Musical Monday: Eat It Don't Tweet It

I know this has been around for a while, but it's still merits sharing. What did you photograph in the weekend?

Sweet sweet Friday: Chocolate Swirl Cake

I have always, always wanted to make this cake. Well, maybe not always, but at least since 2004, when it graced the front cover of Julie Le Clerc's Feast @ home. It's a blessed union of chocolate, cream cheese, butter and eggs and I have thought about making it for years, even when my copy of the book was 12,000 miles away in a box in my brother's shed. Especially then, in fact.
Now, with the remains of it wrapped in tinfoil in the fridge, I can't wait to make it again. Once you've made it, you'll feel the same way.

Chocolate Swirl Sliver Cake
It took the April edition of We Should Cocoa, hosted by Choclette, to prompt me to dig out Feast @ Home (which naturally fell open to the page the cake is on). Julie Le Clerc says eating it will "remain with you as one of those 'died and gone to heaven' experiences", which is true. She also says to serve it in small slivers, as it is very rich. This is also true, but in our house at least we have found that one small sliver is not as good as two. Or three. Julie also says it serves 16, but at the moment it is serving two very greedy adults (one of whom claims not to like cream cheese in anything) perfectly nicely and neither of us are interested in sharing it.

250g cream cheese, at room temperature
2/3 cup caster sugar
1 large egg, at room temperature
1tsp pure vanilla extract

150g butter
300g good quality dark chocolate (I used Whittakers 72% Dark Ghana)
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1/3 cup sugar
1Tbsp strong coffee, cooled
pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 150C fan bake. Grease and line a 22cm springform cake tin (Julie says some people find it overflows a 22cm tin, but it was fine for me).
Put the cream cheese and sugar in a bowl and beat with an electric mixer until smooth. Add the egg and vanilla and beat to combine, then set aside.
Melt the chocolate and butter together, either in the oven as it heats up (the way I always do it), in a double boiler or in the microwave. Set aside to cool slightly.
Place the eggs, sugar, coffee and salt in another bowl and whisk with an electric mixer for five minutes, or until very thick and pale. Gradually add the melted chocolate and butter mixture while continuing to whisk until combined.
Pour this batter into the prepared cake tin. Dollop big spoonfuls of the cream cheese mixture on top. Push a blunt knife or small spatula into the mixture and swirl around to marble it (this is good fun). Knock the tin with your hand to settle the mixtures, then bake for 40-45 minutes untila skewer inserted comes out sticky but not liquid coated. Leave to cool completely in the tin before serving.

Recipe from Feast @ Home (Penguin NZ, 2004) reproduced with the kind permission of Julie Le Clerc.

Have a great weekend, everyone - see you for some non-baking-related fun next week!

Ginger Kiss-off

"If I'd known you were coming I would have baked something."

Sound familiar? Random Recipes for April has a baking theme - and I thought it would be just a matter of pulling out a recipe book, letting the pages fall open at a certain spot and getting on with it. But then, I didn't count on my random recipe being the Ginger Kisses from the Edmonds' Classics Cookbook.

Now, I have always had a soft spot for bought ginger kisses - the sort that come in packs of six at the supermarket - and I made some really good ones a few years ago while staying with my in-laws. I must have used some secret West Coast recipe though, because the Edmonds' ones just weren't the same. I made them on a Sunday afternoon just before our neighbours came over for a drink (otherwise known as, 'let's get our children to entertain each other in those shouty hours between 4 and 6pm while we relax with a glass of wine').

Everyone else seemed to enjoy them - well, our neighbours were probably being polite, but the BW thought they were fine - but I thought they were a bit dry. Afterwards, while pondering where I went wrong, I suddenly remembered the ones I'd made so long ago were actually an Alison Holst recipe, which you can find here.

While I don't think the Edmonds' recipe is worth sharing, at least not until I've made it better, I must tell you about the filling I invented to replace the mock cream (ick). This would work well in anything needing a squidge of cream. Just whip about 200ml of cream to soft peaks, then fold through 1/3 cup good marmalade (and perhaps a little whisky, if you feel so inclined). Dollop between ginger kisses, layers of sponge or sit back and eat with a spoon.

What's your go-to 'people have turned up unexpectedly' baking treat? I recommend this one.

