Category: Gluten-free

O Broth, Where Art Thou?

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Just because it is summer in America, does not (unfortunately) mean it is summer in New Zealand. Just putting it out there – while y’all are consuming sorbets and frozen yoghurts and cooling salads, we have had snow in previously un-snowed locales, closed roads, gale force winds…Because of the said seasonal conditions, I have been on something of a soup kick lately. We’ve had it in various forms all week for dinner, and it’s ideal for combatting the incessant sharp chill of winter that permeates our damp, un-insulated, World Health Standard-violating flat.

Soup 1:


Above: Gold on gold…a taste of sunshine for when it’s rainy outside. This soup is something I came up with while riffing on my standard pumpkin soup recipe. Basically it is the same – roasted pumpkin, mashed roughly with a wooden spoon and with stock stirred in – but I added dense, mushy cooked red lentils, a good 2/3 cup which and pretty much made it a complete meal. As well as this I sprinkled over plenty of yellow tumeric, as you can see in this picture, and ras-el-hanout, a spice mix to which I am quite addicted. It isn’t too obscure, most places these days are stocking it, and it imparts headily warm, aromatic, gentle spiciness.

As well as being seriously healthy, pumpkin and lentils are two of the cheapest things around these days. The lentils I used were some organic ones my mum sent me and the pumpkin was from the local vege market. Mmm, moral fibre and actual fibre in one bowl.

To go with the soup, and to augment the sunny golden-ness, I whipped up a batch of cornbread. The recipe I use is Nigella’s and is a favourite of mine, it always works and can be fiddled and faddled with to no ill effect and is the perfect accompaniment to almost anything (particularly butter…)

Cornbread

175g cornmeal (or polenta, same diff so look for either)
125g plain flour
45g caster sugar
2 t baking powder
250ml full fat milk
1 egg
45g butter, melted

Set oven to 200 C. Grease whatever you’re using – a muffin tin, a 20cm-ish brownie tin, etc. What I usually do is melt the butter in a decent sized microwave-proof bowl. Then I stir in the milk and egg with a fork. Then tip in all the dry ingredients, mix till just combined – don’t worry about lumps – then pour into your receptacle and bake, for 20-25 minutes. I have made this with superfine cornmeal and the more granular stuff, and a mix of the two, anything is fine really although the granular stuff gives slightly more bite to your finished product.

We had this soup again, with leftover cornbread for mopping up, the next night. This time I roasted some carrots as well and mashed them in once tender. They gave an added note of natural sweetness which was quite effective…
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Soup 2:

One of my favourite things about Cuisine magazine is Ray McVinnie’s Quick Smart column, where he gives, every month – how does he do it? – an exhaustive list of meal ideas and recipes based on a particular theme. After reading his promptings to make any number of soups, I tried this. I sauteed finely chopped onions and garlic, then added some chopped free-range bacon, stirring till cooked. I added diced, floury potatoes, dried thyme, and porcini stock, and allowed it to simmer till the potatoes were utterly tender and melting into the stock. I sprinkled over some nutmeg and pink peppercorns and biffed in a crisp green handful of chopped spinach, which wilted on impact. This deliciously thick, comforting soup was what Tim and I ate while watching Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story on DVD. After we finished watching it we weren’t overly impressed, but the next day we were repeating quotes back and forth and cracking up…anyway it’s worth it for Jack White’s cameo as Elvis Presley alone.

On Friday night Tim and I had fish and chips, a decision perhaps fuelled by the amount of wine I had at after-work drinks that afternoon (nothing to worry about, but put it this way – I didn’t make it to Bikram yoga.) Through work I scored free tickets to see Samuel Flynn Scott, one of New Zealand’s most prolific musicians. He is well-known for his work with the Phoenix Foundation and the Eagle vs Shark soundtrack, as well as dabbling in other side projects yet…I’d never really heard any of his stuff. All I knew about him was that he was endowed with a fullsome beard and had participated in our Smoking: Not Our Future campaign. What can I say – we had a great night. He and his equally beardy band Bunnies on Ponies were tight, charismatic, fun, and the banter mercifully tended to err on the side of witty. Because I’ve never really heard much of their music I wouldn’t want to make any comparisons in case they were absolutely wrong but…they had a kind of ModestMouse-happyREM-SplitEnz thing going on. They finished with a rousing cover of the Kinks’ Village Green Preservation Society, a ditty that I love…

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On Saturday I was lucky enough to catch up with my mother and my godmum, who were in town for a language teachers’ conference…after an enormous lunch with them at the Black Harp Tim and I had soup number 3 for dinner – a light, noodly Japanese-style broth.

Soup 4:

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I have stopped buying exciting ingredients with such mad gay abandon these days, partly because of money, partly because of lack of space, but when I found some dried borlotti beans going very cheaply at the Meditteranean Warehouse in Newtown I consciously ignored that rule…They were soaked, and simmered up for Nigella’s Pasta e Fagioli from Nigella Bites. It couldn’t be simpler – it is basically just cooked up beans and pasta. I added a tin of tomatoes and a splash of sherry, and it made for a perfect Sunday night dinner. No accompaniments necessary, apart from a spoon.

Tim and I start back at university tomorrow. It seems like just yesterday that I was dashing up hill and down dale in February trying to register for my classes in the sweltering heat and now I’m in my final term. I’m doing three 3rd year papers this semester, hopefully it’s not too gruelling, but then I think to myself, surely nothing could be as gruelling as the photography paper. By the way, I finished up with a good, solid B as my final mark for that particular gem of a class, not bad eh what? And in a matter of months I shall be Laura Vincent, BA…

I Fought The Raw And The Raw Won

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So. Raw, Vegan Food. Doesn’t exactly inspire lusty salivation. Especially not in the middle of a cold, sharp winter. I have nothing against shunning meat – why, some of my best friends are vegetarian! But I feel it’s a bit like deep-frying and haircuts and hiking: better done by other people. And I suppose I can see the thought process behind veganism, you know, don’t harm animals, sustainability, etc. But two crucial words: no butter. It just seems so strident, so militant, so charmless. And is there anything more unloveable than forced-smile cupcakes made with a cup of mollasses and powdered egg replacement?

