The perfect tuna sandwich

No blog posts for ages and then, what? A sandwich? I'm afraid so. Truth is, I feel like I've lost my food mojo in the last couple of weeks. Life seems to have overtaken me; there seems to be too much going on and not enough time to do it in. I've been doing a lot of running, so I'm perpetually hungry (and tired), and spending hours in the kitchen is a luxury I don't seem to have. 

Anyway, I'm hoping normal(ish) service will resume soon. In the meantime, here's a sandwich I perfected earlier in the year, when I was on holiday, combining lots of running with lots of gardening, lots of reading and lots of sitting on our newly finished deck, thinking how life was pretty sweet.

The perfect tuna sandwich

Not surprisingly, good tuna and good bread are essential to the success of this sandwich. The absolute best baguettes I've found in Wellington are the Acme sourdough baguettes from Prefab, the best tuna is the Sirena brand (the one with the mermaid on the tin).

1 x 185g tin good quality tuna in oil, drained (reserve the oil)

2 tsp green peppercorns in brine, drained

2 tsp capers, rinsed and roughly chopped

zest and juice of a lemon

2 tbsp mayonnaise

salt and pepper

Put everything in a small bowl and mix well. Add a little more oil if necessary. Pile into a halved baguette with some crunchy lettuce. Eat immediately.

What have you been up to while I've been away?

Paua with garlic, chilli, coriander and lime

We are blessed with the best neighbours in the world. They are great neighbours for all sorts of reasons, but for the purposes of a food blog, they are the best neighbours because they do things like turn up with freshly caught crayfish, or duck, or smoked trout. Now they've just set the bar even higher by bringing us three massive paua. It's going to take a lot of reciprocal bottles of wine and cakes to beat that one.

I can't remember the last time I had fresh paua - it appears in dishes on restaurant menus sometimes but my sources tell me it's usually squid, so I never order it. When I was 13 I remember a magical holiday with cousins in the Far North of New Zealand, where the crayfish and paua were in such abundance we begged to have sausages as a treat. If you happen to have excellent neighbours, or a source of paua, here's a way to cook it.

Paua with garlic, chilli, coriander and lime
Paua is notoriously tough - I remember my cousin beating it with a wine bottle to tenderise it - but my neighbour passed on the 'boil it first' method, which works well (and requires a lot less effort). Quantities here are very approximate - adjust to suit the amount of paua you have. If all else fails, do what the restaurants do and use squid instead.

Half-fill a pot with water and bring to the boil. Drop in the paua and cover the pot. Let the water come to the boil and simmer for three minutes. Drain immediately and slice the paua into thin strips.
Heat a couple of sloshes of olive oil in a large, heavy frying pan. Add a couple of cloves of garlic, sliced, some fresh chilli and a bunch of spring onions. Add the paua and cook, stirring frequently, for another couple of minutes.
Scoop onto a warm waiting plate, then squeeze over some fresh lime juice and strew with coriander. Eat immediately.

Hello 2016

I'm writing this in the room we grandly call 'the office'. There is just enough room for the laptop on this huge old wooden desk, jammed between a pile of notebooks on one side and a stack of what looks to be school 'art' projects, plus the recently deceased cover of the ironing board, on the other. I have a cup of tea balanced precariously on a pile of papers that includes a recipe for 'pancetta' cured kingfish and a cookbook idea I wrote down in a hurry last week. It is a mess and I really should do something about it.

The dishwasher is purring upstairs, but not so loudly that I won't be able to hear my best beloved cutting into the loaves of bread I've just taken out of the oven, despite knowing this is a terrible crime. So far, 2016, so good.

We ended 2015 with vintage champagne, whitebait fritters and lamb racks cooked to a recipe from the first Ottolenghi book, plus chocolate fondants from The Cook's Companion. The fondants were a disaster (I was so desperate not to overcook them that I erred too far in the direction of undercookedness), but no one seemed to mind. The champagne may have had something to do with that, or perhaps it's because molten chocolate is better than no chocolate. Anyway, I'm going to get them right eventually.

Apart from that, I have no pressing food goals for 2016. I'm not going to drink less wine or eat less cheese. I'd like to grow more vegetables and see if I can nurture a new sourdough starter. If that sounds all a bit too virtuous, I'm also going to master the new ice cream attachment I have for my KitchenAid.

The latter goal reminds me of a clipping I have pinned to the wall above my desk. It's a fragment of an interview with Ingrid Betancourt, the French-Colombian politician who was held hostage in the Colombian jungle by FARC guerillas for more than six years. At the end of the story, Betancourt says the experience made her decide that she would learn to cook when she got out and that she would "always have flowers in my room and wear perfume; that I would no longer forbid myself to eat ice-cream or cakes. I understood that in my life I had abandoned too many little pleasures, taking them for granted."

