Roasted pumpkin and tomato soup

 

Recipe: Roasted pumpkin and tomato soup

This soup has been in high rotation this winter and each time I love it just a little more! It was inspired by Stephanie Alexander’s latest cookbook Home. I’ve simplified the method but roasting the vegetables is non-negotiable, as it’s what gives this soup its rich umami flavour.

 

Roasted pumpkin and tomato soup

1 kg pumpkin, peeled and cut into 6 cm chunks
1 small potato, peeled and halved (optional, to thicken the soup)
1 onion, peeled and thickly sliced
4 medium-large ripe tomatoes, halved
6 cloves of garlic, unpeeled
1.5 litres vegetable stock (I prefer homemade or Marigold bouillon powder)
1 – 2 tsp smoked paprika
1/3 cup olive oil
Sprig of rosemary (optional)
Sea salt and pepper to taste
Freshly ground pepper, to taste

Heat the oven to 220c (200c fan-forced).

Cut the pumpkin, potato and onion as directed above. Toss in a bowl with olive oil, herbs, garlic and a pinch of salt. When covered in oil, lay out in a single layer in your baking dish. Ideally use a large baking dish big enough to fit all the vegetables without overcrowding, that’s safe to use on the stove top, if it’s not big enough, use two.

Roast vegetables for 40 minutes, give the tray a shake and stir halfway through this time. It’s ok for the vegetable to get crisp and a little scorched (but not burnt) as this deepens the flavour.

Remove from the oven and throw away the rosemary stem. Take out the tomatoes and discard the skins. Do the same with the garlic. Both should be easy to slip off when cooked. Add these along with the rest of the vegetables to a large pot.

Place the baking dish, with the delicious stuck-on goodies, on the stove top on medium heat.  Add a cup or two of your stock and stir with a wooden spoon to deglaze the pan. Once the bits have come away from the pan, pour the deglazing liquid into your pot with the vegetable. Add the remaining stock and whizz with a hand blender until smooth. Alternatively you can use a blender or food processer.

Put the pot on the heat and bring to a simmer. Taste before adding salt and pepper. If using a commercial stock it mightn’t need much. If the soup is thicker than you’d like add more stock. If a bit thin, just simmer on a low heat til you have your desired consistency.

 

Jerusalem artichoke soup

I used to avoid buying these odd-looking tubers because I didn’t know what to do with them. But they are a versatile winter vegetable that can be roasted, blended or, if particularly fresh, thinly sliced and eaten raw.

Neither an artichoke nor from the Middle East, this vegetable has a distinctive, though relatively mild flavour that is perfect for a winter soup. Despite being a low-starch vegetable, when blended the soup has a luscious creamy consistency.

Naturally creamy, vegan Jerusalem artichoke soup recipe.


All new recipes are on my naturopathy website, check out the resources section for my recipe archive.

Tomato and quinoa soup

Quinoa is a versatile grain (that's really a seed). It’s light enough to add body and protein to a soup without making it stodgy. A little goes a long way, so only add more if you’d prefer a stew rather than soup.

This seedy-grain comes in different colours, but they all taste pretty much the same. Always rinse quinoa well before using.

Tomato & quinoa soup recipe.

All new recipes are on my naturopathy website, check out the resources section for my recipe archive.

finger food: mini frittatas in smoked salmon cups

It’s finger food season. These make a perfect mouthful and are quick and easy to make. There's a vego friendly version in the variations below.

Mini frittatas in smoked salmon cups

Makes about a dozen mini frittatas

6 slices smoked salmon

3 large eggs

1 tablespoon water

1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh green herbs

Salt and pepper to taste

Heat oven to 200c.

Oil mini muffin tins well.

Line each hole with half a slice of good quality smoked salmon (I don’t like Australian salmon as it’s farmed, I’ve found a good source of smoked wild salmon from Scandinavia at Vic Markets).

Finely slice your herbs. Dill of course is ideal with salmon but it’s ok to improvise. The first batch was a combination of chives, garlic greens and parsley.

Beat eggs with a little water and a dash of salt and pepper. Mix through the chopped herbs. Pour into the salmon lined mini muffin tin holes.

Bake for 12 minutes, until cooked.

Run a knife carefully around the edge of each hole to loosen before removing. Tastes good hot or cold.

Variations

Double the quantities if using full-sized muffin tins. They make a good lunch or brunch item rather than finger food when larger.

Vegetarian: skip the salmon and add a little diced sun dried tomatoes or caramelised onions to the egg mix.

Experiment with different herbs. The green garlic tops were perfect.

vegan feast: Ottolenghi cookalong

When The Guardian gave a column to a vegetarian-friendly chef a few years back, I was excited. Was the zeitgeist shifting and vegetarian food becoming mainstream? I didn’t mind if he was an omnivore (after all, I’m a pescetarian but a huge promoter of vegan food), anything that makes a plant-based diet sexy is good enough for me.

Melbourne foodbloggers adopted Yotam Ottolenghi with gusto. I wanted to love him but the more I scoured his recipes, the less accessible I found them. Being dairy-free rendered 70% of his dishes inaccessible without a lot of adaptation. (And I hate to admit it, I carry a bit of a grudge that the aforementioned column segued from vegetarian to meat-centric a while later).

