Category: Cake

flourless, we are flourless

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2011! What? How’d that happen already? Well, it’s here and the changing of another year has passed me by in a non-threatening blur of crosswords, novel-reading, and playing 500 with Mum and Dad at the beach. And being absent from the computer, which really wasn’t so bad at all. We’re back out to the beach tomorrow, using the very last of my leave, but Tim’s back to work tomorrow – he heroically came out to help us erect the tents and then cover them with tarps (couldn’t possibly buy a new tent or anything) which we managed to do without having a family meltdown, maybe some lasting buried tension but no meltdown. In the meantime I’m serving up a recipe that I made for Christmas night, which…seems like an extremely long time ago now. And a mighty fine Christmas it was too, I was lucky enough to get heaps of food-related things which I’m sure will all eventually appear here on the blog when I get back to Wellington.




So, apologies for the now outdated Christmas imagery in the background…should have thought more about this and posed the cake in front of a beachtowel or a picture of a dolphin or something to make it more generally summery.

Ever since I can remember we’ve spent Christmas evening with the family who grew up next door to my Mum’s family, and this year I was asked to bring along a pudding (suspect I would have taken it upon myself to bring one along whether it was asked for or not). The open brief of “bring pudding” is one of my favourites and for some reason, out of all the many many pudding recipes Nigella has (or anyone, but for me Christmas is Nigella’s time to shine more than usual) my heart set itself on her Christmas-Spiced Chocolate Cake. It’s a variation on her flourless chocolate cake, gussied up with the yuledtidish fragrance of cinnamon, cloves and orange.


It’s very easy to make and apart from all the eggs it’s pretty low-key, the quantities of chocolate, ground almonds and butter aren’t terrifying and all you need to do is some melting and mixing. You don’t even have to worry about it sinking – it’s practically supposed to. Altogether a non-stressful Christmas pudding option that wouldn’t be out of place any day of the year. As long as you don’t use the title. Not that I referred to it by its full title at any point. Can you imagine walking into a room and saying “here’s my…

Christmas-Spiced Chocolate Cake

From Nigella Christmas

150g dark chocolate, chopped (I used Whittakers Dark Ghana)
150g butter
6 eggs (at room temperature)
250g sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
100g almonds
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Zest of 1 clementine/satsuma/just use an orange
4 teaspoons instant coffee (preferably espresso)

Topping:

Juice from the above citrus fruit
15g butter
1 tablespoon sugar
Pinch ground cinnamon
50g flaked almonds (they tend to come in 70g packets, you can use the lot here no worries).

Set your oven to 180 C/450 F, and butter and line a 23cm springform tin. That said, all I had at Mum and Dad’s was a 21cm tin that I’d brought up myself and it was all good.)

Break the eggs into a good sized bowl. In another bowl, gently melt together the chocolate and butter. Mum and Dad have a microwave so that’s what I did, but you can also put it in a metal bowl and sit it over a pan of simmering water…just melt the two together, it’s not complicated.)

While the chocolate is cooling, add the sugar and vanilla to the eggs and whip together till thick and pale and at least doubled in texture. This is easier with an electric beater but not impossible with a whisk. Gently fold in the rest of the ingredients, including the magically delicious chocolate-butter mixture. A big silicon spatula is best for this, and for transferring the mixture into the tin. Bake for about 35-45 minutes, and allow to col completely.

For the topping, simmer all the ingredients together till thick and syrupy and then topple them over the chocolate cake, which may well have dipped significantly in the centre.


This cake is seriously fantastic, chocolatey in an upfront way but without making you feel like you’re eating a damp, cocoa-scented piece of soap, as some flourless chocolate cakes can taste. The spices give it a real Christmassiness, showing that the sort of flavours which might show up in a fruitcake are equally fantastic against the slight grit of the ground almonds and the richness from the chocolate. The sticky, orange-syruped almonds on top make it look beautiful too – I just bunged them on and they somehow looked amazing, like shining golden tiles, so if you even put in the slightest bit of effort you’re guaranteed some gorgeousness.



This overachiever of a cake is also gluten-free and keeps for ages.

Hopefully everyone had a decent Christmas/New Years – I don’t really go in for resolutions, preferring to take each day as it comes but also to be receptive to as much positivity, creativity and safe fun as possible. Hope all that comes your way too.

Title via: Something about the panicky nature of Blackout from the fantastic Broadway musical In The Heights makes me feel slightly bad about appropriating their “powerless, we are powerless” line…not so bad that I haven’t done it.

Music lately:

I actually haven’t been listening to a whole lot of music this summer. I brought my ipod up but ignored it, preferring the sound of sea moving slowly across sand and tui calling to each other. Once I’m back in the city on Sunday and this holiday seems unbelievably far away I’m sure I’ll have music coming out my ears (and then going back in my ears again, of course.)

Next time: As I said I got a whole lot of food-stuffs for Christmas and it’s anyone’s guess what I’ll get into first. While part of me never wants to leave the beach, I do miss Wellington and am looking forward to reconnecting with my kitchen…

what good is cake you have but never eat?

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I don’t know why, or how to explain this in a straightforward way, but if there’s a recipe for a cake with an ingredient that wouldn’t normally be in a cake, I’ll really, really want to make it. Which is why I got my cake on immediately after finding the Beetroot Cake recipe, the Kumara Cake recipe, and…digging into the 2007 archives before I committed to a lyrical pun for every title…Chocolate Chickpea Cake (No lie. Chickpeas.) If it has a vegetable or similar trying to disguise itself as a cake – bring it on.

And then I found a recipe for a cake with mayonnaise in it. In a way it sounded familiar, like I’d heard of this combination before. But till now an actual recipe has never appeared to me, in fact it wasn’t even something I was actively searching for. Then I was reading the new issue of Spasifik magazine, and there was an advertisement for Best Foods Mayonnaise with a recipe for Amazing Cake Pasifika, sent in by the staff of the Glenn Innes Library. And it all made sense. I had to try it. Especially with an awesome title like that, as someone slightly given to hyperbole, I like a cake that announces itself as Amazing before you even try it.
When you think on it, mayonnaise in a cake isn’t so spooky after all. It’s more or less just eggs (or egg yolks), oil and vinegar – all things that help give a cake its cakeyness. Just don’t use aioli by mistake…and maybe check how high stuff like mustard appears on the list of ingredients while you’re at it…
Amazing Cake Pasifika
With gratitude to the Glen Innes Library Staff (if there’s any GI locals reading this, feel free to give your library staff a high five for me) and Spasifik Magazine.
Original recipe here.

