Apple and almond porridge

I'm sorry, the recent cold snap is all my fault. I was the one who said winter was over; I was the one who ignored the merino tights sale and who figured my daughter's ever-shrinking raincoat would last out the year. Rest assured I have been paying for my folly. Last weekend, while running in four layers (vest, long-sleeved running top, Icebreaker, rain jacket) plus hat, plus beanie, plus husband's gloves, all I could do was think about the steaming bowl of porridge I was going to have when I got home and my hands defrosted enough to stir the pot. The temperatures have since returned to double figures (just), but I'm not going to take any chances.

Apple and almond porridge
I find the easiest way to do this on busy mornings is to get it going over low heat and let it bubble away while I get ready for work/chivvy child out of bed/make lunches. If you're not a morning person, you can start this the night before - just put all the ingredients in a pot and leave it somewhere cold until the morning. In the summer, you can do this and call it bircher muesli. But those days are still a bit too far away to think about, I reckon.

2/3 cup rolled oats
1 apple, grated (include the skin)
2 Tbsp ground almonds
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp (a small pinch) ground cloves
a good pinch of salt
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2 - 2 1/2 cups almond milk

Put all ingredients in a small pot and set over medium heat. Bring to a simmer, stirring often, and cook until thick and 'ploppy' (ie, bubbling lazily like a mud pool). Add more almond milk or water if it gets too thick. Serve with the porridge topping of your choice - here it's Zany Zeus Greek yoghurt, a drizzle of vanilla syrup and a scattering of chopped almonds. Cream and golden syrup are also good options. If it's a really cold day you can justify cream and Greek yoghurt...

Hope you are keeping at exactly the right temperature, wherever you are in the world.

How to make really good soup from nothing (and a $2.50 bunch of cavolo nero)

Today's Three Ways With... column is all about food waste - using up the stuff you'd normally throw away. While I was thinking about it, I realised I do a lot of food 'saving' that's unconscious. Things aren't so desperate that I reuse teabags (I remember seeing a posh and terrifying friend of my mother's doing this and being thoroughly shocked), but I do like to extract maximum value from things.

Leftovers get taken for work lunches, baguette ends are turned into breadcrumbs or crostini, spotty bananas are frozen for smoothies or baking - it's stuff that seems basic household common sense. But I fear that the very existence of campaigns like Love Food Hate Waste (which I'm proud to support) means that people have lost their way.

I guess if you don't cook often, or see cooking as a difficult chore, then you're less likely to think about using up your leftovers. Or, you may be like someone I know who cooks a lot, but over-caters massively and then just chucks stuff in the bin (a long-lost Presbytarian gene means I am morally outraged by this). But it's not that hard.

If you want to waste less, you need to be mindful right from the start. You need to plan meals to a certain extent, you need to shop with purpose and cook with efficiency. That means, when you get excited by seeing huge bunches of cavolo nero at the shops for $2.50, you need to think on your feet about what you're going to do with it. In this case, I let it sit in the fridge for a few days, waiting for inspiration to strike. We have a small, ill-designed fridge and it's fundamentally unsuited to having lots of stuff in it. So, when I realised the cavolo nero was balanced on Sunday night's leftover roast chicken, something stirred in my brain.

The chicken, stripped of fat and skin, went in the pot, with an onion, a carrot and some limp celery. I covered it with water and an hour or so later, I had a vat of delicious stock. I sauted the rest of the celery, another onion and some garlic in a bit of oil leftover from a jar of sundried tomatoes, added a bowl of cooked quinoa from the fridge, a kumara from the cupboard and the cavolo nero. The stock went in, along with some herbs from the garden and before long 'nothing' had turned into soup. We ate half of it on the spot, and the rest went in the freezer. Not complicated, not costly, not wasteful. Why is this stuff dressed up to be difficult?

What's your favourite way to combat food waste?

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.

Spiced Apple Granola

I don't mean to sound like one of those smug types who do everything but knit their own organic toilet paper,  but I am morally opposed to buying muesli or granola. Not only are they eyewateringly expensive, they're always packed with sugar and somehow you end up with a nasty sort of dust in the bottom of the packet that looks suspiciously like sweepings from the factory floor.
Here's my latest version, invented to use up some leftover apple juice. I've become addicted to sprinkling allspice on my porridge and so it has found its way into this as well.

