PPN Sausages Pasta, Garden and Global Warming

It is not yet summer and already we are suffering a sweltering heatwave. Yesterday morning I was pleased to hear my favourite radio show host Jon Faine making the point about climate change that a vegetarian in a sports car is less harmful to the environment than a meat eater on a bicycle. The talkback caller belligerently replied that he wasn’t about to stop eating meat. I wish there was more discussion about vegetarianism and climate change for people like this caller.

While I would love to live in a vegetarian world, I understand that this sort of change does not happen overnight. Incremental change is much more realistic. I think that a good start would be to encourage everyone to eat less meat. I love the idea of the Belgian town , Ghent, which is declaring every Thursday to be a vegetarian day.

But I know that there are some people who would find this idea challenging. Since I made vegetarian sausages with gluten flour, I have been experimenting with some sausage and pasta dishes. The sausages were a bit intense and rubbery when eaten alone but were fantastic in pasta dishes. It occurred to me that this is a meal I would recommend as a good way to start reducing your meat intake. If you don’t have the desire or time to make your own vegetarian sausages (you can also try a couscous and chestnut sausage or a rice and oats sausage), they are quite easy to buy in the supermarket (in Melbourne), as I did for the third dish. If you really want your meat, you could make these dishes with meat sausages but I would never recommend such a thing.

I have consciously been trying to reduce my dairy intake so I thought I would tell you about the meals in order of with cheese, with vegan cheese and then without cheese. All are quite substantial meals that can be made fairly quickly.

The Cheesy Pasta with Sausage and Veg (pictured at the top) was made with vintage cheddar cheese after a family afternoon tea. We were low in energy and surrounded by sweet leftovers. This dish took only 30 minutes to make and used up some of the scraps of ingredients around the house. It also had lots of vegetables, which we needed.

Mum had brought me some baby turnips she had found on special. I wanted to use up the cheese and, unusually, had cream in the house. I cooked both large and small pasta tubes to use up the dregs of packets. This was a very dairy-heavy dish that was delicious because the cheese was a really good one but it was a bit richer than I would prefer. I did enjoy having the sausages fried up into crispy bits that reminded me a bit of bacon.

Next I made Vegan Cheesy Pasta with Sausage and Veg. After making my vegan cheesy sandwich spread, I decided to try some of this sort of spread in a pasta sauce. The result was not particularly attractive as it looked a little curdled but it tasted good, especially with the sausages. I liked the wholemeal pasta with this one because it gave the dish a more wholesome feel. E said he enjoyed this one but it had a bit much pineapple. I stared at him in astonishment and then realised he was talking about the yellow capsicum.

For this second dish, I decided to use up the baby silverbeet or rainbow chard in my pot. My mum had given me the pot many weeks back and I had been unsure about when they were ready to pick. By the time I made this dish I decided they were well and truly past their peak but I was determined to use what I could. Homemade sausages, homemade cheese sauce, homegrown silverbeet. This made me feel like a real homemaker.

I have a before and after photo of the silverbeet in the garden. The first photo was taken soon after mum gave me the pot.

The second is taken just a few days ago. But one of the joys of a garden is the constant change. Even now it looks different. I pruned the lavendar bush yesterday and it looks like it has had a really bad haircut. Pruning is not a skill of mine but it had to be done. You can see that all the plants are drooping a little in the midst of our heatwave, except our little bay tree (is that a treelet?), which is full of new growth.

A few weeks back we also had our lemon tree full of flowers. When you think that every little flower is potentially a lemon, that is a lot of fruit. Too much for our young tree to bear.

But after our heat wave there are considerably less baby lemons still hanging in there. Fortunately there are still quite a few little ones that might become lemons we can use.

We even have a few little baby limes on our lime tree though I will be surprised if any of them become adult limes as they have an even tougher time than the lemons. I am just glad to see our lime tree doing well as it has always been the less healthy of our two citrus trees.

But enough of our stroll around the garden. Back to the pasta. The third dish to share is a Pasta with Sausage and Lentils. I made it a few nights back after a hot and busy day. I had been inspired by Cindy’s comment about the homemade sausages being good in Red Wine Lentils. It seemed like a good rich pasta sauce. But on the night in question, rich and heavy were not at all what I needed. I decided to make something that was far more like a warm pasta salad.

I chopped up all the vegetables, put the pasta on and dumped the lentils in a colander to rinse. All afternoon I had had a headache and suddenly I got a lot worse and had to lie on the couch. It was so simple to make that I could just tell E what to do to finish it off. By the time he was eating it, I had gone to bed. So the resulting dinner was considerably plainer than I had planned. This was a good thing when I needed to eat a little something later in the night.

When we had leftovers the next day, I added a few things I had planned to add the previous day and served it with a VT carrot, cranberry and walnut salad. It tasted lovely and I wished I had a more appealing photo to share but the lentils make it look all sludgy. Don’t be fooled by the messy picture, pasta and sausage is just the thing for a hot November night. And if you use vegetarian sausages just maybe you can help keep the heat down a little.