1 cup Best Foods mayonnaise (if you don’t have that, then use some other decent mayo)
1 cup brown sugar, packed in
1 cup orange juice
1 cup coconut (desiccated is all good, but I saw “fancy shred” at the supermarket and was drawn to it…if I ever became a DJ – don’t worry, I won’t – DJ Fancy Shred could definitely be my pseudonym)
1 1/2 cups self raising flour
1 tablespoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Set your oven to 180 C/350 F. In a good sized bowl, whisk together the mayo, brown sugar, and orange juice. I will tell you now…it tastes kinda good. Mix in the rest of the ingredients and pour – it’ll be a fairly liquid batter – into a lined, greased 22-ish cm caketin. Bake for 45 minutes or so. The recipe suggests a lemon cream cheese icing (yum) but I just sprinkled it with more coconut (which looked pretty but fell off as soon as I cut into the cake…so. Stupid fancy shred.)
I guess it was something in the mayo, but this cake is incredibly moist, soft and light. Not actually so great for cutting into as you can see from the photo below – the slices would droop a bit and fall apart if handled too aggressively, but despite this it’s exactly the sort of thing you want to have if family or friends drop in on you – a big crowd-pleaser of a cake. You can even use it as a conversation starter if things start to get awkward (“hey, guess what the secret ingredient in this cake is?) Between the orange, coconut and the spices it might sound kind of aggressively flavoured but it wasn’t – just fragrantly delicious with an amazing golden colour.
And can you even taste the mayonnaise? Nahhhh (well a tiny bit. But only if you concentrate. The cake’s delicious, so if you can’t deal with mayonnaise in it then all the more for me, but if it helps, just remember the separate ingredients: egg, oil, vinegar.)
Tim’s down in Christchurch this weekend to see the Wellington Phoenix (starting to suspect that it’s Phoenix here *hold hand high* Laura here *hold hand less high*) and luckily they won – I was following the scoring on Twitter while writing this and it seemed like there was some kind of red card situation and…actually I’m not the best person to explain this. I’ve had an awesome weekend on my own – the weather was incredible on Saturday, I ate a whole eggplant for dinner tonight (Tim hates them), I did a yoga class, had a Christine Ebersole youtube marathon, and last night caught up with ex-flatmate but not ex-friend, Ange.
On Friday night Tim and I went to the Wellingtonista Awards at the mighty Mighty Mighty bar and…I didn’t win! I really wanted to but in the end it’s all good. It was fun just to be nominated, especially because I had no idea it was coming, and we had a seriously good night all the same. The crowded nature of the place – I was perched on a beer crate because there were no chairs left – meant we ended up getting practically on first name basis (if we’d thought to ask their names) with the sassy ladies of Wellington On A Plate who were next to us – at first it was all “we’ll cheer for you if you cheer for us” but suddenly we were rejoicing in each others raffle ticket victories and consoling (“it’s great just to be nominated”) each other’s respective non-wins.
We also ran into the lovely Anna Dean from Tiger Translate and Kate from Lovelorn Unicorn and tried to be cute in the super fun Amazing Travelling Photobooth. Good times all round. On top of that we won a Grow From Here voucher and a night tour of the Zealandia sanctuary (kiwis!!) from the raffle, so we didn’t even go home empty handed. A massive massive thanks to everyone who voted – I realise there’s been a bit of “vote for me! Please! Oh sorry I didn’t even win” highs and lows this year but I really, really appreciate it.
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Title via: Ate The Cake I Had, from the 2006 musical Grey Gardens. I’m sure there’s probably some mayonnaise lyric out there but I’m on the most humungous Grey Gardens kick these days (see: Christine Ebersole below) so it’s all good.
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Music lately:
ChakaKhanletmerockyouletmerockyouChakaKhan. On Saturday morning Tim and I grabbed I Feel For You on vinyl from Slow Boat (with “Happy Christmas, Annie” written in ballpoint across the front, did you just write on your album sleeves back then or something?) and I love the title track so much. And also Chaka Khan’s hair.
Christine Ebersole‘s entire back catalogue – a brief but dazzling intro here on 100sand1000s.
Mariah Carey’s Oh Santa from Merry Christmas II You. It cracked me up how the sticker on the CD claimed it was her new Christmas classic, but to be fair: it’s awesome. It maintains its upward bounce and has some minor key action and it’s extremely catchy and happy without trying to be All I Want For Christmas Is You. Love it.
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Next time: a couple of interesting new vegetable dishes I’ve tried out lately…

and if you don’t want to be down with me, you don’t want to pick from my apple tree

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I made these Apple and Cinnamon muffins ages ago – they were the second thing I tried from Nigella Lawson’s book Kitchen after the Spaghetti with Marmite (which got slated in a column in the local paper – any Dominion Post readers out there, don’t disregard its deliciousness! I guess that was one opinion, and mine is merely another, but still.) I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to blog about them, but…here they are.
I do agree with Nigella’s emphatic and continued suspicion of the muffins you run into in many cafes and supermarkets. What they lack in tenderness and flavour, they make up for in height and overpricedness. It could be easy to dislike the concept of muffins altogether if your main experience of them is handing over $4.50 for a mountain of foam mattress sprinkled in chocolate chips, somehow dry and oily simulataneously. Maybe you like this, or your experience of shop muffins is better than mine. All good.
However home-made muffins, while less uniform in shape, are very easy to make and as long as you don’t over-mix them, pretty well guaranteed to be extremely delicious. I realise apple and cinnamon muffins might sound like the obvious-est of the obvious but this recipe of Nigella’s is incredibly good – dense and sweet with honey and yoghurt and textured with chunks of apple and almonds. And it probably costs less to make a whole dozen than it would to buy just one from the supermarket.
Nigella uses spelt flour in this recipe instead of regular flour, which makes them more acceptable for some people who eat wheat-free, but not necessarily those who are gluten-free – it’s a little complicated but go with what you know is best for you, I guess. I bought a bag of spelt flour a year ago and never ended up using it so it was nice to have the opportunity to try it out. These muffins are so full of flavour that I couldn’t say they were distinctively spelt-ish, they just came out looking and tasting like muffins should. You could definitely just use regular plain flour rather than rushing out to find spelt.
Apple and Cinnamon Muffins

From Nigella Lawson’s Kitchen

2 apples
250g spelt flour (or just plain flour)
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
125g brown sugar
125ml honey (1/2 a cup)
60ml (1/4 cup) natural yoghurt
125 ml oil (1/2 a cup – and I use Rice Bran oil)
2 eggs
75g natural almonds, roughly chopped.

Set your oven to 200 C and line your muffin tin with papers.

Chop the apples into small dice, leaving out the core of course, and put to one side. Whisk together the brown sugar, honey, yoghurt, oil and eggs in a bowl.

Tip in the apples, flour, baking powder, half the almonds, and one teaspoon of the cinnamon into this and gently fold it together with a spatula. Try not to overmix – I tend to lift and shift the batter rather than do a full on stirring motion, if that makes any sense at all.

Spoon evenly amongst the muffin tin, and sprinkle with the remaining cinnamon and almonds, plus a little more brown sugar if you like. Bake for 20 minutes. Let them stand 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool.
While the comfort-food element of cinnamon and apple obviously works, the almonds, growing smokily nutty under the oven’s heat, and honey, complementing the diced apple’s clean but layered sweetness, keep these muffins from being predictable. They take minutes to throw together but stay good for ages in a sealed container, if anything becoming even more delicious with time (although that could be a product of imagination and anticipation, waking up thinking “OHBOY a delicious muffin for a mid-morning snack.”)
In fact, one of the excellent things about muffins is that they’re really just cake, but you can eat them any time of day including breakfast, without getting strange looks – in the sort of way that a pavlova or ice cream might. Not that avoiding strange looks should be your main motivation in life, not at all! It’s just a nice thought…breakfast cake.
Tim and I went out to Petone yesterday and at the record shop partway down Jackson Street, I found the original Broadway cast recording of Company on vinyl. I didn’t even think it existed in New Zealand – considering the juggernaut that is Amazon.com only has about 6 copies, one for US$90…and now for relative pennies I’ve got Elaine Stritch barking “she’s tall enough to be your mother” as people originally heard her the first time round in 1970. I had to keep taking it out of the bag and looking at it on the bus back into the city in case I’d just done a really good job of imagining it. But it exists. It’s damn exciting.

