Asian mint sauce

Remember mint sauce? I wouldn't be surprised if you don't. I'd all but forgotten about it myself, until last week when the Mr brought home half a slow-cooked lamb shoulder as a souvenir from a night out.

While I was reheating it for dinner the next evening, watching fat pooling in the roasting dish and feeling too tired to make hummus, I remembered the ultimate in traditional accompaniments. Five minutes later...

Asian Mint Sauce
Let's be clear, this is a mint sauce with vaguely Asian ingredients, not a sauce of Asian mint (though I'm sure that would be nice, and if you have some growing, adding it would be a good experiment).

2 Tbsp grated palm sugar, or brown sugar
1/2 cup rice vinegar
a good pinch of flaky sea salt
about 40 fresh mint leaves, shredded

Put the sugar, vinegar and salt in a small pot. Bring it to the boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar and salt. Remove from the heat and add the mint. Stir and leave to cool, then transfer to a lidded glass jar. Store in the fridge and use liberally on appropriated roast lamb, among other things.

Given the weirdness of our weather - nearly May and it's still t-shirt weather in most parts of New Zealand, while it's sleeting in the northern hemisphere - it seems this fits the bill for Lavender and Lovage's Cooking With Herbs blogging challenge for April, which focuses on herbs for spring and Easter.

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?

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!

Coconut, chocolate and vanilla cake

When I rule the world, I'm going to introduce a law banning vanilla-flavoured perfumes and all forms of fake vanilla extract.

Real vanilla has such a beautiful, delicate scent, but it's been ruined by the synthetic variants wafting through a home near you.

Vanilla soap, vanilla perfume, vanilla moisturiser, vanilla candles, they'll all be banned. Fake vanilla extracts will be outlawed, too. Instead, we'll feast on real vanilla-scented cakes, like this tropical number.

Coconut, chocolate and vanilla cake

This has a triple dose of vanilla, but it's not overpowering. Just make sure you use the real deal. The combination of chocolate and vanilla - a powerful duo - makes this just right for this month's We Should Cocoa, hosted by the ever-lovely Karen of Lavender and Lovage.

125g butter, softened

1 cup caster sugar

4 eggs, at room temperature

1 tsp pure vanilla

2 cups desiccated coconut

1 cup flour

'1 1/2 tsp baking powder

pinch salt

3/4 cup roughly chopped dark chocolate

For the syrup:

1/2 cup boiling water

1/2 cup sugar

2 tsp pure vanilla

For the icing:

1/2 cup icing sugar

1 tsp butter

2 tsp pure vanilla

2 tsp boiling water

Heat the oven to 170C and grease and line a 23cm ring tin (or similar).

Cream the butter and sugar together until very light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating furiously. If it looks in danger of curdling, add a little of the desiccated coconut. When the eggs are all in, add the coconut and vanilla. Beat to combine, then fold in the sifted flour, baking powder and salt. Scraipe into the prepared tin and bake for 30 mins, until a skewer comes out cleanly. Leave in the tin for five minutes, then stab with a skewer (very satisfying!) and pour over the syrup (just stir together the boiling water, sugar and vanilla to make it).

When the cake has cooled, carefully remove from the tin and set on a plate.

Make the icing by beating together all the ingredients - you may need more boiling water to make it the right consistency - and drizzle it over the cake.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

Old-fashioned vegetable soup

Did you know that in some places they're not making journalism interns learn shorthand any more? I know, I'm shocked too. Instead of giving them a good grounding in Teeline, they're giving them magic recording pens that download interviews straight to a computer.

I knew the world would pass me by one day but I didn't think it would happen so soon. I hate to think what Mary, my shorthand teacher, would think of this. Mary, a saintly sort, reckoned shorthand was crucial for getting you out of a tight spot. Mary warned against relying on dictaphones for fear they would break down and advised us to always carry a pencil because it would enable us to write in wet conditions. I hate to think what she'd make of a magic pen.

My shorthand isn't what it used to be (ahem, I could do 120 wpm in my heyday), but I still use it all the time. I have recipe notes full of part shorthand, part longhand scrawl and I can still write a shopping list in seconds. Bet fancy youngsters can't do that with magic pens.

To seal my reputation as a past-it hack of no use to anyone, here's a vegetable soup recipe so old-fashioned it's probably due a hipster revival.

