken with Garlic and Lemon. "That doesn't sound like you at all," the Little Sister said suspiciously when I was talking to her on the phone that morning. "What's the catch?" The last time she was around we were talking about serving her rabbit from the back garden so her reserve wasn't entirely unwarranted, although unnecessary on this occasion. A good chicken needs no disguising. I just pushed some lemon thyme under the skin on the breast, tucked a few cloves of garlic and half a lemon inside the cavity and landed it in the oven, serving it with roasted carrots and peppers (livened up with a few chillies) and potatoes. There was supposed to be a side dish of Buttered Leeks as well - our leeks, grown from a bundle of seedlings that a friendly neighbour left on the doorstep last summer, flourished in the garden all winter - but, between breakfast in bed and flat tyres we forgot to pull them.

The pièce de résistance - I had to do something new after all - was desert. I had a long-frozen brioche that I was intent on using for Bread and Butter Pudding so, that morning, I smeared the layers with marmalade and soaked them in a chocolate custard. This pudding is a little like the Greg Malouf one that I made in New Zealand, but it is definitely easier to find decent marmalade nearby than good quality Turkish Delight. Due to my mother forgetting to bring cream, we ate and very much enjoyed this with copious amounts of natural yoghurt, I'm currently in love with the organic Glenilen brand that we stock in the shop and there's always plenty of it in the house. Better than cream, any day!

Chocolate Orange Bread and Butter Pudding
Good quality dark chocolate - 150g, broken into pieces
Cream - 210ml
Milk - 440ml
Caster sugar - 120g
Butter - 50g, cubed, plus extra to butter the baking dish
Eggs - 4
Stale brioche or good quality white bread - approximately 500g, sliced and de-crusted
Chunky Seville marmalade - 2-3 tablespoons
Flaked almonds - 50g, chopped

Put the dark chocolate, cream, milk, caster sugar and butter into a bowl over a saucepan of simmering water. Allow the sugar, butter and chocolate to slowly melt, without stirring, then mix well.

Meanwhile, spread the slices of brioche or bread with the marmalade. Butter the base and sides of a deep baking dish well and fill with layers of the brioche.

Whisk the eggs in a large bowl. When the chocolate mixture has melted pour it slowly, whisking all the time, over the eggs to make a light custard. Pour it over the brioche, soaking everything well, cover loosely and allow to stand for an hour at room temperature or overnight in the fridge.

Preheat the oven to 180°C. Sprinkle the flaked almonds over the top of the pudding and cook for 35 minutes until set and the almonds have started to brown.

Serves 8.

Posted by Caroline at 1:22 PM | Comments (7)

February 23, 2007

By request - Ricotta and Spinach Pancake Bake

I have made this dish a couple of times for Pancake Tuesday as I love to have a pancake main as well as desert! One of the best things about it is that many of the elements can be made beforehand. This year I made the pancake batter on Sunday, the pancakes and tomato sauce on Monday, then assembled, baked and served on Tuesday.

I was feeding six people after work on Tuesday night - hence no pictures! - so I did a double mixture of the pancake batter and also doubled the amount of Simple Tomato Sauce. The ricotta and spinach filling that I use isn't a mile away from the one I normally make for Spanakopita and it's also good when used to stuff cannelloni.

Ricotta and Spinach Pancake Bake
For the pancakes:
Plain flour - 200g
Salt - a pinch
Eggs - 2
Milk - 500ml
Butter - 1 tablespoon, melted

For the Simple Tomato Sauce:
Olive oil - 1-2 tablespoons
Onion - 1, peeled and finely chopped
Garlic - 2 cloves, peeled and sliced
Tinned plum tomatoes - 2 cans
Bay leaves - 2
Sugar - 2 teaspoons, or to taste
Sea salt, freshly ground black pepper

For the Ricotta and Spinach filling:
Spinach - 300g, washed and chopped
Ricotta - 250g
Eggs - 2
Onion - ½, peeled and chopped finely
Freshly grated nutmeg

Mozzarella Cheese - 100g, grated

Preheat the oven to 200°C.

To make the pancakes: Sieve the flour and salt in a bowl, make a well in the centre and break the eggs into it. Begin whisking the eggs, gradually incorporating the flour. Add the milk, little by little, and whisk until the batter is smooth and the consistency of single cream. Pour in the butter and mix well. Using a hot pan, cook the pancakes, stacking them as you make them between sheets of greaseproof paper. You should get at least 10 out of this mixture.

To make the Simple Tomato Sauce: Heat the olive oil in a heavy based frying pan. Add the onions and soften over a moderate heat for 3-4 minutes, add the garlic and continue to cook for another 3-4 minutes. Pour the tinned tomatoes into the pan, squashing them as you stir, add the bay leaf and sugar, and simmer for at least 15 minutes to concentrate the flavour. Season to taste and, if liked, purée until smooth.

To make the Ricotta and Spinach filling: Mix the spinach, ricotta, eggs and chopped onion together with a generous grating of nutmeg. Place a tenth of the filling on the first pancake, roll up neatly and put into a large deep ovenproof dish. Repeat for the rest of the pancakes.

Using a ladle, spread the tomato sauce over the filled pancakes and sprinkle liberally with Mozzarella. Bake in the oven for approximately 20 minutes. Serve with a leafy green salad.

Serves 6.

Posted by Caroline at 6:49 PM | Comments (5)

February 20, 2007

Pancake Tuesday

Not being very clued in with dates, the first notice I received of the annual pancake flipping day was a display of bottles of squeezy lemon and pancake batter mixes at Morton's in Ranelagh. Pancakes really are one of the easiest things to make so don't bother with the mix - it's normally nothing but flour anyway - buy a real lemon and whip up your own pancakes in minutes with some of the recipes on Greatfood.ie - try sweet pancakes, crêpes, savoury French Galettes or even some fluffy American Buttermilk Pancakes from Bakingsheet.

With a few friends coming round for pancakes and hot chocolate (maybe some Mexican Hot Chocolate?) this evening, I'm using my old recipe for pancake batter (100g plain flour, a pinch of salt, 1 egg, 250ml milk and a dribble of melted butter all whisked together) to make a savoury Ricotta and Spinach Pancake Bake. Sweet pancakes will depend on the mood of the cook afterwards! And always remember, the first pancake invariably sticks and turns into a scrunched up mess. Don't get discouraged - just toss it onto a plate, sprinkle with caster sugar, squeeze a half lemon over and eat it to sweeten you mood while you get stuck into the rest of the batch. Non-stick frying pans have their fans but I wouldn't be without my very heavy cast iron frying pan - no flipping for me, you'd have to have wrists of steel to manage to move this baby so fast - which does a great job every time. Enjoy your pancakes!

Posted by Caroline at 7:58 AM | Comments (2)

November 3, 2006

Testing the new cooker

To give my new cooker a good working test last weekend, I invited my family - Mum, two sisters, a brother and my Granny - to lunch on Sunday so, together with the Boyfriend and myself, we were seven. This, naturally enough, entailed several last minute phone calls home to see if they could bring an extra chair and several sets of cutlery!

Luckily the oven was able to cope with a very un-traditional Coq au Vin (a recipe that developed according to the foodstuffs I had in the house - not so easy to get extra ingredients at the drop of a hat when you're a couple of miles from the nearest town!) as well as two layers of roasting vegetables - one of potatoes, without which no family lunch is complete, and the other a mixture of carrots, onion, garlic, courgette and pumpkin. Amongst all the lurid-coloured pumpkins-for-carving on sale around the place, I was thrilled to discover a very decent crown pumpkin during the trip to the English Market in Cork City on Saturday, which also supplied me with a half-dozen meaty organic chicken pieces.

This recipe was inspired by Frances Bissell's Coq au Vin in her comprehensive Real Meat Cookbook (which also, luckily, contains recipes for rabbit!). I didn't have enough red wine in the house hence the mixture of red and white that I used - it didn't seem to cause any harm. The best dish to cook this in is a cast iron casserole as it lets you do the whole thing in just one pan, from frying the ingredients on the stove top to cooking it in the oven and onwards to the center of the kitchen table for serving. If you have any left-overs (if your little brother leaves any behind, that is!) they make a good supper, reheated and tossed with some freshly-cooked pasta.

Coq au Vin, Cottage-style
Olive oil - 1 tablespoons
Chicken - 6 large, (organic if possible) pieces
Streaky bacon - 250g, chopped
Onions - 3, peeled and roughly sliced
Garlic - 4 cloves, peeled and sliced
Flour - 2 tablespoons
Red wine - 250ml/1 cup
White wine - 500ml/2 cups
Chicken or vegetable Stock - 250ml/1 cup
Carrots - 4, peeled and chopped into 2cm chunks
Thyme - 6 fresh leafy sprigs or 1½ teaspoons dried leaves
Cloves - 4, ground
Peppercorns - 6, ground
Bay leaves - 3
Mushrooms - 250g, quartered
Salt to taste

Preheat oven to 190°C. Heat the olive oil in a solid-based casserole dish and fry the chicken pieces over a moderate heat until golden on all sides. You will have to do this in several batches. Set the chicken aside and pour off excess fat, leaving about 1 tablespoon in the casserole.

Cook the streaky bacon, onions, and garlic over a gentle heat for about 10 minutes until the vegetables have softened a little. Sprinkle over the flour and cook for two minutes then add the wines, stock, carrots, thyme, ground cloves, ground peppercorns and the bay leaves. Bring to a simmer then cover and put into the preheated oven.

Cook for 1½ - 2 hours until the chicken is very tender and falling off the bone, adding the mushrooms to the dish 20 minutes before you want to serve it.

Serve with roasted vegetables, boiled and roasted potatoes and, perhaps, some crusty bread to ensure that you don't miss any of the delicious sauce on your plate. Serves 7, with a few left-overs.