Ingrid Betancourt had to suffer unspeakable horrors to reach that realisation, the rest of us should learn from it. Like she says at the end of the story, "I never say no to an ice-cream."

What are your ice cream dreams for 2016?

Fast oven-baked fish with a crunchy crust

I'm not normally given to wandering down the cereals aisle of the supermarket, but I did feel a pang of nostalgia when homegrown brand Hubbards turned 25 about six weeks ago. A quarter of a century! Where did the time go?

I remember my mother being very fond of 'Mr Hubbard', who did then-unthinkable things like include a chatty newsletter in each box of muesli and engage with his customers. That was a pretty big deal in the pre-internet age, as was their attitude to social responsibility. Of course, the mueslis were pretty good too, not least because they featured utterly addictive YCRs (otherwise known as yoghurt-covered raisins). In later years I remember a friend saying he thought Hubbards should just make boxes of YCRs rather than families and flatmates fall out over who ate the last ones. 

On a recent supermarket sweep I discovered that Hubbards now make all manner of new cereals over and above the old favourites (including a special 25th birthday one that contains chocolate and raspberries). It's great to see them in such good health. Happy birthday, Hubbards. See you at 50. 

Fast oven-baked fish with a crunchy crust
The youngest member of our household is mad for what she calls 'crumbled fish' - that is, fish in a panko breadcrumb crust, fried in a pan. That's all very well, but this is a faster, slightly healthier way to get the same crunchy kick. I used Hubbards' Simply Toasted Muesli with nuts and seeds - I'd suggest opting for something similarly plain. This is one occasion where yoghurt-covered raisins are not the answer.

4 fillets tarakihi or similar
1 Tbsp cornflour
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 1/2 cups muesli
2 Tbsp olive oil
salt and pepper

Heat the oven to 200C and line a baking dish with foil. Put the beaten egg in a shallow bowl and put the muesli in another shallow dish.
Dust the fish with cornflour, then dip each fillet into the egg mixture before coating it with the muesli. Repeat until all the fillets are coated.
Grease the foil with one tablespoon of the olive oil, and lay the fillets on top. Grind over some salt and pepper, then drizzle over the remaining oil.
Bake in the preheated oven for 5-10 minutes, depending on the thickness of the fish. Remember it will keep cooking a little after you take it out of the oven.
Serve immediately with lemons and fresh herbs. Serves four.

Have a great week, everyone x

How to cook salmon in a plastic bag

Last week a very clever former vegetarian friend confessed she was terrified of cooking fish. After years of avoiding it, she felt completely in the dark about where - and how - to start. I rattled off a few easy methods and then decided she needed to know this one. If you can boil a kettle, you can master this stress-free, mess-free method of cooking salmon. Here's how to do it.

No-stress salmon
I think this is the easiest way to cook salmon tail fillets, which are often on the skinny side. Plus, it’s a great method for first-time cooks, because you can peep through the plastic to see how the salmon changes colour.

2 x 120g salmon tail fillets
1 tsp extra virgin olive oil
Flaky sea salt and cracked black pepper

Set the kettle to boil. Drizzle the olive oil over the salmon fillets and sprinkle generously with salt and pepper. Insert the salmon into a zip lock sandwich bag and smooth out as much of the air as you can before sealing tightly.

Half fill a heatproof bowl with the just-boiled water, then add the bag of salmon. You may need to weight it down with a spoon to keep it under the water level.
The salmon will take between two and five minutes to cook, depending on its thickness. When it’s done to your liking, take it out of the plastic and serve. I like it straight out of the bag with a dollop of horseradish mixed with Greek yoghurt and snipped chives.

Baby octopus with lemon and herbs

Whenever visitors to Wellington ask about Te Papa, there's only ever one thing we tell them to see - the colossal squid. This creature of the deep has become such a feature in our lives that I fear the day that it disintegrates altogether and we are allowed to look at other exhibits. But it has also engendered a great interest in squid of all sizes - including the ones you can eat.
To capitalise on a sudden resurgence in interest (prompted by some recent sea adventures), I came up with this almost-instant tapas-style octopus, which takes five minutes and looks a lot more complicated than it is. It's certainly a lot less complex than catching a colossal squid - but you'll have to go to Te Papa to see how they did that.

Baby octopus with lemon and herbs
It might seem a bit of a fiddly task, but I recommend cutting off the hood (which contains what is known in our household as 'the poo-ey bit') of the octopus before you start. It'll only take a minute and makes them much more pleasant to eat.