Spiced Apple Granola
You'll have to excuse my slightly vague measurements here - I make this by eye, judging on how much will fit in a roasting dish (which is conveniently about the same amount as will fit in the former gherkin jar that I store it in). Feel free to vary the nuts, seeds and fruit to suit your pantry and personal taste, but make sure you have a good proportion of these additions to oats or this granola will seem more like a punishment than a delicious breakfast. And don't add poppy seeds - you'll spend the whole day wondering if you've got one stuck in your teeth.

6 cups whole oats
3/4 cup sesame seeds
3/4 cup sunflower seeds
1/2 cup linseeds
1/2 cup pumpkin seeds
1 cup almonds, roughly chopped (peanuts are a good standby for those weeks when money is too tight to mention)
1Tbsp ground allspice
1Tbsp ground cinnamon
4Tbsp honey (or golden syrup, or date syrup, or brown sugar)
3/4 - 1 cup apple juice
4Tbsp sunflower oil
Dried fruit - chopped dates, sultanas, raisins, chopped apricots - about 2 cups

Preheat the oven to 170C. Tip all the dry ingredients (except the fruit) into a large bowl and mix well. Mix the honey, apple juice and oil together and pour over the dry ingredients. Mix well with your hands. Add a little more apple juice (or a splash of water) if it seems very dry. You want it to be glossy, not wet. Tip into a large roasting dish (use two dishes if necessary). Put in the oven and cook for about 30 minutes, until golden. Don't wander away - you need to stir it every 10 minutes or so. I frequently forget about mine and burn it, which is horribly frustrating. When it's an even golden brown, remove from the oven and tip back into the original bowl. Stir through the fruit. Pour into an airtight container - like an empty gherkin jar - when cold.

Have a sweet weekend, everyone!

Old-fashioned vegetable soup

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How to fake a wedding cake

This is the wedding cake that nearly wasn't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Easy frypan frittata

There comes a time in everyone's life when they get that sinking feeling. In fact, particularly unlucky people may get it several times a week. It usually strikes on their way home from work, when they realise that they have forgotten to arrange anything for dinner.

Some people shake this off and simply order takeaways, go out to eat or become a sudden devotee of fasting. Others turn to their fridges, brush the cares of the day aside and get busy with whatever they can find.

Making a meal out of 'nothing' (a relative term, I know) is one of my greatest strengths. It should be on my CV. Instead, here's an example to inspire you the next time you're in the dreaded position of Not Knowing What To Have For Dinner.

Easy Frypan Frittata
This can be customised to suit your requirements and ingredients. It fits my criteria for an 'emergency' style dinner - we always have eggs, cheese and potatoes hanging around - AND it involves very little attention or washing up afterwards. It's also a good way to rehome leftovers.

6 Tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 peppers, cored and sliced
2 cups diced cooked potato (leftover roast potatoes are good here)
3/4 cup diced feta
two handfuls grated cheddar or Parmesan cheese
8 eggs
salt and pepper
fresh herbs, if available

Turn the oven to 200C. Heat three tablespoons of the oil in a heavy cast iron frying pan (that can go in the oven later). Add the onion and peppers and cook for five minutes, until beginning to soften. Add the potato and cook for another five minutes. Add any suitable fresh herbs if you have them.
Crack the eggs into a bowl and add the feta, stir lightly to mix. Add the remaining three tablespoons of oil to the pan, then tip in the egg and cheese mixture. Sprinkle the grated cheese on top and season well with salt and pepper. Put in the waiting oven and cook for 20 minutes, until golden, puffy and set. Let sit for five minutes before slicing. Hey presto - dinner for four - with leftovers for lunch the next day if you're lucky. Bon appetit!

What's your current favourite emergency dinner?

Five last-minute festive fixes

At this stage in proceedings - with less than 36 hours to go until C-Day - there's not much point in sharing complicated Christmas recipes that involve harried phone calls to the butcher, baker or chocolate candlestick maker. If you're the sort of person who likes adding culinary stress to your festive preparations, I figure you will have planned it out already.

Instead, here are five fast and easy fixes for the person who has everything except ideas for last-minute things to eat and to give over Christmas, using some of the excellent products available via Alison's Pantry.

1. The emergency present

I've already tried this one out and it went down an absolute treat. Scoop a handful of Alison's Pantry Mega Mix - macadamias, hazelnuts, dried cherries, jumbo raisins, fudge pieces, cranberries and almonds covered in yoghurt, milk or dark chocolate - into a cellophane bag. Add a sprinkle of edible glitter, tie on a ribbon and label 'Reindeer Poo'. Kids love it, adults look mildly appalled (until they hit a choc-covered macadamia).

2.The spruced-up salad

This is for everyone who has to turn up with a salad on Christmas Day - or at any festive gathering - especially those who are low on energy, inspiration, aptitude or all three.