I am sending my sausage pasta dishes to Kait of Pots and Plots for this week's Presto Pasta Night (#139), an event founded by Ruth of Once Upon a Feast.

Vegetarian sausage cheese and veg pasta
Serves 3-4

• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 onion, thinly sliced
• 2 sausages, diced
• 2 medium carrots, julienned
• bunch baby turnips, diced
• 2 garlic cloves, sliced
• 1 head of broccoli, diced
• ½ bunch parsley, chopped
• 100g vintage cheddar cheese, grated
• 3 tbsp cream
• 200g dried pasta
• black pepper

Heat the oil in a large frypan. Fry onion, sausages, carrots, turnips and garlic for about 15 minutes on medium heat. At this point I had to turn it off and feed Sylvia but I think you could just keep on going. Add broccoli and fry over medium heat for another 15 minutes until broccoli is soft. While broccoli is frying, cook the pasta in salted water as per directions on the packet. Check vegetables are cooked and take the frypan off the heat. Add cheese, cream, drained pasta and black pepper. Toss to mix it all up and serve warm.

Vegan sausage, cheese and veg pasta
Serves 3-4

• 250g dried wholemeal pasta
• 2 fat vegan spicy sausages, chopped
• 1 carrot
• 2 tbsp olive oil, divided
• 2 spring onions
• 1 yellow capsicum, diced
• 1 small bunch asparagus, chopped small
• small handful baby silverbeet (or spinach), chopped
• 125g grape tomatoes, halved (I would do more of these next time)

Cheese sauce

• 125g tofu
• 2 tbsp nutritional yeast flakes
• 1 tbsp tahini
• 1 tbsp mayonnaise
• 1 tsp mustard
• juice of ½ very small lemon
• 1½ tbsp pesto

Fry the sausages and carrots in 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a large frying pan for about 15 minutes over medium heat.

While these are frying cook the pasta in salted water as instructed on the packet and make the cheese sauce by mixing all ingredients together.

Add spring onions, capsicum, asparagus, and 1 tablespoon of olive oil to the sausage mixture and stir fry over low heat for about 8-7 minutes until just cooked but still a bit crunchy. Turn off the heat and stir in the baby silverbeet and tomatoes so they warm through. Stir in drained pasta and cheese sauce.

Warm sausage and lentil salad
Serves 3-4

• 1 packet of 6 small sausages
• 250g dried pasta
• 2 tomatoes, chopped
• 2 spring onions, finely chopped
• ½ red pepper, finely chopped
• 1 bunch asparagus, chopped
• 400g tin of brown lentils, drained and rinsed
• 1 generous handful baby spinach, chopped
• 1 small handful parsley, finely chopped
• 2 tblsp olive oil
• 1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
• 1 small clove of garlic, finely chopped
• dash of cayenne pepper

Cook sausages under the grill (broiler). Cook pasta in salted water in a large saucepan as directed on the packet. While pasta and sausages are cooking, chop the vegetables. When pasta is cooked, drain and add remaining ingredients to the pasta saucepan which will still be hot. Stir until vegetables are warmed through – a few minutes. Chop sausages and add to vegetable mixture. Add pasta and toss together. Serve warm.

On the stereo:
Love Dreams: his 16 most beautiful melodies: Francis Lai

NCR Carrot, Chestnut and Lentil Soup

I strolled down to Sydney Road, Brunswick last week and hit the shops before it became too hot for such walks. I returned home with a swag of goodies. Most exciting and intriguing were a packet of dried chestnuts from The Mediterranean Supermarket and a bunch of purple carrots from La Manna Fresh.

If only I had these carrots for my purple post but it was not to be. Prior to my delight at discovering this bunch, purple carrots were as elusive as the Scarlet Pimpernel. I have envied other bloggers their multi-coloured carrots but never considered that I might be lucky enough to find them for a reasonable price at a local fruit and veg shop.

Purple carrots are a rare pleasure but it did make me wonder, if the Dutch had not been so patriotic about breeding carrots to pay homage to the House of Orange, might we take purple carrots for granted today just as we do with the common orange ones. Or maybe we would have both. Don’t they look lovely together.

Serendipitously, Lisa had asked for root vegetable soups or salads in November for No Croutons Required, the monthly blog even she holds with Jacqueline. I knew this was an opportunity to show off my lovely purple carrots. The chestnuts were also beckoning. So I set my sights on a carrot and chestnut soup. Carrots are in many of my soups, though as background rather than featuring but chestnuts are still a bit of a mystery to me.

I set off in search of ideas about using dried chestnuts. Ilva in Italy seems to use them a lot – for example in her Chestnut, Rosemary and Parmesan filled Brussels Sprouts. I was pleased to see that Clotilde had a recipe for Carrot and Chestnut Soup. It seemed like I had the right idea. But I wanted something a bit more chunky with rice. Both Kevin and Sophie combined their chestnuts with lentils (oh and I had even tried the combination). So when I found some puy lentils in the back of the pantry, I threw them in.