Inspired by Coq au Vin by Frances Bissell in The Real Meat Cookbook.

Posted by Caroline at 8:18 PM | Comments (0)

October 26, 2006

Harira for bookclub

Our last Bibliofemme bookclub - for The Rum Diaries by Hunter S Thompson - was held at my flat on a rapidly-darkening autumn evening. The previous evening had been cold and dreary as I walked home from my webmaster course so I decided to start a soup, leave it sit overnight, and then finish it off as the girls arrived. I'd recently come across Julie Le Clerk's version of Harira in an old copy of Cuisine so this was a good opportunity to try it out. I had made a meatless version of this last year in Christchurch but this time round I had plans for a complete meal in a bowl, stuffed with lamb, lentils, chickpeas and, after a look at Claudia Roden's version of the fast-breaking soup, haricot beans.

This is really one of those soups best made the night before you need it as the flavour improves so much by the spices having a chance to infuse the other ingredients overnight. And that makes life a lot easier if you have people coming round too. All you have to do as your guests arrive (or while one of them hoovers the floor - many thanks to the Connoisseur!) is reheat the soup, put a few warmed flatbreads or pita breads on the table and a bowl of natural yoghurt and just let everybody help themselves. This cauldron of Harira fed the six Bibliofemmers as well as a hungry - and very outnumbered! - Boyfriend, everyone taking their own soup from the table to their seat where we alternately juggled bowls and the two babies that had also turned up. Filling, suitably autumnal and - most importantly - hassle free!

Harira
Saffron threads - 10
Boiling water - ½ cup
Olive oil - 2 tablespoons
Stewing lamb - 200g, roughly chopped into small cubes
Onions - 3, chopped
Ground cinnamon - 2 teaspoons
Ground cumin - 2 teaspoons
Ground ginger - 2 teaspoons
Canned chopped tomatoes - 3 cans
Chicken stock - 6 cups
Cooked chickpeas - 3 cups
Cooked haricot beans - 2 cups
Brown lentils - 1 cup
Lemon - 1, squeezed
Sea salt, freshly ground black pepper

Soak the saffron threads in the boiling water and leave to stand while you prepare the rest of the soup.

Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan and quickly brown the lamb all over. Remove from the pan and leave to one side.

Heat the rest of the oil and cook the onion over a low heat until softened but not browned. Add the cinnamon, cumin and ginger and fry for one minute. Pour the saffron liquid, tomatoes and stock into the pan, adding the chickpeas and haricot beans at the same time and bring to the boil.

Simmer for 40 minutes then add the lentils, simmering for another 30 minutes or until the lentils are cooked.

At this point I took the pan off the heat and allowed it to sit overnight. The next afternoon, I heated it up over a low heat, adding lemon juice and seasoning to taste.

Served with warmed Arabic flatbreads or pita breads and dollops of natural yoghurt it feeds 6 bookclub members plus one Boyfriend.

Adapted from Julie Le Clerc's recipe for Harira in Cuisine, September 2004.

Posted by Caroline at 7:18 PM | Comments (5)

August 30, 2006

Dukkah by post

For the last round of European Blogging by Post, I decided to make some Dukkah to include in my parcel for Petula in Italy. An Egyptian blend of coarsely ground nuts, spices and salt that you eat with pieces of crusty bread dipped in olive oil, I had never come across Dukkah before going to live in New Zealand last year. There it is often available at the many weekend markets dotted around the South Island and many food producers - Wild Country, elgani, Attitude Foods - make their own particular variation.

Back in Ireland, I was suffering from Dukkah deprivation so, inspired by Claudia Roden (again!), I used her recipe to make this version. Rather than dig my weighing scales out of the press, I used a normal teacup to measure the ingredients in the proportions that Claudia suggested.

You can make Dukkah in a food processor but, if so, be careful that it doesn't turn into a moist paste. What you're looking for is a rough texture so you don't have to grind the hazelnuts, in particular, too finely. I made good use of the Boyfriend's skill with a pestle and mortar, him grinding as I closely watched the nuts, seeds and spices roasting in the frying pan. It's much too easy to walk away, just at the wrong moment, and end up with a burnt mess.

The proportions below make about six cups of Dukkah but it keeps well in an air-tight jar and is really good tossed with green leafy salads, sprinkled over melted cheese on toast, on roasted vegetables or with dips like hummus or yoghurt. I've also used it a few times to revitalise sad-looking pita breads. Just cut the breads into strips, brush with olive oil and sprinkle with liberal amounts of Dukkah before crisping up in a warm oven. These don't take long so be careful when you're cooking them.

We've been eating the Dukkah with the remnants of the wonderfully nutty argan oil that we brought back from Morocco but avocado oil is also great with it (I've been able to find the Olivado brand in my local, normally ill-stocked Tesco) or, of course, some decent olive oil. It's a great snack or nibble with drinks. Just grab some crusty bread - sourdough, ciabatta or a baguette - cut into cubes, dip in the oil, then into the Dukkah and savour.

Dukkah
Sesame seeds - 4 cups
Coriander seeds - 2 cups
Hazelnuts - 1 cup
Ground cumin - ¾ cup
Sea salt - 1 teaspoon
Freshly ground black pepper - ½ teaspoons

Dry roast the nuts and seeds separately in a heavy based frying pan. Crush roughly in either a pestle and mortar or a food processor then mix with the cumin, black pepper and salt to taste.

Serve with good olive oil, avocado oil or argan oil and some crusty bread.

Adapted from A New Book of Middle Eastern Food by Claudia Roden.

Posted by Caroline at 7:58 PM | Comments (4)

July 26, 2006

Cooking when there's no time to cook: Potato and Chorizo Tortilla

On Friday night two friends were arriving in from Cambridge in time for a late supper. They didn't arrive until after 9pm, fortunately, as the previous night at Mackerel and an after-work engagement party ensured that I didn't get home until around half seven. Walking home from town I nipped into Spiceland to pick up some pita breads and a tin of dolmades (rice stuffed vine leaves) and together with a few house basics - potatoes, carrots, chorizo, eggs - decided on a simple tapas-style meal with a Mediterranean flavour.

Once cooked, a whiz in the food processor turned the carrots into Spicy Carrot Dip, which I served with the pita breads and alongside some a bowl of natural yoghurt, sprinkled generously with ground cumin. The potatoes, chorizo and eggs all went into one of my current favourite dishes - a Potato and Chorizo Tortilla or Spanish omelette. I got over my long-term fear of the potato in New Zealand and now there's often a bag of organic spuds in the shopping bag. They have to be waxy though, I'm not yet ready to move on to the beloved Irish floury potatoes! When there are potatoes in the house, tortilla - or, as it is known in Italy, frittata - is a great standby. It doesn't take long to make and prefers not to be served hot, happily sitting around at room temperature until it is needed.

If you haven't had a chance to cook the potatoes ahead of time and you're boiling them as part of your evening preparation, make sure you spare yourself the washing-up and cook them the same saucepan as the carrots that you're using in the dip.

By the time our guests arrived I would have been ready but, emboldened by my success at getting everything together, at the last minute I decided to make a cake...and that's a story for another day!

No photos this time. The digital camera seems to have given up the ghost at the moment so we're imageless. Hopefully we'll figure out what's ailing it soon.

Potato and Chorizo Tortilla
Red onions - 1, finely chopped
Chorizo - 200g, sliced
Garlic - 1 clove, sliced
Smoked paprika - ¼ teaspoon
Eggs - 6, lightly beaten
Cooked waxy potatoes - 750g
Olive oil for frying
Salt, freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 200°C. Heat some olive oil in a heavy oven-proof frying-pan and fry the onions and chorizo over a moderate heat until the onion starts to soften. Add the garlic and smoked paprika fry for a few more minutes. Remove from the heat.

Meanwhile, roughly slice the cooked potatoes and add them to the beaten eggs along with some salt and pepper. Scrape the contents of the frying pan into the egg and potato mixture and fold gently together.

Heat a little more olive oil in the frying-pan over a medium and, when it is hot, pour in the egg-potato-onion-chorizo mixture. Give it 5-10 minutes on top of the cooker to lightly brown the bottom then put it in the oven for about 15 minutes or until set. Cool slightly, turn it out onto a plate and cut into wedges to serve.

Serves 4.

Posted by Caroline at 10:04 PM | Comments (4)

June 26, 2006

Quiche Lorraine for a summer supper

In the summertime I love to cook quiches and tarts - although I do have to admit that I often cheat and use ready-made frozen pastry. When I've time to actually make the pastry as well as the quiche (all too often it becomes a trade-off), I use Susan Loomis' short, sumptuous and food processor-friendly recipe but, last Friday, with our Scottish ex-NZ Housemates coming round for dinner, there simply wasn't time. I ditched the idea of making the pastry but, while talking to our guests from the kitchen and getting some salad together, I did manage to give the onions enough cooking time so that they were meltingly sweet and a really good base for the rest of the flavours - pungent smoked bacon and sharp mature cheddar cheese.

There are undoubtedly thousands of recipes and interpretations for Quiche Lorraine but my recipe always has plenty of cream and the minimum of eggs. That means that the sweet, slow cooked onions, smoked bacon and cheese are nestled in a rich, voluptuous custard which wobbles slightly when cut. This is not necessarily a slimmer's choice for supper but it always seems to be an appreciated one. If you were being very frugal you could probably use less cream and more eggs - but then it wouldn't have that glorious custard which, after all, is the main point of a quiche.