Speaking of, I am seriously anticipational about Tiger Translate on the 26th of November, if you’re in Wellington around this time you should most definitely give it your time of day. Even though I feel like I don’t quite have a grip on what it is, there’s a whole lot of creativity that’ll go down and there will be some amazing locals performing. We’ve been lucky to witness many of them in action already over the last year or so, with their powers combined who knows what kind of fresh mayhem will occur. TrinityRoots’ stunner drummer Riki Gooch, Julien Dyne and Parks who we saw just last week onstage with Ladi6, Homebrew, whose lyric-memorising male fans still astound months after we saw them with David Dallas at Watusi, Adi Dick who despite being in a squillion different music projects we’ve never actually seen live, the mighty intriguing Orchestra of Spheres, the amazing Electric Wire Hustle who we saw back in February and have since been galloping round the globe, Tommy Ill, Alphabethead whose happy style we love, Scratch 22, Fried Chicken Sound System, The Jewel School plus particularly special guest DJ Zooloo from Mongolia. Tim and I are going to be there and if you get a move on the first 500 people to register online get free tickets – not sure if this has filled up but either way check out their website for more info.
While I’m talking to Wellington, can anyone tell me where to get decent garlic? It seems like even the expensive stuff from the supermarket, with the pretty purple-tinged papery casing is all chomped and denty, gets green shoots quickly, and burns the tongue like raw onion. I guess people selling garlic have no way of knowing what’s underneath the stuff you peel off, but I’m also guessing you can’t return a bulb once you’ve bought it. Sure, there’s the mulched up stuff in jars, but for those times you want whole cloves…?
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Title via: Erykah Badu and her song Appletree from the beautiful album Baduizm. Such an amazing woman – I wish she’d tour on down to New Zealand.
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Music lately:
I Learned The Hard Way, by Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, from the album of the same title. Now there’s an amazing woman who is coming to New Zealand, and luckily for us we were able to buy tickets. Can’t wait.
Obviously, have got Company doing many revolutions right now. Can’t get enough no.
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Next time: I am on a prawn high right now, watch out.

she likes her hair to be real orange

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I made Nigella Lawson’s Chocolate Orange Loaf Cake yesterday and I gotta say, I absolutely love it, for all that I was never massively sold on Jaffas as a kid. Not that we ate lollies all the time, or that I would have turned Jaffas down given the chance. But when the rare money I came across coincided with a trip into town I would tend towards a dollar mixture, or those sherbety fizzy lollies, or, eventually, showing my Spice Girls influnce, chupa chups. What I bought most of all though was Grape Hubba Bubba bubble gum, fifty cents a packet if I remember right. I loved that stuff. The combination of fleeting, fake-grape flavour (a million years removed from the wasp-guarded vine that grew – then withered away – on our wire fence) plus the bonus time-passing activity of blowing bubbles was pretty heady. Especially since casually snapping gum and consuming grape-flavoured things seemed very American, which was pleasing since I was so obsessed with Baby Sitters Club books. Erm, anyway Jaffas were never that high on my list. Although I’ve since realised that they’re probably not the best example of the two flavours anyway, I doubt that any actual oranges or decent chocolate suffered in their making…

Reading through Nigella Lawson’s new book Kitchen, which continues to make me want to cook everything from its pages, her Chocolate Orange Loaf called out to me (not literally…though give it time). Plain, dark-brown, oblong, it’s nothing fancy to look at, and in fact I was almost about to make her Blondies which has cool stuff like chocolate chunks and condensed milk in it. But then fate, or maybe something way less dramatic, like me just making a different decision, intervened. And I’m not even that fussed because I’ll probably make the blondies too before the weekend is out. Either way I’m glad I went the way of the chocolate-orange combination, forgoing my Jaffa-indifference, because the result was pretty stunning.

 

Chocolate Orange Loaf Cake

From Nigella Lawson’s Kitchen

  • 150g soft butter
  • 2 x 15ml tablespoons golden syrup
  • 175g dark brown or muscovado sugar
  • 150g flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 25g best-quality cocoa (I tend to buy Equagold, nothing else seems to taste as good
  • 2 eggs
  • zest of 2 oranges and the juice of one

Set your oven to 170 C/340 F and butter and line a loaf tin (or hunt down a silicon one). Beat the butter, golden syrup and sugar together. This is the hardest part, really – it tastes so good. Nigella asks you to alternate the dry ingredients with the eggs but I didn’t have the energy and I’d somehow already made a ridiculous mess so I just beat in the eggs – which makes the mixture much lighter and aerated – then folded in the dry ingredients with a metal spoon (more control than a fling-y spatula), followed by the orange zest and juice. Don’t fear if it looks a little curdled at any stage. Pour into the tin and bake for around 45 minutes.

I was worried that I’d overcooked mine – it looked a little ‘solid’ round the edges. I considered doing my usual cake-rescue method of making up a syrup to pour over, but after curiously slicing off a sliver, it turned out the loaf was just fine. Better than just fine, even.

The orange flavour isn’t overpowering, more fragrantly suggested than in-your-face, but what’s there is completely delicious. The citrus and the caramelly golden syrup seem to pick up something good in the dark, dark cocoa, giving the cake an almost gingerbread intensity of flavour even though it’s very light-textured. It’s seriously good with a cup of tea and I reckon it would be amazing spread with cream cheese but unfortunately I didn’t have any in the fridge to test this theory.

I’m not sure how long this would last for but it seems to be one of those Bernadette Peters-style cakes which just keeps getting better and better as the days go by.

Title via: The Flaming Lips’ sweet tune She Don’t Use Jelly from Transmissions From The Satellite Heart. Which cavalierly rhymes “store” with “orange”. Whatcha gonna do?

Music lately:

I’ve been on a bit of a Sondheim kick, although it’s more like a Rockettes kickline than a solitary burst of commitment…I’ve been listening to so many interpretations of his music on youtube lately that linking to just one is a bit misleading but feel free to enjoy the late Eartha Kitt’s I’m Still Here from Follies.

Yesterday we bought Aloe Blacc’s new album Good Things, and the title doesn’t lie. It is a bit gloomy towards women but if that’s the experiences he had prior to writing these songs, well I guess fair enough, and it’s nicely balanced by the lump-in-throat inducing Mama Hold My Hand. The bouncy, catchy I Need A Dollar would be his best-known track but I love his slow-paced, sultry cover of Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean, which isn’t actually even on the album. Go find Good Things, it’s very easy to like.

Next time: I have so much Nigella going on right now that I’m probably going to have to hold up before I end up reproducing her entire book here on this blog. I’ve also made and loved her Apple Cinnamon muffins and crustless pizza and so they’ll no doubt end up on here soon.

 

in cyberland we only drink diet coke

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When I tweeted on the Twitter recently that I was making Chocolate Coca Cola Cake, there was a massive flurry of like, two or three people tweeting back at me that they wanted the recipe. Never one to offend my constitchency, I obediently bring you…Chocolate Coca Cola Cake. Check out all those curvaceous C’s lined up like that. Nigella, you alliterative minx.

