Cooking

Three Ps

Three exotic plants beginning with 'p' have come into my life this week.
The first was a bunch of lovely proteas from Melissa & Stewart's garden.

I love getting up really close to flowers - it is almost like looking
into their souls - and it is incredible what can be seen.






The second was the beautiful, weird, stunning (take your pick of
adjective), Sturt's Desert Pea which is flowering now in Kings Park.









And the third exotic was a pomegranate which I bought yesterday.





I have eaten pomegranate before, but have never bought one and prepared
it myself. I couldn't believe how many seeds were nestled inside.




These little pink jewels explode in your mouth with the most delicious
fresh taste. Here is my bounty all ready to be sprinkled over tonight's
salad. They work equally well in a green salad or a fruit salad.








We probably should be eating them with a middle eastern dish, but
tonight we are having the salad with an eggplant parmagiana.

Delicious zucchini flowers

For ages I have wanted to cook and eat a zucchini flower and have been
frustrated that it is not possible to buy them (or not in a shop
anywhere near me). So I decided that I would have to grow my own. My
plants are now at the flowering stage and this week I picked, cooked and
ate some of the beautiful yellow flowers. I dipped them into a very
light batter and quickly fried them. Inside the batter, the flowers
melted into a custard like consistency and they were delicious.






I now know why it is not possible to buy them. The flowers are
incredibly delicate and would not last a minute if they were on a shop
shelf.






They really need to be cooked and eaten as soon as they are picked.



I made sure that I picked only the male flowers so that I will get the
added bonus of lots of fresh zucchinis. Yum.

A memorable meal

Some years ago my mother returned from a holiday and announced that she
had eaten a 'memorable' meal in a restaurant where she had been staying.
When we asked her what she had eaten she said that she couldn't
remember!




I have eaten many restaurant meals - some of which may have been
'memorable', but very few of them can I now recall. One of them,
however, has stayed with me for a few years and I have tried to recreate
it at home without much success. It is more of a dish than a meal and
perhaps because it is simple and humble food cooked to perfection that I
remember it so well. In a small Greek restaurant in Melbourne I ate a
plate of perfect broad beans which were served as an entree. They were
cooked simply and served with lashings of olive oil, lemon juice, salt &
pepper and dill and they tasted divine. As mentioned, I have tried to
recreate this at home, but have not been able to match the flavour of
those beans. Then it occurred to me that if I grew my own I might have
more luck.



I planted my packet of seeds




and within days the tiny plants had appeared.






They grew




and grew




and my mouth started to water in anticipation of my memorable meal.



Then the flowers appeared




and a ladybird




and then, at last, broad beans. It was time for my memorable meal.




I picked, I spent hours painstakingly peeling off the tough outer layer
on the beans,




I cooked, I used only the best organic olive oil, the juice from the
lemons on my own tree, freshly grated pepper, the flakes of the best sea
salt and a dusting of dill leaves. They were to be eaten with tender
chops from a lamb which had been grown on the farm of a friend in the
wheatbelt. The scene was set for a memorable meal..........



The night air was pierced by an almighty scream. I had lavished so much
attention on the broad beans that I had forgotten to watch the chops and
they were pouring out enough smoke to activate the smoke alarm. Instead
of sitting down to my memorable meal I was rushing about opening all the
doors and windows and poking the alarm with a broom handle.



I did eventually get to enjoy my broad beans which had been months in
the making but, sadly, they were not memorable. However, I am not giving
up. Tomorrow I am going to pick only the smallest and most tender beans.
They will be too small for their outer layer to have formed and again I
will cook and oil and juice and dust with dill. They will be eaten
without chops and smoke alarms, and they will be memorable. In fact, I
am hoping they will make me smile.

Bad timing

This is not really the sort of thing you want to be doing just a few
days before going away, but these little cumquats were looking for a
home and I just couldn't say no.