Baked kumara, Hawaiian style

The other day I made the Small Girl a real treat for lunch. She was excited enough to start with, but by the time the sitting down to eat it came she threw a huge tantrum and did lots of shouting. Most of the time I would find this behaviour extremely disheartening, if not upsetting, but in this particular instance I sat at the table and ate it myself.

Baked Kumara
I remember my mum making these for lunch for the two of us and I used to make them a lot when I was a poor student. If you can suspend your disbelief for a moment, the salty/sweet Hawaiian pizza combo of pineapple and cheese really is delicious. Kumara - a better version of what the rest of the world knows as sweet potato - is very good for you. I think one kumara per person is good for lunch, but half one should be ample as an accompaniment to a pork chop or similiar. Just don't go putting pineapple on that.

For two people
2 kumara or sweet potato, scrubbed but not peeled
2 handfuls grated cheddar
2 slices of pineapple (the sort that comes in juice, not syrup, if you're getting it out of a tin), diced
1 handful sunflower seeds

Preheat the oven to 200C and put the washed kumara on an oven tray. Bake for about 40-60 minutes, until a skewer pierces the flesh easily. Remove from the oven and let cool for five minutes.
Carefully slice them in half and scoop the flesh into a bowl. Mash with a fork and stir in the pineapple and most of the cheese. Season well with salt and pepper, then scoop this mixture back into the waiting shells. Sprinkle the sunflower seeds and reserved cheese over the top. Return the filled kumara to the oven for another 15 minutes, until they are crispy and golden on top.

Do you have food wars in your house?

Musical Monday: Good Intent

Sweet sweet Friday: Anzac Biscuits

I am a bad New Zealander. It used to be that I never felt remotely patriotic, ever, about where I came from, just a slightly sinking feeling that it wasn't somewhere exotic. Then we moved to the UK and I felt even less proud of my country, especially seeing hordes of drunken, obnoxious Kiwis doing hakas in public places. Then the London bombings happened and, that morning at work while pandemonium reigned around us, I thought, "actually, I quite like coming from an unimportant country from the bottom of the world, and I am very lucky that I can go back there whenever I like".

But I feel like an especially bad New Zealander at this time of year because I've never been to an Anzac Day dawn service. I have, however, made and eaten a lot of Anzac biscuits. And the first notes of the Last Post reduces me to tears, every single time. I hope that counts for something.

Anzac Biscuits 2012
This is a 'new' version of the traditional Anzac biscuit, which was originally made to withstand the long voyage by sea to reach soldiers fighting abroad. I'm not sure what those men, some of them little more than teenagers, would think of it, but perhaps it's not so much about the biscuit but what it represents - a little bit of love from home. It makes a very crunchy, almost lacy biscuit - not dunking material, I'm afraid, but still good. This recipe comes from the Chelsea Sugar Refinery, which turns Australian sugar cane into New Zealand sugar (how Anzac is that?) And, at the risk of sounding overly patriotic, New Zealand golden syrup is SO much nicer than the English version!

100g butter
2 Tbsp golden syrup
1/2 cup raw sugar
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 Tbsp boiling water
1/2 cup plain flour
1/2 cup coconut
3/4 cup rolled oats
1/3 cup mixed seeds - sunflower, pumpkin, sesame etc

Preheat oven to 180C and line a baking tray.
Melt the butter, golden syrup and sugar together over low heat, then set aside. Mix the baking soda and water together, then add this to the butter mixture. Stir in all the dry ingredients and mix well.
Put tablespoons of the mixture on the prepared tray - leave room for spreading - and flatten gently with your hands. Bake for 10-15 minutes until golden. The biscuits will be very soft, so let them firm up on the tray before transferring them to a rack to cool. They will become chewier after a day or two (if they last that long). Makes about 18.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

Jenny's Cheesy Potatoes

My sister-in-law is coming to stay again tonight - yes, even after I told you she's an all-singing, all-dancing party girl who likes nothing better than a night out on the tiles.

She was keen to hit the town again but my liver all but curled up in protest. So tonight we're eating in. I was keen to show her my version of her all-time classic cheesy potatoes, but a quick inspection of the cupboards has just shown we don't have any potatoes. Hmmm. Oh well, I'll show you instead.

