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?

What's in your kids' lunchboxes?

Less than two weeks in and I think I've cracked why parents get weepy about their child going to school. It's not the thought of their little darling growing up, it's the realisation that it signals the start of more than a decade of making school lunches.

As much as I know I should aspire to be the kind of 'perfect mother who turns her kid's lunchboxes into art', it's not going to happen. Especially because I am determined that lunchbox duty is a job to be shared by other members of this household who are old enough to handle a knife and go to the shops unaccompanied.

Here we have peanut butter, cream cheese and broccoli sprouts in a flatbread, some carrot sticks, a little parcel of Brazil nuts, a homemade chocolate muffin that's much more nutritious than it looks (recipe coming soon!) and an apple.

But, crumbs, it's hard to get my head around. I remember from my own childhood that all I wanted for a long period was luncheon sausage and tomato sauce in my sandwiches (the tomato sauce was Mum's homemade one, in my defence). I recall my mother inserting all manner of 'interesting' things in my lunchbox: a pork pie (unsuccessful), nut-flavoured yoghurt (a disappointment) and - very occasionally, those triangles of plastic cheese (then, my idea of heaven). Nearly 35 years later, I still remember the shame at finding two used teabags in my teal-coloured lunchbox. My little friends Bernie and Jean-Anne ran to the staffroom for help - where the kind Mrs Wilson pointed out that, in fact, they were dried figs. Such things were rare at Atiamuri Primary, where other kids got little packets of crisps and shop-bought biscuits, or sandwiches wrapped up in the blue and white paper that the Sunday bread came in. Some even went home for lunch, returning with slabs of freshly baked Maori bread slathered with butter. There were probably others who had little for lunch and even less for breakfast.

Of course, that's a far cry from what kids eat today - at least, if you believe everything you read. Pinterest is full of weird charts, which seem mostly designed for dieting adults ('this snack is only 100 calories' etc) and I feel thoroughly depressed at my culinary and parenting skills whenever I read Amanda Hesser's Food 52 blog on what she puts in her twins' school lunches.

Obviously I spend more time worrying about the contents of their lunches than I do about the weeds in my garden...

So I'm very grateful for Nicola Galloway's advice on healthy school lunches, which is just about the most useful thing I've come across in the last couple of weeks is (and there's a great cracker recipe in the post too). The basic message is not rocket science - kids need a balance of 'good' carbohydrates, protein and fibre to keep them sustained and alert, just like adults do.

I'm not sure what the magic ingredient is that makes them actually eat all their lunch at lunchtime ("I didn't eat it Mum, I was too busy") but it is getting eaten (and then some) for afternoon tea so I must be doing something right.

So tell me, please, what do you put in your kids' lunchboxes? There are only so many more peanut butter and sprout sandwiches I can make this week...

UPDATE: I've just created this Easy Tasty Lunchbox Ideas Pinterest board to collate some ideas. Check it out - and let me know if you'd like to contribute!

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: Anzac Bread

Have you ever heard the expression, 'an army marches on its stomach'? Whoever was in charge of provisioning the Antipodean soldiers in World War One certainly hadn't. Researchers now believe poor diet was one of the contributing factors to the doomed Gallipoli campaign due to be commemorated in Australia and New Zealand tomorrow.

Not only were the hapless Anzacs on a hiding to nothing in terms of their strategic position and lack of equipment, they were given the most basic of rations and suffered greatly as a result. Like the song says, war - what is it good for?

I'm not sure that modern Anzac biscuits are that nutritionally sound either, but they surely rate highly in terms of improving - even in the short-term - one's psychological state, especially when consumed with a good cup of tea. Ending (or even starting) the day with a bowl of Anzac Biscuit Ice cream offers a similar emotional health benefits. But if you're looking for something a little more wholesome, then this easy Anzac-inspired bread could be just the ticket.

Anzac Bread
This is bread for beginners - there's no kneading and very little hands-on effort required at all. Mix the dough before you go to the dawn service and it will just about be ready to stick in the oven when you get back.

350g strong or high grade flour
1 1/2 tsp salt
50g rolled oats
50g desiccated coconut
1 tsp dried yeast
20g butter, cold
1 Tbsp golden syrup
325ml warm water

Put the flour, oats, coconut and yeast into a large bowl. Grate in the butter and then stir vigorously to mix it in.
Add the golden syrup to the water and pour into the bowl. Mix well until a wet, sticky dough forms.
Cover with a damp tea towel or plastic bag and leave in a warm place for three to four hours, until the dough has risen and nearly doubled in size.
Turn the oven to 210C. Grease a standard loaf tin (about 21 x11 cm) and line with baking paper.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and deflate it by pressing with your fingers until it forms a rectangular shape that's slightly narrower than the length of the loaf tin. With the short side closest to you, carefully fold the bottom third of the dough into the middle, then over again. You should have a loaf shape sitting in front of you. Carefully transfer this to the prepared loaf tin.
Let rise for 30 minutes, until it is puffy and an indent stays when you press it with a finger. Slash the top with a sharp knife, dust with a little flour and put in the oven.
Bake for 35 minutes, until risen and golden brown. Let cool for five minutes before you turn it out of the tin. Leave it on a rack to cool completely.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

Treat me: Easy Easter Brioche

Do you dream of waking up on Good Friday to a trayful of freshly made hot cross buns? Me too. Over the years I've tried many ways of achieving this, ranging from buying them in the day before, to getting up at the crack of dawn. Neither one is particularly good - especially if you already get up at the crack of dawn and everyone in your household is ravenous at breakfast time. The first hot cross bun of the day is like the first cup of tea; you shouldn't have to wait for it.