Old-fashioned vegetable soup
This is so simple you don't need a magic pen or shorthand skills to memorise the recipe. It's very comforting, hearty and cheap to make. Be careful when buying soup mix as some are packed with unnecessary flavourings and salt. If you can't find a decent one (Wellingtonians: Moore Wilson has 500g bags of soup mix that are ideal), then just use a mix of split peas, red lentils and pearl barley.

1 cup (250g) soup mix
4 cups chopped vegetables - eg onion, carrot, celery, sweet potato, pumpkin
8 cups good quality vegetable or chicken stock
fresh herbs - parsley, chervil, coriander

Put the soup mix, vegetables and stock in a large pot. Bring to a simmer, skim off any scum and let cook, uncovered, for about 1 - 1 1/2 hours, until the vegetables are tender. Stir through some fresh herbs before serving. Makes about 10 cups and freezes well.

Chocolate brioche buns

It has become very fashionable for recipes to appear in the post-Easter sugar haze exhorting ways to use up excess chocolate eggs. But because I usually give up chocolate before Easter - or at least try to - and I'm a bit fussy about the chocolate I eat, any nice Easter eggs are usually cracked and dispatched pretty quickly. This year, with a 5am wake-up call from the youngest member of our household, I spent the day eating any chocolate I could get my hands on in a bid to stay upright. By Easter Monday, I couldn't bear the sight of it.

I got fairly sick of hot cross buns this year too - spending a day making endless batches will do that to a person - and so by the time the weekend was over I wanted something light and non-fruity, but with a hint of real chocolate (not the Easter egg kind).

These fluffy brioche buns were the result. They're most excellent with a generous splodge of cream cheese and a dollop of marmalade - and with a long weekend coming up, you should think about adding them to your repertoire.

Chocolate Brioche Buns
The instructions below detail how to make these with a stand mixer - it can be done by hand, but it's a bit more labour intensive.  I've designed this recipe so the buns are ready for breakfastIf you don't want the buns for breakfast, the dough will rise in about an hour at room temperature.

275ml milk (I use Zany Zeus 'blue')
500g high grade flour
1 1/2 tsp dried yeast
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup caster sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
50g unsalted butter, soft but not melted, diced
80g good quality dark chocolate, melted (I use Whittaker's 60 per cent cacao)
100g good quality dark chocolate, smashed into little bits (I use Whittaker's 60 per cent cacao)

Egg wash: 1 egg beaten with 1 Tbsp milk

Sugar glaze: 1/4 cup boiling water mixed with 1/4 cup brown sugar

Scald the milk and set aside to cool to lukewarm. Add the eggs and stir to mix.
Put the flour, yeast, salt and sugar into the bowl of a freestanding mixer and stir until combined, then pour in the egg and milk mixture and mix well.
Using the dough hook, mix on low-medium speed (about 3 or 4) until the dough is shiny and elastic, about 5-8 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as necessary (turn the mixer off first!).
Keeping the mixer on medium speed, drizzle in the melted chocolate. When it has all absorbed, start add the butter, one piece at a time, until it is all mixed in.
Cover the bowl with plastic and put in the fridge overnight, during which time it will double in size.
In the morning, tip the dough out on to a lightly floured worktop. knead in more choco
Cover with a cloth for 15 minutes, while you make a cup of tea and heat the oven to 180C.
Shape the dough into 10-12 balls and place on a lined baking tray. Brush each one with egg wash and bake for 15-20 minutes, until risen and cooked through. Brush with the hot sugar glaze and remove to a rack to cool (though they will probably all be eaten before that happens).

The chocolate and egg component make this the perfect opportunity to link up with two of my favourite bloggers, Karen of Lavender and Lovage and Dom of Belleau Kitchen. This month both Karen's Tea Time Treats and Dom's latest invention, Simply Eggcellent, have a chocolate theme. Click the links to find more chocolatey, eggy goodness.

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?

Kombucha 101: Fermented drinks for beginners

Kombucha - a kind of slightly fizzy fermented tea - is having a moment. 

The drink, which is made from sugar, tea, bacteria and yeast, has been around for centuries, but a resurgence in all things fermented means it's especially hot right now. There are Facebook groups devoted to sharing 'scobies' (the culture needed to make the drink), commercially made versions that sell for up to NZ$20 for a 750ml bottle and loads of forums where devoteees discuss the best kinds of tea and sugar to use. A kombucha bar, with six different kinds of kombucha available on tap, even opened in the hip Sydney neighbourhood of Leichhardt last week. 

