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.

fire and ice aka summer gardening in Melbourne

By the way, blogger tells me this is my 600th post. Who'd have thunk it?

The subversive plot has suffered neglect, golf-ball sized hail and days of scorching heat in the 40c’s over the last few weeks. On my return after Christmas, I was surprised to find I had anything left at all after the hailstorm.

My lazy gardening strategy of letting the tomatoes range with minimal intervention, that served me so well in the 2009 heatwave, continues to pay off. While a small amount of fruit was damaged (especially of the larger sized tomatoes), the majority has survived.

While the tomatoes are staked and pruned haphazardly at best, the strawberries require a little intervention. After watching the first two berries ripen, only to be nabbed by the birds before I could pick them, a couple of dollars of netting was a suitable investment. The old, concertina-style wine rack was also repurposed.

I possibly lost some of the eggplants, as there was a glut of flowers that set over a month ago. But I spied one, hidden at the back growing contentedly. The hail/heat cycle appears to have triggered a second round of flowers.

January 9sqM garden round up

Tomatoes – Burnley Surecrop and two Tommy Toes producing a steady stream of fruit. The perfect amount for a two-person household so far but weather catastrophes willing, there should be a glut in a month or to be roasted, pureed and frozen. I thought I'd lost the two other seedlings planted late, but they're just crowded out by the older siblings.

Strawberries – so many plants but on average only 2 or 3 ripe ones to nibble on each day.

Carrots – thought I’d harvested them all a month ago but found 4 or 5 decent ones this weekend. Still sweet, not woody.

Parsnip – like the carrots I’d thought I’d had the last of them but just spied a lurker this morning.

Silverbeet/chard – most now gone to seed and removed (lots of seed saving first) but a couple of plants soldiering on with new leaves.

Sorrel – looking a bit worse for wear after the hailstorm. Hanging in there, just.

Chives – robust small tuft planted in garden continuing to produce.

Parsley – garden patch gone to seed, after cutting back some edible leaves still usable.

Chilli – having removed my prolific plant when the garden was regenerated earlier in the year, the replacement is flowering but not fruiting as yet.

Tarragon – in a pot competing with weeds, the herb you use least always seems to last the longest.

Mint – has survived in a pot for another year. Thanks to the higher than usual rainfall it’s still lush and green.

Rosemary – stunted bush in a pot, waiting to be strewn on roasted potatoes.

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.

vignettes

What you need comes to you

I tripped off to the new(ish) Fitzroy market on Saturday before Armageddon hit. It reminded me of Glebe market when I first went there twenty-something years ago. Smaller. But Has Promise.

The rent from the stalls at the market goes to Fitzroy School’s Kitchen Garden project. That’s reason enough to support it.

A couple of days before I’d made a batch of marinated olives. Carbon dating the original recipe*, I scribbled it down and first made them in the mid ‘80s. It’s a simple concoction – a few herbs, good Kalamata olives, a decent olive oil. I’d assembled the marinade bar one vital ingredient – a couple of bay leaves. Too bad I thought, I'm sure it will be ok without it. And forgot about it.

At the Fitzroy market my eyes fell upon a big tub of laurel branches, a generous stallholder giving them away. Take two they urged. No one’s enough there’s so many leaves on the branch. A nice chat, then off home with the lush foliage peeking out of my bag.

The missing bay leaves, fresh and vibrant, now added to the marinated olives.





Follow your instincts

Before I skipped out the door in the last of the sunlight, I’d put the tagine in the laundry tub to soak. The terracotta pot, when not used every day, needs a bit of a dip, time to dry and then a rub with oil to season it before cooking.

At lunchtime I whipped up a simple vegetable tagine with a big dob of harissa from my freshly harvested chillies, threw in some left over green olives and gently put it in a cold oven. The plan was to cook it all afternoon on very low (about 125C) and forget about it til dinner.

With the sun still high in the sky but feeling a little lazy after my morning wander, I drove rather than walked the kilometre or so up the road and submitted myself to a much needed massage.

Relaxed and a little dazed I stumbled out onto the darkened street and wondered where I was. Had I been transported to a winter’s afternoon in London? Not even 3 and the sky was so dark, every car had its lights on. Coming back to my senses, I was full of foreboding and started driving home. In the short trip the sky opened and pelted me with hail. It was a storm on monolithic proportions.