But this way - using a clever, no-knead, no stress method - is perfect. All you do is make up a batter-like dough the night before and leave it in the fridge overnight. Then all you have to do in the morning is wait for the oven to heat up, then these lovely, light, buttery buns are ready to eat 15 minutes later. If that's not an Easter miracle, I don't know what is.

Easy Easter Brioche
If you've had hot cross bun disasters in the past or are a novice yeast baker, this is the recipe for you. There's no kneading, just a bit of energetic stirring with a wooden spoon. If you don't have a muffin tin you can make a giant loaf in a 23cm cake tin - it will take more like 25-30 minutes to cook.

200g raisins or sultanas
50g mixed peel (or finely chopped crystallised ginger, or other tangy dried fruit)
150ml milk
250g strong or high grade flour
2 Tbsp brown sugar
1 Tbsp dried yeast
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
grated zest of one orange
1/2 tsp vanilla
4 eggs, lightly beaten
140g unsalted butter, softened but NOT melted, and cut into little pieces

Put the dried fruit in a small heatproof bowl and cover with boiling water from the kettle. Leave to steep while you get everything else organised.
Put the milk in a small pan and bring to nearly simmering point, then remove from the heat and let cool to lukewarm.
Put the flour, sugar, yeast, spices and salt in a large bowl and stir well. Drain the dried fruit and set aside.
Pour in the milk, the orange zest, the vanilla, the eggs and the dried fruit. Beat well until you have a smooth batter. Set aside in a warm place until doubled - this will take about an hour.
Beat the risen batter until it deflates, then add half the butter and beat well with a wooden spoon until it is all mixed in and there are no lumps. Repeat with the remaining butter and beat until the batter is smooth.
Grease the holes of a 12-cup muffin pan with a little butter or oil, and divide the mixture between them.
Cover the tin with a plastic bag and put it in the fridge.
In the morning, turn the oven to 170C and take the tin out of the fridge. When the oven has reached temperature and the buns have lost their chill (about 35 minutes, in my house) put them in the oven and bake for 15 minutes, until risen and golden brown.
Leave them in the tin for five minutes, then gently ease out with a spatula. Makes 12.

Have a wonderful Easter, everyone x

Treat me: Chocolate pani popo

Many moons ago I went to a cooking demonstration by Ray McVinnie in which he was asked if one could substitute low-fat coconut milk in a recipe he was making. He looked up over the wok, raised an eyebrow and said, 'but why would anyone want to do that?' When the questioner murmured that 'some people' liked to watch their weight, Ray looked her in the eye and said, 'just eat less'. It was a slightly uncomfortable moment.

Anyway, I thought of that this morning while I was checking my email and eating some extremely high-fat, high-sugar chocolate pani popo. After signing up to Gwyneth Paltrow's Goop emails (it was for work, honest!) I often find myself accidentally reading her helpful tips on how to become an altogether better, thinner, more detoxed, less stressed, version of myself. These usually involve signing up to some costly therapy, buying lots of expensive trinkets or working out like a maniac as suggested by her guru Tracy Anderson.

Today, as sticky-sweet coconut caramel dripped off the fluffy chocolate-studded bun, I'd never felt less in need of Gwyneth's advice. She might think it's time for a spring break detox a la Tracy, I say it's time for more pani popo. Who's with me?

Chocolate Pani Popo
I created these buns - my own version of a Samoan classic - for the March edition of We Should Cocoa, the chocolate blogging challenge dreamed up by Choclette of Chocolate Log Blog. This month, guest host Laura of I'd Much Rather Bake Than... has chosen coconut as the special ingredient. It's also a fitting entry for the March edition of Sweet New Zealand (hosted this month by Frances of Bake Club).
Don't be put off by the lengthy instructions, these are easy to make.

For the buns:
350ml coconut milk - not the low fat sort
500g high grade flour
40g butter, cold
1 1/2 tsp dried yeast
2 Tbsp brown sugar (or coconut sugar)
1 1/2tsp salt
100g chocolate, chopped into little bits

