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Feijoa_1
If any fruit could evoke my childhood with one deep inhalation it would have to be the feijoa. There’s something mystical about its flavour, something remarkable that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s a fruit which fills the mouth with an unmistakably robust flavour yet somehow still remains subtle.

It’s a mouthful of nostalgia for me. It reminds me of a time and place where houses were separated by trees rather than fences, where I could walk home from school down the middle of the road, where milk bottles were delivered to the letterbox with silver foil caps and where we disappeared for hours on end, roaming about the neighbourhood, completely unaware of any angst our parents were enduring. Ahhhh yes…the sweet taste of childhood. All of this makes me sound rather old, which I shall neither confirm nor deny.

But let’s get back to the humble feijoa before the glass of wine beside me takes hold and all hell breaks loose. Or melancholy ensues. I’m not sure which is worse. The thing about feijoa that reminds me of my youth is that consuming them usually went hand in hand with roaming the streets to pass the time. I never once remember my parents buying a bag at the grocery store. That would have been completely ludicrous, given most people had a tree in their backyard or at least knew of one nearby that they could raid when the light fell low enough. Feijoa trees belonged to the common good, not the property on which they dug their roots. I just can’t bring myself to fork out for a bag, unless it’s an honesty-box roadside stall. As a result feijoa have been notably absent from my autumns in the last few years. Maybe it’s the urban lifestyle most of us lead…not many people I know have an accidental orchard in their backyards.

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Fortunately though, I visited friends earlier this week who have cultivated an enviable fruit and vegetable garden including a heavily-laden feijoa tree in desperate need of relief. I was, of course, more than willing to assist. The trick is to retrieve the fallen fruit before they turn into garden mulch, which seems to happen in the blink of an eye. What’s so great about them though is that while they are magnificent sliced through their girth, the flesh scooped out and eaten au naturel with a spoon, they are also unbelievably great cooked, the riper the better. A fresh batch of feijoa jam, stewed with apples or baked in a cake…it’s all happy stomachs as far as I can make out.

A fresh feijoa cake, still warm from the oven, served with greek yoghurt and a cup of tea seems like the perfect antidote to the falling autumn light, shortening days and ever-colder toes. This delicious cake below is one I adapted from the classic Edmonds banana cake recipe. I wanted to make it gluten-free, not only to suit household dietary requirements, but also because I am a huge fan of cakes which use ground almonds as their base. It’s seriously good. So good you just might plant a feijoa tree in your backyard. Or maybe even create a feijoa-tree-map of your neighbourhood, showing which are the easiest to pilfer from without getting caught. Not that you heard it from me.

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FEIJOA, LIME & ALMOND CAKE (gluten-free)

INGREDIENTS
125g butter – at room temperature
165g sugar
2 eggs
Finely grated zest of 1 lime
300g feijoa pulp – mashed with a fork
1 tsp baking soda
2 tbsp hot milk
150g ground almonds
165g gluten-free all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder

METHOD
1. Preheat the oven to 180°C. Butter a 20cm springform cake tin and line the base with baking paper.
2. Beat the butter and sugar until pale and creamy.
3. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.
4. Stir the feijoa pulp and lime zest into the egg mixture, combining well with a large metal spoon.

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5. Heat the milk, add the baking soda and stir well until frothy and the baking soda has dissolved.
6. Add to the feijoa mix along with the almonds, flour and baking powder and fold gently together until just combined. Stop stirring as soon as the last scrap of flour disappears. Don’t be tempted to overmix or the cake will be stodgy.
7. Pour the mix into the prepared tin, smooth the top gently with a spatula and bake for approximately 50 minutes until a skewer inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.

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8. Leave the cake to cool in the tin for about 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. Serve warm with a dollop of greek yoghurt on the side and dusting of icing sugar if you feel the need to keep up appearances.

Nuts_7
My days of roaming the earth, free as a (childless) bird, seem to be an ever-foggier memory. Traveling for extended periods somehow still seems tangible yet if you really put your mind to it you quickly realise how much has happened in the last 10 years. Not to mention how young you used to look, when at the time you thought you were so worldly and grown up. I always travelled with at least one notebook. You know the kind…lists of what you wanted to achieve, locations you needed to conquer, vague and virtually untenable social connections which you hoped would lead to a free meal and a night on the couch. Books you wanted to read, photographers you admired, exhibitions that blew your impressionable mind and of course the obligatory ‘finding oneself’ ramblings etched passionately (and just a little tortuously) whilst under the influence of at least three free-spirited wines.