I’ve already told the story of how this was the first recipe I made from How To Be A Domestic Goddess in 2006, but the tl:dr version is that Tim bought it for me, even though we didn’t have any expensive-book-money kicking round, to cheer me up after some clothes I was pretty invested in got stolen off our washing line. What a nice fulla he is.
This recipe is fantastic – very reassuringly cake-like, nothing fancy here, but also like no other chocolate cake you’ve ever tasted. Yeah, the Coca-Cola might be a bit of an awkward-sounding ingredient, but it works I promise you. The flavour isn’t strident, but gives a slight lick of damp cinnamony fizziness. It’s easy as to make too – just melt and beat thoroughly till smooth. When I was a kid we never really had fizzy drink around (except on my birthdays when Mum made ice cream sodas) and I never buy it or drink it now but – there’s something SO good about the taste of a cold Coca-Cola. Which is exactly what Coca-Cola would like me to think, but there it is.
Chocolate Coca-Cola Cake

From Nigella Lawson’s amazing, amazing, How To Be A Domestic Goddess

200g plain flour
250g sugar (brown sugar is good)
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 large egg
125 mls buttermilk (or 125 mls half yoghurt half millk)
125g butter
2 T cocoa powder
175mls Coca-Cola

Preheat oven to 180 C/375 F and put in a baking sheet/biscuit tray to heat up. Butter and paper-line a 22-23cm springform tin.

In a large pan, gently heat the Coca-Cola, cocoa and butter together till the butter melts. In another bowl sift together the dry ingredients and pour in the buttery cola. Whisk in the yoghurt and egg, mixing everything really well. Pour into the tin and bake for 40 minutes or until cooked through.
Nigella has a recipe for icing that goes with it but it makes a way huge amount. What I did was mix together 1/3 cup Coca-cola, 2 tablespoons cocoa, and enough icing sugar to make a smooth, pourable icing. Even so this made way too much and it flowed over the plate and pooled all over the benchtop. It took so long to clean it up.
I made this cake to eat with the band Alex The Kid during Tim’s and my interview with them for our blog 100s and 1000s. It was a fun afternoon, and as soon as they left I grabbed my photo and took a couple of snaps. But I waited till they were done. You don’t want to hinder people’s ability to eat this stuff.
So good.
Check out, if you will, out the sweet coasters Tim and I made! Neither of us tend to go in for crafty cute stuff but something about this project we found in the latest issue – finding old coasters, cutting up pages of old books, glueing them together and spraying with fix-y stuff – appealed. To be honest Tim ended up doing most of it but I spotted the book about the galaxy, and the end result is pretty sassy, hey?
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Title via: The incomparable (I think my heart beats faster just thinking about her) Idina Menzel who originated the role of Maureen in RENT on Broadway in 1996 and reprised it nearly ten years later in the film version of RENT. The audience’s first sight of her is when she does her fairly astonishing ‘performance art’ piece, Over The Moon, which the title of this post quotes. I kindly but firmly direct you to consult both the original Broadway and film version.
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Music lately:

Voom, King Kong – apparently this song only came out in 2006 but you hear it and get this feeling like you swear you were listening to it when you were 12. (Depending on where ’12’ was for you). This song (like Ash’s Burn Baby Burn) is made of so many hooks that a more cautious band might have made a whole album from the material crammed into King Kong’s 3-ish minutes. It is fantastic stuff. We managed to see them on Saturday night at Mighty Mighty, so much fun although we missed half their set (including Beth, sniffle) because we were at another gig at Bodega, for Amnesty, where we saw the outstandingly awesome local band Nudge who, for a three-piece, churned out the kind of sound that you’d expect from twelve people.

Dead Prez, Hip Hop…love the beat, the chant-along chorus, and how they tip their hat to Trenchtown Rock. I was working at Big Day Out when they came to New Zealand this year but managed to catch the tail end of their set on my shaved ice break. Even from where I was at the back of the field with a tired brain, a mouthful of syrup, and minutes to go before they left the stage, they were pretty electrifying.

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Next time: 99% sure it will involve tofu.

it’s that orange blossom special

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I try to keep things relatively practical and user-friendly on here, but every now and then a recipe comes along which, even though I can’t really work out what I’d do with it, sounds so pretty that I just go ahead and make it anyway. Like them marshmallows. Really, if I want to cook something badly it’s pretty easy come up with some kind of justification, however dubious.

I found this recipe for Orange and Saffron Confit in the latest Dish magazine. I always thought confit was something submerged in fat for purposes of preservation and deliciousness, but this is basically slices of orange simmered in syrup. I guess it’s for the best, although you know I wouldn’t turn my back on orange slices in a jar of melted butter. It sounded like so much fun, and even though I didn’t really have any need for it in my life I really wanted to try it.

It’s pretty cheap to make, and even if you never, ever use them, the jar looks unbelievably pretty with its tangerine-bright layers of orange spooning in their glossy liquid.

Saffron is admittedly really expensive, and the reason I’m relaxed about using it is because I’ve received it as a Christmas or birthday present so many times (I looooove getting food as presents FYI) that I’ve got plenty I can use. If you don’t have saffron to hand I reckon this would be amazing with a vanilla pod or a couple of cinnamon sticks (for a very cheap option) as a replacement.

Orange and Saffron Confit

From Dish Magazine (the current one with the pumpkin on the cover)

  • 2 large seedless oranges (I used 3)
  • 3 1/2 cups water (just under a litre)
  • Pinch of saffron threads, or whatever substitution you’re using
  • 2 1/2 cups caster sugar (I used regular)

Trim the ends off the oranges. Cut into 1/2 cm thick slices and place in a wide saucepan with the water and saffron threads. Bring to just below boiling point, let it simmer away gently for about 20 minutes. Then sprinkle over your sugar and continue to cook gently for about 30 minutes, until the liquid has reduced a bit. Occasionally you could spoon some of the liquid over the oranges but don’t try stirring them or they’ll fall apart.

Let them cool in their syrup, then carefully transfer the slices to a clean jar or two and pour over the remaining syrup.

Warning: You and your benchtop will get covered in sugary syrup. There is no way of avoiding this. This is what I’ve learned in my travels around the kitchen, anyway.

It smells so good while it’s simmering away, and for very little effort you end up with soft, gleaming slices of intensely flavoured orange and a gorgeously golden syrup flecked with red saffron strands and fragrant with that grassy, saffron-y perfume.

In case you’re thinking “yeah nice, but now what?”, well apart from loudly admiring your handicraft whenever someone walks past, Dish suggests a few options for using this confit. These include decorating cakes, accompanying chocolate mousse, or serving over ice cream. For a while there I was thinking it would be fun to give someone you were only pretending to like a jar of this as a present, so you could imagine them fumbling round trying to (a) come up with a use for it and (b) act like they’re sophisticated and orange confit is something they understand and deal with on a daily basis. However there’s actually plenty of uses for this stuff. Today I decided to chop up a few slices to use in a fruit cake of Nigella Lawson’s – but this cake is amazing on its own so don’t feel that the first recipe here has to happen before you can do the following one.

And if you can’t be bothered making the orange slices to go with this, take comfort in the fact that even though they look pretty, they make slicing the loaf a total pain.

Fruit Tea Loaf

From Nigella Lawson’s very amazing Feast

  • 1 x 250ml cup black tea
  • 375g dried fruit (I used half dates, half sultanas)
  • 125g brown sugar
  • 250g plain flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • pinch ground cloves (I used cinnamon)
  • 1 egg
  • Optional: 3 slices of orange from the above confit recipe, roughly diced, plus extra slices for decorating.

Make the cup of black tea (I used English Breakfast) and pour it into a bowl with the dried fruit and sugar, stir well, then leave sitting overnight. I know, I’ve just told you that you can’t have this cake until tomorrow. If you’ve got a microwave, you can try blasting it in there for a little bit to speed up the absorption process, letting the fruit cool a little before doing the rest of the recipe.

