ice blocks three ways

Icy poles, Popsicles, ice lollies, iceblocks…call them what you like. But as the thermometer rises through the 30’s and tips over into 40plusridiculousdegresscelcius, something cooling and delicious is much appreciated.

The top three icy treats in my freezer this summer have been:

1. The coolest kid on the block 

Uber-healthy and refreshingly savoury.

3 apples (or 2 cups pure apple juice)

1 large Lebanese cucumber

1 lemon, skin and pith removed (or the juice of 1 lemon)

Handful of fresh mint

Depending on your equipment, there are two easy ways to make these ice blocks. Either put all ingredients through a juicer, or substitute fresh apples for apple juice and combine the ingredients in a food processor or blender. The blended ones have more texture than the pure juice.

Juice or whiz ingredients together, pour into moulds and freeze.

2. Minty-mango

Heaven on a stick.

1 mango, flesh

1 orange, juice

1 lime, juice

Handful of fresh mint, chopped

Mash the mango and combine with the citrus juice and mint.

Pour into moulds and freeze.

1. Queensland special

Where both pineapple and sugar are a natural part of life.

Half a large pineapple, juiced

Equal quantity of simple sugar syrup (1 part sugar: 1 part water)

Juice of 1 lemon or lime.

Combine, mould, freeze.

The mango is my favourite and I can’t get enough of them on these warm evenings. If food-related guilt is your thing, these ice blocks have none of it.

Surprisingly the Significant Eater, Mr Health Himself and Born Again Vegan, disliked the healthiest ones and named the Queensland special his favourite.

But I’m sticking to the pure fruit variety, for as long as the cheap mangoes last.   

quick update from the trenches

There’s been some cooking

Accidental sorrel soup.

How to turn an average end-of-the-week-leftover-veggie soup into a stellar meal? Just add a handful of sorrel and blend. The base combo of alliums/cauliflower/zucchini/potato simmered in stock got the zing it needed when blended with the lemony green herb. A little goes a long way.

Oranges are not the only fruit.

But certainly the most abundant one in our house at the moment due to the arrival of two boxes of home-grown citrus. A batch of orange and spice vegan truffles were scoffed with alarming speed and with zest added to every conceivable dish, the fridge is full of lemons and oranges devested of their skin. As always, there’s large batch of preserved lemons on the go.

Quinoa for breakfast and dinner.

Cooked in orange and ginger juice. A superb breakfast that can be dolled up with a drizzle of maple syrup and some toasted almonds for a deceptively healthy dessert.

Speaking of dessert.

You know I’m not the queen of cooked desserts, right? But my oh my, I had a brilliant idea and minutes later dessert gyozas were on the table. I’d call them a work in progress but really they’re so simple they don’t need work. Three batches down I can’t stop long enough to photograph them before they’re gone. Will share soon, blogging mojo willing.

What’s rocking your kitchen?

random photos of food: June 2012

Am alive and more or less well (post gastro-from-hell, cold and lingering-grief). 

Proof of life.

 vegan cupcake yum at Fitzroy market (instagram)

 persimmons, fejoias, apples and citrus (instagram)

 proof the baked eggs with chard at Small Victories were victorious (instagram)

another week, another winter fruit bowl shot

Chin Chin's spectacular sardines with amazing eggplant relish

raw fruit pie

The vegan summer* continues. As it’s been an unusual month, throwing my blogging mojo way off centre, excuse me starting in the middle rather than the beginning of the journey.

As a student for four years in my 20’s, most of what I cooked was vegan by default. All the shared houses were nominally vegetarian (what we ate outside of home varied somewhat). There was the odd egg but the sparse kitty could rarely stretch to seafood.

Recently I unearthed my hand written recipe collection from that time and revisited what I used to eat. Beans, lentils, curries, pies, risotto, tofu balls and soups appeared to be on high rotation. But desserts, bar the odd cake, didn’t get a look in.