When Cindy suggested the next cookalong be Ottolenghi themed, I thought it was time to tackle my difficult relationship with his work. Once more I requested Plenty from the local library and poured over the padded tome. It was difficult. So many of his ingredients didn't lend themselves to our seasonal availability. But I figured with celeriac in season, I’d give his Celeriac and Lentil Salad with Hazelnuts and Mint a go.

While I could source all of the ingredients at Vic Market, the simple salad rung up a hefty toll – puy lentils (or the equivalent) $11 a pop, bunches of thyme and mint, celeriac (two small organic left little change from a tenner), red wine vinegar, hazelnuts…I drew the line at hazelnut oil and substituted with some macadamia I had at home.

The recipe is not officially online but has been reproduced by others in the blogosphere. This version’s authentic, though the blogged recipe is not metricized. From memory the Australian edition of Plenty called for about 600gm of celeriac).

In a (hazel) nut shell the recipe is simple but rendered unnecessarily fussy. Toast the hazelnuts (60gm) in their shells, cook the puy lentils until al dente, boil the celeriac and mix together in a dressing made with olive oil, hazelnut (or in this case macadamia) oil, “high quality” red wine vinegar, salt, pepper and lashings of fresh mint. The recipe called for cooking the lentils with thyme and bay leaves, which didn’t really add any extra flavour.

Overall the salad was healthy but lacking in zing. An entire bunch of mint didn’t particularly enliven the dish (perhaps in summer the essential oils in the herb would pack more punch but then celeriac would be difficult to find) and the dressing needed more acidity. Some roughly chopped parsley instead of mint, an extra slug of vinegar and a heavier hand with the salt may have made it a little tastier.

The entire meal, however, was a raging success. Last year five of us got together to make an vegan, Indonesian-themed shared lunch. It was lovely to chop, cook, chat and eat with a bunch of healthy-food minded people. This time Cindy and Michael hosted and  Kristy and Toby came along to fire up the wok. Who’d have thought you could get five food bloggers in the same kitchen and cook without ego or (too much) chaos?

We feasted on Ottolenghi-inspired gluten-free, vegan food. Michael quietly whipped up a borlotti and green bean masterpiece, Cindy made a bejewelled roasted cauliflower salad and Kristy fried up black pepper tofu in a tasty sauce, while Toby veganised this polenta cake using egg replacer and olive oil.

But wait there’s more.

Cindy roasted rhubarb and whipped coconut cream* flecked with lemon zest (oh my what a heart stopping vegan treat!), which went perfectly with Toby’s polenta cake. It was one of the best vegan desserts I’ve eaten in a long time.

So am I an Ottolenghi convert yet? If I was Joyce of Hot Or Not fame, based on the lentil salad alone, for me Plenty is a definite “not”. But I loved everyone else’s dishes, the camaraderie of the kitchen, Michael’s thoughtful Flying Nun heavy play list and those wonderful desserts.

* Serendipitously Jess Cox posted this simple recipe for whipped coconut cream this morning. A simpler version but just as rich. My gallbladder would like to warn you that delicious as it is, limit it to a very small serve.

curry with a great provenance

The genesis of ideas fascinates me. Recipes, like family history, have a habit of unfolding, blending and recreating themselves. It excites me to find other people's scribbles and cross-outs in cookbooks (though never, ever in fiction!), a meeting of social anthropology and culinary exploration. It gives me a thrill to find a library book, splattered from a visit to a borrowers kitchen, with a secret message of a substitution or deletion pencilled into the margin.

I’m pathologically incapable of following a recipe exactly. I do my best to honour the spirit of the inventor but when it comes to savoury cooking I really struggle to toe the line if I don’t have all the ingredients. Perhaps it’s sheer laziness that leads me to be so adaptive?

For my final recipe post of the year I can trace back the provenance of the dish. This great curry comes to you from Jamie Oliver, via Reem's adaptation, wih a Food Nazi veganization for good measure.

I don’t own a single Oliver cookbook. I’ve always been ambivalent about his boyish charms, though I admit he’s likable… in a Shane Warne of Cooking kind of way. But what the man excels in is simple, flexible recipes. The Jamie/Reem curry is dead easy and quick as well, which always ticks my boxes.

So I bring you their favourite curry sauce for fish, from Jamie Oliver's Happy Days with the Naked Chef.

Only it doesn’t have any fish in it.

Though it would be very tasty with seafood.

Oh and I changed the flavouring just a teeny bit, with fresh turmeric, coriander seeds, kaffir lime leaves and some palm sugar. I swapped green chillies for red and dropped the curry leaves.

But does anyone know where Jamie got the recipe from in the first place?