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I still have in my possession one such notebook from when I travelled to Copenhagen via Morocco via Portugal via etcetera, etcetera, around nine years ago. I think the reason this one has survived until now is that aforementioned passionate ramblings have been torn out and long since destroyed. A half-finished letter to my longtime pen-pal Thomas still exists but there’s nothing so incriminating as to make me burn it in a dark alley. I’m grateful I haven’t erased every scrap of my records. Not least of all because I stumbled upon a small but significant collection of great recipes that at the time demarcated my travels and that I had since all but given up hope of finding again. I like to give recipe-credit where credit is due but in all honesty I can’t for the life of me remember where these recipes came from. It could have been anywhere. And the state of my memory these days doesn’t lend much hope to establishing a lead.

One such recipe was a fancy candied walnut salad, so fancy in fact that it has joined us for Christmas dinner on more than one memorable occasion. It’s one of those salads that people have an involuntary reaction to…the kind where their faces scrunch up into perturbed disbelief at the deliciousness that is passing their lips. These candied walnuts are beyond moreish. They’re dangerously addictive. The original recipe uses them in a simple mixed-leaf salad which was coated in an incredibly complex and flavoursome dressing. These days I prefer these nuts used in a slightly more simplified way. They are very flavoursome in and of themselves so think a simple seasoned dressing using good quality olive oil and lemon juice is all that is needed.

In the image at the top of this post I tossed these nuts through a salad of baby spinach leaves, chopped flat-leaf parsley, thinly sliced red onion, roasted red and yellow capsicum and grilled haloumi, seasoned and dressed with lemon juice and good-quality olive oil. They are equally divine tossed through a herby, leafy combo dotted with crumbled goat feta.

I’ve warned you about the perils of roasting nuts before and I’ll warn you again now: be sure to set a timer when you put the nuts into the oven. Their high fat content means they are quick to burn and believe me when I say you will not want to waste these. The recipe below makes enough walnuts for a couple of large salads. They keep well stored in an airtight jar in the pantry hidden on a high back shelf so no one else can find them. If their location is discovered I give it two days tops before the jar is empty.

CANDIED WALNUTS

INGREDIENTS
200g walnut halves
50ml liquid honey
50g sugar
1/4 tsp salt
50ml water

METHOD
1. Preheat oven to 170°C and line an oven tray with baking paper. Brush the baking paper with a light coating of olive oil.
2. Put walnuts into a small saucepan, cover with hot water, bring to the boil and simmer for five minutes then drain the nuts in a colander.

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3. Put the honey, sugar, salt and water into the rinsed saucepan and bring to the boil over a medium heat. Add the walnuts and stir regularly until mix becomes dry (approximately 10 minutes).

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4. Transfer the nuts to the oven tray and spread out in a single layer. Roast for approximately 8 minutes (set a timer) until they turn a light mahogany colour, turning the nuts halfway through the cooking time.

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5. Remove the tray from the oven and slide the baking paper onto a cool tray, or directly onto the kitchen bench and set aside for five minutes. When they are cool enough to handle, separate the nuts with your fingers and allow to cool completely. Store in an airtight jar in the pantry.

Chimichurri-5
Ahhh chimichurri. The stuff of legends. I was introduced to this cheeky little condiment while we were living in Buenos Aires many moons ago. Along with meat meat and more meat, chimichurri is synonymous with Argentine cuisine. Given that fauna are undeniably favoured over flora, Porteños would probably count it as the vegetable portion of any given meal. I couldn’t live on this brown-green imbalance for very long but where this rationale makes perfect sense is at the humble barbecue.

I’m not exaggerating when I opine that chimichurri is the ultimate barbecue side dish. It’s ridiculously good with meat. Pork sausage, in particular, is its spiritual home and this combo was how I first got a taste for it. Choripan is a wonderfully simple street food you find everywhere in Buenos Aires. It consists of a white bread bun, chorizo sausage (pork sausage, not the spicy Spanish variety) and lashings of chimichurri. The good ol’ meat-in-bread combo doesn’t get any better than when it’s been doused in this herby, garlicky treat. It’s just not possible. My mouth waters at the memory of leaving a soccer game in La Bombonera, desperately hungry, finding ramshackle barbecues set up in the neighbouring streets, selling the most satisfying, bad-meaning-good food imaginable.

Chimichurri comes in many shapes and forms. The most basic and widely-known ‘green’ chimichurri is made from finely chopped parsley, minced garlic, olive oil, oregano and white or red wine vinegar. A ‘red’ version also exists which includes tomato and red capsicum. Additional flavorings such as coriander, paprika, cumin, thyme, lemon, and bay leaf may also be included depending on where you source your recipe.