500g baby octopus, hoods removed and discarded
100ml freshly squeezed lemon juice (about two lemons' worth)
zest of two lemons
2 Tbsp fish sauce
2 Tbsp peanut oil
2 cloves garlic, finely sliced
2cm piece of fresh ginger, grated
a handful of fresh herbs - coriander, dill, parsley, chervil

Fill a small bowl with cold water and ice cubes, and set aside.
Bring a pot of water to the boil. When it's boiling, add a good pinch of salt and the baby octopi. They will curl up and blanch pretty much immediately - as soon as they do, remove them with tongs and drop them into the iced water.
Mix all the other ingredients together in a bowl and add the drained octopi. Stir well and season with salt and pepper, then serve. Serves four as a tapas-style appetiser.

Do you have a favourite food-related exhibit at your local museum?

Pappardelle with tuna and cream

If you read fashion magazines then you'll know all about the 'trans-seasonal piece'. This is an item of clothing that will, apparently, protect you from the vagaries of changing weather patterns while still managing to keep you in vogue (though not necessarily in Vogue, if you know what I mean).

A lot less is said about the equally important trans-seasonal meal, which should lift you out of the food rut you've been in all season and hint at the changes to come, while still respecting the needs of the moment.

Pappardelle with tuna and cream
Tinned tuna is very unfashionable these days but if you can find a sustainably caught brand I think it's possible to dish it up without a side of guilt. Cream is probably a bit passe too, in some circles, but I don't give a hoot. This is a great dinner for the middle seasons of spring and autumn, managing to be comforting and fresh in one go.

1 cup/250ml cream
1 packed cup of fresh parsley, leaves only, finely chopped
1 cup finely diced celery
a good pinch of salt and lots of freshly ground black pepper
1 Tbsp good olive oil
finely grated zest and juice of a lemon
2 x 185g tins good quality tuna in oil
Pappardelle - enough for four

Put all ingredients, except the pasta, in a bowl and stir together gently. Taste for seasoning and add more salt, pepper or lemon juice as needed.
Cook the pasta in well-salted water until al dente, drain well, then toss half the sauce through it. Divide between pasta bowls and spoon the remaining sauce on top. Serves four.

Five easy spring meals

It's spring! Proper spring - with balmy temperatures, early rising birds and new buds appearing in the garden. Well, it was like that a few days ago. Now we're back to tempestuous winds, lashing rain and that horrible greyness, but I've got high hopes.

It's too soon for asparagus and the little lambs arriving in paddocks near you are too small for the cooking pot, but there are lots of other spring-y things to eat. Here are five easy spring dinners to add to your repertoire...

1. Superfood Salad: It's got quinoa, broccoli and other spring-y, crunchy things to make you feel like frolicking in the sun. What more do you need?

2. Tray-baked Lamb and Potatoes: This is really good for those 'I can't think what to have for dinner' evenings, which occur in our house at least once a week. Everything goes in the oven in one dish and there's minimal cleaning up (even the non-cooks can make this one).

3. Spring Cauliflower Soup: Cauliflower has had a bit of a renaissance of late, thanks to the craze for turning it into a pizza crust, but I think it's unbeatable in this simple and healthy cauliflower soup.

4. Simple Smoked Fish And Rice: This is another one-pot wonder, handy when you've been out in the garden tackling six months' worth of weeding.

5. Little lamb burgers: If you're blessed with a beautiful spring day, cook these outside on your (long-neglected) barbecue. If it's 'sit inside by the heater weather', they can be baked or pan-fried indoors.

What are your plans for this spring? 

Smoked salmon rosti canapes

Do you know what I remember most about university? The jobs I did in between lectures. I cleaned houses, made coffee, waited tables, worked at functions, handed out flyers, recorded weather forecasts, washed dishes and occasionally looked after children. I'd like to think all of these things stood me in good stead for life after university, even if they aren't quite as useful when it comes to playing Trivial Pursuit.

The best gig of all was working at functions. All you had to do was turn up looking presentable, carry food and drink around for a few hours, then with any luck you'd get to eat and drink the leftovers with your fellow waitstaff - and still go home with a wad of cash in your pocket. Sure, there were pitfalls but for the most part it was a great insight into corporate life. It also taught me that if you're at any kind of function where canapes are on offer, you need to a) be especially charming to the waitstaff and b) to stand by the kitchen door if you're really hungry, because then you've got first pickings.

I don't go in for canapes much when we're entertaining at home, but when Regal Salmon asked me to create a recipe using their new Artisan Smoked Salmon, I knew exactly what I wanted to make. A really good canape needs to have bold flavours, eye appeal and interesting textures (the culinary equivalents of wit, good looks and charm) if you're going to remember it the next day. These little morsels fit the bill nicely - and they won't crumble down your front.