Devotees believe kombucha has all sorts of health benefits thanks to its probiotic properties. I'm not in a position to make any claims as to kombucha's efficacy - it hasn't cured me of anything or driven me to Instagram my abs on a daily basis - but I do think it's good for digestion. More importantly, I like the way it tastes, which is my main consideration.

Berry kombucha, brewed in November 2014

I've been making my own kombucha since late last year, after receiving a scoby from someone I met via the 'Fermenting Freaks Forever' Facebook group. I know it might sound strange to invite a perfect stranger to send you a gelatinous-looking yeast culture in the post, but it's worked out well. So far I've shared the scobies I've grown with lots of other strangers - as well as any advice I can give them about brewing the perfect batch. 

If you're in New Zealand and you'd like a scoby, don't buy one. Look on Freecycle or Facebook - there is bound to be someone in your community who has some to give away. If you're in Wellington, feel free to contact me - I have more than I know what to do with.

There's loads of information available online about how to get started, but a lot of people find it extremely confusing to navigate. Here's the advice I give to my kombucha recipients - and they've all been successful so far.

Continuous brew kombucha (that's the scoby floating in the tea). Image:Catherine Adam

Kombucha 101

As well as a scoby (which stands for Symbiotic Culture Of Bacteria and Yeast), you'll need a large glass vessel. I recommend scouring your local op shop for a large jar - like a two-litre gherkin jar, or similar - to see if you like it, before rushing off to invest in a big vessel with a spigot. The latter can be found in most homewares stores - the one in the picture came from The Warehouse. Make sure the spigot is plastic (most of them are). You'll also need a supply of glass bottles with lids in which to bottle the brew. I use clean screwtop wine bottles - for some reason we always have plenty of those to hand.

This is how you make what they call 'continuous brew' kombucha - because it's always on the go. If you want to have a rest from it at any stage, then put it in the fridge and bring it back to life on your return.

What you need:

13 cups boiling water

2/3 cup sugar

8 plain black or green teabags (or 2 Tbsp looseleaf tea)

1 scoby and 1 cup kombucha (this is often referred to as 'starter tea' - anyone who gives you a scoby will give you some starter tea as well)

What you need to do:

1. Put the boiling water and sugar in a large pot and stir well. Let cool for a bit, then add the teabags and let them steep for 10-15 minutes. Carefully pull them out and let the hot tea cool to room temperature.

2. Carefully pour the cooled tea into your nice, clean glass vessel (strain it through a fine sieve if you have used teabags). Gently pour in the kombucha liquid and scoby. 

3. Cover the top of the glass vessel with a piece of muslin or fabric and secure with a rubber band or piece of string. This allows the kombucha to breathe, but keeps out flies and other bugs. Leave in an open spot, out of direct sunlight. 

4. After a week, taste the kombucha - it should be 'dry', but not too vinegar-y, with that distinctive flavour. If you think it's ready, then drain it into bottles and add flavouring to them, eg fruit, ginger, lemon or orange zest and 1 tsp sugar. The kombucha will eat up all the sugar, so don't worry about adding it. 

5. Seal the bottles tightly and set aside until you are ready to drink them. They will keep fermenting - if you want to stop the process, put them in the fridge. 

Important things to remember:

1. Make sure you leave at least one cup of kombucha with your scoby at all times or it will find it hard to make more. As it grows, it will form new layers in your jar. This is perfectly normal and a good sign. If, however, it looks like it is growing furry mould, then this is NOT good and you may have to start again. 

2. Make sure you keep everything super clean - clean the bottles and lids with hot soapy water and rinse well with boiling water.

3. Plain white sugar is best - do NOT use honey as it can affect how the scoby grows. Avoid brown sugar too - it makes the kombucha quite yeasty and seems quite sweet.

4. Save any flavouring to the 'second ferment' eg when the kombucha is bottled. The scoby doesn't like any flavoured or herbal teas - just ordinary gumboot tea is perfectly fine. It's like a tradesman - it likes hot, sweet, ordinary tea and regular praise!

5. However, if you want to be fancy, green tea or white tea is also good. You can use decaffeinated black tea, but I'd advise throwing in a normal teabag or two for flavour reasons. Decaff' tea by itself is a bit tasteless. White tea gives the kombucha a delicate, floral flavour.

6. When it comes to flavouring the second ferment, anything goes. I most often use frozen berries (say, six frozen blueberries and a teaspoon of sugar to 750ml kombucha), or slices of fresh ginger. Elderflower and ginger is another gorgeous combination. My all-time favourite is using my sister's homemade crystallised orange peel and a few slices of fresh ginger for a kind of Cointreau-ish kombucha.

