Oh I wish it could be Easter, every day. Friday AND Monday off feels like untold luxury now that I’m dipping my toe into what they call “the real world.” For those of you who have been somewhat alarmed by the increasingly saggy faces of various rockstars gracing this blog over the last couple of days, I offer hot cross buns to soothe you:
Category: Fruit
Camera Obscura
A warning: Tim and I have a new camera. It is very shiny and cool and high tech, but I just can’t take any decent photos. Please stick with me though. Hopefully these are just teething problems, and not a chilling vision of things to come for this blog.
Above: Morrocan Vegetable Stew. Guess what we served it on? Couscous! I have to say, if there is one thing Nigella has taught me, it is how to make a good vegetable stew. I am forever in her debt. Onion, garlic, carrot, parsnips, canned tomatoes, red lentils…a pinch of cinnamon and tumeric…beyond easy. This was dinner for Tim, Paul and myself on Wednesday (I took pity on Paul who couldn’t be bothered cooking dinner.)
My Funny Valentine
Ah, Valentine’s Day. The day where I say to Tim: “It’s just a commercialised, Americanised cold-hearted event thought up by Hallmark in order to sell more cards” while inside I’m thinking “pleeease do something for me!!” I honestly don’t want much. I meant what I said about it being commercial and tacky. Well Tim, bless him, completely exceeded expectations and not only got me a card but also got me (even though I told him not to) a beautiful bunch of flowers – delivered at work! So, for one of the few times in my life, I got to be that smug gal who walks home clutching a bouquet.
Above: Admit it. If you took this photo yourself, you’d be quite proud. I don’t think I’m too forward in thinking it would not look out of place on a much more chi chi food blog. Especially when you take into account the fact that I don’t take particularly good photos in the first place. I like this so much that I’d better actually tell you what it is – Pomegranate Ice Cream. Monumentally easier to make than the name would suggest, you merely stir icing sugar in the juice of a couple of ruby-red pomegranates, add some cream, stir some more, and freeze. It tastes heavenly. Almost unfathomably good. And it comes out a very pretty, Valentine-y pink colour.
Lentils, Rhubarb, Burghal Wheat and Humidity (Wait! Don’t Run Off!)
Okay so the title isn’t really selling it much but I’m too brain-weary to come up with a kicky pun.
Sorry to be a complete bore and talk about the weather and the rising price of dairy again, but good grief! Tim had to get up at 5am this morning to go to work at Coffee Bucks, and the sky was be-flashed with lightening and rain was bucketing down. By the time I went to work at noon, it was intensely humid. I mean, I was sweating like a mule carrying a barrel of tequila. So I figured it was safe to wear a dress. After work (where I embarrassingly stuffed up every single invoice I was supposed to enter – there’s a Neil Young song that described my mood perfectly but as I like to keep things clean I won’t tell you which one it is) there were gale force winds abound and everyone was looking at me disapprovingly for wearing so little clothing. I know, “four seasons in one day,” etc, but really! What’s a girl to wear? Get it together, Wellington!
We watched the report on Campbell Live tonight (bless his enthusiastic socks) and it is just unnacceptable (okay, I feel the pain more keenly than some about the lack of butter, but whatevs) that butter can be sold for upwards of $5. You practically need to take out an overdraft to make a bowl of macaroni cheese. A family was interviewed and they are driven to using margarine instead of butter because it’s too expensive. Margarine? What is happening to my country!?
Rant over.
Crowded House
If there was a better way of typing out a sigh, onomatapoeically, rather than saying the word “sigh,” I would use it right now. We learned of actor Heath Ledger’s death today, I’m sure if you are reading it here it won’t be the first time you have heard about it, indeed, this isn’t the sort of blog one would go to for that sort of news. But I can’t let the event pass without giving some kind of recognition to it. For all that people seem to be more shocked at “celebrity” death depending on how good looking the person was and the circumstances surrounding it (I speak as someone who has been trawling gossip blogs in order to find out news and gauge peoples’ responses), and even though say, Fox News will give far more coverage to this than the death of Sir Edmund Hillary…he is no less dead. He was only 28, an exceptionally good actor, of the Johnny Depp school of excellence in my opinion, and he had a two year old daughter. A terribly sad thing to hear. Sigh.
