The only thing to do with proper cooking that I can think of to write about this week has migrated over to my other blog, Elsewoman. There you'll find a post on Central Otago and wild thyme.
Some other nice little discoveries these holidays:
Elderflower cordial - made with soda, it takes me straight back to a Salisbury pub beside a millpond. And it's wonderful splashed onto summer fruits before you cook them.
A dash of pomegranate syrup with the vinaigrette - they do this at the Marche Francais, it's delicious.
Heated up slices of leftover Christmas pudding with Puhoi butterscotch custard.
Slicing tender little leeks, cooking them in the microwave with a bit of lemon juice, piling them onto thin Vogel toast, and topping them with scrambled eggs made with some scraps of smoked salmon.
Ruth Pretty's fudge - I found the recipe in the DomPost but it's online here. I'm not posting it in full because I don't think I got it quite right. I did obey her and followed the instructions exactly, except that I didn't coat it with more chocolate - I thought that was gilding the lily.
But mine looked darker, and it didn't really set very firmly, though I could cut it into squares. However, it was beautifully rich and unctuous. When I gave a test piece to my chocoholic American visitor, she immediately told me it was horrible and she didn't think I should give it to anyone else for a present, as I'd planned, we should just keep it and eat it all up ourselves, so as not to waste it. Of course I ignored her and did give some away, with instructions to keep it in the fridge, and was rewarded later by being told it was the best fudge ever. Meanwhile I'd put the last dozen pieces (it makes a lot) into the freezer, wrapped in foil. This week I discovered I could take it out, leave it briefly to dechill, and eat it straight away, because it didn't actually freeze at all - it just got firmer. So that was another very satisfactory discovery.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
Simple apricot galette
I'm something of a heretic when it comes to apricots. Unless they come perfectly ripe to the hand from the tree, I think these gorgeous glowing globes taste better when they're cooked. Cooking seems to bring out that wonderful contrasting sharp/sweet flavour.
We managed to bring some apricots back from Central Otago, and I wanted to use them for dessert to serve a visitor from Britain. I remembered that the friend I consider to be the finest private cook I know uses a recipe that involves sprinkling ground almonds on a round of pastry, putting the cut fruit on top and folding in the overhang to make a rough tart or galette. So I went hunting online and came up with a recipe from Alice Waters. I could have made the pastry myself, using her recipe or one from Dean Brettschneider, but I didn't have time, so I bought sweet short pastry instead.
I also adapted the almond mixture that goes on the pastry first - Waters had more flour. The point of this mixture isn't just to add the almond flavour, which goes so well with apricots, it's to absorb the juice from the fruit so there's no soggy bottom. As the pictures show, this really is quite a "rough" tart - that's part of its charm.
Apricot galette (Adapted from Alice Waters, Chez Panisse Fruit, Harpercollins)
We managed to bring some apricots back from Central Otago, and I wanted to use them for dessert to serve a visitor from Britain. I remembered that the friend I consider to be the finest private cook I know uses a recipe that involves sprinkling ground almonds on a round of pastry, putting the cut fruit on top and folding in the overhang to make a rough tart or galette. So I went hunting online and came up with a recipe from Alice Waters. I could have made the pastry myself, using her recipe or one from Dean Brettschneider, but I didn't have time, so I bought sweet short pastry instead.
I also adapted the almond mixture that goes on the pastry first - Waters had more flour. The point of this mixture isn't just to add the almond flavour, which goes so well with apricots, it's to absorb the juice from the fruit so there's no soggy bottom. As the pictures show, this really is quite a "rough" tart - that's part of its charm.
Apricot galette (Adapted from Alice Waters, Chez Panisse Fruit, Harpercollins)
Serves 4
Enough home-made or bought short sweet pastry to make a circle roughly the size of a medium dinner plate
2 Tbsps ground almonds
1 tsp plain flour
1 Tbsp plus 1/4 cup plus 1 Tbsp white sugar
6 - 8 ripe apricots (depending on size - they should not be the very biggest ones, and small ones are fine. It doesn't matter if they're just a little soft, but they shouldn't be really hard.)
