Lemon verbena syrup + an elegant fruit salad

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

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

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

Lemon Verbena Syrup

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

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

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

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

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?

Sparkling berry brandy cocktails

Someone asked me the other day what has been my greatest achievement of 2014. In the absence of anything else, I've finally decided that keeping going this year has been achievement enough.  Thank you dear readers for your continued support. May 2015 be full of 'great achievements' (whatever you think they are) for all of us.

In the meantime, here's a small, recent achievement - summer in a glass. Think of this as the Kiwi Pimm's...

Sparkling berry brandy cocktails
This is a good way to turn a bottle of Lindauer into something more special. The first person I served it to commented that 'the strawberries hide the taste of the alcohol'. I didn't have the heart to tell him about the brandy...

2 Tbsp brandy
1 Tbsp icing sugar
2/3 cup sliced strawberries
1 bottle of your best sparkling wine

Put the brandy and icing sugar in a small bowl and mix well. Add the strawberries and stir. Set aside (this can be done several hours in advance if you like). To serve, divide this mixture between six champagne flutes and top with sparkling wine.

Happy New Year, everyone. See you in 2015.

Chilli chocolate syrup + a chilli chocolate martini

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

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

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

Chocolate chilli syrup

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

1 cup water

1 cup caster sugar

3 Tbsp good quality cocoa powder

1 tsp chilli flakes

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

Chocolate chilli martini

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

60ml ice cold vodka

30ml vermouth

30ml chilli chocolate syrup

ice

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

 

Homemade chocolate milk

It's the ultimate collab - two loved and respected food brands who each make fantastic quality products, joining them together in blended union. Organic milk + premium chocolate = a marriage made in heaven.

But there has been just one problem with Lewis Road Creamery's Chocolate Milk (featuring Whittaker's Creamy Milk Chocolate): it's been flying off shelves faster than they can make it. However, help is at hand. Using a little Kiwi ingenuity, you can make your own Lewis Road Creamery Chocolate Milk. Here's how...

Homemade Chocolate Milk
Let me be clear - I'm not being paid for this. But take it from me, a confirmed non-milk drinker AND as someone who can easily say no to most milk chocolate, that these two products are incredibly good, both separately and together. If you're struggling to get your hands on a bottle of their match-made-in-heaven chocolate milk, here's how to make your own at home.

125g Whittaker's Creamy Milk Chocolate, roughly chopped
750ml Lewis Rd Creamery Light Milk
a pinch of salt

Put the chocolate and half the milk in a small saucepan and set over low heat. Stir occasionally, until the chocolate has just melted. Set aside and cool to room temperature, then add the remaining milk and the salt. Stir well, then decant into a jug or bottle and put in the fridge to chill completely. The chocolate may solidify a little, but a good shake or stir will sort things out.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

What to do with a Buddha's hand

Ever shaken a Buddha's hand? I wouldn't recommend it; the 'skin' is pitted and lumpy and the fingers are disturbingly claw-like. But the scent makes you see past its horror-movie looks - it's light, floral and lemony, the sort of perfume you wish they'd bottle.

The Buddha's Hand, also known as Fingered Citron, Buddha's Fingers or, by it's botanical name, citrus medica, is apparently one of the most ancient forms of citrus fruit still in existence. There's no juicy interior -slice into one and it's all bright white pith. But beyond using them as a conversation starter or a scary prop for tricks (imagine getting into bed and having one of these at your feet!), there are lots of ways to use one.

You can take follow David Lebovitz's advice and turn it into candied citron, you can come over all Martha Stewart and use it to scent a room (though a rather small room, unless you want the scent to be very faint). You can zest a little skin over fish, or use it to scent a butter cake or shortbread. But this is my favourite way to use it: Buddha's Hand Vodka.

Buddha's Hand Vodka
You can adapt this to suit whatever amount of vodka you have, just adjust to suit.
For 250ml vodka, pare off about a third of the Buddha's Hand rind, trying to avoid as much pith as possible. Put this in a screwtop jar, along with 1/3 cup of sugar. Add the vodka, apply the lid and shake well until the sugar has dissolved. Make sure the Buddha's Hand peel is below the surface of the vodka. Leave for at least three days (a week is better), shaking once a day. You can strain out the peel if you like, but it gives a suitably freakish appearance to the liquid and it will continue to flavour the liquid if you leave it in.