A word about baking blind: there are many recipes that don't bother to pre-bake the pastry case before adding the filling - known as baking blind - but, all too often, I've found that it means the base is disappointingly soggy and undercooked. When you're making a quiche or tart, just roll out the pastry first and use it to line the quiche tin. Use tinfoil or greaseproof paper to line the pastry-lined tin and weigh it down with - if you're hyper-organised - ceramic baking beans or, if you're me, some dried beans, chickpeas or uncooked rice. (I store these and just reuse them when ever I'm baking blind. I've currently got a jar of very well cooked barley that I use.) Bake the pasty shell in your preheated oven at 190°C for about 10 minutes, take out the tinfoil/greaseproof paper and baking beans, and give it another 5 minutes in the oven. It is now ready for filling and baking immediately or you can set it aside and use it the next day. As well as baking blind, cooking your quiche on a preheated baking sheet (just put it into the oven when you're turning it on) will also help to avoid soggy bottom situations.

Quiche Lorraine
Shortcrust pastry case - 23cm, baked blind (see above)
Olive oil - 1 tablespoon
Onions - 2 medium, sliced thinly
Smoked streaky bacon - 200g, cut into 1cm dice
Mature cheddar cheese - 175g, grated
Cream - 300ml
Eggs - 2, beaten
Sea salt, freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 190°C and place a baking sheet on the middle shelf.

Heat the olive oil in a deep frying or sauté pan over a medium heat and cook the thinly sliced onions for 15-20 minutes until soft and golden. Scatter over the pre-baked pastry case, wipe out the pan and return to the heat. Add the smoked streaky bacon dice and fry briskly until nicely coloured and crisp. Using a slotted spoon, remove from the pan and sprinkle evenly over the onions in the pastry case.

Mix the cream and eggs together, season well with pepper and a little salt, depending on how salty your bacon is. Mix in half the grated cheese, pour over the filled pastry and scatter the rest of the cheese on top.

Place on the hot baking sheet in the preheated oven and bake for 30-35 minutes until the centre is just set and the surface has turned a light golden brown colour. Remove the quiche from the oven and let it settle for about 10 minutes before serving. It always tastes best warm, rather than hot. Serve with a simple dressed salad of rocket and butterhead lettuce. Serves 4.

Posted by Caroline at 8:40 PM | Comments (2)

June 13, 2006

A mountain of couscous

The Tax Advisor had decided to have another bring-a-course dinner party and, because the Boyfriend and I have plenty of space in our current Dublin flat - as well as small but useful items such as cooking utensils, crockery, chairs and a table - I volunteered us as hosts. Although there were to be eight for dinner, we decided to avoid having as many courses as last time, and limited it to just an opener, mains plus salads, and deserts. There were still the usual "who's cooking what " emails doing the rounds and, only being just back from our travels, I decided to make something Moroccan.

Having always treated couscous as a salad or accompaniment, it was only during our travels there that I realised it is a dish in itself. Couscous is both a basic ingredient - a semolina, synonymous with Moroccan food - and a dish, which is the semolina topped with a stew with the rich broth served on the side. In Morocco, the stew is often cooked in the bottom of a special two-level pot called a couscoussier (check out the cover of Nigella's Feast to get idea of what it looks like) while the couscous is steamed on top. I had hoped to bring a couscoussier home with me but the morning that the Boyfriend was looking at them he only saw terribly light aluminium ones so we decided to leave it. But there's plenty of other ways of steaming couscous - I often use the microwave and, if you've the oven on, it's as easy to land your tinfoil-wrapped dish of couscous in there until it's warmed through. And, when you've a kilo of raw couscous reconstituted - with six boys going to be in the house, I was having lack-of-food-fear on Friday night! - it definitely won't fit in the microwave.

A bit of scouting around brought me to Claudia Roden's recipe for Couscous with Spring Vegetables (from her current book, Arabesque) which I amalgamated with Paul Gayler's Seven Vegetable Couscous with Dried Fruits and Ras el Hanout (Mediterranean Cook) and several of my own additions - more spices, some tinned tomatoes, a chilli and just a pinch of sugar. Luckily our friend, the English Engineer, turned up just in time to painstakingly peel a bowl of defrosted broad beans. Offering to help in my kitchen often means that you get landed with the fiddly tasks that I don't have time to do! I'm a recent convert to broad beans but don't think that there's any point unless they're naked and vivid green rather than wrapped up in a dull, tough, indigestible skin. The broad beans peeled, they were chucked into a pot of aromatic broth along with six other vegetables to make up the magic (and traditionally Moroccan) seven vegetable combination.

Despite Dublin selling out of Pimm's because of this current stretch of glorious summer weather, we managed - courtesy of the English Engineer and his flight through Stanstead - to get our hands on a couple of bottles, making a suitably atmospheric opening to a very entertaining evening. As a matter of fact, we ended up having such a good time that some people didn't get home until Saturday evening - they still didn't manage to finish the couscous mountain though! Note to self: a kilo of couscous is more likely to feed 12-14 people than just 8...

Seven Vegetable Couscous
For the couscous:
Couscous - 500g
Salt - ½ to 1 teaspoon, depending on taste
Extra virgin olive oil - 3 tablespoons

For the vegetable broth:
Extra virgin olive oil - 3 tablespoons
Ras el hanout - 1 teaspoon
Saffron strands - 1 pinch
Turmeric - ½ teaspoon
Ground cumin - ½ teaspoon
Ground cinnamon - ¼ teaspoon
Vegetable stock - 1 litre, I normally make it from Marigold Swiss Vegetable Bouillon Powder
Tinned tomatoes - 1x 400g tin
Carrots - 4, peeled and cut into 2.5cm slices
Cooked chickpeas - 240g or 1x 400g tin, drained
Dried apricots - 100g, halved
Broad beans - 400g (shelled weight), podded, or defrosted, and skinned
Spring onions - 250g, trimmed and sliced thinly
Fresh red chilli - 1 large or 2 small, deseeded and sliced thinly
Young peas or frozen petit pois - 400g (shelled weight)
Salt, freshly ground black pepper, granulated sugar
Fresh coriander - a large handful of leaves, chopped

Put the couscous into a large ovenproof dish. Dissolve the salt in 600ml of water and add to the couscous, stirring so that the water is absorbed evenly. After about 10 minutes, when the couscous has plumped up and is tender, add three tablespoons of olive oil and, with cupped wet hands, lift the couscous, rub it between your hands to break up any lumps and let it fall. This will aerate it. This can be done in advance and, 20-30 minutes before serving, heat the couscous through in an oven preheated to 200°C until it is steaming hot.

For the broth, heat 3 tablespoons of olive oil in the bottom of a large, deep saucepan; when warm, add the ras el hanout, saffron, turmeric, cumin and cinnamon and infuse for a minute. Add the vegetable stock and tinned tomatoes, bring to the boil, then add the carrots, chickpeas and dried apricots.

Cook for 15 minutes, then add the broad beans, spring onions and fresh chilli to the pot and cook for another 10 minutes, or until tender. Taste and season with salt, freshly ground black pepper and a pinch of sugar, if necessary. Add the peas and cook for 2 more minutes. Stir in the chopped coriander just before serving.

Fluff up the couscous with a fork, breaking up any lumps. Using a slotted spoon, fish the vegetables out of the broth and arrange on top of the couscous. Pour the remaining broth into a bowl for everyone to help themselves.

Serves 6.

Posted by Caroline at 8:46 PM | Comments (3)

May 14, 2006

Couscous to accompany a Moroccan-style meal

The Boyfriend and I are about to head off to Morocco in a week's time so I thought I should use up my last year's supply of Moroccan spice blend ras el hanout on a meal for the Writer - who brought me my first taste of spices from Morocco - and her husband. I decided to make my favourite Moroccan Lamb Tagine and, to accompany it, thought that I'd jazz up my usual plain couscous a little.

A lonely-looking squash in the fridge from the tail end of last season's shopping, tossed with some olive oil and spices (I used Ras al hanout but you could easily substitute a mixture of ground cumin, coriander and chilli powder) happily roasted in the oven alongside the tagine. While it tenderised and caramelised, I prepared the couscous, adding in some thinly sliced red onion (for tang), toasted pine nuts (for crunch) and dried cranberries or "craisins" (for sweet tartness). Inspired by an idea from New Zealand cook Allyson Gofton, I grabbed a couple of oranges from the fruit bowl, threw the zest on top of the couscous and used the juice for a dressing. Living in a first floor flat without window sills means that there's a dearth of fresh herbs these days, unlike last summer in NZ, but I had a little bunch of chives which I added to the salad although, I have to say, parsley (as suggested below) would have been much better.

Spiced Squash and Couscous Salad is good with a tagine but nearly even better in a lunchbox the following day, with a dollop of natural yoghurt, so you get to appreciate all the tastes and textures. This is also a very good salad for stuffing in pita breads or rolling up in a flatbread but do make sure that you serve it at room temperature - the flavour is very much dulled when it is refridgerator-cold.

Spiced Squash and Couscous Salad
Squash - 1, small
Ras al hanout - 1½ teaspoons OR
Ground cumin - ½ teaspoon and
Ground coriander - ½ teaspoon
Chilli powder - ½ teaspoon
Olive oil
Couscous - 2 cups
Boiling water - 3 cups
Sea salt, freshly ground black pepper
Pine nuts - 50g, roasted
Red onion - 1, finely sliced
Dried cranberries - 50g
Oranges - 2, rind and juice
Fresh parsley - 1 small bunch, finely chopped

Preheat the oven to 180°C.

Peel, core and chop the squash into pieces about 2cm square. Place in an ovenproof dish, sprinkle with the ras al hanout or cumin, coriander and chilli and a little olive oil and mix well. Roast for 40-50 minutes until tender and starting to caramelise.