Jenny's Cheesy Potatoes
You might look and this and think, 'so?', but if you knew how incredible this combination of slightly caramelised onions, fluffy-on-the-inside-crunchy-on-the-outside potatoes and melted cheese smells, you would rush right into your kitchen and make it. I've added cumin seeds here, because I love that Dutch gouda with cumin, but you could leave them out. We ate these with barbecued butterflied lamb at Easter, but you could dish up a plateful with a really crisp green salad and happily call it dinner.

For a roasting dish full:
2 brown onions
Potatoes - as many as you think will fit
1Tbsp cumin seeds
2-3 generous handfuls of grated tasty cheese

Preheat the oven to 200C and oil a roasting dish. Peel the potatoes and cut in half. Put in a large pot and cover with water, then parboil until just tender when pierced with a knife. Drain well and shake about in the pot to get some rough edges.
Slice the onions and spread on the roasting dish. Top with the potatoes, then sprinkle on the cumin seeds and cheese. Bake for at least 30 minutes, until the cheese has melted down into the onions and everything is golden. A few charred onions only add to the deliciousness. Makes a lot - don't worry, you'll eat every last bit, including the burnt bits off the roasting dish when no one is looking.

One tequila, two tequila...

... three tequila, floor. Right? Well, not necessarily. At least, not when it's Sunday afternoon and you are mindful of driving home. But it turns out that there's mucho mucho more to tequila than those bottles of Jose Cuervo you see in recycling bins outside student flats. Real tequila, which has the same sort of 'terroir' status as Parma ham or roquefort, is smooth and smoky and eminently drinkable.
You can learn more about my local Mexican joint and the tequila they serve here, but the best way to learn more about tequila is to go there and try them for yourself. Go on, it'll be fun. Just don't ask me to drive you home.

Image via here

My tequila tasting was followed by a quick lesson in tortilla making. Now, I think I am pretty good at flatbreads, but these were something else, thanks mainly to the white masa harina (corn flour) they were made from. Watching the chef make them was also fascinating, not least because he had a cast iron tortilla press. It was a thing of beauty, a perfect example of a piece of kitchen kit designed to do a specific job. The person I was sitting next to turned to me and said: "you want one, don't you?" I nodded, starry-eyed and we laughed as only two strangers who have been tasting tequila together can.
"Tortilla presses: the new pasta machines," she said.

Now, I don't have a pasta machine, but it did make me think. What bits of job-specific kitchen kit could you not live without, and what bits just take up space in your cupboards? (Not that a tortilla press would take up much room, right?)

Musical Monday: Gone Tomorrow

Sweet sweet Friday: Fruity Sorbet

I am writing this while eating a fragment of Easter egg, so it seems hypocritical to say I thought you might fancy something fruity after last weekend's chocolate fest. Then again, this particular fruity delight is very good with chocolate, so there's still something in it for you if you didn't overdo it.

My friend Steve taught me how to make this sorbet years and years and years ago. He's always been a clever and intuitive cook, though his initial instructions for this sorbet were too clever by half, going on about super-saturated solutions and other scientific boondoggrely. For those of you who left science behind after School Cert or whatever its equivalent is these days, all you need to know is that you need the same ratio of sugar syrup to pureed fruit or juice. Or maybe you just need this recipe.

Fruit Sorbet

One of the best things about this recipe is that you don’t need any fancy equipment, except for a blender or food processor. The other good thing is that you can use any fruit you like, though it's best to go for something tart to balance out the sugar. If you're using juice, lemons, oranges or grapefruit are all good. If you're using fruit - I used a bag of Omega plums that were past their best - you need to poach it first in a little water, then push it through a sieve (tedious but worth it).

 

500ml freshly squeezed fruit juice, strained of pulp and pips, or fruit puree

250g sugar

250ml water

1-2 egg whites

 

Put the sugar and water in a saucepan and bring to a quiet boil until the sugar is dissolved. Let cool, then add the juice/puree.

Pour into a plastic container with a lid and freeze for at least five hours.

Let it defrost slightly, then blend it in a food processor or blender with an egg white or two. The mixture will increase in volume and turn a lighter colour.

Pour it back into the plastic container and freeze again - it will take another couple of hours to be frozen enough.

The plum one is really good with a chocolate sauce (heat 200ml cream to a simmer, drop in 150g dark chocolate, remove from heat and stir until melted, then pour over). Alternatively, just chop up some chocolate and sprinkle it on top, with a jug of cream on the side.