One exception being a raw fruit pie introduced to me by a flatmate who’d grown up in the 70s with an older, hippy sister who went on a raw food diet (somewhere between rebirthing and following some guru or another). It’s more than 20 years since I made the “pie” and the recipe is a tad vague but strangely legible. I remember there being oats in the base, yet they’re only mentioned as an after thought and I don’t recall ever cooking with fresh coconut. The size of pie dish, consistency of filling and other details remain absent.

I tweaked the original recipe a bit but stayed true to the memory of the dish. It must have been good because we had seconds, barely leaving any for breakfast.

The original recipe is at the end of this post, for what it’s worth.

Raw fruit pie

Base

3/4 c rolled oats, ground

1/2 c raw pistachios, ground

1/2 c raw almonds, ground

(other nuts or seeds can be substituted)

1/2 c dates, pitted and chopped

(other dried fruit can be substituted)

3/4 c desiccated coconut

1 tsp cinnamon, ground

1/4 cup coconut milk

Water, if needed

1/4 c honey

Soak oats and dried fruit in coconut milk and a little water, for about half an hour until softened. Combine with remaining ingredients and blend in a food processor.

Grease a pie dish (I used a 25 cm flan dish) with coconut oil. Push the rather sticky base into the bottom of the pan. It seems too little but will make it to the outer reaches with gentle coaxing. Rest it in freezer for 15 minutes.

Filling

3 medium sized apples, grated

2 tabs lemon juice

3 bananas, mashed

1 tsp coconut cream (the solids in the canned coconut milk)

1/2 cup desiccated coconut

Blend ingredients in food processor and spoon onto the base. Refrigerate til ready to serve.

Before serving decorate with fresh fruit. I used slices of kiwi and banana but any fruit will do such as fresh berries or orange segments.

A quick outdoor shot at 7.30 pm, excuse the dullness of the photo

The original recipe (somewhere between rebirthing and guru worship)

Base

1/2 c dates

1/2 c sultanas

1 cup sunflower seeds

1/4 c almonds’

1/4c fresh coconut (its not clear if this was the juice or flesh)

1/4 c desiccated coconut

1 tsp cinnamon

1/4 cup honey

Soak fruit 1 hour. Grind nuts and seeds. Combine ingredients til smooth in food processor. Press into pie dish to form a crust. Put in freezer ~ 15 minutes.

*Oats ok with fruit and substitute to substitute (note the ingredients list has no asterisks to indicate what can be substituted)

Filling

2 grated apples

2 tab lemon juice

1/4 cup fresh coconut

2 mashed bananas

Blend

Stir in 2 sliced bananas and add to crust.

Decorate with 1 kiwi fruit, sliced and 1 – 2 mandarins

* The Significant Eater (SE) is currently vegan. This summer all home cooking has been animal product-free.

how a gadget reclaimed my heart and the war on clutter was lost

Why is it that the process of decluttering tends to cover more surfaces with mess than it clears up? Or perhaps I’m the only one who begins chores, only to loose interest half way through. The sad reality is that my kitchen is invading the rest of my small home. From cookbooks to preciously hoarded jars (yes, instant entry to old-womanhood), there are only so many things that can be shoehorned into a tiny house.

Something’s got to give.

While a few cookbooks have been culled (and a pile of less-used-but-still-can’t-be-thrown-out sit on the table awaiting banishment to a high shelf) and the aforementioned recycled jars are on notice, my small handful of kitchen gadgets got the once over.

The mini-food processor is used so often it’s won bench top squatting rights. A week doesn’t go by without a batch of nuts being ground to sprinkle on breakfast or a quick curry paste blended from scratch.

A bigger version hunkers in the cupboard, rarely touched since I fell in love with its dwarf twin. But the promise of whizzing up a batch of scones in the wink of an eye gains it a stay of execution.

