Baked fish with potatoes and asparagus

I’ve always been a tad contrary.

As blogging is in its final hour, I’ve got the urge to write again. Each day it seems another blogger from way back when is pulling up stumps. It gets tiring, that nagging voice in the back of your mind, to blog. We all run out of steam eventually. 

I have no desire to share my life story, publish a cookbook or be a photography wizard in this space, I’m just going back to my roots which are simply a food blog as a cook’s journal, my digital scribble of recipes created (and the occasional culinary failure) so I can remember them in future.  No pressure to post on schedule, or at all. I'm only popping back when something is worth reproducing. And bugger the grammar!

On holiday I stumbled upon a simple fish recipe that kept my diminutive New Zealand family happy. I adapted the original source that features salmon (though I eat it when I have no other choice, farmed and flabby Australasian salmon is a disappointing experience) and tweaked cooking times accordingly. It needed some jazzing up so I added olives, garlic and seasoning. Next time I’ll skip the balsamic (as I have done below) and top the finished dish with a capery-salsa verde, which I reckon will give the meal the added zip it needs.

Be my guest and use salmon if that’s the only fish you feel competent cooking, it will hold its shape well and is unlikely to offend. As I was in New Zealand I couldn’t go past the local fresh snapper but most fillets will work. If thin check at 7-8 minutes to see if cooked, otherwise thicker ones may require the full 15.

The original recipe calls for successive ingredients to be tossed together in the pan but I got all Virgo and kept them in neat layers.

Baked snapper with asparagus and potatoes

(Serves 3)

600g small new potatoes, scrubbed (I used Jersey Bennies but if you only have big old spuds, slice into 3 cm chunks)

3 cloves of garlic (skin on)

2 tabs olive oil

1 – 2 bunches of asparagus, woody parts removed

1 punnet cherry (or similar small) tomatoes

3 medium sized fish fillets (I used NZ snapper, which are quite thin but Blue Eye would also work well)

Sea salt

½ cup Kalamata olives (omit if serving with salsa verde)

To serve – lemon wedges or salsa verde (optional) 

Fire up the oven to 220c (fan) and find an oven dish (ceramic or metal) that will fit the potatoes in a single layer. If you don’t like washing up, line it with foil or parchment.

Tip a tablespoon of oil into a plastic bag or bowl and toss the spuds and garlic with a sprinkle of salt. Arrange in a single layer in the dish and bake for 20 minutes. Don’t chuck out the oil or bag just yet – add the asparagus to gently coat.

Remove from oven and give the spuds a good shake to loosen. Add the asparagus in a layer on top. If your tomatoes are a little on the large size, add them now as well. Just scatter around the pan. Cook for a further 15 minutes.

Remove from oven and give the pan another shake. Season the fish and lie on top of the asparagus, throw in some olives (and add the tomatoes now if tiny). Sprinkle the fish with the remaining tablespoon of oil. Bake 10 – 15 minutes until the fish is cooked.

Assemble equal quantities of vegetables and fish on each plate.

Serve as is, or with a wedge of lemon. If you’re in the mood, a spoonful of salsa verde on the fish would give it a gentle kick.

abundance: a report from the trenches

The barbecue’s been ignored for the last year of so since the Significant Eater became vegan. However the other day I got the urge.

But there was a bit of an access problem.

Parts of the garden have been abundant this year.

It has been a stellar year for grapes and tomatoes.

The eggplants weren’t so happy and got a nasty case of sunburn, while the strawberries totally gave up the ghost in the heat.

Some herbs thrived. The chives, chilli and Vietnamese mint got hidden under the sprawling tentacles of Tommy Toes. Providing perfect shelter on blistering days. Should I admit now, I barely watered my garden this summer?

Once more the let ‘em spread approach to tomato growing has come up trumps. While still young I stake the plants and that’s it. I let them free range. By not pinching out alternate laterals the greenery provides inbuilt sunshade. Early in summer I threw an old sheet over them on the worst of the hot days. Towards the end of the season I’ve given up.

It’s now late March and I’ve been harvesting tomatoes for a couple of months.

And those grapes, oh the grapes are dandy!

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.

Recipe: Fish cutlets in vine ripened tomato sauce

2011 has been about practicing mindfulness thus far for me. To date it has kept me in the moment when dealing with a new landlord (oh don’t get me started on that, it could waste a perfectly delightful moment as I sit at my desk on a sunny day writing) and stopped me from feeling too sorry for myself while succumbing to an annoying bug.

This being in the moment lark is not always easy. I remember Stephanie Dowrick writing years ago in the Saturday Age about the mindfulness of washing dishes but to be honest I’d prefer to be anywhere else than in the moment when undertaking that menial chore.

I see shopping for seasonal food as a central tenet of my practice. Going to the market with no fixed ideas of what to cook means some surprises in my basket. I recently ate a lot of daikon – stretching my cooking repertoire to using the green leaves in soup, the root raw in salads as a replacement for radish and a foray into stir fries for the crunch texture. Last week it was a wander through the fish hall for the freshest looking produce at the most reasonable price.

I returned home with modestly sized but thick, snapper cutlets with not a clue about how I’d cook them. I’ve ranted before about the Australasian phobia for fish on the bone but like most flesh, this makes it taste sweeter. The snapper is blessed with a medium sized spine with thickish ribs, making them an ideal fish to eat whole. The cutlets are also encased in omega rich skin so the whole piece is like a tidy package that stays together well when cooking. This is the ideal cut for those who can’t get through an entire fish or are working their way up to dealing emotionally with the beast. Being headless there are no eyes to distract the squeamish fish lover.