Above: I didn’t really need to make the Moonblush Tomatoes from Nigella Express in this silicone dish, but I loved the red-on-red vibrancy it produced. Tomatoes were cheap at the market, and this recipe sounded so easy that I thought I’d give it a bash. Basically, you sprinkle tomatoes (supposed to be cherry ones, but big ones were much cheaper) with a tiny bit of salt and sugar, and some dried thyme, put them in a 220 C oven, and then turn it off and leave them overnight. By which stage they should look like this:
Above: As well as being so fragrant that they drive me to mess with grammatical institutions, the tomatoes go rather excellently in a pasta sauce. I made one up on the spot for dinner the other night; Onions, chopped up pork sausages, a couple of the moonblush tomatoes, a splash of sherry, some capers, a little cream…it tasted deeply flavoursome and delicious. The salad that you can see there was made from radiccio (which I found cheap at Moore Wilsons) roast beetroot and diced avocado. The sweetness of the beetroot and the creamy texture of the avocado seemed to nicely balance the somewhat bitter, yet beautifully purple, radiccio.
Above: Making one’s own chicken nuggets does, on paper, sound absolutely deranged. And I admit, they don’t look that great in the photo (it’s the overexposure?) but these are just so good and not taxing in the slightest. I do, however, recommend you get a buddy to help you with the turning of these in the hot oil or they will burn – the one thing I am likely to do in the kitchen, as you can see from the apple tart above. The recipe comes from Nigella Lawson’s Feast and is all kinds of basic – chicken breasts, cut into goujons, marinated in buttermilk, dipped in cracker crumbs and shallow fried till magically delicious. You’ll never go to McDonalds again…
Above: I’ve heard mixed reviews for Nigella’s Chef’s Salad, but take it from me and my discerning taste buds – this is SO good. I could have snarfed the whole bowl were it not for the fact that it had to go round other people too. It is a mixture of iceberg lettuce, corn kernals, emmental cheese, ham, and avocado, and although it may not sound spectacular it is nigh on addictive.
Above: Despite all my hand-wringing and exclaiming about EVERYTHING above this point, I really think that I have saved the best for last. This is the Caramel Croissant Pudding from Nigella Express, and though I can’t say the recipe looked too exciting at first glance…it is wondrous. I should point out that I have a rather bad habit of going out and buying an expensive main ingredient because I have all the peripheral ingredients, and this is one such instance. I basically made this because Tim was given some bourbon and there are two or so tablespoons in this recipe. Luckily croissants are relatively cheap at the corner shop, and the rest – milk, sugar, etc – are usually close to hand. This was ridiculously fantastic, every bit as good as Nigella says and then some. That’s right. Then some.
“Express Yourself (Hey Hey!)”
Where on earth am I going with this? Well, Express Yourself has always been a Madonna song that I liked, and since I have been cooking from Nigella Express…You know, I do realise that if you have to explain a joke it means it’s not very funny. I should really try to stop being so verbose and just tell you what we had for dinner.
That’s right – “we.” Tim is back! By the by, Ange and I made Emma watch Rent. She said something along the lines of “Well that wasn’t as awful as I thought.” The next day she said she couldn’t get the songs out of her head. I think we are on to something. Tim said not to hold my breath that he would become a fan. I still have hope. I mean, I got him to like Neil Young (but then how could anyone with ears and a soul not…okay, onto the food.)
Above: My first Nigella Express recipe: Linguine with Mushrooms, Lemon and Thyme. It is so simple – chop up button mushrooms, let them sit in olive oil, lemon juice, salt and thyme while you put the water on to boil for the pasta. Let the pasta cook, stir the lot together, and hey presto. I must admit that the marinading mushrooms were so magically delicious that I nearly snarfed the lot before putting them in the pasta. This was Monday night’s dinner. I met Tim at the train station where his bus was getting in (he didn’t know I was coming; he doesn’t have the monopoly on impulsive gestures you know) and it took us a while to get home and this was still quick to make. And seriously easy to eat as well.