Set your oven to 170 C, and line a loaf tin with baking paper. Beat the rest of the ingredients into the dried fruit (retaining the liquid) and then spoon the mixture into the loaf tin. Bake for around an hour or so. If you’ve got some orange confit kicking round, drape a few slices over the cake and spoon over a little syrup.

  

I can’t even emphasise with words (only by gesturing wildly with my hands) how easy and delicious this cake is. If you haven’t got much in the bank for baking fancy things, this is the cake for you – dried fruit like sultanas, dates and apricots are always cheap. There’s no butter in it and only one egg. But it comes out of the oven tasting like one of those special Christmas cakes which have had days of effort and paychecks going into them. It’s really moist and fruity and rich, and the orange slices lend a sunny zestiness. For all that people get up in arms about Nigella’s recipes which have lots of expensive ingredients in them, if you take the time to properly read her books there’s a complete goldmine of practical, cheap things to fill your stomach with. And come to think of it, this cake would make a genuinely lovely gift to someone, at any time of year.

I really hadn’t thought about what I’d do with the slices of orange as I start cutting into the loaf. Guess I’ll just have to try hacking them up as I go? Or maybe I could push them further and further back as I slice more off the loaf…but it looks pretty. Speaking of pretty, I am a bit in love with that plate of ours which (you can’t see because there’s a slice of cake on it) has a guy and a girl earnestly playing tennis. Picked it up for a dollar from an op shop in town. The joy I feel whenever I see it is dampened a bit by how old it makes me feel that I get worked up about really ugly plates.

Last night Tim and I went to an evening of Rogers and Hammerstein with the always-awesome NZ Symphony Orchestra and West End conductor Martin Yates, with songs performed by West End soloists Jacqui Scott and Andrew Halliday. It was a fantastic evening – Tim and I probably lowered the average age of punters by about forty years – but I will point out that the Michael Fowler centre is awful, with its semi-circular seating arrangement meaning that 40% of the audience can’t see a thing, and for the price they were making people pay, you’d think Kerry Ellis or even Elaine Paige herself were going to be there.

The NZSO were in good form, providing a lush, expansive amble through some of Rogers and Hammersteins best-loved musicals, and songs like Shall We Dance, Some Enchanted Evening, Oklahoma, Climb Every Mountain, and Soliloquy were performed through the evening. The two singers were fantastic – Halliday had a rich and smooth Gavin Creel-esque sound and Scott was blessed with a powerful soprano voice. Gotta say even as a hardcore musical theatre person the Oklahoma can sometimes be a bit much for me – all that talk of how “birds and frogs’ll sing altogether and the frogs’ll hop”. The darkness of Carousel is more my scene, and to their credit, without any costumes or scenery and only marginal context, the two singers were great at switching characters between songs. If anyone’s listening, an evening of Sondheim would be seriously awesome. I probably wouldn’t even complain about the price of seats.

Title via: Johnny Cash, who sung Orange Blossom Special at Folsom Prison and San Quentin prisons. There is some incredibly good footage on Youtube of him performing, if you’re ever sitting round wondering what to do with your time you could definitely do worse than entering his name into the search bar.

Music lately:

King Kapisi feat Mint Chicks, Superhuman – a seriously meaty collaboration between two of Aotearoa’s finest acts. I’ve been lucky enough to see both of them live (Mint Chicks at SFBH in 2006 and earlier this year, and King Kapisi at Pasifika Festival at Western Springs in 2000 or 2001, my memory fails me – anyone else remember?), hopefully there’s the opportunity for people to see them perform this song together at some stage.

Speaking of collaborations, still loving Nas and Damian ‘Jr Gong’ Marley’s diamond of an album, Distant Relatives. Truly. Find it.

Next time: I made Nigella’s Coca Cola chocolate cake today…will be blogging about it soon.

 

we’ll start with the seed of an idea

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Truth be told, I love my food blog best of all. But I’m always inspired by other bloggers out there. There are so many great writers, like-minded souls, and awesome recipes to be found. My favourite discoveries are recipes where the overall result doesn’t involve 12 layers of sponge or a tray of eggs or whatever, just something that’s recognisable, but with a sassy combination of flavours to make you think I must make this immediately and I’m so happy the internet exists so I could find this and not even have to pay for it, even. Like this Spiced Sesame Slice from the very cool Wayfaring Chocolate blog. It’s basically a cake. But then there’s sesame seeds in it. And on it. Plus ginger and cinnamon. I don’t know about you, but that sort of old-fashioned-plus-sexy-modern combination is pretty alluring. Then again, I get all hepped up over things that other people sneer at (like the music of Jesus Christ Superstar.) I may not be the best yardstick to measure “exciting stuff” by but trust me – this cake is damn good.



(If you’re wondering what the foliage in the background is, on the left is harakeke and on the right is our boutique saffron plantation. If you weren’t wondering at all, I just like calling two bulbs a boutique plantation.)



Spiced Sesame Slice 


Recipe from Wayfaring Chocolate…cheers Hannah!

50g sesame seeds
125g flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp allspice
2 eggs
140g brown sugar
125g butter, melted

Set your oven to 180 C/375 F and line a rectangular or square cake tin, don’t worry about the size – just one of those usual-sized caketin things, you know? Even if you’ve got nonstick or silicone it would pay to butter it because this stuff sticks quite a bit. Not sure why.

First of all, toast the sesame seeds till they’re good and brown and smelling popcorn-y in a pan. Set aside. Don’t taste them, you’ll burn your tongue. Like me.

Whisk the eggs and sugar till thick and creamy and increased in volume. Pour in the melted butter, and then fold in the dry ingredients and half the sesame seeds. Turn it into the cake tin and sprinkle over the rest of the sesame seeds. Bake for 20 mins until firm-but-springy to the touch. Let it cool for a bit before slicing up.



So delicious. It’s really light-textured, and the buttery nuttiness and the warm spiciness is seriously good. It was so easy to just keep slicing off bits…tidying up edges…eating the broken bit…ah, you know how it goes. We go through bottles of sesame oil – its rich, dark nutty flavour is amazing, and the seeds work really well in a sweeter setting. I didn’t have any allspice (does anyone ever have allspice?) so in a move that I hope Hannah of Wayfaring Chocolate would be proud of (she eats stuff like chilli-studded chocolate and kangaroo meat very casually) I used Ras-el-Hanout spice mix instead. But you could just leave it out, or even add more cinnamon and ginger.



And it’s really, really good with a cup of tea.
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Title via: Untitled Opening Song from [title of show], the musical about two guys writing a musical about two guys writing a musical. This show is pretty special to me, even though I obviously never got to see it on the Broadway, and I won’t go on about it (although you know I could easily go on about it) but I will say this: don’t anyone let a New Zealand production get made (and I seriously believe it could work) without me playing Susan. I just want to so bad, and I think that’s a good enough reason to make it happen.
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Music lately:

Apart from the sweet writing skills and chocolate-a-plenty and recipes, the other thing I like about Hannah’s blog is that it always makes me think of the song Poor Wayfaring Stranger. We used to sing it in choir at school, which is when I really started to dig its melancholy, old-timey, Americana sound. This version by Dusty Springfield is particularly choice.

Gypsy Eyes from Jimi Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland…we just love us some Hendrix. Gypsy Eyes is a very cool song…I like the way he pronounces all the vowels on ‘re-a-lize that I’ve been hypnotised’.