The chestnuts did not look at all attractive. In fact, they reminded me of creepy brains. It would have been helpful to have instructions for cooking them on the packet. I thought they wouldn’t take too long once soaked, based on what I read on the net, but they took forever. Well after almost one and a half hours I wasn’t sure that they were cooked. But I just wasn’t sure what they were meant to taste like. Finally, I was hungry, so in frustration, I decided just to blend the soup.

I served dinner to E with trepidation, not expecting him to like it. It was a deep purple colour and quite thick and chunky. To my surprise, he loved it. It was very rich and sweet, despite quite generous seasoning. It was good but full of unusual flavours and textures that I couldn’t quite name.

It needed something. I sprinkled parsley over it but it needed something else to lighten it. I didn’t have any parmesan and if I had had more energy I would have tried making Philippa’s parasalmond (ground almonds, nutritional yeast, salt and sesame seeds). The next day I bought some yoghurt and it gave the lift it needed. Makes me think that maybe some lemon juice might have also helped. We ate it with salad over a couple of nights and it was great with lots of vegetables.

Overall, the soup was a success, albeit a little odd. I now have most of the bag of dried chestnuts to play with, if only I could be certain when they were cooked. More experiments await. I hope more purple carrots also lie ahead too.

Carrot, Chestnut and Lentil Soup
Serves 6

• 100g dried chestnuts, soaked overnight
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 onion, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 1 litre vegetable stock
• ¾ cup white wine
• 1 litre water
• 1 tsp salt
• 10g dried porcini, chopped
• 750g carrots, diced
• ½ cup brown rice
• ½ cup puy lentils
• 5-6 button mushrooms, chopped

To serve:

• yoghurt
• parsley, chopped
• black pepper

Fry the onion in olive oil for about 5 minutes in a large stockpot. Meanwhile drain the chestnuts and remove any brown bits of shell. Roughly chop the chestnuts.

Add the chestnuts, garlic, stock, wine, water, salt and porcini to the onions. Bring to the boil and simmer for at least 20 minutes. Add the carrots, rice, lentils, and mushrooms. Bring to the boil and simmer for about an hour or till rice, lentils and chestnuts are soft.

Blend and check seasoning. Add a little more water to thin a little if it is too thick. (I found I needed more water when reheating leftovers.) Ladle into bowls and top with yoghurt, parsley and black pepper.

On the Stereo:
The best of Jack Jones

The Wall, Rose Petals and Biscuits

It was the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall yesterday. I was not really interested in politics when it came down in 1989 so it wasn’t a huge event in my life. But I did visit Berlin in 1998 and viewed the remains of the wall including the wonderful “graffiti” on the East Side Gallery. So to celebrate the anniversary, I have a special photo of the weekend’s biscuits with one of my travel pictures and my tacky souvenir of a little bottle of rubble from the wall.

While the world was remembering the fall of the wall, my family celebrated my brother, Dave’s birthday. I went down to Geelong on the weekend for a barbecue and cake. I took down some pink heart-shaped biscuits, which are not really suitable for a boy’s birthday, but I had a yen to try them. They gave Dave a smile anyway.

I saw the cut out biscuits recipe on Cakelaw’s blog a few weeks back and bookmarked it. She used lavender, which I want to try. Then soon after she made the recipe again with rose petals. It was perfect timing as I was looking for ideas for some rose petals I had just purchased. At the same time I bought some beetroot powder and decided to try making the biscuits pink with it.

They are part of the amazing Herbies spices range that I found at Two Prickly Pears in Lygon Street. When I opened the rose petals the heady aroma took me back to my childhood. I am not sure why. Possibly because we would attempt to make perfumes with petals from the garden. I hoped the scent would remain in the biscuits but was not as strong once baked with the more dominant orange zest. The beetroot powder surprised me with a strong smell of beetroot but I was glad that this smell didn’t remain with the baking.

I decided to bake these biscuits at 10.30 on the night before going to my parents’ place. I was filled with foreboding and feared I would regret this as I have had a few baking spells late at night when I am waiting for something to come out of the oven and I just want to go to bed. But these biscuits were a cinch. Cakelaw put her dough in the fridge to chill and warned that the dough was so soft that it needed to be handled quickly and carefully. I didn’t chill the dough and found it quite easy to handle. It helped that I rolled it out on baking paper but I hardly used any flour. I was finished by 11.30, even with having to settle Sylvia during baking.

The dough might have been softer for Cakelaw because she is in Brisbane, which is hotter than Melbourne was on Friday (though I might need to chill the dough if baking it today with temperature at 34 C). She might have also found it harder to handle because she used larger cookie cutters. I decided to use heart shaped cookie cutters because they seemed appropriate for pink rose biscuits but you should check out Cakelaw’s gorgeous biscuit shapes – baby bottles, prams, ballgowns and shoes.