For six servings: Take one and a half bags of baby salad greens - baby spinach, rocket, mesclun - and sprinkle over two-thirds of a cup of Alison's Pantry Savoury Sprinkle (a blend of roasted chickpeas, karengo, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, almonds and goji berries. Drizzle with three tablespoons of vinaigrette and serve. Everyone will think you're a genius.

3. The tropical breakfast

In lieu of any other suggestions (or requests dressed as suggestions), this is what we are having as part of our breakfast spread on Christmas Day, along with some fizz (elderflower kombucha and some champagne) and some kind of yet-to-be-determined baked good. Someone will have brought me a cup of tea in bed first, of course. Or, they will have if they know what's good for them. Anyway - this easy fruit salad is a good fallback if you miss out on berries and cherries.

For four-six servings: Take one cup of Alison's Pantry Tropical Fruits mix (dried star fruit, coconut chunks, papaya, mango, peach and cantaloupe) and put in a large bowl. Add 1/3 cup boiling water and squeeze over an orange. Leave to stand for four hours (or overnight), then add a tin of drained lychees, half a fresh pineapple (diced) and a few finely shredded mint leaves. Stir gently and serve with some good Greek yoghurt or whipped coconut cream. 

4. The Santa snack

I have heard that Santa wants a Garage Project beer and some crisps on Wednesday night but I'm planning to leave him a pile of Alison's Pantry Raspberry and Cacao Nougat and a glass of icy cold dessert wine. This nougat is soft, chewy and not too sweet - just the right pick-me-up after a night wrapping presents.

5. The cook's perk

The thing about cooking at Christmas is that the house is often full of food, but there's nothing to eat Right Now. Let me introduce you to my new addiction - Alison's Pantry Horopito Cashews. I'm not a savoury snack person as a rule; crisps don't thrill me and I'm not a fan of those orange-dusted polystyrene things either, but these nuts are something else. Horopito, also called bush pepper, is a native New Zealand herb with a fiery kick. It has all sorts of health-giving properties, which must explain why I can't get enough of these nuts. Buy yourself a secret stash of these to help keep you going in the days ahead.

* Disclosure: Alison's Pantry sent me a selection of products to use in this blog post - I am happy to recommend the ones mentioned here.

Really good peanut salad dressing

I'm not sure it's the sort of thing Oprah writes in her gratitude journals, but every day I thank my stars that no one in my household has a nut allergy. Quite apart from the threat of anaphylaxis, I can't imagine life without peanut butter. Actually, I can barely imagine a day without it. 

Peanut butter - especially proper peanut butter, like the excellent varieties springing up everywhere in New Zealand now - is a major food group in my house. Peanut butter and banana on toast is my hurried breakfast (and sometimes, lunch) of choice. It's a handy tahini replacement in homemade hummus, works well in a marinade and is a major baking ingredient. It's also a nifty addition to a salad dressing to perk up broccolini and other assorted bits and pieces. Add this to your weeknight repertoire for those nights when peanut butter and crackers seem like the only viable dinner option.

 

Really good peanut salad dressing

This is child's play to make and it's really useful. I think it's good with steamed broccolini, but you could add all sorts of crunchy greens and some cooked chicken or tofu for a very family-friendly dinner. 

1 clove garlic, crushed with 1/2 tsp flaky salt

2 Tbsp apple cider vinegar

2 Tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice

2 Tbsp good quality peanut butter

1/2 cup good quality peanut oil

Put all ingredients in a screwtop jar, attach the lid and shake well until emulsified. Makes about 1 cup - easily enough for a substantial salad for 4-6 people - and stores well in the fridge.

If you prefer your peanut butter treats to be a little more decadent, then this peanut butter pie should fit the bill (though you won't be fitting much after eating it). 

*My clever friends at Kiwi Mummy Blogs have teamed up with the nice people at Pic's Really Good Peanut Butter to collate some Really Good peanut butter recipes. You can get more peanut butter inspo here.*

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

Pappardelle with tuna and cream

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

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

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

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

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

Ambrosia, food of the gods

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

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

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

Ambrosia

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

180ml (3/4 cup) cream

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

1 tsp pure vanilla extract

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

2 cups mini marshmallows

100g chocolate, roughly chopped

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

Have a great week, everyone x

French crumpets

Something strange is happening to my friends. It seems like it was only yesterday that we were going to each others' 21st birthday parties, bearing bottles of cheap wine, rimu CD towers and wrought-iron candelabras (it was the '90s). Now, without warning, they are suddenly all turning 40.