My (new) Favourite Curry Sauce
(Quantities for two)

1 tab coconut oil
1-2 tsp Mustard Seeds
1/2 -1tsp Fenugreek Seeds (optional, I think I’ll give them a miss next time)
1 tsp fresh coriander seeds (or dried if you have to)
I tsp of finely chopped red chili (or this preserved version)
2-3 kaffir lime leaves, split in half
1 small onion
1thumb sized pieces of ginger, peeled & coarsely grated
1 thumb sized piece of fresh turmeric
2-3 tomatoes, chopped
200 ml coconut milk
1 tsp tamarind concentrate
1 –2 tsp grated palm sugar
A large pinch of salt
Vegetables, chopped into small pieces
1 block, Tofu – pressed to remove excess water, cubed

Heat a tablespoon of coconut or plain vegetable oil in a heavy based pan. Add the mustard seeds and stir. When they start popping add the fenugreek, coriander seeds and chili, stir some more. Take the onion, ginger and turmeric and chop in a food processor. Add to the pan. Cook for 3 or 4 minutes, stirring frequently. Now add the chopped tomatoes (or even better, whiz them in the already dirty food processor) and you guessed it, stir some more. Add the coconut, tamarind concentrate, kaffir lime leaves and palm sugar. Allow the paste to cook down a little and thicken. Add a pinch of salt and adjust sugar/salt/tamarind as necessary to balance the flavours.

Your sauce is ready to receive whatever you fancy. Jamie/Reem used seafood (which would work especially well with the citrus tones of the kaffir lime leaves) but I was on an end of the week vegetable crisper clean out – so in went carrots, cauliflower and chunks of zucchini. Make sure the vegetables are well coated in sauce. You may need to add a cup of water too loosen as it cooks down. Five minutes before serving add the cubes of tofu and allow them to soak up the flavours.

Garnish with fresh coriander if you want to be fancy.

Serve with rice or roti.

Notes – The curry is a gorgeous brick red colour and the fragrance is amazing. The fresh coriander seeds were wonderful. Keep it subtle and they marry with the other seeds. I had no curry leaves and though I know the kaffir lime gave the curry a different accent it was worth the deviation. As for the sugar, something tasted slightly bitter (maybe I’d scorched the fenugreek?) and the sugar along with the salt (what no salt in the original recipe?!) and the acid of the tamarind corrected the balance.

tabbouleh with quinoa

In celebration of the return of my kitchen mojo I finally got around to concocting a gluten-free version of this Middle Eastern classic. Tabbouleh is a salad best eaten freshly made, with green herbs straight from the garden. It really zings!


Tabbouleh with quinoa

2 cups cooked quinoa*
2 tablespoon finely chopped parsley
2 tablespoon finely chopped mint
1 spring onion, finely chopped
1 Lebanese cucumber, finely diced
2 tomatoes, finely diced
1 clove of garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon olive oil
juice of 1-2 lemons
a pinch of salt, pepper and Zataar (optional) – to taste

Combine ingredients and then adjust flavours to taste. I prefer a tabouleh a little heavy on the lemon juice and light on the spring onion.

Makes a great salad or side dish that ticks all the good health boxes – vegan, gluten-free and a total detox dish.



*To cook quinoa
Rinse 1 cup of quinoa well in a fine seize and bring to the boil with 1.5 cups of water and a pinch of salt. Simmer covered for 12 minutes, then leave to steam off the heat with the lid firmly on for 5 minutes.

Cool before using in salads.

whitebait season

Despite living in the global food basket, there’s the odd treat from across the ditch that is challenging to source in Melbourne. Feijoas make a brief and often pricey visit in winter, tamarillos almost as fleeting and yams, the tiny red tubers that most kiwis love, haven’t been sighted for years. The aforementioned vegetable used to turn up at one stall at Vic market for two or three weeks each September, where homesick New Zealanders would inundate the bemused greengrocer. But no more.

The most illusive delicacy of all is a wriggly little sucker. Genuine, New Zealand whitebait. No not those chunky little fish that Aussies call by the same name. Nor the foul tasting variety of little ‘uns that arrive frozen from Thailand.

Even in the homeland whitebait has an expensive and short lived season. At $160 a kilo, this is a prized entrée, eeked out with egg to make the flavour go further. Though the first time I ate the wrigglers, I’d helped catch them myself in a mountain stream. Free, bar the cold I caught from a day spent too close to icy water.

On my last trip home I picked up 200 gms of whitebait as a treat for my parents. You can just beat an egg and toss through the fish if you like but I like a little more “hold” in my batter. It’s light, crunchy and very easy to make.

Kiwi whitebait fritters
(quantities per 100 gm of whitebait)

100 gm of whitebait

1 egg, separated
1 tab cornflour
salt and pepper

Vegetable oil
(knob of butter optional)
Lemon wedges to server

Place the whitebait in a sieve and strain. Separate the egg(s) and beat the whites to soft peaks. Take the yolk(s) and beat in the cornflour with a wooden spoon. Stir in the salt and pepper. Gently fold in the beaten eggwhites into the yolk mixture.

At this point you can either carefully add the whitebait, or if you want a less eggy fritter (if you’ve caught your own and have plenty, so you don’t need to eek out the precious produce) place the whitebait into another bowl and gently fold in the batter a spoonful at a time until the whitebait it just holds the fish together.

Heat up your frypan, add oil (if you want a more golden fritter the addition of animal fat, such as a knob of butter to the oil). Add about a tablespoon of mixture and fry the fritters til golden. Then turn over and cook the other side, about two minutes each. Traditional whitebait fritters are the size of a pikelet but these days fitters come in all shapes and sizes.

Serve with a wedge of lemon and eat immediately.