We loved these biscuits in our house. E was very impressed. They were a bit like pretty shortbreads – pink, very soft and buttery with a subtle fragrance and studded with the odd rose petal. I was impressed that they stayed pink. I was a bit unsure of the beetroot powder and didn’t use much, partly because I was worried it would flavour the biscuits but I think I will try using more next time. One reason I bought it was that it seems a more natural way to colour food than the usual chemical-filled pink food colouring.

After the barbecue on the weekend, we had a birthday cake for Dave. My mum had made a sponge cake with cream in it. As usual, she couldn’t resist making a few other treats. We were all amazed at her take on gluten free jelly slice. This is a favourite of my childhood, which I rarely have now because I have not come across a gelatine-free version (but I must try one with agar agar). It had well cooked Aunty Kath’s choc chip cookies and butter on the base, condensed milk, cream cheese and lemon in the middle layer and jelly on top. She made delicious little caramel tarts with gingernut crusts and some caramelised leftover condensed milk. My pink hearts joined the spread and were appreciated but too many in the family are on diets that don’t allow such food.

E was poorly and stayed at home but Sylvia and I had a nice time. She loved the swing in the yard and played with Cooper – when he wasn’t sucking on the door. My dad set up a tent in the backyard for my nieces who had lots of fun playing in it. I was amused to hear about 4 year old Ella discovering the origin of meat last week. She asked about the pork they were eating. When told it was a pig’s leg, she was asking about the pig who only had three legs. No, it was killed, she was told. Ella then quite cheerfully went around telling people about the dead pig! I was surprised she wasn’t that upset but at least she knows where her food comes from.

As for the rose petal biscuits, you only have to look around my parents’ garden to see where they come from. It is a blaze of colourful roses, although they are starting to feel the heat. Biscuits from the kitchen and roses from the garden are simple pleasures I highly recommend.

Orange and Rose Petal Biscuits
Makes about 36 small biscuits
From Cakelaw

125g butter at room temperature (I used margarine)
55g sugar
1 egg yolk
2 teaspoons orange zest (of about half an orange)
150g plain flour
60g almond meal
35g cornflour (cornstarch)
1 tablespoon dried rose petals, chopped (or lavender)
½ tsp beetroot powder (optional)

Mix butter, orange zest, sugar and the egg yolk in a large mixing bowl. Add remaining ingredients and mix till it comes together into a dough. At this point, Cakelaw flattened hers between two sheets of baking paper and put it in the fridge for 30 minutes but I didn’t and my dough was ok to handle. Briefly knead dough into a smooth ball.

Preheat oven to 180 C and line two baking trays with baking paper or silicone mats. Roll out dough on a sheet of baking paper to about 5mm thick. Cut shapes and transfer to prepared trays with a little room between – but the biscuits hardly spread. Bake for about 12 minutes or until just starting to turn golden brown. Remove from oven and cool on the trays.

Turn the dough out onto a floured work surface and knead until smooth. Flatten the dough with the palm of your hand, and place between two large pieces of baking paper. Roll the dough out with a rolling pin to a thickness of approximately 5mm. Roll out dough on baking paper and cut shapes – transfer to prepared trays.

On the Stereo:
The Velvet Underground and Nico

PPN Pasta Salad

It is hot. It is the hottest November week in Melbourne on record since 1902. Today was a high of 35 C. It was still 24 C at midnight! Too hot. I'm hot and sweaty even as midnight approaches.

At 11am it was 28 C so I made dodgy banana berry muffins like these but using some baby oat flour as well as quinoa flour before it got any hotter. They weren’t great but I wanted to use up some bananas and Sylvia’s oat cereal that she is not eating. I cut up fruit to make a fruit salad a bit like this to have on hand. It is wonderfully refreshing. Less refreshing but oh so moreish is a new (and now melty) cashew and cherry chocolate I spied at the supermarket yesterday.

Sylvia and I have been drinking lots of fluids, eating watermelon, and dozing on the bed together. Not good weather for my baby or my cat. I would prefer to be in an air-conditioned office when it is so hot.

It is days like these I feel regret that we can’t run under a sprinkler outside. Sprinklers are outlawed in our drought and even if they weren’t, we don’t go outside in such heat because sunshine on a day like this means sunburn means skin cancer. Oh for those innocent summers of childhood. We lay in bed on hot nights and hoped mum would put the sprinkler close enough to the open window that drops of water would cool us down.

This is salad weather. I’ve been making lots and eating lots of simple salads. On the weekend I had a barbecue at my parents’ house with lots of lovely salads. Rice salad. Garden salad. Colesaw.

Last night I made pasta salad. I ate it again for lunch. Pasta salad can be heavy with too much pasta and/or too much creamy dressing. This one was just right with lots of vegetables so I am sharing what I did.

I am sending this salad to Chaya of Sweet and Savoury Says it All, who is hosting this week's s Presto Pasta Night (#139), an event founded by Ruth of Once Upon a Feast.

