Dahl, Panch Phoran and Candlelight

Susan wanted to sing from the hilltops like Julie Andrews. Michael and Cindy agreed with her raving. So I expected great things from Susan’s Cauliflower Dal with Panch Phoran. I had this dahl in mind when I purchased a packet of Panch Phoran (or Panch Puran as my packet says) from a local Indian grocery store.

Panch Phoran is a mixture of mustard, cumin, fennel, fenugreek and kalonji (nigella) seeds in equal measure. I thought this must be a fairly authentic Indian flavouring. But Wikipedia tells me that in Bengal, ‘the cradle of this mixture’ radhuni would be used in place of mustard seeds.

I find that spicy sludgy dahl is a great comfort food. It feels like the Indian equivalent of baked beans. This new spice combination interested me as a way of reinvigorating an old favourite. The seed mix is a pretty one with different colours and shapes. When I opened the packet I was hit by a heady fragrance that really was a change from the spices I habitually use. The liquorice smells of fennel and fenugreek were particularly powerful, possibly because these are spices I don’t use much.

When I tempered the seeds (which I have just discovered is when you fry them in ghee or oil until they start to pop) the smell was fantastic and had much more depth than just liquorice. I was really looking forward to this dahl. Unfortunately, once I had simmered the lentils and vegetables, the fragrant spices had faded into the background and I found this dahl to be a little on the bland side. E doused it with Tabasco sauce.

I was a little disappointed. Possibly it was because I neglected to follow Susan’s instructions and cook the lentils separately. It seemed a waste of another saucepan but maybe would have made sure more of the panch phoran flavour was imparted. I also added a few extra vegetables but I don’t think this would have made much difference to the spices. The recipe also required being a little prepared rather than chopping as I go, which is my usual way! A little more experimenting is in order, I think as I want to be able to taste these wonderful spices.

Not only was I cooking with an unfamiliar spice mix but I was also baking Ricki’s quinoa muffins against the clock while the dahl cooked. Why? Because it was earth hour when everyone was encouraged to turn off their lights at 8pm to raise awareness of global warming. I didn’t want to be cooking by candlelight so I was racing to have the dahl served and muffins in the oven by 8pm. I served dinner and managed to take a picture of the meal at 7.59pm. Then we sat and ate our dahl with rice and quinoa by candlelight.

Cauliflower Dal with Panch Phoran
(adapted from Fat Free Vegan)

1½ cups masoor dal or red lentils
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon salt (or to taste)
1 teaspoon canola oil
1 tablespoon panch phoran
1 large onion, diced
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon chilli paste
1 teaspoon ginger, finely grated
400g tin of diced tomatoes
1 head cauliflower, cut into small florets
180g pumpkin, peeled and chopped
½ cup frozen peas
4½ cup water

Rinse the lentils and place in a saucepan with 4 cups of water and tumeric. Bring to the boil and simmer on low for 20 minutes or until tender. Add salt and set aside. (I did the lentils, water and tumeric with the vegetables but do not advise this as maybe this was why the spices didn’t shine.)

While the lentils are cooking, prepare the vegetables. Heat a large stockpot and add oil. Add panch phoran and stir til the seeds start to pop (this is the tempering). Add onions and ginger and fry 2 minutes or til onion is starting to soften. Add chilli paste and garlic and fry 1 minute. Add the tomatoes, cauliflower, pumpkin, peas and ½ cup water, and stir to coat vegetables with spices. Cover and cook for 10 minutes or until the cauliflower is just tender.

Add cooked lentils to the cauliflower mixture. Stir well, and add further seasoning if required. Simmer gently for about 10 minutes to allow flavors to blend. I served mine with a mix of brown rice and quinoa and highly recommend this.

On the stereo:
Delius Orchestral Works: New Zealand Symphony Orchestra

Kenzan @ the GPO – DIY Sushi

Yesterday E and I were in the city making major purchases (a laptop for him and a bread tin for me!) and we were heading for a coffee and cake, when we passed the GPO. I suddenly was struck with a yen to show E the quirky sushi I had found here months ago.

The GPO is Melbourne’s former general post office and like so many old buildings has outgrown its original purpose in the last decade. It is a gorgeous Renaissance Revival building with a soaring clocktower and elegant archways. I remember it as the place you went for stamps and paying bills in the good old days. In fact, as a fresher student in O Week I had to do the dead ant dance on its steps with my fellow freshers – makes me so glad not to be a student any more!

These days it is full of boutique shops. The little laneway between the GPO and Myers Department Store is full of stylish eateries which get very busy at lunchtimes but were quiet mid afternoon. I stumbled across Kenzan @ the GPO last year and was amazed at their roll your own sushi. Now I have wondered if I am the last person in Melbourne to discover this (apart from E who didn’t even know this little laneway of eateries was here) and if it is available elsewhere.

The vegetarian sushi fillings are fairly standard – carrot, cucumber, mushroom and avocado. But when I buy sushi at most places it has been rolled for sometime and the nori sheets around the rice have softened. The Kenzan sushi is sold in a funny packaging which keeps the rice and nori separate so you actually roll the nori around the rice cylinder just before you eat it. The crispness of the nori against the soft rice is a pleasing meeting of textures.

These are not sushi to take away and munch on the run. It is best to stop at the simple stools and tables set up in the laneway – where vehicles once travelled according to signs on the GPO’s stone walls – and concentrate on assembling your sushi. The wrapper includes instructions which are welcome when faced with layer upon layer of plastic. Too much packaging to be environmentally friendly which is a shame given the delicious results.

I also had a salad of radish, avocado, carrot, cucumber, lettuce, wakame, tomato and broccoli. A lovely selection of fresh vegetables but next time I wouldn’t bother with the dressing which was bland and much too oily for my liking. And I had a bottle of Emma and Tom’s Kamarama juice. A much healthier and more interesting snack than the cake which we had intended to find.

Kenzan @the GPO
Shop 28G
350 Bourke St
Melbourne 3000
Phone: 03 96637767

WTSIM ... Chili and Cornbread

I have made many chilli non carnes in my lifetime but this blog has got me out of a rut and trying different recipes. My favourite discovery is the addition of cocoa for the dark slightly sweet and bitter edge. But I have long wanted to try the lager chilli and jalapeno butternut cornbread that Cassie seems to enjoy regularly on Veggie Meal Plans. I don’t drink a lot of beer but I love it in a stew or a bread.

This chilli non carne recipe included lager and cocoa so I knew I’d love it as much as Wendy. I followed the recipe pretty much but added more vegetables. I omitted the chilli powder but because this was my chance to use the cute but fiery red chilli peppers that my friend Penny gave me. The chilli non carne was an excellent combination of fragrance, flavours and heat.

Chili and cornbread is a classic and comforting combination. I loved the idea of Cassie’s cornbread with pumpkin and oats. It seemed like the perfect way to use up my leftover egg from glazing my pot pies. Egg is a necessary evil for me. I like the effect it has but I hate leftovers. I dislike the omelettes, scrambles and other ways people seem to use up eggs. I avoid recipes that use only an egg white or an egg yolk because I then have to work out ways to use the other half. If I was more organised I would freeze them like Haalo and use them for elegant plum friands.

So imagine my disappointment to re-read the recipe at lunchtime and remember that Cassie is vegan. Then I got home and found E had used all the milk this morning (I know it is not vegan but at least it feels an easy swap with soy milk). So I used the rest of the buttermilk and my leftover egg. But I loved this bread so much that I will try it vegan some time. It is moist and full of flavour. And the recipe made me think of some cultural differences that intrigue me in blogging apart from the term chili.

As I have discussed before, when I lived in the UK, pumpkins were as scarce as hen’s teeth. Now I have noticed that in America so many people seem to use pureed pumpkin from a can. I don’t know if you can even buy it in a can here in Australia but there are always large wedges for sale in any market or supermarket. I have found that it is quite easy to cut it into small chunks, put it in the microwave a few minutes in a plastic container and use a fork to mash it up. So simple it makes me wonder why it needs to come in a can. But I recently saw Ashley saying she wished for a pumpkin recipe that uses a whole can when baking her wonderful pumpkin pecan raisin muffins. Yet there are so many uses for pumpkin. It is excellent in chocolate cakes, scones or stews. I had a little of mine leftover from the bread and remembered a friend’s mother had told him that pumpkin will thicken a stew so I put my leftover in the chilli non carne.

The other cultural difference that made me curious was Cassie putting a bottle of lager in her recipe. (Actually she called for 2 but I halved the recipe.) How big is a bottle? Does she mean a stubby (375ml) or a long neck (750ml). I have assumed the former but I did wonder what is standard for a bottle of lager in America. I used one of our old-school and misleadingly titled Melbourne lagers that I drank too much as a student – Victoria Bitter. According to Wikipedia it has the highest market share of all beer sold in Australia but I don't drink it often these days. It does however make an excellent chilli non carne.

I am sure that Jeanne at Cook Sister will appreciate this fine chilli non carne. She is hosting this month’s Waiter There’s Something in My … Pulses and is welcoming all recipes with beans, lentils, chickpeas and legumes of all varieties.

Chili non Carne with Lager
(adapted from Veggie Meal Plans)
Serves 4-5

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large onions, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
1 large red capsicum, chopped
4-5 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
2 small red chillis, with seeds, finely chopped (or to taste)
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 tablespoon cocoa powder
1 cinnamon sticks, about 3 1/2 inches
1 teaspoons oregano
2 x 400g tins of chopped tomatoes
2 x 400g tins of kidney beans, drained
1-2 cups pumpkin, peeled and chopped
2 field mushrooms, chopped
1 zucchini, chopped
1 stubby (375ml) of lager

Heat oil in a stockpot over medium heat. Add onions, carrots and peppers and cook until softened. Stir in garlic and chillis and cook for 1 minute. Add spices and stir (I did this off the heat). Add tomatoes and lager and bring to the boil. Add beans and remaining vegetables. Bring to the boil, cover and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove and discard cinnamon stick. Simmer, uncovered, approximately 10 minutes, or until chili is to desired thickness. Season.

Pumpkin Cornbread
(adapted from Veggie Meal Plans)

1/2 cup polenta
1/2 cup plain wholemeal flour
1/2 cup oatmeal
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1 tbsp nutritional yeast flakes
1 tablespoon lemon juice (I used half a small lemon)
1 cup (less 1 tbsp) soy milk (I used 150ml buttermilk and an egg)
1 tablespoon oil
1 tablespoon agave nectar or honey
1/2 cup cooked, mashed pumpkin

Preheat oven to 190 C. Grease and line a loaf tin.

If using soy milk, place tablespoon of lemon juice in a measuring jug and add enough soy milk to make up one cup. Leave for 5-10 minutes to thicken. Then add oil, agave and pumpkin. If using buttermilk and egg, mix with lemon juice, oil, agave and pumpkin.

Place dry ingredients in a medium mixing bowl and mix. Add wet ingredients and stir til just combined. Spoon batter into prepared loaf tin and bake for 25-35 minutes or until a skewer comes out clean. Sit a few minutes and then turn onto a wire rack to cool.

On the stereo:
The Best of: Don McLean

Revolutionary Pot Pies

There have been whispers of cupcakes taking over the world but it seems they wont do so without a fight. Ann and Karyn have declared war on cupcakes with the Mini Pie Revolution. These ladies are serious. They have written a manifesto and are storming the barricades. Each month they hold an event where bloggers make mini pies and yell ‘Vive La Revolution!’ (If you check the banner picture on the website, you might be forgiven for thinking these mini pies are then used in place of cannon balls to be shot at the cupcake makers!)

I have wanted to join in but me and pastry don’t get on very well. Scrunching pastry in a ball is more my scene than rolling it out. I don’t think I have one proper pastry recipe on my blog. You would think I have never made pastry before. I have and I will again but it really is not my thing.

This month the mini pie ladies have called for mini pot pies. I felt inspired to try a Farmhouse Pie recipe that my housemate Will used to make. I have tried it before and failed miserably. In fact, I have even written on the recipe to suggest that I make the filling and serving it with a baked sheet of puff pastry! But I felt that if I did it in a ramekin with just a top then it just might work. I went to the freezer and found my packet of puff pastry had sat there so long it had gone off! I really am not a pastry person.

I bought more puff pastry, I made the pies, and then I re-read the guidelines. It said that these pies were to be made from scratch. They want me to make my own pastry? Too late for that. It is just like reading the recipe properly after I have made dinner (which I have been known to do – and to prove it I just realised I forgot to add the stock powder to the water when making these pies - oops).

I hope Ann and Karyn will appreciate my efforts and realise it is a big step for me to even make a proper pastry pie and will accept my humble pie to encourage me to make better (if not bigger) pies.

E and I really enjoyed our pies anyway. The weather has suddenly gone so cool that we turned the heater on tonight. Perfect for pies. This is a creamy pie that Will adapted from a Farmhouse Chicken Pie recipe. The tempeh tastes great in it but 'Farmhouse Tempeh Pie' doesn’t have the same ring to it. Have you ever been to a farm and seeing little tempehs running in the yard? The ramekins made doing the pastry so much easier and I had fun with some heart-shaped cutters that I bought in Darwin last month.

Serving them in ramekins meant that it was like being in a pub in Scotland where you get a pie or lasagne cooked in a little dish on a plate with chips and vegies. I couldn’t resist doing chips and vegies for a laugh. It suited me, as I am trying to clear some of the lurkers from my freezer (the chips were hiding in the back with the pastry!). But to eat it, we scraped the pies from the ramekins as I have never understood how you are meant to eat from a little dish with a knife and fork. But when faced with pastry, E’s love of tomato sauce makes sense. And despite my aversion to cooking with pastry, I can easily understand why pies have long been good hearty winter fare.

Will’s Mini Farmhouse Pies
Serves 4

1 tsp oil, or more
1½ cup (225g) tempeh
60g butter or margarine
125g fresh field mushrooms, sliced
2 tbsp plain flour
½ cup vegie stock
¼ cup cream
¼ cup dry white wine
salt and pepper
½ cup sliced red capsicum
1 cup frozen peas
1 tbsp parmesan cheese or some tasty cheese (optional)
1 tbsp parsley, finely chopped (optional)
1-2 sheets of puff pastry (depending on how much decoration you desire)
beaten egg for glaze

Heat oil in a large frypan and fry tempeh til starting to brown. Set tempeh aside.

While the tempeh is frying, place a ramekin upside down on a square of pastry and use a small sharp knife to trace a circle around the ramekin. Repeat so that you have 4 circles of pastry that will be the pastry lids for the pies. Preheat oven to 210 C.

Melt butter in the large frypan and fry mushrooms for a few minutes til butter is absorbed and the mushrooms are starting to release their juices. Sprinkle with flour and stir for 2-3 minutes over low heat. Add liquids and stir until mixture boils and thickens. Stir in tempeh, capsicum, peas, cheese and parsley. Remove from heat.

Spoon filling into 4 ramekins. I didn’t grease these and the filling didn’t quite reach the top. Place a circle of pastry on top of the filling in each ramekin. Use leftover pastry (or a second sheet) to decorate the pies. Make a hole in the centre of the pastry for the hot air to escape. Brush pastry with beaten egg. (I brushed it and then added pastry decorations and then brushed it again).

Bake in hot oven for 15-20 minutes (the recipe is a bit odd – it says to bake at 205 C for 15 minutes and then at 175 C for 25-20, but I found that 20 minutes at 210 C was enough) until the pastry is golden brown.