In frequent use is the stick blender. I worship this invention and thank the day it superseded the old-fashioned jar blender. Who could forget attempting to blend molten batches of soup in the 80s? It’d take at least two or three blender-fulls and a couple of pots to transform a chunky liquid into a smooth soup. And the mess! Not just all the washing up but at some stage the inner lid would blow, creating an unwanted art installation on the (inevitably) white kitchen and the risk of second degree burns.

With the delightful combination of warmer weather and arrival of affordable bananas, my stick blender and favourite jug are in regular service. I’m loving summer fruit blended with rice milk and a touch of either pomegranate molasses or a spoon of coconut sorbet.

So it was with a heavy heart that I eyed up my long neglected juicer. Purchased almost-new for $12 at a garage sale in 1990, she’s done great service. I figured the carrots, celery sticks and apple quarters that gadget’s seen in the name of detoxifying had surely earned a dignified retirement?

But a watermelon bought with the intention of becoming another summer of love salad became my undoing.

“Watermelon juice!” I thought. And oh how right that notion was.

Watermelon juice three ways

Watermelon smoothie: blend juice with a small banana and a handful of strawberries. No milk or added sweetener required. The banana gives it added body and creaminess.

Summery watermelon cocktail: shake together 3 parts juice, 1 part Cointreau and a dash of rosewater and pour over ice. Not sure how I dreamed this combo up but I promise you the hint of orange from the liqueur and the fragrance of roses marries with the watermelon perfectly. And it’s pink!

Au naturel: or mixed 50:50 soda water to extend the loveliness.

So after three weeks of “decluttering” – the kitchen table’s still missing in action, cookbooks have been relocated (making space for my burgeoning jug collection) and the juicer is fighting the jam jars for space in the cupboard.

...and a former ambivalence for watermelon has been transformed into a new seasonal crush.

name the fruit: part two

Papaya, pineapple, mango, green skinned oranges, watermelon, jackfruit, durian, mangosteen, water apple – so many fruits, so little time.

The second mystery fruit came our way in the north of Bali. At a small market in Lovina a stallholder thrust one each into our hands, demonstrating how to remove the skin. For the next week, it became a staple.

Mystery fruit #2 has a thin but robust skin, oddly reptilian in nature. Inside is a pale yellow fruit, segmented into lobes with a seed in the centre of each. The texture is pleasantly crisp. The flavour has a hint of pineapple.

This is the fruit of a palm, one of the many exotic plants we saw growing in a trek through Munduk.

Can you name the fruit?


Taken at Ubud Market (note the piece of palm tree)

Update: As Michelle and Katherine rightly guessed, this is salak. AKA snake (or snakeskin) fruit. The texture of the skin gives the name away. It's quite extraordinary. This species is undoubtedly Salak Bali (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salak).

Salak fans, have you ever cooked with it or just eat it raw, as is?

name the fruit: part one

Ah Bali! What's not to love about nasi goreng for breakfast, eating your body weight in gado gado and the wonderful surprises found in nasi campur? Lucy and I spent two weeks grazing our way around the East and North of this wonderful, tropical island. Posts will follow (including the best spot for authenti vegan nasi campur in Ubud) when head, body and mind are reassembled in the correct time zone.

But first. I saw (and sampled) many wondrous fruits and herbs that I've never experienced before. This competition has no prize but feel free to have a stab at naming this mystery fruit.



And on the tree.



1. Name the fruit.
2. Describe the flavour.

Go on, have a go.

If you grew up eating the mystery fruit, can you tell us a little more about what you used it for.

Update: Michelle and Celeste were spot on with "rose apple" and "jambus". The locals in the north of Bali call is "water apple".

The plant is from the Myrtaceae family, of the genus Syzgium. Not sure exactly which one.

The fruit we ate was pale with a rosy blush. The skin thin and waxy.

Tasting notes: This pale variety was crispy and slightly tart. Though it looked like it would be dry, it was slightly juicy and the flavour had a hint of tonic water. If I was a gin drinker I'd say it would be the perfect garnish for a G&T.