Put the couscous into a microwave-proof bowl and season well. Pour the boiling water over, cover the bowl and leave to stand for 5 minutes or until the liquid has been absorbed. Fluff with a fork, microwave for 2 minutes on high, and then re-fluff. Heat an empty heavy-based frying pan over a medium heat, throw in the pine nuts and cook until browned.

Add the pine nuts, red onion, parsley, orange rind and juice to the couscous, season well and toss with enough olive oil to moisten. Lay the spiced roast squash on top of the salad and toss again, gently.

Serve at room temperature. Serves 4.

Posted by Caroline at 10:11 PM | Comments (4)

April 24, 2006

Gluten-free food

Nothing strikes more terror into the heart of a cook than being told that a guest is allergic or intolerant to certain foods. I find that it tends to concentrate the mind, not - as you may think - on what you can cook but, rather, what you can't. Told that I need to avoid spicy foods, my brain invariably starts wandering through all my Indian and Moroccan favourites. For vegetarians, I start musing over soups with meat bases or, perhaps, Mexican Beans - cooked with bacon!

In New Zealand we had regular coeliac and gluten-intolerant visitors and, once I had wrenched my mind away from couscous, bulgur and pasta-based meals, there was no problem. Roast Leg of Lamb, cooked with haricot beans, and served with Garlic Potatoes and Roasted Carrots was a particular favourite. Other safe - and tasty - dishes were Frittatas, curries or even Braised Lamb Shanks with Chickpea Mash. Fellow blogger, Gluten-Free Girl is always a good source of recipes as well.

As a result, I constantly keep an eye out for good gluten-free dishes and, when I first came across Mark Bittman's recipe for a French flatbread, made with gluten-free chickpea flour, called Socca (or farinata in Italy) in an old New York Times article, my interest was piqued. However, getting my hands on the chickpea flour, was a little difficult and, between one thing and another, I almost forgot about it. An entry, however, on The Laughing Gastronome reminded me about the dish and, when I finally tracked the flour down - in one of Dublin's great Middle Eastern shops, Spiceland (also the source of large, wonderfully fragrant bunches of coriander for curries) - I was newly determined to try the recipe.

As the Boyfriend had put himself in charge of dinner that evening, he did all the actual cooking. There was some simple homemade tomato pasta sauce in the fridge, courtesy of his previous night's dinner, which he smeared on top of the cooked flatbread, sprinkling it with a handful of chopped chorizo before finishing it off with grated cheese for a Pizza-style Socca. We ate it hot and the base was very good, moist and supple, a little like polenta. This is perfect snack or light supper for your gluten-intolerant friends or family - and it's also tasty enough to be well worth cooking even if you don't have to cut gluten out of your diet.

Update 17 May 2006: As Maj pointed out in the comments below, chorizo may not be suitable for those on a gluten-free diet. Always check the label and, if in doubt, there's lots of information about non-friendly additives on US site Celiac.com.

Pizza-style Socca
Chickpea flour - 1 cup
Salt - 1 teaspoon
Ground black pepper - 1 teaspoon, at least, ground black pepper
Lukewarm water - 1 cup
Olive oil - 4 tablespoons
Red onion - ½, thinly sliced
Homemade tomato sauce - 3 to 4 tablespoons
Grated cheese - a couple of handfuls
Chopped chorizo - a handful

Preheat the oven to 230°C. Put a cast iron frying pan or non-stick 30cm pizza pan in the oven.

Sift chickpea flour into a bowl with salt and pepper then slowly add the lukewarm water, whisking to eliminate lumps. Stir in 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, cover and let sit while oven heats, or up to 12 hours.

Stir the sliced red onion into the batter. Pour 2 tablespoons of oil into the heated pan, swirl to cover pan evenly and pour in batter. Return to the oven and bake for 12 to 15 minutes, or until socca is firm and edges set.

Heat the grill and spread socca with the homemade tomato sauce. Sprinkle with cheese and set it 5-10cm below the grill for a few minutes, until all is warm and bubbling happily. Cut into wedges and serve hot.

Serves 2 as a light supper. Adapted from a recipe by Mark Bittman.

Posted by Caroline at 10:27 PM | Comments (6)

April 20, 2006

A simple Coconut and Peanut Curry

Ever since I've discovered the glories of butternut squash, there's rarely a week goes by without it being added to a dish or several. As with pumpkin, I tend to use more Middle Eastern or Indian flavours in my squash dishes - cumin and coriander seeds are particular favourites - but, as it's been a while since we've had a curry, I turned to the January edition of delicious. magazine for a recipe with more Asian leanings.

Telegraph food writer Tom Norrington-Davies (looking like a terribly cute yellow-jumpered gnome in the photos!) did a feature on oh-so-seasonal root vegetables under the heading of The Comfort Zone which, somehow, managed to incorporate a Pumpkin and Peanut Curry. As always, I busily messed around with the recipe, substituting squash for the pumpkin, adding carrots, and stepping up the chilli content.

As with all recipes involving chilli, add as much - or as little - as you feel comfortable with and always remember that their strength vary considerably. I am speaking from bitter (albeit slightly warm!) experience, here, after my fingertips tingled for a couple of days the first time I made a Thai Green Curry. Now I do all deseeding and chopping chillies with my hands safely enclosed in rubber gloves.

It might be an unusual ingredient in a curry but it is worth searching out some decent peanut butter for this storecupboard recipe. In New Zealand we used to buy the most amazing peanut butter from Piko Wholefoods that they seemed to make on the premises. There was no salt or sugar added to the mix - it was just, simply, peanuts ground into a paste. Here even slightly substandard peanut butter gives this convenient curry a delicious savoury, nutty depth.

Coconut and Peanut Curry
Hot water - 200mls
Crunchy peanut butter - 2 tablespoons
Tomato purée - 1 teaspoon
Lime - zest and juice
Thai fish sauce (nam pla) - 1 tablespoon
Soy sauce - 1 tablespoon
Fresh coriander - small handful with, if possible, roots attached
Red chillies - 3, deseeded and finely chopped
Garlic cloves - 4, peeled and finely chopped
Fresh ginger - 2cm, peeled and finely chopped
Vegetable oil - 2 tablespoons
Red onions - 2, peeled and cut into thin wedges
Carrots - 4, peeled, halved and cut into 1cm thick slices
Butternut squash - 1 medium, peeled, deseeded and roughly diced
Coconut milk - 1 x 400ml can
Peanuts - 2 tablespoonfuls, roasted and chopped

Measure out the hot water in a large jug, add the peanut butter and stir until it dissolves then stir in the tomato purée, lime zest and juice, Thai fish sauce and soy sauce.

Remove the leaves from the coriander and set aside. Chop the stalks and roots as finely as possible and mix with the chopped chillies, garlic and ginger.

Heat the oil in a large pan and fry the onions over a high heat for a few minutes until they start to soften and slightly brown. Add the carrots, fry for two minutes, then add the squash and fry for another two minutes. Sprinkle over the chilli mixture, cook for one minute and pour over the coconut milk and peanut butter mixture. Simmer for 25-30 minutes until the mixture has reduced a little and the vegetables are tender. Season to taste, then sprinkle with the coriander leaves and chopped roasted peanuts.

Serve with piles of fluffy basmati rice. Serves 4.

Adapted from Tom Norrington-Davies' recipe for Pumpkin and Peanut Curry.

Posted by Caroline at 11:05 PM | Comments (2)

March 10, 2006

Cast iron cooking

I have become a cast iron convert. A Thursday night dash into a post-Christmas sale at Kitchen Compliments on Chatham Street in Dublin led to me becoming the proud owner of an oval "Racing Green" enamelled cast iron Chasseur casserole dish (the Chasseur range is like Le Creuset but a little cheaper). Well, I started off being proud until I realised how heavy it was and that I had to drag it - with the Boyfriend's help - to an opening at an art gallery, all the way round the (very large) exhibition, to the after-opening drinks in a local pub, and into a bad Mexican take-away on its way home to my kitchen. It survived its eventful night out in Dublin and, since then, has been put to use on many occasions, some of which have, again, involved trips across town.

This Spiced Chicken Tagine, inspired by Julie Le Clerc's recipe for Spiced Chicken with Apricots and Chickpeas, was the first dish I cooked using my cast iron pot. Being a terribly lazy cook (and refusing to use a dishwasher!), I love when I can use one pot from start to finish. No special serving dishes for me, thank you, as meals normally arrive on the table in whatever they've been cooked in - a "Racing Green" casserole in this case.

One of the first guests I cooked this for - my cousin's husband - is chilli-intolerant so, unlike many of my recipes, this is not hot-spicy. The ginger and cinnamon give it more of a mellow, laid-back, warm spicy flavour. I normally serve it with roasted vegetables - carrots and squash are current favourites - tossed in a little olive oil and a sprinkling of cumin, and a Spinach Bulgar Pilaf or piles of plain buttered couscous.

As with all casserole-type dishes, this Spiced Chicken Tagine gets tastier if made the day before you need it. Depending on the chicken pieces that you use, this can be a little fatty so an overnight sojourn in the fridge lets any excess fat rise to the top and solidify so that you can remove it easily. If you're not that organised - and I rarely am - you can just use a spoon to skim any fat off the surface before you serve up.

Spiced Chicken Tagine
Chicken thighs and legs - 8
Olive oil
Onions - 2, sliced
Garlic - 3 cloves, sliced
Ground ginger - 2 teaspoons
Ground coriander - 2 teaspoons
Ground turmeric - 2 teaspoons
Ground cinnamon - 2 teaspoons
Ground cumin - 2 teaspoons
Dried apricots - 150g, chopped
Chickpeas - 1x 400g can, drained and rinsed
Stock - 1 litre, chicken or vegetable
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 190°C. Heat a large heavy-based casserole dish, add a little oil and brown chicken pieces over a moderate heat for 2-3 minutes on each side. Set aside and pour off excess fat, leaving about 1 tablespoon in the casserole.