On the stereo:
Early Morning Hush: Various Artists

Easter Nut Roast

We went to my mum and dad’s for Easter Sunday lunch. Just a few of my siblings were there (including my sister Christine who was visiting from Dublin and brought her husband Fergal to meet the family after being married for almost a year!). My mum made a roast dinner which we all love.

I took down a nut roast that I had made the previous day. It is one I have made a few times before and was surprised to see it was gluten-free. This meant that my sister Susie could have a slice. Christine and Fergal were also partaking as they are not so keen on roast lamb. It is a good tasty nut roast with lots of vegetables although it lacked the yeasty density of breadcrumbs.

My mum always makes lots of vegetable dishes to have with her roasts. The bigger the occasion, the more side dishes! On Sunday it was a great spread of roast potatoes, roast pumpkin, peas, broccoli, and Susie’s gluten free cauliflower cheese. Nut roasts are sociable dishes because they allow me to share the other dishes which go with my nut roast as well as with roast lamb. I had chutney with the nut roast rather than mint sauce and gravy, but I was glad to able to share the wonderful golden crunchy roast potatoes.

When I first went vegetarian, I told my mother that I would eat the roast vegetable from the dish in which she cooked the meat. It meant that she could always just give me roast vegies if she was making a roast dinner without too much extra effort. I didn’t want my vegetarianism to be an inconvenience to others and I know a roast dinner is one of my mum’s favourite dinners. Often now, she roasts vegies in a separate dish, especially when cooking for a lot of people. Nut roasts have been an easy way for me to have something more substantial than just vegetables. (Although my mum is a one of those cooks who always likes to try out something new so I never feel neglected!)

And with my mum, we are always guaranteed some delicious dessert. For sweets on Sunday she served pavlova, lemon meringue pie and caramel tart. I could not resist a slice of her caramel tart which is a bit like banoffi pie but everyone in my family agrees it is much much better. Maybe one day I will post the recipe.

This nut roast will go to my blog event, A Neb at Nutroast. This is an event where I am encouraging you to make nut roasts, post about them and send them to me by 18 April. If you are interested and/or need advice and ideas, check out this link.

Cheesy Nut Loaf
(from the Australian Women’s Weekly Vegetarian Cooking)
Serves 4-6

1 tbsp oil
1 medium onion, chopped
1 medium green pepper, chopped
1 medium tomato, chopped
1 cup roasted unsalted cashews, ground
1 cup blanched almonds, ground
1 medium carrot, grated
1 cup cooked brown rice (about ⅓ cup uncooked)
¾ cup grated tasty chees
1 egg, lightly beaten

Lightly grease a 14 x 21 cm loaf tin and line with baking paper. Preheat oven to 180 C.

Heat oil in frypan and add onion, pepper and tomato. (I just add them as I chop them.) Fry for 5-10 minutes over medium high heat. The recipe says to fry til pepper is tender but I prefer to fry til most of the tomato juice has evaporated. The recipe also says to cool but I don’t bother.

While the vegetables are frying, place the remainder of the ingredients in a medium-sized mixing bowl. When vegetables are ready, tip into the mixing bowl and mix all ingredients to combine.

Spoon mixture into the prepared tin and use the back of the spoon to smooth top. Bake for about 40 minutes of until lightly browned. (I baked for 60 minutes and then the next day it went in my mum’s oven for another 30 minutes to reheat!)

Serve with tomato sauce, gravy, chutney or any other sauce that takes your fancy (We had the leftovers with pumpkin sauce, roasted cauliflower and broccoli, and chips.)

On the stereo:
Rain Falls in Grey: Radio Massacre International

Polenta Pizza Tart

A desire to try a polenta based pizza, the opportunity to take some for my sister and niece to taste yesterday, and a blog event on gluten free party food, were all inspiration for making a version of the Zucchini Polenta Tart from Chocolate and Zucchini.

A trip to the supermarket to buy ingredients didn’t bode well. Riding my bike home my zucchini was in a calico bag which somehow got mashed in the spokes of my bike so some zucchini had to be discarded. (see the photo!). Together with cracking the lid of my food processor and pulling apart a springform cake tin recently, it is beginning to look like a trail of destruction. Happily, the tart overcame all obstacles.

Clotilde called it a Zucchini Polenta Tart because it really only had zucchini and a little parmesan on it. I desired her crispy base but needed more than one vegetable, because I had envisaged that mine would be more pizza than tart. Some time ago I had found a recipe for Veganmania’s Polenta Pizza. Like a magpie, I used bits of both recipes as well as my style of pizza-making.

I served it straight out of the oven, accompanied by leftover Autumnal Roast Vegetable Salad. The base was crisp outside and oozy inside but not terribly tasty. When I tasted it after it had sat for some time I could taste the flavours in the polenta base more. I recently came across some advice on salt which noted that high heat dulls the taste buds, so food should be cooled before tasting. But the intense flavourings of the toppings were excellent.

I enjoyed the base but I am not sure I would claim it tastes like a regular bready pizza base. But if I did this again with pizza in mind, I would make less polenta (probably 1 cup like Veganmania, not 1½ cups like Clotilde) to make a thinner base. I was surprised at how long it took to bake. It is probably no longer than making a yeast pizza base from scratch, but a lot slower than a pre-made pizza base. Veganmania’s recipe instructed to spread the polenta base into a pizza pan, cool 10 minutes, add toppings, bake 20 minutes and put it under the griller (broiler) for 10 minutes. I would be interested to try following this style of preparation but I would probably leave it in the oven a bit longer. I would also be interested to try it with my usual pizza toppings (tomato sauce, capsicum, mushrooms, olives, cheese).

I took the leftovers to my parents’ yesterday, for my gluten free sister and niece to sample. When I showed it to my little niece, Grace, she immediately said, ‘I don’t like it’. (I don’t think she has tasted pizza before.) I shrugged and had a small piece myself. Grace then decided to taste a piece and declared that she did like it after all. Small kids are so fickle. I left before my sister Susie tasted it so I am not sure what she thought.

Lastly, I am sending this to Linda from Make Life Sweeter who is hosting an event with the wonderful title Go Ahead Honey, it’s Gluten Free. This month’s theme is Birthday Baking for Children. Pizza is perfect party food that most kids love, and would particularly please kids like Grace who do not have much desire for sweet baking.

Polenta Pizza Tart
(adapted from Chocolate and Zucchini and Veganmania)

- 250 g polenta (about 1½ cups)
- 3¾ cups vegetarian stock
- 2 tbsp chives or other fresh herbs (optional)
- sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
- 600g zucchini
- 150g yellow squash (not pumpkin)
- olive oil
- 1 bulb garlic, unpeeled
- 80g semi-sun-dried tomatoes
- ¼ cup sliced black olives
- two handfuls of grated tasty cheese*

Soak the polenta in 1½ cups water. While it is soaking, bring 3¾ stock to the boil in a medium saucepan. Gradually add the polenta and water mixture and whisk as it is added. Stir constantly over low heat for 7-10 minutes until it is thickened. (Alternatively, follow the instructions on your packet – I followed Veganmania’s instructions because my packet said to stir 1 cup polenta in 1 cup water for 30 minutes!). Place some on a spoon to cool a little and taste before adding seasoning as desired.

Preheat the oven to 220°C (430°F). Line a 25cm spring form cake tin with baking paper. Spread the polenta into the tin. Place in the oven for 25-45 minutes til a golden crust has formed. (Clotilde put her in 15 minutes and then took the rim off the spring form tin and cooked an additional 10 minutes to crisp the sides. I had mine in for 25 minutes and then forgot about it when the timer went off and so I found the sides were crisp without taking the rim off.)

While the polenta cooks, prepare the vegetables. Slice the very tops of the garlic bulb off and wrap in foil. Place in the oven for 30-40 minutes until the garlic is soft and sweet. Trim and thinly slice the zucchini and squash. (If squash is hard to find just omit and use a little more zucchini – I like the contrast of the yellow skin.) Place in a baking tray (I lined mine with baking paper) and toss in a little olive oil. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt and a generous grind of pepper (you may want to omit pepper if making for kids). Roast in middle shelf of the oven for about 30-45 minutes, stirring once or twice, until soft and wilting but not falling apart.

When the top and sides of the polenta are crisp, turn out onto a pizza tray or a baking sheet and return to the over for 15-25 minutes to crisp the bottom (which will now be the top).

By now the garlic should be roasted. Cool a little and squeeze garlic bulbs from the skin. Chop finely. Also chop the sun-dried tomatoes. When the polenta is crisp all over, remove from oven and spread evenly with garlic and sun-dried tomatoes. Pile the zucchini over the top. Scatter the olives on the pizza and sprinkle with cheese. Return into the oven for about ten – twenty minutes or until the cheese is golden brown. Serve warm, at room temperature or cold.

* To make this dish vegan, just omit the grated cheese and sprinkle nutritional yeast over the garlic and sun-dried tomatoes.

On the stereo:
DyanMU – enrici coniglio and elisa marzorati

Autumnal Bread and Salad

At the start of the week it was too hot to bake soda bread. The end of the week finds the weather too cold and I have had to put on the heater to make sure the bread has a warm place to rise. That’s why we say Melbourne has four seasons in one day!

It brings to mind a fine Australian poem that most older Australians would have read at school. I have copied the choice bits to give you a taster but I encourage you to check out the full poem here because it is such a delight.

Excerpt from Said Hanrahan
by John O'Brien (1878-1952)

"We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan,
In accents most forlorn,
Outside the church, ere Mass began,
One frosty Sunday morn.

…….

And so around the chorus ran
"It's keepin' dry, no doubt."
"We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan,
"Before the year is out."

……

In God's good time down came the rain;
And all the afternoon
On iron roof and window-pane
It drummed a homely tune.

And through the night it pattered still,
And lightsome, gladsome elves
On dripping spout and window-sill
Kept talking to themselves.

…….

And every creek a banker ran,
And dams filled overtop;
"We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan,
"If this rain doesn't stop."

And stop it did, in God's good time;
And spring came in to fold
A mantle o'er the hills sublime
Of green and pink and gold.

……

While round the church in clothes genteel
Discoursed the men of mark,
And each man squatted on his heel,
And chewed his piece of bark.

"There'll be bush-fires for sure, me man,
There will, without a doubt;
We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan,
"Before the year is out."

Now back to last night’s dinner! When I was planning my hot cross buns, I decided I would make it a bread baking day. So I had a search for breads that took my fancy and decided on a Cheese and Onion Bread. E and I agreed it was very British. When I lived in Scotland, for a time one of my favourite lunchtime snacks was Gregg’s cheese and onion pasties, whereas E loved Walkers cheese and onion crisps.

I have been eyeing off Veganomicon in the bookstores and swithering over whether to purchase it. I am very tempted but also am mindful that I haven’t cooked much from Isa Chandra Moskowitz’s other cookbook, Vegan with a Vengeance which I have owned for about a year. So my challenge is to try and cook more VwaV recipes and if I do, then I can justify buying Veganomicon. Meanwhile, I still find inspiration in bookstores, I am sorry to say.

There is a recipe in Veganomicon, called Autumnal Root Vegetable Salad with Maple Fig Dressing (if I remember the title rightly). It features roasted purple potatoes, beetroots and orange sweet potato. I couldn’t resist the dazzling colours. Isa uses dried figs in her salad but I have been keen to find ways to eat fresh figs that seem to be everywhere right now. Not having the book with me, I turned to VwaV and found a maple glaze for inspiration. Finally, I destroyed its vegan credibility by topping it with a yoghurt sauce that was flavoured with Holler’s gorgeous pea pesto.

Dinner was delicious. My biggest disappointment was the purple congo potatoes which did not roast well. They tasted floury rather than fluffy. But I did take great pleasure from the darkness of the roasted vegetables which looked superb against the green leaves, the deep pink of the figs and the pale dressing. E didn’t like the figs but I thought their sweetness tasted fantastic with the yoghurt sauce and was a nice foil for the intensity of the roasted vegies. The bread was light and soft but I served it warm - unfortunately the deep cheesy flavour did not show until the bread cooled down. But I highly recommend this dinner for autumnal days when the nights are growing darker and colder.

Cheese and Onion Bread
(from The Complete Book of Bread and Bread Machines)

1 onion, finely chopped
45g/3½ tbp butter
450 g/4 cups unbleached white bread flour*
7g sachet dried yeast
5ml/1 tsp mustard powder
175g/1½ cups grated mature (sharp) Cheddar cheese
Salt and ground black pepper
150ml/⅔ cup lukewarm water
150ml/⅔ cup lukewarm milk

* Those with Australian measuring cups beware! When I made the hot cross buns, 4 cups of flour was meant to equal 600g of flour so I am wondering if I should have used less flour in this recipe. See Susan at Wild Yeast on the advantages of weighing over cup measures.

Melt half the butter in a frypan and fry onions til golden. This took me about 15-20 minutes over a low heat. Cool.

Place flour, yeast, mustard powder, seasoning and ⅔ of the cheese in a large bowl and mix. Make a well in the centre and add the milk and water. Mix to a soft dough and turn out onto a lightly floured board (you wont need much more in the way of flour for kneading this dough). Knead about 10 minutes til smooth and elastic.

Place dough in a lightly oiled bowl and turn to coat with oil. Cover with clingwrap and leave in a warm place for about 45-60 minutes until dough has doubled in size.

Punch down the dough to release the air and then knead for a few minutes til smooth. The recipe said to make 20 small balls and place them in two rows in a 25 x 10cm bread tin. I don’t have a bread tin so I made 8 balls and placed them together in a nice flower shape on a pizza tray. Cover with clingwrap and leave in a warm place til rise for 45 minutes. Meanwhile preheat oven to 190 C.

Melt remaining butter and use to brush dough. Sprinkle with remaining cheese and onion. Bake for 40-45 minutes or until golden brown (mine took a little less time). Cool on a wire rack

Autumnal Roasted Vegetable and Fig Salad
(inspired by Isa Chandra Moskowitz)
Serves 4

4 potatoes, cut in wedges (preferably not purple congo)
1 large sweet potato, peeled and cut in wedges
2 medium beetroots, peeled and cut in wedges
1-2 tbsp maple syrup
1 tsp seeded mustard
4 cloves garlic, chopped
Drizzle of olive oil
Good pinch salt
Generous grind of black pepper
2 handfuls of baby spinach leaves
4 figs, quartered

Yoghurt dressing:
½ cup plain yoghurt
2 tbsp pea pesto or 1 tbsp any other pesto (if you don’t have pesto you could use 1 tbsp lemon juice and 1 clove crushed garlic)

Place potatoes, sweet potatoes, beetroot, maple syrup, mustard and garlic in a large roasting tray. Drizzle with olive oil and mix well. Season to taste. Roast for 1½ hours at 200 C or until vegetables are soft.

To make yoghurt dressing mix ingredients. I used pea pesto but lots of other flavours would work here, even just yoghurt by itself or (if you want to be true to Isa’s vegan intent), a nice vinaigrette with maple syrup and mustard (because the flavours don’t come through very strongly in the roasted vegies).

To serve, place spinach leaves on a plate. Arrange roasted vegetables on the spinach, then top with figs and drizzle with dressing. (NB: Isa suggested arranging the vegetables in circles of different colours).