Pesto Pasta Salad
Serves 2-3

• 200g pasta – a bit less than a dessert bowl
• ½ cucumber, diced
• 1 carrot, grated
• 2 tomatoes, chopped
• 2 spring onions, thinly sliced
• handful parsley, finely chopped
• handful snow peas, chopped
• 1 bunch asparagus, chopped
• 2 dessertspoons yoghurt
• 1 dessertspoon mayonnaise
• 1 dessertspoon pesto

Cook the pasta in salted water according to the instructions on the packet. Meanwhile chop vegetables and put into large salad bowl, setting asparagus aside. Just before turning off heat on pasta, add asparagus. Drain and rinse under cold water. Toss with vegetables, yoghurt, mayonnaise and pesto.

On the Stereo:
This is My Life: Shirley Bassey

Grasping the nettle (soup)

I was excited when AOF said she had nettles up for grabs (so to speak) and, once we found a time, headed over with Sylvia to drink peppermint tea, eat muffins and take away a bag of nettles. I was scared too. I haven’t seen nettles since I was warned away from them as a child. Deciding to cook with nettles feels a little brave and a little foolish.

I felt a little foolish when I realized I had on a t-shirt and washing up gloves, leaving much of my arms bare, and I also had bare feet. I was worried that everything the nettles touched might take on the sting. So I checked the internet. All the information about the sting says it comes from the stinging hairs attached to the leaf but nothing says they will or wont attach to taps or utensils or or my camera or babies. I also wondered if all the seeds would be carried by the wind when I took the branches outside and seed in my pot plants.

Despite my paranoia, it was only after preparing the nettles that I looked up the internet to find out about remedies for stings. Many are found around the house. Rosemary, dock, yarrow and sage leaves can help. Folk remedies for the relief of sting from a nettle include mud, saliva, or baking soda, oil and onions. Even nettle juice can take away the sting of nettles. My mum says they used to use blue bags (the little bags that used to make the laundry white) for stings. Fortunately I had no stings to remedy. But my search did get me intrigued about the history and culture of the nettle.

History of Nettles

Nettles have long been part of human history. There are quite a few varieties so I don't know which ones we have in Australia. Though often feared and hated as a bothersome weed, it seems there are few medical problems they can’t fix. Nettles can make hair glossy; ease eczema; treat arthritis, anemia, hay fever, kidney problems, scurvy, worms, and pain; be sniffed to stop a nosebleed; be used as a gargle for throat and mouth infections; reduce blood pressure; drunk as a muscle relaxant during child birth; and act as an antidote to venomous stings from animals. Nettles are said to taste a little like spinach – but have twice as much iron – (but you will find some who find they tastes like an Irish sweater) and have been traditionally cooked in soup, beer, tea, pudding and other dishes.

There are reports of the use of a nettle infusion in ancient Egypt. Roman soldiers are said to have taken their own nettles to Britain to treat tired and painful legs on long marches by urtification – or the practice of flogging with the fresh nettle plant – to stimulate circulation in the cold and wet climate. Hippocrates and his supporters had remedies using nettles.

Not only do nettles have medicinal and culinary uses but they make a fine cloth or twine. The earliest sign of nettles is the discovery in Denmark of burial shrouds dating back to the Bronze Age (3000-2000 BC). The plant has been used as a source of green dye. During World War I the German army used nettles as a substitute for cotton and for making soldiers’ uniforms. In World War II the British Government collected 100 tonnes of nettles to use for green dye for camouflage.

Nettles in Folklore

Bruce Burnett says that “the common stinging nettle has long been used as a protective herb. A vase of freshly cut nettles under a sickbed is supposed to help the patient recover from whatever is ailing him or her. Nettles sprinkled around the house will ward off evil. Nettles tossed on to a fire will avert danger and carried by hand will fend off ghosts. When carried with yarrow, nettles will bestow courage. In ancient Ireland, nettles were known as “The Devil’s Apron.” In Southern England they were known as “the Naughty Man’s Plaything”, where the Naughty Man referred to the Devil.

In Norse mythology the god of thunder is often represented by nettles and burning them on the fire or carrying them in your pocket (depending on which website you read) will protect you from lightning. In Denmark the sting of the nettle was supposed to ward off sorcery. Folklore also tells us that nettles will enhance fertility in men, pulling up a nettle by the roots while reciting the names of a sick person and their family would to cure a fever, and to dream of nettles is an omen of stringent circumstances and disobedient children or servants.

Rheumatics had nettles added to their bedding as a cure. If you wanted to keep rheumatism away (for prevention is better than cure) an Irish custom was to drink nettle soup three times in May starting on the first of the month. It was the responsibility of young children to collect nettles and there are accounts of them chasing each other with the leaves. Ouch!

An English rhyme advises “Tender-handed, stroke a nettle, / And it stings you for your pains. / Grasp it like a man of mettle, / And it soft as silk remains.” Curiously, 17th century herbalist and apothecary, Nicholas Culpeper is reputed to have said 'Nettles may be found by feeling for them in the darkest night'. Yann Lovelock records a few other sayings about nettles in his Vegetable Book:

• He that handles a nettles tenderly is soonest stung.
• It is better to be stung by a nettle than pricked by a rose.
• If thy wad drink nettles in March / And eat muggings (mugwort) in May / Sae mony braw maidens / Wad go to the clay.