Excuse the poor quality picture, the light was fading and the natives were restless. For a clearer image check out this little beauty.

horta with not so wild greens

Remember the patch of green outside my backdoor? All that bitter radicchio/chicory, the mass of nettles in desperate need of eating, the silver-green elegant fonds of kale and some good old fashioned chard cried out one thing to me. Horta!.

I’ve made this traditional Greek dish before with shop bought chicory. The method was passed down to me through a most circuitous route. The Significant Eater’s ex was of Irish/Greek decent, her mother taught her to cook this, she passed it onto the Italian/Aussie SE and years later this mantle was handed onto me. The “recipe” as such being – wash, chop, boil, strain and then add lemon juice and olive oil. This time I steered a little from the previous path and was happy with the lovely pile of cooked greens that came out of it.


Horta

Olive oil
2 cloves garlic, finely sliced
A large colander of washed greens – I used kale, nettles, chicory and chard from the garden
2 lemons
Salt

Wash the greens well in a cold water and then transfer in a colander. Then chop roughly into about 6-8 cm pieces.

Heat a little olive oil in the bottom of a pressure cooker (if you don’t have one, just use your biggest pot and cook for longer). Add the garlic and stir quickly til it softens but doesn’t brown. Add greens by the handful (wearing rubber gloves if you’ve picked nettles), stirring before adding more. When all the greens have wilted add a centimetre or two of water to cover the bottom of the pot (if not using a pressure cooker use a lot more water). Fit the lid and bring up to steam. Cook for about 15 minutes, then allow to depressurise.

Drain the water but don’t throw it out, it’s delicious to drink. Toss through the juice of two lemons, a couple of tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil and a sprinkle of salt. Serve hot, warm or cold.


For a more traditional version read Maria’s beautiful story about gathering wild greens and cooking horta in Wellington.

Links from the lost zone

I’ll be offline for a few days (if this delayed flight ever eventuates) and would like to leave you with a few morsels in my absence.

Reading this piece about cooking with quinoa in the NY times last month made me realise how food wise I tend to move on from one infatuation to another. I haven't made creamy quinoa for breakfast for over a year. However, I did have an amazing quinoa dessert at Mamasita recently that was sweet and orangey and delicious.

I’m impressed. The aforementioned Melbourne eatery is entirely gluten-free. More allergy-aware local dinning options listed recently in The Age. The list seems a bit sparse to me. Hellenic Republic for example asks about dietary restrictions when you book and my coeliac friends say they have lots of options. Munsterhaus, while not top end dining, also caters well for the dairy or gluten intolerant. If I was still in lecturer-mode I’d have told the author that he “could try harder” and “needs to do more research”. Or perhaps “stop cribbing the notes of your classmates and do some original work”?

When the weather warms up again can someone remind me to make Heidi’s grilled tofu and soba noodles? There’s nothing like slurping cool buckwheat noodles on a hot day.

If you’re not used to cooking soba, especially the 100% buckwheat variety, there’s quite an art to it. If you cook them the regular way in a pot of boiling water then drain and serve, they end up a gooey, sticky, tangled mess. The way that works for me is the 3 cups of cold water way. Add the noodles to boiling water. When the pot comes back to the boil add a cup of cold water. Do this two more times (boil/water/back to the boil/water etc) and the noodles should be perfectly cooked by the time the pot is boiling again after the last cold dunk.

See you when I'm back for the land of the wrong white crowd.


Very bored at Melbourne airport, drinking bad coffee and wondering if my plane will ever show up.

Moosewood-haus: celebrating dietary niches

I was going to write about the joy of coming across unexpected treasures tucked away, marking once favoured recipes. But you know what? ‘Fessing up to being bathed in warm waves of nostalgia from finding an almost two decade old tram ticket in one of my Moosewood cookbooks just made me feel ancient. Not sure what is more aging – remembering tram conductors punching the lovely rectangular tickets, or admitting to owning a number of the hippy classics.



Instead I will mention that elsewhere in the world it’s Coeliac Awareness week (in Australia it’s actually in March) and I came across this lovely link for the 50 Best Blogs For Going Gluten-Free.

Bringing together the gluten-free and vegetarian, I had lunch at a newish, local eatery that appeals to both groups. Munsterhaus is pleasantly modern and un-Moosewoodish. The handful of hot dishes and vast selection of cold ones are served cafeteria-style and the brown rice (slyly hid under the counter) would make even Molly Katzen happy. You choose your plate size then point to the offerings you wish to eat. My combination was vegan, dairy-free and mighty tasty, leaving me wanting a return visit to try more of their interesting fare.

Just as well lunch was so delightful as the day turned cactus with a flat tyre shortly after. If only I'd caught a tram to lunch.



Note: This is not a review and I have no affiliations with the place but I will shout loudly from the rooftops (or blog page) in support of any appetizing, healthy, vegan/low dairy eateries in my locality.

from the garden: a simple chickpea and silverbeet curry recipe

Home late, craving good honest vegetables. I’d had the foresight to soak some chickpeas overnight and cook them before leaving for work. Why does such a simple act make me feel disproportionately virtuous? Really it’s no effort at all and the legumes cooked in 40 minutes, easy.

This easy combo hit the spot, with a nice rounded, spiciness thanks to the homegrown chilli.