Texture wise, I'd imagine it would go well in a salad. A substitute for a crispy pear perhaps?

Have you ever cooked with water apple?

simple

The past month has been about:

Stir fries…tofu, tempeh or egg as protein plus finely sliced, julienned or half mooned vegetables. Rice noodles always a favourite. Tamari, kecap manis and fish sauce on rotation as flavouring.

Soups…easy red lentil served with fish sauce, chilli and a squeeze of lime juice.

Fish fillets cooked the way I was taught at primary school…fresh gurnard in a foil parcel with slices of lemon, salt, pepper and nothing else. Cooked at 175c for 11 minutes. I’d forgotten how good it tastes.

Autumn fruits…feijoas, tamarillos and persimmons.

Out…not often but well chosen..an intimate dinner at The Commoner (the most amazing mushroom coated version of a scotch egg, not on the menu but offered as a vegetarian option)…two vegan burgers to choose from at the Tramways plus the best hand cut chips.

Purchased…a beautiful, large ceramic bowl from a local potter. Big enough to fit a swag of fruit.



Nothing fancy. Just keeping calm and carrying on.

Mist, fruit and a lychee salad

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

From Keats Ode to Autumn

As the city is blanketed in morning fog and the last of the tomatoes wither on the vine, Melbournians enter a dance of not quite knowing what to wear at this time of year, making the commute to work most amusing. One young thing will be flashing the flesh in cut-off jeans, while another hides under a heavy coat. The men of late stay clad in t-shirts exposing a vast array of forearm tattoos. Yesterday I spotted a classic be-hearted “mother” on one thirty-ish lad and the stark number “29” on another. I itched to ask their stories.

The fruit that Keats so elegantly wrote of are on the turn. At the market exotic lychees and longans nestle next to apples and pears. I’ve convinced myself that fresh blueberries cost less than a glass of wine, so why not enjoy them a little bit longer?

But cooking with exotic fruit has never been my thing. I blame the toxic red “sweet and sour” sauce that clung to deep fried Chinese morsels that haunted my childhood. And let’s not get started on the 1970s Women’s Weekly curries featuring lamb, curry powder and a whole fruit salad bowl of apples, raisins and canned pineapple.

Over time my sweet 'n savoury-averse taste buds have undergone a re-education. It began with the delicious “summer rolls” at a long gone Gertrude Street Japanese kitchen. How could I guess that ice paper rolled around vegetables, nuts and mango could taste so good? Then as the diversity of Asian menus grew wider, the Chinese fluorescent sticky sauce was mercifully replaced with the tangy combo of fish sauce, lime juice and palm sugar.

Time to take the leap and add fruit to the main course I reckon. This weekend I whipped up a variant on this Asian coleslaw, in the form of a rice noodle salad. The sauce remains the same – that heavenly combo of lime, fish sauce, palm sugar and a little heat from this season’s searing red chilies.

Toss together a bundle of thin rice noodles, softened in hot water, with cucumber, grated carrot and a handful of aromatic herbs (Vietnamese or ordinary mint, coriander etc). Shell some fresh lychees and rip into pieces, top with chunks of smoked trout, add dressing and mix thoroughly.

I loved the bursts of sweet fruit in this old favourite. Ripe mango, papaya or pineapple would work equally as well. Definitely one for a warm autumn’s day.

Enjoy the mellow fruits while they last!


Much nicer fresh but the packaging is cuter!

Pear and cinnamon cordial-with bonus poached fruit

It started with half a dozen slightly wrinkled apricots looking reproachfully at me from the fruit bowl. Not even organic and past their prime, I’d been musing on food wastage and felt growing levels of guilt about not consuming all that I’d bought. To extend their life a little longer I chopped off any blemishes and stewed the fruit with a scant amount of water and sugar.

Oh my goodness, I’d forgotten how good freshly stewed fruit tastes. The flavours intensified in the cooking and transformed into a fragrant treat.