Smoked salmon rosti canapes
Essentially, this is posh fish and chips in canape form. The crispy, crunchy potato strands are the chips, the silky salmon is the fish, and the lemon-spiked creme fraiche dressing is like a fancy tartare sauce. The great thing about these canapes is that you can do all the prep in advance, leaving you plenty of time to apply your face and have a pre-cocktail party cocktail before your guests arrive. Cheers!

600g (4-5 medium) floury potatoes, peeled
4 Tbsp olive oil
flaky salt and freshly ground pepper
180g (3/4 cup) creme fraiche
finely grated zest of two lemons and the juice of one of them
3 Tbsp capers, finely chopped
a handful of fresh fennel fronds or dill
250g best quality smoked salmon

Heat the oven to 200C and line two baking trays with baking paper.
Grate the potatoes - use the fine grating disc in a food processor, if you have one - then tip them into a sieve set over the sink to drain. Press as much liquid out of the potatoes as possible, then wrap them in a clean teatowel and wring to extract as much moisture as you can. Tip the potatoes into a bowl and stir through the olive oil and salt and pepper until well mixed.
Using your fingers, take small amounts of the shredded potato mixture and place on the prepared trays, as if you were forming little nests. Season again with salt and pepper, then put in the oven to bake for 15-20 minutes, until golden and crisp. Remove to a rack to cool.
In the meantime, mix the creme fraiche with the lemon zest, capers and a few finely chopped fennel fronds or dill leaves. Squeeze in a bit of lemon juice to taste.
To assemble the canapes, top each potato rosti with a piece of smoked salmon, a dollop of creme fraiche and a sprinkle of fennel. This makes about 40 canapes, which are great washed down with a glass of well-chilled bubbles. With any luck, you'll even have some left for your guests...

If you love smoked salmon but canapes sound a bit formal, this smoked salmon and wasabi pate is a more interactive (but no less delicious) way to eat it.

* This post was created with the assistance of Regal Artisan Salmon, but all opinions (and the recipes) are my own.*

Five fast family dinner ideas

The thing about having a food blog is that people always think you are having something exciting for dinner. People often ask me what I'm planning to eat and until very recently I would admit that I had no idea because my beloved was in charge of dinner. Sure, I was mostly in charge of shopping and thinking ahead, but he did the leg work on the nights I was working. It was great.

Things have changed and now I'm home first and it's not the cushy number I thought it was. Among other things it means - oh no! - that I'm now in charge of dinner all the time.

If you have a similar role at your place, here are five fast family dinner ideas to make your after-work life more balanced. Don't forget to pour yourself a G&T when you get in, you deserve it.

1. Chicken and crunchy noodle salad
This was our favourite fast dinner this summer. The noodles - I pretend to myself that they aren't deep-fried - turn a salad and some protein into something exciting and fun. You can do it with any kind of protein you like - I do it most often with chicken thighs or pork schnitzel, but fish or even pan-fried tofu are good too.
To make this when you get home from work, marinate about 600g sliced chicken thighs in a splash of soy sauce, a spoonful of marmalade or apricot jam, a clove or two of smashed garlic and a teaspoon of sesame oil (if you are really organised you can do this before you go to work). Turn the oven on to 180C and line a small baking tray with foil, then baking paper. The foil keeps the tray clean (less washing-up) and the baking paper stops the chicken sticking to the foil. I favour using the oven, rather than the stove-top, because it offers more hands-free time. However, if your oven is slow to heat up, or you get home very late, then by all means shelve my oven-cooking instructions below for your own stovetop methods.
So - stick the chicken in the oven and bake for 20 minutes, or until cooked. Meanwhile, assemble a collection of salad fixings (leaves, shredded seasonal vegetables, tomatoes, peppers, mushrooms, whatever) on a large platter. Toss through a little vinaigrette. When the chicken is cooked, scatter it on top, then sprinkle over the crunchy noodles. Serves four.

2. Rhi’s sausages: This is an idea that the lovely Rhi left in a comment once. Throw some roughly chopped good sausages, potatoes, cherry tomatoes, garlic, rosemary and onions into a roasting dish and drizzle with olive oil. Bake at 200C for 30 minutes, then toss in some chunks of oil-drizzled baguette and bake for another 10 minutes until the bread is golden and crusty. You can extend or shrink this to suit however many mouths you have to feed - though be warned, they will all eat more of it than you think.