The whole entire Distant Relatives album, from the one-two punch of Nas and Damian ‘Junior Gong’ Marley… amazing. Purposeful beats, powerful messages, impassioned delivery, but you only have to listen to first track As We Enter for five seconds to know it’s special stuff. I like the titular togetherness of the lyrics as they go back and forth – “My man’ll speak patois, and I can speak rap star…”
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Next time: Butter is so expensive! Hey! Wha’happen? If anyone could make this all go away and get it down nearer to $2 a block I’d be most obliged. Till then, we’re probably looking at some dairy-free times up ahead.

go and part the seas in malibu

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Yikes last week went fast. I most definitely meant to blog sooner but one thing leads to another and all of a sudden it’s a dark Sunday afternoon and I’m pretty convinced it’s time to go to bed but it’s really only just past lunchtime. That’s how you maintain a blog, people! That said, if the week went as quickly for everyone else, then no harm done – we’re all on the same page.

Nothing like rifling through the sepia-d pages of the Edmond’s Cookbook of Mum’s that she gave me to make things feel a little more slow and relaxed. I’ve already made a bunch of crazy marshmallows from this book, but today I felt like something with more practical application to our lives. Not that marshmallows are an unreasonable possession. They have their reasons.


Am I trying to recreate a Frankie magazine photoshoot or what. Except theirs happen on beautiful fabrics and paper and stuff, and mine is on a cheap and grubby teatowel.

I’ve always been a fan of coconut but recently I’ve been really embracing the stuff – I love that it’s so intensely rich and delicious and creamy and fragrant but also very cheap. That said it feels like forever since I’ve had an actual coconut, drank the water from it and bit into the chewy, juicy white flesh (so long ago that I can remember doing it but not where or when or anything…maybe I just dreamed this bit.)

Apparently New Zealanders have loved coconut for generations, although in its most mainstream form it’s really the least appealing – I’m not talking fragrant curries or moist puddings eaten with mangoes or whatever here, I mean the dry, dessicated white flakes that cling to the edges of lamingtons or lolly cake (usually falling off and getting all over everything inbetween being on the plate and getting in your mouth). Nevertheless, as an ingredient dessicated coconut is definitely practical and still gives that definite, beachy flavour, and was recognised as such by several interesting recipes in this pretty old (sorry Mum) Edmonds Cookbook.

Coconut Kisses

These biscuity biscuits are supposed to be stuck together with butter icing…While I’m seriously the last person that would act as a gatekeeper between butter icing and the rest of the world, I liked the idea of having twice as many biscuits around if I left them alone.

110g butter

2 tablespoons hot water
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup flour
3/4 cup coconut
1 heaped teaspoon baking powder (you could do as the good book tells you to and use Edmonds)
Note: I added 1/2 a teaspoon Boyajian orange oil, partly for flavour and partly because it was really expensive and I like to pretend like it’s a useful ingredient to have around, I mean it is and all, but, you know.
Melt butter and hot water together (I sat the bowl on top of a small pot of simmering water), mix in the rest of the ingredients. Roll into balls, put on a baking tray and flatten a little (I forgot!) Bake 15 minutes at 180 C/375 F. You can, of course, stick pairs together with butter icing.

Notice the lovely cake stand, given to me for my birthday by my godmother and family!

They don’t look overly exciting but these coconut kisses are in fact mighty delicious – crisp on the outside but meltingly shortbready within. They’d be perfect dunked in a cup of tea as long as you didn’t drop them – they’re pretty small – and they have echoes of several coconut-flavoured biscuits out there on the market except of course they’re way nicer, and much cheaper to make than buy. You could also try using oil instead of the melted butter – I’m sure it would work, and if so: vegan!

Because one kind of coconut flavoured baked good is just not enough, I also gave the Coconut Cakes a crack. They’re really just small, coconut-enhanced scones, and in fact after eating one, what I really wanted to do was spread them with raspberry jam and sandwich them together with whipped cream.

Coconut Cakes


110g flour
45g butter
30g sugar
60g coconut
1 heaped teaspoon baking powder
1 teacup milk (I used just under 3/4 cup)

Sift flour, rub in butter, stir in the rest of the dry ingredients. Mix to a stiffish dough with the milk. Edmonds says “place in rocky shapes” on your baking tray, I just dropped rough dessertspoons-ful onto the tray and hoped for the best. Bake 15 minutes at 180 C/375 F.

These are so good – really quick to mix up and incredibly tender and light, not a biscuit and not a cake. The coconut makes them flavourous and textural (yeah they’re words!) and they smell amazing while they’re baking. I think you could definitely get away with buttering these before eating (not that I’m the best yardstick to measure healthy buttering behaviour against) or serve with cream and jam as I mentioned earlier, but they’re great just as they are – soft and delicious.

The New Zealand International Film Festival has rolled into town again, replete with cinematic plenty. On Friday night we saw The Illusionist at the prompting of our former-flatmate-current-friend Ange – it was directed by Sylvain Chomet, who also did Triplets of Belleville. It was beautiful, so beautiful but utterly sad and desolate as well. I definitely recommend it all the same, and don’t feel that subtitled films aren’t for you because in fact there is almost no dialogue whatsoever in this film. Just beauty! I also recommend that afterwards you go somewhere warm and drink French red wine and eat homemade chocolate macaroons, it definitely worked out well for us.
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Title via: okay, all this coconut talk made me think of a certain coconut liqueur, and like all good songs named after an object or a person or something, the very thought of it had me humming Hole’s wonderful 1998 song Malibu and now here we are. Of course, I’ve already outlined my enjoyment of Courtney Love previously here…
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Music lately:
I Heart Nigella by Wellington band Mammal Airlines. Tim and myself interviewed them recently for our website 100s and 1000s (please excuse the insultingly bad quality of the video, we’re getting there, we are…) and the three of them were awesomely nice and fun to talk to. But perhaps most awesomely nice of all is the fact that they have a song called I Heart Nigella, and what’s more, it’s really good. They’ve made both their EPs available for free download, so take advantage of that generosity, hey?
This Song Has No Title from Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. I know Elton John has an electric boot planted firmly in the middle of the road these days but I have no fear in saying I love this album. The reason it’s on my mind though is because Tim put it on the stereo and managed to trick me into thinking we were listening to War of the Worlds, which I really hate. I was getting pretty aggravated until album opener Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding dropped speed and changed tempo and all of a sudden I realised we were actually listening to Elton John. Now we sound like incredibly unexciting people, but it’s a true story and you heard it here first.
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Next time: I made ceviche for the first time and it was so good! Not so good was my pronunciation. Even though Nigella was all “it’s Mexican!” I’ve been pronouncing it all French-like, “se-veesh”…

don’t dream it’s pavlova

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The New Zealand ‘identity’ has many characteristics to capitalise upon for advertising campaigns – how minimalistic we are as a people, how we generally don’t go into excessive details or facial expressions or go in for fancy things. I found myself thinking about this when I was given the opportunity to submit this blog post as part of a promotion for mega-cook and food hero Rick Stein’s impending visit to Aotearoa. The “ultimate New Zealand dish” was my brief, which is not something I feel authoritative enough to pinpoint down. But a pavlova immediately leapt to mind, and infuriatingly, so did all those ads.

On the one hand, it’s kind of amusing that we have this famous pudding which has appeared in recipe books and graced tables for years and years, but which is seriously a bit of a mission to make. Oh, us kiwis, being all casual about this complicated dessert! On the other hand I was annoyed with myself for buying into it all by having an advertising-fuelled self-deprecating chuckle. On the other hand, it made me wonder whether we are even all that relaxed and simple or whether it’s something advertising has constructed. On the other hand, marketing is hard, trying to get information to people in the spaces between the information they’re actually trying to absorb is a mission and a half, and I can’t help but salute any that winkle their way into everyday vernacular.