Above: Grilled Cheese Sandwich with Coleslaw, which was last night’s dinner. It might sound a little low-rent, but sometimes that is what you desire. This hails from the chapter “Instant Calmers” and indeed, calms instantly. I didn’t follow the recipe to the letter, not that I think it matters since Nigella is constantly encouraging the reader to play around and not be so stringent. I used the sandwich press that I got for my 21st birthday (and a very handy present it is, too) and made the slaw – all very quickly. So quickly that I got a bit silly and decided to make potato cakes too…Well, Tim does need the carbs.
Above: Sorry the images are a little over-exposed, Tim’s camera bit the dust and I don’t know how to change the settings on Stefan’s one. Anyway, this was never going to be one of those blogs with really professional looking pictures. We are looking for a new camera today though, I promise! These are the potato cakes, which Nigella gives as a kind of canape recipe with smoked salmon and shots of vodka. (I’m guessing the latter is optional, but adds extra Swede-ness.) I know anything that you have to fry and flip pancake-style looks like a drag but these are so easy, and charmingly are made from instant potato flakes. They took three seconds to mix together, cooked quickly, and tasted wonderful spread with hummous. And I made the whole lot – potato cakes, sandwiches, coleslaw – in about 20 minutes. It is very exciting. For me. I realise not everyone is as Nigellavangelical as I.
Above: This is what I am really excited about. Nectarine and Blueberry Gallette. I have never bought pre-made pastry in my life – not necessarily because of some snobbish instinct, although I do like to make my own shortcrust – but after reading through Nigella Express I bought a pack of puff pastry sheets (surprisingly reasonably priced, too.) Fruit is marvelously cheap at the moment (better eat up for when it skyrockets in winter) and so I splashed out and got the ingredients for this recipe. It is so simple: Score a one inch frame round a square of puff pastry. Brush the inner square with a spoonful each of jam and cream (I used milk, was all we had.) Tumble over blueberries and sliced nectarine. Bake at 220 C for 15 minutes. And you end up with the most gorgeous, puffy, delicious pudding.
Ange has caught a bus up to Auckland to go to the Big Day Out, which we aren’t going to – I am really looking forward to Rufus Wainwright though. Tonight Tim and I are going out to dinner (because I have a voucher) and afterwards we are going to the flicks to see The Darjeeling Limited (because he has a voucher.) Our date nights are largely supplemented by other people, it would seem…
Benny: “And The Owner Of That Lot Next Door Has A Right To Do With It As He Pleases” Collins: “Happy Birthday, Jesus.”
As the above quote shows, Rent, though written in the nineties and set in the eighties, can still be relevant to people today. Well, me, at least. My parents’ house – the place I grew up in – is mere pit-spitting distance from what used to be the local tavern, back when tiny country villages patronised such premises. It has long been closed down, but now a company wants to turn it into an enormous, chugging oil-rerefinery, which will mean that as we look out our windows the spectre of sky-high silos will greet us. So, the small community is doing its Erin Brockovich Darn’dest to oppose this, but unfortunately, like Maureen’s laboured protest in Rent, we don’t have all that much to fight with.
Meanwhile, camping is blissful, and I am spending a brief hiatus at home in order to pick up Tim, who is travelling up to join us today. I realise Christmas is old news now, but because I have been a trifle busy/lazy, I haven’t got around to posting the pictures till now. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were both a complete flurry of mad cooking in the midday sun.
Above: Nigella’s Frangipane Christmas Mince Tarts. Any smugness I felt at actually making my own fruit mince to put in the pastry cases was swiftly obliterated as I grappled with the nightmare that was the pastry. My parents don’t own a food processor (they do have a blender, so they aren’t complete heathens) so I had to make it by hand, which in the oppressive heat doesn’t make for cooperative pastry. I ended up patching bits onto each other, praying that it wouldn’t stick to the tins, and couldn’t roll it out for love nor money so I only got to make a half batch.
Above: Luckily the sodding things were delicious…all smugness returned.
Above: I made two of the Marzipan Fruit Cakes from How To Be A Domestic Goddess, to give away as presents. They are very easy to make, and the mixture is delicious, all orange scented and rummy. The only difficult thing was lining the sides of the tins with baking paper. Nearly ended up throwing the whole thing out the window.