Safely inside, the house was infused with the aroma of the slow cooking tagine, locals tweeted amazing images of impromptu rivers running down city streets, hail stones the size of lemons and general chaos.

It was quite a storm.

And quite a tagine!


veggie tagine ready for a long slow cook: eggplant, pumpkin, leeks, fennel, green olives, parsnip, homegrown cherry tomatoes and harissa

Seasons

I don’t need a calendar to know when autumn has arrived. Nor look for fallen leaves to crunch under my feet. Autumn officially begins the morning I awake craving porridge (oatmeal) and when I get the urge to make a big pot of soup.

Today is the day. Goodbye summer. Farewell asparagus. See you later berries. Bring on the pumpkin!

Porridge for breakfast (with crushed nuts and maple syrup) and a pot of autumn vegetables and bean soup cooking on the stove.

I'm ready!


*Marinated olives


The original recipe
(Source unknown)
2 c Kalamata olives
1 c olive oil
3 cloves garlic, crushed
2-3 dried red chillies, crushed
2 bay leaves

Mix ingredients in a bowl then transfer to a sterilized jar. Marinate for 1 week, stirring occaisionally. Use the marinade for salad dressings etc or reuse.

My version
In a clean jar combine fresh chillies, black pepper corns, bay leaves and lots of garlic with the best quality olives and olive oil you can find. Keep out of direct light, at room temperature and try to resist eating them for at least a week. Shake the jar daily.

taking tea

As if a lightening bolt had cleaved my head, in a Covent Garden's tea shop I had an epiphany. I’d always known I didn’t like the taste of tea but it wasn’t until the moment that I inhaled some fragrant blend that I understood my distaste for the drink went deeper than whimsy. As soon as those volatile oils hit my olfactory senses a searing pain went through my temple. I realised black tea and me could never be friends.

Having a similarly dislike for patchouli I could never be a hippy but developed a fondness from herbal teas in my teens. Around the time I discovered tofu - rosehips, hibiscus and lemongrass also came into my life. As a student in New Zealand living in draughty dank shared houses through endless winters, large pots of herbal tea got me through the darkest months.

Fortunately in London I lived in a house with vast jars of wholefoods in the cupboards, beancurd in the fridge and array of herbal teas. My pregnant housemate drunk buckets of raspberry leaf but there was almost every other herb under the sun on hand. But once out of the house there was a problem. I soon discovered that in the land of tea drinkers saying no to a cup of tea was just not on. A cup of the awful swill was an invitation to share a person’s company and refusal was tantamount to a slap in the face. It took a London friend to spell out this strange social ritual and come up with a solution that perhaps only a wacky Antipodean could get away with, for the next year I carried a supply of herbal tea bags with me so I could whip one out whenever the offer of tea arose.

British coffee, at home or in cafes, was so awful in the ‘80s that I gave it up. I had to go to France to get a decent cup!

These days most the herbs I drink are fresh from the garden. A handful of peppermint or lemon balm can be refreshingly cooling on a summer’s day. But in winter a rich, warm blend born in those chilly student houses comforts me to my core.

Hibiscus flowers dry to a deep crimson and are often used as a natural colour booster in tea blends and punches. They taste quite astringent with a citrusy edge. After infusing for a while the tea turns the deepest of reds, with an intense flavour. Like many red plant foods, scientists are turning to hibiscus as a possible source of antioxidants. The herb is a favourite in Egypt and most hibiscus tea on the market still originates from that country.

I’ve been asked to share my winter tea recipe and must admit that I'd never considered posting something so simple before. Quantities are to taste as each palate is different. The longer it infuses the deeper the flavour and it becomes quite a different drink. To see if you like it, make a decent sized pot of the blend and pour a small cup to sample every five minutes til you find the perfect drawing time for your desires.

As with all teas, quality is paramount. By organic herbs if possible but freshness is paramount. Always store dried herbs in an airtight jar and keep in a cool dark place. Heat and light are the enemies of flavour and old or poorly stored herbs can taste dull and dusty.

As for tea bags, keep them for emergencies only or when visiting Britain.

Winter warming tea

The combination of the acidity of the hibiscus and acridness of the ginger is mellowed by the natural sweetness of liquorice. The longer it is brewed the more tangy heat the ginger imparts.