Do you have any interesting ways to use a Buddha's Hand?

Random recipe: The Bees Knees

This time last year I was idling around Soho, hoping to have a drink with Mr Belleau Kitchen. Alas, our schedules did not allow it, but we're finally managing a kind of virtual cocktail hour through this month's Random Recipes challenge.

For July, Dom has asked us to delve deep into our drinks books and come up with a cocktail recipe. I didn't have to try very hard - when I lifted a notebook off the shelf in my office a tiny slip of paper with this recipe on it fluttered out. It's for a Bees Knees, a honey, lemon and gin cocktail that I last made for my father in a tiny flat in Hampstead in 2008. That flat has long gone from my life and, sadly, so has Dad, but shaking this up in a jam jar took me back there in an instant. If gin makes you maudlin - look, even writing about it makes me a bit blue - then rest assured you can make it with vodka too.

The Bees Knees
I remember cutting this recipe out of the Observer Food Monthly several weeks ahead of my parents' visit, chiefly because honey and gin were two of Dad's great loves. (Cigars, red wine, steak and chocolate were harder to fit in a cocktail glass.) I've rejigged the quantities a little and this amount is enough for two - or one very thirsty person. To me, this is the perfect cocktail; it's short, punchy and not too sweet.

50ml freshly squeezed lemon juice
3 Tbsp honey syrup - made by stirring together 1 Tbsp honey and 2 Tbsp water
100ml best quality gin (or vodka)
ice

Put all ingredients in a cocktail shaker, add ice and shake to combine. Strain into two martini glasses and garnish with a strip of lemon rind. Serves two.

Are you a fan of the cocktail hour? What's your poison?

Treat me: Easy coffee sorbet

Once upon a time I had a flatmate called Justin who ate, drank, lived and breathed coffee. He worked at a coffee roastery, he installed a state-of-the-art coffee machine in our house and he happily spent hours teaching everyone how to extract the perfect espresso. He was a coffee god.

Now, this would have been great, but coffee and I just don't get on. I love the smell of it, the science of it, the taste of it - but one sip and I generally don't feel so good.

In Wellington, where coffee is king, this is quite the social disability. Telling someone you'll meet them for a cup of herbal tea or a glass of water just doesn't have quite the same ring to it. But I'm happy to sit with them while they drink their coffee and share the nuggets of coffee know-how I picked up from Justin.

The thing I remember the most is about water quality. If your water isn't pure and fresh, then your coffee will taste dirty and stale. That's why it's important to clean out your coffee machine and always use filtered water when you make it. Using a water filter means you're reducing levels of chlorine and trace heavy metals, which can be detrimental to the taste.

Easy Coffee Sorbet
If you can filter water and boil a kettle, you can make this simple sorbet. I've given instructions below for making it with plunger coffee grounds, but if you are a fan of instant (Justin would be appalled, but it was good enough for Elizabeth David, apparently), then by all means use it. If you're a fan of filtered water, don't forget to enter your recipe into the Better With BRITA competition - but hurry, entries close on June 30.
The best thing to do with this sorbet is to make it into a kind of reverse affogato - scoop the sorbet into little glasses or demi-tasse coffee cups, then pour over some cream. The cream starts to freeze in parts, making it seem very luxurious to eat.