7. The kombucha will ferment a lot faster in warmer weather - you may need to check it earlier. If you have left it too long for it to be pleasant to drink, you can always bottle it as vinegar. I've successfully made fridge pickles using kombucha vinegar and my sister-in-law has made raspberry kombucha vinegar. 

Are you a kombucha fan?

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?

Five great bakes for Good Bitches Baking

Are you a Good Bitch? I am. In fact, I'm one of many.

I'm not telling you this to show off, but to get you to join us in a kind of sweet revolutionary movement. Good Bitches Baking is an attempt to make the world a better place via the medium of cake and biscuits. It's been set up by two amazing women, Marie Fitzpatrick and Nicole Murray, who recognised the value of the little things (and cake) in tough times.

Since September, they've harnessed a miniature army of around 80 keen cooks in Wellington alone who bake for people in times of strife. Recipients here so far include hospices, refuges, City Missions, a soup kitchen, boarding houses and the Neo-Natal Trust.

If you're not a Good Bitch but you'd like to help, then you can find out more about Good Bitches Baking or visit the Good Bitches Baking GiveALittle page.

If you are a Good Bitch and you need ideas for easily made, easily transported, easily consumed home-style baking, then this list is designed to help. Here goes...

1. Big Fat Ginger Crunch
This is an excellent GBB bake, because the not-so-pretty edge pieces can find their ways into lunchboxes the next day. I use this Spicy Ginger Crunch recipe  most of the time, though Chelsea Winter's Oaty Ginger Crunch is pretty great too.

2. Wholesome Fruity Muffins
These super-popular muffins are a not as heavy as those bran bullets of old, but they're not pretend cakes, either. This recipe is vegan, but I've been making them recently with regular milk and two eggs instead of the banana.

3. Double Chocolate Beetroot Cakes
Having said all that, these are definitely cakes in muffin form - a big hit of antioxidant-rich beetroot, chocolate and a fluffy hat of cream cheese frosting. This recipe makes a big batch so there may be some left over for your at-home testers...

4. White Chocolate And Lemon Bars
I can only ever make this if I know I am giving it away immediately - otherwise I'd probably eat the tray in an afternoon, all by myself. I use this Lime And White Chocolate Bars recipe, but often switch out the lime for lemon, and add dried cranberries or apricots. SO good! This recipe is also great for steamy summer/autumn days, when slaving over a hot oven makes you feel bitchy (not in a good way).

5. Old-Fashioned Fruit Loaf
Alice Arndell has a fantastic old-fashioned fruit loaf recipe in her book 'Alice In Bakingland' - it makes two big loaves, freezes well and tastes great. I can't find a link to it online anywhere (you should buy her book, it's really useful for GBB weekends - the melt 'n mix banana cake is also a lifesaver) but this Juicy Fruit Loaf is always a winner.

Happy baking, everyone. In this case, charity really does begin at home!

Just add water soup + a giveaway!

When we came home from our epic Euro adventures last year there was one thing I was dying to do: drink water out of the tap. Because cocktails and jasmine tea and magnums of rose are all very well, but there comes a time when all you want to do is turn the tap on and have delicious, unpolluted, H2O come gushing out.

New Zealand isn't immune from the cult of the plastic water bottle, of course, but we are lucky that we can drink the good stuff straight from the tap (even though many local councils advise people to run the water for a bit first thing in the morning to flush out any trace metals that might have built up overnight, which is a bit worrying!) I'm sure this is one of the reasons why our coffee is so good - an old flatmate of mine who was a coffee roaster was meticulous about water quality and insisted on using filtered water in his espresso machine.

While we're used to taking good quality water for granted, I am really happy to be able to support a UK-based campaign run by BRITA and Delicious magazine that's hoping to find some great recipes using filtered water. That might sound a bit 'Emperor's New Clothes', but good water is an integral ingredient to so many things (not to mention the soup below). You can find out a bit more about the Better With BRITA competition here - don't forget to check out the current entries to see who you're up against. The three winners will be taken on a VIP trip to The Big Feastival in London and get the chance to sell their wares (and show off in general).

If you'd like to improve your drinking water quality, BRITA have given me one of their exceptionally pretty Marella Water Jugs (RRP £33) to give away to a lucky reader. You can enter via the Rafflecopter wotsit below. Unfortunately this giveaway - like the Better with BRITA competition - is only open to UK residents, but I have a consolation prize for everyone else - the secret to making 'just add water' soup.