I’m hoping here that the vegan community doesn’t rise up with fists and come to bludgeon me with a sustainably produced baseball bat. What I’m trying to say is, while I don’t think a life without butter (don’t get me started on cheese) is really a life lived, I do, despite appearances, love diversity and finding new recipes and being healthy. Some of the best places to look for these are vegetarian and vegan cookbooks, because of what they lack a certain fresh inventiveness is inherantly required. And this is where my raw, vegan stint came in.

It’s not difficult to imagine the benefits of a raw vegan diet. No nutrients lost, no consumption of anything even vaguely guilt-inducing, no animal fats. I also absolutely could not live off it. For one thing, how would Tim get his carbohydrates? Raw potato, methinks, is not that appetising. And I have no desire to create “cakes” using a dehydrator. But there is a wealth of interesting stuff out there, a particular favourite of mine being the above salad. It was ambitiously labelled a “tagine” on the original site I found it on but…it’s a salad. It’s filling and delicious though, and almost indecently healthy, which is something I always appreciate. I give you my adapted recipe.

Raw Cauliflower Salad

1/2 a good sized head of cauli
1 beetroot
2 carrots
a small handful each of dried apricots and dates
1/4 cup nuts – pistachios are good, as are brazils
Poppy seeds

Basically, you need to chop everything Very Small. That’s all. It’s a bit of a pain, but try to enjoy it as part of the cooking process. Mix everything along with the poppy seeds in a large bowl and pour over the dressing. This is better the next day and makes quite a lot.

Dressing:

1 T tamarind paste, soaked in 1/2 cup water for 30 mins
1 T olive oil
1 T ground tumeric
2 t cumin seeds
1 t coriander seeds


Using a pestle and mortar, bash up the seeds with the olive oil. You could of course, use ground spices and a fork. Add the tamarind water and tumeric, and carefully pour over the salad, mixing it thoroughly (I find a spatula useful here, for scraping out the dressing from the pestle and mortar and mixing the salad without flinging.) Add salt, you’ll probably want a good amount, plus lashings of coriander and mint, which really make this work.
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Seriously, this is very good stuff. I happily ate it as dinner in its entirety (along with some rice for Tim) and…it also goes surprisingly well with proper pork sausages. Another recipe I tried but photographed badly was merely a large beetroot, topped, chopped, and blitzed in the food processor. I stirred in lots of sea salt and coriander and served it as is – we both loved it. Beetroot is so good for you and so cheap this time of year.


Above: This is, of course, Nigella’s classically brilliant Thai Cole Slaw, which I’ve made about a squillion times. You can find a rough guide to the recipe here in one of my much-older posts. And, also composed entirely of raw vegetables and various flavourings.

This is not something I could stick to – as you can tell by my posts about ice cream – but I’ve had fun finding recipes and there’s nothing wrong with eating things as fresh and untampered with as possible. I imagine that the cauliflower salad would be fabulous at a buffet dinner, or as an unorthodox inclusion on the Christmas table (perhaps more applicable to a sunny New Zealand Yuletide though) or just in the fridge for picking at when peckish as one inevitably is 24/7.

I gotta say though, there are some…interesting raw folk out there on the internet. Reminds me of that episode of the Simpsons, where Lisa has the crush on the hardcore vegetarian, who doesn’t eat “anything that casts a shadow.” Hee!

Back to the real world. These are of course, cooked, but quite healthy…I like to keep a stash of muffins in the freezer for if Tim gets low blood sugar or needs a boost. Freezing them is a good way of making sure they don’t get absent-mindedly inhaled (you know how that happens) and it is a good excuse for me to happily potter round the kitchen with butter and sugar without feeling as though I’m contributing to Tim going blind or gangrenous one day (diabetes is a slow but harsh mistress.)

I somehow over the years acquired a few copies of the New World Essentially Food magazine, which, I have to say, can be a little hit and miss with its recipes. Some of them read like packet instructions, and some are just plain undelicious sounding, but it would be hugely uncharitable to say that I don’t enjoy this magazine and haven’t used it. Anyway, within its pages I found this Pumpkin Muffin recipe and loved the sound of it – not least because pumpkins are one of the few very cheap vegetables these days. I added some also-cheap carrot to the mix too. I’d give you the recipe, but Tim and I tidied our bedroom and as is so often the case, I am beggared if I can locate anything, including that particular magazine. If anyone’s really champing at the bit for these though, email me and I’ll see if I can hunt it down and reply. The muffins were so good (sorry!) – hearty and moist and cinnamony.

Above: So good. So good they get the Italicisation of Approval. And yes, I really did look for that rogue magazine.
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Well, I’m now off to watch Outrageous Fortune. Thrilling! The only thing on telly really worth watching (apart from Nigella of course) and the best thing New Zealand has done in my 22 years at least.
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Next time on Hungry and Frozen: I have no clue at this stage. But at least you won’t have your expectations dashed!

Primal Ice Cream

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I said I was going to feature my raw-vegan-food experimenting, but, I lied. Should probably have thought a little harder before commiting to that “next time” feature. To make up for it; a post about ‘gasp’ JUST ONE DISH. The reason for such uncharacteristic brevity is not a sudden foray into the soul of wit, but to display my entry for the Ice Cream blogging event – my first ever go at a blogging event – at Mike’s Table: I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For Frozen Desserts. While the name doesn’t trip off the tongue, it did get me inspired to make something frozen, perfectly timed for Wellington’s bitterest winter since July 1929. Disregard that last bit, as I made it up, but don’t disregard this amazing Cinnamon-Date ice cream. Which I also made up. See what I did there?

You may well wonder, where does she get off saying her own creation is amazing? Well, frankly it is. Lucky break, I guess, but there’s no need for false modesty. I’ve made this before, and looking back it is a nice pat-on-the-back reminder that I really did learn a bit in my photography class since then.