For the sauce:
300ml coconut milk
1 cup sugar

Put the 350ml measure of coconut milk in a small pot and bring to the boil, then let cool to blood heat while you get everything else organised.
Put the flour into a large bowl and grate in the butter. Stir through briskly until the butter is mixed through (this is easier than rubbing it in).
Add the yeast, sugar and salt and mix well, then pour in the warm coconut milk and stir until it forms a soft dough. Cover the bowl and let rest for 10 minutes. Rub a little oil on the bench and tip the dough out on to it. Fold the dough in on itself, one corner at a time until you have worked around the whole piece. Cover with the upturned bowl and let sit for 10 minutes. Repeat this twice more, then return the dough to the bowl, cover it with a teatowel and let it rise until doubled (about an hour).
When the dough is risen and puffy, tip the dough out onto the bench and knock back, then roll out into a rectangle about 1cm thick.
Scatter the chopped chocolate over it, then roll up like a swiss roll. Cut into 1.5cm slices and put these into a deep baking dish (about 30 x 30 cm, or thereabouts). Cover with plastic and leave overnight in the fridge.
In the morning, take the buns out of the fridge and let them rise for about an hour, until starting to look puffy. Heat the oven to 180C.
While you're waiting, put the 300ml coconut milk in a small saucepan and add the sugar. Heat, stirring, until it just begins to bubble. Pour this mixture over the buns and put the dish into the oven.
Bake for 30 minutes, until the buns are a deep golden colour, surrounded by a sticky caramel. Let them sit for 10-15 minutes before eating to make sure they have soaked up lots of the lovely syrup.
Makes at least 16 decent-sized buns.
These are best eaten the day they are made, though you can put any leftovers in the fridge and reheat them the next day. But in my experience, leftovers are not an issue.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

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.

Five fast family dinner ideas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What do you eat on busy days?

Fried egg crumpets

About 20 years ago, when I had just moved into my first flat, my flatmate Geoff specialised in what he called 'egg windows' - a fried slice of bread with an egg in the middle of it.

Geoff's dad, an army major, had showed him how to make them when he was a kid and Geoff was a total pro. Then an architecture student, he cut the 'window' out of the bread with exacting precision, and he had the timing down pat. Alas, that was probably the apex of his cooking skills. His other memorable culinary moment was the time he came home drunk, put a tray of oven chips on to cook and fell asleep on the sofa. We were saved by the neighbours calling the fire brigade, but the chips were not so lucky.

I'd forgotten all about Geoff, egg windows and the fire until I saw Maya Adam show how to make what she called 'Egg in a hole' as part of the Child Nutrition MOOC run by Stanford University. Here was the egg window, transformed into a fast, nutritious breakfast for a child. It was genius. But even more genius is my fried egg crumpet - a fast, nutritious(ish) and utterly delicious anytime meal for everyone. Here's how to do it.

Fried egg crumpets
One of these might do for breakfast, but I think you need two for lunch. The holey nature of the crumpet means it soaks up a) butter and b) egg, so there are lots of textural contrasts - soft, silky egg and crunchy crumpet edges. Add something green on the side and you might even be able to call it dinner.

You need:
An equal number of crumpets and eggs - let's say two per person
A good knob of butter and a splash of olive oil to stop the butter from burning
A heavy frying pan with a lid
A round cookie cutter or small glass (about five cm in diameter)
Salt and pepper
Sriracha sauce or some other spicy condiment
Grated Parmesan, optional

Cut the middle out of the crumpets with the cookie cutter or glass. You can eat the middle bit as a cook's perk now, or toast it to eat later, or (sacrilege!) throw it away.
Melt the butter and oil in the heavy frying pan over medium-high heat. Put the crumpets in, holey side down, and cook for a couple of minutes, until golden. Flip over and let the smooth side cook for a minute.
Carefully crack an egg into the hole of each crumpet. Don't worry if some spills over the sides, this is no big deal. Put a lid on the pan and cook, covered, for about three minutes, until the egg white is set and the outer edges are getting nice and crunchy. Carefully flip over to cook the other side until it is just set to ensure a runny yolk (obviously cook it for longer if you prefer egg yolks to be firm).
Transfer to a plate and sprinkle with salt, pepper and grated cheese, if using. Dollop on the spicy sauce and enjoy!


 

Treat me: DIY Cronuts

Do excuse my absence but I've had a big week. I'll spare you the details, but it has involved a lot of late nights, early mornings and much busy-ness in between. Because I like making things hard for myself, I decided it was also a good time to conduct a little cronut experiment.

This isn't as mad as it sounds, you know. Have you read those studies that link poor sleep to the blue light emitted from iPads and other screens? Nigella Lawson once told a reporter she wore special glasses in bed while reading on her iPad (Charles got upset if she kept the light on to read a normal book - and history has shown the consequences of upsetting him). I think a little late-night kitchen activity is far more soothing - though I probably looked a bit deranged, making creme patissiere at midnight on a Monday night while listening to a documentary about Dr Zhivago.

Anyway - cronuts. Everyone knows about the croissant-doughnut hybrid by now, attributed to pastry chef Dominique Ansel. Here's a primer if you've been busy doing other things. My relentless, selfless quest to perfect Little & Friday's famous doughnuts has made me quite confident in the arts of deep-frying, so I figured cronuts couldn't be that much harder. And you know what? I was right.

Lucy's Five Tips For Making Cronuts At Home
Have faith. All you are doing is making some dough in the food processor, letting it rest, rolling it out and then cutting shapes that you will then deep-fry before squirting full of creme patissiere (thickened custard). I wouldn't advise doing the deep-frying bit with small children or pets underfoot, but the rest is not hard. Really.