Just Add Water Soup
In the colder months we follow the happy ritual of having a roast chicken on Sunday nights, not least because it means we have two cheering lunchboxes of leftovers to brighten Mondays. I used to feel guilty about throwing away the carcass instead of making stock, until I twigged that I could shortcut the process and make hands-free chicken soup instead. Here's how...

1 x chicken carcass (or as many as you may have!)
2-4 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced
2 onions or leeks, peeled or washed, as appropriate, finely sliced
2 carrots, peeled and diced
1/4 bunch celery, including leaves, roughly chopped
fresh herbs - parsley, thyme, sage
2 potatoes, peeled and diced
water
salt and pepper
olive oil
extras: tinned beans/chickpeas, drained and rinsed; quinoa or buckwheat; more herbs

Start by putting the chicken carcass in a large pot. Tuck in the vegetables around it and barely with pure, filtered tap water. Cover, set over medium heat and bring to a gentle simmer. Let bubble away for 15-20 minutes, until the vegetables are tender. Remove from heat and extract the chicken bones and any bits of skin or fat. The meat should fall from the bones (and there will be a surprising amount of it). Return to the heat and add in any of the extras. If adding grains, add them to the pot and bring the soup to the boil. Simmer for 10 minutes, or until tender. Taste for seasoning - it will need a good amount of salt. Serve with crusty bread and a drizzle of olive oil. Makes 4-6 servings.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Given the frugal nature of this simple soup I think it's a fine contender for this month's Credit Crunch Munch, a blog event devoted to budget-friendly food created by - Fab Food 4 All and Fuss Free Flavours. This month it's being hosted by Gingey Bites - check out her list of frugal and delicious meals.

* This post was created with the assistance of BRITA, but all opinions (and the recipe) are my own.

Treat me: Fairtrade choc banana cake

This week two extremely important women in the world of food visited Wellington. One attracted loads of attention while she filmed an advertisement for Whittakers chocolate; the other could have walked down Lambton Quay without attracting a second glance from anyone.

I'm not saying Nigella Lawson's Wellington sojourn didn't deserve all the fuss, but it's a shame that the equally gorgeous Rose Boatemaa Mensah wasn't as feted. Rose was in town as part of Fairtrade Fortnight - as well as being a teacher she is a cocoa farmer in Ghana. Some of the beans grown by Rose and her family end up at Whittakers, where they are turned into my favourite chocolate (and the husks even end up on our garden).

I didn't get to catch up with Rose (or Nigella) this week, but to celebrate all things Fairtrade I've whipped up this utterly lovely cake. It combines the two Fairtrade things we eat most in this house - chocolate and All Good Bananas. It's even inspired by a Nigella recipe - how circular is that?

Fairtrade Chocolate Banana Cake
If you can manage not to gobble this the minute it comes out of the oven, glistening with nuggets of melting chocolate, then it keeps really well. And I'm sure your mum would love it for Mother's Day (that's this Sunday, in case you'd forgotten).

400g ripe bananas (peeled weight) - about 3 large ones
250g ground almonds
250g caster sugar
6 eggs
grated zest of two lemons
1 tsp baking powder
100g dark chocolate, roughly chopped

Heat the oven to 180C and grease and line a 23cm springform cake tin.
Put the bananas in a food processor and whiz until pureed. Add all the other ingredients, except the chocolate and whiz again until well mixed. Pour into the prepared tin and scatter the chocolate on top.
Bake for 35-45 minutes - it will be damp and sticky but a toothpick plunged in should come out cleanly. Let cool for 10 minutes in the tin, then turn out to cool on a rack.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

Good Things: April 2014

T. S Eliot was wrong. April is not the cruellest month - at least not in the southern hemisphere, where it means a slew of public holidays, Easter and settled autumn sunshine. April is all about chocolate and hot cross buns and house guests and 'is it drinks o'clock yet?'. At least, that's how it was at our place.

First, the chocolate. As well as the gorgeous gilded bunnies I made with my pal Agnes (I was allowed to do the gilding, she did everything else), the single best Easter chocolate that passed my lips was a dark chocolate bunny filled with cinnamon-infused salted caramel from my local chocolatier, Bohemien Chocolates. I ate it in about three bites, then lay on the sofa in a state of complete satisfaction.