Above: All together now, “I wanna live with a cinnamon girl, I could be happy, the rest of my life…”

Cinnamon Date Ice Cream

This is an original recipe insofar as I (a) haven’t seen it anywhere before and (b) entirely invented it myself. Having said that, I am studiously avoiding googling it in case there are forty-squillion variations and it’s common as muck. You don’t need an ice cream maker for this because…I haven’t got one and have made perfectly lovely stuff without it. This is altered slightly from my original recipe, but only in the name of improvement.


150g dates, chopped
1/4 cup muscovado sugar
50g butter
1/4 cup water
2 t ground cinnamon
1 400g (or so) tin sweetened condensed milk
Full cream milk
500mls (2 cups) cream. Okay, so it’s not going to win any health awards.

Probably the most difficult thing about this recipe is chopping the dates. They are sticky and don’t take well to cleaving (well, would you?) Firstly, melt the butter in a good sized pan and stir in the brown sugar. Once it has combined into a caramelly puddle, tumble in your dates and water and stir thoroughly. The dates will soften and the whole thing will become almost jammy, add the same amount of water again if need be. Remove from the heat, and stir in the cinnamon and condensed milk. Now, fill up the empty can with full-cream milk and tip that into the pan, stirring the whole thing together thoroughly. Finally, whip the cream and fold it into the mixture. It will be a little odd as the date mixture is so liquidy, but persevere and it will come together without any trouble. Taste – and taste again because it’s so nice – and decide for yourself if it needs any more cinnamon. Pour into a container and freeze, stirring after a couple of hours to break things up a bit.

This is intensely fabulous – as I noted first time around, the cinnamon makes it somehow warming even though it’s frozen. The tooth-dissolving sweetness of the raw mixture is banked down when it freezes, leaving only caramelly smoothness. The dates become marvelously toffee-ish when frozen, almost like chunks of praline. Very grown-up stuff, and the perfect ice cream for winter.

So, there it is; my entry. I should note that I enjoyed being able to revisit one of my recipes, as I can’t really afford to test them out rigorously. I look forward to seeing what other people have come up with, to store the inspiration for when we are enjoying balmier climes…

I’ve already mentioned once or twice that I long to write one brilliant cookbook, but as I was walking to work (via a visit to Tim at Starbucks) I had – and one must turn to Elphaba who says it best – “a vision almost like a prophecy; I know it sounds truly crazy, and true, the vision’s hazy…” It was so unbelievably simple that I ground to a halt. I want more than just a cookbook-I want – one day – a bakery/cafe, where I make all sorts of goodies – including inventive gluten-free fare, fresh-baked bread rolls, and any number of amazing cakes and cakelets. Tim could make the coffee and manage the mathmatical side of things, and he could also be my chief recipe taster. I could purchase lots of mismatched, otherwise-unloved second-hand chairs and cutlery and cups and saucers and play only fantastic music over the speakers. Tim’s coffee would be incredible (the boy has talent) and we’d have Havana and Mojo and Illy and all the other big names fighting to be our providers. In the summer I could make tubs of ice cream to dish out by the coneful, and in the winter, a huge pot of ever-simmering soup. We’d live in the flat above the shop, and never branch out into a franchise – just keep it cosy and exclusive. We’d have a whole host of regulars – possibly including an inscrutible customer who drinks black coffee and types on their laptop and eventually goes on to write the great New Zealand novel – And from there I could write and finance my cookbook, while doing a little freelance subediting on my computer (no, I haven’t let go of that one, it’s just the idea of a life spent hunting solely for mis-placed semicolons seems a little…cold.) And one day our bakery-cafe would be known as an icon of wherever it may be located.

Well, a gal’s got to have a dream, doesn’t she? I don’t know why it suddenly hit me that this was what I wanted, I’ve never had any real desire to work in hospitality (I can tell you now, I’d be a terrible waitress) and I even worked in a bakery for the better part of a year without thinking it was where I wanted to make my career. But such is the prerogative of youth. Tim even seemed enthusiastic. Well, I said “accounts” very quickly and “chief taster” loud and slow. Obviously it can’t happen for a good long while – does there still exist those cosy little shops with flats above them? But you might as well know because there’s only so long I can keep this thrilling, distracting idea hugged to myself, and I don’t see any reason why it can’t work out exactly as I’d like it to.

Finally – we had a visitor on Thursday.

One of the particularly charming things about where I live is the dense cat population. I’d never seen this particular kitty before though. He was a solid, brickish cat, entirely grey, and BIG. He reminded me of the late Micky, a cat who was also barrell-like and vocal. This cat had the most peculiar miow, it sort of went…mirwooo.
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Above: He wasn’t camera-shy, either.
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Next time: Forty-seven different dishes in one post, including, definitely, the raw veganry.

“Reasons/To Justify Each Move…”