1/2 Tbsp unsalted butter, melted
Apricot jam (optional)
To serve: cream, icecream or yoghurt (optional)
Preheat oven to 200C. (If using a fan oven, set it to 190C, fan bake.)
Roll out the dough to a circle about 35cm across. It's a good idea to do this on a piece of baking paper large enough to fit the oven tray you are using. Put the pastry on the paper in the fridge and chill for at least 15 minutes.
Mix the ground almonds, flour, and 1 Tbsp of the sugar together.
Cut the apricots in half and remove the stones..
Remove the prerolled pastry on the paper from the fridge, and place carefully on the oven tray.
Very gently mark out a circle on it, leaving a border at least 5cm wide all round. (Don't cut into the pastry.)
Sprinkle the almond mixture evenly over the circle.
Arrange the fruit, skin-side-down, in concentric circles on the dough, making a single layer of snugly touching pieces, leaving the border bare. Sprinkle 1/4 cup of sugar evenly over the fruit.
While rotating the tart, fold the border of exposed pastry up and over the fruit to enclose it snugly round the edges. Make sure there are no breaks in the pastry so that no juice can leak out.
Brush the folded-over border with the melted butter, and sprinkle it with the last 1 Tbsp of sugar.Bake in the lower third of the oven for about 30 minutes, until the crust is well browned and its edges are crisp and slightly caramelized.
As soon as the galette is out of the oven, slide it on its paper onto a cooling rack, to keep it from getting soggy. Let cool for 15 minutes.
If you want to glaze the tart, brush the fruit lightly with a little warmed apricot jam. Serve warm, with a little whipped cream, vanilla ice cream or yoghurt if you like.
I didn't glaze mine (actually, I forgot) but I don't think it's necessary - the apricots look so beautiful on their own, with tiny brown bits around the edges. This is a slightly lurid photo - it was dark by the time I took it - but you get the idea. As you can see, I left it a little too long in the oven so it got a bit dark around the edges, but it really didn't matter - those crunchy bits tasted great.
Enough home-made or bought short sweet pastry to make a circle roughly the size of a medium dinner plate
2 Tbsps ground almonds
1 tsp plain flour
1 Tbsp plus 1/4 cup plus 1 Tbsp white sugar
6 - 8 ripe apricots (depending on size - they should not be the very biggest ones, and small ones are fine. It doesn't matter if they're just a little soft, but they shouldn't be really hard.)
1/2 Tbsp unsalted butter, melted
Apricot jam (optional)
To serve: cream, icecream or yoghurt (optional)
Preheat oven to 200C. (If using a fan oven, set it to 190C, fan bake.)
Roll out the dough to a circle about 35cm across. It's a good idea to do this on a piece of baking paper large enough to fit the oven tray you are using. Put the pastry on the paper in the fridge and chill for at least 15 minutes.
Mix the ground almonds, flour, and 1 Tbsp of the sugar together.
Cut the apricots in half and remove the stones..
Remove the prerolled pastry on the paper from the fridge, and place carefully on the oven tray.
Very gently mark out a circle on it, leaving a border at least 5cm wide all round. (Don't cut into the pastry.)
Sprinkle the almond mixture evenly over the circle.
Arrange the fruit, skin-side-down, in concentric circles on the dough, making a single layer of snugly touching pieces, leaving the border bare. Sprinkle 1/4 cup of sugar evenly over the fruit.
While rotating the tart, fold the border of exposed pastry up and over the fruit to enclose it snugly round the edges. Make sure there are no breaks in the pastry so that no juice can leak out.
Brush the folded-over border with the melted butter, and sprinkle it with the last 1 Tbsp of sugar.Bake in the lower third of the oven for about 30 minutes, until the crust is well browned and its edges are crisp and slightly caramelized.
As soon as the galette is out of the oven, slide it on its paper onto a cooling rack, to keep it from getting soggy. Let cool for 15 minutes.
If you want to glaze the tart, brush the fruit lightly with a little warmed apricot jam. Serve warm, with a little whipped cream, vanilla ice cream or yoghurt if you like.