Above: The baked cake, paper lining and all. Chunks of real marzipan and dried pears make this rather different and luxe, but also make it a mission to stir without flinging chunks of batter into one’s hair.
I don’t seem to have any photos of the Christmas lunch itself, which must have been on a different camera. It was a very relaxed, joyfully low-key affair, and we feasted upon roasted lamb with Za’tar (Christmas present!!), roast chicken, new potatoes, and roasted capsicum, beetroot, and zucchini .
Above: Nigella’s Pomegranate Jewel Cake, from Feast. The perfect cake for (a) a family with members dabbling in Gluten-free, and (b) a family whose members uncharacteristically do not want anything tooo rich for pudding. It is also perfect for Rosh Hashana, for that is the chapter in Feast it came from. It is not, however, a cake to make when you are stressed and have fifty thousand other things that need baking too and you suspect your oven is on the blink. Miraculously everything got cooked in the end, and I even managed to turn this slightly fragile cake out onto its own plate (not having the right-sized springform tin.) Pomegranates are expensive in Waiuku so I only used one, not the two that the recipe stipulated, but I think this still looks gorgeously rubied and very, (although not obviously intentionally), Christmassy.
So that was Christmas Day, and we did the whole shebang again on Christmas Night with a family who have been our neighbours, one way or another, for many many generations, and who are exactly the sort of people you would want to have second pudding of the day with. Now that we are out camping we are still eating very well; I would be able to show you photos as evidence but Blogger won’t upload for some reason. We have been camping there for 21 years now, and each year it gets better and better, but also more crowded unfortunately. I have already read four-and-a-half books – what more could one want for their summer?
I’ll Be Home For Christmas…
But Tim won’t be. I have just returned from the cable car, where I left Tim who was on his way to get his bus to Palmerston North. I’m catching a flight in an hour to Auckland…I know it’s only a week, but why oh why is Palmerston North so far away from Waiuku? Anyway, no need to be doleful because Christmas is nearly here! Hoorah! Fa la la la la! Today is the 23rd of December, “Little Christmas Eve” as my brother and I call it, and this is my last post from Hadfield for the year – next time it will be from the computer at home, and possibly after Christmas.
We have been eating funny meals lately, lots of bits and pieces. We had some bananas growing rapidly decrepit in the fruit bowl, so I thought I’d better make something with them. I ended up making the Banana Muffins from Nigella’s How To Be A Domestic Goddess. I had previously bypassed this recipe because, well, it didn’t really interest me – banana muffins are nice and all, but nothing new, if you know what I mean. Well I should have known that Nige would be able to create something exciting from even the most commonplace thing. The muffins were wonderful – light, spongy, redolent with honey. There is only 2 tablespoons of honey, no actual sugar, only 30g butter (bugger all when shared between 12 cakes) no eggs and no milk. I almost thought there was a typo when I first scanned the page – what on earth held the mixture together, I don’t know, but again, they tasted beautiful.
Above: Nigella’s banana muffins. Eating is believing – these really are special.
Above: Last night’s dinner was effectively the last meal I was going to be cooking for Tim and I before we went our separate ways, and anyone who knows how I feel about cooking dinner will know that this is a big deal. I didn’t want to spend any more money on food, so I followed Nigella’s wonderful pasta recipe, which makes a feast out of bugger all (some flour and a couple of eggs.)
There is a running joke in the flat that Tim and I get very, very tense with each other while trying to wrangle the pasta maker, causing the other flatmates to get nervous at its very presence. Luckily we were mature enough to work out our differences last night, even when I accidentally left the cut pasta in a fast-congealing lump and we had to re-roll the whole lot again. The pasta machine was an impulse buy (as one does) but is worth the effort for the silky, tender, unbelievably delicious pasta it yields.
Above: I tossed the pasta in a little butter and freshly grated nutmeg, and roasted the last of whatever veges we had in the fridge to go with it. Delicious!
Above: Because we are so recklessly impulsive, Kieran, Tim and I decided to go out for breakfast this morning instead of packing. Which is, to be fair, a rather miserable job. We went to Epic again, and it was just as amazing as it was last time. From left – Kieran’s Eggs Montreal, my Vegan big breakfast (“The Herbivore”) and Tim’s Ranch-style cookup. I didn’t feel like anything too heavy, which is why I uncharacteristically went for the vegan feed. It was perfectly filling, the veges were delicious and the grainy bread it was served on was incredible. We sat outside in the sun and sipped spirulinas with our meals. Seriously – go there if you are in Wellington.