2 parts dried hibiscus flower

1 part dried liquorice root

1 part fresh ginger root, finely sliced (of a pinch dried)

Warm your favourite teapot, add the herbs and cover generously with boiling water. Let it brew for at least 5 minutes.



What is your favourite herbal tea combination?


This post is part of Weekend Herb Blogging, hosted this week by Cheryl at Gluten Free Goodness. Incidentally my winter tea is gluten-free, sugar free and lactose free, unlike the black chewy confectionary also known as liquorice!

cooking with fire

What is it about barbecues that is associated with the domain of men? I’ve never lived with a barbecuing fanatic before, which could be why I have got to this age of life before a gas fired beauty has come into my life. The SE loves the new barbie but, at least is theory, is happy to hand over the reigns at any time. So last night was my turn to be in charge of the new, backyard, basic model, grilling machine.

The most obvious place to start was a whole fish and one of those grill cages made to contain such a beast. The sultry weather of late makes me think of Asian flavours, especially as there was a bunch of coriander in the fridge in need of using. While cruising the net I found this great guide in Taste on how to barbecue whole fish and was thrilled to find they’d included a version using the flavours I had imagined. I’ve altered the method and a few of the ingredients from the original recipe.

Barbecued whole fish with coriander and fish sauce

First catch your fish, or visit your fishmonger. Our fish grill comfortably accommodated a 1.4 kg red snapper. Get the good people at the fish shop to clean, gut and de-scale the creature before taking it home. Look for a 1-2 kg fish with firm flesh; snapper is always a winner in this house.

1-2 kg whole fish
Vegetable oil
Fresh coriander
Fresh Vietnamese mint
1-2 red chillies
1-2 cloves of garlic

1/4 cup lime juice
1 – 1.5 tabs fish sauce
2 tsp palm sugar
1-2 tsp roasted sesame oil (optional)

Take your fish, pat it dry inside and out with paper towels. Make slashes through the thickest part of the flesh, to help both the heat and flavour penetrate.

Take a handful of coriander/cilantro (leaves and stalks) and another of Vietnamese mint (or regular mint), 1 sliced chilli and a clove of garlic thinly sliced and stuff the belly of the fish.

Combine the lime juice, fish sauce, palm sugar and sesame oil in the bowl. Play with the quantities til you have a favourable balance of salt, acid and sweetness. I like a dash of sesame oil these days to add a touch of smoky depth to the flavour. Using some extra herbs (coriander, mint, chilli and garlic if you like) chop finely and add to your marinade and combine well. Use some of the marinade to brush the fish on both sides, pushing the sauce into the slashes as well. There will be a lot of marinade left over, this is to pour on the fish once it is cooked. If you wish you can leave the fish, covered in a pan or on a board, for 10-20 minutes to let it soak up a little of the marinade. As it is more a gentle painting of sauce, rather than a bath, the timing doesn’t matter too much.

Take a fish grill gadget and brush or rub it with some vegetable oil to stop the fish from sticking. Gently place the fish in the grill and close it.

Fire up the open grill side of the barbecue (rather than the flat plate). Give it five minutes to warm up before adding the fish. For this sized fish I cooked each side for 8 minutes on moderate heat, then a final 2 minutes on high.

When cooked, carefully remove the fish from the grill and slip onto a serving plate. Pour the rest of the marinade over the fish immediately.

To Serve

I made a double quantity of marinade and used it as a dressing for a simple noodle salad with rice noodles, toasted cashews, cucumber and generous handfuls of coriander and Vietnamese mint.

Arrange the noodle salad on the plate, then top with chunks of fish. Perfect!

I also grilled some eggplant straight from the garden to serve with the meal.


The fish was perfect. The skin was crunchy, salty and beautifully grilled. The noodle salad reinforced the subtle flavours of the fish and solicited four “This is f**king fantastic” gasps from the SE.

A winner!



One side cooked, the eggplants doing their bit beside it

whole Kingfish with turmeric and ginger: HotM 15

What a delightful Thursday I had sharing my regular market wanderings with a fellow blogger. I don’t joke when I refer to Vic Market as my church and the pursuit of fresh produce as my religion. How reassuring it is when you find others with the same outlook on life and a shared passion for healthy food.