On stereo:
Talking with the Taxman about Poetry: Billy Bragg

BBD #08 Hot Cross Buns

At this time of year I can’t help but remember Sister Mary in our religion classes telling us that Christmas is an easy celebration because everyone loves a newborn baby but Easter is more difficult because it is about death and mystery. It is a lot harder to understand and celebrate.

It is Good Friday today. Shops, schools and businesses have closed their doors. Holiday makers have left town. The streets are quiet. All you will find is the silence and emptiness reminiscent of the bereft feeling after a loved one departs. Best to stay at home and bake hot cross buns. That is what I have done the last few years, including this one.

My mum always baked hot cross buns for Good Friday when I was a child. She baked a lot of bread and I loved helping her. But it was the hot cross buns that were special. The cross is symbolic of Jesus dying on the cross which we were told showed how much God loves us. We learnt that it is the holiest and darkest day on the church calendar. Even then, I think we understood that food was connected to religion and culture. My mum still bakes with her grandchildren. When I rang today she was over to visit my nieces with hot cross bun mixture.

Baking bread with yeast is something I don’t do as often as I would like, but it is easier thanks to the time helping my mum as a child. My mum has baked enough bread to be quite comfortable with yeast. She prefers fresh yeast so she would show us how the cake of yeast became runny and gooey when mixed with sugar. We would have a go at kneading the dough before she did it properly. She made us feel the dough to check how the texture changed to resemble an ear lobe. She told us that the dough was ready when we stuck fingers in it and it didn’t bounce back into shape. There were lots of little finger marks in her risen dough! Then she would cut the dough into small pieces and we would help to roll them into buns.

We weren’t allowed to eat hot cross buns until close to Easter. So unfair, I would tell my parents. The hot cross buns seem to have hit the shops this year straight after Christmas but we only started having them this week. Old habits die hard!

On Good Friday my mum would have hot cross buns warming in the oven. We called them HCBs. She would put out a plate of buttered halves. Top or bottom? I loved the tops on my mum’s hot cross buns. The crosses were thick and chewy. The buns were sweet and spicy, crisp outside and fluffy inside.

Now that I make my own hot cross buns, I remember doing it with my mum. A bowl sitting on the table filled with rising dough is reminiscent of her kitchen (although she didn’t have a cat on a computer beside it). I make thick chewy crosses just like she used to. The shop buns have thin crosses but they look mechanical and processed. Thick crosses are genuine and made with love. The smell of buns baking, the stickiness of the glaze and the fantastic taste of fresh hot buttered buns all fill me with a nostalgic glow. I wont be going to church this year but the hot cross buns are still imbued with meaning. The crosses remind me of my heritage.

I am sending this to Susan at Wild Yeast who is hosting this month's Bread Baking Day which was founded by Zorra. March's BBD is all about spring holiday bread baking traditions. Well this is sort of mine except it is really an autumn holiday tradition down under :-)

Hot Cross Buns
Makes 15-16 buns

2 x 7g dried yeast (or 30g fresh yeast)
300ml milk, warmed
4 cups (600g) plain flour
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp mixed spice
90g butter, chopped
1½ cups (285g) mixed dried fruit (or sultanas)
¼ cup (55g) castor sugar
1 egg (optional)

Crosses:
1 cup (150g) plain flour
8-10 tbsp water

Glaze:
½ cup (125g) water
¼ cup (55g) castor sugar
1 tsp mixed spice

Place milk in a jug and sprinkle yeast over it. Stand 5 minutes til frothy (mine doesn’t really go very frothy – just a bit of swelling at the sides but the buns rise anyway).

Place flour and spices in the bowl and rub in butter til mixture resembles breadcrumbs. You could do it in the blender but it is quite a relaxing activity. Stir in fruit and sugar.

Whisk egg into milk and yeast mixture. Make a well in the flour mixture and pour in the milk mixture. Mix to a soft dough. Tip onto a lightly floured board. (This is a dough that hardly needs any flour.) Knead for approximately 10 minutes until smooth and elastic (this is the moment it should feel like an ear lobe). Use the heel of your hand to knead and put some good rocking music on the stereo and enjoy the rhythm.

Lightly oil a large bowl. I rub the bowl I mixed the dough in to remove as much of the dough and then spray it with oil – or you could put a little oil in and rub it around the bowl with your fingers or a brush. Turn the dough in the bowl so it is covered with oil. Cover with cling wrap. Stand in a warm place til doubled in size – this should take about 45 minutes. I turn on the heater to make sure the house is warm enough (thankfully the heatwave is over).

Punch down the dough – this is the fun bit! Knead a few minutes til the dough is smooth. Divide into 15 or 16 pieces and knead each bun til smooth. Arrange close together on a tray and cover with a damp teatowel. Stand in a warm place til doubled in size – this should take about 40 minutes.

About 10-15 minutes before the buns have risen, grease a baking tray (I use a swiss roll tin), preheat the oven (220 C) and prepare the cross mixture. To make the cross mixture, mix the flour and water in a small bowl til it form a paste.

Note: I have doubled the cross ingredients because I like thick crosses. I just create a paper piping bag when I need it and don’t use a nozzle but just snip the thickness that I want to pipe from the bottom of the bag. There is nothing worse than not having enough so I make too much so I can refill if needed. Any piping equipment will do but it is quite a thick mixture so I wouldn’t advise a really thin nozzle. Don’t worry that this mixture is tasteless. Once the glaze goes on at the end it tastes great.

Once the crosses are piped, put buns in the oven at 220 C for 10 minutes. Then reduce to 200 C and bake a further 10 minutes or until buns are browned and hollow when tapped.

About 10 minutes before the buns are cooked, prepare the glaze. To make the glaze, place all ingredients in a small saucepan. Stir to combine and bring to the boil. Simmer for 1-2 minutes without stirring.

When the buns come out of the oven turn out onto a teatowel-covered wire rack. (My recipe says to turn on to rack after glazing but I think it is easier when not sticky.) Brush glaze on to buns a few times to ensure they have a thick coating. You will have more glaze than you need so be quite generous with the glaze.

Serve hot from the oven with melted butter. To reheat, my favourite way is to place in 180 C oven for 5-7 minutes.

On the Stereo:
Garbage: Garbage

St Patrick, Soup and a Shamrock

May the Irish hills caress you.
May her lakes and rivers bless you.
May the luck of the Irish enfold you.
May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.
~Irish Blessing

I love celebrating St Patrick’s Day. It has always been a great excuse to eat and wear green. But it is more than that to me. It is part of my heritage that I can proudly claim.

I have many Irish ancestors, especially on my mother’s side. I was named after my maternal great grandmother whose parents migrated to Australia from Ireland. I went to a high school run by the Brigidine nuns and we learnt about hedge schools in Ireland that were run to educate the population in spite of the English. Each year on 17 March we were taught about St Patrick bringing Christianity to Ireland. As a university student I discovered the joys of green beer on St Patrick’s Day. It made me very happy until I learnt that it was made by putting some food dye in the beer and is not popular in Ireland.

But I still enjoyed the excuse to eat green and hold green dinner parties. We had green soup, green lasagne and an amazing green cake with a figure of St Pat driving the snakes into the sea. (Creative credits to my house mate Yarrow.) Then my brother and sister moved to Ireland and I would hear their tales of the grand green celebrations in Dublin each year. If you want to see how creative people can be with a bit of food dye, check out Susan’s shamrock shake, Glenna’s green bread, Cakespy’s green soda bread and Cakelaw’s green cupcakes.

This year, rather than a burning desire to celebrate with green food, I wanted to make a soup that I came across last year which was called St Patrick’s Soup. For month I planned to make it on 17 March to celebrate St Paddy’s feast day. As the day drew closer I thought that the perfect accompaniment would be soda bread. But the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

I didn’t count on the heat wave that left me with little energy for cooking, especially anything that required turning on the oven. Then I spoke to my mother who said she was confused about when St Patrick’s Day was this year. According to this article the Catholic Church has declared that St Paddy’s day is to be held on Friday 14 March this year because Holy Week is too sacred for such celebrations. My mum also told me that Easter occurs on the first moon after the solstice, and this year it is especially early because the full moon occurs on the solstice – apparently it wont happen again in our lifetimes so we will not have to face this quandary again.

I will never understand the mysterious ways of the Church! But I was actually pleased that I had made a green pie on this year’s temporary St Patrick’s Day. The Church’s decision freed me from a need to adhere strictly to dates and so I set about making my St Patrick’s Day meal on 18 March. (Close enough for jazz!)

My St Patrick’s Day meal was fine hearty stodge that one of my friends would call Bog Irish. The soup is quite simple but smells wonderful with the pinch of cloves. It is thick and porridgey with lots of oats and the sorts of vegetables you might find growing in those green Irish fields. It is truly nutritious and comforting. The sweet potato version of soda bread doesn’t seem so Irish but it is my favourite soda bread recipe. It has a pleasing orange tinge, great flavour and is wonderfully moist.

A challenge presented itself when I got home around 7 and read the instructions and remembered that the bread requires roasting the sweet potato for 45-60 minutes before you start baking. (I might have done it the day before if it wasn’t the hottest March night on record with a minimum temperature of 27 C.) Of all the times I have made this recipe, I think I might have been organised enough to roast the sweet potato only once and it did make a difference but if you aren’t organised a quick bit of microwaving or steaming will still taste great. I also had a good laugh at the requirement to cool the soup before blending. As if I had the time or the patience!

My timing was all out, I was tired and I faced more disaster after I put the bread in the oven. It was only then that I discovered that in my haste I had added plain flour rather than self-raising flour when rushing to refill my flour containers. Luckily the bicarb of soda worked its magic all on its pat malone and the bread still was delicious.

I made the bread look more Irish by scoring the outline of a shamrock with a knife. I think we all know that St Patrick taught the Irish pagans about the mystery of the Holy Trinity by using the shamrock to explain three in one. But I have been thinking that maybe if he was a cook he might have used a recipe to explain how individual ingredients come together into one delicious dish.

St Patrick’s Soup
(from The Vegetarian Society)
Serves 4-6

50g/2oz butter or vegan margarine
1 small onion, chopped
225g/8oz (2 fist sized) potatoes, peeled and diced
225g/8 oz (2 medium) carrots, peeled and diced
225g/8oz mushrooms, sliced
225g/8 oz green cabbage, chopped
pinch ground cloves
1 litre/ 1 ¾ pints vegetable stock
100g/4oz oatmeal
Salt and pepper to taste
Cream or soya cream to swirl (optional)

1. Melt the butter or margarine in a large stockpot. Add the onions, potatoes and carrots and fry gently for about 5 minutes until soft. Add the mushrooms, cabbage and ground cloves and cook a further 5 minutes.

2. Add the vegetable stock and oatmeal. Bring to the boil, then cover and simmer for about 20 minutes. Make sure you stir occasionally as the mixture will thicken as it cooks and stick to the bottom of the saucepan.

3. Puree with a hand held blender until the soup is smooth. (If you prefer a slightly chunky soup, just puree half the mixture.) Season to taste. Serve with a swirl of cream if desired.

Sweet Potato Soda Bread

1 medium kumara (approximately 1 cup), scrubbed
2 cups plain flour (I used 1 cup white and 1 cup wholemeal)
1 cup self-raising flour
1 tsp bicarbonate soda
½ tsp salt
½ tsp sugar
¾ tsp finely grated nutmeg
1 tbsp butter
300ml buttermilk
1 egg, lightly beaten
2 tbsp finely chopped chives
Flour for dusting

Preheat oven to 180 C. Bake kumara whole for 45-60 minutes. (Alternatively, if time does not permit, microwave or steam kumara in thick slices til soft.) Cool slightly, peel and mash – a fork will do the trick. Measure one cup and set aside. If you have leftovers it tastes great in a sandwich with cheese and chutney.

Sift flours, bicarb, salt, sugar and nutmeg (if you have the time and inclination). Rub the butter in with your fingertips til the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. (You can do this in the blender but I find this quite a relaxing activity to do the traditional way.)

Use a fork or whisk to mix buttermilk and egg in a separate bowl. Add sweet potato and chives and mix well. Make a well in the flour mixture and pour in buttermilk mixture. Mix til dough becomes smooth but do not overmix. Towards the end of the mixing I find it helpful to use my hands and I give a quick knead on a floured board.

Form dough into a flattish round of about 4 inches thick and place on a lightly floured baking tray. Use a blunt knife to score lines to make 6-8 wedges or make the outline of a shamrock if you want to make it feel a bit more Irish. Lightly dust with flour.

Bake approximately 45 minutes or until a skewer comes out clean. Serve warm with soup. Will last a few days, although you will probably want to gobble it all up immediately. Is excellent with promite or cheese and chutney.

On the Stereo:
Cara Dillon: Cara Dillon

HotM #13 Spring Chocolate Brownies

Sometimes it feels like in Australia we are truly in the land of topsy turvy! The Canadians complain of snow and we are suffering a heat wave, the Brits celebrate a winter solstice and we are celebrating our summer solstice, the Americans get excited about Spring and here it is Autumn!

So spare a thought for us Australians this Easter Sunday as you celebrate new life and new hope that spring brings. We are celebrating this holy day that Blackadder might describe as being as Springy as a Spring day that is very Springy (or maybe that is just what students who have watched too much Blackadder might say)! But we celebrate as the days draw in, the weather gets colder, and we watch the leaves fall from the trees. No wonder I get confused!

I write this as Easter approaches and a few blog events are asking us to think about Easter goodies. I am very fond of the Heart of the Matter event which turns one year old this month! That is a year of being challenged to think about heart healthy food. This month Ilva of Lucilian Delights is hosting and the theme is Party Food.

Now when it comes to parties, I think decadence and indulgence. I want people to enjoy themselves. But who said you can’t eat healthy and have fun. Just because guests are watching their weight or on restricted diets doesn’t mean they can’t join in the merriment. Party food for me usually involves dry biscuits, dips and crudités, finger food, maybe mini-muffins or grubs and definitely a chocolate cake. Lots of options. But party food at Easter time really demands chocolate! Healthy and chocolate aren’t great mates in most sentences.

Then I remembered a recipe I had been keen to try for some time. It is called Spring Chocolate Brownies. It suits my schizophrenic attitudes. I want to celebrate the spring of new life but to prepare for winter, I want to eat chocolate and still be healthy, I want to have my cake and eat it too! Impossible, you say! But I think these brownies make a good compromise. Sitting on the couch in front of old BBC series Century Falls and eating warm fudgy gooey brownies straight from the oven, the answer seemed to be Yes!

They are vegan, sugarless, full of fruit and still manage to ooze chocolate decadence. Too good to be true? I did a tedious calculation to prove to myself that they aren’t as bad as most. My dodgy result told me that if I have 16 pieces, each will contain approximately 642 kj and 7.24 g of fat. Not bad but not quite virtuous. I did amend the recipe slightly by omitting to spread melted chocolate on top and opting instead to add some choc bits and dried blueberries. (Apologies for the photos - it is so fresh out of the oven I haven't even got it on a plate yet.)

So if you must have chocolate (and there aren’t many who don’t), this is a comparatively healthy recipe. It is light enough for spring, dense enough for autumn and guaranteed to please everyone at a party!