Now I have to run round and do that last minute panic thing, as you do, and say goodbye to the goldfish. Not sure when my next post will be but I’m sure everyone’s far too busy to be online anyway. My bags are laden with all the foodie gifts I’ve made for people – I hope like heck that I don’t get fined for overweight luggage at the airport. Merry Christmas Everyone!!
Epic Proportions
I didn’t realise how long it was since I’ve last posted here, so another long post, sorry! This time of year is pretty busy though, and I can’t believe that there is only one week till I go home for Christmas 🙂 and Kieran leaves our flat 😦 although obviously, he will always be a part of Team Hadfield.
Above: Everything was going fine until I realised I’d ran out of cornflour, and of course in the unstable world of pavlova every ingredient is crucial. So I thought maybe I could substitute it with custard powder, which is mostly cornflour anyway, right? Well, I sifted it in, poured over the vinegar…and it made this funny bubbling noise. So I folded it all together, spread the shiny mixture onto the baking tray, and put it in the oven quickly. Then I looked at the ingredients on the custard powder and it had cream of tartar in it. Uh oh! I thought. And hoped for the best.
Above: We ate outside again, because it was so warm. The spag bol tasted great – if only cheese wasn’t so expensive, we could have grated some over the top.
Above: From the top, the Pomegranate Pav, the Nectarine and Passionfruit Pav, and the Chocolate Raspberry Pav. They make me think of Miss World contestants, all lined up like that. Which do you think looks the prettiest? I sure can’t decide…
Get Behind Me, Santa!
Yes, I am excited about Christmas, but December seems to be going too fast. It’s difficult to focus on each day as it goes by, when you do that get up-go to work-come home-get up for work again thing too often. I realise this sounds horribly patronising coming from a student, but as Jamie Cullum said in his eponymous song, “blame it on my youth,” because uni in no way prepares you for the “real world.” I guess what I am try to say, in my bungling way, is that I don’t want to suddenly wake up and it’s Christmas and I have completely forgotten to enjoy the buildup. And go shopping.
By the way – and I can’t think of any better place to say it than here – it is one of my greatest regrets in life that I can’t sing. It’s not like something you can work for in a New Year’s Resolution kind of way – you either have it or you don’t. You may wonder why I begin my post like this, but I was singing loudly along to the Rent soundtrack today while doing the dishes and as I listened to myself caterwaul it struck me that no matter how much I love to sing, no one would ever hire me to star in a Broadway show. Sigh.
- Take a jar of tomato pasta sauce. Empty into a pot, then half fill the jar with water, put the lid on, give it a shake and tip the contents into a pot. Biff a teacup or so of long grain rice into the sauce, and add more water if there doesn’t seem to be enough liquid. Cook at a lowish heat for 20 or so minutes, stirring so it doesn’t stick, until the rice is cooked. Pa-dah!
It is warm, and comforting, and transports even the most low-rent jar of pasta sauce into something seriously delicious.
To go with this I made Nigella’s potato and onion hash, from Feast. It is basically cubed potato, fried till crispy with onion, topped with a fried egg. The perfect supper.
Finally – I swear, this is the last thing – I made the Blackberry and Apple Kuchen from Nigella Bites. Nigella’s version is a sweetened slab of bread which has apple, blackberries, and crumble tumbled over before baking. I had found a punnet of blackberries at the local Four Square for $2.50, and so taken was I with how cheap they were that I had to buy them. This recipe is very easy, the dough is silkily easy to knead and roll out into its tin, and then all you have to do is dice the apple and make the cinnamony crumble. It’s a miracle that I didn’t muck it up somehow, as the final of Outrageous Fortune was starting when I put it in.
Above: Kuchen in the kitchen. This stuff is sooo good!
Am now off to make a list (and check it twice, I know) of ingredients for all the Christmas presents I’m going to be cooking over the next two weeks. Am also hoping that I get paid soon -eek!