1. Use Edd Kimber's 20-minute croissant dough recipe. It's really, really easy - the initial stage (making the dough in a food processor) takes about 10 minutes. The dough chills in the fridge for a few hours, then you roll it out and fold it a few times before resting it overnight. I actually rested it for 36 hours and there was no harm done.

2. The night before you want to serve the cronuts, make the creme patissiere. Beat three eggs yolks, 1/4 cup caster sugar and just under 1/4 cup cornflour until pale and thick. Bring 500ml of full cream milk, 1/4 cup caster sugar and a teaspoon of vanilla paste in a saucepan to the boil, then remove from the heat. Pour half of the hot milk onto the egg mixture, whisking frantically. Put the saucepan (with the rest of the milk in it) back on the heat, then when it starts to bubble, pour in the egg mixture. Keep stirring and removed it from the heat as soon as it starts to bubble and plop like a mud pool. Pour it into a clean bowl, press some clingfilm onto the surface. Let cool, then refrigerate.

3. In the morning, take the rested croissant dough out of the fridge. Let it adjust to room temperature for 10 minutes or so, then roll out to 1cm thick on a lightly floured surface. Cut shapes - I used a 5cm fluted cutter, but you can make them any size you like. The offcuts can be deepfried too and they are a handy pick-me-up for the cronut maker who has had five hours' sleep. Let the incipient cronuts prove for 20-30 minutes until they have doubled in thickness.

4. Deep frying 101: Use a deep saucepan, a neutral oil with a high smoke point, and be careful. If you don't have a thermometer, use the wooden spoon handle trick: dip the handle of a wooden spoon in the oil - if it bubbles up immediately, it's hot enough. Fry the cronuts in batches - about four a time is enough - for about two minutes a side. Remove them from the saucepan with a slotted spoon and let drain on some kitchen paper.

5. When you've finished frying and the cronuts are cool, take the pastry cream out of the fridge. Beat well, then squirt it into the cronuts (use the pointy nozzle attached to a disposable piping bag). Some cronuts are then rolled in caster sugar and glace icing, but I think a light dusting of icing sugar is more than enough. The light, lovely layers of the dough are the star here, why burden them with more sugar?

Have you made cronuts? Do you have any further tips?

Have a great weekend, everyone. I'm off to Dunedin for the Guild of Food Writers Conference. Hurrah!

Salted and spiced bread ribbons

Remember what I said about not judging a cookbook by its cover? About two days later I went to the library and had my head turned by a very pretty collection of Elizabeth David recipes. Oops.

This lovely book, put together by her literary trustee and former editor Jill Norman, mixes the genius of Mrs David with some great photos. It's not as readable in bed as the little paperbacks, but it's very inspiring. I happened across this bread recipe, which I'd never seen before, and whipped it up the other night.

Salted and spiced bread ribbons
If you're not schooled in the way Mrs David wrote her recipes can seem a bit inpenetrable, so I've rewritten it in a more modern style. This is very easy, comparatively quick to make and impresses non-breadmakers no end.

500g bread flour
2 tsp dried yeast
2 tsp salt
450ml milk, plus another tablespoon or so
3 Tbsp butter
3 Tbsp whole cumin, caraway or fennel seeds (or a mixture of all of them), plus a few extra tablespoons for sprinkling
flaky salt

Put the milk and butter in a small saucepan and heat until blood heat.
Put the flour, yeast and salt into a large bowl and mix well, then pour in the milk and butter. Mix to form a soft dough, then cover the bowl and leave in a warm place until the dough has doubled - about an hour.
Heat the oven to 200C.
Tip the dough onto a floured surface and knock down, then knead in the 3 Tbsp seeds. Divide the dough into two and put on a large piece of baking paper. Roll each portion of dough into a rough rectangle, about 2cm thick, then slice through vertically, creating long strips about 2cm wide. Transfer the strips (using the baking paper) to two baking trays. Brush with milk, then sprinkle with the reserved seeds and some flaky salt. Set aside to rise again for about 15 minutes, then bake for 20 minutes, until golden brown.
Best eaten while still warm.

Treat me: Choc beet banana bread

I have a terrible confession to make. Somehow, against my better judgment, I have become completely addicted to The Block NZ. Three nights a week I find myself glued to an hour of hideous product placement and manipulated 'drama' as four couples 'race' to do up four dilapidated houses aided by teams of trusty tradies. I despise myself, but I can't stop watching.

The other night I tried to mix watching it with making some chocolate beetroot banana bread for our neighbours after they kindly lent us their car park. It was all going well until I pulled it out of the oven and realised I'd made a brick that was better suited to hard landscaping than eating. The Block-ers might have forgotten to install their bathroom mirrors, but I'd forgotten the baking powder. And the baking soda. I have vowed never to watch The Block again. Well, at least not until next week...