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I have a bad habit of telling Tim about things I was going to, but didn’t. Like, “oh Tim, I was going to buy you No Country For Old Men on DVD for you but I didn’t because it was too expensive,” or, “I was going to photocopy that Raconteurs interview I found in a magazine at work but then I ran out of time,” or, “I was going to hang out the washing but…I didn’t.” I sort of justify it by saying, hopefully, “it’s the thought that counts?”
A bit like how I justify my complaining by saying to him “if I didn’t complain, you wouldn’t know how I feel!” (and then inevitably find out that he has had a mercilessly sore tooth for three days and not said a word.)
Today I found myself in the changing room at Portmans with some cardigan despite trying to save money – I don’t even like Portmans, I was in town to buy the book American Psycho for uni! But if I didn’t tell you, you wouldn’t know…
I’ve made these gluten-free brownies before, and had a hankering to make them again, brought on partly out of necessity – the bananas in the freezer were taking up too much room and needed to be dealt with. Oh, and although blackened, overripe bananas are often said to be the best for baking, no-one ever mentions how disgusting they are to handle. There’s something unbelievably nasty about their softly slippery texture, and the creepy oozy liquid left behind from the skins. (Still feel like brownies?) Sorry, but someone had to say it. No matter, once incorporated into the mix, they are nothing but delicious.
I won’t repeat the recipe because you can just click the link above, but I added a spoonful of golden syrup this time, and cooked it for slightly less – 25 minutes at 180, then 10 minutes at 150. Don’t know why, it just instinctively felt right.
And ohhh how delicious they tasted, emitting cries of “but they don’t even taste gluten-free!” from those who tried them. I realise it’s easy for me, a red-blooded gluten-muncher, to say, but for all that I’m thankful for advances in technology I love gluten-free baking where you don’t have to go purchasing forty different bags of various flours and pastes to make the whole thing stick together. These brownies are tenderly bound with the magical alchemy of peanut butter, bananas, cocoa, and eggs, and somehow come together to taste squidgy and densely chocolatey, and not at all like some kind of sawdusty substitute.
That’s not all I baked. At work yesterday, I was flipping through a magazine and no sooner had I snidely commented “You know, I’m never really inspired by the food section of the New Zealand Woman’s Weekly, there’s something so dull and prosaic about their recipes…” than I found myself contritely scribbling down TWO recipes onto post-it notes because I wanted to try them myself. To the NZWW: I apologise. The following recipe is brilliant…
I was very taken with the idea of this chewy slice, containing some of my favourite things – caramelly dates, walnuts, dark chocolate (I threw in some pumpkin seeds)…and there’s no butter in it which sort of keeps costs down (of course, once you’ve bought walnuts and chocolate it’s hardly cheap, but c’est la vie). The recipe itself called for a 400g pack of dates which I thought would swamp the delicate mixture, so I used about 300g. Oh and it asked for vanilla essence, for shame! Use vanilla extract or vanilla sugar, but don’t ruin your gorgeous ingredients with essence, please….

Chewy Date, Walnut and Chocolate Slice
2 eggs
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup self-raising flour
Dates, chopped, between 300 – 400g as you see fit
Chopped walnuts (they ask for a cup, I just threw in a handful willy-nilly)

Dark chocolate, chopped, I used about 100g

 

Turn your oven to 160 C. Beat eggs and sugar together like mad for about five minutes, till pale, thick and moussy. Use a whisk, it’s good arm excercise and means you can eat more slice later. Oh and try not to do what I did, which was dribble batter onto the bench, then accidentally hit the whisk’s handle so it flings batter all over the stove top and onto my face and clothes…gently, gently, fold in the flour, then the extra bits, and spread into a baking-paper lined medium sized brownie tin. I use a big piece of paper which overlaps at the edges so I can lift it out in one go afterwards for slicing. Bake for 35 minutes, and I recommend leaving it for a bit before you slice it. Nonetheless, this is easy and quick enough to whip up should company unexpectedly arrive demanding tea and cakes (without actually saying so, of course.)
Above: Paul and I were the only ones home when I made this so donned our tester hats, (I made him vow that if it turned out to be a disastrous mess we’d bin it and pretend I’d never baked anything in the first place). Luckily, it was fabulous, the moussy eggs and sugar baked into a light casing for the delicious fillings, and as I bit in I never knew if my teeth were going to hit buttery walnuts, chewy dates, or soft, melting chocolate…It cracks a bit on top as you cut it, but this isn’t really a problem unless you’re making it for the sort of person for whom aesthetic issues like this are a problem, but as I try not to associate with people like that I think things will work out nicely. I can definitely see myself making this again and again in the future.
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I mentioned quite a while ago that Rent is closing on Broadway – juuuust too soon for me to consider actually going there to see it (well, we have to get to England first, let alone New York) but the original cast are going to appear at the 2008 Tony Awards sometime this month, so hopefully some bright spark puts it on Youtube asap. Speaking of Youtube and Rent, there was recently a benefit concert of Chess with Idina Menzel and Adam Pascal (I know!) Although I was lucky enough to see many musicals as a youth I never caught Chess, but after watching a couple of clips on Youtube, wow! “Nobody’s Side” is one heck of a song, the sort you want to start again as soon as it finished. And I did. It made so much sense when I found out that the two B components of ABBA were behind the writing of the music…

“To Days Of Inspiration…”

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In one week Tim and I will, bar a couple of exams a-looming, have finished our penultimate semester at university. Scary stuff. Almost as scary as watching how much oil felafels absorb. Good grief. There I was thinking they were practically health food.