For my version below I waxed lyrical based on what I had in the fridge and it leans more towards the green version than the red. I added a green capsicum, which may or may not be sacrilege, but I’ve developed a new-found love for these crispy, refreshing vegetables and think they work exceptionally well with the other ingredients.

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Though very easy to assemble, the trick to a good chimichurri is taking the time to finely chop the ingredients. It should look like a slightly chunky pesto with the green capsicum and red chili peaking out like teeny tiny jewels.

Chimichurri-2
Do yourself a favour…next time you get invited to a barbecue take this as your offering. Instant street cred.

CHIMICHURRI

INGREDIENTS (makes enough to use as a meat-in-bread condiment for 10-15 people)
1 green capsicum – deseeded and very finely chopped
1 large bunch coriander – leaves picked and finely chopped
2 large bunches flat leaf parsley – leaves picked and finely chopped
1 red chilli – deseeded and finely chopped
5 medium garlic cloves – crushed to a paste with 1 heaped teaspoon of sea salt
1/2 tsp white sugar
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 ¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp lemon juice
Freshly ground black pepper

METHOD
1. Finely chop the capsicum, coriander, parsley and chili and put into a large bowl along with the remaining ingredients.

Chimichurri-4
2. Stir well to incorporate the flavours and leave in the fridge for the flavours to develop for at least 30 minutes before serving.
3. Remove from the fridge and bring to room temperature prior to serving.
4. To serve, put a barbecued pork sausage or meat patty into a crispy bread roll and top with a generous spoonful of chimichurri.

NOTE: This will keep well in the fridge for at least a week. Also divine served on top of steak.

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Crumble_6
I could’ve sworn summer holidays used to feel longer. Wasn’t it just days ago that I was coercing you all to make a Campari-laden strawberry cocktail?  You might be needing that tipple now more than ever if you’ve returned to work this week. Ouch indeed. We’ve begrudgingly kissed goodbye to lie-ins, waved off the late-morning swims, crossed midday naps out of the diary, and taken pudding-every-day off the menu. I’m crying into my peppermint tea right now.

I really do rip into puddings over the Christmas-New Year period. It would be rude not to. There’s no other time of the year when such a bounty of bad is dangled in front of us like the carrot we probably should be eating. But ‘should’ doesn’t really get a look in where summer holidays are concerned. ‘Should’ is the anathema to good times. I should drink less wine. I should stop eating to excess. I should watch less re-runs of Seinfeld. I will, however, do the complete opposite. And maybe all at once. In fact that’s exactly what we ended up doing last night. Following a virtuous yet delicious dinner we retired to the couch with a glass of wine, an ample bowl of pudding and, fittingly, The Non-fat Yoghurt episode. Our wounded first-week-back souls were instantaneously warmed.

The end of summer and beginning of a new year doesn’t mean an end to puddings. We need all the comfort we can get when we’re staring down the barrel of a new working year so I say ignore all those do-good-ers who trumpet on about getting back to eating ‘right’ to correct all their holiday dietary wrongdoings. That’s what winter is for. No wait, puddings are great then too. Ah to hell with it…

For me, nothing beats a good fruit crumble where sweet comfort food is concerned. I had some stewed fruit in the freezer waiting patiently for me to come calling as soon as I had eaten one too many Christmas mince pies. What else could you possibly want to do with stewed fruit other than top it with some sweet, buttery, crunchy goodness? Don’t answer that.

This is my reinvention of the crumble wheel. I like my crumbles light (ground almonds in place of flour), crumbly (oats), nutty (pistachios) and crunchy (demerara sugar). I also like them flavorsome and to this end the cardamon and lemon provide a lovely marriage with the pistachios. I had the added bonus of putting my feet up where the fruit content was concerned…my mother having dropped off a vat of stewed rhubarb and apple the week prior. The fruit bit is easy though and you can use pretty much anything that takes your fancy (apple, rhubarb, pears, berries, fresh figs, etc). If you need some pointers on how to cook up some delicious stewed fruit take a look at this recipe from a previous post, just omit the cinnamon, orange rind and juice as it will be too many flavours thrown into the mix.

Yum, yum and yum. All you need to serve this to crumbly perfection is some freshly whipped cream and a large spoon for shoveling.