A few weeks later, some pears begged for the same treatment. The end of the week fruit is like the kid picked last for the sports team. They’re not necessarily unworthy, just the stars got chosen first. Eating the fresh pear (an organic Bartlett) told me today it was perfect, neither too hard, nor too soft and the flavour subtly sweet. Not being able to get through the rest of the bowl in one sitting, poaching was the obvious solution.

I usually poach pears in port but this time wanted something more breakfast friendly so opted for a simple syrup. I like David Lebovitz’s approach and covered the simmering fruit with paper to stop them from browning. I went easier on the sugar and spiced them with cinnamon and vanilla.

The house quickly became scented with cinnamon. I’m sure it must be a mood enhancer, like a feline stalking catnip I kept pacing by the stove taking in huge wafts of the enchanting aroma.

Not only was the fruit an amazing success but I also lucked on a new drink. My love for elderflower cordial reaches almost addiction levels at times but poached pear and cinnamon syrup could rival it. The taste has the subtleness of elderflower, balanced by the base notes of cinnamon.

This following was for a small test batch, for a larger amount of cordial scale up as required.

Pear and cinnamon cordial

6 ripe pears, peeled, cored and quartered
4 cups water
1 cup sugar (plus more for the cordial)
1 cinnamon quill
1/2 – 1 vanilla pod (to round the flavour but not dominate, unless you love vanilla)
pear juice concentrate (optional)

Place the water in a large pot, add sugar and dissolve over a gentle heat. Add the spices and prepared pears, then cover with a round of parchment or baking paper with a small hole in the middle (see the Lebovitz link above if unsure how to do this). Simmer over a low heat til the pears are just cooked. Mine took about 20 minutes.

Allow the fruit to cool in the syrup to enhance the flavour, then remove the pears with enough syrup to coat them. Return the pot to the stove and bring to a simmer. As the rest of the fluid is to make a small batch of cordial you may want to add more sweetener. I used some pear juice concentrate but if you want a clear syrup add more white sugar rather than the brown concentrate. Reduce the liquid by a third then decant to a small covered bottle or jar when cool.

For a fragrant drink add 1 – 2 tablespoons of cordial to a glass of sparkling mineral or soda water.

And don’t forget to eat the poached pears, perfect as a simple healthy dessert or on cereal for breakfast.

hiatus

I had a dream last night that I hadn't cooked for so long that I didn't realise the kitchen had been renovated in my absence.

In my waking life I am cooking frequently and there has been no secret remodeling of my kitchen while I sleep (I checked just in case the fairies had snuck in overnight) but perhaps it is my repertoire that needs a makeover?

While I contemplate my mojo, feast your eyes on one of the pretty fruit trees (species anyone?) in Lucy’s country garden, that I had the pleasure to visit on my day off.




Pretty, aint it.

in season: get it while it's good

I figure in Australia being a vast land and all that, almost anything is in season somewhere in the country at any time of year. Hass avocados, for instance, are grown all year round according to the industry’s marketing information. But Melbourne prices tell a different story when it comes to quality and availability.

I’ve put together a guide from organic stalls and farmers markets for what looks good, in Melbourne this April. Feel free to add to it.

Fruit
Apples are at their peak; worth spending a bit more to explore the dozens of different organically grown varieties that taste like apples did in your childhood.
Pears are slowly ripening.
Mandarins are heading the new citrus season, watch out for local oranges and grapefruits coming soon.
Limes have been a cheaper buy than lemons in the past month. If local trees are anything to go buy it will still be another month or so til lemons make a come back.
Persimmons, just in for their short and sweet season.
Quinces are starting to trickle in.
Still some figs about but not for much longer.
Grapes are on the way out but still a good buy.
Chillies are still abundant in my garden.

Nuts
The new season Tasmanian walnuts have arrived and taste great.
Chestnuts are starting to make an appearance.
Keep an eye out for local hazelnuts.