Above: I mean, what with the chickpeas and all. I even threw in a handful of organic sprouts (freebie from the Wellington Food Show!) I loosely followed a recipe from gorgeous blog The Puku, but had a bit of trouble making the chickpeas (whizzed into crumbs by the food processor) to form a manageable “paste” – refrigerating your felafel before frying helps though.
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Above: Kindly ignore the carcinogenic bits. I’m truly terrible at shallow and deep frying, and it seemed that the small cakes blackened as soon as they hit the pan, sponging up an awful lot of oil without really cooking. They tasted fabulous despite all this, and don’t take that long to warm through. Delightfully crunchy and nutty, warmly fragrant with cumin seeds…it’s worth having the kitchen (inevitably) reek of oil and the house filled with smoke. And there’s something about felafel that always reminds me of The Adventures of Hercules (used to be on Friday nights, before Xena), it used to be family viewing in my house and I’m sure there was some kind of humourous interlude regarding felafel. I realise I’m rambling here…
Speaking of those sprouts, I’ve had ZERO response from the people I handed out my business card to at the food show on Sunday. Still, nothing ventured…
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Above: This soup was intensely annoying to photograph. I’d point the lens towards the bowl, the lens would steam up…repeatedly. So; sorry that it’s not a great photo. The unfortunate thing about photographing one’s dinner prior to consumption is that I’m usually very hungry and impatient.
Despite all my complainings about what a horrible time of year it is academically, it is a marvelous time to be in Wellington. One reason. The Wellington Library Book Sale. Ohhhhhh it’s awesome. The library itself is amazing enough (They have the Wicked soundtrack and Cat Power and the John Peel compilations, and that’s just their CD section) but their sale is, as Marjorie Dawes might say, “summin else!” I haven’t had time this year for an extensive perusal but have managed to get my sticky paws on a couple of back issues of Cuisine, Gourmet Traveller, and Taste, and a most brilliant discovery – Claudia Roden’s Food of Italy book. It’s not a new book by any means (my copy was reprinted in 1999) and it’s as fat as a chick-lit novel with no pictures. But I read the whole thing in two nights, and long to make everything from it. Nigella (of course) is the reason that Claudia Roden caught my eye in the first place, and I heartily suggest you look her up. Anyway, minestrone is one of the recipes in the book, and is what inspired last night’s dinner.
Which ended up not resembling minestrone at all. But hey. It started off that way, with onion, carrots, celery and potato sweating it out in a pot. I added parsnips, which gave it an incredibly delicious sweetness, and a porcini stock cube from a parcel Mum sent me a while ago. A spoonful of tomato paste, and a handful or two of barley…and that was it. Very simple, but very, very good. I love being inspired in the kitchen.
Above: To go with, because I was so fired up with Italian-nicity by Roden’s book, I decided to tinker with her baked polenta recipe to create something…not exactly original, (though I’ve certainly never seen it done before) but magically delicious at least. And face it, which is more important here?
I’m not quite sure if this recipe technically worked as such so I’m a little reluctant to hand out the recipe. It’s kind of like eating a liquidised margherita pizza. And if you’re wondering, the answer is yes. That is indeed my breakfast smoothie of choice.
Above: Tim and I ate ALL of this, even though it probably could serve four. And, uh, we could have ate more, had there been some to hand.
Baked Tomato Polenta
150g polenta
600mls water
400g can chopped tomatoes
Cheese and butter at your own discretion…

I’m not sure that it matters whether or not you use the coarse, gritty polenta or the finer, flourier stuff. I used a mix of both because I had a tail-end bag of each. Oh and if you can’t find it at the shop, try looking for “cornmeal” (same diff…)
Put the polenta and water in a good sized pot, and stir vigorously to break down any lumps. Bring to the boil slowly, stirring in one direction only. This is very important. I couldn’t even begin to imagine why. Now it’s worth pointing out here that when I made this last night, it didn’t really boil but thickened hugely, with the occasional slow-moving bubble breaking the surface. I can only presume I was doing the right thing as the end result tasted fab. As it gets very thick keep stirring, keep this up for a couple of minutes over a low heat. Add butter if you like (and I do!) and a handful of grated cheese too. Remove from heat, stir in the can of tomatoes, which will turn it a glorious orange colour. Spread this mixture into a small roasting dish – the sort you might bake brownies or slice in – sprinkle over grated cheese and cover with foil. Now, bake it for about 45 minutes, removing the foil and grilling it at the end if you like. Now, this won’t quite be sliceable – unless yours turns out as Roden intended – but there is nothing wrong with a sludgy scoop of it in a bowl. It is ridiculously good; it belongs in the upper echelons of “ultimate comfort food.”
Tim got up at 5am today to go to a pub with Paul to watch Man U (about whom Paul is fanatical) play Chealsea. For everyone’s sakes, I’m so glad they won. I prefer a more leisurely start to my Thursday, (first sleep-in of the week!) so I rose at 8am, and, thinking I had the flat to myself, began singing VERY LOUDLY and expressively along to Rent. It was with a red face that I greeted Emma as she came out of her room some time later. My singing voice could charitably be described as “thin, but lustily enthusiastic”… I decided to do a repeat performance of Nigella’s muesli muffins that I first made earlier this year (click *here* for the link to the recipe, which I can’t be bothered posting twice) and loved. With their oaty interior and potential for fiddling with (and fiddle I did) they seemed like the ideal thing to make this morning for when Tim returned home, bleary eyed.
Above: As with last time, I didn’t have any actual muesli to hand, so improvised with rolled oats, linseeds, currants, and chopped, dried apricots. Instead of buttermilk I used half milk and half Greek yoghurt (that I had incubated a few days previously). I reduced the sugar and squirted in a rippling spoonful of golden syrup, just for kicks.
Above: I love this recipe. Tim and I had one each and I put the rest in a Tupperware container, to try and shove into our crowded freezer. I’ve taken to making a batch of muffins and freezing them, either for Tim when he gets low blood sugar, or just for a snack to stop myself buying forty-five chocolate bars from the 4-Square down the road in a moment of desperation. Surprisingly useful on both counts.
This time tomorrow I will be in Palmerston North, for Rent, before zooming back to Wellington again on Saturday morning. I’m pretty excited although it has come around so fast that I haven’t had much time to think about it (which is probably a good thing, as it squashes such deep-seated issues as Their Collins is white! and Will people moo? and such and such) I have my final photography assignment due on Tuesday, and it’s going to mean a lot of time spent, mole-like and dry-eyedly blinking behind the computers at uni. I can’t even be sarcastic about how “fun” that’s going to be.
It’s probably worth mentioning that we have something resembling a flat cat (emphatically not a pet, as they are forbidden on the lease, and anyhow I’m 99% positive that a cat this sleek must belong to someone.) It is a gorgeous little tabby – the sort that hasn’t quite grown out of “large kitten” stature and never will – and he comes and visits us regularly. We have dubbed him Oscar (as in Wilde – well, we are a flat of BA students) and he is really flipping adorable. I’m sure many of you won’t need me to prompt you, (and I apologise if this errs too far on the side of geeky for some of you) but if you feel like a dose of kitteh hilarity then you really should visit I Can Has Cheezburger? Lolcats galore!

Just Spent Six Months In A Leaky Blog

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My blog is six months old! In a time where technology moves so eye-wateringly fast, I feel I’m justified in getting a little misty-eyed over the half-year existence of my little blog that could. It feels like just last week that I was getting excited over my 200th hit!