Simple chickpea and silverbeet curry recipe

(quantities are flexible, just make sure there is enough liquid)
Vegetable oil
1 large onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 fresh green chilli, finely sliced
a small knob fresh ginger, finely chopped
2 tsp cumin seeds, roasted and ground
2 tsp coriander seeds, roasted and ground
2 cups cooked chickpeas
a big bunch of silverbeet (aka Swiss chard), washed, spines removed and roughly chopped
4 big tomatoes, chopped (or 1 can crushed tomatoes)*
1 cup vegetable stock
salt, to taste

Sauté onion in ample vegetable oil (I used coconut) over low heat til translucent. Add the spices and stir for a couple of minutes. Toss in the chickpeas. Add silverbeet a handful at a time til wilted. Throw in the tomatoes and stock. Bring to a simmer, stirring every now and then. Cook for about 30 minutes.

Serve with your favourite rice.


* I've made a similar version substituting tomatoes with tamarind water.

so why are there so many bad gluten-free products?

gluten-free biscuits (which no one really likes) opened jan 2010

The offending item was bought by the Significant Eater when we cruised the health food store near the Westgarth theatre, wanting to find something to munch on during a movie.

Too much vanilla essence and way too salty. The floury bits were fine. So why do they have to stuff it up with absolutely crap flavour balance?

sri lankan inspired cauliflower curry

I loved Malaysia. I gorged on curries of all varieties from the spicy Assam, through to Indian and a mouth-blowingly hot Thai meal. But when I came home I thought it was time to have a rest from chilli for a while.

Within a week I was bored, perhaps I was addicted to our little friend in the capsicum family? I became determined to made a curry that was creamy and flavoursome rather than relying on the heat.

The mildest curry that I eat on a regular basis is a cauliflower and coconut version at my lunchtime haunt, Sheni’s Curries. I set about to make my own version and created the base recipe as follows. Over the past month I’ve made at least 3 versions, from no chilli to moderately hot, each has its merit.

Despite the list of spices this is a deceptively simple curry to make and can be on the table in under an hour. What’s more it’s vegan and gluten-free.

My favourite combination is to serve this with brown rice and some pan-fried firm tofu, splashed with tamari just before turning off the heat or the same method using tempeh and kecap manis.

Sri Lankan inspired cauliflower curry

1/2 cup cashew nuts
2 cups water

Dry spices
3 tsp coriander seeds
2 tsp cumin seeds
2 tsp fenugreek
1 tsp dried chilli flakes (to taste)

Coconut oil
1 clove of garlic
3 cm turmeric root (or a tsp of dried turmeric powder)
3cm ginger root
6 curry leaves
2 tsp brown mustard seeds
1 med onion, diced
1/2 large cauliflower, broken into florettes
1 head of broccoli, broken into florettes
1 tin coconut milk
1 cup vegetable stock
salt
juice of half a lemon



Boil the cashews in water for about 20 minutes – longer if preferred. This makes them softer and easier to digest. I usually put the cashews on then measure some brown rice and get that cooking, toast and grind the spices and prepare the vegetables in the time they take to cook.

Toast the dry spices in a pan, move them around frequently so they don’t burn. Transfer to a mortar and pestle or spice grinder and bash well.

Heat some coconut oil (or plain vegetable oil) in a heavy based, large pot. On a medium heat add the ground dry spices, garlic, turmeric and ginger and stir for a couple of minutes. Add the mustard seeds and curry leaves. Stir again, then add the vegetables. Once all the vegetables are coated with the spices add the coconut milk and good quality vegetable stock (I use Marigold organic bouillon). Drain the cashew nuts and add to the curry. Bring to a gentle simmer on low, cover with a lid slightly ajar and give it a stir every now and then. If you need more fluid add some more hot vegetable stock.

After about half an hour check to see if the vegetables are tender. If you want to develop the flavours more cook earlier in the day, leave covered off the heat and reheat before dinner.

When the vegetables are cooked add salt to taste and a decent squeeze of fresh lemon juice. Don’t forget the lemon, it really helps enliven the spices.

a nettle delight that you won't find on masterchef

Masterchef is over and hopefully we won’t have to hear the word “journey” (unless it’s in conjunction with some mode of transport) for a very long time.

I neither loved nor loathed the series, was not so secretly pleased that the finale was duked out between two grown up women (rather than an over confident bloke or a darling young 20 year old) but was saddened to hear that it really hasn’t inspired a generation of children to cook. According to a tweet by Stephanie Alexander, a formidable authority on all things to do with healthy food and young people, kids were more inspired to cook by the ads than the show itself.

@GrowCookEat: Masterchef claim that kids turned onto real food. From a class of 22, 8 told me they cooked chocolate cupcakes inspired by Betty Crocker ad.

I would have liked to see more cutting edge cookery, especially in the last week. So I present for you the key ingredient I would have selected for a mystery box challenge – nettles! And lets add a twist; the dish needs to be vegan as well. Come on, it’s the final week lets up the ante a bit more – lets make sure its is gluten-free to boot.

This is my humble offering, harvesting my only current backyard crop of abundance. Having earmarked small footprint family’s intriguing nettle pate, I had a flashback to another herb and avocado spread that I had earlier concocted. What I whipped up is a hybrid of the pate and my detox parsley pesto.

