Three ways with coconut + Spicy Persian Love Cake

Remember when coconut oil was going to save us all? I'm not sure it's happened yet, given that the world needs saving more now than ever before. If you've doubted that coconut oil is a miracle product, this podcast will be music to your ears. If you're like me, and love coconut purely for reasons of greed and culinary usefulness, you might be interested in this week's Three Ways With... column, which features three delectable recipes for coconut in various forms (including oil, though it is most definitely not a recipe with any health claims).

I make no health claims for the following recipe either, except to say that making - and eating - it makes me extremely happy. Since happiness is closely related to wellness, I think I can justifiably say that a slice of this is very good for you.

Spicy Persian Love Cake
This recipe is an adaptation of Sam Mannering's Persian Love Cake, which seems itself to be adapted from an internet-famous recipe by Australian chef Gerard Yaxley. I was inspired to make this version after Karen Dennison of Coyo sent me some of her wares to try. While Coyo's chocolate coconut yoghurt is outrageously good (rich, yet with a tangy finish) and the passionfruit one is lovely, I was most taken with the chai version, which is made with Hakanoa ginger syrup. To stop myself from eating through a tub in one go, I turned the rest into this just-as-addictive cake.

1/2 cup dried dates
1/2 cup walnut halves (about 40g)
1 1/2 cups whole almonds (about 200g)
1 scant cup lightly packed brown sugar
80g soft unsalted butter
1 egg
3/4 cup Coyo Chai coconut yoghurt
finely grated zest of two oranges

Heat the oven to 180C. Grease and line a 20cm tart tin (or springform cake tin).
Soak the dates in boiling water for five minutes, then drain.
Put the nuts in a food processor and whiz to fine crumbs. Add the dates, sugar and butter and whiz again until well combined. Press half of this mixture evenly into the prepared tin, creating a 1cm-ish rim at the sides.
Add the egg, yoghurt and orange zest to the remaining mixture in the food processor and whiz again until smooth. Carefully pour this mixture into the tin.
Bake in the preheated oven for 30-35 minutes, until the top is dark golden and the middle is just set (it will continue to firm up as it cools). Cool on a rack, then refrigerate until ready to serve. Cut into thin wedges - a little goes a long way - and serve with more yoghurt or whipped cream. Any leftovers keep well in the fridge.

How do you feel about the so-called healing powers of coconut?

Ice cream daze

I don't want to be a weather bore, but Wellington is having the most dismal summer ever. I mean, really. On Monday I was so cold at work I had to borrow a jacket destined for the lost property box. On Tuesday I ended up buying a winter coat. On Wednesday I wore it. Yesterday it rained so hard I had to wring my wet clothes out when I got home - and that was after sitting in the car for AN HOUR because the weather wreaked havoc on the traffic. Harrumph.

Tangelo and cinnamon sorbet. Yum!

But today the sun has come out and it seems like the long weekend might even be fine. Ish. Which means it might be more appropriate to tell you about the Three Ways With Frozen Treats column I wrote two weeks ago. Here it is, for your reading pleasure. Bonus points if you can identify the model in the photo.

Have a great weekend, everyone. May the sun shine on you, wherever you are!

Chunky white choc, orange and cranberry slice

I read something last week about how 'invisible prisons' - jobs, societal pressures, parenting, caring for older relatives - meant that modern women are shackled with more responsibilities than their mothers and grandmothers. I don't know if that's true. Personally, if that's the price I have to pay for being able to vote, drive, own property and be generally free to do what I like, I'm fine with it. But last week I did find myself wishing I did a bit less. There's nothing like racing home after work on the night of the school production and remembering en route that you were supposed to bake something for the cake stall to give you conniptions, is there?

Now, I know I could have ignored the cake stall request, or I could have been more organised and done it a few days in advance. But I didn't do either of those things. Instead, I whipped up this slab of deliciousness in 20 minutes, while concurrently making boiled eggs for dinner and getting the child in and out of the bath. We then made it to the show on time, and all the lovely mothers (it's always mothers, isn't it?) who are so good they even RUN THE CAKESTALL cooed over the slice and wanted the recipe. In that moment, I felt a little bit less like a failure and more like a contributing member of society, even if my child was appearing in the show with a whopper of a black eye. But that's another story.

Chunky white choc, orange and cranberry slice
There are a zillion versions of this slice and the world probably doesn't need another one, but if you have weeks where the wheels are coming off and yet you still need to 'bake', this will save your bacon. Or bakin'. Or something.
Anyway, this version is better than all the others because it's big and chunky, and therefore more satisfying to eat. It's also slightly less sweet than some versions. If you're very, very short of time, you may like to know that it's possible to pre-crush the packet of biscuits with the full tin of condensed milk while you're stopped at the lights. Also, if you don't have quite enough biscuits, add a little more coconut. Or use less butter. If you're reading this while running to the shops, a 200g packet of dried cranberries will give you enough for the base and the topping, while a 250g block of Whittaker's white chocolate will fulfill all your chocolate needs.