I think the last means that eating nettles in Spring would prevent the deaths of beautiful girls. Although according to folklore that Colin Spencer refers to in The Heretics Feast, it might be the deaths of gorgeous maidens feeding the nettles, given the belief in Denmark that nettles grow from the shedding of innocent blood. He points out that nettles are a sign of human habitation because they thrive on the toxic wastes of living creatures. It is said that in the Scottish Highlands, crofts abandoned after the Highland Clearances are full of nettles.

Wikipedia tells us that Milarepa, the great Tibetan ascetic and saint, was reputed to have survived his decades of solitary meditation by subsisting on nothing but nettles; his hair and skin turned green and he lived to the age of 83. He is known as the Green god.

Nettles in Literature

Nettles are referred to by some of the giants of the literary canon. In the Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale, The Princess and the Eleven Swans (also known as The Wild Swans), the coats the princess made to save her brothers were woven from nettles. Pepys wrote in his diary of having eaten ‘...some nettle porridge, which was very good’. And Shakespeare has Hotspur say in Henry IV (1:II:3) “out of this nettle (danger) we grasp this flower (safety)”, which seems to be the origin of the saying to grasp the nettle, meaning to face up to or take on a problem.

Nettles and the English

Herbal Legacy says that “the English poet, Campbell” (though I can’t find his full name) complained of little attention being paid to nettles in England – “In Scotland, I have eaten nettles, I have slept in nettle sheets, and I have dined off a nettle tablecloth.” Though it seems some were aware of the benefits of nettles. English poet, John Byrom, in 1728 wrote to his wife in Manchester, “I am fain to keep to my bed all day for this disorder, which, when I stir, troubles me; I am got to sack whey, nettle broth &c”

Today the English seem to have a fine appreciation for nettles. An annual Stinging Nettle Eating Championship is a popular event in Dorset. Contestants attempt to eat as much of the raw plant as possible. Whoever strips and eats the most stinging nettle leaves in a fixed time is the winner. The competition dates back to 1986, when two neighbouring farmers attempted to settle a dispute about who was responsible for controlling the weed. England also had a Be Nice to Nettles Week each year.

English band the Arctic Monkeys have a song called The Nettles. Stephen Nettles (fl. 1595-1647) was an English clergyman and controversialist from Shropshire. Possibly the most famous Nettles in England is John Nettles who stars as the detective in Midsomer Murders and gives murderers a sting of another kind.

Nettle Soup

Nettles can be used in a variety of recipes, such as polenta and pesto but the most common seems to be nettle soup (also known as "Brændnældesuppe" in Danish, "Nässelsoppa" in Swedish and "Nokkoskeitto" in Finnish). AOF helpfully advised me on handling the nettles and suggested I look at Lucy’s Nettle Soup recipe. While I do not have the elegant simplicity of Lucy, I love her cooking and turned to see what she had done.

It took me a few days to approach the challenge. By then, the nettles needed using or they would be heading for the bin. The bulk of the work seemed to be in picking the nettle leaves off the stalks, which took quite some time. AOF’s nettles were older and I am not sure if you would need to do this work with younger nettles. I had to clear lots of room on the sink for the work. On one side of the sink were a tangle of nettles, in the sink I dropped the leaves in the sink and the stalks in my large roasting dish on the other side. Midway through, Sylvia needed a feed. Poor little blog orphan!

Once the nettles were ready for cooking, the soup was quick and easy. I realized that my pasta insert for my stockpot was a good way to blanch the nettles with minimum handling. It didn't seem to produce a lot of nettles for my troubles but I guess that is the way of greens when wilted. I changed the recipe a bit, adding stock for more flavour, throwing in some of Sylvia’s baby puree of potato, asparagus and zucchini, and using soy milk rather than cream. I wrote out my version of the recipe below.

It made a thin velvety green soup, which Lucy described as grassy. I was pleasantly surprised at how good it tasted. Dinner was punctuated by questions like ‘so what do you think?’ and ‘can you taste the nettles?’ E is not normally a fan of thin soups but loved this one. We had it for a few nights and I enjoyed it for lunches too. I just couldn’t be sure how much I could taste the nettles and how much was just the silverbeet. Nevertheless I hope this is not my only culinary brush with the stinging nettle.