Have a good weekend, everyone. I'm hoping for enough sun to plant some peas, as inspired by my gardening guru. Oh, and then I'm going to a tequila tasting! What are you planning to get up to?

Grilled zucchini and feta

I've just read the most ridiculous line in a celebrity gossip story (I know, I know) where some starlet tells the interviewer that her friends all go on juice detoxes but she doesn't need to because she mostly only eats egg whites, vegetables and herbal tea. Yeah, right. Pull the other one, it's got prescription drugs on it. I mean, does ANYONE really eat like that? No wonder she always looks so pained in photographs - she's starving.

That said, I have personally reached my hot cross bun and chocolate limit for a few days and fancy eating green things with a bit of crunch. And a bit of cheese.

Griddled zucchini, feta, lemon and broad beans
I'm hoping the odd weather means the zucchini I've been buying at the market are just late bloomers and not out of a coolstore. The broad beans are out of the freezer and the lemons from our neighbours' tree (we repay them in baking, honest). This is a really easy dish to throw together when you're pottering around doing other things. If you don't have a griddle pan, use a frying pan or roast them in the oven.

3-4 small zucchini, sliced lengthways into 5mm strips
2 cups frozen broad beans (or fresh ones!)
a nice chunk of good feta
a lemon or two
extra virgin olive oil

Brush the zucchini with olive oil and cook put on a ridged grill pan, turning as appropriate.
While they're cooking, put the broad beans in a heatproof bowl and cover with boiling water. Let sit for a couple of minutes, then drain. Pop the beans out of their shells and put on a serving plate with the cooked zucchini/ Crumble the feta on top, then zest over the lemon before squeezing over its juice. Add a splash of olive oil (not too much, as the zucchini will be reasonably well-oiled). Season with salt and pepper, then toss gently before serving. This is good on its own as a very light meal or as a side salad. Egg whites and herbal tea optional. Serves two as a meal, more as a salad.

An Easter of Eating

This was my Easter, or at least the bits I photographed.
Most of the time I was too busy - eating, standing at the kitchen sink, having a cup of tea, drinking a glass of wine, laughing - to take photos.
So you'll just have to imagine the baked flounder with caper butter, the creme caramel, the Piedmontese peppers, the passionfruit cream biscuits and the Lebanese doughnuts with citrus syrup - or at least take my word for it that it was a great holiday. When's the next one?

The Easter Table

Dan Lepard's Spiced Stout Hot Cross Buns

Beetroot Gravadlax with Dill Creme Fraiche

The kitchen whizzes

Tamasin Day-Lewis' Chocolate Espresso Cake

What did the Easter Bunny bring?

I think we will be eating a lot of green vegetables and very little chocolate this week.

How was your Easter?

Hot cross bunny

Many moons ago, a suitor of mine once arrived on the doorstep bearing a charmingly vacuum-packed rabbit. It was an unexpected and unconventional gift, but it certainly tasted better than a bunch of roses. I wasn't sure what to do with it but he produced a few notes written on the back of a restaurant menu. Using them as a basis, this is how we cooked it.

Braised rabbit with tomatoes and olives
Rest assured that you don't have to sacrifice the family pet or go hunting for this Easter dinner. Farmed rabbits are available from good butchers, farmers markets and some supermarkets - and they are usually sold already 'dressed' (decapitated, skinned and cleaned) . If you flinch at the idea of eating one of the Flopsy Bunnies, substitute free-range organic chicken pieces for the rabbit.

1 rabbit (around 1.5kg), cut into pieces (ask the butcher to do this for you)
1/2-3/4 cup plain flour
salt and pepper
3-4 tbsp olive oil
2 red onions, finely chopped
2 carrots, peeled and finely chopped
2 ribs of celery, tough strings removed and finely chopped
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
150ml red wine
500g vine-ripened tomatoes (about five medium-sized ones)
Herbs: 1/2 a small bunch of fresh parsley (use the other half of the bunch for garnishing), several sprigs of thyme, a sprig of rosemary, a bay leaf
1 cup good quality black olives


Begin by putting the flour, a good pinch of salt and several grinds of black pepper in a plastic bag with the rabbit pieces. Close the top of the bag and shake well, ensuring the rabbit pieces are all covered with a nice dusting of flour. Remove from the bag and set aside (throw the unused flour away).