100g butter
1/2 a tin (about 3/4 cup) condensed milk
300g plain sweet biscuits, bashed to large crumbs (keep a few big pieces in there for texture)
1 cup desiccated coconut
125g white chocolate, roughly chopped
zest of an orange
1 cup dried cranberries
125g white chocolate, roughly chopped

For the icing:
125g white chocolate
50g butter
1 cup icing sugar
juice of an orange (use the one you zested above)
1/2 cup dried cranberries

Line a 20 x 25cm tin (or thereabouts) with baking paper, leaving enough overhanging the sides that you can use to pull it out later.
Melt the butter and condensed milk together over low heat in a large pot. Let cool briefly, then tip in the biscuits, coconut, most of the orange zest, cranberries and chocolate. Stir to mix, then tip into the prepared tin. Press down (the overhanging paper will help here) to smooth the top. Put in the freezer.
Use the same pot to make the icing. Melt the butter and white chocolate over very, very low heat. Sift in the icing sugar and stir well, then squeeze in a little orange juice at a time until it forms a thick, spreadable mixture. Pour over the biscuit base, then sprinkle the cranberries and reserved orange zest on top. Return to the freezer for 5-10 minutes before slicing and racing out the door.
If your life is more leisurely, let the icing set in the fridge before slicing. Store in an airtight container in the fridge.

Spicy gingerbread and creamy apple whoopie pies

Remember whoopie pies? They were going to be the new cupcakes, or the new macarons, but I don't think they ever really took off. A shame, really; it's always sad when little cakes never grow up to reach their full potential. Perhaps they'll make a comeback (if slip dresses over white t-shirts, like we wore in the late 90s, can make a resurgence this summer, then surely there's hope for the whoopie pie). I'm hoping I can get ahead of the pack on this one and I might have made the thing to do it.

Spicy gingerbread whoopie pies with creamy apple filling

This is a recipe with three stages, but it's not hard. Just make the apple compote the day before, so it has time to chill in the fridge. The pies can be filled in advance and stored in an airtight container.

For the apple compote:
2 apples, peeled, cored and diced
3 Tbsp caster sugar
3 Tbsp water
1/2 tsp ground cloves

For the pies:
1 large egg
150g caster sugar
100g butter, melted
150g sour cream
60ml milk
1 tsp vanilla
3/4 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp grated nutmeg
250g plain flour

For the cream cheese filling:
200g cream cheese, at room temperature
50g butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup icing sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla

To make the apple compote, put all the ingredients in a small pot and set over medium heat. Cover and bring to a simmer. Cook for 10 minutes, until the apple is soft. Whip to a puree with a fork, then transfer to a bowl. Cover when cold and store in the fridge.

To make the pies, heat the oven to 160C and line two baking trays with baking paper.
Put the egg in a large bowl and beat until thick. Continue beating and gradually add the sugar. Beat until pale and thick, then add the butter, sour cream, milk and vanilla. Beat to combine, then sift in the dry ingredients. Fold together until combined. Spoon into a piping bag with a wide nozzle and pipe small rounds of the mixture (about the size of a tablespoon) on the prepared trays, leaving room for spreading. You can also spoon the mixture on to the trays, but piping gives a nicer finish.
Bake for 10-12 minutes, until the pies are risen and golden brown. Remove to a rack to cool.

To make the filling, beat the cream cheese, butter, icing sugar and vanilla together until smooth. Fold in the apple compote and transfer the mixture to a piping bag fitted with a large nozzle (or use a plastic bag and snip off the end). Pipe a generous tablespoon or so of mixture onto the flat side of a pie half and top with another. Dust with icing sugar and serve - or store in an airtight container. Makes about 32 little pies.

Three ways with Guinness

Let's get something straight: I've never been one to join in the 'fun' of St Patrick's Day. Not for me the early morning pints of Guinness, the purposeful wearing of Kelly green or the joining of parades on March 17. Not my circus, not my monkeys, as the saying goes.

So it has come as a bit of a surprise to find that I'm actually a little bit partial to Guinness. I'm probably more likely to find a four-leaf clover than drink a pint of it in one go, but it's not a bad drop, all told. And it's quite fun to play with as an ingredient, especially if you get the cans with the little ball in them that help you pour it just like they do at the pub. Here are three ways to get some of that Guinness goodness into you...

Guinness Granita with Irish Cream
This idea came to me like a vision while I was running up Mt Victoria in the half-dark one hot and sticky late summer morning. It's every bit as refreshing as I hoped - and it makes one can of Guinness go a very long way. The granita will hold in the freezer for a couple of weeks and you should get at least six to eight servings out of it. The cream is best made just before serving - the amount specified below is enough for four.

1/2 cup caster sugar
1 cup boiling water
1 x 440ml can Guinness
1/2 cup cream
2 Tbsp Bailey's Irish Cream (or Irish whiskey)

Put the sugar and water in a bowl and stir well to dissolve the sugar. Slowly add the Guinness and stir well, then pour into a shallow freezer-safe container.
Put in the freezer and leave until partially frozen (about 1 to 1.5 hours), then scrape up the crystals with a fork and stir well. Return to the freezer for another 1.5-2 hours, then scrape up the mixture into large crystals. At this point you can serve the granita, or scrape into a covered container and leave in the freezer until you're ready.
When you're ready to serve, whip the cream with the Baileys or whiskey until soft peaks form.
Scrape about half a cup of the granita into a glass, then top with a large spoonful of the cream.
Serve immediately.