I have had some failures in the past with marmalade so I decided to try
the new CSR setting sugar. I soaked

and
boiled and it worked.




Now I have to get back to my research.

Blimey

Believe it or not - these are limes.



Some years ago I planted a lime tree in a large pot, the idea being that
I would be able to pick a fresh lime for my occasional gin and tonic.
That worked well for the first few years when the tree produced only a
small amount of fruit. Of course, over time the tree has grown bigger
and more productive and there is no way I can drink enough G & Ts to use
up the limes while still remaining on two feet and reasonably coherent.
This year, I had the biggest crop ever. My lovely little green limes
have all grown as big as lemons and turned yellow on the tree. I could
have juiced them and frozen the juice, but I have a bag of frozen lime
ice blocks in the freezer from last season. What to do?



Maggie to the rescue.




Looking through Maggie Beer's wonderful book

I found she had written a section on limes and
she says that green limes are simply under-ripe while a ripe yellow lime
has much more aroma, flavour and juice. She is right. I was amazed at
the amount of juice which came from this fruit.




She also says that they are interchangeable with lemons for most uses
and bring an extra tang to a dish as they are stronger in flavour. Based
on that advice I have been squeezing lime juice into everything and it
really does add an extra zing.
Sticking with the interchangeable idea, I decided to see if I could use
limes instead of lemons and make a lime curd. I could and I did and it
tastes fantastic.




Then I had to decide how to use this lime curd so I decided to turn
Nigella Lawson's lemon gems into lime gems.






Here is the recipe.



Lemon/Lime Gems

126g vegetable shortening, softened

125g unsalted butter, softened

75g caster sugar

1 large egg yolk

1 tbs lemon/lime juice

zest of 1 lemon/lime

1/4 tsp salt

275 g plain flour

50g ground almonds

25g cornflour




Preheat oven to 180 degrees.

In large bowl, beat the vegetable shortening, butter and sugar together,
then add the egg yolk, lemon/lime juice, zest and salt. Gently fold in
the flour in two goes, then the ground almonds and cornflour. Take care
not to be too heavy-handed, as rigorous blending will make it very
sticky. If too sticky put the dough in the fridge to chill for a while.

Form into balls the size of cherry tomatoes and place the dough 2 cms
apart on prepared baking trays. Make an indentation with your thumb in
each biscuit and cook for 20 - 25 minutes. (Mine cooked much more
quickly than this so keep an eye on them while cooking because they
brown very quickly.) They should appear golden and firm.

As soon as they come out of the oven, fill each biscuit with lemon/lime
curd. When they all filled, transfer to wire racks to cool.

Makes about 40.



Using the only remaining green lime on the tree,







I think it is time for a G & T so that I can raise it in a toast to the
not so humble lime.

Fesha's biscuits

When I was a small child (when dinosaurs still roamed the earth), my
family lived next door to an elderly couple by the name of Fletcher. I
cannot remember Mr Fletcher very well, but have vivid memories of Mrs
Fletcher. I used to wander next door and help her when she was
baking. Whether I wandered in or whether my mother took me I am not
sure, but it was in the days when, sadly, children did not have to be as
protected as they are now.


As I was about three or four years old at the time I doubt that I was of
much help in the baking department, I was probably more into licking the
spoons and bowls and eating the sultanas which went into these biscuits.







Because of my extreme youth, I was unable to say Fletcher and Mrs
Fletcher became 'Fesha'. These biscuits, therefore, became 'Fesha's
biscuits' and remain so to this day. Everytime I make them I think of
Fesha's wonderfully warm old fashioned kitchen with its lovely big
walk-in pantry and I picture myself perched up on a stool so that I
could reach the bench. I pop a few sultanas into my mouth and remember
dear gentle Fesha.



Here is the recipe for Fesha's biscuits. They are similiar to rock buns,
but have a slightly lighter texture and are rolled in cornflakes before
cooking.