LEMON, CARDAMON & PISTACHIO CRUMBLE

INGREDIENTS (serves 4)
50g all-purpose gluten-free flour (or standard flour)
50g ground almonds
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
85g butter – roughly chopped into 1-2cm chunks
50g rolled oats
75g demerara sugar
50g shelled pistachios (raw and unsalted) – roughly chopped
Finely grated rind of 1 lemon
Pinch of salt
3 cups stewed fruit – such as apples, rhubarb, pears, fresh figs

METHOD
1. Preheat the oven to 200°C.
2. Combine the flour, ground almonds and cardamom in a large mixing bowl. Add the chopped butter and rub into the dry mix with your fingertips. You don’t need to spend too much time getting the mix to look like breadcrumbs, just get it to a point where the butter is somewhat incorporated into its surrounds with the finished mix still being coarse and chunky.

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3. To this mix add the oats, demerara sugar, pistachios, lemon rind and salt and stir well to incorporate.

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4. Put the stewed fruit into an oven-proof dish and sprinkle the crumble over the top without pressing it down.
5. Bake for 25-30 minutes until golden brown on top. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for 5-10 minutes then spoon into bowls and serve with copious dollops of freshly whipped cream.

Crumble_5

I haven’t had much time to get creative in the kitchen this week. I’ve been preoccupied. With quinoa mostly, but more on that later. The usual dinner suspects keep doing the rounds, challenging our loyalty to particular mealtime favourites. I find I go through phases with food…cooking in one culinary direction until I get a bit bored of the flavours then moving on to something more interesting and new. I’ve been wondering what it would take to dislodge Jerusalem from its firm attachment to my hip. What it took was a book which taps into both the food-loving and voyeuristic parts of my personality and allowed me to have a long, languid nosey into the lives of some of the most interesting foodies in the world.

And the world is no stranger to the well-travelled, well-connected Todd Selby. Many of you have no doubt heard of, if not read, his first book ‘The Selby is in your place’. His follow-up ‘Edible Selby‘ is the quintessential coffee-table book, something you can pick up and lose yourself in whether you have just a few minutes or an hour to spare. It’s not a cookbook, more a visual feast of seaside taco shacks, rooftop farms, open-air jungle eateries, avant-garde restaurants, Japanese drinking holes and so many more beautiful, curious, weird and enviable ways that people are living life with food at its heart. I have to try very hard not to hate them.


There are, however, a few recipes dotted throughout its pages and a couple in particular seemed rather appealing. One involving aubergines and the other strawberries. Funnily enough said vegetable is on the cusp of being out of season whilst said fruit is just embarking on its summer journey. I’ll tackle the strawberry cordial recipe in a couple of weeks at an upcoming picnic…maybe with a splash of Campari snuck in while no one is looking.

I’m slightly saddened that aubergines are now relegated to the ‘specials’ bin as they get heavier and mushier by the day. Still, that’s what seasonality is all about and it can only be out with the old and in with the new, shedding as few tears as possible along the way.


This dip, therefore, is my last hurrah to aubergines until next year. The recipes in Edible Selby are rudimentary, hand-scrawled notes and more often than not are missing vital quantities. From the list of ingredients provided I came up with this incarnation below, which is very delicious indeed. The flavours are soft and subtle so it’s best served with something simple such as warm flatbreads. And speaking of warm, if you can time it so that you make this just prior to devouring, it will be at its best. The slightly warm aubergines enhance the nutty, fragrant flavours provided by the walnuts and caraway seeds.

AUBERGINE, WALNUT AND CARAWAY SEED DIP

INGREDIENTS
1 medium aubergine – approx 300g
50g walnut halves
1/2 tsp caraway seeds
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp red wine vinegar
Juice of 1 lemon
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

METHOD
1. Preheat the oven to 180°C and bake the aubergine (whole, skin on) for 30-35 minutes until soft. Remove from the oven and allow to cool.
2. Roast the walnuts at the same temperature for approximately 6-8 minutes until lightly golden – watching carefully so they don’t burn – then roughly chop.
3. Toast the caraway seeds in a frying pan for a few minutes over a high heat until you can smell the aromas begin to release. Remove from the heat and grind to a coarse powder in a mortar and pestle.
4. When the aubergine is cool enough to handle, peel and discard the skin and roughly chop the flesh. Place the flesh in a colander and allow to drain for 10 minutes.


5. Put the aubergine, walnuts, caraway seeds, olive oil, red wine vinegar and lemon juice into a food processor, or use a stick blender, and blitz until smooth. Season well with plenty of freshly ground black pepper and a generous pinch or two of sea salt. Blitz once more and serve in a bowl with some chopped flat-leaf parsley to garnish.