3. Homemade fish and chips:  Turn the oven to 200C. Scrub some potatoes and cut into thin wedges. Put in a plastic bag with a couple of tablespoons of oil and smoosh about until the wedges are coated. Tip onto a lined baking tray, sprinkle over some salt and pepper. Bake for 35 minutes, shaking occasionally. Meanwhile, line a small baking tray with foil. Lay some fresh fish fillets on top, then drizzle over some olive oil, a bit of lemon juice and grind over some salt and pepper. Switch the oven to grill and put the fish in to cook for about five minutes (leave the potatoes in the bottom of the oven, they will be fine). Serve with steamed beans, cherry tomatoes and lots of lemon wedges.

4. Bacon and egg pie: This easy bacon and egg pie takes five minutes to make and - if you use really good bought pastry, like this one - it feels like a real treat. If you’re really lucky, there will be some leftover for lunchboxes the next day.

5. Fish ‘n flats: Not to be confused with style for harried mothers website Fox in Flats, fish ‘n flats is another insta-dinner. Grill or fry fish as above (I prefer oven grilling, as it saves on smell and washing a frying pan; my beloved says frying gives you more crunchy bits, which is also true). Serve with flatbreads (homemade or bought), hummus (ditto), crunchy salad stuff. In my experience small children will eat all sorts of things if they can wrap them up in a flatbread.

What do you eat on busy days?

Good things: February 2014

Ice creams. Fish and chips. Sand castles. Sand in everything. February has turned out to be the month that January should have been. And boy, am I glad about it.

Very early readers of this blog might recall the summer holiday we took three (THREE!) years ago. We had such rose-tinted memories of that stay (despite the fact that it rained a lot) that we went back for a few days at the beginning of the month.

We shopped at New Zealand's best Farmer's Market, ate New Zealand's best fish and chips, went for swims and made a lot of sandcastles. It was a proper, old-fashioned summer holiday.

Even better, my sister came to stay and brought with her a shiny new ice cream machine and a batch of this ice cream. I've thought about it often ever since.

Back home, we harvested our own tomatoes, which have thrived despite inclement weather and neglect. I listened to this completely charming interview with Wellington's best French patissier and made a mental note to visit his little shop more often.

The pantry is in - and filled - but I've decided to wait for the big reveal until the painters have finished, because the rest of the kitchen is such a tip I can't bear to show it. I'm sure you can wait a little longer.
In the meantime I have more cupboards to clean, more dust to vacuum, and an urgent appointment with a glass of wine in my garden while the cicadas chorus around me.

What have you been up to this month?

Spicy fish and soba noodles

On the rare occasions when the man of the house has a day off during the week, he takes himself out for lunch. This is just one of the ways in which we are very different, because I'd never, ever do that. Or maybe it's because I never have the chance to lunch alone (cue violins and the Martyr Mother choir, please). Anyway, I do encourage him to do this because a) normally he eats two meals a day hunched over a keyboard, and b) he often comes home with good ideas. This lovely dish is vaguely inspired by something he ate a few weeks ago at one of his favourite lunch spots.

Spicy fish and soba noodles
We went through a big soba noodle phase a few years ago, then stopped when we got sick of picking them up off the floor. The Small Girl is a bit more adept now, so they've come back on the menu. This is a great family-friendly dish as you can omit the spicy sauce, or tone it down, for young eaters. Everything sort of happens at once, but stay focused and you'll find this a very easy after-work dinner.

270g soba noodles
2 Tbsp sesame oil (for the noodles)
3 Tbsp oil (for frying the fish)
500-600g white fish fillets - gurnard, snapper, blue cod
greens - two to three handfuls of green beans and/or bok choy
6 spring onions, finely chopped
2 Tbsp dried shrimps, optional

For the sauce:

100ml lemon juice (use a bit of lime juice if you can find good limes)
100ml fish sauce
2Tbsp brown sugar
1 red chilli, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely sliced
a good grating of fresh ginger - about a tablespoon or so


Put all the sauce ingredients in a jar and shake until well blended. Set aside.
Cook the soba noodles in boiling water according to packet directions (they cook in about three minutes). Throw the greens in for the last minute of cooking, then drain everything and toss through the sesame oil.
Cut the fish into manageable pieces. Heat a large cast iron frying pan over medium heat and add the oil, then add the fish and fry until it flakes when pressed with the point of a knife. Remove from the heat.
Divide the noodles and greens between four bowls, then top with the fish. Pour over the dressing, then garnish with the finely chopped spring onions and dried shrimps. Serves four.

Are you a lady - or gentleman - who lunches? Where do you like to go?