Other Nettle Recipes:

• Nettle Pesto – Real Epicure
• Nettle Soup – Chocolate and Zucchini
• Nettle Temptation – Tofu for Two
• Nettle Tortilla – Confessions of a Food Nazi
• Rice with Nettles – Israeli Kitchen
• Stinging Nettle Fritters – Palachinka
• Stinging Nettle Pate – Small Footprint Family

For more information on nettles:

• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stinging_nettle
• http://www.herballegacy.com/Vance_History.html
• http://www.nettles.org.uk/
• http://www.gardenwiseonline.ca/gw/plants/2009/05/08/stinging-nettle-history-and-uses
• http://www.naturalhealthcourses.com/Reading_Room/Nettles_Weeds_Wonders.htm

I am sending this to Haalo of Cook (Almost) Anything … At Least Once who is hosting the fourth anniversary of Weekend Herb Blogging. This is a great blog event to focus on vegetables, fruit, herbs and flowers in cooking. It was started by Kalyn of Kalyn’s Kitchen and is now coordinated wonderfully by Haalo.

Nettle and Silverbeet Soup
Adapted from Nourish Me
Serves 6-8 (ie a lot)

• 1 carrier bag of nettles
• 2 tbsp margarine
• 2 small onions , chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, chopped
• 4 kipfler potatoes, chopped
• 4 cups vegetable stock
• 1 litre water
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 large bunch of silverbeet (chard), roughly chopped
• Puree of 1 potato, ½ bunch asparagus, 1 zucchini (optional)
• ½ cup soy milk (or other milk)

Firstly, wearing rubber gloves, carefully strip the nettles from the stalks, trying to avoid skin contact. Dunk in boiling water for about 30 minutes, then run under cold water. Fry onions in margarine for about 5 minutes. Add remaining ingredients except soy milk, bring to the boil and simmer, covered, for about 12 minutes or until the potato is soft. Add soy milk and blend to a smooth grassy green puree.

On the Stereo
Nite Flights: The Walker Brothers

Recreating Pad Thai

Every now and again I feel the need to recreate a meal I love eating in restaurants but am intimidated about making at home. Pad Thai is just such one of these dishes. I love it with the flat noodles, chunks of tofu, crunch of peanuts and fresh bean sprouts. Making it at home had the advantage of being able to make it my way. Lots of vegetables and no egg.

I decided to try it a few weeks back. I bought the tamarind paste and bean sprouts which are not usually in my kitchen. I searched recipes. I found Pim’s sage advice via Nupur. Pim takes your hand and walks you thought the elements of Pad Thai with lots of tips and chats about the sour, salty, sweet and chilli flavours. She is into her meat and seafood so I turned to Andrea’s Easy Vegan Cooking for a vegan recipe full of tofu and vegetables.

My first attempt was not quite right. I was intimidated enough to prepare everything before I started. The sourness of the gloopy tamarind paste gave the right flavour but the chillis weren’t hot enough and the long life soft noodles were too few and too soft. But I know I was close.

This week I returned to Project Pad Thai. I bought dried noodles which worked better – other than when I tipped them down the sink by accident when trying to drain them and had to scoop them up. I was amused to see the brand was Pandaroo and I thought the packaging was cute. The red chilli I bought gave a pleasing warm tingle, which is all I want given that I am a chilli wimp. I also added more tofu because I felt the first attempt was lacking a little there.

The ingredient, other than tamarind, that really challenged me was palm sugar. It is something that I have never seen before and didn’t really know what it was. I looked in small ethnic supermarkets without luck and then found it in the large local supermarket. It came in lumps that reminded me of sugar lumps but it was more sandy and together. I have seen that you can grate or chop it so I chopped it into small pieces and mixed it into the marinade where I think it dissolved. I am not sure it made the marinade very different to agave syrup that I used the first time. Now I have a box of palm sugar to use but I guess I can substitute it for regular sugar in baking. In future I probably wouldn’t bother buying it but I think tamarind is important to the flavour.

The second time I made the Pad Thai it was much better. The noodles and tofu seemed right and I loved all the vegetables. I forgot the lime wedges but we weren’t too bothered because last time E overdid the lime juice on his. I think bean sprouts are necessary but I hate having to buy a whole packet in a plastic bag when I only want a handful, especially as E doesn’t like them. As for fresh coriander, I avoid it and tried both basil and parsley which are ok but if you can stomach coriander it is probably more authentic.

I am pleased with the below version of the recipe. There was a little marinade leftover but Pim says it is better to have too much than too little and she advises that it can be kept in the fridge for next time. I recommend keeping it rather than tipping it all in as the noodles should be just coated with no sauce sloshing around. The preparation is very important as there is very little cooking involved. I quite enjoyed the slight crunch in the vegetables but make sure they are chopped into thin matchstick pieces.

Some of you will make Pad Thai without much fuss or sweat. But if you want help in making a good vegan one I suggest checking out Pim’s advice and I hope this post will also help. We are not going out for dinner very much at the moment and it is a small consolation to be able to have a favourite restaurant meal at home. I will be returning to this recipe and hope that eventually I will be more relaxed about it. It really isn't that difficult!