Spring Chocolate Brownies
(adapted from The Vegetarian Society)
Makes 16- 20 squares

225g/8oz dates (I used 190g)
100g/4oz margarine
60g/21/2 oz (generous ⅓ cup) wholemeal flour
2 tsp baking powder
45ml/3 tablespoons cocoa powder, sieved (I used Dutch cocoa)
1 very ripe banana mashed
75g/3oz pecans or walnuts, roughly chopped (I used 50g)
½ cup dried blueberries
⅓ cup dark chocolate choc chips
5ml/1teaspoon vanilla essence (optional – I forgot)

- Preheat the oven to 180°C.
- Place dates in a small saucepan and fill with just enough water to cover them. Cook over low to medium heat til pulpy (about 5 minutes). Puree and cool a little.
- Cream dates and margarine (or if you are very impatient like me and the dates are still quite warm you are just melting the margarine in the date puree).
- Stir in flour, baking powder and cocoa, Then add banana, blueberries, choc chips, nuts, and vanilla essence.
- Spoon mixture into a 7 inch square pan and bake 20-25 minutes. I used a 6 inch square pan and had to bake the brownie for 45 minutes and it still was very soft and a little on the gooey side in the centre. Perhaps my 20cm round cake tin might have been better. Use a skewer to check when cooked but beware melted choc chips!

On the Stereo:
The Sound of White: Missy Higgins

Mulligatawny and dubious traditions

This month Holler is hosting the No Croutons Required blog event that she runs with Lisa. For March, they have asked bloggers to make a spicy soup. Not being a chilli fiend, my mind initially drew a blank. But then I couldn’t open a cookbook without spicy soups jumping out at me – tortilla soup, couscous dumplings in spicy tomato soup, spicy peanut soup, and a pumpkin, corn & wild rice chowder. So many great recipes out there!

But the soup that really captured my imagination was the vegetarian mulligatawny which Gluten Free Goddess, Karina, made. Why? Because I have only come across it before as a meat soup and I wanted to taste it. Because it is the sort of dish I want to make just to be able to roll the name around on my tongue. (Go on, I know you want to say it out loud!) Because Karina’s version was full of vegetables which pleased me.

There was one small problem with Karina’s soup. It seemed to take a lot of flavour from curry powder. My curry powder was bought at the supermarket years ago and I was worried it might not enhance the soup as it should. So I turned to another version of mulligatawny I had found in Cooking with Kurma. I had initially rejected it because it seemed quite watery – one of those soups where you cook up lots of interesting flavours and then discard them (after sieving) in the hope they leave their flavour in the water. But the idea of using Kurma’s spices and Karina’s vegetables appealed. It seemed the best of both worlds.

Once I had decided on making mulligatawny, I had to check on the traditional recipe to see how close my recipe compared. A quick search of the internet convinced me that the traditions were as flimsy as the English Empire’s pretext for colonising India. (Actually I don’t know why they did but colonisation always seemed to be about greed and power which is never a satisfying reason! I will find out later.) Apparently, mulligatawny means pepper water and was eaten by British colonists in the mistaken belief that it was what the locals ate.

I have read that traditional Indian cooking does not really include soups. It would be fascinating to have been there when some Indian was persistently questioned about what soups they ate. I can only imagine that the person who gave the recipe had a good sense of humour and enjoyed much laughter when seeing the Brits with their ‘traditional’ mulligatawny.

After reading about mulligatawny's dubious origins, I felt quite comfortable in making a hamfisted attempt at messing with the recipes. I felt I produced the peppery taste but possibly included more vegetables than is traditional. I added a few vegetables to rescue them from the back of the fridge. I didn't have a muslin cloth to put my spices in so I improvised with a tea infuser - I don't drink tea when it is this hot, so at least it is not just gathering dust. I was quite forgetful as I made it and added the garlic and ginger later than I should have. Then I totally neglected to add lime juice and sugar but I don’t know they would have improved it.

I am happy to report that I was most pleased with my mulligatawny and now curious to try more. It was a delicious subtly-spiced soup with sweet flavours of the spices, the tartness of the apple and a touch of creaminess from the coconut milk. With all those vegetables, and chickpeas too, it must be nutritious as well as vegan and gluten free - something for everybody! I am sure Lisa and Holler will love it.

Vegetarian Mulligatawny
(adapted from Gluten Free Goddess and Cooking with Kurma)
serves 5-6

1 tablespoons light olive oil or vegetable oil
1 medium sweet or yellow onion, peeled, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp finely grated ginger
1 small red chilli, finely chopped
2 carrots, peeled and diced
1 medium sized potato, peeled and diced
1 cup cauliflower florets, chopped
1 small zucchini, diced
2 Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored and diced
1 sweet potato, peeled and diced
2 cups thinly shredded cabbage
1 litre vegetable stock
44og can diced tomatoes
440g can chick peas, drained
4 green cardamom pods
6 cloves
1 tsp peppercorns
1 x 2 inch stick of cinnamon
1 tbsp ghee (I used margarine)
1 tsp brown mustard seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
400g can lite coconut milk
Salt and freshly ground pepper to serve

Heat the olive oil in a large stockpot. Fry the onion for 2-3 minutes over low heat. Add the onion, garlic, ginger, chilli, carrot, potato, zucchini, cauliflower, apples, sweet potato and cabbage and sauté until softened, stirring frequently - approximately 7 to 10 minutes,.

Place cardamom, cloves and pepper in a piece of muslin or in a tea infuser and place in the stockpot. Add cinnamon stick, stock, tomatoes and chick peas. Bring to a boil and reduce heat. Cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are tender, - about 20 to 30 minutes.

In a small frypan melt the ghee over low heat. Add mustard seeds and cumin seeds and fry til they begin to pop.

Remove stick of cinnamon and tea infuser of spices from the stockpot. Discard. Add seeds and coconut milk and stir. Use hand held blender to blend as much as you require. I only blended slightly so there were still lots of chunks but you could blend completely or not at all. Check seasoning. Grind some fresh pepper on the soup for garnish.

On the stereo:
Picaresque – The Decemberists

Café Issus – noisy crowd, good vegies

Saturday found us in the city and hungry. We headed for the bustling Centre Place and were glad to find a table in Issus. It is a place we have frequented on occasion for Saturday morning brunch. As usual E’s problem is that he must choose from many items on the menu while my decision-making is made easier by the few choices available to an egg-phobic vegetarian.

I chose the big vegie brekkie with baked beans instead of eggs. It came with beans, buttery spinach, soft avocado, grilled tomatoes, fried mushrooms, crisp hash browns and sourdough toast. I couldn’t ask for more in a fry-up. I was pleased that the bread was not buttered and had a chewy crust but it could have been a little more substantial. But generally it was a pleasing combination. I also had a huge brandy balloon of freshly squeezed orange juice.

E was less happy with his choice and found the noisy atmosphere too overwhelming. It did seem more crowded than on other visits. The staff were quite busy and it was hard to get their attention, but service was pleasant and we weren’t kept waiting long. I was saddened that they have painted over the green walls and the walls are now orange and brown. I think the chairs have also changed to stools which I am not keen on. But I still like that it is open to the alleyway that is Centre Place and it does a good vegie breakfast.

It does make me wonder if Issus is a victim of the new-found popularity of Melbourne’s laneways or if it was bad luck to visit on such a busy day. More concerning is the changes to the graffiti and art boxes at the end of the lane by Centreway Arcade. They seem to have been boarded up as though the council is trying to discourage any creativity.

After our brunch, we had a browse in some shops and then visited the museum at the magnificant Old Treasury Building. It has beautiful historic interiors of wooden panelled doorways and chandeliers. The museum gave some insight into Melbourne’s history – Aboriginal people, the gold rush, boom and bust, Smellbourne, leisure and a wonderfully recreated 19th Century meeting room. Then there are the vaults in the basement and the recreated living quarters of the caretaker’s family. E loved some of the old gramophone records on display and I loved the panoramic photos of Melbourne from 1862 when the building was completed. If you are after the new, visit Café Issus, but if you want to see some of old Melbourne, I highly recommend this museum.

Café Issus
8 Centre Place
Melbourne City
Ph: (03) 9663 8844

Pie with filo roses

I wanted to make this pie on Thursday night but it was too hot – at 6pm it was still 37 C! We had soup from the freezer instead. It was hot again yesterday – 40 C. Ideally I would just live on salads and burgers or vegie sausages when it is so hot. But I have been wanting to make this pie for ages and had the ingredients. E was pleased because he wants a hot cooked meal every night no matter what the weather – you can take the boy out of Scotland but you can’t take Scotland out of the boy!

First instruction in the recipe was preheat the oven. Gave me a laugh. If I must use the oven in this weather, any inclination towards preheating goes out the window. It makes me remember being 15 years old and moving house. We went from a kitchen with an electric oven to one with a gas oven. My mother was delighted and told me that I could bake any time I wanted now because we didn’t need to preheat the oven. Ever since I have been of the notion that gas ovens don’t really need preheating. I have included preheating in the recipe and often do in other recipes but I don’t always preheat. Especially when it is swelteringly hot.

This pie does have a bit of a summery green feel to it. It is a little like spanakopita but isn’t packed with salty firm fetta, so the spinach and leeks are more of a feature. The filling is quite moist and creamy with the additional nuttiness of cashews, and the fresh flavours of tomatoes and basil.

The best thing about this pie is the pastry. If like me, rolling out pastry makes you want to screw it up in a ball and throw it in the bin, then this is a pie for you. The topping actually does involve screwing up filo pastry in a ball. In my more poetic moments, it reminds me of pastry roses. But the effort is so minimal that you would not work up a sweat. Suits me on a hot day.

Luckily by the time we ate, the cool change had come and we could eat dinner outside. Sadly being outside in the refreshing breeze meant I forgot to turn off the oven and it took quite a bit longer for the house to cool down.

Spinach and Ricotta Pie with Filo Roses
(from UK Safeway Magazine)
Serves 4-6

300g cherry tomatoes, on the vine, halved
500g spinach, washed
1 tbsp olive oil, plus oil spray
2 leeks, washed, trimmed and sliced
2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
Handful fresh basil, torn
250g ricotta cheese
50g freshly grated parmesan cheese
2 eggs, lightly beaten
100g toasted cashews, chopped
Seasoning
4-6 sheets filo pastry

Preheat oven to 190 C and bake tomatoes for about 10-15 minutes. (The tomatoes shouldn’t be too soft because I think I overcooked mine this time and they were less noticeable in the pie.) Cook spinach in large covered pan 2-3 minutes til wilted. Drain and squeeze excess liquid. (I defrosted 500g frozen spinach and just drained most of the water off).

Gently cook leeks (I used 1 leek and most of a bunch of spring onions) and garlic in oil til soft – about 3-5 minutes. Add spinach and basil and stir til combined. Remove from heat and add ricotta, parmesan, eggs, cashews and stir. Gently stir in tomatoes last. Season. Spoon into a 25cm ovenproof dish.

Cut filo sheets into 4 squares each. Spray each square with oil spray and scrunch up like a rose (or a piece of paper you are about to throw in the bin). Place on pie. Repeat with remaining filo til you have covered the pie. Bake for 20-30 minutes until pastry is golden brown. It is good served with sauce or chutney.

On the Stereo:
John Barleycorn Reborn: Dark Britannica – Various Artists

Maloa House – Woodend Gourmet

Last weekend was the Labour Day long weekend. E and I went for a day trip to the country. We decided to go to Woodend, about 50 minutes drive from Melbourne, because there was a Lions Art Show in the church hall.

We stopped at a lovely café in a giftshop called Maloa House. It was all airy high ceilings, artwork on colourful walls and wooden counters. I liked it but E thought it too brightly lit (all the better for photographing my meal!). The shop also sold soaps, candles, lamps, beautiful crockery and gourmet groceries.

I had a herb and parmesan risotto cake topped with sweet potato, caramelized onions and stilton. It was presented with panache! The swirl of tomato sauce and herb sauce looked professional. I would have preferred a bit more sauce, but the sweet potato, onion and cheese added an interesting combination of intense flavours. But I was happy that I also ordered the bean salad. Without it the risotto might have been a bit dry. It was this salad that attracted me to the place. It comprised very light dressed cooked green beans, olives, semi dried tomatoes and potato. I’d go back just for the salad. It was deliciously simple.

The art show was nice but quite traditional – E couldn’t believe that one of my favourite paintings was of a beetroot! We also enjoyed a wander around Woodend. It feels like the tree-changers have infiltrated – I imagine quite a few of the residents commute to Melbourne daily. What does this mean? Gift shops of candles, soaps & quaint garden rustic furniture; quirky shops like Uncle Festers that sell witches wands and pentagrams made on the premises; a great second hand bookstore; and gourmet delicacies abound.

I was surprised that not only could I find a vegetarian meal quite easily, but that there was also a good selection of gluten free food. We found excellent friands at Bites Deli and were sad that the Literary Latte was closed so we couldn’t have a drink there – but maybe next time!

I left having purchased dried blueberries at Maloa House and parmesan cheese at the Deli, plus some mulled wine oil burner wax from Habitat. Not a bad haul from a country town. I still think of country towns being like the one I lived in as a child where having a dim sim or a chiko roll with my fish and chips was the height of sophistication! But the times they are a changing.

Maloa House
97 High Street
Woodend VIC 3442
Tel: 03 5427 1608
Fax: 03 5427 3226
Email: maloahouse@bigpond.com

WHB: In Search of the Nectarine

"Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine -- how good how fine. It went down all pulpy, slushy, oozy, all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large, beatified Strawberry."
John Keats (1795-1821)

I don’t make desserts often, especially when it comes to fruit desserts. Fresh fruit tastes great and is so easy. But I can be persuaded. This week I fancied making sweets and was persuaded by Haalo’s nostalgia for nectarines fresh from the tree, which she claimed, could be recreated by baking fresh nectarines in a strudel.

Unfortunately my memories of nectarines aren’t as glowing and soft edged as Haalo’s. Mine are of earwigs running out of the centre of a nectarine which gave me an irrational dislike of the fruit for years. But happily I have overcome it. Nectarines are now among my favourite fruits. I think I even like them more than peaches because they are smoother, smaller and more intensely flavoured. They are also good for me - like peaches, they are high in vitamins A and C. But we are now encountering the last of summer’s bounty as we slide into autumn.

All summer I have been promising myself I would bake dessert with stone fruit. When I was young and my mum regularly made sweets, I always wanted apricot in my pies and sponge puddings rather than apple. I really crave them more in winter when stone fruit is hard to come by. So, rather than wait til they are just an unobtainable dream of summer, I decided to have a final fling with nectarines.

Last year Susan wrote about nectarines always playing second fiddle to peaches. I remember feeling a little saddened at the thought and decided I needed to find out a little more about nectarines. Susan made the all- too-true observations that they don’t star in classic desserts or music. Luckily my partner E is a fount of useless information about music and remembered that there is a band in Edinburgh called Nectarine Number Nine – actually he tells me it is a musical project of Davey Henderson, a member of cult 1980s band The Fire Engines. E even once owned some of their albums on vinyl!

But Susan is right. The nectarine isn’t embedded in our culture like peaches. It isn’t found in the literary canon or childhood stories. No one would compare complexions or bottoms to the nectarine. But nevertheless, such a delicacy shouldn’t be hidden in the shadowy corners of history. Here is what I could find.

It is thought that nectarines probably originated in China about 2000 years ago and were cultivated in ancient Persia, Greece and Rome. Apparently, one Chinese emperor was so enthralled with nectarines that he and his people referred to them as the "nectar of the gods." The first recorded mention in English is said to be in 1616. I have read that in the 16th and 17th centuries the nectarine was known as the ‘nucipersica’ because it resembled the walnut (which begs the question has the nectarine, the walnut or people’s eyesight changed drastically since this time?) and then was known as the ‘nectorin’.