Speaking of milestones, our weekend in Hawke’s Bay (for Tim’s grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary) was a fantastic time, a large part of which was spent solidly grazing. We were also able to reap the benefits of one of life’s happiest pairings – someone who has a massive feijoa tree but doesn’t like to eat them. The feijoa is one of my very favourite fruits, and for some reason in my mind they are one of those fruits you don’t actually go out of your way to buy – you should just know someone who has a windfall. When living in a damp city full of apathetic university students though, one can’t expect to find them that easily. While up north we managed to get two shopping bags full of this wonderful fruit, by pillaging a family friend’s trees, and I absolutely can’t wait to do something with them – feijoa ice cream mayhaps – slices perched atop a pavlova – maybe some kind of pork-adorning salsa – or just eaten one after the other after the other after the other, cut in half and scooped out with a teaspoon.

For some odd reason, the feijoa is only really widely known in New Zealand, which seems a nice enough trade-off for all the things we don’t have here (Primark, Minstrel chocolates, access to Neil Young, 12th century cathedrals) It has a dense, gritty, pear-like texture and an elusive fragrance not unlike passionfruit. Heavenly.

Speaking of our weekend away, I completely forgot to post about the gluten free peanut butter biscuits I took up along with the Quince Loaf. This is the third time I’ve made these biscuits and the third time I’ve forgotten to blog about them…and the third time I’ve been solemnly staggered by how quick, easy and delicious they are. The recipe can be found here, from when I made them a few weeks ago.


Above: I ended up with two-tone biscuits, because the ones on the tray on the top shelf of the oven browned faster than those on the bottom shelf. Rigorous testing proved that there was no difference in taste though. Equally fab.

By way of further illustrating why you should always write things down (or is that, why I should write things down), I give you tonight’s dinner. I thought that I could use my creme fraiche in a simple pasta dish loaded with vegetables and garlic, and only realised after eating it that I’d forgotten half the things I was planning to put into it.


Above: There was carrot, courgette, and capsicum, but my brain mislaid the information about adding tomatoes, frozen peas (even though I bought them specially after work!) and pine nuts.
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I began by julienning the carrots and capsicum (all the while imagining I was a sous-chef in New York – inexplicably the words “julienne” and “sous-chef” are intertwined to me), and blanching them in a pan full of water in which I also placed about five cloves of garlic. The garlic simmered away and became soft and mellow, rather than burning and acrid. After fishing out the vegetables, I cooked the pasta in the same water and then drained it, stirring in some creme fraiche and the cooked vegetables. The garlic cloves I chopped roughly and mixed in too. It was certainly good – the creme fraiche made a kind of instant sauce – but all I can think about is what it would have been like had I not forgotten half the components.

This weekend we are flying up home for my best friend’s 21st, and next weekend I hope that we can go to Levin (in all honesty, the first time I’ve used “Levin” and “I hope that we can go to” in the same sentence) to catch a performance of Rent. I can’t find a review online for love nor money so it’s a bit of a gamble, but the idea of finally seeing this show onstage, no matter where, is too exciting to miss out on. In what seems like positively providencial circumstances, Palmerston North will be having their own production of Rent in May. I’m trying to convince Tim that two productions so very close to Wellington means this is a sign that it’s all meant to be but he’s still not quite buying it. Never mind, my birthday is a-pending which means he is obliged to humour me (if only briefly, for his sanity’s sake.) Oh and did I mention that Puccini’s La Boheme, the opera which inspired the very musical of which I speak, is coming to Wellington?

<.twilightzonevoice/.> “Doo-dee-do do, Do-dee-do do”

"In The Cold, Cold Night…"

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Baby, it’s cold outside…in Wellington, at least. Talk about hungry and frozen. I didn’t plan on making vegetable soup this early on in the year but what else can you do in this situation?

Above: Vegetable soup always reminds me of home, of making a large vat of it every weekend in winter, and letting it sit warmly in the crock-pot, only getting better with time.
I don’t follow a recipe, but I think you have to have onions, celery, and carrots – the basis of many a slow-cooked meal – and I like to really let the vegetables cook (I refuse to say sweat!) before adding any liquid. Because I was all out of the classic King’s Soup Mix, I just used some lentils and barley that I found in our pantry. By the way, King’s Soup Mix isn’t nearly as declasse as it sounds – it’s just a prepacked bag of lentils, beans and barley. It is very cheap, and so good for you – I don’t know why people don’t make this all the time.

So that was dinner last night. To go with I made a rather sassy Puy lentil, pea and feta salad. After adding peas to my lentil soup the other day, it struck me that this humble frozen vegetable could be paired with lentils in other ways. The earthy darkness of the Puy lentils, the perky green sweetness of the peas and the creamy saltiness of the feta was surprisingly moreish.
Above: I didn’t actually measure anything so I can’t give you an exact recipe…however I did make a dressing out of three tablespoons each extra virgin olive oil and red wine vinegar. With so few ingredients it should be easy to recreate it yourself, if you are so inclined.
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Above: Unfortunately I remain intimidated by our new camera, as you can see by this picture where the meal is out of focus and the wooden spoon is in. I tell you, I can’t seem to get it the other way around. I’d like to think there’s something wrong with our camera…but I suspect it’s still me.
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More soul food (if you can see it in that photo, anyway!) tonight in the form of a layered meat and pasta dish from Annabel Cooks, by NZ author Annabel White. It is very basic, a kind of no-effort lasagne – cooked small pasta is mixed with sour cream and cream cheese, and layered with mince that has been cooked in the usual spag-bol kind of way, topped with cheese, and baked. It sounds too simple and seen-it-all-before to be any good, but in fact I think she’s on to something. Much depends on the quality of your meat sauce, I’d recommend using red wine in it, and a tin of tomatoes instead of some premade pasta sauce. It is very comforting bowl-food, and helped to stave off the chilliness of our (inevitably freezing) student flat momentarily.
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As Nigella The Wise says in How To Be A Domestic Goddess, the benefits of colder climes are largely culinary, and I heartily concur. I can’t wait to try out more soups (getting ever-closer to The Lentil Soup), rich casseroles, melting stews, baking more bread in the weekends (proving it by the heater if need be), dusting off my pudding steamer…and, er, my Pilates DVD…

Rainy Day Woman

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Today – Saturday – was just as wet and miserable as last weekend. Luckily I love rainy weekends – cosying up with a blanket, becoming engrossed in a book, lazily browsing the internet…However with breakfast and lunch lamentably comprising only of Chocolate Guinness Cake, I forced myself to leave the house to get some fresh air, and found myself at Moore Wilson’s. Wherein I bought some organic buttermilk, some feta, a tub of white miso paste, and two quinces.