I didn't glaze mine (actually, I forgot) but I don't think it's necessary - the apricots look so beautiful on their own, with tiny brown bits around the edges. This is a slightly lurid photo - it was dark by the time I took it - but you get the idea. As you can see, I left it a little too long in the oven so it got a bit dark around the edges, but it really didn't matter - those crunchy bits tasted great.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Sweetheart cherries
There's a recipe for cherry clafoutis here. But it would have been a crime to cook these ones.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
In praise of smoked eel
One of the most delicious things I ate over the last week or so was also one of the simplest. At Moore Wilson's I found pieces of smoked eel, and they were remarkably cheap - just under $14 a kilo. The piece I bought was about $5.
I think the low price probably reflects the amount of work you need to do to use this delicacy - carefully pulling out all the long bones (pliers are a help), then removing all the little backbones and the skin. But once you've done that, it's plain sailing. I found this recipe online, and chose it because I had the pink peppercorns, the dill and the horseradish, and I liked the idea of combining those ingredients with the eel.
Smoked eel pate
250g smoked eel, with skin and bones removed
1 tsp pink peppercorns, crushed
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1Tbsp finely chopped fresh dill
2 Tbsp commercial horseradish cream
75g unsalted butter, softened
2 Tbsp cream cheese
salt and freshly ground pepper
Flake the eel into the bowl of a food processor. Add the peppercorns, lemon juice, dill and horseradish cream, then process to form a rough textured paste. Then add the butter and cream cheese and process again to form smooth pate.
Check seasoning and add to taste if necessary (use white pepper if you want to avoid the tiny specks of black pepper, but I don't think this matters.) Shape neatly (it will set to become very firm) and chill in fridge till set.
To serve, take out about 15 minutes ahead of time. Make thin slices of dry toast, or use crackers. (I used Vogel's very thinly sliced bread - it's a bit hard to get, but it makes lovely toast to go with the pate.)
I served the eel pate alongside guacamole as a starter. I didn't realise it was going to set so firmly, or I would have probably made it into a neat shape for slicing, rather than putting it in a bowl. But it tasted the same and it looked very pretty. The horseradish gives it a subtle kick, and the pink peppercorns add a delicate fennel-like flavour.
I think the low price probably reflects the amount of work you need to do to use this delicacy - carefully pulling out all the long bones (pliers are a help), then removing all the little backbones and the skin. But once you've done that, it's plain sailing. I found this recipe online, and chose it because I had the pink peppercorns, the dill and the horseradish, and I liked the idea of combining those ingredients with the eel.
Smoked eel pate
250g smoked eel, with skin and bones removed
1 tsp pink peppercorns, crushed
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1Tbsp finely chopped fresh dill
2 Tbsp commercial horseradish cream
75g unsalted butter, softened
2 Tbsp cream cheese
salt and freshly ground pepper
Flake the eel into the bowl of a food processor. Add the peppercorns, lemon juice, dill and horseradish cream, then process to form a rough textured paste. Then add the butter and cream cheese and process again to form smooth pate.
Check seasoning and add to taste if necessary (use white pepper if you want to avoid the tiny specks of black pepper, but I don't think this matters.) Shape neatly (it will set to become very firm) and chill in fridge till set.
To serve, take out about 15 minutes ahead of time. Make thin slices of dry toast, or use crackers. (I used Vogel's very thinly sliced bread - it's a bit hard to get, but it makes lovely toast to go with the pate.)
I served the eel pate alongside guacamole as a starter. I didn't realise it was going to set so firmly, or I would have probably made it into a neat shape for slicing, rather than putting it in a bowl. But it tasted the same and it looked very pretty. The horseradish gives it a subtle kick, and the pink peppercorns add a delicate fennel-like flavour.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
The afterlife of a smoked chicken
I love smoked chicken, but I tend to buy it only when I want to feed other people. Last weekend our book group had its Christmas pot-luck lunch, and smoked chicken came into my mind. A big salad, I thought, with my garden lettuce, beans, asparagus, red pepper, mango and smoked chicken, with mayonnaise on the side. Lovely colours, lovely flavours. And lo! It appeared - and was quickly devoured.
But even though there were eight of us, and a smoked chicken looks quite small, I had enough chicken left over for my dinner that night and I still hadn't eaten it all. So the next day I pulled all the remaining flesh off the bones and cooked up the carcass with an onion, parsley and some juniper berries to make a delicious smoky flavoured stock. I left it in the fridge overnight, then transformed it into a spaghetti sauce for a quick dinner.