Nettle, nut and avocado dip

5 cups (approx) fresh, or 2 cups steamed, nettles
1/2 cup pistachio nuts (soaked and dried if you want to release extra goodness)
1/2 cup walnuts (optionally soaked as above)
1 large avocado
squeeze of fresh lemon juice
1/2-1 tsp coriander (cilantro) seeds, roasted and ground
1/2-1 tsp cumin seeds, roasted and ground
pinch of salt
2 cloves garlic
1 tablespoon young (shiro) miso

Carefully harvest your nettles, choosing the young tops if you can. Wash well and shake dry. Place in a large pot on low heat with no extra water. Keep lid on and shake every few minutes. It should take about 10 minutes to steam the nettles in this manner. Once cooked drain off any excess water.

Roast and grind the cumin and coriander seeds with a pinch of salt.

Pulse nuts in a food processor til semi crushed. If you go to far they will become nut butter. Add the garlic, ground spices, avocado, and lemon juice process some more. Now throw in the drained nettles and miso paste. Blend to the desired consistency, I like my nuts to still have some texture but its up to you. Season with additional salt and lemon juice, to taste if needed.

The dip goes well with crudités or rice crackers. There is a hint of the green grassy taste of nettles but be assured there is no sting.

Who knows, maybe next year nettles rather than tonka beans will be the must have herb of the season.



If you have no nettles consider using some steamed spinach, radiccio, rocket a bunch of your favourite fresh green herbs.

links, herbs and more stinging nettles

I’ve been a bit slow to catch Cheryls WHB round up, so it was a lovely surprise to see the goodies on offer. Anh’s sesame and tofu biscuits have really got my brain firing. I can’t wait til she experiments with savoury, seaweed crackers.

I love the simplicity of quinoa and Cheryl’s lemony mint version looks delicious. Then I noticed her chickpea crackers and marvelled at them too. The more gluten-free goodness the better!

And before we leave gorgeous grains, Lucy’s millet post is a timely reminding to excavate my pantry to make a millet pilaf.

I’ve not jumped on the agave bandwagon, wanting to find out more about the product first. It appears some of my suspicions are well founded. Dawn at Small Footprint Family has put her qualifications in holistic nutrition to good use to put together a well researched post on agave.

Our winter vegetable patch is much neglected. We are still harvesting fiery red chillies (and to be honest I’ve rather had enough of having my mouth and nether regions assaulted by the stuff) and the parsley has finely decided to grow to a decent size. But best of all, self-seeded nettles have taken over the remaining ground. They are young and tender and just crying out to be cooked. There will definitely be more nettle tortillas , possibly a soup with potatoes and using it as a substitute for spinach. Anyone got any more ideas?

Update: Just found this recipe for nettle pate at Small Footprint Family - excited as it is vegan and gluten-free.

south of the border

A package arrived for the SE. “Do not crush” the oversized envelope implored.

Inside was this.



One perfect habanero chilli, home grown by a friend of his in Sydney.

We were told to save the seeds to grow our own little golden bundle of heat and so we have.

It was almost too pretty to eat. What to do with it? In the end, to best appreciate the flavour rather than just the temperature I decided to put it in a salsa. Without the seeds, half a habanero in a sauce for two was enough to enjoy the well-rounded, slightly citrusy tones of the pepper, without being blown away. A whole habanero would have been far more interesting though!

A meal fit for a pepper
(Quantities are for 2 and are just a suggestion)

I based this meal around the salsa. Originally it was to be fish tacos but pure laziness stopped me from diverting from my journey, to buy some shells.

Mexican rice of sorts
vegetable oil
1 small onion, diced
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 cup long grain rice
1 carrot, grated
1 cup vegetable stock, hot
2 tablespoons tomato paste

Heat the oil in the pan, sauté the onion then add the garlic and cook for another minute or two. Toss in the rice and give it a good swirl around til it is well coated with oil. Add the carrot. Lastly add the hot stock with the tomato paste stirred through it. Stir one more time, then place a lid on the pan and sit it on a heat diffuser mat to cook slowly for 25 minutes. Stand for a further 10 minutes with the heat off and lid on.

Salsa
1/2 habanero chilli, deseeded, very finely chopped
4 medium tomatoes, skins removed, finely chopped
small handful, coriander leaves and stalks, chopped
squeeze lime juice
pinch sea alt

Combine in a bowl.

Guacamole
1 large avocado, mashed
juice of 1/2-1 lime
1 clove garlic, crushed
generous dash, Tabasco sauce
pinch of sea salt

Combine the ingredients, adding the lime juice on the avocado immediately so it doesn’t oxidise and loose it’s vibrant colour.

Pan fried fish
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp coriander seeds
1/2-1 cup cornflour
1 tsp smoky paprika
1/2 tsp sea salt
2 fillets, fish
vegetable oil


Toast the cumin and coriander in a pan for a couple of minutes, shaking frequently, then pound using a mortar and pestle. Combine the spices, flour and salt on a plate, then dredge your fish. Remember to shake off any excess flour. I used gurnard, a delightful, underrated fish in this country but a favourite in New Zealand (and at just over $3 a fillet turned out to be good value). It holds together well in the pan and has a slightly sweet flavour. (As an aside, A. A. Gill once described gurnard as ”the Amy Winehouse of battered fish").