Cook onions and garlic on a gentle heat for about 10 minutes until softened but not coloured. Tip the spices into the dish and fry for 1 minute. Add the chicken, apricots and chickpeas, pour over the stock and bring slowly to the boil.

Cover with a lid and transfer to the oven. Leave in peace for 60-70 minutes until the chicken is well cooked and meltingly tender. Before serving, taste the sauce and season if necessary.

Serve with roasted vegetables and bulgar pilaf or plain buttered couscous. Serves 4.

Posted by Caroline at 8:48 AM | Comments (2)

March 3, 2006

Bookclub brunch

There are seven members of the Bibliofemme bookclub and, every month, one of us hosts a meeting where we discuss the book distributed at the previous meeting. As I had picked the last book - Witi Ihimaera's The Whale Rider - all the Femmes were coming round to mine on Saturday and, in a change from our normal night-time get-together, we were meeting at 12pm. Normally we just have nibbles and wine - having taken a vow when the club started not to have anyone slaving over a hot stove - but I couldn't resist the chance to try out some brunch recipes. Although, having carelessly tossed off an invitation to brunch to six people (normally seven but the Artist couldn't make it back from London), those recipes seemed to be rather difficult to come by.

Despite being stuffed full of recommendations for other group events, Tom's Big Dinners didn't have one idea for brunch so I had to look elsewhere. A trawl through my collection of Nigella's books left me similarly lost but, somewhere en route, I had decided that eggs were an appropriate thing to have and, after a zoom around the local supermarket to see what was in stock, I settled on a Smoked Salmon, Cream Cheese and Potato Frittata (to try out my new cast-iron frying pan!) served with Mushrooms in Milk. This mushroom recipe, adapted from Denis Cotter's ever-useful A Paradiso Year: Autumn and Winter Cooking, is something that I remember my Nana making on the Aga cooker in Oldcastle town when I was small.

The morning of the brunch I picked up some small crusty bread rolls and made a couple of loaves of fresh brown bread. I had intended to make some chocolate muffins (I've rediscovered the muffin recipe book that Bibliofemme's Writer gave me years ago) but, as I started to weigh out ingredients, I discovered that I was almost out of paper muffin cases so that idea had to go out the window at the last minute. Just as well - I had to keep leaving the apartment to find lost Femmes and lead them home! And The Whale Rider? A disappointment. Which reminds me, I need to go and review it now for the Bibliofemme site...

Smoked Salmon, Cream Cheese and Potato Frittata
Red onions - 2, finely chopped
Eggs - 6, lightly beaten
Tinned baby potatoes - 1 x 800g tin
Paprika - ¼ teaspoon
Smoked salmon - 100g, chopped
Cream cheese - 100g, roughly cubed
Olive oil for frying
Salt, freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 200°C. Heat some olive oil in a heavy oven-proof frying-pan and fry the onions over a moderate heat until they start to soften. Meanwhile, slice the potatoes and add them to the beaten eggs along with some salt, pepper and the paprika. Scrape the softened onions into the egg and potato mixture, add the smoked salmon and the cubed cream cheese and fold gently together. Heat a little more olive oil in the frying-pan and, when it is hot, pour in the egg-potato-smoked salmon-cream cheese mixture. Give it five minutes on top of the cooker to brown the bottom then put it in the oven for about 15 minutes or until set. Turn out onto a plate and cut into wedges to serve.

Serves 6 as part of a large brunch.

Posted by Caroline at 8:15 PM | Comments (0)

February 17, 2006

Portable food: Chickpea, Spinach and Tomato Curry

Last week we were going to one of the semi-regular dinner parties hosted by our friend the Tax Advisor. The Tax Advisor loves to host - but he doesn't cook. For years now he has been hosting these dinner parties in his city centre apartment while the other guests come bearing food and dishes and, on several occasions, spare chairs!

For the first dinner in his new flat, there were eight guests. This time there was no point in bringing spare chairs as the Tax Advisor doesn't have a table. Or many plates. Or any serving spoons. Or a sharp knife. So, faced with such a lack of utensils, I decided to cook the dish that I was going to bring for dinner at home the night before. As a couple of the guests are vegetarian, it gave me an opportunity to work on one of my favourite meatless recipes from last year - Chickpea and Tomato Curry.

A trawl through the Asian Market on Dublin's Drury Lane furnished me with a large bunch of spinach - I had decided to turn the curry into a Chickpea, Spinach and Tomato Curry - and I got a similarly generous bunch of fresh coriander at Middle Eastern shop Spiceland, along with the tinned tomatoes. My spice cupboard was well supplied with all the ingredients for an Indian curry (mainly from the Boyfriend's previous trip to Spiceland) and, as usual, I had soaked too many chickpeas (from more local Middle Eastern shop Al Khyrat in Rathmines) the previous night.

I cooked the curry, from start to finish, in my large cast-iron casserole dish, which also had the advantage of being transportable, adding the garam masala, spinach and coriander at the Tax Consultant's flat when it was reheating (I forgot the lemon!). I also forgot the natural yoghurt that I normally serve with this although I did remember to bring a large pot of cooked basmati rice which turned out perfectly fluffy despite me:
1) not putting enough water in at first
2) adding more then having to take the pot off the heat to take it across town
3) forgetting about it when we got there, and then
4) landing the whole pot in the oven to warm up.
About the only thing that I did right was in following my rule to not stir the rice AT ALL. Basmati rice seems to be very good natured as long as you don't mess with it.

We got round the lack of a table by spreading a picnic rug on the floor and laying the feast on top. There was rather a lot of food with my curry only one of (approximately) eight courses - an assortment of Indian starters, bruschetta, asparagus wrapped in Parma ham, vegetarian fajitas, sherry trifle, French pastries with coffee and delicious sangria to finish. Richly replete, we all rolled home - until the next time the Tax Consultant decides to summon us to a co-operative dinner party...

Chickpea, Spinach and Tomato Curry
Onions - 3, finely chopped
Fresh ginger - 4cm, peeled and grated
Garlic - 4 cloves, peeled and finely chopped
Red chillies - 3, seeded and finely chopped
Turmeric - 1 teaspoon
Vegetable oil - 3 tablespoons
Chickpeas - 3 x 400g cans, drained
Tinned tomatoes - 3 x 400g cans
Ground coriander - 2 tablespoon
Chilli powder - 1 teaspoon
Ground cumin - 4 teaspoons
Garam masala - 4 teaspoons
Lemon - 1
Spinach - 750g, washed and chopped
Fresh coriander - small bunch, washed and chopped
Sea salt to taste

Cook the onions, ginger, garlic, chillies and turmeric in the oil until softened and golden. Add the chickpeas, tomatoes, ground coriander, chilli powder and ground cumin. Cook over a low heat for 20 minutes.

[At this stage I left it cool overnight, heating it the following evening]

Sprinkle over garam masala and lemon juice and let simmer for five minutes, before adding the spinach and simmering for another five minutes. Season with salt to taste and strew with fresh coriander before serving.

Serves 6-8, with plenty of rice, large dollops of natural yoghurt and warmed naan bread.

Posted by Caroline at 11:16 AM | Comments (0)

February 8, 2006

Emergency soup for a bleak winter's night

Seeing as both Darina and Rachel have recently been assuring the readers of their cookery books that it's become very fashionable to entertain at home instead of going out - that, and the fact that the Boyfriend and I finally have somewhere to call home - we had some friends round last week after work for hot chocolates. It was a bitterly cold evening as I made my way home from work so I decided to supplement the hot chocolates with some soup.

With just 20 minutes before my guests were due to arrive, I crossed my fingers and opened the cupboard doors. After a quick scan of the ingredients available to me, and with one eye on the clock, I decided to merge two recipes. The first was a Roast Tomato and Lentil Soup that Judith Cullen had cooked at a Christchurch cookery demonstration but, having neither the time for roasting tomatoes nor cooking lentils, I took the idea of that recipe and added it to my speedy store cupboard saviour, Fran's Best Lentil Soup. A tin supplied the lentils and, if the roasted tomatoes were not available to me, I could at least substitute some decent Italian tinned plum tomatoes picked up on sale earlier in the week at The Best of Italy on Dunville Avenue in Ranelagh. No fresh thyme either this time round but, as this is supposed to be a store cupboard soup, it's probably not so bad to use dried.

Luckily, while getting milk for the hot chocolates, I had already picked up some decent Brown Soda Bread on the way home. We served mugs of the soup with thick slices of the bread and plenty of good salty Irish butter. A warming opening for a relaxing evening of hot chocolates, cookies and lots of chat.

Store Cupboard Lentil and Tomato Soup
Olive oil - 1 tablespoon
Onion - 1, peeled and roughly chopped
Garlic - 2 cloves, peeled and roughly chopped
Lentils - 1 x 400g tin
Tomatoes - 1 x 400g tin
Dried thyme - ½ teaspoon
Salt, pepper

Heat the olive oil in a heavy-based saucepan. Add the onions and garlic and cook over a medium heat for about five minutes until softened. Add the tinned lentils, liquid and all, the tomatoes and the thyme. Season and heat until simmering. Leave chunky or blend carefully with an immersion blender for a smoother texture. Serve with Brown Soda Bread.

Makes 5 scant mugs of soup or two generous bowls.

Posted by Caroline at 8:59 AM | Comments (2)

January 27, 2006

Red wine instead of Guinness

Last weekend - the macaroon-making one - I was down home cooking dinner for my mother's birthday. As we farm beef cattle, roasts are a regular part of life at home so, as the kitchen was in my hands on Saturday, I decided that it was a good opportunity to make something completely different. On Friday night I dug out the cookbooks that haven't yet made it to Dublin - they're the ones that got co-opted by the Little Sister - and started leafing through them, looking for inspiration. One of the Avoca books had an interesting-sounding Beef and Guinness Stew so I bookmarked the recipe for consultation the following day.