2. Black Velvets
This isn't my invention but I've always loved the story associated with it. After the death of Prince Albert in 1861, a London bartender invented a drink that looked suitably sombre for those in mourning by mixing Guinness and champagne together. It takes a little bit of skill to get it right without the glasses overflowing, but it's otherwise a very simple drink. Just half-fill a champagne flute with sparkling wine (not your best French champagne, unless you're a member of the Guinness family or similar), then carefully, carefully, carefully, top up with chilled Guinness.

3. Guinness Affogato
If you don't have time to make a Guinness granita, as detailed above, you can still have a Guinness-y pudding. Scoop some best-quality vanilla ice cream into a chilled glass, then pour over half a shot of espresso coffee and half the same quantity of Guinness. Top with some shards of very dark chocolate.

Have a great week, everyone. Slainte!

Black Doris Coconut Ice Cream

The hand-chalked blackboard sign loomed in front of us like a vision. It was a hot, windy day in the Wairarapa and the promise of 'REAL FRUIT ICE CREAM' was the perfect cure for three crochety travellers after two hours' in the car.

We drove into the orchard and parked outside the tin shed shop. Inside, in 40-degree temperatures, a sulky queue waited while one sweating woman operated the till and another worked the ice cream counter. I began to realise that we had made a wrong turn. The fruit and vegetables, which I'd first assumed to be grown on-site, looked like they'd travelled as far as we had. The fridge was full of dog meat. None of the staff looked like they'd eaten a vegetable that wasn't a deep-fried chip for a very long time.

The 'real fruit ice cream' sealed the deal. This was no artisan orchard operation, more like a factory production line. The 'real fruit' was pre-bagged frozen stuff, fed into a tube with cheap blocks of 'vanilla' ice cream. The resulting concoction spewed in a swirl out the other end of the machine, caught by a cone that tasted of stale communion wafers.

But by then it was too late. We paid handsomely for our ice creams and sat outside in the shade, wishing we'd stopped at a dairy for three of Tip Top's finest instead.

Nothing beats a good ice cream, nothing quite disappoints like a bad one. The good stuff is easy to make at home - here's how.

Black Doris Coconut Ice Cream
Last weekend my sister brought me a bag of tiny Black Doris plums from Hawkes Bay. They were slightly too soft for eating, so I decided to have a bit of an experiment with them instead. This incredibly good ice cream was the result. I based the coconut custard on this chocolate and cinnamon ice cream recipe by Emma Galloway (an ice cream so good it inspired me to acquire an ice cream attachment for my KitchenAid). It's very easy - the only hard bit is waiting for the custard to chill.
If you don't have an ice cream maker, then you should probably try making this just as a custard - set it in small bowls and top with a lid of melted dark chocolate.

10 small Black Doris plums
2 Tbsp sugar
4 egg yolks
1/2 cup caster sugar
1 x 400ml tin coconut cream (I used Kara brand)
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
4 egg yolks
1/2 cup caster sugar

Heat the oven to 200C and line a small baking dish with foil. Halve and stone the plums, then place, cut side up, in the dish. Sprinkle over the 2Tbsp of sugar and bake for 25 minutes. Set aside to cool slightly, then mash into a puree. You should end up with about 1 cup of fruit.

To make the custard, put the egg yolks and sugar in a bowl and beat until white and fluffy (an electric mixer is the easiest way to do this).
While that's happening, put the coconut cream, vanilla and plum puree in a saucepan over medium heat. Bring to near boiling point, then pour onto the egg yolk mixture, whisking all the time.
Pour this mixture back into the saucepan and return to the heat, stirring constantly for about five minutes or until it is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.
Transfer to a bowl and cool completely before refrigerating, stirring occasionally to stop a skin from forming on the top.
When the custard has chilled thoroughly, churn in an ice cream machine according to instructions.

Have a great week, everyone x

Lemon verbena syrup + an elegant fruit salad

Four years ago, not long after my mother died, someone I didn't know very well left a lemon verbena tree on our doorstep. I found this gesture incredibly touching and kind, not least because my parents' garden had a huge lemon verbena tree and Mum often made tea from the leaves. I'm not sure if I ever properly thanked her - but Kate, if you're reading this, I often think of that kindness when I walk past the tree.

The tree has thrived, despite my neglect, but I seldom do anything with the leaves except for the occasional cup of tea. Then, while pottering around in the kitchen a week or so ago, I made this syrup and the whole house smelled like lemon verbena. It was gorgeous.

If you've got a lemon verbena tree, make this syrup now to get a dose of that intense lemony sherbet flavour in the depths of winter (or scent your house with it in summer). You can use it in drinks (nice with soda, or with very cold vodka as a kind of martini-ish number), or pour it over vanilla ice cream, or use it in this simple and elegant fruit salad (recipe follows). I'm thinking a lemon verbena sorbet could be next...

Lemon Verbena Syrup

1/2 cup boiling water
1/2 cup caster sugar
1 packed cup lemon verbena leaves

Put the water and sugar in a small pot and set over medium heat. Stir until the sugar has dissolved, then lower the heat and add the lemon verbena. Let bubble gently for five minutes, then remove from the heat and leave to cool.
When the syrup has cooled completely, strain it through a fine sieve into a sterilised bottle or jar. Discard the lemon verbena leaves or use them as a garnish (they will be almost candied). Makes about 1/2 cup.