Smoked salmon and wasabi pate

The man of the house is currently brushing up on his French skills and this means getting me to help him with his homework. Once upon a time, this would have been easy, but the passing of time means my brain doesn't operate in French as well as it used to (or, indeed, as I imagined it once did). I've been feeling quite depressed about this, but am consoling myself with the fact that my menu French is still better than his. And when I looked up the Larousse to get a proper dictionary definition of 'pate', I didn't need another dictionary to explain the answer. So I can't be too badly off, can I?

Smoked salmon and wasabi pate
For the record, Larousse defines 'pate' as 'preparation de charcuterie de texture tres variable et composee de viandes et d'abats en morceaux ou en pate fine et de differents ingredients' and you don't need to know much French to figure out that there are (mercifully) no 'viandes' (or 'abats' - organs) in a smoked salmon version. But I had to call it something other than 'a sort of spread-y thing you can have on toast or crackers or on little bits of cucumber like an 80s canape', didn't I?
This is inspired by something in Jamie Oliver's book on British food - he makes something similar with smoked trout and horseradish and serves it with baby Yorkshire puddings. And cor blimey, guv'nor, it is bloomin' lovely. Or c'est absolument delicieux, as our French friends would say.

150g cream cheese, softened
1/4 - 1 tsp wasabi paste
150g hot smoked salmon
finely grated zest of a lemon, plus its juice
a couple of teaspoons of finely chopped dill or mint

Put the cream cheese, lemon zest and 1/4 teaspoon of wasabi in a small bowl and beat with a fork until smooth. Taste it for hotness - the wasabi should be present, but not overpowering. Keep adding it until you think it's about right. Flake in the hot smoked salmon and dill or mint. Fold it into the cream cheese, adding a little lemon juice if it seems a bit stiff. Taste again for seasoning - add some salt and freshly cracked black pepper until the balance is right. Scrape into a little bowl and cover, then store in the fridge. Makes enough for six people as a canape, with enough for one lucky person to have on toast the next morning.

Bonne semaine, tout le monde!

Calamari panzanella

One of the Small Girl's favourite things is the Colossal Squid at Te Papa. Have you seen it? It's the only colossal squid specimen on display in the world and once you've gazed at all 495kg of it in the tank you can watch the strangely compelling video footage of it being caught, then transferred to the museum. There's a 3D movie as well, but I've never managed to watch it because "no Mummy, it's too scary". One day, I'm going to go to Te Papa by myself and watch the whole thing.

Anyway, we talk about colossal squids a lot at our place. A couple of weeks ago I bought some baby octopus to sizzle on the barbecue and watching them wriggle around on the hotplate was so disturbing that it nearly put me off eating them. Thankfully, scored squid tubes don't look nearly as lively during the cooking process and they taste just as good.

Calamari Panzanella
Apart from being so good to eat, squid is incredibly cheap. Make sure the ones you are buying have come from waters close by - the frozen Chinese stuff for sale in most New Zealand supermarkets isn't fit for bait.
This started out as a classic squid and chorizo salad but soon morphed into something else. It's not really panzanella, but it's not far off.

400g squid tubes
200g chorizo sausage, sliced into coins
2 cloves garlic, finely sliced
2 red peppers, sliced
a punnet of cherry tomatoes, halved
lots of fresh parsley, finely chopped
4-5 slices of good, rustic bread (slightly stale is ok), cut into 2cm cubes
olive oil
2 Tbsp soy sauce
2 Tbsp red wine vinegar

Heat the oven to 200C. Toss the cubed bread with a couple of tablespoons of olive oil and put in a roasting dish. Bake for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until golden. Set aside.
Rinse the squid tubes, then dry with kitchen paper and lie on a board. Cut each one open so it lies flat, then score carefully with a sharp knife in a criss-cross pattern. Cut into 2cm x 5cm strips, then put in a bowl with the soy sauce, garlic, 2 Tbsp of olive oil, and some salt and pepper. Set aside.
Toss the toasted bread, tomatoes, peppers and parsley together in a serving dish.
Heat the barbecue or a large frying pan and fry the chorizo for a few minutes, until it is crisp. Scatter over the tomatoes and bread. Fry the squid for about 2 minutes, over very high heat, until it is opaque and curled up. Toss it through the tomato, chorizo and bread, then drizzle over the red wine vinegar and a little olive oil.
Serves four as a main course.

Sophie's sort-of Sicilian spaghetti

At the moment I'm deeply involved in The Leopard, the famous Italian novel that charts the decline of a noble Silician family during the late 19th century. At a really basic level it's a bit like a (less violent) version of The Godfather, or The Sopranos. Maybe all life is like that. Anyway, apart from the epic themes of struggle and change and death there are some great descriptions of feasts eaten and given. It's one of those books where you know it's all going to end in tears, but you're compelled to keep reading. I highly recommend it.