I only glanced at the recipe before I went into the local town of Charleville but I did remember to get a kilo of stewing steak, half a dozen muddy carrots, a few heads of broccoli and some puff pastry, as the Boyfriend had suggested turning what was supposed to be a simple casserole into a slightly more elaborate pie. I figured that we would have Guinness somewhere in the house after Christmas so I didn't worry about getting that only to discover, when I started searching at home, that I had used all the Guinness when cooking the Spiced Beef on Christmas Eve.

Never being one to let the absence of a major ingredient stop me from trying out a recipe, I decided to substitute a bottle of red wine for the missing Guinness and ended up with a Beef and Red Wine Pie. I used a whole bottle of wine to ensure that there was plenty of rich gravy. Deeply succulent and cold-weather friendly, this was a good sturdy dinner for a grey, raw January Saturday and went down well with the entire family - apart from my teenaged Little Sister who mostly doesn't eat the kind of "horrible food" that I cook. As there were both broccoli and carrots in the pie, we just served it with boiled potatoes to soak up all the lovely juices although some crusty French bread wouldn't go amiss either.

Of course, you don't need to bother turning this into a pie as it makes an exceptionally good casserole by itself. On the other hand, if you want to cook the meat in advance - always something which improves the flavour - remove the casserole from the fridge and let it come to room temperature before you add the pastry topping and pop it in the oven. Although, I must admit, that I ran out of time (not the first time this has happened) so the pastry got landed on the hot filling and put in the oven straight away. Not strictly orthodox but it works if you're stuck or disorganised like me!

Beef and Red Wine Pie
Stewing steak - 1 kilo
Olive oil - 2 tablespoons
Onions - 2
Garlic - 2 cloves
Flour - 2 tablespoons
Red wine - 1 bottle
Carrots - 6
Thyme - 2 sprigs of fresh or 1 teaspoon of dried
Bay leaves - 2
Broccoli - 2 heads
Salt and pepper to taste
Puff pastry - 500g pack
Egg - 1, beaten

Preheat the oven to 190°C. Peel and roughly chop the onions and garlic. Peel the carrots and cut into 2cm chunks. Divide the broccoli into small florets.

In an ovenproof casserole heat the oil and brown the meat in batches, transferring it to a plate as it is done. Add the onions and garlic to the casserole and sauté for ten minutes over a medium heat. Return the meat to the casserole and add the flour. Cook, stirring for two minutes, then add the red wine together with the carrots, thyme and bay leaf.

Season well with salt and pepper and bring to a simmer. Cover the casserole and transfer to the preheated oven. Cook for 1½ - 2 hours until the meat is very tender, adding the broccoli to the dish for the last five minutes.

Decant the casserole into two ovenproof serving dishes - I used square lasagne dishes - and let cool to room temperature.

When you're ready to cook the pies, preheat the oven to 220°C. Divide the pastry in half and roll it out to fit the dishes. Place on top of the pie and glaze with beaten egg. Cut three slits in the pastry to leave out the steam and place in the oven. Bake for 20-30 minutes until the pastry is puffed up and golden brown and you can hear the filling simmering underneath.

Serve with boiled potatoes or some crusty French bread.

Makes 2 pies and serves 6.

Posted by Caroline at 11:32 PM | Comments (0)

December 23, 2005

Cranberries at Christmas

The best thing about being back in Ireland is Christmas in winter. Somehow - although my readers from the other side of the world may not agree! - cold long nights and short wet days make me feel Christmasy. It's that whole feeling of getting indoors and battening down the hatches for the miserable weather. Perfect for Christmas preparations! And driving home for Christmas surely isn't the same unless you arrive late, on the evening before Christmas Eve, to see the house lit up with all the lights on and there's lots of tasty smells coming out of the kitchen.

And that brings up to the food. At home, all the preparation is done in a mad rush on Christmas Eve and then there's only cooking on the day itself. My own special contribution to dinner - besides peeling acres of potatoes, chopping stacks of carrots, making two kinds of stuffing and mince pies, just a few bits and pieces! - is Cranberry Sauce. I was never a fan of the solid stuff that came in a jar but, years ago, I couldn't resist trying out a recipe from Simply Delicious Christmas by Irish queen of cooking, Darina Allen. That was the year the whole family became converted and I've made it every year since then although I've strayed far from the original recipe over the years.

My cousin won't be down home for Christmas this year and, when I was home a couple of weeks ago, I had intended on making her some sauce to take to dinner at her husband's family house. Alas, cranberries hadn't yet reached the shops so I figured that I had to forget that idea. But when I saw them in the supermarket this week I dived for a punnet. I was going out to have dinner (Nigella's Stroganoff made with good Kilfinane beef!) with herself and her husband last night so I brought along the ingredients and, while chatting in the kitchen after dinner and sipping our hot ports, made two jars of Cranberry, Orange and Port Sauce. The orange - only juice this time as I forgot to add the rind - is a usual addition but, when I caught sight of the port bottle, I couldn't resist adding a shot.

If you would like your Cranberry Sauce unadulterated, then just use 200ml water and leave out the orange juice/rind and port. This takes only a few minutes to make and, unlike trying to make Brussels Sprouts palatable, it is worth it.

In the timeless words of Clement Clarke Moore, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Cranberry, Orange and Port Relish
Fresh or frozen cranberries - 300g
Orange - 1, rind and juice
Water
Caster sugar - 100g
Port - 2 tablespoons

Rinse the cranberries and put them into a saucepan with the orange rind. Measure the orange juice and make it up to 175ml with water. Bring to a boil over a moderate heat then simmer for about 5 minutes, until the berries burst. Add the sugar and port. Stir until the sugar has melted, bring back to a simmer then pour into warmed jars or a sauce boat.

Makes: about 2x 250g jars or enough for decent helpings on Christmas dinner and to brighten up lots of leftovers.

Posted by Caroline at 11:49 AM | Comments (4)

November 11, 2005

Mexican moments

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.

Mexican Beans
Pinto beans - 500g
Streaky bacon - 100g, chopped
Red chilli - 2, seeded and chopped
Garlic - 2 cloves, chopped
Onion - 1, chopped
Cumin seeds - 1 teaspoon, roasted briefly in a heavy-based pan
Water
Salt - 1 tablespoon

Rinse and soak the pinto beans overnight. Rinse again and place in a large pot with the bacon, chilli, garlic, onion and cumin seeds. Add enough water to cover the beans by 1½ inches and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer until the beans are tender, approximately 2 hours. Add the salt and simmer for another 40 minutes until the beans are tender and the cooking liquid has thickened somewhat.

Posted by Caroline at 3:36 PM | Comments (0)

September 11, 2005

Moroccan meals

I've been getting plenty of use out of the ras el hanout that I made fairly recently and it is particularly good with lamb. Of course, being in New Zealand, there's no shortage of the baa-ing beast although, as the Boyfriend told a former vegetarian friend after one such dinner, we only eat the ugly ones!

A little while ago I was cooking dinner - which I decided should have a Moroccan flavour - for some members of the Boyfriend's family. Desert, in the form of Greg Malouf's Chocolate Bread and Butter Pudding with Turkish Delight, was decided on first so all that remained was to figure out a complementary main course for eight people beforehand. I decided on two dishes - a vegetarian (albeit Greek) Spanakopita and my slow cooked Moroccan Lamb Tagine with Ral Al Hanout, with a large bowlful of Couscous with Toasted Nuts served alongside.

Most of this menu can be prepared ahead which is always a huge advantage when people are coming round for dinner and you have a small kitchen. The Boyfriend and I made the Spanakopita and Bread and Butter Pudding in the morning, putting them aside to be cooked at the last minute. About two hours before guests were due I got the Moroccan Lamb Tagine into the oven. As always, there were plenty of things to be done at the last minute but, with all hands on deck, nothing got out of hand and we managed to feed everybody - eventually!

Moroccan Lamb Tagine
Stewing lamb - 500g, in rough chunks
Olive oil - 2 tablespoon
Onions - 2, large
Garlic cloves - 2, large
Lemon - ½
Chopped tinned tomatoes - 2 tins
Fresh thyme - a few sprigs
Ras el hanout - 2 teaspoons
Apricots - 50g
Cooked chickpeas - 400g (or use black-eyed beans or haricots)
Spinach leaves - 1 packet, thoroughly washed, dried and chopped
Salt, freshly ground black pepper

Using a very hot pan and the olive oil, brown the lamb chunks in batches. As they cook, put them into your ovenproof dish and squeeze the half lemon over. Add a little more oil to the pan and fry the onions and garlic, season them with salt and pepper and stir over a moderate heat so that they cook without burning.

Add to the ovenproof dish with the tomatoes, thyme, Ras Al Hanout, apricots and chickpeas. Cook at 190°C/375°F for an hour and a half until lamb is tender. For the last ten minutes of the cooking time add the chopped spinach to the dish along with seasonings.

Serve with rice or couscous.

Posted by Caroline at 7:23 PM | Comments (4)

August 7, 2005

Pies in New Zealand

Pies truly are a New Zealand classic. Maybe it's because of the British influence and their Pork Pies, although colonisation of Ireland didn't leave us with any such culinary heritage. As I mentioned the other day, pies are eaten by Kiwis on long road trips - the guarantee of a good pie will encourage people to take major detours - and they are apparently the traditional accompaniment to a rugby match. The national pie is bacon and egg and, every summer, magazines and newspapers compete to give the perfect recipe for this picnic standard. Apparently a good Bacon and Egg Pie is dependent on you not breaking the egg yokes as you add them to the sliced bacon in the pastry case. Hmm...another recipe to try out at some stage in the future!