Simple fruit salad with lemon verbena syrup
2 white-flesh peaches
2 apricots
2 dark-fleshed plums
1 1/2 cups blueberries (or boysenberries)
1/4 cup lemon verbena syrup

Cut all the stonefruit into slim wedges - about eight slices - and put in a bowl. Pour over the syrup and stir gently, then add the berries. This can be done in advance, but I think it's nicest at room temperature rather than fridge-cold. Serves 4-6.

Roadtest: The Zoku Quick Pop Maker

"Mu-umm," she says, bedraggled and worn-out at the end of a busy day at school. "I'm very hot and bothered. Do you think it's a good day to have an iceblock?"

This is what's known as parental roulette. Say yes, and you've got a 10-minute walk to the village, followed by a five-minute high, which will not be enough to get you all the way home again.  Say no, and you get a stompy six-year-old who is less than impressed with your suggestion that a nice glass of cold water when you get home will help her cool down.

After roadtesting the Zoku Quick Pop Maker, I may have found the solution.

Zoku's Quick Pop Makers are benchtop instant freezing units. You keep them in your freezer (the three-pop maker takes up about the same amount of space as a two-litre ice cream container), then whip them out to make DIY ice 'pops' (that's ice blocks to Kiwis and ice lollies to the British) in less than 10 minutes. You can make them as simple or as fancy as you like (Zoku even have a dazzling recipe book full of inspiring ideas) and - best of all - you get to control exactly what goes into them. We made the Mint Choc Chip Pops from the recipe book, using organic whole milk, agave nectar, peppermint essence and Whittaker's 72 per cent cacao chocolate - and they were fabulous.

Sound too good to be true? After some spectacular failures when trying to make homemade pops the normal way (I find they never, ever come out of the molds cleanly enough), I was very skeptical. But the Zoku worked an absolute charm. You release the pops with the aid of the 'Quick Tool' (included in each kit) and it's a mostly angst-free process. The pops are ready to eat then and there, but you can carefully wrap them in plastic and return them to the freezer to eat another day.

On the downside, they're not completely instant. The unit has to be frozen for 24 hours before you use it, and it's only good for two or three batches in a sitting. I found the second and third batches took a lot longer to freeze - and for the third, I actually returned the whole unit to the freezer for half an hour to make sure they set properly. You also need to wait for it to defrost before you clean it.

All things considered though, it's a pretty fun addition to the kitchen. A Quick Pop Maker would also make a fantastic family Christmas present for the people with everything. If you're going to buy your children a device of some kind, at least get them one that encourages real-time social interaction!

THE DETAILS
Zoku Quick Pop Makers come in three sizes - single (RRP $49.99), duo and triple (RRP $110). Each comes with a Quick Tool, sticks and drip guards, plus instructions. Find New Zealand stockists here.

GIVEAWAY
Want to win a Quick Pop Maker? Check out The Kitchenmaid on Facebook for your chance to win one!

Creme fraiche and chocolate nut truffles

Last Sunday my sister-in-law turned up on my doorstep with a huge chocolate cake, a tub of Zany Zeus creme fraiche and a jar of Fix and Fogg chocolate peanut butter.

We anointed the cake with dollops of both - such a good activity on a winter Sunday afternoon, sitting around, eating cake with chocolate peanut butter on top - and then they left. "I expect you to do something creative with that peanut butter," she called over her shoulder as they left. "No chance," I said. "I'm just going to eat it out of the jar."

But it turns out there's only so many spoonfuls of chocolate peanut butter and creme fraiche you can eat in a week. Here's what you should do with the rest.

Creme fraiche and chocolate nut truffles
If you're not in the habit of having either of the main ingredients lying around, you could always make your own creme fraiche AND make your own salted chocolate nut butter. Then you can whip these up whenever you like, rather than for the rare occasions when you have some going spare.

1/2 cup creme fraiche
1/3 cup chocolate peanut butter
1/4 cup ground almonds
1/2 tsp pure vanilla
1/3 cup finely chopped dark chocolate (about 10 squares of Whittaker's Dark Ghana)
a good pinch of sea salt

For rolling:
2 Tbsp ground almonds
1 Tbsp cocoa, sifted

To make the truffles, put all ingredients in a bowl and beat until well combined.
Mix the second measure of ground almonds and cocoa together in a shallow bowl.
Roll teaspoonfuls of the mixture into small balls, then roll them in the almonds and cocoa. Leave in the fridge to set for 30 minutes before eating. Store, covered, in the fridge. Makes about 22 balls, depending on how much you eat in the process.

Have a great week, everyone!

Chocolate cakes with citrus cheesecake centres

Cupcakes - so 2007, right? Depends who you ask. Personally, I've made about 50 in the last month, so I think they're quite 2015 too. They're brilliant if you're doing any kind of baking for charity because they're so easy to portion and transport. And children, who are less affected by trends, love them.

Cupcakes are also the flavour of the month for June's We Should Cocoa and Tea Time Treats blogging events, so perhaps they're not quite out of fashion yet.