Above: Oh! You pretty things. I love quinces. In New Zealand now is the time for them, so grab one if you can. They are impossible to find year-round, absolutely rock hard and have to be cooked very slowly but their incredible fragrance and sweetness makes it worth the effort. Nigella has a whole swag of recipes for this particular fruit so I look forward to trying something new.
I got back to the flat in an advanced state of saturation. My $4 Kmart white canvas sandshoes (that are now rather fashionable and you can’t get them cheaply anymore) are on their last legs, and were completely filled with water. So, after getting out of my miserably drenched clothes I decided to make a warming curry for dinner, filled with vegetables and even some soul-soothing lentils to counteract the day’s cake-eating. (That’s a little misleading actually – I assure you, I did put some more clothes on before starting on the curry. I think the world only needs one Naked Chef…)
Pumpkin Curry For a Rainy Saturday

This is a very gentle and mild – no chilli at all, come to think of it – so if your tastebuds are made of stronger stuff than mine, by all means add as much chilli as you dare.
1/2 a pumpkin, chopped into large dice
1 T butter
1 onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, chopped finely
1 red capsicum, diced
2 tomatoes, diced
2 T tomato paste
1 t ground cinnamon
2 t cumin seeds
1 t ground ginger
1/4 cup red lentils
1/2 cup coconut milk
1/2 t garam masala
Melt the butter in a decent sized saucepan. Stir the onion, garlic, cinnamon, cumin seeds, and ginger together over a gentle heat till the onion is soft, but not browned. Add the tomatoes and paste (or if this is too much of a pain, just half a tin of chopped tomatoes) and the capsicum, and let this cook for a bit. Tip in your orange chunks of pumpkin, and then add 250mls water to the pan. You might need more depending on the size of your pan, you want the pumpkin pieces half-submerged in the water. Bring this to the boil then lower the heat and simmer till the pumpkin is nearly tender. At this stage add the lentils, and a bit more water – about half a cup. Simmer till the lentils have disappeared into the sauce. Finally add the coconut milk and the garam masala. Don’t let it boil at this stage. Serve over rice. This will feed 2 or three people. Just add a bit more of everything if you have more people over.
Above: I served it over brown rice, which is not so hard to cook as people think. This is the method I use: bring a pot of water to the boil, tip in a cup of brown rice, boil the living heck out of it for about 15 minutes or till it’s soft but firm, then drain. It barely takes longer than white rice. The curry itself was warm and inviting, the perfect thing to be eating by the greedy bowlful with this inhospitable rain beating against the windows.
Above: I made this quick pizza for dinner the other night, using a recipe of my paternal grandmother’s that I found whilst browsing through a folder of recipe clippings that I compiled as a teenager. I don’t think she was that much of a ‘foodie’ – for all I know she may never have actually made this recipe – but it is still meaningful to me that I got her cookbooks and bits and pieces. This particular recipe involves melting butter and frying in it garlic, diced tomato and sliced courgettes, and I assume it is supposed to be a side dish. Well I made it one night, and was so taken with the simple but delicious flavours, that I had to make it again, and soon. On Thursday night, having made it for the second time, I spread it thickly over a scone dough base (the recipe of which I found in Alison Holst’s Dollars and Sense, which my brother got me for Christmas) topped it frugally with cheese, baked it, and ate it whilst watching Coronation Street on telly, which Katie has got me back into. I see that Gail Platt is as depressing as she was last time I was into this show -rather comfortingly, some things never change.
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We are having something of a David Bowie Renaissance in the flat – his songs are just so densely brilliant that they don’t lose any gloss with repeat (and I mean repeat) listenings. Just try not to hug the next person on the street you see after listening to Modern Love – possibly the greatest song of all time (along with all the other greatest songs of all time.)
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It is just Tim and I in the flat tonight – Paul is in town, Katie and Stefan are in Napier, and Emma has trotted down to Dunedin. I’m trying to convince Tim that watching Rent would be the perfect way to end a rainy Saturday…but I think we might end up compromising with Green Wing, Season 1. Eh, either way I win!
Update: We actually watched some Black Books instead. Whenever I watch this show…I sort of wish I actually was Bernard Black, just for a bit.

Absolut Pask

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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:

Above: My first ever batch of home-made hot cross buns. I used Nigella’s recipe from Feast, and it was a very rewarding process – adding the warm spices, kneading the dough, waiting patiently for it to rise, draping over the flour-water paste to make the crosses, and of course, grabbing the tender buns straight from the oven to be slathered with butter.
Above: As it happened, while arranging my buns I unwittingly created a yeasted tribute to the famous Absolut Vodka ad campaign. Just realised at this point that I should probably let you know that Pask is Swedish for Easter. More Easter Baking:

Above: Gluten Free Choc-Banana Brownies. I can’t tell you how excited I am about these. They were rigorously tested for quality in my flat (ie, they got snarfed within minutes) and were pronounced delicious. Now, I can’t pretend that I truly came up with this myself, in fact it started off as an idea which took shape after a bit of internet research.
First of all, I found this amazing recipe in a woman’s magazine (I forget which) for gluten-free peanut butter cookies. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen this recipe around, but it kicked me into action and I finally made them. They are risibly simple and yet so delicious; I’ve made them three times since and never managed to get a picture because they go so fast. From this sprang forth the brownie idea, but first…
Peanut Butter Cookies: Please, make these. I don’t even go in for peanut butter and I’m a complete fiend for these.
1 cup smooth peanut butter
1 cup sugar (I use half brown half white, but go nuts)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 egg

Preheat oven to 180 C. This is what I recommend you do because PB can be a tacky mess. Take a half-cup measure, and put your sugar in a bowl. Then, using a spoon, scoop peanut butter into the half-cup, and then scoop this in turn into the bowl with the sugar in it. Repeat. I’m not trying to be patronising, but the first time I made this I ended up using nearly every baking implement in the house trying to deal with the peanut butter and it can truly be so much simpler…

Mix together the sugar and peanut butter. Add the egg, stir again, and sift in the baking soda. On two trays lined with baking paper, place smallish balls of the mixture which you have rolled with your hands. Don’t worry about flattening them, and they don’t spread tooooo much so you don’t have to stress about that either. Bake for 12-15 minutes. These won’t be at all crisp when you take them out of the oven, but don’t fret, they harden up as they cool.