Back to the kitchen. The rice has finished cooking and is doing its ten minutes of rest with the lid on. The salsa and guacamole are made and the table is laid. All you need to do now is fry the fish. This is one time a shallow fry is called for, heat your oil to a decent temperature making sure the fish will sizzle when you put it in the pan. About three minutes a side will do it depending on the thickness of the fish. The average fry pan will cook two decent fillets at a time, don’t be tempted to cram it with more. If cooking for more than two people do it in batches and keep warm in the oven, otherwise your fish will stew rather than fry as the temperature drops in the pan.

Cook, drain on paper towels. Pile rice on the plate; artfully arrange your fried fish on top. Top with salsa and guacamole to taste.


I make no claims of authenticity with these recipes. The rice, I read a few recipes then promptly forgot them. The idea was to add a few vegetables and a little flavour, as a background rather than to compete with the other tastes on the plate. I think most Mexican rice’s are more tomatoey than this but I wanted to showcase the salsa, not the rice. It was a perfect balance.

The coating from the fish was purely from imagination. The paprika gave a barely detectable smoky back note; the spices were subtle but complemented the flavour of the gurnard. I always use cornflour, I like the feeling of its silkiness and when fried is a bit crispier than wheat flour. As a bonus it is gluten-free.

This was a fun meal to make. Despite the four separate components it can be put together in the time it takes to cook the rice. While getting vegetables into people in this house is never an issue, it would be perfect for those who need a little sneaky action to get their “5 a day”.

And the taste? Perfect!

simple

Silverbeet/Chard was a vegetable I dodged as a child. Once I started growing it, ten years ago, it heralded the renaissance of our relationship. Coarser than than English spinach and its flavour earthier, I am beginning to like it more than it's delicate replacement.

Here are four simple ways we have eaten silverbeet this week:

Washed and the water shaken from the leaves, tossed in a pan with olive oil and garlic, cooked til tender.

In a curry (flavoured by Sri Lankan powder, tamarind, extra chillies and tomatoes from the garden) with chickpeas, potato, carrot, potato and beetroot. (The beets were sweet and delicious, be brave and throw them in your next vegetable curry).

With olive oil, onion, garlic, anchovies, preserved lemons and olives, tossed through some gluten free pasta.

A quick lunch, softened in butter with garlic, two eggs, cherry tomatoes, my battered old smallest frypan.

Simple.

another tagine of sorts

To initiate a tagine into useful existence it needs to be soaked for 24 hours then left to dry for a further hour or so. Realising this the other morning, it became clear that the dish I’d planned to christen the tagine with was just not going to happen. Undeterred I went ahead and made a harisa of sorts from our home grown chillies, using the spices I liked that loosely fit this Middle Eastern classic. The resulting meal was slow cooked in the trusty iron pot and came out just fine.

Stripped back harisa paste

6 medium hot red chillies
6 plump cloves of garlic
2 tsp coriander seeds
2 tsp fennel seeds
2 tsp cumin seeds
salt
oil

Toast the seeds in a pan, swirling all the time so they don’t burn. After a couple of minutes the aroma will tell you they are cooking nicely. Keep swirling until the coriander seeds begin to brown. Remove immediately from the pan (residual heat = burnt seeds) and grind with a mortar and pestle.

Chop the chillies into quarters (if you really don’t like the heat, deseed or use less chillies) and process with the garlic, a touch of salt and a drizzle of oil. Throw in the pounded roasted seeds and whiz til you have a nice paste. The consistency I aimed for was runny enough to process easily but a paste rather than a slurry. I used raw sesame oil not necessarily out of authenticity, just because we’ve got a surplus of it at the moment.

The raw paste had a kick but a nice rounded flavour from the other herbs as well. Given that I have a heavy hand when it comes to heat, this quantity of paste would be enough for a meal of about 6 people with good tolerance, or two meals of 4 for those who like things a little milder.

Fish and vegetable ‘tagine’
(for 2-3 people)
Other than the harisa, most of the ingredients can be improvised, this is just a stew afterall!

vegetable oil
1-2 tablespoons of harisa
1 onion or 2 leeks, roughly sliced (I used 1 red onion and a baby leek in need of eating)
1 medium, sweet potato, peeled and cubed
1 medium fennel bulb, sliced into wedges
2 Japanese eggplants
6 large peeled tomatoes, roughly chopped (or if you don’t happen to have them in your garden I am sure a cans worth would be fine)

400 gm (200-250 gm per person) of white fish (I used flathead)
salt to taste

tahini

Rice, couscous or crusty bread to serve.

This is a slow cooked meal so allow at least 2 hours to cook or prepare. If I was going to do this in a tagine in the oven I’d allow 3 hours of cooking, starting in a cold oven.

Put a heavy based pot on low-medium heat, add a tablespoon of oil then fry off the harisa. Just a minute or two is enough. Add the onion or leeks, stir about for a while, then the rest of the vegetables. Once they are coated in the harisa, add the tomatoes. If they aren’t very juicy add some water or stock to make sure the vegetables are covered. Cover with a lid and once it has come to a gentle simmer put the heat way down low. Give it a stir every once and a while and check there is enough liquid. I’d suggest you aim for 90 minutes minimum. When the vegetables are tender, add the fish and cook for 3-6 minutes depending on the size of your chunks. Check for taste, season with salt if necessary (it will probably need a teaspoon or two of sea salt).