Secret citrus and cream cupcakes
This is my go-to, all-time, never-fail chocolate cake recipe, upcycled with a touch of cream cheese and marmalade to make chocolate cupcakes with a secret gooey middle. Imagine something like a dark sticky chocolate cake wrapped around a citrus cheesecake filling and you've got the idea.

1 2/3 cups flour
1 1/2 cups caster sugar
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
2/3 cup cocoa
1 tsp salt
100g butter, melted and cooled
1 1/2 cups milk
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
2/3 cup cream cheese
2/3 cup thin-cut marmalade

Preheat the oven to 180C and put cupcake cases in 18 muffin tin holes.

Sift the dry ingredients into a large bowl and mix well. Add the butter, milk and eggs and beat furiously with a wooden spoon until well mixed (you can also do this in the processor or in a mixer).
Fill each cupcake case until it is about a third full, then put a teaspoon of cream cheese and a teaspoon of marmalade on top. Top with more cupcake batter, until each case is about two-thirds full. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until the cakes are springy and a skewer plunged into them comes out clean.
Remove to a rack to cool. Store in an airtight container.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

How to fake a wedding cake

This is the wedding cake that nearly wasn't.

When one of my oldest and dearest friends announced she was getting married, I immediately offered to make the wedding cake. She accepted the offer and that was that.

When their wedding was delayed to May, I breathed a sigh of relief and put the cake on the back burner.

Then all of a sudden it was April, the bride was talking multiple layers, chocolate ganache, and the merits of chocolate mud versus chocolate and fig, I had a million other things on my mind and I was lying awake at night, panicking about The Cake.

It was then I remembered that I'd been in this situation before. Five years ago, with a small baby and ideas above my station, I offered to make the wedding cake for some dear friends who'd blown into New Zealand from London to get married.

"Oh yes please," they said. "Don't go to any trouble, but we'd like it to have three layers and have licorice allsorts exploding out the top."

Making the cakes - one chocolate and fig, one chocolate mud and one banana (the groom's favourite flavour) - was easy. Doing the decorating was not. Not for the first time, I recalled a school report in which my teacher said I was often frustrated when my grand plans for artworks didn't come to fruition. I handed the baby to my mother-in-law and spent 24 hours wrestling with kilos of white fondant icing, alternating between wanting to cry and wanting to cheer.

On the afternoon of the wedding, my beloved and I balanced the cake on our knees while my father-in-law drove as slowly as he could around corners. We screamed every time the cake lurched towards my silk dress, more for the sake of the cake than my outfit. By the time we got to the venue the cake had several dents in it and I needed a strong drink to settle my nerves.

It nearly killed me, but the lovely bride and groom were happy and lots of guests said nice things about the cake. Still, I swore that it was the last time I would ever do it.

With those memories flooding back, I rang the bride. "I can't do it," I told her. "I'm too afraid it will be a disaster and you'll be even more disappointed in me than you feel right now."

Like the good friend she is, she took this news on the chin. Instead of making the cake, I decided to redefine my role as chief cake wrangler. I set about getting cake quotes and set up a wedding cake Pinterest board to gather ideas. When they baulked at the quotes - a two or three tier wedding cake is in the region of $400-$500 - I came up with plan B.

Instead of requesting a wedding cake, I asked Pandoro Bakery to make us two large cakes - one a 14" Black Doris Plum Chocolate, the other a 10" Mediterranean Orange, which they present on gold foil cake boards. I got them to ice them identically with chocolate ganache, with the sides rolled in white chocolate shavings.

The day before the wedding, my fellow bridesmaid and I picked them up and took them on a two-hour car ride (mercifully, on very straight roads).

Later that night, the groom helped me engineer the two together, inserting dowel rods to keep the top layer from collapsing into the bottom. With no storage option, we carefully manoeuvred the cake into a beer fridge and prayed it would survive the night.

The next morning, I returned to the venue, rescued the cake from the fridge and plopped some white roses on top. Just like that, the job was done.

The cake looked beautiful, my 22-year friendship with the bride is still intact and my mental health is sound. I may never make a special occasion cake again.

Are you prone to making special occasion cake promises? Do you have any secret tips?

Five fab ways with beetroot

I have one plan for my winter vegetable garden. When - or if - the wind drops and the rain stops - I'm going to plan beetroot by the dozen. Their beautiful green and crimson leaves will look quite fetching on grey winter days and the roots will be protected from the wild weather, packed in cacao husks and zoo compost. At least, that's the plan. In the meantime, I've made a list of my five favourite ways with beetroot, including a truly addictive dip. If I don't get my own harvest sorted, I'll be doing my bit to support local beetroot growers.

1. Beetroot, Feta And Wasabi Dip
This dip is super easy to make if you use vacuum-packed ready-cooked beetroot (now finally widely available in New Zealand supermarkets - look for the LeaderBrand packs near the salad vegetables in your supermarket). I dollop it on crostini or crackers with a bit of cream cheese or strained Greek yoghurt, then sprinkle something green on top. The only other thing you have to do is not tip it down your front, especially when wearing anything white.

250g cooked beetroot
1 clove garlic, squashed to a paste with 1/4 tsp salt
100g feta, diced
2 Tbsp Greek yoghurt
1/2 tsp wasabi (or horseradish)
1 Tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice

Put all ingredients in a food processor and whizz until a smooth puree forms (stop to scrape down the sides of the processor as necessary). Taste for seasoning, then scrape into a bowl and serve. Makes about two cups - store any leftovers in the fridge for up to three days.