Vegetables
Pumpkins are still abundant and cheap.
Root vegetables are coming into their own – carrots, beetroot, sweet potato are a good buy.
Hopefully later in the month we’ll see some interesting mushrooms.
Say goodbye to tomatoes, eggplants, zucchini and cucumbers as their season ends and prices rise.

Update It's the second to last week of April and am overjoyed to report that feijoas are now in season too. I got a kilo of (admittedly small sized) feijoas for $3 from the market. The bonus was they were grown locally and without sprays. Larger ones were $7.50 (from the most expensive conventional stall at the entire market) and $9.50 (organic).

last days of summer

With days still spiking into the sticky mid-30s, I haven't wanted to turn the oven on much. Late summer is all about fruit. The cherries ended as abruptly as they arrived, apricots have had their day, peaches are still doing their thing and plums are stealing the scene.

When it comes to berries I'm a stickler for organics, in season. The local blue berries and strawberries have been spectacular this month - eaten within a day of purchase, at room temperature. Why would you want to trick up such stunning flavours?

There's a hint of autumn in the air, a whisper of cooler days to come. But for now there's a few weeks left of grazing the fruit bowl, lazy salads for dinner and sushi for lunch.

morning in the kitchen

Shhhhh….can you hear it? This my friends is the sound of contentment. Not a whinge to be heard. Everyone in Melbourne has cooled off and is instantly happy.

For now.

Taking advantage of the break in the weather I’ve been digging out excess, and now very large, tomato seedlings and passing them onto new homes. Strangely the more I pull out the more there seems to be. If you want any – please bring a pot with soil as we’ve almost run out.

In return I have received a neighbourly bounty of lemons, mulberries and kaffir lime leave.





There are far too many better things to do than clean the strained and splattered kitchen!

Have a good weekend.

beyond Ramsay and another box of oranges

Karl Quinn, in The Age, is suggesting the Ramsay-Grimshaw stoush was a set up. Call me cynical but I get the feeling the senior writer for Fairfax is trying to create his own controversy.

What I learnt from seeing Ramsay last weekend is that most of the audience didn’t find him particularly charming or even funny but some will do almost anything to win a small appliance or have their few seconds of fame. To be in the proximity of a celebrity is what it is all about.

But it has nothing to do with cooking. The guy for all his ugliness can cook. Uncouple the dreadful banter and infamy from his demo in the celebrity theatre and just let him create good simple food. Free him of the expectation to perform as anything other than a chef and I would have been happy to pay good money for the experience. After all the bloke used tahini for goodness sake and for me I can find redemption in popularising deceptively simple, healthy food.

You see we, the viewing public, have created Ramsay. We are the ones that demand the swearing (people left the theatre actually disappointed to not hear a single f*ck from him). We are the ones getting our jollies from the fallout with the ACA host. We are the ones that have turned cooking into reality television. Yes, we are the monster that created Masterchef (tune out, let the ratings drop and we will be free of it next year, I promise you).

This week I have cooked and eaten an awful lot. There has been quinoa pilaf, a simple chickpea curry made from imagination, a hearty bean and vegetable soup, an unexpected lunch at Cookie and generally lots of shared food around the table. Not much is what I would call “blogworthy”, mainly due to it being just regular simple fare, no bells and whistles or because I have documented here on these pages before.

Everything has a season. It is June, the SE’s birthday and with it comes his family from Sydney and a box of home grown oranges and lemons. There will definitely be another jar of preserved lemons, the orange cake might even get made this year but inevitably at least half the citrus will simply be squeezed and drunk. Sure there might be an intense orange jelly set with agar. There could be the spiced lemon pickle I didn’t get around to making last year. But you know, it doesn’t matter because merely squeezing it and drinking it straight is a delicious, simple experience in itself.

I know that if I miss messing with the fruit this year, the opportunity will come around again. Everything has a season – the anticipation, the first taste of the year, the inevitable glut that turns the sort after into the every day. Round and round it goes.