It was very good, but a little too liquid. I had deliberately cooked extra spaghetti, so I put the leftover portion into the sauce, still in its pot, and put the whole thing in the fridge.
Next night I got it out for a second dinner. The pasta seemed to have absorbed most of the sauce. I heated it up in the microwave and it was absolutely superb.
Smoked chicken and mushroom sauce for pasta
For the stock
1 smoked chicken carcass
1 onion
Parsley sprigs or one large stalk with leaves (preferably flat-leaved)
6 juniper berries
1 chicken stock cube
Bring 3 cups water to boil. Add chicken carcass, quartered onion, juniper berries and parsley. Boil gently for about 30 minutes. Watch it and if the liquid is getting low, add more boiling water. Check seasoning. Strain off stock and leave in fridge overnight. Skim off fat.
Spaghetti or fettucine
Required amount for 2-3 servings
For the sauce
(Enough for 2-3 servings)
20g butter
20g plain flour
50ml dry white wine
200-250ml stock
Juice of half a lemon
4 button mushrooms, thinly sliced
About 200g leftover smoked chicken, cut into small pieces if necessary
Melt butter in small heavy based pan. Off the heat, stir in flour rapidly to avoid lumps. Cook over gentle heat for 2 minutes, storing constantly. Off the heat, stir in half the stock. If you can be bothered, heat the wine to reduce it a little then add to sauce. (I must admit, I just put it in - the sky didn't fall and it tasted fine.) Return to gentle heat and stir until it thickens. Add the lemon juice, the thinly sliced mushrooms and a little more stock and cook, stirring, until the mushrooms soften a little and it reaches the thickness you want. (If you would like to try the overnight pasta method, it should be quite runny.)
Stir in the leftover chicken and heat it through. Check seasoning. You probably won't need more salt as the smoked chicken is quite salty, but you can grind in some black or white pepper if you like.
You can eat the sauce over the pasta immediately, or you can try keeping the sauce quite thin, putting the cooked pasta in it and keeping it till the next night, then reheating it. Magnifico.
But even though there were eight of us, and a smoked chicken looks quite small, I had enough chicken left over for my dinner that night and I still hadn't eaten it all. So the next day I pulled all the remaining flesh off the bones and cooked up the carcass with an onion, parsley and some juniper berries to make a delicious smoky flavoured stock. I left it in the fridge overnight, then transformed it into a spaghetti sauce for a quick dinner.
It was very good, but a little too liquid. I had deliberately cooked extra spaghetti, so I put the leftover portion into the sauce, still in its pot, and put the whole thing in the fridge.
Next night I got it out for a second dinner. The pasta seemed to have absorbed most of the sauce. I heated it up in the microwave and it was absolutely superb.
Smoked chicken and mushroom sauce for pasta
For the stock
1 smoked chicken carcass
1 onion
Parsley sprigs or one large stalk with leaves (preferably flat-leaved)
6 juniper berries
1 chicken stock cube
Bring 3 cups water to boil. Add chicken carcass, quartered onion, juniper berries and parsley. Boil gently for about 30 minutes. Watch it and if the liquid is getting low, add more boiling water. Check seasoning. Strain off stock and leave in fridge overnight. Skim off fat.
Spaghetti or fettucine
Required amount for 2-3 servings
(I find 75g is enough for one serving, but you may want more)
Cook in boiling salted water till al dente. Drain and keep warm in the hot pan while you make the sauce.
For the sauce
(Enough for 2-3 servings)
20g butter
20g plain flour
50ml dry white wine
200-250ml stock
Juice of half a lemon
4 button mushrooms, thinly sliced
About 200g leftover smoked chicken, cut into small pieces if necessary
Melt butter in small heavy based pan. Off the heat, stir in flour rapidly to avoid lumps. Cook over gentle heat for 2 minutes, storing constantly. Off the heat, stir in half the stock. If you can be bothered, heat the wine to reduce it a little then add to sauce. (I must admit, I just put it in - the sky didn't fall and it tasted fine.) Return to gentle heat and stir until it thickens. Add the lemon juice, the thinly sliced mushrooms and a little more stock and cook, stirring, until the mushrooms soften a little and it reaches the thickness you want. (If you would like to try the overnight pasta method, it should be quite runny.)