2. Shocking Pink Beetroot Bread
This is a true 'do not adjust your set' representation of what this Beetroot Bread looks like in real life - it really IS that pink. It doesn't have any discernable beet-y flavour, but the pinkness is pretty fun.

3. Raw Beetroot With Caraway, Fennel And Feta
One day I sent my beloved to the shops to buy caraway seeds - and he helpfully came back with a 500g bag. I've resisted the urge to make endless seed cakes, but I have found a use for them in this salad, which combines caraway with raw grated beetroot, fennel and feta.

4. Raw Beetroot Bliss Balls
These Raw Beetroot Bliss Balls are another pretty-in-pink flight of fancy - the colour is all-natural. Think of the anti-oxidants! If you're trying to get your children (or other friends and family) to eat more vegetables, this is a very easy way to do it.

5. Big Bold Beetroot Soup
Beetroot is a key ingredient in this hearty winter soup for people who don't like following recipes (particularly husbands, I have found). It's big, bold, red - and delicious.

What's your favourite thing to do with beetroot?

Pretend hot cross buns

Long-time readers will know that I'm a traditionalist when it comes to Easter - no hot cross buns before Good Friday; no Easter eggs before Easter Sunday. That's not to say that it doesn't get extremely hard to resist these things sometimes, especially when a packet of hot cross buns turns up in  your kitchen at breakfast time on a Saturday morning.
My resolve to give up chocolate for Lent has wobbled a bit in recent weeks - chocolate icecream doesn't really count, does it? - but I'm staying strong on the HCBs. Mainly that's because I've invented some you can eat at any time, guilt-free. Here's how.

'Pretend' Hot Cross Buns
These lookalike 'buns' - really bliss balls with the flavours of hot cross buns and white chocolate crosses - have many things going for them. My favourite, though, is that you can eat them while you're waiting for the real ones to cook (or toast). What are you waiting for?

1 cup sultanas
1 cup ground almonds
1 1/2 tsp mixed spice
2 Tbsp coconut oil (or olive oil)
1 Tbsp honey
finely grated zest of one orange
1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup roughly chopped white chocolate

Put all ingredients except the chocolate into a food processor and whiz until you can pinch together small amounts. Take dessertspoon-sized heaps of the mixture and form into square-ish 'buns' and place on a tray lined with baking paper.
Gently melt the white chocolate - put it in a small bowl, then set this over a bowl of freshly boiled water from the kettle - and put into a small ziplock bag or piping bag. Pipe crosses over the buns and leave to set. Store in the fridge - makes about 18 'buns'.

Raw beetroot bliss balls

A dear friend of mine calls herself an alternative eater - wholefoods, no meat, no refined sugar, the whole kit and kaboodle. While that makes her a rather challenging dinner guest, she's also one of the most appreciative people a cook could hope to create for. After I got over feeling daunted by her request for a birthday cake last weekend - especially one that could withstand a car journey and an afternoon in the sun - I had a burst of inspiration and these pretty-in-pink bliss balls were the result. 

Raw beetroot bliss balls - for Catherine

You don't have to be an alternative eater to love these. In fact, you don't even have to like beetroot. Soaking the almonds makes them easier to whizz up.

1 cup loosely packed grated beetroot
1 cup dates

1 /2 cup whole almonds

1/2 cup roughly chopped best quality dark chocolate or cacao nibs, optional

1/2 cup desiccated coconut, plus about 3/4 cup for rolling

Put the dates and almonds in a small heatproof bowl and cover with boiling water. Set aside for 15 minutes, then drain.

Tip the beetroot into a food processor and whiz until finely chopped. Add the drained dates and almonds, the chocolate (if using) and the 1/2 cup measure of coconut. Whizz until it clumps together.

Put the second measure of coconut into a shallow bowl. Form teaspoonfuls of the mixture into balls, then roll in the coconut. Store in the fridge. Makes around 36 small balls.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

Treat me: Easy coffee cake with coffee cream icing

Did you give up coffee, sugar and cake on January 1? Nah, me neither. If you did, look away now. Because here comes a lush coffee cake - that is, a cake with coffee in it, not just a cake to have with coffee - with a thick head of creamy coffee icing.

Easy Coffee Cake With Coffee Cream Icing
Just like this time last year, we are playing host to some of Wellington's finest tradesmen. (Note to self: buying an old house is a dumb idea.) We're almost old mates by now, so on Fridays I turn on a proper morning tea for them to knock back with their sandwiches at 10am. This cake vanished in seconds and one of them came inside with the empty plate to say "that was choiiiiiice!" I hope I haven't raised the bar too high for next week.

1 1/2 cups caster sugar
2 eggs
3/4 cup rice bran oil
pinch of salt
1 cup full-fat Greek yoghurt
2 Tbsp instant coffee dissolved in 2 Tbsp hot water
2 cups self-raising flour

Preheat the oven to 180C and grease and line a 24cm cake tin.
Put the sugar and eggs in a food processor (or a large bowl) and whizz or beat with a wooden spoon until well mixed and slightly fluffy. Add the oil, salt, yoghurt, coffee and flour and pulse (or stir) until smooth.
Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 35-40 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes then turn out of the tin and let cool completely on a rack. Cover with coffee cream icing as below, sprinkle over some vanilla grounds or finely grated dark chocolate, and serve.