After wandering through the organic section (a post on kohlrabi coming soon but I think I need some help, ideas anyone?), sharing the highlights of the conventional stalls (here’s the kangkung, there’s the samphire, don’t the different mushrooms look wonderful), a whirlwind tour of the Asian supermarket (Hawthorn berry sweets and umeboshi vinegar for me, ginkgo nuts for her), there was only a few minutes of precious parking meter time left to grab some fish for dinner. Prossers always has a fine line up of whole fish. It’s the place to find bonito and other species that are less popular with the masses. The freshest fish in a two person (and a couple of hopeful felines) size was a kingfish, with the telltale yellow tail. Time to try a new fish I reckoned.

The herb of the day was a small piece of uber-fresh, baby turmeric root. It is a member of the ginger family and its earthy coolness goes well with its cousin ginger whose characteristics are hotter, spicier and a little acrid.



With a little playing around over the last year I am no longer intimidated about making up a spice paste. Something once exotic and mysterious has become demystified as just another way to use flavours. I figured I would use what was on hand to make a bit of slurry to rub into the whole fish, wrap it in foil and let it marinate for half an hour before putting it into a moderate oven. You might have other spices you like, so just use them instead. Go on - be brave!


Whole Kingfish with turmeric and ginger
(Serves 2-4 depending on appetites and side dishes, for a larger fish scale up the paste and increase the cooking time)

I whole fish (750 g for 2-3 people)

Blend the following in a food processor:

a small knob of fresh turmeric*
a small knob of ginger
1 small onion (or a couple of shallots)
4 cloves of garlic
1 Birdseye chilli

Dry roasted these spices in a pan for a couple of minutes and pounded in mortar and pestle:

1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp fennel
1 tsp coriander seeds

Add the dry herbs above and below to the blended wet herbs in the food processor and give it a whirr.
1 tsp Sri Lankan curry powder (just for an extra kick but you could add more of the dry roasted spices and chilli if you don’t have any)
a pinch of salt

Finally moisten the mix with 1-2 tablespoons tamarind water (or just plain water of coconut milk if you’d prefer)

Cut three slits in the fish on each side. Rub the paste into the fish, including the slits and gut cavity. Wrap in alfoil or parchment (a healthier option). Leave to marinate 30 minutes.




Bake 180c for about 30 minutes. Test the flesh to see if it is cooked.


I’ve long talked of the joys of cooking whole fish, like meat (the carnivores assure me) the flavour is better when cooked on the bone. Fish, which we know is full of health giving oils and provides a very digestible form of protein, is even more affordable when purchased this way. The kingfish above cost around Au$10 and with the side dishes I ended up making could have happily served 4. The benefits of preparing fish this way are numerous – a meal full of omega 3’s, healthy herbs and a ‘fat-free’ method of cooking as the fish quietly steams in its own juices. What is more the dish is gluten-free, dairy-free and it is also a breeze to clean up afterwards.

I served this with a mild vegetable curry (orange and green vegetables plus chickpeas and cashews) and basmati rice. The spices blended well with both the vegetables and the flavour of the fish, an oily member of the tuna family, mackerel or bonito would work equally as well. Even the cats liked it!

This is my inaugural entry in the Heart of the Matter, which considering it is a food blogging event that promotes healthy, heart friendly food is right up any food nazi’s alley. This month's theme is healthy herbs and is hosted by the accidental scientist.



* while fresh is always best, if the root is unavailable it can be substituted with a heaped teaspoon of dried turmeric.

Sunday pictorial: the making of food

It all begins here. This is the view from our 2nd toilet. In real estate speak this is a 2 bathroom, 2 laundry, 2 bedroom terrace house. While I’ve never had to rely on the outdoor amenity it comes in handy some mornings. I don’t mind a quiet sit out here, to gaze at the grape vine, lemon tree and tarragon while contemplating the universe.



Over the long weekend we finally cleaned out the junk that had accumulated in the outdoor bathroom - garden chairs, a wood burning bbq, cardboard boxes, an unused table. Things crammed into spaces without thought. Now the garden is up and running I thought it made sense to create some order so we can store the tools, pots, potting mix and move the worm farm out of the direct sun and into the shade of the shower stall.



We bung some nails in the wall to hang up the tools of the trade.



The seedlings we planted after the heat of the Indian summer had ended are starting to look like food.



Well, some of the bugs think so already.



This might be tabouleh when it grows up.