Fesha's Biscuits



125g butter

3/4 cup of sultanas

pinch of salt

1/2 cup sugar

1 1/2 cups self-raising flour

1 egg

Cornflakes for rolling



Cream the butter and sugar, add the egg then the flour and salt.

Break off small pieces and roll in cornflakes.

Bake in moderate oven for 10 to 15 minutes or until golden brown.

Best
ever cake

Here is a recipe for the best ever cake with thanks to Nigella Lawson.
Strawberry sour cream streusel cake
3/4 cup (165g caster sugar)

320g plain flour

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda

240g chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1.5cm cubes

1 cup (240g) sour cream

1 large egg

2 tsp vanilla extract

2 tsp demerara sugar
Strawberry puree

2 tsp cornflour

2 tsp vanilla extract

225g strawberries, hulled

3 tbs strawberry jam
For puree, make a paste of cornflour and vanilla, and add to blender
with berries and jam. Puree until smooth. Set aside.
Preheat oven to 170 degrees C. Grease a 23cm springform pan.
Combine caster sugar, flour, baking powder and bicarbonate of soda in a
large bowl. Rub in butter cubes with your fingertips until the mixture
resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Remove 1/2 cup and set aside, then add
sour cream, egg and vanilla to the main bowl. Mix well with a woooden
spoon.

Using a little over half the cake batter, drop dollops of batter into
pan. Pat batter across bottom of pan and about 2.5cm up sides; mixture
will be very sticky and somewhat uneven. Add strawberry puree, making an
even layer across bottom of pan and leaving a rim of dough above it.

Cover with remaining cake mixture.



Use a fork to combine reserved flour and butter mixture with demerara
sugar. Sprinkle evenly over cake, then bake for 45 minutes or until
lightly golden.


Cool in pan, then serve to a madly cheering crowd of family and friends
who will think you are a domestic goddess for making the best ever cake.




Mine doesn't look very pretty but trust me, it tastes wonderful.

A bottling
good time

You have to be slightly insane to do this, but you do get a tremendous
feeling of satisfaction when you see all those bottles filled with
pears. In fact I feel a bit like a squirrel building up a store of nuts
for the coming winter. You also really have to enjoy eating pears.



These are definitely not destined to be entrants in the preserving
section at the Royal Show. I would say that the fruit was thrown in
rather than arranged decoratively.








I wonder who picked this little guy. Someone obviously thought he was
cute.








The next morning the sun shone through window onto the bottles and
turned the pears into peaches.





After tripping the fuse no less than four times and disrupting John's
football viewing; covering me and the floor in sticky pear syrup;
developing a mild case of RSI as a result of all the peeling; and
turning the kitchen into a bomb site, I had 15 bottles of pears to show
for my afternoon's work. I would have had 16, but one bottle broke in
the preserving kit. Another sticky mess. I had to stop when I ran out of
rings for the lids, and I still have four boxes of pears waiting for a
home (or a bottle). I am hoping they won't ripen too quickly so that I
have time to recover before I am strong enough to cope with another
afternoon of bottling. I knew we shouldn't have picked so many.

Citrus
Crisis

I have long had an aversion to blood oranges, the name is bad enough but
when you cut one open they actually look as though blood is running
through them and it turns my stomach. I was catching up on some blog
reading today and was interested to see that

Raheel Khaliqhas beaten me to it and written about blood oranges. She too
has noticed that they are now called blush oranges so apparently I am
not the only person who had a problem with blood oranges. I have seen a
lot of recipes lately using blood/blush oranges - all of which sounded
delicious if only I could bring myself to cut one open. Last week, when
I saw a ruby grapefruit (I don't think I have ever seen a blood
grapefruit - perhaps the grapefruit marketing people are more on the
ball), I thought I would be able to ease myself gently into overcoming
my aversion if I started using red citrus without the blood.


So I made a salad using the grapefruit with cucumber, avocado and
crumbled feta.