Stir in the leftover chicken and heat it through. Check seasoning. You probably won't need more salt as the smoked chicken is quite salty, but you can grind in some black or white pepper if you like.
You can eat the sauce over the pasta immediately, or you can try keeping the sauce quite thin, putting the cooked pasta in it and keeping it till the next night, then reheating it. Magnifico.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
La salade lyonnaise véritable
I had three salades lyonnaises in Lyon. They were all a little different. When I got back I looked for the recipe online, and found at least a dozen different versions, all claiming to be la salade lyonnaise veritable. I remember reading how Julia Child had great difficulty establishing which recipes were the correct ones for various French classic dishes. She doesn't include a recipe for salade lyonnaise. Elizabeth David does, but it's totally different from any of the versions I found, or ate, since it consists solely of a collection of little dishes of various bits of animals.
Some basic ingredients do emerge, and these match what I ate in Lyon. First, some kind of slightly bitter salad greens - in earlier times it used to be dandelion, known in French as pissenlit or "wet-the-bed", but today it's frisée (also called curly endive or chicory endive) and/or French endive itself (also called chicory). We bought glorious great discs of frisée when we were staying in the Loire Valley. I'd already taken leaves out of the centre of this one when I remembered to take its photo.
It can have shallots and garlic, too, though opinions vary. Next come bacon, croutons, and a poached egg (though some recipes prefer soft-boiled or even hard-boiled egg). Finally, a sharp mustardy dressing.
Here's an adapted translation of a French recipe which seemed to me to be the closest to the salade lyonnaise I enjoyed most in Lyon. The French use soup spoons as a measure rather than dessert spoons or tablespoons.
La salade lyonnaise véritable
(Serves four)
1 large bowl of washed salad leaves - frisée, endive, dandelion
4 very fresh eggs
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
2 shallots, finely chopped
1 soup spoon of olive oil for cooking
200g bacon (this should be lardons, thin square sticks of fatty smoked bacon, but these are very hard to get in New Zealand. The best substitute is a thick piece of smoky bacon cut into small dice.)
4 dry slices of good white bread (e.g. sourdough or a French country loaf) crusts removed, cut into dice for croutons
1 soup spoon of Dijon mustard
2 soup spoons of good quality red wine vinegar
5 soup spoons of extra virgin olive oil
black pepper
fresh bread to serve on the side
Gently heat the first measure of olive oil in a frying pan. Cook the garlic and shallots until soft. Remove from pan. Cook the bacon gently until crisp. Remove the bacon and add the bread. Toss and fry gently until golden brown on each side.
Make the dressing: whisk together the mustard and vinegar, then slowly add the second measure of oil, whisking steadily to make a creamy dressing. Add the pepper.
Some recipes recommend adding the vinegar and mustard to the pan with the garlic and shallots before adding the second measure of oil. Or you can add the garlic and shallots to the mixed dressing, or simply add them to the salad leaves.
Toss the dressing with the salad. (You may not need to use it all, so add it little by little until there is just enough to coat the leaves very lightly.) Scatter over the bacon and croutons. Divide the salad between four plates.
Quickly poach the eggs, making sure the yolks are still runny, and drain them carefully. Place one egg on top of each pile of salad. Serve with fresh bread.
I made this for an American friend using iceberg lettuce, as I knew she wouldn't like the bitter greens - and I don't think even Moore Wilson has frisée (though I'll check). I made do with ordinary bacon, and as I didn't have the right kind of fresh bread I added more croutons than usual, . As I'd made them with my friend Ali's home-made foccaccia, they were delicious.
Some basic ingredients do emerge, and these match what I ate in Lyon. First, some kind of slightly bitter salad greens - in earlier times it used to be dandelion, known in French as pissenlit or "wet-the-bed", but today it's frisée (also called curly endive or chicory endive) and/or French endive itself (also called chicory). We bought glorious great discs of frisée when we were staying in the Loire Valley. I'd already taken leaves out of the centre of this one when I remembered to take its photo.