On the other hand, pavlova. Let’s not overthink it, eh?

Pavlova – made from egg whites, sugar, and a lot of air – isn’t overly straightforward, but if you’re careful and patient, it’s really no big deal. But importantly, it always looks like a big deal. Pavlova is one of those dishes over which arguments are dribbled back and forth between New Zealand and Australia about who thought it up originally. Fortunately the pavlova is unlikely to engage in the kind of reputation-smearing scandalous activity that prompts a flurry of “Australia can have him” responses from the public. While I’d like to think it’s ours, because I love ballet so much and it was named after the great ballerina Anna Pavlova, whose ethereal white tutu it supposedly represented, I’m not overly fussed. If Australia really does have claim to the first pav, so be it – I’m more charmed with the idea of dishes being created in honour of people at all. Maybe one day there will be a “Heavily Buttered Toast with Marmite and Melted Cheese, Microwaved a la Laura” in the same way that you get Peach Melba and stuff like that.

With all this in mind, I’ve adapted a Nigella Lawson recipe for my take on pavlova. Yes, Nigella Lawson the British non-New Zealander. If you want a plain pavlova recipe I’m sure you couldn’t do better than anything in the Edmonds cookbook or any other reliable local cookbook. My take on Nigella’s version of our usual, marshmallow-white creation is a darker, and (dare I say it in the same breath as the wholesome Edmonds cookbook) altogether sexier pavlova. Aren’t we always asking people, wide-eyed and hopeful, about what they think about New Zealand? Isn’t it a compliment to us that the mighty Nigella has so many pavlova recipes? Yes, our usual pavlova is covered in a thick layer of whipped cream and maybe a few slices of kiwifruit or spoonfuls of passionfruit seeds. These are both incredibly good options and my version – Chocolate, Tamarillo, and Pistachio Pavlova with Coconut Cream – is just another option, rather than any kind of attempt to kick the original white pav.

Chocolate, Tamarillo and Pistachio Pavlova with Coconut Cream

Based on the Chocolate Raspberry Pavlova (also excellent!) from Nigella Lawson’s Forever Summer.
6 egg whites
300g caster sugar
50g good cocoa (I use Fair Trade or Equagold)
1 tsp balsamic or red wine vinegar

6 tamarillos
2 tablespoons brown sugar
150g dark chocolate (I used Whittakers – made in Wellington!)
100g shelled pistachios
1 can coconut cream

Set oven to 180 C. Whip up the egg whites till satiny peaks form, then continue to beat them while adding the sugar a tiny bit at a time. Maybe get a buddy to help with this bit. Once the sugar is all added the mixture should be thick, shiny and stiff. Sift in the cocoa and sprinkle over the vinegar, folding in carefully. Spread mixture into a 23cm circle on a baking paper lined tray. Immediately turn down oven to 150 C and leave for about an hour. Once done, turn oven off and leave pav to cool completely.

While the pav is baking, scoop out the seeds and flesh of the tamarillo, tip into a small bowl and sprinkle over the brown sugar, allowing it to dissolve. Swipe a sharp knife through the flesh if the seeds aren’t loose enough – you want a loose, chunky mixture as opposed to large, separate pieces. I hope that makes sense. Melt the dark chocolate and drizzle spoonfuls generously, Jackson Pollock-styles across the pav. You don’t have to use the whole lot, but don’t let me hold you back. Spoon the tamarillo seeds, flesh and juice evenly over the top and finally sprinkle thickly with pistachios. Serve in wedges with a spoonful of coconut cream on the side.

Serves 6 or so.
Something I should probably point out is that I completely forgot to turn on the oven before making this, so the beaten egg whites sat around for a considerable amount of time before getting any kind of blast of heat. This, plus the fact that I made this using a whisk instead of any kind of electric equipment, may explain the overwhelming flatness of the finished product. Still, 6 egg whites were not going to be used in vain, and with a certain pioneering spirit (and very sore upper arms from whisking the egg whites) I carried on. I’d sent a txt to our good friend and ex-flatmate Ange, saying that for reasons too complex to explain in 160 characters I had to make a pav and would she like to help us eat it? Luckily she did, or I might have eaten the whole enormous flat mess while curled up on the floor – what pavlova? I never made a pavlova!

I really did this whole thing on the fly – running round Moore Wilson’s and looking at what was in season without a clear picture of what I wanted the end result to be apart from “damn amazing”. For a few dire moments it looked like the pavlova would have to be topped with mashed swede or something until Tim pointed out the tamarillos, dark red and rounded fruit encasing sharp, juicy flesh and seeds. My mind began to move remarkably fast, and I mentally paired the fruit with dark Whittakers chocolate and maybe some kind of nut for interest’s sake. Pistachios, green and gorgeous, presented themselves once I got to the baking goods shelf and all of a sudden it started to make sense.

This pavlova replaces the dairy of our robust industry for a large spoonful of coconut cream. It’s a nod to our place in the Pacific and also makes it accessible to those who can’t actually eat dairy. Between the hastily assembled concept, forgetting to turn the oven on, the fact that the kitchen and myself were starting to be covered in chocolate, and the visitors turning up to eat it, I was starting to get a bit nervous about how it would actually taste after all that.

Friends – fellow New Zealanders – it was flipping excellent. What the pavlova lacked in, shall we say, body, it made up for in fudgy cocoa-y depth, with that familiarly crisp surface which dissolved alluringly on the tongue. The tamarillos were juicily sharp and fragrant, contrasting with the dark, rich cocoa taste of the melted Whittakers chocolate, the soft, buttery pistachios, and the mellow coconut cream seeping into each slice. We ate slice after slice (once I’d taken an excessively long time photographing it, of course) and then my flatmate and his friends came home and they had some too. Then Ange’s boyfriend came over and ate some. It was a big pavlova but its lifespan was barely hours.

Is this New Zealand’s ultimate dish? Oh, who could say. Put it next to a roast lamb or a fresh crayfish and it might seem far too fussy and “not us” and downright excessive. It is, however, an example of what you can do with one of our best dishes. It’s a new take on a gorgeous original. Yes, we may be told repeatedly that we are short on emotion and expression but don’t let this hold you back from enjoying something magically delicious, Aotearoa.

For more info on Rick Stein’s New Zealand tour, give this site a look.

Two very cool things happened this week. One: I met Ray McVinnie. RAY MCVINNIE! Some know him as a judge on NZ Masterchef but I’ve been reading his Quick Smart column in Cuisine magazine hard for years and years now. Yes, he’s more of a niche celebrity than a complete household name but he’s easily my favourite NZ foodwriter and every single one of his columns is a diamond. If you don’t know who he is, try to think of your favourite local celebrity who seems accessible enough in status but also roughly the awesomest in their chosen field, and imagine you got to meet them. McVinnie was at the recent Visa Wellington on a Plate launch that I was lucky enough to attend and along with two other Wellington food bloggers at the event, I just kind of prodded him on the shoulder, and said “hello, I’m Laura, I’m a food blogger, I’m a really big fan of your writing.” We all introduced ourselves and even got a brief conversation out of him – “Keep writing about food,” he said (oh how I will!) and also he said something about food being the glue that holds society together, I can’t remember specifically what it was but I remember agreeing with it. No lie, I grinned all the way home (sorry to any passers-by), got in the door and did a high-kick of happiness. By the way, the Visa Wellington on a Plate sounds well exciting, all those set lunch menus at all the fancy restaurants is making me happy just thinking about it. For more info check out their website!