In the 19th century, there was a discussion over whether the nectarine should have its own species but it was decided that it was too similar to a peach. Here lies one problem in finding the nectarine. It is seen to be just a bald or mutant peach. Before I started my little bit of research on its history, I thought it was a recently discovered hybrid between a peach and a plum.

We don’t often hear the praises of the nectarine sung in history, although John Keats obviously appreciated a good juicy nectarine. I suspect if you look really closely you might find that some of the famous peaches might actually be nectarines. Maybe Prufrock really wondered if he dares to eat a nectarine. Maybe James lived inside a giant nectarine. And maybe Dame Nellie Melba might have preferred her eponymous dessert to be centred around a nectarine – after all she didn’t want to risk any peach fluff affecting her vocal chords.

Now that I have tasted nectarine strudel, I am amazed it is apples and not nectarines which found fame with this pastry dish. This strudel is so good with its crisp pastry, with almond and sugar between the layers giving a hint of marzipan, and with its large chunks of nectarine baked to a juicy tenderness that Haalo describes as akin to eating the fruit straight off the tree. I also added raspberries on a whim. It was fantastic! Even E loved it, despite claiming that he always asked his mother for a piece of pie with no fruit. Haalo gave very approximate quantities but I have had to be more precise to help me remember for next time (but I don't think these need to be closely followed). This was so delicious that I am hoping that I will bake it many more times.

I am sending this to Kel from Green Olive Tree who is this week’s host of Weekend Herb Blogging, which was started by Kalyn at Kalyn’s Kitchen.

Nectarine and Raspberry Strudel
(adapted from Haalo)
Serves 4-6

4 nectarines, sliced
50g raspberries
6 sheets filo pastry (about 30 x 20cm - a bit bigger might be good)
50g butter, melted
4 tbsp caster sugar
4 tbsp ground almonds

Place filo pastry sheets under a damp tea towel so you can take out one at a time. Grease or line a large baking tray. Preheat oven to 180 C.

Take sheet of filo pastry and place on the baking sheet. Brush with melted butter. Place a second sheet on top. Sprinkle with a tablespoon of ground almonds and a tablespoon of sugar. Repeat with melted butter on each sheet and almonds and sugar on the fourth sheet.

When you have used all 6 sheets (you don’t need to butter the top sheet) scatter 2 tablespoons of almonds and 2 tablespoons of sugar on the pastry. Pile nectarine slices along the pastry leaving a large margin and scatter with raspberries. Now here is where I got a bit unsure. Fold the pastry over to seal along the long seam – mine didn’t seal well so maybe I had a bit much fruit (although it was fine to serve). Fold the short ends over. Then carefully turn the strudel over so it is seam-side down on the baking tray. Brush more butter over the strudel.

Bake for 30-40 minutes in preheated oven. Serve with cream if desired. Good enough to eat without!

NOTE: other fruit could be used in this strudel, particularly other stone fruit. Haalo also says that you could use tinned peaches but that they should be drained as much as possible and a little more almond meal used to soak up juices.

On the stereo:
Live Recordings, Dec 30 & New Year's Eve 2003 - Oakland Arena - The Dead

MM Vegetable nut crumble

When I asked E what he wanted for dinner tonight he asked for something with rice. So I decided to find an old favourite recipe from one of my first vegetarian cookbooks which of course was produced by the Australian Women’s Weekly.

I had been thinking of cooking something for Meeta’s Monthly Mingle. This month the theme is one dish dinners. It made me reflect on how my cooking style has changed. I used to be a one pot cook. If I couldn’t throw it all in one pot then it was too complicated. These days I struggle at the idea of having dinner in one pot because I want more vegetables. Often I made a salad or steam some vegetables so their taste is fresher and not hidden under a heavy sauce or swamped by carbs.

But Meeta has made me think I should resurrect some of the good one pot meals I used to make which have fallen by the wayside. (After all I don’t want to throw out the baby with the bathwater!)

This dish is great because it is so satisfying. It has all the elements of a meal in a casserole dish. Rice on the bottom, vegies in the middle and lots of proteins on top. The flavours are quite simple but it works. I was a bit unsure if by one dish dinners, Meeta meant that only one dish was to be used in preparation or one dish was to be served out of. This dish doesn’t fit the former but it fits the latter. What I love about dinner being served from one dish is that it can be prepared ahead or served up as leftovers without any extra effort.

Oh and not only am I not sure it fits the theme, but it is a day late – hope Meeta will still accept it! But I hope she might include it as it is a great recipe that I would recommend – I even got to make dessert while the crumble was cooking. Stay tuned for that one!

Vegetable Nut Crumble
(from AWW Vegetarian Cooking)
Serves 4

1 cup brown rice
1 tsp vegetable stock powder
1 tbsp olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
1 small red pepper, chopped
125g broccoli, chopped
125g cauliflower, chopped
425g tin of chopped tomatoes
1 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
½ tsp dried mixed herbs
1 cup tasty cheese, grated

Crumble topping:
1 tbsp olive oil
¾ cup stale bread wholemeal breadcrumbs
1 cup unsalted mixed nuts, chopped (or less)
2 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped

Place brown rice and stock cube in large saucepan of boiling water. Simmer for approximately 30 minutes or until rice is cooked. Drain. Mix rice and egg. Spread in the bottom of a 2 litre dish (mine is about 22 x 22 cm square).

While rice is cooking, fry onions in oil for 2-5 minutes over medium heat. Add chopped vegetables, tin of tomatoes, parsley and herbs. Bring to boil and simmer for 7 minutes or until vegetables are just tender. Spoon vegetable mixture over rice.

To make crumble, mix all ingredients together in a small bowl. (Note: I found that I had a lot of crumble mixture and felt I could have used less but it did taste good.) Sprinkle vegetable mixture with cheese and then spread crumble over vegetables and bake in moderate oven for 20 minutes or til crumble is golden brown.

On the stereo:
She will have her way – the songs of neil and tim finn: various artists

Pomegranates - the cruelest fruit?

I have become enamoured of pomegranates over the last few months. I have discovered pomegranate molasses, pomegranate juice and I have finally tasted the ariels of the pomegranate. Pomegranates are everywhere - in the fruit displays at markets and supermarkets alike, in still life paintings and on book covers. I can’t tell you if it is a new fashion or my new knowledge that makes them hard to avoid. But I can tell you a little about their history and how it shows how women’s lives have changed over the centuries.

Pomegranates are known as the seeded apple, grenade, Chinese apple, poor man’s cranberry, food of the dead, wine apple. This enough shows what an interesting fruit it is. It is found in the bible, Greek mythology and the history of the royal families of Europe. Ironically it is a symbol of fertility and yet the pomegranate is portrayed in myth and history so often as being unkind to mothers - the effects of their pain rippled throughout the world.

My first encounter with pomegranate tales was reading, as a child, the myth of Persephone. When Persephone, daughter of Demeter (goddess of the Harvest), was lured into the underworld, it was her act of eating pomegranate seeds that condemned her to spend part of her life there each year. The pomegranate caused such a deep grief in Demeter when her daughter went to the underworld that our world took on the barrenness of winter each year to reflect her heartache.

The next story I chanced upon about pomegranates come from Stephanie at an Elegant Sufficiency. She told the story of Henry VIII’s first wife, Catherine of Aragon who took on the pomegranate as her symbol – among their wedding gifts was a suit of armour engraved with roses and pomegranates. Then, as now, a King married to produce an heir. In 1510, Catherine gave birth to a stillborn daughter. She then bore two sons who died in infancy – one within months and one within hours of birth - and another stillborn daughter. Her next child was a girl, named Mary who lived to rule England briefly. Catherine’s final pregnancy resulted in a stillborn daughter. Henry, frustrated at the lack of a male heir and the Pope’s refusal to annul the marriage, remarried and proclaimed himself head of the English Church, thereby beginning the English Reformation.

Poor Catherine had experienced the deaths of 5 babies by the age of 33, and her husband wanted to escape the marriage so desperately that he would create a new church. She died in a decaying castle, forbidden to see her only surviving child. What grief and pain she must have gone through. If I was her I would cursed the day I discovered the pomegranate.

After these stories I started looking for stories to illustrate why pomegranates were seen as symbols of fertility, but found these thin on the ground. Wikipedia pointed me to another figure of Greek mythology who had the pomegranate as an emblem – Hera. She was the wife and older sister of Zeus and goddess of marriage. Although she was a mother herself, there are many stories of her anger and violence towards childbearing women and their children. In various stories she is seen kidnapping the goddess of childbirth, plotting to rip a baby apart, murdering children, and tying together the legs of a pregnant woman to prevent childbirth. She wouldn’t be my ideal dinner guest! And she doesn’t do the reputation of the pomegranate any favours.

Continuing the theme of unhappy mothers, Wiki also reveals that the Virgin Mary is sometimes portrayed holding a pomegranate. Here again is an association with a mother who knew pain. She saw her son Jesus branded a criminal, publicly humiliated and dying an agonizing death.

Finally I turned to Jane Grigson who calls it an ‘unrewarding fruit’. She points me to another queen who took on pomegranate as her emblem. Anne of Austria had a series of miscarriages and sixteen years of childlessness. However this story has a happy ending. In 1638 at the age of 37, she finally had a son, King Louis XIV of France, known as the Sun King. Under his rule, France had military victories and cultural accomplishments, not least of which being his dazzling palace at Versailles.

To be fair to the pomegranate, it can’t be blamed for all the maternal woes. I started to look at other kings and queens and was surprised to see that stillbirth and infant death was quite common. Today it is not as common. Back then, maybe anything as simple (and expensive) as pomegranates that might help your children survive was welcomed. If you want some insight into the history of childbirth over the past century that have contributed to improvements in women's lives, I would recommend Janet McCalman’s history of the Royal Women’s Hospital in Melbourne, Sex and Suffering.

If you want to just celebrate women’s lives, then you could do worse than to make this beetroot and pomegranate tabbouleh that I made on International Women’s Day. I was pleased it was purple and green. The colours of our suffragette foremothers. Purple for passion. Passion comes from the Latin for patior meaning to suffer or to endure, but in our case maybe it means the good fight. Green for hope of a better life as well as the hope that our past struggles will not be forgotten.

Beetroot and pomegranate tabbouleh is a salad I am sure I have seen elsewhere but the recipe was not to be found again. So I looked up some tabbouleh recipes such as I’m in season, Kalyn’s information and my own green tabbouleh to give me guidance in this recipe.

I think I might have underdone the bulgar wheat and overdone the pomegranate molasses and lemon juice. The tabbouleh had a strong tangy taste but this was a fine accompaniment to a little nut roast or pasta or cheese quesadillas. The herbs gave it a fragrance and colour that pleased me. I was a little disappointed that the jewel-like pomegranate ariels weren’t more prominent against the beetroot but their sweet juicy explosions were a nice contrast to the tang. The seeds in the ariels had a little crunch as well which surprised me. Yet I love the refreshing juice and the beauty of the ruby ariels. I’m looking forward to cooking with pomegranates again despite its history of broken promises.

Beetroot and Pomegranate Tabbouleh
Serves 4-6 as a side dish

¼ cup bulgar wheat
¼ cup plus 1 tbsp (75ml) of vegetable stock
3 smallish beetroot, peeled and grated
1-2 spring onions, finely sliced
Handful parsley
Handful mint
1 tbsp pomegranate molasses
2 tbsp lemon juice
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 inch cucumber diced small
¼ tsp salt
Lots of black pepper
Ariels of ½ pomegranate
Fetta cheese, crumbled (optional - I didn't use)

Pour hot vegetable stock over bulgar wheat in a medium sized salad bowl. Cover (I just used a dinner plate) and sit for 10 minutes so the wheat absorbs the liquid. Add remaining ingredients and toss.

On the stereo:
Soliloquy for Lilith: Nurse with Wound

PPN #54 The Princess of Pastas

I found the prettiest pasta in the Mediterranean Supermarket in Sydney Road last week. When I saw the pasta one of my first thoughts was just how wonderful it would be to share photos of it on the blog.

This type of pasta is called ‘farfalle’ which is Italian for butterflies, but it is also known as bowties. I have had it often but never striped and coloured like this. The pasta I bought was imported from Salerno. It is coloured with red beetroot, spinach, blueberries, tomato and curcuma (which I was told is a close relative of saffron). I had to get some of the ingredients explained and I was relieved there was nothing like the squid ink that is in some of their other coloured pastas.

I knew I needed something simple to feature the pasta. I remembered a mint and parmesan pasta recipe that I had written down years ago with the fantasy of an overflowing mint garden (which will probably never happen). The recipe is so simple it is embarrassing. I am not usually one to add lots of butter to pasta but this farfalle is a bit of a princess and seemed to demand only the best.

The blogger I know would love this stunningly simple and downright delicious recipe is Ruth of Once Upon a Feast who holds Pasta Presto Nights every week and is most appreciative of everything pasta. So I am sending this to Ruth for this week’s round up.

Pasta with Mint and Parmesan
(From the Age newspaper)
Serves 3-4*

500g pasta such as farfalle, penne, linguine or spaghetti
60g butter, cut into pieces
½ cup chopped mint leaves
1 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Cook pasta according to packet instructions so it is al dente. Save about a cup of cooking liquid. Place chopped butter into the drained saucepan which you cooked the pasta in (it will melt in the hot saucepan). Add the cooked pasta, mint and half the cheese and toss. Add a bit of cooking liquid, as required. Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve scattered with the remaining cheese.

* I actually cooked only 200g of pasta for the two of us and was a bit lackadaisical with quantities of butter, mint and parmesan. I have reproduced the original quantities but suggest you adjust as suits you because it is quite flexible. You could reduce the butter and add more cooking liquid if you wanted less fat. I served the pasta with beetroot and pomegranate tabbouleh and a green salad.

On the stereo:
Affenstunde – Popol Vuh

Berry good oaty pancakes

After making my lovely smoothie on Saturday, E asked me to make pancakes, and I was up for a second breakfast because I adore pancakes. Though I love pancakes in savoury dishes, I can’t help associate them with sweet toppings, especially at breakfast time.

I have loved pancakes from a young age so let me tell you my path to pancake heaven. When I was a child, my mum would occasionally bake pancakes for sweets sometimes. We usually had the choice of butter and sugar or lemon juice and sugar. We would sit at the table – seven kids and my dad – while my mum served us small pancakes (almost like pikelets) hot from the frypan. I suspect you would have heard a lot of ‘me next, it’s my turn’ being called out to my mum. For the odd treat she would add bananas to the batter.

Maple syrup was not something we ever had at home. It was however, available at one of the family restaurants where we would infrequently eat out - the Pancake Parlour. My sister Susie was terrified by the Mad Hatter character wandering around the tables, but I was delighted by the large fluffy pancakes, mound of whipped butter and large sticky jugs of maple syrup. We had the excitement of buying their pancake mix once and I found that their secret to golden pancakes was a little bit of turmeric! My brother Andy made wonderful use of the mixture – he makes a delicious pancake brekky. I still love to go to the Pancake Parlour on the odd occasion and have a cheese pancake with salad – but I save half the pancake and eat it with maple syrup for sweets.