With Christmas lurking menacingly on the sidelines I’m reminded of both the stresses and the pleasures which come with the closing of the year. I feel a little bit like the Grinch but I don’t think I’m alone in saying that I mostly look forward to Christmas being done and dusted. It’s far too often more of a burden than a time of excitement and anticipation. What I’d like to encourage with my own fledgling family is less focus on commercial pressures such as presents and more time shared together in and around the kitchen.

With a little bit of effort food can be such a great gift. I’d much rather labour in the kitchen than in the shops and knowing that time and energy has been spent on something delicious will surely be well received. Maybe there are people out there who enjoy the shopping process, but if you’re anything like me I just try and get it over with as quickly as possible and often buy something just to put an end to my misery, rather than actually thinking about the person on the receiving end. To this end I’m championing a return to the kitchen for Christmas gift-giving. It can be something as simple as a fresh batch of shortbread tied up with a string and a rose (or a wing and a prayer).

These are super easy to make and require very little baking prowess. My fail-proof tips for this recipe are to make sure you are precise with the measurements and be careful to watch them towards the end of the baking time so they don’t overcook. The recipe makes two rolls which yeild approximately 12 cookies each. I usually bake one roll and put the other one in the freezer for another day. Just allow to defrost completely then follow steps 7-9 below.


LEMON AND CARDAMON SHORTBREAD

INGREDIENTS (makes approximately 24 cookies)
250g butter – softened but not melted
1 cup icing sugar
2 cups flour
1 cup cornflour
zest of 1 lemon
4 cardamon pods – shells removed and seeds ground to a fine powder in a mortar and pestle

METHOD
1. Preheat the oven to 180°C and line a tray with baking paper.
2. Cream the butter and icing sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer until pale, creamy and fluffy.
3. Add the lemon zest and cardamon to the butter mixture and beat again to combine.
4. Sift the flour and cornflour together into a separate bowl, then slowly add to the butter mixture, incorporating as you go, until the dough comes together.
5. Tip the dough onto a clean, dry surface and knead gently for a minute until smooth.
6. Divide the dough in half and roll each half into a log shape, approximately 4cm in diameter. Wrap each roll in clingfilm and leave in the fridge for one hour.
7. Remove from the fridge and cut the roll into slices approximately 1cm thick. Place on the baking paper and prick decorative holes on the surface with a fork.



8. Bake for 15-20 minutes until lightly golden. The high butter content means they can burn very easily so make sure you set a timer for 15 minutes, check their progress and cook a further five minutes if needed. All ovens differ slightly but my batch took the full 20 minutes.
9. Remove from the oven and allow to cool on the tray for 5 minutes, then place the cookies onto a wire rack to cool completely.

I can smell it. My nostrils are being tickled by the onset of warmer days…blooming flowers, steamy grass and hot asphalt. Not to mention those indecipherable dawn scents which tell you resolutely that summer is just around the corner, the smell of hope and happiness.

It seems appropriate then that we should head to one of our favourite beaches for a few days of much needed laziness. Where three outfits are packed but only one ends up being worn…where shoes are an unnecessary hindrance to the righteous passing of sand between the toes…where it’s okay to close the curtains on a sunny day so you can watch dvds in bed…where appetite is not a prerequisite for eating and an ice cold beer is always within easy reach. Aside from a few token walks along the beach and watching stormy, tropical spring skies come and go we were indeed spectacularly lazy.


Doing nothing is an art form though and I can’t always seem to completely shut off and be content with literally doing nothing. No prizes for guessing that the kitchen is where I channel any holiday restlessness that might present itself. True to form, I don’t recall having an appetite for the duration of our holiday. One meal had barely passed our lips before we were discussing what to cook for the next. And though we (unrealistically) figured chocolate would suffice for sweet treats, puddings slipped and fell onto our plates night after night. I had packed very meagre baking supplies but managed to piece together a super tasty lemon delicious pudding and a moreish apple crumble (both being equally delicious for breakfast if there are leftovers…oh go on…you’re on holiday!).


So with holidays fast approaching I thought it timely to post a few easy meal ideas to take away with you. Simplicity being key, not only where ingredients are concerned, but also considering the limited kitchen implements which may be to hand.