Then on Saturday, I had a seriously cool lunch at Duke Carvell’s with a whole bunch of Wellington-based food bloggers, including the aforementioned ladies of Gusty Gourmet who I met Ray McVinnie with. (Ray McVinnie! Okay I’ll stop talking about it now.) Everyone was super lovely, and just plain super, really, and it was fun learning about peoples’ stories and what made them start writing, and who the person is behind the blog name. It was a good feeling, being amongst other people who love food and love writing about it, and who all live in Wellington. Blogger solidarity!
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Title via: Crowded House…maybe I should feel slightly apologetic about this one, oh sure it’s a sharp-inward-drawing-of-breath-through-clenched-teeth-edly bad pun, but the way those opening chords teeter as if being plucked on the strings of a fully functioning heart instead of a guitar…I’m really not sorry at all.
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Music lately:

New Edition’s Something About You, from their 1996 reunion album Home Again. Those moves! It has been years and years since I’ve heard this song but I saw a tweet on Twitter mentioning 90s music and instantly thought of this. I used to love it and I don’t know if it’s just because I’m not really keeping an ear to the R’n’B ground these days but it feels like they don’t make ’em like this anymore. (Poetically, fishpond.co.nz offers this album on cassette, before informing you that it’s “currently unavailable”…no kidding.)

Meadowlark, a song from the musical The Baker’s Wife, sung by Liz Callaway. I’m a bit obsessed with Liz Callaway at the moment, I’ve enjoyed her singing for a while but recently it’s hit me just how intensely amazing she is. In a joyful coincidence, one of the songs she’s most famous for is something I’m also obsessed with right now. I’ll be trying to articulate this better on 100s and 1000s soon…
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Next time: It has been real pie-making weather out there lately…I have pie on the brain. When it’s this cold all I really want to do is read Nigella’s How To Be A Domestic Goddess, and then cook everything from it.

ba-na-na (nanana!)

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I just ate a giant dinner largely composed of…roast potatoes. I feel so sleepy as a result that I can’t even describe how sleepy I feel, only repeat ineffectually that I feel so sleepy. Apologies if the following bloggery isn’t all that flash.

As I write there’s only a handful of hours left till the All Whites will play Paraguay at the FIFA world cup, oh my. The game’s at 2am and I’m hoping those potatoes will let me get some decent sleep beforehand. There’s this swirling uprising of coverage in the media in New Zealand at the moment and I just hope that, in the likely situation of us losing, there’s no “Black Friday” type headlines tomorrow. Because seriously. Let’s keep sight of things. It’s exciting that we’re there at all, we managed to stop the reigning champions from winning, and we’ve never, ever got this far before in football. I don’t even really like sports AT ALL and this is really exciting.

Speaking of really exciting…cake!




My aunty Lynn gave me Alyson Gofton’s book Flavours as a birthday present a few years back. I’m not sure where I stand on Alyson Gofton but this book would swing anyone in her favour – it’s packed full of innovative but not terrifying recipes, most of which sound incredibly delicious and are a good call to action to rifle through your spice rack and get to grips with how a particular flavouring agent can perk up a meal. The last time I made this recipe for Palm Sugar and Lime Banana Loaf was in 2004 (specifically, for Mum’s high school reunion lunch, if I remember right…?) and I can’t understand why it has taken me so long to return to it, since it’s really, really good. If you think banana cakes are the most obvious thing in the history of obvious things that are cakes, well, think again.

You know how sometimes you make those “cleaning out the fridge” kind of dinners that can never really be replicated because they use up all the bits and half-eaten pieces sitting round on your shelves hoping to be asked to dance? This cake, strangely enough, ended up being a similar exercise. Browning, speckled bananas in the fruit bowl, palm sugar I overenthusiastically bought by the bucketload, that large boxful of limes.

Palm Sugar and Lime Banana Loaf

Bear in mind there is no harder substance on earth than palm sugar. I’m pretty sure palm sugar could penetrate diamonds. The only way I can deal with it is by using a serrated Victorinox knife and scraping/shaving away at it till it’s a pile of gritty golden rubble.

150g soft butter
1/2 cup crushed palm sugar (roughly one circular lump)
1/4 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 cup mashed, ripe banana
Grated rind of 2 limes
2 and 1/4 cups self-raising flour
2 tablespoons milk
2 tablespoons lime juice

Set oven to 180 C and line a loaf tin with baking paper. Beat together the butter and sugars till light and creamy, add the eggs and lime rind. Fold in the bananas, flour, and liquids. It will be a very stiff dough, almost scone-like. Turn it into the loaf tin, and bake for 45 mins to an hour. When cool, drizzle over an icing made from about 1 cup icing sugar and the juice of a lime or two.


Don’t be fooled by the nothing-muchness of the icing – it really pulls the loaf cake together, mobilising all the flavours with its sticky tanginess. This is a moist, dense and easily sliced loaf, and while the palm sugar doesn’t exactly get all up in your face, its delicate fudge-like flavour along with the added lime make this a gently out of the ordinary delicious thing to bake. I photographed it this morning before work (grabbing one of the ‘artistic’ slices for a sneaky breakfast treat) and when I got home there was only a slender-ish chunk of loaf left sheepishly on the bench, as if it was trying to look bigger than it really was. I took it as a compliment.

Incidentally, it’s kind of fun reading over Flavours which is only all of seven years old, and seeing hints that basil pesto can be bought at the supermarket and avocado oil now being “available in two scented varieties.” Hee. How far we’ve come…well as far as pesto is concerned, anyway.

I guess I find out next week some time how the whole CLEO/Wonder Women thing went down. Voting closes tomorrow, Friday 25 June (which is, I guess, Thursday 24 June for all you international readers above the equator). I sort of feel like I’ve wrung dry everything I can from this, but if by chance you haven’t voted for me yet and would like to, firstly read why here and then email cleo@acpmagazines.co.nz with WONDER WOMEN in the subject line and “Voting for blogger: Laura Vincent” in the body of the email. Whatever happens, a mega-enormous thank you to everyone that did vote for me – and you can most definitely call on me to vote for you for anything in return.

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Title via: Look, it’s a skit/interlude from M.I.A’s mad awesome album Arular, and I’m really usually not into skits clogging things up but this is so weirdly catchy that I’ll find “ba…na…naaaa” popping into my head when I least expect it.
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Music lately:

Karen Elson’s The Ghost Who Walks, from the album of the same name. I love this album! It seems to hark back vaguely to ‘another time’ and is rich and full of melodies and warm, pretty Gillian Welch-ish harmonies. (Mum and Dad – I bet you’d love this one.) How lucky is Karen Elson – incredibly beautiful, married to Jack White, and luckiest of all, she can sing.

Big Boi’s new single Shutterbug, I just can’t get enough of it right now. It’s silkier than a silkworm, and the melody behind it reminds me of Grandmaster Flash’s The Message, but in a good way. I’ve always enjoyed Outkast’s take on hip hop and it’s cool that they’re just as capable of working as separate entities as they are together. This song is a diamond, and the man knows how to use the line “cut a rug” properly.

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Next time: By the time “next time” shuffles along, we’ll know what the outcome of the All Whites’ game was, we’ll probably know whether or not I caused my own out-of-nowhere result with the Cleo/Palmolive Wonder Women thing, and…I will have a giant pavlova to share with you (well, words about a giant pavlova, but these words will allow you to make one for yourself and then share it with absolutely no-one at all, if you like).