Then when I moved to Fitzroy as a student, another sister Chris introduced me to the Fitz – a trendy new café at a time when Brunswick Street, Fitzroy was moving up in the world. The Fitz did a killer breakfast of pancakes which I remember being piled with delicious berries. It was too big to ever finish but it was a revelation of how good pancakes could be. When considering my berries I dug out a recipe from a newspaper for their pancakes and was surprised to find it had apple and pineapple in the recipe - I only remember the berries. But it also had maple syrup and an orange sauce. The Fitz is still there with excellent food but it is no longer bo ho grungy and I couldn’t say if it does these pancakes any more.

When I go out for breakfast I often am tempted by pancakes but try to have them as a treat rather than as a regular breakfast. But when a menu offers up mostly meat and egg dishes, I find them a good alternative. I have had some good pancakes over the past few months – with berries and maple syrup at Rathdowne Street Food Store, with stewed rhubarb and apple at the University Café, and with strawberries, orange sauce and honeycomb cream at Madame Sousous (231 Brunswick St).

But I did have a recent experience in a café on Brunswick Street that reminded me of why I like to make breakfasts at home. We entered the cafe just before 10am and said we would like coffees and something to eat. No problem. The place was quiet and we weren’t in a hurry. I looked forward to some pancakes off the breakfast menu. After 5 or 10 minutes the waitress asked if we would like coffees. Not being a coffee person, I asked about something to eat. We were told that the chef had not yet arrived and they weren’t sure when he would. There didn’t seem much point in hanging around and we went elsewhere. Not an experience I am likely to have at home.

The pancakes I made on Saturday were made with oats. I have seen a few interesting pancakes on blogs recently – pancakes made with oat bran, oatmeal and green tea, and rhubarb and orange. But I found a recipe in my Alison Holst cookbook that beckoned me. She had discovered them in a cabin in California surrounded by snow and they had become family favourites.

I think these will rank among our favourites. They were wonderfully light and fluffy, but felt a little healthier for the addition of oats. The berry sauce was inspired by the Fitz and a Nigella recipe for blintzes from Domestic Goddess. It made good use of the berries I have stashed away in the freezer over summer. I liked the simplicity. The lemon juice and maple syrup enhanced the wonderful berry flavours. Drenched in maple syrup, these pancakes were vying for the title of my most favourite breakfast ever! Pancakes from heaven!

Maybe maple syrup is not the healthiest of ways to start the day. The addition of berries and oats goes some way towards making amends as they are full of antioxidants and fibre. So I am sending this to Cate at Sweetnicks for her ARF/5 a Day weekly event which encourages cooking with antioxidant rich foods.

Oaty Pancakes with Berries
Makes 4 pancakes

Oaty Pancakes (from Alison Holst):
¾ cup milk
¾ cup rolled oats
½ cup wholemeal flour
2 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt (I forgot this)
1-2 tbsp sugar
1 egg
2 tbsp melted butter
Extra butter for frying

Berry sauce (adapted from Nigella and The Fitz):
200g berries (I used a mix of blueberries, raspberries, blackberries)
Squeeze of lemon juice (or orange juice)
Splosh of maple syrup

Extra maple syrup to serve

Pour milk onto the oats and leave 5 minutes. Add flour, baking powder, salt, sugar and egg. Mix. Add melted butter. Heat a fry pan on medium high heat and place a small amount of butter in fry pan to lightly grease surface. Put a few spoonfuls of batter into fry pan and use spoon to spread it out a little to make a pancake of about 15-20 cm diameter. Fry til bubbles appear in batter and then flip over. Fry an additional couple of minutes or until other side is golden.

To make berry sauce, place berries, lemon juice and maple syrup in a small saucepan and cook on low for about 3 minutes or until berries soft and starting to release their juices.

To serve, I placed two pancakes on a plate, spooned some berry sauce on them and then poured extra maple syrup over then berries and pancakes.

On the stereo:
The Wire Tapper 18 (freebie with the Wire magazine) – Various Artists

WBB #20 A sanctimonious smoothie

Both Holler and Lisa have recently made a wonderful looking smoothies with blueberries, bananas, oats and maple syrup. I don’t eat blueberries or bananas by themselves but love them in a drink and they are fairy easy to buy at the supermarket (now that last year’s banana crisis is over). This drink looks delicious and so healthy it is downright sanctimonious :-)

I decided I would make one for myself this long weekend. Lisa had her oats soak in yoghurt overnight but I wanted a drink that didn’t require such planning ahead. I was tossing up between pancakes or a smoothie. So I asked E who was half asleep and said he didn’t want pancakes.

Happily I pottered about and made this smoothie. I am used to smoothies in juice bars which have much less yoghurt so I found it was quite sharp with the yoghurt but not unpleasantly so. I dislike adding any sort of sugary syrup to juices so I omitted the maple syrup. The result was a lovely fruity yoghurty sludge with lots of texture from the berry seeds and the oats. I’ve never have oats in a smoothie before but I liked the addition very much. This smoothie is even good if it sits a few hours in the fridge.

Once E got up he said he dreamt I said I would make him bacon and eggs. I gave him a sip of my lovely smoothie. He said it was too thick and he didn’t want any (hurrumph to the Grim Eater)! Then he said he fancied some pancakes. Luckily for him, I was feeling obliging as you will see in my next post.

I am sending this to Mansi at Fun and Food who is hosting this month’s Weekend Breakfast Blogging which was started by Nandita of Saffron Trail. The theme this month is balanced breakfast. Mansi has encouraged bloggers to try and cover as many of the following groups: Fruit & Vegetables, Grains & Cereals, Dairy, and Protein. Well if you count dairy as protein (which I do) then I have covered all of these so I would recommend this smoothie to Mansi for a balanced breakfast.

Blueberry, Banana and Oat Smoothie
(adapted from Tinned Tomatoes)
Serves 2

1/3 cup of apple juice
125g (1 punnet) blueberries
1 banana, peeled
250ml of plain-yoghurt
a small handful of oatmeal (approx 2-3 tbsp)

Blend all ingredients with a handheld blender or in a benchtop blender. Drink!

On the stereo:
Best of Scottish Folk: Various Artists

A Neb at Nut Roast - an invitation

I love nut roast. I love extolling its delicious virtues. Nut roasts have a bad reputation but when done well are heaven on a plate. But I just don’t see enough nut roasts on the blogs I read so I have decided a little gentle persuasion is needed. I am inviting you to have a go at making a nut roast and send it to me by Friday 18 April and I will post a roundup soon after (rules at the end of this post). To encourage you I have written notes on the glories of nut roasts and some advice about recipes and ideas for making them. Update: The round up of all the nut roast recipes sent in is here.

Defending the dreaded nut cutlet

I first recognised nut roast needed a champion a few months back when I was disturbed by nut roast bashing. Nigella in How to Eat advises vegetarians to avoid the nut roast route. (But then she says she would miss turkey and the stuffing. Which is ironic as I find that nut roast gives me the stuffing experience without having to eat any meat)! Nigel goes even further in Eating for England and says that they are an insult to vegetarians (I am paraphrasing because I read this in a bookstore). Even the Observer headlined an article on meat free Christmas feasts (2007) with ‘Nutroast – no thanks!’

I decided to dig into my vegetarian cookbooks where I was sure I would find allies. There wasn’t much but what I found suggested that although vegetarian writers knew the joys of nut roasts, the bad reputation of the nut cutlet has haunted vegetarians in Britain. Joyce McKinnell in 1978 wrote that ‘ Ten to one as soon as you mention you are a vegetarian you get the traditional nut cutlet remark, but there’s more to a nut than a cutlet.’ Rose Elliot (in Vegetarian Cookery) says ‘I particularly like both a good nut roast and the ‘dreaded nut cutlet’, which can be moist, full of flavour and a real pleasure to eat’. You can read a bit more about my investigations into nut roast history here.

I am not sure how the nut cutlet traumatised Britain but I take umbrage at the lack of understanding among our celebrity cooks such as Nigella and Nigel. If they were served a dried up old roast beef that was like eating an old boot they might not like it, but it doesn’t mean that they would shun all roast beef. Perhaps nut roast is like the little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead – when it is good it is very very good but when it is bad it is horrid. This is why I am on a bit of a mission to reclaim the nutroast, to sing its praises and get it back on the menu.

What’s to love about nut roasts?

If you want to impress a carnivore with a vegetarian meal, this is the one to make. I want to encourage carnivores to try them as well as vegetarians because these taste so good.

I have written about the wonders of nut roasts before but I will quickly tell you again. They are crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside (even creamy if you use ground nuts). Nut roast recipes are wonderfully flexible and can be adapted to suit most tastes. I know one criticism is that they are dense and substantial – but this does not necessarily translate into dry and tasteless. Nut roast comforts and satisfies on a cold winter day like my mum’s roast dinner. But they can also be light and are wonderful served cold with a salad.

Nut roasts replace many of the meat experiences I loved as a child. Nut roasts can easily replace meat as the centre of a meal, especially in a dinner of meat and vegetable side dishes such as a roast dinner. Nut roasts remind me of stuffing, meatloaf, mincemeat, german sausage, cold cuts and sausages - but yummier. Nut roasts have made a joy of my Christmases as a vegetarian. As well as being served sliced with vegetables, nutroasts can be stuffed into pastry, slice in sandwiches, crumbled in a bolognaise sauce or a chilli non carne, fried, chopped in a curry or stew. The possibilities are endless. It can be served with all manner of gravies, sauces, roast vegies, salads and other side dishes.

I know I am not alone in loving nut roasts. Recently Holler and Ricki have made their first nut roast and sung its praises. In fact Ricki seemed to have fallen in love - “I love nutroast! Nutroast is King! Long Live Nutroast!!”. I also found a wonderful write-up on nutroast by Sher - ‘I'll bake this marvelous loaf again and again. I'm hooked.’ - and the responses suggested that there are many more bloggers intrigued by the lure of the nut roast.

Advice on sourcing and adapting nut roast recipes

Below I have written some lists of typical nut roast ingredients, links to nut roasts I have blogged, links to other nut roasts I have found in the blogosphere. You will also find nut roast recipes by cookbook writers such as Rose Elliot, Sarah Brown, Charmaine Solomon and Deborah Madison. Nut roasts may come by different names as you will see in the list below. It is not to be confused with the sweet cakey ‘nutloaf’ my mum used to bake in cylindrical tins. Nor is it any bread or cake which happen to have a few chopped nuts in it.

As you will see in these lists, there are many different versions of nut roast. I encourage you to experiment with nut roast recipes as they take kindly to whims and favouritism. You may even find inspiration in meat dishes – such as the dried fruit in turkey stuffing, meatloaf baked in tomato soup, or the crunchy cheese and breadcrumb topping on a meatloaf. Just remember that a few nuts go a long way.

There are also dishes that are so close to nut roasts that they might be considered close cousins, such as vegetarian haggis, baked paté, terrines. You may also have come across nut roasts served as burgers or disguised as stuffing in sausage rolls, pies, pancakes, stuffed vegetables or vegetarian hog's heads.

Typical Nut Roast Ingredients:

The essential nuts: ground or chopped nuts or nut butters of any kind – cashews, brazils, almonds, peanuts, walnuts, pecans, chestnuts, etc

For texture and bulk: breadcrumbs, rice, oats, millet, barley, flours, other grains, seeds

To make sure it sticks together: eggs, tahini, flaxseed, cottage cheese, tofu

Flavouring: salt, soy sauce, herbs, tomato sauce, vegetable stock, spices, chillis, garlic, worcestershire sauce, nutritional yeast flakes

Optional extra flavour, moisture and texture: pureed vegies (carrot, pumpkin, potato, sweet potato, peas), grated/shredded vegies (carrot, zucchini, beetroot, spinach), finely chopped and fried vegies (onion, carrot, celery, mushrooms, tomatoes), vegetable juice, lentils, beans, grated cheese, chopped tempeh

Nut Roasts on my blog (I will add to this when I try other recipes):

- Cheese and Walnut Nutloaf – a quick and simple nut roast which I make for Christmas every year. This one has a great texture for cutting thin slices.
- Nutroast (and see Cindy’s version with her advice) – a more flavoursome nut roast with mushroom and tomato.
- Vegetable nutloaf – a free-form nut roast with lots of vegetables that I made by throwing in whatever I had in the pantry.
- Walnut and mushroom nutroast – vegan nut roast with herbs and sundried tomatoes.
- Carrot, Parsnip and Cashew Loaf – gluten free and vegan – filled with mashed vegies and millet, it had too much ooze but still tasted excellent.
- Cheesy Nutloaf - a gluten free nut roast with lots of vegetables, cheese and rice.
- Parsnip Nut Roast - a classic nut roast with the addition of mashed parsnip - soft and bready. Made vegan by substituting soy flour for egg.
- Michaelmas Loaf - a recipe from 1910 - this nut roast is quite solid and nutty. The instructions involves moulding the loaf in a roasting tin and basting it with water and butter.
- Chestnut, Walnut and Mushroom nut roast - my own creation (inspired by Rose Eliot and Sarah Brown) to use up some chestnut puree - very rich and gluten free.
- Tofu and Spinach Nutroast - with smoked paprika and gouda cheese, but egg-free and gluten free - this is a soft, moist, crumbly nut roast.
- Cereal Nut Roast - a nut roast made with vegies, cottage cheese and weetbix (or cornflakes) which intrigued me for its quirky ingredients - more comforting than fancy, it is a soft mushy nut roast.

Nut roasts in the blogosphere:

- White Nut Roast with Stuffing made by Four Friends and a Blog
- Cheese and Walnut Loaf (from Deborah Madison’s Greens Cookbook) made by What did you eat, The Hungry Tiger, and Nexus
- Mushroom Nut Roast with Tomato Sauce (from Gourmet Vegetarian by Jane Price) made by Holler of Tinned Tomatoes
- Vegetable Nut Roast made by Sher of She likes her food
- Holiday Lentil Loaf from Fat free vegan recipes
- Magical Loaf Maker by Vegan Lunchbox

A Neb* at Nut Roast: the Rules

-- make a nut roast (where a nut roast is a vegetarian savoury baked loaf that contains nuts - not a bread or a cake).

-- post about your nut roast on your blog. I encourage you to write about your nut roast experiences – have you had it before, what do you think of it, how do you serve it, and have you encountered the dreaded nut cutlet? Please write your post in English. You are welcome to use the logo and to send more than one entry.

-- email me at gggiraffe07 AT yahoo DOT com DOT au by Friday 18 April and send me:
- your name
- name of your blog
- location
- url of your post
- a photo

-- If you don’t have a blog, you are welcome to submit a recipe. Email me your name, location, recipe and photo (if you have one) and I will be happy to include it in the round up.

-- I look forward to receiving your posts and recipes and I will post a round up of all recipes in the week following 18 April.

* Neb is Scottish slang for having a peek, taking a look, a sticky beak. It literally means ‘nose’.

Update: The event has finished but you can see the nut roasts sent in by going here.

On the stereo:
Workers Playtime: Billy Bragg

Nutroast in the time of vagueness

The night before, we were out seeing a great band called Rachel Unthank and the Winterset (you will see the CD purchases from the gig are on the stereo) and I said to E that I was planning to make a gluten free nut roast. ‘Why do you have to do that?’ he asked. ‘Does it mean it wont taste as good?’ Poor E is my guinea pig when I want to try something new, but he is always willing to taste.