Sicilian spaghetti
I made this on Friday night, having opened the pantry and fridge and thought: 'I only went shopping yesterday, why is there nothing to eat?' It's a really good storecupboard sort of dinner and is child-friendly too, especially if your child has a thing for dried fruit, tuna and nuts. I watched Sophie Grigson make it on TV once, about 15 years ago, and I've been making it ever since even though I've long since lost the notes I made of whatever quantities she used. This is how I made it on Friday night and it was a huge success.

1 red onion, finely chopped
3 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1 x 180g tin of good quality tuna in olive oil
two handfuls of raisins or currants
two handfuls of pine nuts, toasted (I use roughly chopped toasted almonds instead, or sunflower seeds if we are especially poor)
1 cup black olives, stoned
a generous amount of fresh parsley, finely chopped
extra virgin olive oil
enough spaghetti for three people - for us that's about 250-300g)

Put the onion and red wine vinegar in a small bowl and leave to steep while you get on with organising everything else. Put the water on to boil for the pasta, and add everything except the spaghetti to the onion mixture. Toss together, add a slosh of olive oil and season to taste.
Cook the spaghetti until it is al dente and drain, then toss it through the sauce. Take a block of Parmesan to the table and let diners add it as they wish. Threaten any non-eaters with a horse's head in their bed. Serves three.

Fish that goes snap, crackle, pop

Do you remember George Smilovici? He was an Australian comedian in the 80s, whose major hit was a monologue called 'I'm Tuff'. The only line I could remember - "My rice bubbles are too scared to go 'snap, crackle, pop', they just sit in the packet and say 'sssh, here he comes'" - came to mind last week as I searched the pantry for a bag of panko crumbs to dredge some fish in.
With no panko in sight, my eyes lit upon a packet of rice bubbles instead. To show them how 'tuff' I was I pounded them into submission to make a crispy, crunchy coating for some tender terakihi. That'll teach them.

Crispy turmeric-crusted fish
I have spent a long time trying to come up with a nifty title for this fish, to no avail. Nevermind. It's worth buying Ricies for, even if you never eat them for breakfast.

600g fresh white fish fillets, cut into manageable pieces
about 3 cups Ricies or other puffed rice cereal, crushed with your hands
1/2 cup cornflour (not to be confused with cornmeal)
2 1/2 tsp turmeric
1 tsp salt (because I'm a show-off - and we had some - I used some homemade celery salt)
2 eggs, lightly beaten
butter/oil to cook the fish

Set up a production line: put the cornflour into a shallow bowl, put the lightly beaten eggs in another and mix the crushed rice cereal with the turmeric and salt in a third.
Line a large platter with some greaseproof paper.
Dip each fillet into the cornflour, then the egg, then the rice cereal, then put it on the prepared platter. Repeat until all the fish is coated. Cover the platter loosely and put in the fridge for 20 minutes.
Heat a large, heavy pan and throw in a squirt of olive oil and a knob of butter. Fry the fish, a couple of minutes each side, until cooked. Serve with a dollop of DIY tartare sauce. Serves four.

One-pot smoky fish and rice

In my next life I am going to eschew academia and pursue a trade. Specifically, I am going to be a dishwasher repairwoman. You will know me by my extremely high hourly rate, my inability to keep appointments and my total disregard for the chaos my laissez-faire attitude brings to other peoples' lives.
Our dishwasher has been on the blink for two weeks and the strain is beginning to show. The frustrating thing is that it still works, but a tiny catch in the door has broken and so we can't get it open without jamming a screwdriver in one side. This method is having grave repercussions on the structure of the door itself and so I am reluctant to continue with it. However I am also getting very tired of doing the dishes while I wait for Mr Unreliable Dishwasher Fixit Man to come back with the minute part needed to solve the problem.

One-pot smoky fish and rice
This is hardly a recipe, but it is an extremely handy method of cooking dinner without making any dishes. I've only tried it with smoked fish so far, but I daresay you could give it a whirl with very thin fillets of fish as the heat from the rice should be enough to cook it through.

300g jasmine rice, well washed in cold running water
500ml cold water
1 lemon, washed and cut into slices
smoked fish of your choice - it's smoked trevally in the photo above, but smoked eel or hot smoked salmon are also good done this way

Put the washed rice and water in a large pot. Cover tightly and bring to the boil. Turn the heat down and let simmer for 12 minutes. Turn the heat off, then quickly lift the lid and put the lemon slices on top of the rice, followed by the fish. Put the lid back on as quickly as possible and let the rice stand for 10 minutes.
While you're waiting, blanch some Chinese greens in boiling water and drain. Lift the fish out from the rice and onto a clean board. Fluff the rice up with a fork and divide between four bowls. Put the greens, fish and lemons on top. Dress with soy sauce or rice vinegar as you see fit.