6 Tbsp plunger grind coffee
750ml filtered water
250g raw sugar
2 egg whites

Put the coffee in a plunger. Bring the all the water to just before boiling in a kettle, then slowly pour 500ml of it over the coffee grounds. Stir briefly, then leave for four minutes to steep.
Put the sugar in a small saucepan and pour the remaining 250ml water over the top. Stir briskly to start dissolving the sugar, then put the pot over gentle heat and bring to a quiet simmer, until the sugar is completely dissolved. Remove from the heat.
Plunge the coffee, then pour through a fine sieve into the sugar syrup (this makes sure the end sorbet isn't gritty). Let cool, then pour into a plastic container with a lid and freeze overnight (or for at least eight hours).
Let it defrost slightly, then blend it in a food processor with the egg whites. The mixture will increase in volume and turn a lighter colour.
Pour it back into the plastic container and freeze again for a couple of hours.
Serve in scoops as directed above, add to an iced coffee or eat straight from the freezer on a hot day.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

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

Treat me: Spanish Hot Chocolate

Winter is coming, I can feel it in my bones. There's only a month until the Shortest Day (after which winter really starts in this part of the world) and even though it's been bright and sunny, there's no mistaking that chill in the air.

That means porridge is back on the breakfast menu and so - occasionally - are delicate demi-tasses of my very own homemade Spanish hot chocolate. It's thick, velvety and just the thing to cheer you up on a grey morning. Want some?

Spanish Hot Chocolate
Spanish hot chocolate is like nothing else on earth. It's rich, thick and has a chocolate hit strong enough to sustain you until aperitivo hour. I've finally clocked how to make it at home - not quite as much fun as drinking it in Spain, but infinitely more achievable at the moment.
For best results, use the best cocoa powder and chocolate you can find. This makes enough for a good-sized jar - instructions follow on how to take it from powder to liquid heaven.

1 cup cocoa powder
1/3 cup caster sugar - increase this to 1/2 a cup if you like things very sweet
6 Tbsp cornflour
200g dark chocolate, smashed into little bits

Put all ingredients into a food processor and whiz until it forms a fine powder. Alternatively, sift the cocoa, caster sugar and cornflour into a small bowl, then stir in the finely chopped chocolate. Transfer to a screwtop jar.

To make two small servings:  Mix 1/3 cup (6 Tbsp) of the chocolate mixture with 1/2 cup milk of your choice (not low fat milk, ok?) in a small saucepan. Heat, stirring all the time, until it thickens, then add 1 1/2 cups milk and stir frantically. Keep cooking over low heat, stirring all the time, until the mixture is thick and velvety. Divide between two cups. Follow with a brandy and a cigar, then go to work.

Have a great week, everyone x

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.

Smoked salmon rosti canapes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Treat me: Boozy figs

If you were beamed to earth from another planet at the moment you'd think all humans did was eat, drink and be merry. While the period between mid-November and early January is fairly intense on that scale, it's pretty much always the season of entertaining at our house. And I love it, I really do, except for perhaps that tense 15 minutes just before the entertainees arrive and I feel in a state of complete chaos.

This year, with two fairly major entertaining events scheduled chez nous in the next fortnight, I've decided to take control. Firstly, I'm going to delegate a lot more (sorry, invitees, I understand if you want to pull out now) and secondly, I'm going to have something up my sleeve that I prepared earlier.

These boozy figs are an excellent do-ahead option at this time of year, whether you're holding a soiree or you've been invited to one by someone like me who wants you to cross town with dessert in your handbag. The recipe is of unknown provenance - it's out of one of my mum's notebooks - and it is very simple. I've a hunch it is just the thing for this month's Tea Time Treats challenge, hosted by the ever-lovely Karen of Lavender and Lovage (with able support from Kate at What Kate Baked) - in which dried fruit is the theme.

Boozy figs
You can whip these mulled figs together in five minutes before you go to work, then when you come home they'll be all plump and juicy. If you're in the northern hemisphere, serve them warm over a slab of posh vanilla ice cream., if you're in the southern, add strawberries. If you're really, really organised, put them in a lidded jar in the fridge and they'll be good for several weeks.