With this criteria in mind the most notable is a fantastically simple and versatile savoury dish involving the humble cannellini bean. We always head to the beach with a healthy stock of tinned beans in tow. One very basic means of cooking them can spawn a myriad of meals. These are the basic steps for the beans with a few ideas on how to fancy them up depending on what you have available…

BASIC CANNELLINI BEANS

INGREDIENTS (serves two)
3 tbsp olive oil
2 cloves garlic – thinly sliced
1 x 400g tin cannellini beans – rinsed and drained
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

METHOD
1. Heat the olive in a frying pan over a moderate heat, add the garlic and fry gently for a minute or two without allowing it to colour.
2. Add the beans to the pan and stir well to incorporate into the garlic and oil. Add the red wine vinegar, stir well again and allow to cook for a further 2-3 minutes.
3. Remove from the heat and season well with salt and pepper.

And that’s it! Couldn’t be easier. Here’s some ideas on how to serve them:


- Add a handful of roughly chopped flat-leaf parsley to the beans and top with a couple of fried eggs for breakfast (also delicious with crispy bacon on the side, but then what isn’t?).
- Grill some cheese onto a few slices of bread and spoon the bean mix on top. Pile on some caramelised red onions, a leafy green salad and a handful of toasted seeds. Finish off with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon juice (above).

I made this deluxe version below for dinner last night and as well as being super tasty was very quick and easy with minimal cooking involved. I highly recommend soaking the sliced red onion in cold water for 10 minutes prior to serving raw. I love the flavour of red onion but usually give it a wide berth as I’m not fond of tasting its after effects the following day. The soaking process significantly reduces its intensity leaving just the fantastic flavour without the death-by-breath repercussions.

The herbier the better as far as I’m concerned but don’t worry if you can’t get your hands on all these herbs – just increase the volume of what you have got to compensate for anything you omit.


HERBY CANNELLINI BEANS WITH PRESERVED LEMON & GOAT FETA

INGREDIENTS (serves two)
Basic cannellini bean mix – as per above recipe
1/2 preserved lemon – flesh discarded, skins rinsed and finely chopped
1/2 red onion – thinly sliced and soaked in cold water for 10 minutes
Small bunch of asparagus – ends snapped off and lower-half of stalk peeled (peeling yields a more tender spear but if they are especially thin don’t worry about peeling them, just snap off the fibrous ends)
Rocket – large handful, leaves torn
Flat-leaf parsley – large handful, roughly chopped
Coriander – large handful, roughly chopped
Mint – small handful, leaves torn
Basil – small handful, leaves torn
Fennel fronds – small handful, roughly chopped
50g goat feta – broken into 2cm chunks
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Juice of half a lemon
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

METHOD
1. Make basic bean mix, remove from the heat and set aside. Drain the onion slices, pat dry on kitchen paper and add to the beans along with the preserved lemon. Stir gently to incorporate the flavours and leave to cool.
2. Put a tablespoon of olive oil in a frying pan over a medium-high heat. Add the asparagus spears and cook until just starting to char, tossing regularly to cook evenly. Be careful not to overcook – 2 to 4 minutes in the pan is sufficient depending on how thick the spears are. They should be tender, but not soft, with a little bit of crunch.
3. Assemble the salad by putting the asparagus, rocket, fresh herbs, goat feta and the cooled bean mix into a large bowl.
4. Drizzle with 1 tbsp of extra virgin olive oil and the lemon juice. Season well with salt and pepper, toss well and serve.

Dear Summer…ready when you are!

Thankfully, what I loathe about moving house is finally done and dusted and I can now spend hours, weeks most likely, rearranging objects until I find the best configuration for my aesthetic pleasure. And for others, I hasten to add. Lest we assume it’s purely for selfish reasons. I’ve quickly realized that home is defined by the people and objects you love, not only by the walls that surround or hold them. I was very attached to our tiny apartment but not a tear was shed nor a backward glance glanced when I handed back the keys. All it took was a few plants and fresh flowers to breathe new life into our new abode and hey presto…home! And while the tempestuous Auckland climate continues to tease us with its on-again-off-again weather at least the abundance of Spring blooms are giving me hope of summer yet to come. If my eyes could eat they would dine on Sweetpeas year-round. Oh what a feast.



And speaking of feasts…we’ve had a few this week. Once we got over the necessary bout of just-moved-house-takeaway-meals it was onwards and very much upwards thanks to the brilliant Jerusalem. We were patting ourselves on the back last night for managing to conquer four new recipes in our first week including this tasty, herby, green pepper salad below.