Chocolate beetroot banana bread
This month the clever Ness of JibberJabberUK is guest hosting my favourite blog challenge, We Should Cocoa. Aided and abetted by challenge founder Choclette, Ness has chosen vegetables as this month's special guest ingredient. I know beetroot is a bit of an obvious one, but it's a good addition to this chocolatey banana loaf. As is baking powder. And soda. You have been warned!

3 ripe bananas, mashed
3 eggs
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup oil
1/2 cup milk
1 Tbsp vanilla essence
2 Tbsp lemon juice
120g grated beetroot
2 cups white spelt flour
1/2 cup good quality cocoa
1 Tbsp cinnamon
1 Tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
50g dark chocolate, smashed into little bits

Preheat the oven to 175C. Grease and line a large loaf tin.
Put the bananas, eggs, sugar, oil, milk, vanilla and lemon juice in the bowl of a food processor. Whiz until smooth.
Add the beetroot and pulse until the mixture is uniformly pink. Sift over the flour, cocoa, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add the chocolate. Pulse again until smooth.
Pour the mixture into the prepared tin and bake for 35-40 minutes, until a skewer comes out clean. Remove from the oven and cool in the tin for a few minutes, then turn out on to a wire rack to cool completely.

In other news, The Kitchenmaid has been nominated in the Best Kids Food Blog section of the 2013 Munch Food Awards. I feel a bit of a dork asking, but if you'd like to vote for me, you can do so by clicking here.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Green peppercorn sauce for cheats

I pulled a packet of frozen peas out of the freezer yesterday and something heavy shot out from underneath them and landed on my foot. I uttered a string of epithets not suitable for a family-friendly food blog and bent down to pick it up. Was it a brick? Was it a small frozen animal? Was it that packet of wonton wrappers that I've been planning to use for ages? In fact, it turned out to be three small pieces of fillet steak. Hurrah! I nearly lost a toe, but I gained an excellent dinner. It seemed like a fair trade to me.

Green peppercorn sauce - the cheat's version
When I told my beloved we were having steak for dinner he looked like I'd dropped the frozen meat on his foot. He perked up a bit when I told him it was fillet, then he perked up even more when I told him I'd make his favourite green peppercorn sauce. But somewhere between making the offer and dinnertime I got sideswiped by such fatigue that I couldn't face all that faffing about with reductions and whatnot. Instead, I made this in all of five minutes and it was so good I don't think I'll ever go back to the other one. If you're not a carnivore, rest assured this is equally good on baked potatoes or bread.

100g unsalted butter, softened
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
a good pinch of salt
4 tsp green peppercorns in brine

If you have a mortar and pestle, now's the time to use it. If you don't have a mortar and pestle (or you do and you just don't have the energy), this is easy enough to do by hand. Put the garlic and salt in the mortar and pound away until it forms a smooth paste. Add the peppercorns and smash them a bit, then add the butter and mush it around a bit. Scrape it on to a piece of waxed paper and roll into a cylinder. Stick it in the fridge to firm up - for at least 15 minutes. When your steak or potatoes or toast is ready, slice the butter into discs and put on top. Buttery, peppercorny heaven awaits. If you don't have a mortar and pestle (or you do and you just don't have the energy), this is easy enough to do by hand.

What's your favourite sort of butter?

A date with a German breakfast

Do you want to get a little fatter? Move to Germany. Seriously. I've never known a country for super-sized meals, at least one that's not America. Last month I sat in a cafe in Koln and watched as a huge platter of spaghetti was served to a woman sitting with her partner and three children. 'How nice,' I thought to myself, 'what a convivial way to eat'. Then I realised the pasta platter was just for her - the dad got a steak as big as a placemat and the kids gobbled a pizza each.

We are a reasonably greedy trio but we quickly learned that we needn't order very much while eating out. Since my German is limited, to say the least, this certainly made things easy on the language front. But my it also meant that I had no hope of asking about the little dish of cream cheese and something that came with the enormous 'Bio Breakfast' at a cafe in Berlin, pictured above. (Not pictured: the accompanying basket of bread and tumbling pile of walnuts that were taken by a small hand.) I took this photo to help jog my taste memory when we got home and now, a month later, I think I've got it.

Spiced cream cheese and date spread
I am such a glutton when it comes to cream cheese I could eat this neat, but it's also good on all manner of baked goods, from simple toast to slices of fruit loaf. Or you could use it as a dip for green apples, if you are an alternative eater (Catherine, are you reading this?). It's not quite the same, eating it in my kitchen as it was sitting on a cafe terrace in Prenzlauer Berg, but it's not a bad substitute.

125g good, full-fat cream cheese, at room temperature
1 Tbsp honey
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp ground cardamom
100g dates, roughly chopped

To make this the lazy way, put all ingredients in a food processor and pulse until it is a chunky mixture. To make by hand, chop the dates finely (scissors is easiest) and stir into the cream cheese, along with the spices and honey. Store, covered, in the fridge, for a week.

Have a good week, everyone.