Serve on top of rice (it went well with brown rice) or couscous or just eat it with chunks of a decent, crusty bread. Drizzle a little tahini (sesame seed paste) on top before you dive in. This adds a lovely bit of body to the stew.

Oh boy this was good!

Some obvious variations: celery, carrots, potato, preserved lemons, fresh coriander to serve. Any firm white fish would work well but for the lovers of mussels and other things in shells they would be a winner too. If you want to make sure no shell or grit sullies your dish, cook the mussels etc separately in boiling water, then drain through muslin before adding to the cooked dish.

Enjoy.

the great tomato glut of 2009

Tomatoes

We’ve had literally buckets of them.

Who would have thought when the SE insisted we plant five of them (I thought the three I first bought were a little over the top for just the two of us) that he’d be away for 2/3 of the time they were in season.

Nor that when he finally came home in time to enjoy the last flush (a mere 10 kg to plough through before they rotted on the ground) after a day or two he’d embark on a water-only detox (he approaches health – good or bad, like an extreme sport).

We’ve given away more than we got a chance to eat but in a final sprint this week has been the festival of the tomato. Here’s a round up of my favourite tomatoey endeavours this season.

1. Whole tomato pasta

Slowly sauté onion and garlic, add whatever else is in the fridge. When the onions have softened throw in an abundant handful of cherry or tommy toe tomatoes and cook for 5-10 minutes. As they heat through, squish with the back of a wooden spoon. Toss through black olives (Kalamata, Ligurian etc), basil or parsley and season before serving with gluten-free pasta.

The “whatever else’ bit – zucchini, green beans, tuna, anchovies….

2. A rich tomato and kidney bean soup or stew

Cumin, coriander, onions, garlic, eggplant fresh from the garden, kidney beans (a handy can of the organic variety), lots of fresh tomatoes and whole Kalamata olives, This created a rich and juicy delight needing no added stock, just a little seasoning before serving. The original meal was somewhere between a soup and a stew, served with generous slices of fresh sourdough bread to dunk.

The next day I added some silverbeet/chard in desperate in need of using up and as the remains were not as soupy, I ate it on hot buttered toast for lunch.

3. The freshest Bloody Mary I’ve ever tasted

So good, there were a few repeat performances scouring the vines for the last pieces of fruit.

Tips and tricks: tommy toes are like bouncy balls that fit perfectly down the chute of the juicer. Unless you want your walls and white t-shirts looking like a massacre, while the machine is not running place about 4 whole tommies down the chute, cover with the plunger then turn it on.

Melrose organic Worcestershire sauce is worth the hunt.

Thanks to Ed’s comment I will try making it next time with pasata!

4. Two versions of pasata

It all started because I planned to make a big batch of roasted tomato soup to freeze. Roasting tomatoes is a no-brainer. The large, juicy grande lisse were halved and crammed into one baking tray, the free wheeling whole tommy toes in another. A sprinkle of salt and pepper and placed into the oven at 190c. The small ones took about half an hour, the large a further 10-15 minutes (in my oven at least).

On the first night, which was going to be for the soup, I slowly sweated onions and garlic in my big cast iron pot while the tomatoes roasted. When they were done and cool enough to handle, I just slipped the fruit out of their skin and dropped the pulp straight into the pot. There was lots of juice in the pan also, so I poured that in. I threw in some whole basil, a little sugar and salt, and then simmered for a while longer. The whole beautiful mess was blended (with the basil removed first). One taste convinced me to go no further with the soup idea. This is the perfect base for bean and vegetable stews, fishy casseroles, tomato sauces and of course diluted with good quality vegetable stock to make a great soup.

Night two – another bucket of tomatoes to dispatch, only the small ones this time I was considerably lazier. Simply roasted tomatoes whole, with lots of unpeeled garlic cloves thrown in for good measure. I love the mellow flavour of roasted garlic! Once cooked, the tomatoes are simply pinched between the fingers to de-skin and the garlic peeled. These went into a big mixing bowl, a little dissolved sugar and salt added and given a whirr with the stick blender. A much lazier exercise than the first batch but just as delicious.

The pasata, instead of being bottled or canned (no equipment and who can be bothered with all that fuss?) was ladled into containers and sits ready to be used, in the freezer.



Though a large glassful was leftover and beckons me from the fridge! Roasted tomato and garlic bloody Mary anyone?

5. Semi-dried tomatoes

This is where “laying down” the glut began. I’ve been vigilant due to the moisture content, to make sure they remain well covered with oil. It will only take a day or two on the bench for any bit sticking above the oil line to begin to grow mould. However I grew tired of this and now have thrown a handful of olives on top that act as weights and of course, they too can marinate in the great garlicky oil.

I’ve also added sprigs of basil to some of the jars too.

These semi-dried tiny tomatoes are plump, moist and delectable – they’ve found their way into scrambled eggs, pasta sauces, squished on garlic rubbed toast and been a star of the antipasto platter with the olives.

6. Au naturel

Sun warmed, straight off the vine and into the mouth.

In salads of every description.

As a snack.

On toast.

In roll-ups.



But now the time has come and the season is at an end for us. Though stay tuned and the great chilli glut of 2009 iscoming your way soon!