A divine rice and lentil dish was cooked three times: firstly true to the recipe, secondly fancied up with a bit of creative license and, thirdly, a poor man’s version as the cupboards grew bare at week’s end. Mejadra is an ancient Arab dish of spicy rice and lentils with fried onions served with a yoghurt and cucumber sauce. The authors refer to this as their go-to comfort food and it is indeed a very comforting dish with a warming spiciness, sweet crispy onions and rich earthiness guaranteed to wrap you in the bosom of your childhood.

Having said that, Mejadra is not something I would automatically think of cooking when in need of culinary comfort. Oh to be that sophisticated. When I get a hankering for comfort food it’s usually accompanied by factors such as crappy weather, physical exhaustion or, of course, the humble hangover. Fried, cheesy, nutritionally-questionable food is what I’m seeking at moments like these. And while I’d love to say Mejadra is top of my list, what will actually fix the need for me is far less salubrious. Chips. Chips and tomato sauce. It’s as simple as that. Well almost that simple.

Seeing as I’m a tad more sophisticated in my mid-thirties than I was in my youth I’m now championing the polenta chip as my go-to comfort food. The very great Coco’s Cantina makes a ridiculously delicious version of these bad boys and may well be responsible for my recent fixation. I’ve tried on a couple of occasions to make them at home, both with utterly disastrous results. First there was the slightly frenzied fit of rage in which I attempted to salvage the chips from the base of the pan with a fish slice. Then there was the brokenhearted deflation as I was forced to serve a pile of crumbled, unrecognisable scrapings to accompany a rather delightful salad. Turns out you need a non-stick fry pan. Obvious? Maybe. But I’ve been afraid of these kitchen tools since we found out that the toxic Teflon coating was flaking off the pan and into our food. Non-stick technology has since improved so I recently reinvested in an ‘eco’ pan with instantaneously marvelous results. Crispy, golden and not a crumb left behind in the pan. They even looked like chips.

This version below is from Hugh’s Veg Everyday and the results yield a perfectly comforting bowl of highly crispy, slightly cheesy, herby, salty goodness. Depending on your emotional or physical state you could cheat and use tomato sauce out of a bottle but this recipe below is about as easy as it comes and is so much better than anything you’ll buy in a store.

CHILLI, CHEESE AND ROSEMARY POLENTA CHIPS WITH TOMATO SAUCE


INGREDIENTS (serves four)
[polenta chips]
4 tbsp olive oil
1 garlic clove – thinly sliced
1 red chilli – deseeded and finely chopped, or a good pinch of chilli flakes
1 tbsp rosemary – finely chopped
150g fine polenta
100g parmesan – grated
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

[tomato sauce]
2 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves – thinly sliced
2 x 400g tins crushed tomatoes
1 bay leaf
pinch of sugar (this balances out the acidity of the tomatoes)

METHOD
1. Make the polenta by heating 2 tbsp of the olive oil in a frying over a medium-low heat. Add the garlic and chilli and sweat gently for a minute or two – don’t let the garlic brown. Add the rosemary and remove from the heat.
2. Put 800ml water in a large saucepan and bring to the boil. Pour the polenta into the water in a thin stream, stirring all the time. When smooth, allow it to return to a simmer and cook for 4-5 minutes, stirring regularly. Remove from the heat, add the garlic, chilli and rosemary mixture and give it another good stir. Add the grated cheese and season well with salt and pepper, then mix well again.
3. Tip the polenta onto a cold surface – directly onto the kitchen bench is ideal – and spread smoothly with a wooden spoon into a disc approximately 2cm thick. Leave to cool completely. The polenta won’t stick to the bench so you don’t need to worry about greasing the surface you pour it onto.
4. While the polenta is cooling, make the tomato sauce by heating the olive oil in a saucepan over a medium-low heat, then add the garlic and sweat gently for a couple of minutes without allowing it to colour. Add the tomatoes to the saucepan along with the bay leaf, bring to a gentle simmer then cook for 20-30 minutes, stirring often until you have a thick, pulpy sauce. Season with a decent pinch of sugar and plenty of sea salt and pepper.


5. When the polenta is cool and firm, cut into fingers approximately 2cm wide. Heat 2 tbsp olive oil in a non-stick pan over a medium-high heat and fry the polenta chips for 2-3 minutes on each side until they have a lovely golden crust. Serve immediately with the tomato sauce on the side for dipping and paint charts in the background for added colour.

It’s slim kitchen-pickings this week…we move house on Saturday and little by little, day by day, our tiny apartment becomes more of a shadow of its former self. Only the essentials remain in the pantry and the recipe books are already installed on the shelf of our new home. All except two that is. The ones I can’t bear to part with for even a day. And while the kitchen is bare my ever-diminishing jar of preserved lemons will be the last thing I pack.