No-knead spelt bread

A mystery visitor changed my life last Friday. I went out for a few hours and returned home to find crumbs all over the kitchen floor and a tea towel draped artistically over the stovetop. Now, neither of these things are that unusual - our floors are usually so covered in crumbs it looks like Hansel and Gretel have been passing through and tea towels are often appropriated by a pair of small hands to make doll beds or princess dresses. But the strange formation of these crumbs, and the teatowel's odd positioning, spoke of something else. All at once it dawned on me - the oven man had come! I jumped up and down on the spot beside the oven, both in utter joy and to test whether or not the door was going to fall open. It didn't budge. I pulled on the door handle and it reluctantly opened, eager to spring back into position. I was so excited I took a video of myself opening the oven door and sent it to my beloved. "This is one of the nicest things you've ever done for me," I wrote.

You may think this indicates that a) I need to get out more and b) that my relationship is in serious trouble, but if you'd spent the last 18 months grappling with an oven that didn't close properly, you'd be excited too. I've spent all weekend marvelling at how easy it is to cook things when the oven door doesn't fall open at whim and how quickly the oven heats up now that half the heat isn't escaping. One of the first things I made was a spelt version of my ye olde DIY Vogels bread. Here's how I did it.

No-knead spelt bread
I'm on a bit of a spelt kick at the moment, not least because I can buy organic spelt flour from a great shop just minutes away - but most supermarkets stock it now too. If you can boil a kettle and stir (not simultaneously), then you can make this bread. I use my own toasted muesli - like this one or this one - when making this but any decent bought one will suffice. If you leave it out, consider throwing in some seeds instead.

300g white spelt flour
300g wholemeal spelt flour
120g toasted muesli
2 tsp dried yeast
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 Tbsp honey
300ml milk
350ml boiling water

Put everything into a large bowl and mix well - it will be like porridge. Scrape into a very-well oiled and lined large loaf tin (internal measurements roughly 20cm x 10cm x 8cm).
Put into a cold oven and turn the dial to 50C. Leave for about 25 minutes, until the dough has risen to the top of the tin. Turn the heat to 200C and bake for another 40 minutes, until crusty on top and hollow when you tap it on the bottom.
Turn out to a rack to cool. This makes excellent toast, or you can cut it into canape-sized bits and have it with cream cheese and pickled ginger or smoked salmon.

What was the best thing that happened to your kitchen last week?

Post-modern Annadama bread

Have you ever heard the story of Annadamma bread? I hadn't until recently - and like most fables, it's a grim tale (though not one of Grimm's tales, if you know what I mean).
The story goes that it was invented by a hard-working farmer/fisherman/hunter in New England, who had married a hopeless cook. All hapless Anna could make was cornmeal mush (in my house that's breakfast, but perhaps tastes have changed).
Anyway, one night, when the hero (?) of the piece got home from a long day's farmin' and fishin' and huntin', he was so enraged by finding another bowl of this waiting for him that he threw in some molasses and flour, muttering 'Anna, damn her, 'Anna damn her' and put the resulting mixture in the oven.
Of course, it was a resounding success, and the moral of the story is, if you want something done right, do it yourself. Or something like that. I shudder to think what became of poor Anna.

Post-modern Annadamma bread
This is a very adapted and updated version of a recipe from my prized Time-Life Breads book. which is great on inspiration and history, but some of the recipes are just a bit weird. The original features four times as much molasses, which would render it too liquorice-ish (don't say that too quickly) for my taste and the instructions seemed very long-winded and impractical. This is a post-modern version, in which no one mutters obscenities about the cook and the bread turns out perfectly. See, dreams do come true...

60g fine cornmeal/polenta
650ml water
3 Tbsp blackstrap molasses
3 Tbsp golden syrup
2 Tbsp butter
1 1/4 tsp salt
600g strong white flour
1 Tbsp dried yeast
a little extra polenta for dusting

Put the polenta in a small saucepan and gradually add 500ml of the water, stirring all the time. Set it over medium heat and bring to the boil, stirring often, until it is very thick (about 5-10 minutes). Remove from heat and add the molasses, golden syrup, salt and butter. Beat well and set aside to cool briefly.
Put the flour and yeast in a large bowl and stir well. When the polenta mixture is lukewarm, beat this, plus the remaining 150ml of water, into the flour until a soft, sticky dough forms. Cover the bowl with a cloth and let rest for 10 minutes, then turn the dough out onto an oiled worksurface.
Pick up one side of the dough, stretch it up, then bring it down again on top of itself. Repeat from the opposite corner. Do this from each opposing corner, then scrape the dough from your hands and walk away. Leave the dough to rest for 10 minutes, then come back and repeat the pick up and stretch process again. Then leave it again for 10 minutes. Do this process once more, then scoop the dough into a well-oiled large bowl. Cover with a cloth and leave in a warm place for about 45 minutes, until nearly doubled.
Heat the oven to 200C. Tip the dough out onto the bench and knock back gently, pressing it out into a rectangle. Gather up into a round ball, tucking the ends underneath and leave on a polenta-sprinkled, baking paper-lined tray for 25-35 minutes - if you poke it gently with your finger and the indentation stays hollow, it's ready to go in the oven. Slash the top of the loaf - a cross-hatch pattern will get you the checkerboard crust in the photo above and sprinkle with a bit of polenta - then bake for about 40 minutes, or until the bottom sounds hollow when you tap it. Slide onto a rack to cool completely before slicing.