400g dried figs, cut in half (use scissors)
500ml fruity red wine
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 small orange, washed and halved
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1 punnet of strawberries, washed and hulled (optional)

Put all ingredients in a small saucepan and set over medium heat. Bring to a gentle simmer and let bubble away for five minutes. Take off the heat and let cool. Then, either transfer to a bowl or jar, cover and put in the fridge. Or, if you're planning to eat them in a few hours, add the strawberries before putting in the fridge. Serves six.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Spring berry smoothie

Something a bit embarrassing happens when we have people round. It's not a problem when the sun is over the yardarm, so to speak, but when they look meaningfully at the kettle and the cupboard where the mugs are, I feel a bit uncomfortable.
It's not that I am ashamed of the tin of instant coffee (it's for my mother-in-law - she doesn't drink the other stuff) or our ugly mug selection, but that I'm never sure when to break it to them that we don't have any milk.
Apart from my great milk-drinking, bechamel-sauce guzzling period (September 2008 until about May 2009), we don't drink it. I buy some occasionally if a cooking project warrants it, of course, but it does seem rather wasteful to buy milk, keep it in the fridge on the off-chance that we might have a milky tea-drinker crossing the threshold, then end up throwing it away. Perhaps I should invest in those little sachets of milk that you get in hotels. But I think I'd rather look like a bad hostess than one with no taste. What do you think?

Spring berry smoothie
One of the best things about living a milk-free existence is that you get to make virtuous and vibrant smoothies like this one. One of the best things about coming back to New Zealand after our holiday was drinking water from the tap without gagging - if you live somewhere with disgusting tap water then I'd suggest making these with the bottle sort. Or I suppose you could go all out and use milk, but rest assured, it's nicer without. If you're not a fan of berries, try fresh pineapple.

For two large smoothies:

1 1/2 cups frozen berries
1 large banana, cut into chunks (this is a good way to use up frozen bananas, if you have a freezer full)
3 Tbsp ground almonds
1 Tbsp chia seeds
250ml cold water

Put everything in a blender, or in a large glass jar in which you can fit a stick blender, and whizz until smooth. Add a little more water if it seems very thick. Pour into two glasses and serve.

Treat me: Ginger cider cake

Two of my favourite redheads have birthdays this weekend - so in their honour I have devised a ginger-y cake. You don't have to have redhead or suffered years of school yard torment to enjoy it, but it helps if you like light, lovely cake studded with nuggets of crystallised ginger and walnuts. Who's in?

Ginger cider cake
This is an adapted version of a cake in Margaret Fulton's 'My Very Special Cookbook', a book worth hunting for in your next charity shop raids. I used a bottle of Rekorderlig Orange-Ginger cider (which is actually very drinkable, for once you can believe the hype), but you could use any cider or beer and change the fruit/spices accordingly. It makes a very big cake suitable for baking in a bundt tin - but make sure you grease and flour it really well or you'll suffer the consequences. I can confirm the cake is still edible when it comes out of the tin in two pieces, but it's less suitable to present to someone as a birthday treat.

250g soft butter
400g brown sugar
2 eggs, at room temperature
100g crystallised ginger, roughly chopped
100g walnuts, roughly chopped
500ml beer or cider, at room temperature
450g plain flour
2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 180C and grease and/or line a large bundt tin.
Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy - easiest done with a stand mixer or food processor - then beat in the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the ginger and walnuts.
Sift the flour, baking soda, salt and spices together then add about a quarter of it to the butter mixture. Fold in, then add a quarter of the beer or cider. Repeat until all the ingredients are combined.
Scrape into the prepared tin and bake for about 45 minutes, until the cake is well risen and a skewer plunged into the centre comes out clean.
Leave in the tin for 10 minutes to cool, then carefully turn out onto a rack to cool completely.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

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!

Smoked salmon and wasabi pate

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

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

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

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

Bonne semaine, tout le monde!

Treat me: Sticky red wine syrup

Of all the festive season leftovers, half-drunk bottles of wine are probably the hardest to deal with. Drinking them is the obvious solution, but there's only so much of that you can do before things get a bit messy. Freezing them in neat containers to add to risotto is another option that only works if your freezer isn't full of containers of stock you made from the ham bone. But in a bid to make some space in the fridge I devised this handy syrup that uses up the remains of a bottle of pinot noir and some strawberry jam. Even better, it can be poured over leftover icecream.