When I was small I remember my mother regularly making a deliciously savoury Lamb's Kidney Pie encased in shortcrust pastry. It was never steak and kidney, for some reason, not that I ever minded. For me the Kidney Pie, with bacon and sometimes mushrooms, was the height of culinary sophistication although, if I took a piece of it for lunch at school, I was bound to get someone going "urgh...kidney...disgusting!" I think I put them off their lunches more often than they managed to put me off mine.

But, back to my pie-fest for the Boyfriend's birthday dinner, the Beef and Chorizo Pie was topped with a thick homemade scone-like pastry so I decided that the pastry for the Chicken and Mushroom Pie should just be plain (bought) puff pastry. I must admit to not being particularly precise about how the pastry fitted across the top of the pies as, for me, the nicest part of a pie is where the gravy bubbles up around the pastry.

A search online for Nigel Slater plus Chicken Pie brought up this recipe for Deep-dish Chicken Pie which I adjusted to my own needs. The filling is fabulous, much richer by being made from stock than it would have been from milk (although I couldn't resist adding a little cream). Thickened a little, it would make a great filling for a Chicken Lasagne or you could use it as a pasta sauce or on top of rice or...

Chicken and Mushroom Pie
For the chicken:
Chicken thighs - 8, skinned and boned
Carrot - 1, chopped into rough chunks
Onion - 1, halved
Bay leaves, thyme and parsley stalks

For the rest of the filling:
Onions - 4, chopped
Olive oil - enough to cook the onions
Smoked streaky bacon - 200g, chopped
Mushrooms - 350g, quartered
Butter - 70g
Flour - 70g
Chicken stock - 2 litres, from simmering the chicken pieces
Cream - 100ml
Peas - 150g, fresh or frozen
Thyme - a few sprigs
Puff pastry - enough to top your ovenproof dish
A little beaten egg for glazing

Put the chicken pieces in a heavy-based pot with the carrot, the onion and the aromatics. Cover with just over two litres of water and bring to the boil. Turn the heat down and leave to simmer for about 30 minutes until the chicken is cooked and the water has become a tasty stock.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a heavy pan and cook the onions slowly until just starting to colour. Add the chopped bacon and mushrooms. Continue to cook over a low heat for about 15 minutes until everything is soft. Remove the chicken from the stock and chop into rough chunks. Add to the mixture.

Strain the stock and discard the vegetables and herbs. Melt the butter in a pan and add the flour, cooking it over a moderate heat for one minute. Pour in the stock and cream and stir well, then simmer for 10 minutes or so until it thickens into a rich sauce. Add the onion and chicken mixture with the thyme and peas and season well. Pour into a deep oven dish and allow to cool.

Preheat the oven to 200°C. Roll out the puff pastry and lay it on top of the pie. Brush with egg and cut two or three holes in the top to leave steam out. Bake for 20-30 minutes until the pastry is golden and puffed and the filling audibly simmering.

Adapted from a recipe by Nigel Slater.

Serves 6.

Posted by Caroline at 7:49 PM | Comments (8)

August 3, 2005

The Boyfriend's birthday dinner

Yesterday was the Boyfriend's birthday so I decided to throw a small surprise birthday dinner - just us, three of his sisters, one sister's boyfriend and our two Scottish Housemates. The plotting and planning for this has been going on for a couple of weeks but, after pondering various options, I only decided on what we were going to eat fairly late in the day. My first idea was for a kind of Chinese banquet, heavily influenced by the fact that I'm reading a cookbook by Chinese Australian chef Kylie Kwong at the moment. That, and the fact that it contains a recipe for Sung Choi Bao of Pork. We loved this when we had it for the first time - and the second - at Indochine restaurant and it looks like a good dish to try out at home. I think I'll still end up cooking it at some stage but it looked like a difficult dish to make for eight. So, eventually, I decided on another of the Boyfriend's favourites - the good old Kiwi meat pie.

Pies are big business over here. You can get them at any local corner store or garage shop and they, rather than the plastic Irish sandwich in a plastic box, seem to be the food of choice for anyone travelling a long distance. Why I don't know. The only way they seem to differ from that typical 'hang' (otherwise known as ham) sandwich is that they're usually served hot. Other than that, the pies that I've had seem to be a matter of indifferent pastry enclosing mysterious meat filling and dried up gravy. Not necessarily a culinary classic - but, when well made, pies can be delicious. Never being one to cook a single dish when two will be too much, I decided to make a Beef and Chorizo Pie, adapted from Julie Le Clerc's Simple Café Food, as well as a Chicken and Mushroom Pie, inspired by Nigel Slater.

Simple Café Food and its successor, More Simple Café Food, were the origins of my accompanying salads for the meal. Fed up with my usual tabbouleh and couscous salads, I branched out with slight adaptations of Julie Le Clerc's Orzo with Spice-Roasted Carrots, Currants and Pine Nuts, Cracked Wheat with Lemon, Spinach, Herbs and Seeds and Roasted Purple Onions with Dried Sour Cherries. Although not a very extensive menu, I would have been lost without the help of one of the Boyfriend's sisters, on the salad-making side of things, and one of our Scottish Housemates who got stuck into the washing-up with a will and a way so that we were finished - just! - before the Boyfriend and the other Scottish Housemate (deputised to distract Boyfriend from preparations) returned from the local pub.

For desert we had a dense Chocolate Birthday Cake with cinnamon and chilli. I had just purchased this fabulous Kashmiri Chilli Powder from Aji in Christchurch and, being a fan of chocolate/chilli combinations, couldn't resist using it. Although both the cinnamon and chilli did add a depth to the flavour of the cake, it was not enough to satisfy me. More chilli the next time, methinks, and I might even pop back to Aji for some of their 'Triple A grade' cinnamon to give it an extra richness.

Beef and Chorizo Pie
Pastry:
Butter - 50g
Plain flour - 2 cups
Baking powder - 3 teaspoons
Salt - 1 teaspoon
Milk - 1 cup

Filling:
Olive oil
Stewing steak - 1 kg
Chorizo sausages - 3, sliced
Onions - 2, peeled and sliced
Garlic - 2 cloves, peeled and finely chopped
Flour - 5 tablespoons
Red wine - 1 cup
Water - 3 cups
tomato paste - 3 tablespoons
Thyme - 1 tablespoon, chopped
Green beans - 300g, chopped into 2cm pieces
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Egg - 1, beaten, for glazing

Start by making the pastry. Rub the butter into the flour until mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Add milk and bring together to make a smooth dough. Wrap and refrigerate for half an hour before using.

Heat some oil in a heavy based saucepan and brown the meat and chorizo in batches. Leave to one side while you cook the onions and garlic over a medium heat until beginning to brown. Stir in the flour and cook for one minute. Remove from the heat and add the red wine and water, stirring until smoothly combined. Return to the heat and boil until mixture thickens. Stir in tomato paste, thyme, meat and chorizo. Simmer slowly for 45 minutes and season well. Transfer to a large ovenproof dish and leave to cool then add the green beans.

Preheat oven to 180°C. Dust work surface with flour and carefully roll out pastry to 3mm thick. Place on top of pie and glaze with beaten egg. Bake for 35-40 minutes until pastry is golden brown and the gravy is bubbling.

Serves 8.

Adapted from Simple Café Food by Julie Le Clerc.

Posted by Caroline at 9:14 PM | Comments (3)

July 17, 2005

The glory of lamb shanks

One of the nicest meals out that I ever had with my family occurred in a small, unpromising, cellar-type Italian restaurant on the Douglas promenade in the Isle of Man about five years ago. We were on a family holiday and, when the ages of the family members range from my Granny, still sprightly in her mid-eighties, to an ever-active obstreperous pair of children, then aged nine and ten, it is sometimes difficult to strike the right balance between keeping the kids fed and entertained while the adults relax. But this restaurant managed it very well. The younger duo were fascinated at being able to observe the cooking in the open plan kitchen and the older members of the party were kept laughing by a flirtatious Italian waiter who tried to insist that Granny had wine. They were no mean shakes in the food department either but my clearest memory is of the dish that my sister ordered. She was the last to be served but we were all impressed at her plate of lamb shanks, braised so that the meat was meltingly tender, falling off the bone when touched by her fork. Or touched by the forks of others at the table for we weren't going to allow her to struggle through such a plateful on her own!

Since then I have rarely encountered lamb shanks on a restaurant menu. I have, however, often come across them in cookbooks and have been amassing a collection of recipes in case some shanks should arrive on the doorstep some day. Recently, when some former housemates from Ireland were coming round for dinner, I decided to take the plunge. Peter Timbs Butchers in Edgeware provided me with four meaty shanks and all I had to do was figure out which way I wanted to cook them. As I had been going through an Indian and Middle Eastern phase lately, I decided that I wanted to go with something more straightforward and Tamasin Day-Lewis' West of Ireland Summers had just the recipe I needed. Her Braised Lamb Shanks were served with Champ but, as I am not in the least bit interested in potatoes, I decided to accompany the dish with Nigel Slater's Chickpea Mash. With Cauliflower and Broccoli Cheese as vegetables on the side and (another) Feijoa and Apple Crumble for desert we had the perfect cold winter evening comfort dinner.