Now eat one, and just try to stop yourself eating the entire batch, cleaning the kitchen scrupulously, and telling everyone you never made any in the first place.
So amazed was I at the magical properties of this peanut butter that I wondered if the same thing could apply to a brownie. Because brownies by nature are supposed to be shallow and dense, it left more room for error. After looking at some ideas on the internet, I came up with this – and it is so much greater than the sum of its slightly troubling parts…
Gluten Free Choc-Banana Brownies.
Each ingredient plays its own special part.


1 cup smooth peanut butter – to do its magical thang.
1 cup sugar – To provide bulk and sweetness
2 eggs – To bind it together
2 small, very ripe bananas – To make it densely moist
5 Tablespoons cocoa – To distract from the other flavours, and provide a deep chocolate taste
1/2 cup dark chocolate chips – To add squidge and more chocolate, of course 🙂
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda – I don’t know what this does, but it’s very important.
As with the biscuits, set the oven to 180 C, beat the peanut butter and sugar together, add the rest of the ingredients and pour into a brownie tin of regular dimensions. (You know, rectangular, not tooo big) What I did was bake it for 1/2 an hour at this temperature and then turn it down to 150 C, and bake for a further 15 minutes. Perfect.
I realise the combo of ingredients sounds kind of vile, but you don’t taste the peanut butter at all. The cocoa sort of covers everything up. But oh the irony – celiac flatmate Emma was in Samoa over the weekend (as one does) so she didn’t even get to participate. Luckily I am so enamoured of these brownies that I’m going to repeat them again very soon.
And if you aren’t sick of brown things by this stage –
Above: Chocolate Pear Pudding, from Nigella Express. It’s basically canned pears with a chocolate flavoured sponge baked overtop, but oh! How wonderful it tastes. For Heaven’s sakes, buy this book! I made this for pudding last night (Nigella’s Vietnamese Chicken Salad for dinner) and it is perfect to eat while watching Boston Legal and procrastinating about, well, everything.
I hope everyone had a lovely, relaxing Easter break.

My Funny Valentine

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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.

For my part, I made a rather nice dinner last night. Nothing too taxing – a free range bird, some potatoes roasted stickily in garlic, some frozen peas. But also the nicest thing to eat, to be honest – there is nothing so simple but also celebratory as a roast chicken.
Above: The only thing I love more than roast chicken is planning what I’m going to do with the leftover meat. Because chicken breasts are very expensive, having the cooked meat to toy with is rather thrilling.

Above: At the behest of Nigella’s Feast, I chopped potatoes into cubes and roasted them with olive oil and garlic cloves. After a while I threw in some cauliflower, because you all know how I feel about this particular member of the brassic family. I must admit, every time I took the tray out of the oven to have a stir, I ate more and more of the sweet, sweet, crispy bits…we were rather lucky that there was anything left for dinner.

For dessert, however, I put in a bit more grunt. I had a concept, which didn’t entirely materialise as I thought it might…but hey. It’s the thought that counts on Valentine’s Day, right?

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.

Look what happens when you stir it!

Above: Ooooooooh.
To augment this, I made some flourless chocolate brownies, (the recipe for this, along with the ice cream, can be found in Nigella Express) and the Barbados Cream from How To Eat. Barbados Cream is equal quantities of cream and Greek yoghurt stirred together briskly, with dark brown sugar sprinkled over, left in the fridge overnight. It tastes amazing – creamy and tangy and intensely caramelly.

Above: Pa-da! Yes, that is a heart made out of berries. To be frank this didn’t turn out how I’d hoped, visually, I think I was yearning for some kind of Donna Hay style-presentation. Considering I don’t like Donna Hay all that much I guess I shouldn’t try and channel her, especially considering how generally cack-handed I am – it could only end badly. Luckily everything tasted good. According to the flatmates (the night wasn’t toooo romantic) the brownies are amazing, which is always nice to hear about something you have baked. Everything tasted great together, even if it didn’t look so pretty.

I have been making other stuff lately:

Above: I mentioned in my last post about how enamoured I am with my new yoghurt maker. I am LOVING having yoghurt around (like chicken breasts, and, well, everything, yoghurt is pretty expensive) and used some of it in this Greek Yoghurt Cake that I found in Jill Dupleix’ New Food. It is a very easy to make, and bakes into a large, golden, fragrant cake. I was pleased with how the whole ‘dust-icing-sugar-over-cut-out-shapes’ went, but to be honest I was even more pleased with how good it tasted. I made this on Wednesday in order to herald Kieran’s brief returning to Hadfield before he went back to work in Napier.
Above: I made this for dinner the other night. Burmese Salad from the Healthy Salads book, grilled potatoes with tumeric, steamed beet greens (or pinks as they ought rightly to be named), and meatballs flavoured with, inspired by a recipe in New Food, sake. It was pretty great, not to mention totally, smugly healthy.

Above: Our entire flat (which now includes my cousin Paul, hoorah!) got really quite drunk after pudding last night, which means that it was No Fun getting up for work this morning. However it is in complete sobriety that I wish you Happy Valentine’s Day, dear readers (but I love you every day of the year!)