I made two huge batches of hot cross buns - the ones pictured above are made to the Little & Friday hot cross bun recipe, though I found the recipe in the book itself to be rather counter-intuitive and fiddled with it a bit to be sure it would work. I've found this to be true of several Little & Friday recipes and I think it's more to do with editing than anything else. But it's not very helpful to first-time bakers, is it? Anyway, these were good, but pretty heavy going to eat. I made a mega-batch of the Dan Lepard spiced stout buns the next day and they were much better. A little fiddlier to make, sure, but with better flavours and a much lighter texture.

As for the houseguests - they were of the very best kind. They performed magic tricks, provided high quality childcare, filled the fridge with exciting foodstuffs and good wine and cooked lovely dinners. The house hasn't been quite the same since.

Instead, I've been cheering myself up with this - quite possibly the BEST peanut butter I've ever tasted. I didn't think anything could top Pic's Peanut Butter (the one with a poem written inside the label, if you can ever soak it off in one piece), but Fix and Fogg Peanut Butter is incredible. The super crunchy is so crunchy you need to spread it in a thick, chunky layer. Essentially, it's peanut butter made for eating out of the jar. I am addicted. If this keeps up the only thing keeping me from the debtor's prison will be that I'll be too wide to fit through the doors...

What helped you get through April?

Treat me: Blueberry Orange Delicious

There are only two things happening in New Zealand this week. One, the royals are here (no, not the Royals immortalised by Lorde, the other ones). Two, it is raining. Incessantly. Torrentially. Mistily. Irritatingly. We are all trapped indoors, with nothing to do but assess Kate's hair and worry about whether Prince George's carseat is installed correctly. And think about what to have for pudding.

Blueberry Orange Delicious
This is the sort of pudding your Nana probably used to make, given a bit of a makeover. It’s all about the textural contrast - soft sponge on top, silky custard underneath. You can make them ahead of dinner - they're fine to eat slightly warm.

1 cup frozen blueberries
50g very soft butter
½ cup caster sugar
Finely grated rind of 2 oranges, plus the juice of one of them
1 tsp orange blossom water (or vanilla extract)
3 Tbsp ground almonds
2 eggs, separated
200ml milk

Heat the oven to 170C. Grease four ramekins (about 200ml capacity) or cups and set them in a deep roasting dish.
Divide the blueberries between the ramekins.
Beat the butter and sugar together - it will be tricky, but persevere - then add the orange zest and orange blossom water or vanilla and mix well. Stir in the flour.
Add the egg yolks and milk and beat again to form a smooth batter.
In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites to stiff peaks, then gently fold them into the batter. Carefully pour the mixture over the blueberries.
Fill the roasting dish with hot water - it needs to come halfway up the sides of the ramekins - and put it in the oven.
Bake for 20 minutes, until the sponge is risen and golden. Serve warm or hot (though they are pretty good cold the next day too).

Have a great weekend, everyone x

Spicy seedy spuds

Regular readers of this blog will know that we eat a lot of potatoes in this house. I have gone from being someone with a mortal fear of the humble spud (boarding school, need I say more?) to someone who heaves sacks of them into the trolley with abandon. Thanks to the previous owners of this house, we even have some growing in the garden.

But that doesn't mean I don't get bored with them. You could say we have a troubled relationship, but I am trying to do my bit. That's how this delectable recipe came into being...

Spicy seedy spuds
This recipe was born purely out of chance - I was thinking about something my mum used to do with potatoes and sesame seeds, but pulled out the jar of fennel seeds instead. One thing led to another and before long we had this tray of crunchy and aromatic spuds to eat with some grilled fish and salad. I can't recommend them highly enough.

800g roasting potatoes (eg Agria, King Edward, Maris Piper)
60g butter or ghee
1 Tbsp cumin seeds
1 Tbsp fennel seeds
1 Tbsp coriander seeds
1 heaped tsp turmeric
1/2 tsp chilli flakes, optional
a good pinch of flaky sea salt

Heat the oven to 200C and line a baking tray with baking paper or foil (or both, if you are the sort of cheating cook who hates washing up of any kind).
Scrub the potatoes and cut into 2cm dice. Tip them into a large bowl.
If you have the time, the inclination and the equipment, bash the seeds in a mortar and pestle to crush them slightly.
Melt the butter in a small pot, then add the seeds, spices and salt. Let cook for a minute or two, then pour this mixture over the potatoes. Stir well, until they are completely coated.
Tip out onto the prepared tray, sprinkle with a little salt and pepper and bake for 30 minutes, giving the tray a shake halfway through. Serves four.