Braised Lamb Shanks
Lamb shanks - 4
Plain flour - 2 tablespoons
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Olive oil - 2-3 tablespoons
Onions - 4, sliced
Garlic - 6 cloves, chopped
Rosemary and thyme - 2-3 sprigs, finely chopped
White wine - 300ml
Balsamic vinegar - 150ml
Water - 150ml
Lemon rind - 2 strips

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
Heat the oil in a heavy frying pan. Add the onions, garlic and herbs and fry until soft and golden. Remove to a deep ovenproof dish. Season the flour and toss the shanks in it, shaking off any excess flour. Reheat the frying pan and add more oil if needed. Add the shanks to the pan, two at a time, and brown all over. Put the shanks on top of the the onion/garlic/herb mixture and deglaze the frying pan with the wine and vinegar. Bubble furiously for 2-3 minutes to reduce then pour over the shanks.

Add the strips of lemon rind to the dish and place it in the oven. Leave simmering for about two hours. A little longer isn't such a bad thing. You will know that they are cooked when the meat is starting to fall off the bone.

Serves 4.

Adapted from West of Ireland Summers by Tamasin Day-Lewis.

Chickpea Mash
Chickpeas - 600g, either soaked and boiled yourself or 2 x 400g tins
Olive oil - 2-3 tablespoons
A small onion - finely sliced
Water - 150ml
Hot paprika
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat the olive oil in a heavy based pan then toss in the onion and let soften over a moderate heat until starting to brown. Add the chickpeas and water and simmer for a couple of minutes. Using a potato masher, crush the chickpeas roughly. Season with salt, pepper and paprika.

Serves 4.

Posted by Caroline at 9:28 PM | Comments (2)

June 23, 2005

Bread and Butter Pudding - updated with a Moroccan accent

When I was a kid, Bread and Butter Pudding was the desert that we all loved. I wasn't too impressed with other traditional milk puddings like Farola or semolina and often would walk away from the dinner table with my pockets full of secreted spoonfuls rather than actually eat a bowl of the insipid stuff.

But Bread and Butter Pudding was another story. I always seem to remember it being made in an enamelled dish. My mother used to scatter plenty of sultanas through the buttered bread slices before she poured over the eggy milk. My job, at that age, was to poke the bread down into the milk and ensure that it got as soggy as possible before it was sprinkled with sugar and whisked into the oven. That day I would even try to eat up my potatoes (another childhood foodstuff that usually got the same treatment as Farola and semolina) before tucking into a bowlful of the Bread and Butter Pudding. I loved the combination of the crunchy sweet topping and soft custardy interior, studded with plumped-up sultanas.

Although I have tried my hand at savoury Bread and Butter Puddings, it's been years since I had a sweet one. Then I came across a recipe for a Chocolate Bread and Butter Pudding with Turkish Delight in Greg and Lucy Malouf's Moorish. Their recipe brought Bread and Butter Pudding right up to date, putting a decadent spin on what used to be a wholesome desert. Could I resist? Not at all. When we had the Boyfriend's sisters and cousins round for a Moroccan meal one night I decided that this was going to be the piece de resistance and it didn't leave me down. As I was chopping pistachio nuts for the couscous that night I added a handful of them to the topping for another layer of crunch. It's a very rich desert so be sure and serve it in small portions. To really gild the lily, you can accompany it with some softly whipped cream.

Chocolate Bread and Butter Pudding with Turkish Delight
Good quality dark chocolate - 150g, broken into pieces
Cream - 210ml
Milk - 210ml
Rum or brandy - 4 tablespoons
Caster sugar - 110g
Butter - 75g, cubed
Ground cinnamon - a pinch
Eggs - 3, large
Stale white bread - half a loaf, 400g approximately, cut into 2cm cubes
Rose or orange-blossom flavoured Turkish delight - 100g, chopped
Pistachio nuts - 50g, chopped

Place the chocolate, cream, milk, rum or brandy, sugar, butter and cinnamon into a bowl over a pan of simmering water. Without stirring, allow the chocolate and butter to melt and the sugar to dissolve. When melted, stir well.

Whisk the eggs in a separate bowl and, still whisking, pour the chocolate mixture on.

Lightly butter a 18cm by 23cm ovenproof baking dish. Cover the base of the dish with a layer of the chocolate custard then tip in the cubed bread. Pour the remaining mixture over, ensuring that all the bread is well coated.

Cover the dish with clingfilm and allow to sit for a few hours at room temperature. Refrigerate for at least 24 hours or up to 48 hours.

Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F. Remove the clingfilm and sprinkle over the pieces of Turkish delight and pistachio nuts. Bake for 30-35 minutes until the top is crunchy but the centre should still be soft. Allow to stand for a few minutes before serving with lightly whipped cream, flavoured with a few drops of orange-blossom water, if desired.

Adapted from Moorish by Greg and Lucy Malouf.

Posted by Caroline at 4:18 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 15, 2005

Old faithful

Sometimes familiarity breeds contempt and that has surely been the case with one of my trademark dishes - Chicken with Garlic and Lemon. This is a dish that I have been cooking for years. It gets trotted out at regular intervals if friends are coming round for dinner and for many years it, and a variation on Apple Crumble, were my fail-safe dishes for those occasions. In fact, a poor housemate that I lived with for a couple of years must have gotten well sick of the sight and smell of garlic and lemon!

For all that I criticise it, this recipe is a great one to have up your sleeve - and it leads to endless variations. I think I got the original idea from the ever fabulous Nigel Slater but I've been tweaking it ever since, adding chopped or whole garlic cloves, a glass of white or red wine at the beginning or end of the cooking time, not adding any liquid at all, sitting the chicken on a bed of onions and/or other vegetables and experimenting with herbs - fresh thyme and rosemary being two of the most readily available favourites.

It is the work of minutes to prepare the ingredients then all you have to do is put your roasting tin in the oven and let the heat go to work. You can make this dish with a whole chicken or pieces. If I am cooking a whole chicken I normally put a lemon half into the bird. If not, I snuggle the halves into the tin with the chicken pieces. I normally use thighs, favouring the dark juicy meat over the white breasts. For this recipe I am going to presume that you are using chicken pieces - make sure they come with skin and bones intact. Crispy chicken skin is one of life's pure joys. And do try to cook free-range chicken if you can at all afford it. The flavour is just so much better - and there's none of the associated guilt that you get from eating chickens that have had an unhappy factory life. Having said that, this recipe does give flavour even to the most pallid of supermarket chickens.

Chicken with Garlic and Lemon
Free-range chicken - a couple of pieces per person
Onions - 3 or 4, peeled and sliced
Garlic - 6 cloves, unpeeled, and 2 cloves peeled and cut into slivers
Olive oil
Thyme or rosemary - a handful of sprigs
White wine - a glass
Lemon - 1, skin scrubbed of wax and halved
Sea salt, freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).

Rinse the chicken pieces and pat them dry. Using a sharp thin knife, poke holes in the fleshiest parts of the meat and push the slivers of garlic into them. Put the onion slices into a roasting dish with the whole cloves of garlic and toss with a slosh of olive oil. Pour the wine into the dish then lay the herbs on top of the onions and the chicken on top of that. Squeeze the lemon over the chicken then sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper. Tuck the squeezed lemon halves into the pan.

There's nothing more to do. Put the chicken into the oven and let it be for about an hour. Don't worry about forgetting it - the smells from the oven will ensure you remember. The chicken will be ready when the juices run clear when tested with a skewer. The skin should be crispy and golden, the onions slightly caramelised and it should look and smell irresistible.

I normally serve this with basmati rice and roasted carrots, making sure that everyone gets a serving of the sweet juicy onions which, to my mind, are one of the best parts of the dish.

Posted by Caroline at 8:20 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

June 5, 2005

Mainly Moroccan

If you've ever seen photos of Morocco, you'll be familiar with the piles of vividly coloured spices in the market places. My one-time housemate, on a trip to Morocco a long time ago, brought me a mysterious little bag from one of the piles. She didn't know what it was, neither did I, but I delighted in trying it out - until the day I discovered that the spice had turned into a wriggling mass of maggots. Not that that would put me off trying the spices, however, if someone should happen to bring me more of them, I think that I'd just look over them more carefully!

My fascination with Moroccan food has continued, despite the maggots, and I've been experimenting with a blend of spices called Ras el Hanout from a Kiwi company called Alexandra's Bazaar. There seems to be as many variations of Ras el Hanout as there are cooks in Morocco to argue about it which didn't help me when I went looking for a recipe to make my own blend. Paula Wolfert, in Couscous and Other Good Food from Morocco, got a sample of Ras el Hanout from Fez and had it analysed in New York. That blend had a total of 26 ingredients, including the aphrodisiac Spanish fly and poisonous belladonna leaves. Suffice it to say that I did not intend to going so far so when I discovered a recipe for the seasoning in Greg Malouf's Moorish that only had 12, easily obtainable, ingredients I determined to give it a try. Greg calls it Ras al Hanout and, in the introduction to his version in Moorish (he's got at least two others that I've discovered so far) says that this is a humble blend, for daily use. He says that it can be used in soups and tagines, as a marinade, or with rice and couscous.

Ras el Hanout
Cumin seeds - 1 teaspoon
Coriander seeds - 1 teaspoon
Cardamom pods - 6, seeds only
Fennel seeds - ½ teaspoon
Black peppercorns - ½ teaspoon
Sweet paprika - 2 teaspoon
Cinnamon powder - 1 teaspoon
Turmeric - 1 teaspoon
Cayenne pepper - 1 teaspoon
Salt - 1 teaspoon
Sugar - ½ teaspoon
Allspice - ½ teaspoon

Lightly roast the cumin, coriander, cardamom, fennel and peppercorns in a pan over a medium heat. Finely blend with a pestle and mortar then mix with the rest of the ingredients. Store in an airtight jar for up to three months.

Adapted from Moorish by Greg and Lucy Malouf.

Posted by Caroline at 10:50 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 4, 2005

An Indian feast

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
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
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)

April 20, 2005

Hot Smoked Salmon and Leek Tart

The first time that the Boyf