For the coffee cream icing: Take 50g soft unsalted butter, 100g room temperature cream cheese, 1 tsp vanilla extract, 1 tsp instant coffee dissolved in 1 tsp hot water, and 1 cup icing sugar. Whizz in the rinsed-out processor (or beat furiously in the rinsed out bowl). Try not to eat it all before it goes on the cake.

Have a great weekend, everyone. Hope the new year has been kind so far...

Chilli chocolate syrup + a chilli chocolate martini

It's about this time of year that I start to feel slightly panicked and wish I could run away to some kind of closed community where they don't celebrate Christmas, or have jobs, or blogs or Things To Worry About. Do you feel like that too?

The internet is the worst place to be if you're in that kind of mood, because CHRISTMAS is around every turn. Don't, whatever you do, venture on to Pinterest, or you'll fall into a deep depression at the realisation that you've failed dismally as a mother/partner/sibling/friend/member of society because you haven't planned your themed decorations, hand-stitched jaunty bunting or made 20 sets of Frozen-themed figurines of every kid in your child's class from air-dried clay. And you've still got to bake for the school gala, sort your invoices, locate the spare car key and send your dear friend her birthday present, now three months overdue (sorry Claire!). 

Fear not, friends, because I have a remedy to lift you to a higher place. It's chocolate chilli syrup - and if pouring it over cake or ice cream doesn't cheer you up, then adding it to a martini certainly will. Here's how.

Chocolate chilli syrup

If you're stuck for easy DIY Christmas gifts, this should go on the list. It takes minutes, doesn't cost much and is extremely simple. It's my offering for this month's We Should Cocoa challenge, hosted by the lovely Shaheen of Allotment2Kitchen. No surprises in guessing this month's guest ingredient - it's chilli.

1 cup water

1 cup caster sugar

3 Tbsp good quality cocoa powder

1 tsp chilli flakes

Stir the sugar and cocoa together in a small pot, then add the water and mix well. Bring to the boil and let simmer for five minutes, then remove from heat. Stir in the chilli and let cool to room temperature. Strain through a fine sieve into a jar or bottle and cover tightly. Store in the fridge.

Chocolate chilli martini

Martini purists, look away now - this is very much my desperate housewife interpretation.

60ml ice cold vodka

30ml vermouth

30ml chilli chocolate syrup

ice

Put all ingredients in a cocktail shaker (confession: I use a jam jar) and shake well. Strain into a martini glass (or two, if you're generous).

 

Pumpkin, prune and chocolate bars

I'm sure there's a Chinese proverb about disaster being the mother of invention, or danger being the signpost to opportunity, or something like that. I'm not sure that it's often successfully applied to baking, but there's a first time for everything.

Earlier this week I stumbled upon Nicola Galloway's recipe for chocolate chickpea cookies and pretty much decided I had to make them on the spot. We got through them really quickly and I figured I could whip up something quite similar, but with pumpkin instead of chickpeas, and prunes instead of dates. So this is the result - something inspired by, but completely different to, those cookies. And it's every bit as delicious.

Pumpkin, prune and chocolate bars
These soft, slightly chewy bars are very addictive - trust me, I've consumed several in the course of writing this post. The mix of ingredients means they're a perfect fit for October's We Should Cocoa challenge, this month hosted by Hannah at Honey and Dough. The slightly random nature of how this recipe came to be also means it's a strong contender for the October edition of Random Recipes - you can find out more about the criteria for this month here.
You do need to have some cooked pumpkin lying about for this recipe - do what I do and just throw a piece in the oven the next time it's on and let it bake away untended. Then scrape the soft flesh into a container and freeze it to make yourself feel super organised when recipes like this come along.

1 cup prunes
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup mashed pumpkin (or - if you must - canned pumpkin puree)
100g butter, melted
1 egg
1 tsp pure vanilla
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
100g dark chocolate, roughly chopped

Tip the prunes into a small bowl and cover with boiling water. Set aside while you get everything else ready.
Heat the oven to 180C and line a small brownie pan (measuring about 27 x 20 cm) with baking paper, leaving some overhang.
Put the rolled oats into a food processor and whiz until finely ground. Tip out into another bowl.
Drain the prunes, then tip them into the processor, along with the pumpkin, melted butter and egg. Whiz until smooth, then add the ground oats, cinnamon and baking soda and whiz again until well mixed. Add the chocolate and pulse until mixed.
Scrape the mixture into the prepared tin and bake for 25-30 minutes, until set and slightly springy to touch. Let cool, then cut into bars. Store in an airtight container in the fridge.

Have a great week, everyone x

Double chocolate beetroot cakes

Delusion is a wonderful thing. It's why dress shops have flattering mirrors, why cosmetic counters have soft lighting and why a whole industry has sprung up around 'healthy' baking.

There are two ingredients required for 'healthy' baking - either fruit and vegetables (hello, carrot cake) or oats (to whit, the entire British flapjack industry). Now, few people will dispute the merits of vegetables or whole grains, but they're not enough to mitigate the ingredients needed to turn them into cakes or biscuits. Far better, I think, to concentrate on the deliciousness imparted by a couple of juicy beetroots to a trayful of chocolate-studded cakes than angst about whether they're good for you or not.