What's your favourite new way with potatoes?

The best stuffed mushrooms, ever

One of my favourite childhood memories is of picking mushrooms with my father. It’s funny, because I detested mushrooms, but I loved picking them. There was something special about it; something almost magical. Maybe I’d read too many fairy tales or maybe it was the novelty of doing something with Dad, but I loved those little jaunts. We’d collect as many mushrooms as we could - once we picked such a lot we took off our woolly hats and turned them into mushroom carriers too - before returning home across the farm with the spoils. As long as I didn’t have to eat them, I was blissfully happy.

The Best Stuffed Mushrooms, Ever
The giant Portobello mushroom is the fillet steak of fungi. Slather one with this rich, olive and caper butter and you’ll convert the most ardent mushroom hater. Trust me, I used to be one. If you’re picking your own mushrooms, remember to leave the toadstools or the fairies will have nowhere to hold their meetings.

4 large Portobello mushrooms
1 cup kalamata olives, stoned
100g soft butter
2 cloves garlic
1 Tbsp capers
½ - 1 tsp dried chilli flakes
Grated rind of 1 lemon
A handful of fresh parsley, finely chopped
3 slices of stale rustic bread

Heat the oven to 210C. Line an oven tray with baking paper and put the mushrooms on top, flat side down.
Put the olives, butter, garlic, capers, chilli flakes and lemon zest in a food processor and whiz until it forms a smooth mixture. If you don’t have a processor you can use a stick blender or a mortar and pestle. If you don‘t have any of these things, just chop the olives and garlic finely, then mash everything together with a fork.
Divide this mixture between the mushrooms. Put the stale bread in the processor or blender (no need to wash it first) and whiz to form crumbs. Scatter these over the mushrooms.
Put the mushrooms in the oven and bake for 15-20 minutes, until the breadcrumbs are golden. Scatter the finely chopped parsley over the top, then serve with a crunchy green salad and some good bread. Serves four.

Miso and lemon mousetraps

Do you remember mousetraps from when you were a kid? I couldn't wait to make them when the Small Girl was smaller, mainly so I could eat them myself. There's something about salty, savoury Marmite that goes so well with slightly scorched bread and cheese. But I've found something that goes even better - a mega-umami hit of miso. I know it sounds unlikely, but one bite and you'll be hooked. The only thing that makes it better is a squeeze of fresh lemon juice on top. Trust me, it's a winner.

Miso and lemon mousetraps
The beauty of these mouth-watering morsels is that you can make a whole trayful to serve with drinks when  you are unexpectedly pressed into hostess service, or you can make a whole trayful and call it dinner on those nights when all you want to do is collapse on the sofa. You can use any kind of bread you like - baguette, a coarse-textured country loaf or even a cheeky gluten-free number, but nothing too wholegrain-y. Keep the slices about 1/2 a cm thick for best results and only toast one side so you get the soft/crunchy texture thing happening. I've kept quantities vague, but keep to the suggested ratio of miso to butter. Don't forget the lemon, either. Any leftover miso-butter mixture can be kept in a covered container in the fridge.

sliced bread, as above
1/2 cup white miso
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
50-100g tasty cheddar cheese, finely grated
1 juicy lemon

Preheat the grill and line a baking tray with foil or baking paper. Lie the slices of bread on top, then put under the grill until golden. Don't do what I do and wander off, unless you have an unlimited supply of bread to replace the charcoal that those forgotten slices will become. Take the tray out of the oven and turn the slices over, so the toasted side is facing down.
Put the miso and butter in a small bowl and mix until well combined. Generously spread the non-toasted side of the bread with this mixture, then scatter some grated cheese on top. Return the tray to the grill and toast until the cheese is crispy and the edges of the bread are darkening.
Let cool briefly before serving with a squeeze of lemon on top.  These are best eaten the day they are made.

Halloumi, peach and pepper salad

Late last year I got my arm twisted into a podcast interview with the lovely Natalie Cutler-Welsh from If Only They Had Told Me. Now, this is nothing against Natalie, but it was probably a mistake to do it after a very long, stressful day at work. It was probably even more of a mistake to do it while reclining with a glass of wine. I'm hoping that's the reason why I sound like a garbled fool who can barely remember her own name. If I sound like that all the time, well, I guess I have a voice best suited for print.