What kitchen gadget would you miss the most if it suddenly went out of action? Do you know any good dishwasher repairers?

Salmon and apple sliders

Last week I walked past a cafe that had been one of the hottest tickets in town when I was a student.
I remembered how my boyfriend (cringe) and I would go there on a Sunday morning sometimes and eat focaccia with smoked salmon and apple while we read the paper, feeling very sophisticated and urban.

The cafe has long since changed hands and I think I'd cross the road if I saw the (ex)boyfriend coming towards me, but having just re-visited the salmon and apple combo, I can confirm it's still good.

Hot smoked salmon and apple sliders
Forget the focaccia, darling and chuck out the ciabatta, these days it's all about sliders. In case the rebranding revolution hasn't reached you yet, sliders are baby burger buns and they are the bread on everyone's lips.
Al Brown is responsible for their rise to prominence here and it's funny watching people who wouldn't dream of raving about a mini burger going all ga-ga over them.
If you happen across some, or happen to make some, here's what you can put on them. Or, if you want to party like it's 1993, this mixture still works well on focaccia. It's good for brunch, lunch or as a substantial canape.

Bread of your choice
Butter
Rocket
Hot smoked salmon
Capers
Apple, thinly sliced
Creme fraiche or Greek yoghurt

Gently warm the bread or buns (wrap in foil and put in a low-ish oven for 10 minutes). Slice the buns in half and butter lightly.
Top with rocket, then wafers of apple, then chunks of salmon. Scatter capers on top, then dollop on a bit of creme fraiche or Greek yoghurt. Grind over lots of salt and pepper and serve immediately.

The definitive whitebait pattie

Last week the Small Girl and I took our lives in our hands and flew down to the West Coast for a few days. I don't know why people pay huge sums to parachute or bungy jump when they come to New Zealand - merely taking off from Wellington airport in a small plane in a storm is enough to give you all the adrenaline boost you need, with a handy top-up when you land practically on the beach at Westport.
As if that wasn't stressful enough, I then had to turn my hand to cooking whitebait fritters for a household who can remember when whitebait was so plentiful people used to put it on their gardens for fertiliser (and they say Coasters aren't environmentally aware!)

Actually, that's not strictly true. Following my mother-in-law's instructions, I made the batter and my brother-in-law (showing hitherto unknown talents) cooked them. This is how to do it.

Whitebait patties
As previously mentioned, West Coasters catch (or buy) whitebait in pounds, which then get cooked in patties (not fritters). Two pounds-worth makes enough patties for four hungry adults, with the leftovers fought over for whitebait pattie sandwiches the next day.
2lbs whitebait
5 eggs
1/2 cup plain flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
pinch salt

First, catch your whitebait. Then rinse it carefully while listening to stories of how much better it is now that raw sewage no longer flows into the Buller River. Set aside.
Whisk the eggs and dry ingredients together to make a smooth batter, then stir in the whitebait.
Melt a generous knob of butter in a heavy frying pan. Cook the patties as if they are pikelets until golden on both sides. Serve with lemon wedges.

Fishing for compliments

Ok, so I'm not actually ready to submit to the rice and water diet I mentioned yesterday. But this is surely the next best thing - fish, rice, greens and just a bit of butter to boost calcium levels. Even better, you can make this for one person or a crowd (in case you happen upon a lot of people who look like they need a week of what Nigella calls 'temple food').

Fish with coriander and lime butter
This is a super-simplified version of something I saw in Bill Granger's Everyday Asian, which is a really beautiful book full of practical 'I can make this for dinner after work' sorts of ideas. Bill's way is easy enough, but this is even simpler.

Per person:
1 good piece of fish - I like baking monkfish this way, but choose your favourite
2Tbsp butter, softened
zest and juice of half a good, juicy lime
a handful of fresh coriander
salt and pepper

Rice
Bok choy

Get the rice underway first, then preheat the oven to 200C.
Mix the lime juice, zest and butter together. Take a large piece of baking paper and lay the coriander on it. Put the fish on next, then top with the butter and season. Fold the baking paper into a parcel around the fish, so it's secure but not too tight.
Bake for 10-15 minutes (depending on the thickness of the fish - thinner fish will obviously cook faster).
Steam the bok choy until just tender.
To serve, spoon the rice and bok choy into a bowl. Place the fish on top and pour the buttery juices over everything. Sprinkle with a little more chopped coriander if you like.