Fish cutlets are great to poach and stew as they keep their shape. With the garden bearing a host of love apples, tomatoes feature in much of what I'm cooking at the moment. I’m not sure the genesis of this recipe, finding none that fitted the bill, it came together from fragments of memory and imagination. Flying by the seat of my pants, in the moment, it turned out perfectly.


Fish in tomato and olive sauce
(serves 2)

2 tabs olive oil
2 large fish cutlets (or 4 small)
1 cup fish stock (vegetable or chicken stock would do)
1/2 cup white wine (optional)
A pinch of saffron threads, soaked in 2 tabs hot water
1 onion, chopped
A touch of chili, for subtle warmth (optional)
2-4 cloves of garlic (the more the better)
3-4 large, ripe tomatoes (or a cup or two of canned crushed tomatoes)
A decent handful, green beans, top and tailed
10 black olives (I like Kalamata)
Salt and pepper to season

Soak your saffron threads in a little hot water or stock.

Heat a heavy bottomed fry pan to medium to high, add half the olive oil and fry the fish for a minute or two both sides. This is to seal and colour the fish rather than to cook through. Put aside once seared.

Add the rest of the oil to the pan and sauté chopped onion. Because I was going to blitz the fresh tomatoes in the food processor I did the onions and garlic in it first, a great shortcut for a tired cook. Stir frequently ‘til translucent, then add the garlic and chili. After a minute or two pour in the crushed/blitzed tomatoes (mine were grand lisse still warm from the garden and perfectly ripe) wine and stock. If using warm stock, add the saffron to it for 10 minutes first, otherwise soak the saffron in warm water and add with the stock. This recipe works fine with just stock and no wine, though the alcohol adds depth of flavour. Reduce heat to a gentle simmer. After 5 minutes or so add the olives, green beans and fish. Depending on the thickness of the cutlets poach in the tomato sauce for 4-5 minutes each side ‘til cooked through.

Taste and season as required. Serve on rice or with crusty bread.

In the moment, my thoughts were on eating not photography. But feast your eyes on part of this morning's Tommy Toe haul.

I have difficulty letting go

Now it's the height of spring, the winter vegetables and herbs have bolted with the return of the sun and plentiful rain.

Reluctantly I annex a runway down the centre of the 9 square metre of garden to plant tomatoes. One Grosse Lisse and two of my favourites, Tommy Toes.

This means pulling up yet more man-sized patches of nettles. The sting is still virulent months after the plant is removed from the soil. (Note to self: If I'm to insist on letting the nettles grow of their own accord I really must plant some dock).

The kale has gone to flower. I'm enjoying the splash of yellow out my backdoor too much to unearth them as yet. The coriander, I bargain, can stay til there are seeds to harvest. The parsley is still edible, though the flavour grows stronger and more bitter by the day.

But really, I just can't let go.

Gardening, even on such a miniscule scale is like having a living Buddhist parable on my doorstep. One moment it looks perfect. Young green leaves to eat in salad, plump grapes on the vine. Weeds banished. The next, the fruit is rotting. The weeds have taken over. The herbs have bolted.

Impermanence.

Despite knowing nothing stays the same, that there is no point holding onto the past, I'm not ready to pull out the spent winter plants yet.

Just another week of soaking in their soothing shades of green.

Or until the tomatoes have grown enough.

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!

cheers!

As a tribute to the end of the tomato season in my inner-city garden, I made a fitting drink.

I mean, what else could I do? I’ve been up to my eyeballs in lycopenes for weeks (a full tomatoey round up is coming soon) and now it was time to farewell the lovable nightshade with appropriate aplomb.

The Bloody Carlton

Take a dozen Tommy Toe tomatoes straight from the garden and run through a juicer.

Combine with:
a nip or two of good quality vodka
a tsp or two of Organic Worstershire Sauce
a generous shake of Tabasco Sauce
a big squeeze of fresh lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste

Add ice, garnish with a stick of celery.




Stir, sip and give thanks to the goddess of small gardens.

semi-dried tommy toes

All the way across the world Wendy, in snowy Scotland, is drying tomatoes.

Here is sun-drenched Melbourne I am giving away more tomatoes than I can eat. For a very small garden we have been spoilt with produce. Right now the grapes are dripping off the vine, the hot chillies are ripening, we have been harvesting an eggplant or three a week since mid-January and there is an embarrassing abundance of Tommy Toe’s and Grosse Lisse.

Encouraged by Wendy’s winter efforts, last night I did the first batch of dried Tommy Toes. This is my favourite tomato, a large cherry style about 3-4 cm across that grows in a little vine.

Batch number one is “semi-dried”, still a bit moist rather than leathery. Halved and placed on a rack with a light sprinkle of caster sugar, salt and cracked pepper, I cooked them for about 2.5 hours in a 100c oven. We went to bed breathing in the fruit scented air, a miraculous aromatherapy cure - I slept til 9am!

This morning I packed the semidried tomatoes into recycled anchovy jars with organic olive oil and fresh local garlic. Not being fully dried, it will be important to keep them well covered in oil but what a fragrant dressing the excess oil will make!

Now, just waiting for some cool weather to do a second batch. With the current ant plague I don’t dare dry them au naturel in the sun.