Double chocolate and beetroot cakes
This is a good school holiday activity for idle hands - especially if you can get them involved in the dishes afterwards. This recipe makes around 18 cakes, which keep well in an airtight tin and can be frozen very successfully for lunchboxes or unexpected visitors.

It's also a fitting entry for October's Tea Time Treats, a blogging event run by Karen of Lavender and Lovage and Jane of The Hedgecombers. This month, they're looking for recipes containing fruit and vegetables. If you subscribe to the theory that chocolate is derived from a fruit, then this fits the bill on both counts.

2 cups wholemeal flour
3/4 cup caster sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
4Tbsp good quality cocoa
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 cup coconut
3/4 cup roughly chopped dark chocolate
3 eggs
3/4 cup caster sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
2/3 cup oil
1/4 cup yoghurt
3 cups finely grated raw beetroot (about 2 medium beetroots)

Heat the oven to 160C (fanbake) and line 18-muffin pans with cupcake liners (not essential, but makes for easier cleaning up and no anxiety when it comes to getting them out of the tin).
Sift the flour, cocoa, spices and baking soda into a bowl. Stir in the coconut and chopped chocolate and set aside.
Beat the eggs, sugar, yoghurt and oil together until thick and pale. Fold in the dry ingredients, then the beetroot. Divide between the prepared tins - each one should be about two-thirds full - and bake for 20-25 minutes.
I like these just as they are, but they're also very good with a simple cream cheese icing (beat together 1 cup soft cream cheese with 2 Tbsp honey and 1/2 tsp pure vanilla) and a scattering of chocolate. (That does make them less 'healthy' though!)

What's your favourite 'healthy' baking treat?

The best ever chocolate coconut chia pudding

There's no question about it; chia seeds are miraculous. Not only do they contain all sorts of good things like omega 3 fatty acids, potassium and all the amino acids a girl could want (making them a complete protein), they also swell amazingly fast in liquid meaning you can have chocolate pudding for breakfast. That's what I call a miracle.

Chocolate coconut chia pudding
This is my current favourite breakfast - it's very portable, very fast and it keeps you going for ages. The only trouble is, it's very hard to stop eating it, especially when you discover that it goes extremely well with a scoop of fridge-cold coconut cream (or yoghurt, if you're virtuous). If you have fearful childhood memories of sago and tapioca pudding, the bobbly texture may not be for you. But that just means there's more for me...

400ml can coconut milk
1/3 cup chia seeds
3 Tbsp best quality cocoa
1 Tbsp golden syrup or runny honey
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
pinch of salt

Put everything in a bowl and stir vigorously, until well mixed. Set aside - in a cold kitchen or in the fridge - for 15 minutes. The chia seeds will swell like magic, thickening the liquid. If it seems a little too thick, add a little water or more coconut milk. Grate a little chocolate or grind some vanilla over the top. Serves 2-4 people, depending on greed.

Have a great weekend, everyone! x

Ambrosia, food of the gods

If you grew up in New Zealand in the 1970s and 1980s, there's a good chance this pudding will be instantly recognisable. If not, it's high time you got acquainted.

This is ambrosia, food of the gods. I remember it sweeping through parties and social occasions of my childhood like a tidal wave of cream, fruit and pineapple lumps. My mother never made it, which gave it extra cachet. To my 10-year-old self, ambrosia was just about the most glamorous pudding ever invented. 

Thirty years later, I can vouch for many of its attributes. The mixture of cream and yoghurt is still tangy and rich, and it's great fun anticipating the surprise in each mouthful - will it be a marshmallow or a juicy berry? I doubt it's the food of the modern gods, given its extremely calorific ingredients, but it still makes a great pudding (or a very illicit breakfast).

Ambrosia

The great thing about ambrosia is that it doesn't require any fancy ingredients, can be made for an intimate dinner for two or a feeding frenzy for 20 and it appeals to just about everyone. Children adore it and adults, though they pretend they are too grown up to eat marshmallows, will dig into the bowl as soon as your back is turned. It's sort of an Antipodean Eton Mess, which makes it the perfect entry for this month's Sweet New Zealand blogging challenge. This month my lovely friends Michelle and Anna of Munch Cooking are playing host and they've given it a Wellington theme to celebrate Wellington On a Plate. It's also a fitting entry for the August edition of We Should Cocoa, in which guest host Rebecca of BakeNQuilt has chosen marshmallows as the special guest ingredient.

180ml (3/4 cup) cream

2 cups natural yoghurt (I particularly like The Collective's Straight Up yoghurt in this)

1 tsp pure vanilla extract

2 cups frozen berries - blueberries, raspberries, boysenberries, blackberries

2 cups mini marshmallows

100g chocolate, roughly chopped

Whip the cream until it forms soft peaks. Stir through the yoghurt and vanilla, then fold through the berries, marshmallows and chocolate (reserve a little of the chocolate to sprinkle on top). Cover and chill for at least 30 minutes before serving. I think it's best the day it's made, unless you're eating it sneakily for breakfast the morning after. Serves 4-6.

Have a great week, everyone x