Blanch and peel the tomatoes - put them in a bowl, cover with boiling water and let sit for about 30-40 seconds. Lift out and nick the skins - they will lift off easily. Chop into chunks and set aside.

Heat the oil in a large, heavy pan and add the onions, carrots, celery and garlic. Saute over medium heat until starting to soften, then add the rabbit pieces, browning them on both sides. Pour in the wine and let it bubble away for a minute or two, then add the tomatoes and herbs. Cover and simmer very gently for 45 minutes to one hour, until the rabbit is cooked through and tender.

Stir in the olives and season with salt and pepper to taste. Scatter over some freshly chopped parsley before serving with steamed greens and hunks of chewy sourdough bread or crusty baguette. Feeds four.

Guilt-free Easter loaf

When I was growing up there were rules about Easter. We only started eating hot cross buns on Good Friday and Easter eggs were verboten until after church on Sunday. It was a bit of a surprise to realise that other people didn't live this way - didn't they get told off, or go to hell? - but I now think my mother had a point. If you eat hot cross buns or Easter eggs from the moment they arrive in the shops, which is now in late January, there's nothing to look forward to when Easter actually arrives.

Even so, I found my resolve wobbling enormously last week when I masterminded a hot cross bun taste-off for work. That's why I developed this loaf, which has all the flavour and aroma of a hot cross bun, but none of the guilt.

Easter Loaf
One of the best things about the aforementioned hot cross bun test was getting a few tips from Sean Armstrong (who New Zealand readers might have seen on Masterchef recently) about what fruit and spice do to yeast doughs. I tweaked my normal bread recipe accordingly and it worked a treat. I know the instructions look long but this isn't at all hard. You don't have to make a cross on top, but it does stop it looking like ordinary fruit toast.
This is also, handily, my entry for April's Teatime Treats, hosted this month by the lovely Kate, and for April's Fresh From The Oven, hosted this month by The Little Loaf.

150g dried fruit (a mixture of mixed peel, sultanas and currants is good)
1Tbsp mixed spice
1 1/2 tsp dried yeast
150ml milk
150ml boiling water
500g strong white flour
40g butter
2Tbsp brown sugar
1Tbsp cocoa
1/2tsp ground cloves
1 1/2tsp salt

For the cross:
1 egg yolk
4Tbsp flour
milk to mix

For the glaze:
2Tbsp brown sugar
2Tbsp hot water

Put the mixed fruit and mixed spice in a bowl and cover with boiling water. Stir and let soak for at least four hours - overnight is best. Drain and set aside.
Put the milk and boiling water into a bowl. When it's at blood heat, add the yeast and leave for five minutes to start working.
While that's happening, put the flour and butter into a freestanding mixer fitted with the paddle beater, and put on low speed until the butter is mixed through. Alternatively, rub the butter through the flour with your fingers.
Add the sugar, cocoa, cloves and salt and stir well. Pour in the yeast and liquid and stir to combine, then use the dough hook on low speed until a dough forms. Tip in the drained fruit and knead with your hands or the dough hook until you have an elastic dough that springs back when touched. It will be quite sticky - this is good.
Form into a ball, put in a greased bowl and cover with a plastic bag. Leave in a warm place until the dough has doubled, about an hour.
Preheat the oven to 200C.
Turn dough out of the bowl and knock back gently. Press into a rectangular shape with your fingers, then roll up tightly. Put into a large, greased loaf tin and let rise again for about 30 minutes, until risen by half.
While you're waiting, mix the egg yolk and flour together for the cross. Add a little milk if needed. Scrape it into a snaplock bag - there will be lots left over, but you can put it in the fridge for a day and use it for your hot cross buns. Snip a tiny corner of the bag off when you're ready to use it.
When the loaf is ready to go in the oven, slash a cross in it, then pipe in the gaps.
Bake for 25-35 minutes, until the bottom sounds hollow when tapped.
As soon as it comes out of the oven, brush it with the glaze, which you have made by heating the sugar and water together until dissolved. Let cool completely before slicing.

Did you have these sorts of rules when you were growing up, or was my family completely abnormal?

Musical Monday: Vagabond