Elizabeth David's potato bread

"Any human being possessed of sufficient gumption to track down a source of fresh yeast - it isn't all that rare - and collected enough to remember to buy at the same time a pound or two of plain flour, get it home, taking a mixing bowl and a measuring jug from the cupboard, and read a few simple instructions can make a decent loaf of bread."

So wrote Elizabeth David in Queen magazine in 1968, railing against the dearth of 'decent bread' then available for sale in England. For the most part, I agree with her about breadmaking being simple and enjoyable - which was why I was so disappointed when her Potato Bread didn't turn out so well.

Elizabeth David's potato bread

Bread is the theme for this month's Random Recipes challenge and after a few off-piste experiments of my own lately (honestly, beetroot bread IS really good), I was thrilled to land on 'At Elizabeth David's Table' when randomly selecting the recipe. This is a really beautiful book, compiled by Jill Norman (David's long-time editor), a kind of Technicolour dreamcoat version of the original humble paperbacks.

However, I think the recipe for potato bread needs a little tweaking because it's almost inedibly salty. (I'm sorry, Mrs David, but it is!) Being an obedient follower of both Elizabeth David and Dom of Belleau Kitchen, I stuck to the recipe very faithfully, but next time I'd halve the salt.


I won't try to ape Elizabeth David's inimitable recipe-writing style here, but here are the basics. She uses "a minimum of 20g salt" - I suggest 2 tsp is ample. Saltiness aside, it's lovely bread.

125g mashed potato (about 1 medium potato), warm and dry
500g strong white flour
1 1/2 tsp dried yeast
20g salt
150ml warm water (use the potato cooking water, if you remember)
150ml warm milk

Put the flour, yeast and salt in a large bowl (or the bowl of a freestanding mixer). Add the potato, rubbing it in as if it were butter. Alternatively, use the paddle attachment on your mixer. Add the warm milk and water and mix well, then, knead until soft and springy (or use the dough hook). Grease the bowl with a little oil, then return the dough to it. Cover with a teatowel and leave in a warm place to prove until nearly doubled (David says this will take 'rather longer' than usual, possibly because the salt is doing its best to slow down the yeast).
Knock the dough back and knead lightly, then shape and put into a well-greased 1.5 litre loaf tin. Cover again with a damp cloth and let rise until the dough reaches the top of the tin (about 30-40 minutes).
Bake at 220C for about 40 minutes, 'taking care not to let the crust get too browned or hard'.

Are you an Elizabeth David fan? Which is your favourite of her books?

Shocking pink beetroot bread

Do not adjust your screen: this bread really is THAT pink. I've been having a little bit of fun in the last couple of weeks, experimenting with adding vegetable purees to bread dough. I told the Small Girl I was going to do a magic trick and waved my 'wand' (a wooden spoon) over the teatowel-wrapped loaf while chanting the following:

Ala kazam, ala kajink

Make this bread purple-y pink!

As you can see, it worked a treat. Unfortunately she wasn't that keen on eating it - and I admit, the colour is pretty arresting - but the bread is lovely. Here's how to play the same trick at your house.

Beetroot bread
Last year when I interviewed the lovely Ruth Pretty for work she showed me her prized collection of Time-Life 'Foods of the World' cookbooks and recommended that I look out for them. I think she cast a good spell over me, because I went through a particularly good period of finding gems in charity shops or on Trade Me immediately afterwards. One was a Time-Life Bread book, sadly not from the same edition as Ruth's, but edited by Richard Olney and absolutely loaded with amazing recipes and bread knowledge. There's a recipe dating from 1654 in the book that uses pumpkin, which inspired me to try beetroot. The 1654 recipe uses a lot of yeast and lets the bread rise for hours - I just adapted my normal recipe and it worked out fine. This makes a very springy, soft loaf. The beetroot taste is discernable, but not as shocking as the colour might suggest. A tablespoon of fennel seeds would be a nice addition, especially if you're going to eat the bread with salmon and cream cheese.

500g beetroot, topped, tailed and halved
500g strong white flour
1 1/2 tsp dried yeast
1 1/2 tsp salt
60-90ml warm water

Prepare the beetroot first. Boil it for 20-30 minutes, until easily pierced with a knife. Drain, then puree in a food processor or with a stick blender. Set aside to cool. You can do this well in advance, but the puree should be at room temperature when it comes to making the bread.
Mix the flour, yeast and salt together in a large bowl, then stir in the beetroot. Mix well, adding a little water, until you have a soft, slightly sticky dough. Cover the bowl with a cloth and let it rest for 10 minutes.

Lightly oil the worksurface, then tip the dough out onto it. Pick up one side of the dough, stretch it up, then bring it down again on top of itself. Repeat from the opposite corner. Do this another three times, then scrape the dough from your hands and walk away. Leave the dough to rest for 10 minutes, then come back and repeat the pick up and stretch process again. Then leave it again for 10 minutes. Do this process once more, then scoop the dough into a well-oiled large bowl. Cover with a cloth and leave in a warm place for about 45 minutes, until nearly doubled.
Heat the oven to 200C. Tip the dough out onto the bench and knock back gently, pressing it out into a rectangle. Roll this up into a large baguette-sort of shape, or shape to fit a large loaf tin. Leave on a lined tray (or in an oiled tin) for 25 minutes, then bake for 30-35 minutes. Tip onto a rack to cool completely before slicing.