Enjoy the zesty citrus, roasted chestnuts and hearty soups that make winter what it is. For now, I am loving a bowl of steaming hot porridge with a dash of maple syrup before work, almost as much as anticipating bed with a hot water bottle at the end of the day. I can wait for spring to fall in love with asparagus again and summer for my first mango of the season but for now an orange grown with love is fine with me.

the last of the blood oranges

I woke up dreaming about jelly. Well not the jello variety exactly, a fruit kanten. Years ago I’d made one at a cooking course run by Tony Chiodo. It was so simple and elegant that I earmarked it to be made again. That was years ago but the recipe was exactly where I thought it would be and all I really needed to procure was some agar agar.

Agar agar is a more humane option as a setting agent than gelatin. No horse’s hooves (or for that matter, slightly unpleasant odour) involved. Technically it is a sea vegetable and they go crazy for it in Japan. I found it with no problem at Tofu Trek at Vic market.



The next step was to decide just what kind of fruit offering I wished to make.

The original recipe creates the dearest little translucent jellies made of clear apple juice set with blueberries. But as this was a test run (no grand dinner party here, I just wanted to play with the medium) I settled on the last of the blood oranges and some strawberries. A simple decision really, as even for conventional fruit the blueberries were hovering around the $8 mark, while they were giving strawberries away for $1 a punnet.

To make a fruit kanten there is a basic recipe to make the jelly:

For every 1 cup of fruit juice, use I teaspoon of agar agar flakes, (heaped if you are to add alcohol – whoops that let the next cat out of the bag, didn’t it) plus a tiny pinch of salt.

Simple.

As to the quantities, the original typed recipe actually used 3 tablespoon of agar agar to 3 cups of juice. But I had faithfully changed altered that as after cooking it we were told it was a typo and should have been teaspoon measures. In class we had made it with tablespoons and it was very firm, verging on hard. Though very yummy.

I cruised the net for quantities and most seemed to use tablespoons, then on a forum I found someone complaining that it seemed too firm and different to the ‘custard like’ kanten she’d eaten at a restaurant.

My texture was definitely set but a soft jelly. If you wish to do something creative like make a batch in a rectangular pan and cut it into squares to accompany another dessert then I’d suggest a tablespoon of agar agar per cup of juice.

But the ratio I used was perfect for:

Blood orange and vodka good karma jelly shots

1 cup freshly squeezed blood orange juice
1 heaped tsp agar agar
1 small pinch of salt
40 mls good quality vodka

Squeeze and strain your orange juice then place in a small pan on the stove. Add the agar agar and a tiny pinch of sea salt, and stir over medium heat. Bring to a simmer and let it gently bubble for 5-7 minutes til the agar agar flakes have dissolved. Keep stirring and checking. They actually do take this long to dissolve fully. You can remove the orange scum with a spoon, filter after cooking or leave it au naturel.

Once dissolved take the pan off the heat. Let it sit for a minute or two to before adding the vodka. Stir it through the juice then pour into shot glasses. Leave standing at room temperature for a couple of hours til they set.

Though remember, “drink responsibly", as the ads say.

But back to dessert.

I used the same quantities of blood orange juice and agar agar, plus the little pinch of sea salt. If making a larger batch use 3 cups of juice to 3 heaped teaspoons of agar agar. Once cooked I added the smallest splash of Grand Marnier. This is entirely optional but remember adding too much booze will dominate the delicate nature of the fruit and can also affect the ability to set. I arranged a quartered strawberry in the bottom of each teacup and covered with the liquid. If you are making this to impress, strain the cooked juice through muslin cloth to get a clearer liquid. It looks fabulous in clear glass but was hesitant to pour hot liquid into my best wine glasses.

Other options to the flavouring include – a squeeze of lemon, citrus zest, a vanilla pod and any decent fruit juice, combined with the best quality, seasonal fruit.