It was very good, even if I do say so myself. However, I think I still
have a long way to go before I can actually use a blood orange,
especially after seeing the pictures
Raheel khaliq has posted which
confirm my worst fears about blood oranges - they look as if they are
full of blood!

What is it?

In a very roundabout sort of way, this picture reminds me of my
childhood. I think it might have been on the kids' page of my mother's
weekly magazine that strange pictures were published with the caption
"what is it" and I would spend ages trying to guess the answer. The
answer to this strange picture is Chocolate Chews.


I have been making these for nearly 30 years and they are still a great
favourite. They were always a good standby for the school lunch boxes
and now that there are no longer any lunch boxes to fill, they are a
wonderful sweet treat with a cup of tea or coffee. They are ridiculously
easy and quick to make (probably why I make them so often).

The
recipe was published in 1975 in a book compiled by the Nursing Mothers'
Association of Australia, my copy of which is looking a bit the worse
for wear.


The recipes are all very simple to make (designed obviously for nursing
mothers with little time for cooking and baking) and when they were
young Melissa and Amanda also used to enjoy cooking from it. Mandy was
very pleased with herself recently when she found a copy in a
second-hand book sale. I wonder if she will be putting chocolate chews
in her childrens' lunch boxes in a few years. If she does that would be
a nice tradition.

These days, there is no such thing as the Nursing Mothers' Association
and they are known as the Australian Breastfeeding Association. I wonder
why it has become politically incorrect to be a nursing mother. Somehow
'breastfeeder' doesn't sound nearly as nice as 'nursing mother', but
maybe I'm just showing my age.

Faterh's Day

I have not really felt like writing about frivolous things lately, but I
think I am getting my 'mojo' back and, once again, can record the trivia
of my life.

In our family we always look forward to a celebration, not least because
of the card Melissa will make for the occasion. Yesterday was Father's
Day and we celebrated with a family lunch. Melissa came good with one of
her cards


and I cooked a lunch which, even if I do say so myself, was so good it
has to be shared. All the recipes come from the August edition of
Delicious magazine and are by Belinda Jeffery. I made:

Ruby chard, cheese & almond tart (I was able to use the ruby chard from
my garden)

Crunchy rosemary potatoes

Slow-cooked red capsicums and tomatoes (has to be tasted to be believed
- really good)

Watercress, fennel, pear & pecan salad with lemon-pressed dressing,
followed by

Muscat-poached pear & almond cake

This photo is not very good quality because I have taken it from the
magazine, but it gives an idea of how pretty everything looked on the
plate.


The cake, however, is the real thing. I thought the edges were a little
overcooked, however the texture of the cake was beautifully moist and
flavoursome.

It is not often that all the flavours on a plate complement each other
so well, but everyone agreed they all worked perfectly together.

I can now confess that I had a culinary disaster just ten minutes before
everyone arrived. One of the tarts I had made ended up face down on the
kitchen floor. I decided to apply the 30 second rule, ie if the food is
not on the floor for longer than this, it is safe to eat. Fortunately it
was still in its tin, had remained largely intact, and didn't look too
terrible when it was scraped up. However, I made sure that I served
everyone else the surviving tart and I had the splattered one. The 30
second rule must have worked because I suffered no consequences.

Comfort
Food

On Friday it was the sewing room which was strangely comforting, today
it is my poppyseed and lemon cake. What is it about a cake baked in a
loaf tin which is so pleasing? It must be the memories it evokes of
childhood when Mums stayed at home and there was always something
freshly baked sitting on the kitchen bench when we arrived home from
school. Biscuits, cupcakes or a stack of fresh pikelets didn't last long
when four hungry mouths came through the door at the end of the school
day. When a cake was needed for a cake stall, or someone was coming for
afternoon tea, the loaf cake was a great standby and could be varied by
simply changing a few ingredients.