It can have shallots and garlic, too, though opinions vary. Next come bacon, croutons, and a poached egg (though some recipes prefer soft-boiled or even hard-boiled egg). Finally, a sharp mustardy dressing.
Here's an adapted translation of a French recipe which seemed to me to be the closest to the salade lyonnaise I enjoyed most in Lyon. The French use soup spoons as a measure rather than dessert spoons or tablespoons.
La salade lyonnaise véritable
(Serves four)
1 large bowl of washed salad leaves - frisée, endive, dandelion
4 very fresh eggs
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
2 shallots, finely chopped
1 soup spoon of olive oil for cooking
200g bacon (this should be lardons, thin square sticks of fatty smoked bacon, but these are very hard to get in New Zealand. The best substitute is a thick piece of smoky bacon cut into small dice.)
4 dry slices of good white bread (e.g. sourdough or a French country loaf) crusts removed, cut into dice for croutons
1 soup spoon of Dijon mustard
2 soup spoons of good quality red wine vinegar
5 soup spoons of extra virgin olive oil
black pepper
fresh bread to serve on the side
Gently heat the first measure of olive oil in a frying pan. Cook the garlic and shallots until soft. Remove from pan. Cook the bacon gently until crisp. Remove the bacon and add the bread. Toss and fry gently until golden brown on each side.
Make the dressing: whisk together the mustard and vinegar, then slowly add the second measure of oil, whisking steadily to make a creamy dressing. Add the pepper.
Some recipes recommend adding the vinegar and mustard to the pan with the garlic and shallots before adding the second measure of oil. Or you can add the garlic and shallots to the mixed dressing, or simply add them to the salad leaves.
Toss the dressing with the salad. (You may not need to use it all, so add it little by little until there is just enough to coat the leaves very lightly.) Scatter over the bacon and croutons. Divide the salad between four plates.
Quickly poach the eggs, making sure the yolks are still runny, and drain them carefully. Place one egg on top of each pile of salad. Serve with fresh bread.
I made this for an American friend using iceberg lettuce, as I knew she wouldn't like the bitter greens - and I don't think even Moore Wilson has frisée (though I'll check). I made do with ordinary bacon, and as I didn't have the right kind of fresh bread I added more croutons than usual, . As I'd made them with my friend Ali's home-made foccaccia, they were delicious.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Time to make that Christmas pudding...
Amazingly it's Christmas pudding time again. It's galloped up on me very suddenly because I was away for so long. But it looks as if I'll have a goodly gathering of friends this year, for the first proper Christmas dinner here since Harvey died, and I want everything to be as it should. (I did make a pudding last year too, but that was to take to my sister's in Auckland.)
So today I hunted through the pantry for the ingredients and filled in the gaps with a quick trip to the brilliantly well stocked dairy over the road (I didn't need much, I like going there, and it was much quicker than walking or even driving to the supermarket). I made a daring decision to replace half the raisins with "craisins", dried cranberries, just for a change. Now it's all mixed and sitting in its bowl to stand overnight, ready for steaming tomorrow.
I know I have posted much on here lately - it's taken me a while to get back into the swing of cooking. But next week I'll write about one of the nicest dishes I ate in France, the celebrated salade Lyonnaise.
So today I hunted through the pantry for the ingredients and filled in the gaps with a quick trip to the brilliantly well stocked dairy over the road (I didn't need much, I like going there, and it was much quicker than walking or even driving to the supermarket). I made a daring decision to replace half the raisins with "craisins", dried cranberries, just for a change. Now it's all mixed and sitting in its bowl to stand overnight, ready for steaming tomorrow.
The pudding featured in the terrific review by Susette Goldsmith in the Listener on 26 October, so I have to quote it:
"Sandwiched between are tales from Auckland, Albania, London, New Caledonia, France and Wellington, as rich and complex as her Christmas pudding (one of 24 chapter-related recipes included)."You can also find the recipe on my blog here.
I know I have posted much on here lately - it's taken me a while to get back into the swing of cooking. But next week I'll write about one of the nicest dishes I ate in France, the celebrated salade Lyonnaise.
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