So I thought about why I need to try a gluten free nut roast – is it because:
a) my vegetarian diet makes me want to prove anyone can eat well on any diet (except of course breatharians whose diet of sunshine and fresh air I will never attempt to emulate),
b) I am curious to try new things,
c) I feel encouraged by seeing bloggers in action to try foods that previously have just been words and pictures in cookbooks,
d) I bought a packet of millet on impulse and need to use it up,
e) I want to find great recipes that I could repeat for my coeliac niece or my sister could make for her, or
f) I never met a nut roast I didn’t like.

Well maybe the answer is 'all of the above'. I am not really sure and probably gave E a vague answer. And that would have meant I started thinking about the meal the way I cooked it.

It was Friday night and I was feeling a bit vague. I was tired and as usual didn’t read the recipe properly. I mashed parsnip that I should have grated and fried. I found I didn’t have the parsley which I had thought was in the fridge. I didn’t preheat the oven and everything took longer than I expected, including the cooking time. And when I started heating up some tomato sauce from the freezer I found it was actually chilli non carne. Oops!

As I chopped and stirred and pureed I did think about E’s question about why I was making it. It was a good learning experience to use whole millet for the first time and see how mushy and glutinous it became, how it really did need lots of water, and how it spat boiling water at me like a bubbling tomato sauce or polenta. Next time millet is called for in a recipe I will understand it a little more.

I’d been all excited about a nut roast that was both gluten free and vegan. It had to be great. Actually it tasted pretty good but it was one of those dishes that I suspect would be unrecognizable to the original creator of the recipe. Why else would she advise to cover the top with foil, when I struggled to get mine to crisp up on top with no cover at all? Mine was barely cooked inside – really it seemed just hot batter rather than the usual miracle of the oven altering the texture altogether. Possibly because I didn’t really follow the recipe. But the vivid orange colour was superb!

I wish I was one of those people with lots of patience to make recipes over and over until it is right but there are just so many recipes and so little time. I liked it but it is not what I would expect of a nut roast. I will probably try to follow the recipe properly some time but not right now. But I am posting this recipe as a sign of hope that this dish can be great. It is good but it should be so much better.

Carrot, Parsnip and Cashew Loaf
(from Vegetarian Cooking Without by Barbara Cousins)
Serves 4

450g / 1lb carrots,
90g / 3oz / scant ½ cup millet grain
125g / 4oz / 2/3 cup cashews, unsalted
1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
1 garlic clove, crushed
175g / 6oz parsnips
½ tsp dried sage
½ tsp dried thyme
1 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
1 tsp salt, or to taste
generous grinding of black pepper

Peel and chop carrots and cook til soft (about 20 minutes). Cook millet in a covered saucepan with lots of water until soft (about 20 minutes). When the millet is done strain water out in a sieve – if it is really gluggy like mine you may need to rinse in cold water.

While these are cooking, fry onion and garlic in oil for about 3-4 minutes and then add parsnip and gently fry nicely browned – about 20 minutes. (This was the step I missed – I boiled the parsnip with the carrot but I think this step might have improved it – BC advise not to turn up the heat and hurry the cooking.)

Grind the cashew nuts in a blender or food processor (this was not in the recipe – maybe another reason mine was so soft – but if you don’t grind the nuts, I would advise you at least chop them a bit). When carrots are done puree in food processor or blender separately to cashews (I did them together and wouldn’t advise it).

Mix all ingredients together in a mixing bowl or saucepan and spoon into a greased and lined loaf tin (I used a 22 x 18cm tin). The recipe said to cover with foil and bake at 180 C for 40 minutes. I didn’t cover it, turned it up to 220 C after 30 minutes and baked it 60 minutes altogether – it still didn’t quite crisp as I had hoped on top.

I served it with corn on the cob, tomato sauce (chopped onion, garlic, passata, a splash of vodka, wholegrain mustard and seasoning) and a salad (rocket, cucumber, tomato, orange capsicum and raspberry vinegar). It was even better the second night with tomato sauce, beetroot and pomegranate tabbouleh and some steamed broccoli.

On the Stereo:
Cruel Sister: Rachel Unthank and the Winterset.

Cookies with an Autumn Glow

Autumn has just begun in Melbourne. I welcome it warmly. I love that foods come and go during the year with the changing of the seasons. I think about our ancestors who has no choice but to eat seasonal food. How glad they must have been to find asparagus or corn or brussels sprouts come into season when there was no option of having them during the rest of the year. I know spring is the time that is traditionally seen as bringing glorious new harvests after winters paltry offerings but I love autumn.

Spring brings frivolous pleasures but autumn offers inner warmth and depth – much like a childhood bookshelf of Enid Blyton's stories and Mary Grant Bruce’s Billagong books is fun, but not as interesting as the eclectic library of classics, mysteries and histories that have been gathered over years of learning. Maybe I am trying to say I want to take pleasure in the warmth of my oven, to have stews simmering and bread baking in my kitchen – meals that take their time to develop intense flavours. But it is more than that.

As a child, summer holidays would stretch out forever. Particularly in Australia where, once summer has really taken hold, it is the start of the year - the end of the year seems so far away. The change of season at the start of March brings the recognition that the year is passing us by. The autumn leaves begin to fall from the trees, reminding us that life is all too short. Winter will soon be here bringing scarcity. Nothing lasts.

This is what our ancestors knew. ‘Summer's lease hath all too short a date'. Our ancestors knew they wouldn’t have the same fruit and vegetables all year around. And with that knowledge came an appreciation for what they had. The good crops must be enjoyed because they come to an end. The bad must be endured because change will come. This too shall pass.

This is why I like eating seasonal food. It is not a strength of mine - I love the bounty. But the fruit that is only available at certain times of the year is so much more special when I can eat it. So I am farewelling the berries and the stone fruit because I know that when next summer comes around I will love it all the more for having being denied it during the months in between. And I welcome apples which are now crisp and delicious.

Of course, I am thankful that some foods are always with us. Chocolate for example! But even choc chip cookies can be tweaked to be seasonal. Which is what I did this week. I made some choc chip cookies with pumpkin, spice and dried cranberries. They are delicious and seem just right for this time of year. I remember a friend, Mindy, commenting last year that her pumpkin choc chip cookies were cakey. I agree, but happily so, as I prefer my cookies more cakey than crisp. The pumpkin gives the cookies a deep pleasing orange colour. These are cookies to comfort and warm me as the weather cools and becomes gloomy grey. Perfect snacks for autumn days.

Grey Ghost Pumpkin Cookies
(adapted from… source unrecorded)
Makes 4 dozen

2 cups plain flour
1½ cup quick cooking oats (I used rolled oats)
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
½ tsp salt
180g butter or margarine
1 cup brown sugar (lightly packed)
½ cup raw sugar
1 egg
1 cup mashed cooked pumpkin (300-350g)
1 cup dark chocolate chips
1 cup dried cranberries
1 tsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 350 F. Cream butter and sugar. Add egg and vanilla. Add pumpkin (it should be cooled but mine wasn’t really which may have contributed to a very soft mixture). Add dry ingredients and choc chips. Drop teaspoonfuls of mixture onto a lined or greased baking tray and bake 20-25 minutes. (The recipe actually suggests dropping ¼ cups of batter and using a spatula to make ghost shapes -I just made normal cookies.)

On the Stereo:
Bairns: Rachel Unthank and the Winterset.

Garam Masala and Gravy Mysteries

When I lived in share households, I sometimes was inspired to make an effort with curries, although I think it was housemates with a finer appreciation for chilli than me who made the most curries. These days I am a bit lazy and occasionally make dahl or a curry when I just throw in some standard spices (tumeric, cumin, coriander, chilli) or even lazier and throw in a jar of curry paste. E calls it Rob’s Slob Curry after a curry in a student cookbook. We are spoilt for excellent Indian restaurants in Melbourne so if I need good Indian meals I can eat out (although nothing as good as the Empress of India in Peebles, Scotland).

But recently, I’ve been seeing some wonderful Indian recipes on other blogs. I am shamed by my lack of efforts and decided this is an area where I must try harder. There are a few reasons I have avoided these sorts of dishes. I am not a chilli fiend, I have often not had all the ingredients required, and I find the vegetable curry recipes often focus on only one or two vegetables, rather than the rainbow I like to see on my plate.

So, you see, when it comes to interesting Indian food, I am out of my comfort zone. I see words that are English but they still aren’t my language. While I mean something quite smooth, brown and salty (but not spicy) when I say gravy, Indian cooks seem to refer to any sort of sauce as gravy. I still am getting my head around tempering (what is it?), urad dahl and all the other dahls that go by unfamiliar names (I think Charmaine Solomon has been the most helpful in explaining this) and the grinding masala.

But I am intrigued by the recipes and I want to learn. I was inspired by koftas in gravy that Mansi cooked recently. But I still had a lot to get my head around. Firstly, I checked with Mansi about the garam masala she used. When she said it tasted savoury not sweet I knew I had to find a decent spice mix.

I have never liked the insipidly sweet garam masala they sell in supermarkets. In one of my share houses, my housemates made garam masala which opened my eyes to how good it can be. I don’t know where that recipe came from but a quick search on the web will give you quite a few (try about.com, o chef, or if you really want to be overwhelmed check out the 50 versions on Food India) Food India tells me that Garam means hot and masala means spice, and that the mixtures are vary from region to region. They also advise that garam masala is usually added towards the end and warn too much can overpower a dish.

Making garam masala was a bit much for me so I headed off down Sydney Road to a local Indian supermarket. The ingredients are as follows: coriander, chilli, aniseed, cloves, cinnamon, garlic, staranise, cumin, pepper, nutmeg, cardamom, curry leaf, ginger, tumeric, salt, refined groundnut oil. It smells so fragrant and was surprisingly hot. My reading tells me it only lasts a few months. This box was huge so I have given half to my mum, and I am sure I will still struggle to use it up.

A good garam masala makes a difference, especially in a recipe where it is used generously. Nevertheless, making the koftas in gravy, I felt all thumbs. My timing was all wrong and there wasn’t enough water in the gravy. I wrote myself quite a few notes and waited til I was able to try it again to be confident enough to post about it.

This is the sort of Indian cooking that interests me. I felt quite proud to make something that looked like it might come from one of the local Indian restaurants. The gravy is fragrant and spicy. The wonderfully yellow koftas are a great contrast in texture as well as colour. And I bought great roti from the Indian minimart instead of the supermarket to eat with the koftas.

I strayed from Mansi’s recipe a little – and have altered the instructions to help me. I used zucchini rather than bottle gourd because I have never come across the latter and I love zucchini. The second time I made it I was more generous with adding water to the gravy and used yoghurt rather than cream, as I tend to have the latter about the kitchen more. The gravy was still quite thick especially with the leftovers the next day, but I have one photo of the first batch with the thick gravy for you to compare to my more watery later one - the koftas in the first are neater but don't have enough liquid. Needless to say, I used less chilli. Even so, Mr Tabasco Fiasco himself told me it was very spicy. Spicy but delicious!

Zucchini koftas with tomato gravy
Adapted from Food and Fun
Serves 4

zucchini koftas:
3 medium (650g) zucchinis (or ½ mid-sized bottlegourd)
1½ cup besan (chickpea flour), or more
3-4 tsp turmeric powder
3-4 tsp red chilli powder (I used 1 tsp chilli paste)
1 tbsp finely chopped almonds (optional)
¼ tsp salt, or to taste
2-3 tbsp lemon juice

Tomato gravy:
1 tbsp oil
1 tbsp cumin seeds
1 medium onion
3-4 cloves of garlic
½ cup (125ml) passata (or puree two tomatoes)
2 tsp garam masala powder
½ tsp salt, or to taste
½ cup (50g) almonds, ground
½ cup (125ml) milk*
1-2 cups water
½ cup (125ml) cream or yoghurt*

chopped fresh coriander and slivered almonds - for garnish

* This recipe can be easily made vegan by using non-dairy substitutes.

Before you start on the gravy you should do the following preparation. Grate the zucchinis and use a sieve or colander to press out as much water as possible (Mansi says this is so koftas don’t break up in the gravy). Place onions and garlic in blender til they are finely chopped (Mansi says a smooth paste but finely chopped worked for me). Stir 2 tsp of water into ground almonds to form a very thick paste (it will look like it is too dry to make a paste but continue to press together with the back of a spoon).

To make the gravy: Using a large frypan with a lid, fry the cumin seeds in oil til they start spluttering. Add onion-garlic mixture and fry for about 5 minutes. Add garam masala, tomato puree and salt and stir into onion mixture. Add milk gradually, stirring constantly. Add almond paste and mix into the gravy. Add 1-2 cups water. Cover and simmer on low flame (I think this should be for 10-20 minutes).

While gravy is simmering, make the koftas: Mix the drained zucchini, tumeric, chilli and salt to taste, almonds and besan. Add lemon juice to taste. My batter was like a thick cake batter. I added more besan than Mansi and it was still very sticky.

Check the gravy is quite thin. If not, add some more water. I formed small golf ball sized koftas with the batter and dropped them in the simmering gravy (or just drop in spoonfuls if you don’t have time to form koftas). The gravy should be on a low flame while the koftas are cooking. Cover and cook for 3-5 minutes. Then gently turn koftas over. Add cream or yoghurt to the gravy and gently stir to mix. Cook koftas another 3-5 minutes.

Lift koftas into serving bowls and top with gravy. Garnish with coriander and slivered almonds (or with fresh chopped tomatoes and cucumber) and serve with chappatis, roti or rice.

On the Stereo:
This is Hardcore: Pulp

Paté and Cat Hair

I made paté recently and was a bit overwhelmed at a huge container in my fridge. Then I discovered it was great to take to work for lunches to eat with raw vegie and cold toast. So now that it is finished I have decided to return to an old favourite paté recipe which I prefer. It isn’t rich and dark like my other paté which looked scarily meaty. This one is much lighter. It is packed with green beans, tofu and subtle flavours, and has a pleasing green tinge to it.

The recipe called for dried thyme and sage but as I have thyme and sage in the garden I decided to use fresh. However, I have found a something else to beware of with fresh herbs – cat hair. I washed the herbs and they still seemed to have some gossamer in them which I recognized as Zinc’s white hair. The wee rascal doesn’t have especially long hair but it does get everywhere. You only have to pat her and you come away with a handful. The number of times I am walking to work and I look down at my clothes and realize they are full of cat hair. And now it is even in my herbs.

So I picked out the cat hair, washed my herbs again and made the paté. I served it with some lovely Polish corn bread from the market. Just the sort of dark nubbly bread I imagine that the Finns would eat it with.

Finnish Green Bean Paté

350g tofu (medium firm or soft)
2 cups (approx 450g) steamed green beans
½ cup toasted walnuts
1 tbsp tamari
3 tbsp mayonnaise or plain yoghurt
2 tsp prepared mustard (I used wholegrain)
1 large onion, peeled
2 tsp vegie oil
½ tsp dried thyme (or 1 tsp fresh)
½ tsp dried sage (or 1 tsp fresh)
¼ tsp ground coriander
1 dill pickle cucumber finely chopped (approx ¼ cup)
Freshly ground black pepper

Blanch and press tofu (I didn’t blanch as I never blanch anything but did try and press a little water out of the tofu in a very inexperienced way that involved a chopping board, a plastic tub and a paper towel – just use your imagination!) Grate tofu or mash it up with a fork. Set aside in a mixing bowl.

