another quickie

I’ve been a bit glass-half-empty of late, as we sprint towards the winter solstice.

On the upside I am embracing the food of the season. Currently on high rotation:

We’ve having a cavolo nero love for the last few week. My favourite so far is a long slow cook with onion, garlic and white wine, as part of a pasta sauce.

Carrots are particularly sweet and vibrant right now. I rediscovered my tin of zataar and added it to onion/garlic and grated carrots. The combo worked really well, especially when mixed with some canned tuna for a speedy meal on rice. (This may qualify as weird food confessions #1).

Rhubarb is in season once more. This was the winter fruit of my childhood, while everything else in the garden died with neglect or just gave up on the hard, clay soil – the rhubarb still thrives. Pity Wellington is a little too far away to pick a bunch whenever I want some. The last market batch was stewed up with sultanas, raw sugar and a splash of rosewater.

Porridge (oatmeal) is back on the breakfast menu. The past week I have soaked the oats then cooked them with some stewed rhubarb. Weird confession #2 is any leftover porridge – all pink and mushy - gets a quick warm through in a fry pan with a knob of butter then eaten as a dessert with a drizzle of maple syrup. I doubt you’ll find that one on Masterchef!

Though talking of unorthodox ways of eating oats, this recipe for skirlie over at Mostly Eating has me fascinated.

simple #2

It’s raining and windy. Not exactly cold but alluding to a wintry state. The stomach follows, desiring soup.

Food fit for those with a cold, time poor or hankering for warmth*.

Soup: Corn, onion, garlic, ginger, carrots and assorted greens. Simmered til soft in water. Chunks of white fish poached in the soup before serving. Then flavoured with miso and tamari. A few rice noodles to add ballast. Delicate and soothing.

The SE made what I would call a “boy’s soup”. What is it about some men and flavouring? Something akin to colour-blindness. An everything-but-the-kitchen-sink concoction, including Brussels sprouts, with the unusual addition of mixed spice. Don’t try this at home! My failure to appreciate did not bring good humour into the home.

Porridge: Oatmeal, call it what you will. This season’s combo is oats, leftover cooked brown rice if there is any about, and banana. After cooking I’ve added passionfruit, a dash of maple and soymilk.

Omelette: End of the week vegetables sautéed with onion and garlic, beaten egg and a few olives.

One pot or pan. Simple to make. Easy to digest.

Just hold the mixed spice and the sprouts!


* or all three in my case

National Porridge Day

I’ve just completed the first four steps of Flip Shelton’s advice on how to celebrate National Porridge day.

1. Start... slowly. Don't set the alarm.

2. Slip... into some woolly socks. (In this case a well worn woolly pair of ugg boots, bogan but toasty warm.)

3. Wander... into the kitchen and prepare a big bowl of Flip Shelton's fabulous new "five-grain porridge" with rolled oats, rye, barley, triticale and spelt.

4. Go... back to bed with your bowl of porridge or sit comfortably and eat slowly.

I managed to do all this without even consulting the website. How instinctive am I! But perhaps the 5th step which involves more activity (walking, pottering or generally communing with nature beyond the confines of the bedroom) will have to wait a while longer.

During the week a pack of the aforementioned “Five-grain Porridge” landed on my desk. My working life finds the odd freebie falling in my lap but rarely anything edible. As a longtime lover of porridge I was a little skeptical that this grainy, not overly processed, mix would require no cooking as it claimed. Simply a case of ‘just add (boiling) water’, cover, have your shower, then add your desired accompaniments and eat.

So I did.



The result. The grains were softened but still had a lot texture. The temperature was lukewarm after the addition of soy, a drizzle of maple syrup and a sprinkling of walnuts. Though certainly a more nutritious option than the popular instant varieties on the supermarket shelf, next time I will make it the traditional way.



But eating a bowl of porridge in bed is always a pleasant way to start the day.

If like me you are taking your time over step 4, the history of porridge makes an interesting read.

journeys with my thermos

With all this talk about lunch lately – I thought it was time to discuss essential gadgets for eating on the go. When it comes to food on the run, my one and only is the humble thermos flask.

You may have noticed that not a single recipe on the site uses the miraculous “kitchen TV”. I have not been taught to salivate, Pavlovian like, at the ping of at microwave. I don’t like what they do to the texture of food nor wish to trust my health to one for the sake of so-called convenience, let’s leave it at that.

So, enter the thermos. This simple device keeps food and drinks hot or cold. It means you can eat when you are out and about without a power source or any other equipment. It is the ultimate recyclable food or beverage container.

Here are a few notable uses of mine:

Thermos porridge: Think cooking oatmeal conventionally takes too long or is too messy to clean up? Try this simple recipe I got from a hippy book written in the 70’s.

Before going to bed, first warm your thermos with some boiling water for about 10 minutes. Take 1/2-1 cup whole rolled oats and twice as much boiling water (or boiling milk of some kind) and pour into a wide-mouthed thermos. You can add sultanas or dried cranberries if you like, a little cinnamon or nutmeg – whatever accoutrements suit your palate. Screw the lid on well. You can wrap it in a towel too if you want extra insulation if it is somewhere cold.

In the morning – wherever you are – simply pour out the contents (into the handy bowl/cup that sits on the top if you are away from home). Voila – porridge. A healthy, warm, sustaining breakfast of champions.

Soup in the snow: I used to go out with a snow bunny. I will be forever grateful for him taking me on my first trip to Lake Mountain. For a kiwi who’d only skied downhill before, cross country skiing amongst the gum trees, on a blue skied winter's day was one of the most beautiful experiences I have had in Australia. What made it even better was the trusty thermos.

The night before I made a pot of hearty bean and vegetable soup. Getting up at the crack of dawn, I heated the pot on the stovetop while I showered the sleep from my eyes and donned my thermal clothing. Once again I warmed the thermos, poured in the aromatic soup and headed off in the car a few hours out of Melbourne to the snow. I can assure you that after a morning of falling on my derriere, soup has never tasted so good! He did his part by carrying one of those blue thermal mats for us to sit on and we dined amongst the snow gums. The perfect winter picnic.

Some people have even be known to take soup to work for lunch.

Pre-theatre drinks: In the final days of the docks before it became an artificial city, some of the old buildings that once stored cargo were put to a good use as a venue for dance parties and theatre. One spring evening I caught the tram down to see a performance with a friend and sat on the edge of the old docks with a flask of perfectly cool cocktails – brandy, freshly squeezed orange juice and ice. Very pleasant and ultimately more memorable than the show.


The thermos was invented in 1892. I wonder if the microwave oven will be so widely used and loved 115 years on from it's inception?