So how does your garden grow?

steamed Monk fish

I recorded my initial foray into steaming fish last year. This time I decided to follow things ‘by the book’, well not quite – there is always the inevitable ingredient twist with me. The book in this case was the Significant Eater’s well worn “The Essential Seafood Cookbook”.

I chose monk fish because it was the best option at the fishmonger’s and I’d never eaten it before. It looked fresh and a small enough in size to fit 4 fillets in my largest bamboo steamer. This was a simple meal that met both good health and great flavour requirements. It was served with some steamed potatoes, a mixed salad and a cauliflower salad. It went down a treat.

Steamed fish with ginger and chilli

4 fillets of white fish
5cm piece of ginger root, shredded
2-4 kaffir lime leaves, shredded (the original recipe calls for 2 tabs coriander stalks)
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 red chilli with a bit of a kick
a splash of fish sauce (optional)
2-3 spring onions, finely sliced on the diagonal
lemon or lime juice

Line the steamer basket with baking paper (or banana leaves if you are going all out for presentation) so the fish won’t stick.

Mix the ginger, lime leaves, garlic and chilli in a bowl and add a splash of fish sauce.

Arrange the fish to lie flat in the steamer basket, the cover with the herb mix. This can be spread quite thinly as the herbs can be over powering for some with a more delicate palate.

Put enough water into the wok so it won’t boil dry, nor be too high to touch the bottom of the steamer. Place on the heat, then position the basket and cover it.

Steam 8 minutes, then add the spring onions and citrus juice. It will need a further 30 sec to a minute or 2, until the fish begins to flake.

Serve immediately with a wedge of lemon or lime.

Serves 4 with vegetables/salads/rice


getting ready to steam

Strangely this dish was not dissimilar to my original steaming effort, it just goes to show it is worth following your instincts sometimes.

WHB #95 - tortilla with a sting

Nettles: I asked and you told me - ‘use it like spinach’ and soon I discovered that this herb with a sting is easily tamed into a sweet bunch of greens.

The darling Mrs Grieve gives many culinary uses for nettles. The nettle pudding – a mix of nettles, green vegetables and rice, boiled in salty water in a muslin bag sounded interesting. Maybe later. But for my nettle initiation I decided to go back to first principles of exploring new flavours by cooking them with eggs. At first I decided to blanch some young nettle tops and add them to a tortilla Español. A little bit of greens would go well with some potato and olives I reckoned. While I started slowly cooking the spuds and onions, I dunked the nettles into hot water. About 30 seconds later I took them out to drain.

Then I did a stupid thing - I tasted them!

No, my throat didn’t swell from the nettles sting. I just fell in love with its sweet flavour, not a whisper of a barb. One minute I was squeezing out the water by rolling the blanched nettles in a clean tea towel and the next, without thinking, I had chopped the log into rounds, dressing them with a little sesame oil – and finished the lot.

Round two, the next day I was determined to marry the eggs and herbs. Simpler this time, I slowly cooked some onion and a little garlic in olive oil. To the garden, well gloved, once more I cut a whole bowlful of green tops then carefully chopped, the same rough cut I would do with parsley. With the onions well sweated I tossed in the nettles a bit at a time, with some semidried tomatoes. When all the nettles had cooked through, in came a couple of fresh, beaten eggs with just a smidge of salt and pepper. Call it an omelette, frittata or tortilla – I prefer to cook it the Spanish way – over low heat with a lid on, til cooked.



The verdict. Though packed with greens, the herby taste was barely noticeable. This is a sneaky way to up the nutrient content of a humble dish. But I think I need a few more hits of the sweet nettles, blanched and simply dressed before the season ends


WHB #95 is being hosted by Melissa from Cooking Diva. Don't forget to check out all the other herbal and vegetable creations that will be up on her site in a couple of days.


(Hmmm it's now friday - let's hope Melissa gets home from her trip and puts WHB up soon!)

nettles anyone?

The lushest crop in my garden right now are self-seeded nettles. More worryingly they first showed their little faces at the beginning of winter - note in these parts of the world the urticas are a spring herb. They've held their own through these chilly months, actually they've thrived and I am left wondering - is there anything edible I can do with them?

Fresh nettles are great for hayfever but the allergy season hasn't started. It's also an iron rich, skin friendly tea. But food? Nettle soup is the obvious choice - has anyone ever actually eaten it and can describe the flavour? I'd be thinking a vegan version: nettles, good vege stock and a potato to thicken it. Ideas please!