The flavour was intense and slightly tart. If you prefer a sweet dessert add some sugar at the cooking stage. But the combo of blood orange juice and strawberries went together well, with just a hint of Grand Marnier.







In the dream I used the juice of home grown, sweet tomatoes in a savoury kanten. I can’t wait til summer!

Autumn/Fall

Lots of words yesterday, so here is a couple of images of the season to feast your eyes.

market goodies #2

This little foodblogger went to market,
This little foodblogger came home,
This little foodblogger got out her camera
And went click, click, click all the way home.

Well not quite, but with all this talk about the rising price of food thought it would be timely to see just how much the fruit and veggie shopping cost this week. Admittedly we still have a fair amount of fruit, vegetables and some other staples left over from an extra mid-week shop or two last week.



All the vegetables are organic, though not the fruit. The whole snapper came in at $16 (just over $14 a kilo) - it is cheaper to buy it in Melbourne than Wellington despite NZ being the country of origin. There is some wild rice, dried cranberries and oats (also raw pistachios not included in the picture). Vegetables - silverbeet/chard (to go with lots of garlic, onion, lemon and olive oil on gluten-free pasta), zucchini, sweet potato, carrots, red and brown onions, garlic, rocket, tomatoes, radishes, romanesco broccoli (isn't it pretty!), brussels sprouts (the Significant Eater has a thing for them), desiree potatoes and pak choi. Fruit - bananas, persimmons and mandarins. And lastly some low salt Lingurian olives, eggplant dip and a couple of vegetarian cabbage rolls.

Total cost: Au$107.50

What is the cost of food where you are and what does your weekly shop look like?

'tis the season to be jolly

I prefer my fruit raw (unless it's heavenly fried rhubarb). Why muck about with perfection? The beginning of summer is about the freshest cherries, warm fragrant peaches, sticky mangoes, bright red berries. It seems like they are perfect for only a few moments - you'd be a fool to miss them.

I was asked to make a small festive offering for morning tea. I mused on all sorts of things of a sweet nature but in the end - the fruit won out. And boy was it a winner!



A simple seasonal fruit platter

handfuls of ripe organic cherries
kiwi fruit, quartered
(ok you now have the red and green theme!)
small ripe apricots, cut in half and remove stone
firm raspberries.
fresh mint to garnish.

Place a raspberry in each apricot half (not only do they look sensational but they are a great flavour combo) and arrange artistically.

ice-cream that even a fruitarian could eat

Is it really 2 months since I bought Jill Dupleix’s ”Lighten Up”? Barely a day has gone by without thinking about her “Mock Choc ice-cream" and with a few ripe bananas patiently waiting in the freezer I don’t know what I was waiting for. The recipe I refer to is a creamy, sugar-free, frozen concoction made from bananas, cocoa powder and dark chocolate. Instead I took the idea and ran with it, as I always do. With so much fresh fruit in the house the thought of making ‘ice-cream’ without a machine and using no dairy on a hot day was irresistible. I admit to being just a little sceptical as to just how creamy the result would be.

“I can’t believe it’s not ice-cream”
(Serves 4, unless you want to keep it all for yourself)

3 bananas – peeled, chopped and frozen overnight
1.5 large mangoes
1 ripe wipe peach (it was begging to be used, another 1 would have been even better)
a generous squeeze of fresh lime juice

Blend all ingredients in a food processor til smooth. Pour into a container and freeze for at least 3 hours. Remove from freezer 10-15 before serving.

Verdict: yum! Of course I could have used 2 or mangoes or all white peaches if I'd had more. The lime gave the flavours a slight lift. Dupleix does a raspberry version too. Obviously most soft fruits would go well.

Enhancements: a splash of Grand Marnier when serving gives the mango an extra kick.

Variations: any leftovers make a great base for a smoothie.



sure an ice-cream scoop would have made for finer food styling - but it's just lucky I scraped enough of the leftovers out to take a pic before I scoffed it!