I felt the need to bake a cake in a loaf tin (I have no idea why) and
had recently cut out a recipe for a poppyseed and lemon cake by David
Herbert who writes every week for The Australian which I thought would
do nicely. The recipe called for 250 grams of butter, four eggs, half a
bucket of flour and sugar etc, and would have fed half the city as well
as putting 10 kilos on my hips. So after some quick modifications my
more modest cake was produced.


I always think it is best to make small cakes, that way the guilt lasts
only a few days compared to all week if you have to eat your way through
a huge cake. Much better to get all that guilt over and done with.

Kitchen Utensils

That Mrs Beeton was quite a gal in the kitchen and she had some
wonderful utensils. Some (most) of her food is completely alien to us
now, but her utensils do not seem so unfamiliar.

I wonder what she would think of my latest kitchen gadget. It looks
positively spaceage compared to her chafing dishes and dutch ovens.
This wonderful tool makes eating apples so much easier and we are now
eating a lot more of them.

It
was introduced to me by D of Rose Cottage fame and I have now bought one
for Melissa and Amanda. For $3.95 from Ikea it would have to be the best
kitchen bargain around.
I can't resist just one more piece of grossness:


I love Mrs B's reference to sending the dish to table. If I sent
these dishes to table, I would be shot at dawn.

A Culinary Horror Story

I
thought I had seen all the treasures in Mum's cupboard, but yesterday
this emerged and, I have to say, she has saved the best for last. Mrs
Beeton's All About Cookery was given to my grandmother in 1909. She used
to work for Fry's Chocolates in England where she hand painted the tops
of chocolate boxes and the book is signed by Mrs Fry. My sister still
has one of the paintings she did and it is exquisite.

This
book is right up there with the most ghoulish modern day horror story.
The first tasty morsel to catch my eye was this delight:


Brain Sauce for Sheep's Head!!! Sorry, but I wouldn't give you a
ha'penny for this, let alone a whole 2d. But wait, it gets better, or
perhaps I should say worse:



There
is even a contribution from "the colonies":


I can just imagine the outcry if such a recipe was published today.
People are jailed for trying to smuggle these birds out of the country.
Just think what would happen if they put them in a pie! A word of
warning, do not read on if you are feeling squeamish:


How appropriate that the next recipe after the Terrapin is "for
sickroom". That is where I imagine you would be after you had prepared
the Terrapin, let alone eaten them.

Sorry Mrs Beeton, but I'll take Maggie Beer any day over you. However, I
can't help wondering if, in another hundred years, people will think
that what we eat today is disgusting. No doubt they will.

Right about now I am thinking that my sister got the better deal - the
beautiful hand painted chocolate box lid, while I got the horror story.


I hope I haven't turned anyone off their next meal. I am off to the
sewing room to try to settle my stomach!

Lemony Loveliness

My lemon tree is laden with fruit which is very pleasing as last year it
had some sort of hissy fit and I didn't get a single lemon.


Some TLC in the form of sheep manure and citrus food has paid off and
now we are enjoying lots of lemony loveliness.

I
love lemons and use them with so many things. Roast chicken stuffed with
chopped lemons, garlic and basil is divine. Lemon with lamb also works
very well. Lemon rind and parsley will go on top of tonight's Osso Bucco
and who could go past a delicious lemon tart.
A bowl of lemons on the table gives a room a lovely sunny look and on a
rainy day can bring the sun inside.



Surrounded by so many lemons, I was inspired to get into the kitchen
which has resulted in two jars of preserved lemons (not very pretty to
look at but, in a few weeks, delicious to eat),

a luscious bowl of lemon curd



and, to stop me eating it by the spoonful every time I open the fridge,
a batch of lemon curd cup cakes.



Having said that there is still half the bowl left to tempt me and I
think I will give it away because I won't be able to resist it. That
burst of sweet and sour lemony flavour in the mouth is irrestible.
After all that activity there was only one thing left to do



and we did! Yum.