You’ll notice Hugh has taken a back seat to my newest acquisition, Jerusalem. My chest constricted when I started leafing through this ridiculously beautiful cookbook, my quickening pulse the ultimate sign that this is indeed a book worth owning. I’ve bleated on about the fabulous Ottolenghi book on many an occasion and Jerusalem is the latest release from the very talented Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi.

There are so many great things about this book…it’s well written and engaging, the design and photography are beautiful, the anecdotes heartfelt, the explanations of local ingredients are honest and evocative “Za’atar is sharp, warm and slightly pungent, almost at one with the smell of goats’ dung, smoke from a far-off fire, soil baked in the sun, and – dare we say it – sweat”.

What I love about this new book is that it feels very personal. It is directed at the heart of the family kitchen with all the soul-warming nourishment that accompanies that notion. We get a glimpse into the history of the city and the upbringings of both chefs and how this guided their respective careers in the food industry. A book like this makes me wish I was brought up in a country with a well-defined cuisine where dishes were, and still are, claimed and defended with great passion. But then I guess we’ll always have the pavlova. Or will we…

I find myself a little conflicted with a book like this. On the one hand I can’t wait to dive in and try the torturously great-looking recipes, on the other I’m overwhelmed with anxiety at how I’m going to find the time to do it justice! Where to begin?? Seasonality is my starting point with ‘current obsession’ coming in a close second. Aubergines. Yes indeed. They are cheap as chips at the moment and gloriously in-season…large, shiny, rotund, the deepest of deep purples and lightweight (this, apparently, is the sign of a good specimen). I can’t get enough of aubergines right now. And one thing I knew Jerusalem would abound in is great ways to cook with this aesthetically-pleasing vegetable. And by happy coincidence my first foray into the glories of Jerusalem also involves preserved lemons. Well whadayaknow…

With the usual interruptions from The Baby I had to prepare this when I had time at hand and this is a great meal for doing just that…I made the chermoula hours prior, the salad can be assembled ahead of time (just don’t add the almonds until you are ready to dish) and I roasted the aubergines about an hour out from serving. The whole thing can be served warm or at room temperature so it’s a good meal if you can only grab snippets of time throughout the day to cook.

I wanted to make a gluten-free version so used quinoa in place of bulgar wheat and it worked really well. By all means revert to the original depending on your diet.

CHERMOULA AUBERGINE WITH QUINOA & YOGHURT


INGREDIENTS (serves four)
2 cloves garlic – crushed to a paste with a generous pinch of sea salt
2 tsp ground cumin
2 tsp ground coriander (or I used whole seeds, lightly toasted then crushed up in a mortar and pestle)
1 tsp chilli flakes
1 tsp sweet paprika
2 tbsp preserved lemon – skin only, rinsed and finely chopped (discard the flesh)
140ml olive oil
2 medium aubergines
150g quinoa (or bulgur wheat)
50g sultanas – soaked in hot water for 10 minutes, then drained
10g fresh coriander – roughly chopped (plus a few extra leaves to garnish)
50g pitted green olives (or black also fine, I used Kalamata)
30g flaked almonds – lightly toasted
3 spring onions – chopped
1.5 tbsp lemon juice
120g Greek yoghurt


METHOD
1. Preheat the oven to 200°C.
2. Make the chermoula by mixing together in a small bowl the garlic, cumin, coriander, chilli, paprika, preserved lemon and two thirds of the olive oil.
3. Cut the aubergines in half lengthwise. Score the flesh of each half with deep, diagonal criss-cross scores, making sure not to pierce the skin. Spread the chermoula evenly over each half, place cut-side up on a baking sheet and roast in the oven for approximately 40 minutes until completely soft.



4. Rinse the quinoa in cold water, rubbing the grains between your fingertips, then drain. Repeat a couple of times until the water runs clear. Bring a small saucepan of water to the boil, add the quinoa and simmer for 12-15 minutes until cooked. The grains should still have a bit of a crunch to them. Drain in a sieve and spread the grains out onto a board to allow the excess moisture to steam off.
5. Put the quinoa into a bowl along with the remaining oil, sultanas, herbs, olives, almonds, spring onion, lemon juice and a pinch of sea salt. Toss well to combine.
6. Serve the aubergines warm or at room temperature. Place one half onto each serving plate and spoon the salad on top, allowing some to fall from both sides. Spoon some yoghurt on top, sprinkle with chopped coriander and finish with a drizzle of olive oil.

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