Red wine and strawberry syrup
This is really good poured over vanilla icecream and strawberries for a grown-up sundae, but you could also try it over pancakes or any kind of plain cake. I used strawberry jam because that's what we had, but another good fruity variety would work well. Not sure about raspberry though, unless you don't mind the pips. I'm quite keen to try one with white wine and marmalade, but we never seem to have any white wine left over...

250ml red wine
1/2 cup strawberry or raspberry jam
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 tsp red wine vinegar

Put the wine, jam and sugar in a small saucepan over medium heat. Let it simmer for 10-15 minutes, until syrupy (stirring occasionally). Remove from the heat and let cool, then taste. Add the vinegar (or a few drops of lemon juice) if it seems too sweet. Pour into a clean jar and store in the fridge.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

Gougeres that will make you talk

One of the things I love about the Boy Wonder is his gregariousness. In his gung-ho reporter days he'd winkle stories out of anyone - if they were bad eggs it was often to their regret - and I used to give him a stern talking-to before we went anywhere so he wouldn't accidentally-on-purpose interrogate my friends.

"I can't help it," he'd say. "People just tell me things."

If he's not making people divulge their life story, he's probably telling them to come over for a drink. At times last summer I felt like we were running a bar and I was a short order canape maker. I came across these photos the other day and remembered churning out lots of these little cheesy puffs. I think I'm just about ready to make them again.

Gougeres

I've made these for years in all sorts of places, some better equipped than others. While beating the mixture in a food processor does make it a bit easier, I think the hassle of washing all the parts afterwards is hardly worth it. Equip yourself with a sturdy wooden spoon and go to it. Line the tray with baking paper and you'll only have one pot to wash. 

Gougeres are orginally from Burgundy and if you're doing them the proper French way you should use gruyere. But I say, use whatever cheese comes to hand. No one will complain, trust me.

1 cup (250ml) water

50g butter

1/2 tsp salt

1 cup (155g) flour

3 eggs

3/4 cup grated cheese

Heat the oven to 210C and line a tray with nonstick baking paper. 

Put the butter, water and salt in a large pot and bring to the boil. When the butter has melted, tip in the flour and stir well. Turn down the heat and keep stirring until the dough forms a ball. Keep stirring this ball around the pot for about another minute, then remove from the heat and add one of the eggs. Beat like fury until it is all amalgamated, then repeat with the remaining eggs, one at a time. When the mixture is smooth and shiny, beat in the cheese.

Scrape spoonful-sized heaps onto the baking tray. Bake for 10-15 minutes, until the gougeres are golden and puffed up. Eat immediately with a glass of something cold.

Do you have a favourite recipe for what Nigella calls 'unhappy hour'?

Chocolate martini

I'm not in the habit of cocktails on a Monday morning, so let me assure you I made this last night. I'm not in the habit of drinking cocktails on a Sunday night either, but it seemed a fitting thing to do after a very good weekend. The sun shone, I got an unexpected windfall from the tax man, I got an unexpected VIP ticket to WOW and - most exciting of all - the dishwasher man finally turned up.
From where I am sitting (even with a slight pounding in my head), the glass is most definitely half full.

Chocolate Martini
Cocktails were the theme for September's We Should Cocoa and I have been watching cocktail-themed recipes pop up all over the blog world, unable to come up with anything clever myself. So, rather late in the piece, I have gone back to basics with a chocolate martini. I've based the recipe on something an old friend used to make when I was a beginner journalist (with a far greater tolerance for alcohol), but substituted vanilla syrup for creme de cacao.

90ml (2 shots) good quality vodka, ice cold
45 ml (1 shot) good quality vodka syrup (I like this one or this one)
1 chocolate - or square of dark chocolate

Shake the vodka and vanilla syrup together over ice (a jam jar will do, if your cocktail shaking days are behind you). Put the chocolate into a chilled martini glass and pour the vodka and vanilla mix on top. Drink slowly, remembering the words of Dorothy Parker:

"I like to have a martini,

Two at the very most.

After three I'm under the table,

after four I'm under my host."

Have a great Monday, everyone. Cheers!

One tequila, two tequila...

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

Image via here

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

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