Use food processor to finely chop onions. Put onion aside and place one or two tbsp of raw chopped onions in the food processor with green beans, walnuts, tamari, mayonnaise (or yoghurt) and mustard in the food processor. Blend, scraping down sides a few times. Tip into bowl with tofu.

Heat oil in a frying pan. Saute onions in oil with herbs and coriander for about 5 minutes over medium low heat. Tip into bowl with tofu and beans.

Add pickle and plenty of fresh black pepper. Mix well. Refridgerate til well chilled. Serve with rice crackers, rye bread or vegetables.

On Stereo:
Act of Free Choice: David Bridie

Sydney Road – one street, two festivals

In summer all the old men, they sit on their front porches,
While the women comb their hair, shell their peas,
And wonder what they’ve missed.
(Brunswick by Weddings Parties Anything)

Melbourne feels like the city of festivals at the moment, and Sydney Road has been enjoying the buzz. Over the last week I have been to the Sydney Rd Street Party as part of the Brunswick Music Festival, and a Sydney Road Bakery Tour as part of the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival. So here is the lowdown on Sydney Road, Brunswick.

Sydney Road is traditionally known as a street of middle eastern food. It is packed with shops selling kebabs, falafel, Turkish bread and pita bread. Due to the housing boom, the ethnic mix is diversifying but it is still the middle eastern culture that dominates. As I take the tram home from work I see names that remind me of my travels in Turkey. I see the old guys sit outside the cafés with a coffee and I think of the Weddos song about Brunswick that I quoted above.

A decent smattering of Indian mini-marts and a huge Mediterranean supermarket demonstrate the presence of other cultures. Near Barkly Square are some trendy new cafes (such as
Green Refectory Café and Lentil as Anything), around Blyth Street a critical mass of bridal shops (including Moslem wedding dresses) is growing, and shops are scattered throughout which sell fruit & vegetables, books, clothes and middle eastern handicrafts.

About a week ago E and I went to the Sydney Road Street Party. The streets were closed to traffic and lined with stalls. The Asylum Seekers Resource Centre was selling pancakes, Moreland Bike Users Group was giving out information, a small ferris wheel was set up in front of a church, and musicians performed on a series of stages. Many stalls were selling goods: clothes, soaps, books, knick knacks, cds, soft toys. At one point I found E strumming on a dulcimer in a music stall. We also managed to buy the most unpractical things to drag about – an oversized Turkish plate, a mirror and a record (Swinging London).

We had decided to get lunch there but the main food for sale seemed to be sausages. So when we saw the Hare Krishna stall we made a beeline for it. The food was excellent – vegetable curry, rice, kofta balls, tomato sauce and carrot halva – all for a mere $9. I liked the efficient and cheerful service that made the wait in queue a bit more bearable. The meal was so filling I couldn’t finish it. I was quite pleased to try the semolina halva for the first time and am now keen to try more. Once we left I saw lots of other food – gozleme, vegetable fritters, samosa, corn on the cob – but nothing as satisfying as the Hare Krishnas.

Then last week I did the Sydney Road Bakery Tour with my mum. When I met mum, she told me that I shouldn’t have had lunch. It was a bit late for that advice but I still managed to do a great deal of tasting as well as viewing many kitchens and demonstrations. Our guide was an energetic character but I would have appreciated a little less dwelling on bullet holes from drive by shootings and a little more information about how Sydney Road came to be a haven for migrants from the Middle East.

We started at Pamukkale Bakery (692 Sydney Road) where we stood in the kitchen and saw how they shape Turkish Bread. The baker had gone home in exhaustion and we had another member of staff talk to us. My delight there was to find that they make simits which are the sesame covered bread rings that I loved buying from street vendors in Turkey. I will be back for these.

At Phoenicians Bakery (774 Sydney Road), we were shown a display of Lebanese pizzas, and treated to a tasting of the pitta bread, dips and pickles, including the new Thai carrot dip. At Amir Bakery (817 Sydney Road) we were treated to freshly baked Iraqi cheese and spinach pastries. Our final stop was the A1 Bakery (643 Sydney Road) where again we discussed their Lebanese pizzas. The host told us about a pizza or pastie of yoghurt soaked bulgar wheat which sounded very interesting - I didn’t catch the name but I want to try it soon.

We also visited some Lebanese sweet shops. Balha’s Pastry (761 Sydney Road) gave us rosewater and ‘lady’s arms’ full of sweet cream. In their kitchen we saw huge trays of chopped pistachios and cashews, a young man putting together a tray of baklava and trays of baklava rotating in an oven. We also went to El Fayha (648 Sydney Road) where we were treated to demonstrations of making lady’s fingers, bird nests, and princess dianas.

So what did I learn? One of the best pieces of advice was that you should try something from every shop because they all make their food slightly differently (possibly dependent on region). I learnt that baklava and other pastries are made by placing filo pastry sheets in the tray (without butter between each sheet) and then pouring copious amounts of butter over them, baking the tray and pouring syrup over them. Our tour guide impressed on us how hard everyone in these bakeries work, and that at Ramadan they sell two or three times what is sold the rest of the year. We also had to organize our visits around one pastry chef’s prayer times.

I really enjoyed the tour and came home with lots of food. Much of it was given away during the tour – Turkish bread, pitta bread, thyme, oregano and sesame seed pizza, haloumi pastie, and baklava and other pastries. I did buy some beetroot dip and a little bowl on the way home.

When checking the goodie bag at home, I found we had been given recipes from the A1 bakery but it made me laugh that the dough required 10kg of flour. I don’t think I will make that much ever! Besides, I felt overwhelmed at having so much bread to eat. Here is how I ate it.

I had planned to serve my Tambo salad with baked potatoes after the tour but decided to serve it with pitta, herb pizza and dip instead. The pizza was a little dry but the pitta was lovely. The next night I used the pitta bread to make potato pizza (passata, rosemary, garlic, thinly sliced baked potato, cheese and pepper served with rocket and tomatoes – 15-20 minutes at 220 C). The Turkish bread was served as a foccacia with passata, roast pumpkin, roast asparagus, roast mushroom, rocket and cheese (10-15 minutes at 200 C). I also had Turkish bread with some leftover leek and potato soup.

All this wonderful food makes me determined to get down to Sydney Road to eat more often!

My Friend the Chocolate Cake

Last week I did a list of food related music which was my brainstorm for making food that related to music for the Eat to the Beat event at Elly Says Opa. It quickly became clear to me what I wanted to make. One of my favourite band names would have to be My Friend the Chocolate Cake, for obvious reasons. I couldn’t pass up a chance to rave about chocolate cakes and a wonderful band.

My Friend the Chocolate Cake (MFTCC)is a Melbourne based band founded by the talented vocalist/pianist David Bridie and cellist Helen Mountford in 1989. David Bridie is one of those clever musicians who have had many musical projects and use their talents for good causes. I first came across him in ambient band Not Waving Drowning. I remember sitting on the floor of the grungy Punters Club watching David Bridie play solo many years ago. This was before the release of the MFTCC album, Brood was released in 1994.

Brood is the only one of MFTCC’s albums I own. Brood has accompanied me on my travels, starred on the stereo during cooking and dinner parties, and been solace when I have felt low. The songs are in turn evocative and playful with Bridie’s delicate sad voice soaring over the melancholy of the cello and the swirling piano notes. You will also find violin, mandolin and various percussion instruments. One of my favourite MFTCC lines is ‘there’s nothing quite as harmful as a slow moving day’. The bio on their website describes the music as ‘the unlikely union of kitchen sink piano tales, vivid chamber orchestration and hell-raising instrumental shenanigans.’

I can only remember seeing the band once though I am sure there have been other times. E and I saw them some years ago in Geelong at one of those grown-up gigs where everyone sits at tables and chairs and buys wine and plates of posh food at the bar. The band is fun to see live and can still be seen playing around Melbourne’s festivals and the world’s cities.

And the name of the band is inspired because isn’t every chocolate cake a friend! Well most of them. I grew up loving the chocolate cake that my mum baked on a regular basis. When I started baking I discovered rich gooey flourless chocolate cakes which had suddenly come into vogue and were to be found in every second cafe. I have a fine collection of a whole range of chocolate cake recipes. I checked my index and was surprised to find only 8 chocolate cakes on my blog (plus a few cupcakes and brownies). But I think it is enough to convince you that my paradise would have a table heaving with every chocolate cake I have ever seen a recipe for – they would be fresh out of the oven and I would be able to eat as much as I liked without becoming either full or fat.

I am always after trying out new chocolate cake recipes. For a while now I have been curious to make a chocolate gingerbread cake. Elly’s event gave me the excuse I needed. I know Nigella has an interesting recipe but I wanted to try the Chocolate Spice Gingerbread cake from my Green and Black’s Chocolate cookbook. Chocolate, spices, prunes, molasses (because I don’t have treacle) and only one egg. Sounded delicious.

It is a cake to make when I'm not hungry because the recipe advises it tasted better the next day. I did it after a bakery tour and managed to wait til the next day before even tasting it. I also made it just before seeing my mum because she loves ginger and I knew she would enjoy this. E and I tried it with butter but I think it tasted just as good without. It is the sort of cake to eat on a wintery day accompanied by a cuppa tea.

This is a dark intense cake with a glossy and slightly cracked top, but it was not quite what I expected. The molasses was quite overwhelming and the chocolate and spices had to take a backseat to it. But once I accepted the dominance of molasses I began to taste all the other subtle fragrances and flavours. It is a soft moist cake with a fine texture rather than the fudgy goo I love in a cake. E said it wasn’t the moist gingerbread he loved as a child. But it tastes really good and brings to mind one of my favourite lyrics from Crowded House – ‘Can I have another piece of chocolate cake?’

Chocolate Spice Gingerbread
(from Green and Black’s Chocolate Recipes)

- 125g unsalted butter, cut into chunks
- 50g Maya Gold or other good quality dark orange chocolate, broken into pieces
- 50g dark chocolate, minimum 60%, broken into pieces
- 75g (little less than ½ half lightly packed) dark brown sugar
- 4 tbsp molasses or treacle
- 125g pitted prunes
- 175g (1 1/6 cups) plain flour
- 1 tsp bicarb soda (or baking powder)
- 2 tsp ground ginger
- 1 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1 egg, lightly beaten

Preheat oven to 160 C. Grease and line cake tin (unless you are using silicone pans which need neither greasing nor lining). The recipe recommends a 18 x 18cm tin. I used a 12 x 22cm tin.

Place butter, chocolates, sugar and molasses in a microwave proof bowl and melt in microwave (or gently melt on stovetop in a saucepan). Cool slightly while you snip prunes into pieces with scissors or roughly chop.

Add flour, bicarb and spices to chocolate mixture and stir (sifting is optional in my house). Stir well. Add egg and stir. Add prunes and stir (or fold in).

Pour mixture into prepared cake pan. Bake about 50-60 minutes til a skewer comes out clean. Cool in tin about 10 minutes and then turn out onto a wire rack to cool.

On the Stereo:
Brood: My Friend the Chocolate Cake

WTSIM...Slow Food, Tambo Salad

We went to the Slow Food City Marketplace last Saturday. It is part of the Taste of Slow Festival in Melbourne. According to Slow Food Victoria the slow food movement is more than the opposite of fast food. It is celebrating the local, the seasonal, the traditional. It is about sharing food, about food choices, about ethics. Indeed, this marketplace was full of friendly people and interesting food. It was also a visit of strange coincidences

The temporary ‘marketplace’ was a row of stalls by the river with an area set up with tables and chairs. It is always a pleasure to walk around beautiful displays of food, albeit a little overwhelming. We sampled Perry sparking pear wine from Henry of Harcourt, jams, chutneys, dried fruit, preserved lemon.

I enjoyed chatting to the stall holders. The most memorable conversation was at the CWA (Country Women’s Association) stall where I bought a comprehensive slices cookbook. We got chatting to a lovely old dear who was an avid viewer of detective television shows. She told us that she’d decided you would have to wear a space suit to commit the perfect crime to avoid leaving any DNA. She had a great sense of humour and it turned out that she had been born in the street where we live (strange coincidence 1).

There were stalls from all states of Australia. I was amazed to see dried dragonfruit on sale in the Northern Territory stall. I had only seen the fresh fruit for the first time a few weeks ago in (yes there is a photo of dragonfruit in my Darwin post – strange coincidence 2). It was purple and scaly like the wings of a dragon. The taste was less sweet than sultanas but not as tart as Australian dried apricots. Best of all was the chewy seedy texture. It is great in muesli. If they begin to sell dried dragonfruit regularly down here I will be first in queue.

One of the other stalls I enjoyed was the Culinaire (pictured). I bought some preserved lemons there and chatted about storing them (forever it seems) and was told they were easy enough to make myself (maybe one day). Best of all they sold a marvelous salad there, which I was told the ingredients were mostly from the Tambo River area of East Gipplsand. Any salad at these street festival events is quite unusual. A sublime inspirational salad is a rarity.

We sat on the rocky border of the garden and ate the salad with some of Tasmania’s Bruny Island cheese and pinot-marinated cherries and a cup of freshly made raspberry soda. (Strange coincidence 3 – on that same weekend my parents were holidaying at Bruny Island.)

I was so inspired by salad that when I was wondering what to make for the Waiter There’s Something in My … Salad, I decided I would attempt to replicate this one. It was unusual and would present an ideal opportunity to use some of my preserved lemons. I’ve never had preserved lemon before and find the bitter saltiness strangely appealing. I gather I need to rinse the salt off before using it – why didn’t anyone ever tell me this!

You can compare mine (in the blue bowl) to the photo of the one at the festival. Upon rechecking the photo, I found that I missed the roasted peppers and baby spinach but it was nevertheless such an attractive and delicious salad. The sweetness of the pumpkin and tomatoes meld perfectly with the oily lemony vinaigrette (inspired by Vikki Leng) and the bitterness of the capers and preserved lemons. We had it after my Sydney Road bakery tour (this post coming soon) so I was happy for something light to have with the bread and dip I bought home. E loved the vinaigrette and was mopping it up with his bread.

I am sending to Andrew at Spitoon Extra for this month’s WTSIM which is seasonal salads (round-up here). All the vegetables are from our local Vic Market and this is a perfect salad for autumn which starts today.

Tambo Salad with Preserved Lemon and Capers
(inspired by the Culinaire Wild Rocket salad)
Serves 2

2 handfuls of wild rocket (arugula or other greens)
125 g cherry tomatoes
250g pumpkin
Olive oil spray
1 scant tbsp preserved lemon, chopped small
1 scant tbsp capers

Vinaigrette:
2 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp good olive oil
1 tbsp apple cider
1 tsp agave nectar (or honey)
Good sprinkle of black pepper

Peel and deseed pumpkin and chop into chunks of 1 inch. Place in microwave for about 2 minutes and then scatter chunks in baking tray lined with baking paper. Spray with olive oil and roast in 180 C oven for about 25 minutes. (Alternately you can roast them in any method you are comfortable with.) Meanwhile halve cherry tomatoes and place in oven for a further 5 minutes with the pumpkin.

Make up vinaigrette by whisking all ingredients together (or shake in a sealed screwtop jar). Arrange rocket leaves around the edge of a large shallow bowl. Place warm pumpkin and cherry tomatoes in the centre and scatter with preserved lemon and capers. Drizzle vinaigrette over the top.

On the Stereo:
Music of Burns (freebie from the Scotland on Sunday): Various Artists