Treat me: Chocolate Honey Buns

No matter how hard I try, our Easter chocolate mountain is showing no sign of shrinking. I've a feeling chocolate rabbits are as prolific breeders as their furry counterparts - though I'm not sure how they produced the chocolate seahorses lurking in the pantry. In a bid to both use up some of the chocolate and make us a weekend breakfast treat, I've devised the following recipe. It's also handily suitable for April's We Should Cocoa challenge, in which honey is the special guest star ingredient.

Chocolate Honey Buns
I had all sorts experimenting with hiding different sorts of chocolate inside the dough when I made these, though not as much fun as my little assistant, who managed to swipe two buns off the bench while I was hunting for the camera.
Little, solid chocolate Easter eggs worked well, but anything with a truffle-y, toffee-y centre was less successful and tended to ooze out everywhere. 'Normal' dark chocolate is probably best in terms of flavour and keeping its shape..
This is a very sticky dough, so it's best handled in a freestanding mixer with a dough hook. If you've got forearms of steel and lots of patience, by all means do it by hand.

450g strong white flour
1 1/2 tsp dried yeast
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup honey
275ml milk
1 large or 2 small eggs
70g butter, at room temperature, cut into small slices
12 - 24 squares of good chocolate - or small Easter eggs, seahorses, bits of bunny or other random chocolates
50ml milk, for glazing

Put the milk in a small pot and bring to a simmer. Stir in the honey and let cool to blood temperature.
Mix the flour, salt and yeast together in the bowl of a freestanding mixer. When the milk and honey mixture has sufficiently cooled, add it and the egg(s) to the dry ingredients. Beat well with a wooden spoon, then turn on the mixer and mix at medium speed for five minutes until a smooth and shiny dough forms. Add a slice of butter and wait for it to be amalgamated into the dough, then repeat with the rest until it is all in.
Cover the bowl with clingfilm and set aside in a warm place until it has nearly doubled - about an hour or so.
Heat the oven to 180C and grease a 12-cup muffin tin.
Turn the dough out of the bowl and punch down lightly. Divide into 12 pieces. Roll each one into a ball, inserting a piece of chocolate as you go. Place in the muffin tins.
Brush the buns with milk and bake for 20-25 minutes, until well risen and golden brown. Leave in the tin for five minutes, then turn out onto a rack. These are at their very best eaten hot, while the chocolate is still molten, but they're still good at room temperature. They also freeze well, but I doubt you'll have many left over.

Have a great weekend, everyone

Treat me: Spelt Apple Bread

You know those smug, holier-than-thou people who announce they've given up sugar/caffeine/alcohol/oxygen? I'm not one of them. And I'm glad.
Yesterday I met a woman who told me about her bizarre bodysculpting diet and all I could do was feel sorry for her, despite the fact she could probably crack an egg between her thighs.
For her, food was just fuel - I suppose that's the only way to look at it when you are eating seven 'meals' of broccoli, spirulina and tuna a day - which I thought was profoundly depressing. In hindsight, this explains why we met at a café where there was nothing to eat. And why she works in fashion PR. But I digress.
Despite not wanting to give up any of my vices, last week I gave an old recipe of mine a makeover - reducing the sugar, the oil, adding in fruit and using wholemeal spelt flour instead of white flour. It turned out pretty damn well - and completely different - which has made me wonder about changing a few other things. But don't worry, I'm not about to become a bodysculpting fiend. Stripper heels and diamante bikinis aren't really my style...

Spelt Apple Bread
I go a bit mad for apples at this time of year and frequently buy more than our fridge/bench can hold. I even dreamt we had an apple tree the other night and woke up cross at myself for buying apples when we had our very own tree. Anyway, this recipe uses four of them, which is a good start. A nice thick slice of this is a good on-the-go breakfast and it freezes well.

3 eggs
150ml oil
200g brown sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
80ml (1/3 cup) yoghurt
260g wholemeal spelt flour
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp salt
3 large apples, grated (to make about 300g grated apple)
50g rolled oats
100g walnuts, roughly chopped
1 large apple, quartered, cored and thinly sliced

Preheat the oven to 170c and grease and line a large loaf tin. Put the eggs, oil, sugar, yoghurt and vanilla in a large bowl and beat well. Sift in the dry ingredients and stir gently to combine, then fold in the apple, rolled oats and walnuts.
Pour into the prepared tin and arrange the sliced apple on top. Bake for about 45-50 minutes, or until a skewer plunged into the loaf comes out cleanly. Let cool in the tin for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a rack to cool completely.

Have a great weekend, everyone. I'm hoping to plant some Chilean guavas and baby papaya trees in my garden, which must be as good for you as lifting weights, don't you think?