Vegetarian Pad Thai
Inspired by Pim
Serves 4

• 500g firm tofu, diced
• 200g dried rice stick noodles
• 2 tbsp oil
• 2 carrots, chopped in matchsticks
• 1/2 red capsicum, chopped in matchsticks
  
• 1 bunch asparagus, chopped in matchsticks
• 1 handful snow peas, chopped in matchsticks
• 3 spring onions, thinly slice vertically
• 10 button mushrooms, sliced

Marinade:

• 3 tbsp tamarind paste
• 3 tbsp tamari
• 1 tbsp kecap manis
• 2 tbsp chopped palm sugar
• 1 red chilli, finely chopped, or to taste
• 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

To serve:

• handful peanuts, chopped
• couple of handfuls of sprouts
• small handful of coriander (or basil or parsley)
• lime wedges to serve

Mix all the marinade ingredients together in a medium bowl and taste to check the flavours balance together. Toss tofu chunks in it so they are covered. Marinate for at least 30 minutes. You will probably need this time to prepare the vegetables if you cut at the same rate as me.

Now pour boiling water over noodles and leave for 20 minutes, then rinse under cold water.

While tofu and noodles are set aside, chop the vegetables. Then heat oil in a wok or large frying pan over medium heat. Use a spoon or fork to remove the tofu from the marinade. Stir fry tofu, carrot and mushrooms for about 4 minutes. (If you want to have leftovers, you can make up to this point but I found that the noodles were not great the next day.) Add noodles, asparagus, snow peas, spring onion and enough of the extra sauce to coat everything and stir fry for 1-2 minutes. Put any leftover marinade in fridge for another time.

To serve spoon some noodle mixture into a bowl. You can serve on a table with bowls of bean sprouts, peanuts, coriander and lime wedges for everyone to help themselves or you can arrange these on top of each bowlful.

On the Stereo:
At First Sight, Violets are Blue: The Stems

The Cornbread that Stops a Nation

There are rumours that it wasn’t my cornbread that stopped the nation at 3pm on the first Tuesday in November this year. Some say it was a horse race not cornbread. However I am sure a marvellous cornbread is far more likely to bring a nation to a standstill than a horse race, even the Melbourne Cup.

I have been making cornbread for many years and have tried lots of recipes. Some good, some bad. I have made a few unusual cornbread recipes since starting this blog but no plain old common garden cornbreads. My problem is that when I want a cornbread, I have to trawl through all my recipes to find a good one.

I decided to find a good basic recipe and post it so next time I can turn to the blog. I have had some terribly dry cornbreads in the past, mainly due to too much cornmeal. A reasonable amount of wheat flour gives that lightness that balances the heavy cornmeal. I also love buttermilk or yoghurt and creamed corn to keep it moist and soft. So I searched for just such a recipe and then added cheese and parsley, which I love in cornbread for extra colour and flavour.

This recipe was easy and delicious and could be adapted to preferences. The cheese can be omitted or you could add chives instead of parsley or spice it up with some chillis. Corn kernels could be substituted for the creamed corn but you may need a little sugar or sweetener. This was just the cornbread recipe I had been seeking. It was hard not to eat all the bread fresh out of the oven but fortunately there was a lot of it.

I baked it this week on Cup Day. The Melbourne Cup might be a big deal in Australia, especially for those who get the public holiday and spend a day at the races filled with frocks, fascinators and many a flutter. At our house cornbread is more important. At 3pm when the horses sprinted out of the starting blocks, we sat down to watch with a satisfying, albeit late, lunch of cornbread, salad and strawberry, watermelon and apple juice.

I had cornbread left yesterday to take to meet up with my sister, Fran. Originally it was to be a lunch date but she had a working lunch and Sylvia is easier to feed at home. We met at 2pm for a quick catch up and I meant to eat beforehand but it took so long to feed Sylvia that I only had time to get mine together and rush out the door. I ate it outside in a park chatting to Fran, watching Sylvia play on her rug and surrounded by tennis courts and avenues of spooky trees.

My cornbread was great with salad. It was still soft and delicious the day after baking it. I am looking forward to serving this cornbread with chilli non carne or soup. I would like to believe the nation stopped this year as much for my cornbread as for the race. It is that good. Just ask the dinosaurs!

Cheesy cornbread
Adapted from about.com

• 4 tablespoons butter, melted
• 1 cup buttermilk or yoghurt
• 3 large eggs
• 400g tin of creamed corn
• 125g grated tasty cheese
• ¼ cup chopped parsley (handful)
• 1½ cups yellow cornmeal
• 1 cup plain white flour
• ½ cup plain wholemeal flour
• 3 teaspoons baking powder
• ½ teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
• 1 teaspoon salt

Grease and line a 22cm or 9 inch square cake tin. Heat oven to 220 C or 425 F. Melt butter in the microwave in a microwave proof bowl or on the stovetop in a large saucepan. Add buttermilk or yoghurt, eggs, creamed corn, cheese and parsley. Mix with a fork. Add remaining ingredients and mix till just combined. Spoon into prepared tin. Bake for 20-30 minutes (it took me 30 minutes) until golden brown and cornbread springs back when lightly touched with a finger. Cool 5 minutes and then turn out on a wire rack to cool completely.

On the Stereo:
A Secret History: the Best of the Divine Comedy – The Divine Comedy