But every cloud has a silver lining and one of the best bits about recording the podcast was that Natalie, a non-cook, told me about a salad her friend had made that night involving halloumi and peaches. I can't bear to go back and listen to the podcast, but I've managed to make my version of the salad. Without a hint of shame, here it is.

Halloumi, peach and pepper salad

We always have a packet of halloumi in the fridge. It's a guaranteed insta-meal for those times when there seems to be nothing else to eat. Peaches and red peppers are both in plentiful supply at the moment - and this salad is the perfect combination of sweet, salty, soft and crunchy. 

250g halloumi, patted dry and sliced into 1cm-thick pieces

2 ripe peaches, washed and sliced into wedges

2 red peppers, washed, deseeded and sliced

a handful of fresh mint, shredded

a good squeeze of fresh lemon juice

2-3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Panfry the halloumi in a non-stick pan until golden brown on the outside. Remove from the pan and slice each piece into two, lengthways. Let cool briefly.

Put the peaches and peppers in a bowl, then toss through the mint, lemon juice and olive oil. Drape the halloumi on top. Grind over some black pepper and serve. Makes a small side salad for four or a light lunch for two.

Beetroot, caraway, fennel and feta

I've just been looking through my photo files and realised there are a lot of beetroot recipes in my blog. I hope I'm not boring you. If you don't like beetroot, look away now. But if you do - and you recognise the allure of finding lovely fresh beetroots with leaves attached at the market, plus the fact that with a couple of beetroots in the fridge you can make a perfectly good salad when it seems there's nothing to eat - then read on.

Beetroot, caraway, fennel and feta salad

If it wasn't for the shirt-staining potential of this vibrant number it would make the perfect al-desko lunch. It's got crunch, fresh flavours and nuggets of salty, creamy feta.

500g fresh beetroot (two medium beetroots)

100g feta, diced

1 Tbsp caraway seeds, lightly toasted

1 Tbsp fennel seeds, lightly toasted

1/2 cup baby gherkins, sliced

juice of 1 orange and juice of 1 lemon

2-3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil or avocado oil

Shred the beetroot (doing it in a food processor is SO much easier than struggling with a grater) and put in a bowl with the gherkins and half the seeds. Shake the orange juice and oil together, taste and add a little lemon juice for sharpness. Toss through the beetroot. Just before serving, top the salad with the feta and sprinkle over the remaining seeds. Drizzle with a little more oil and serve. Makes enough for two as a lunch salad or more as a side.

What's your favourite thing to do with beetroot?

Apple crumble smoothies

A few months ago I was complaining to a friend that the rambling nature of our garden meant that if you suddenly realised you needed herbs or greens while cooking, you needed to go out the back door, down the path, around the corner, down the steps, onto a deck, down some more steps, down a vertiginous path, past marauding hedgehogs, to the vegetable patch. Then come all the way up again (if indeed you'd remembered what you'd gone down there for - I tend to go down, pull a few weeds out, sigh heavily and start back up the track). She looked at me wryly and said, 'but Lucy, it's a lot closer than going to the shops'.

I realised then that perspective has a lot to do with things. Take, for example, the hassle involved in making smoothies at home - or at least the hassle in washing the assorted bits of the blender or food processor afterwards. Once I realised that washing the bowl, the lid, the blade and the pusher-down thing wasn't going to kill me, we started having smoothies for breakfast a lot. After all, it's much faster than going to the shops.

Apple crumble smoothies
If you live in New Zealand or England you are probably familiar with The Collective Dairy Co.'s apple crumble yoghurt, which somehow magically transports all those comforting apple-y, cinnamon-y flavours into  yoghurt. These smoothies do the same thing - without having to go and buy the yoghurt. Realising I could freeze sliced bananas has changed my life - not only are they great snacks but they are perfect for smoothies.
If you don't have any stewed apple lying around, try a couple of very juicy, ripe pears or even (gasp!) a tin of  unsweetened apple sauce.

1 frozen banana, sliced
1 cup (about two apples' worth) of cooked apple
1 Tbsp date syrup
2 Tbsp ground almonds, optional
1/2 tsp cinnamon
250-300ml milk
sprinkle of toasted muesli, to serve

Put the banana, apple, date syrup, almonds and cinnamon in a food processor or blender and whiz until pureed. Keep the motor running and pour in the milk until it's the right thickness. Pour into glasses and sprinkle some toasted muesli on top. Serves two to three.

Have a great week, everyone!