The parties, in many ways, are the same as they ever were. So are the faces at them, even if they are a little more lived in. But our lives are so different. Then, we acted like children. Now, we talk about our children and discuss after-school care and how to manage the holidays and coping with nits. On Saturday night the party raged on while the host's three-year-old twins slept solidly in their beds and their seven-year-old brother practiced passing canapes. And on Sunday morning, after three glasses of wine the night before and less than six hours' sleep, I felt that time had been very, very cruel.

Then I remembered I was an adult and that if I wanted things to change, I had to be the change. So I got out of bed, made a strong cup of tea and some French crumpets. And life didn't seem so bad after all.

French Crumpets
If you're feeling a little delicate the morning after the night before - and sometimes all it takes for that to happen is for me to think about having a glass of wine - then this is an excellent curative. It won't make you feel 21 again, but you should feel at least 35. If you feel particularly terrible, you could always top the crumpets with a fried egg or some fried tomatoes - or both.

For one serving:

1 egg
1/4 cup milk
pinch of salt
1 tsp sugar
2-3 crumpets (the large, square ones made by Golden Crumpets are particularly good)
a decent knob of butter
Toppings - jam, honey, lemon juice and sugar

Put the egg, milk, salt and sugar into a shallow bowl and whisk well. Dip the crumpets in the mixture, letting them soak up as much of the liquid as possible.
Put a frying pan over medium heat and add the butter. When it foams, add the dipped crumpets. Cook for three or four minutes each side, until golden brown.
Slide onto a waiting plate, anoint with the toppings suggested above, and eat while drinking a very strong cup of tea and reading yesterday's newspaper (that's what old folks like us do).

How to make sunflower seed butter

The advent of school lunches means that we're now going through our favourite peanut butter at an alarming rate. We already ate it a lot - anyone who tells you they don't eat it by the spoonful occasionally is either a person of no consequence or a liar - but now it's disappearing like there's no tomorrow.

We are lucky in that nuts are not a banned substance at 'our' school (dogs are also banned, but they're not as good in sandwiches so it's not such a big deal), but I do feel the need to diversify our reliance on the humble peanut. And so, while scrabbling around in the pantry last weekend I found a small sack of sunflower seeds and decided to have a bit of an experiment, based on my 2011 adventures in making my own tahini.
Half an hour later and I'd made two jars of fragrant sunflower seed butter for the princely sum of $2.50. Here's how you can make it too.

How to make your own sunflower seed butter
This is really easy - all you need is a bag of sunflower seeds, a splash of neutral-flavoured oil, a pinch of salt and a food processor or blender. A fancy high speed blender would do the trick in seconds, but a regular food processor does a pretty good job in about five minutes.

500g sunflower seeds
3-4 Tbsp neutral flavoured oil (sunflower oil, if you really want to be cute about it)
a good pinch of salt (optional)

Line a large oven tray with baking paper and heat the oven to 180C. Scatter the seeds over the prepared tray in an even layer.
Toast them in the oven, watching carefully and stirring every 5-10 minutes, until they are turning golden. Don't wander off, they burn easily.
Remove them from the oven and let cool for five minutes, then tip into your food processor (carefully, so you don't lose the lot on the floor).
Add the salt, 2 Tbsp oil and whiz - it will be very noisy but will settle down and form a paste. Add the remaining oil until the paste slackens to a peanut butter-style consistency.
Scrape into jars and store in a cool, dark place. Makes about 500g.

Treat me: Banana granola

Has it ever occurred to you that bananas are like buses? There's never any when you want one (or at least, one in the right state of ripeness or heading to the right destination), then a whole bunch turn up (or turn from green to extra-ripe) at once.

I know that's a bit of a stretch, but come on, it's Friday. And while I am well aware of the joys of freezing overripe bananas, not least because they're great in smoothies like this apple crumble one, there's only so many containers of frozen bananas that our tiny freezer can take. And there's only so much banana cake a small family can eat in a week too (really, there is!)

So it is with great pride I present to you my latest way to use up all the bananas that are no longer fit for eating in their natural state: banana granola. It's genius, even if I do say so myself.

Banana Granola
This makes the house smell like banana cake, but it's much more virtuous. The buckwheat gives it an extra crunch, but if you can't lay your hands on any try quinoa or another cup of seeds.

4 cups whole or jumbo oats
1 cup seeds - sesame, sunflower, pumpkin, linseed - or a mixture of all of them
1 cup desiccated coconut
1 cup buckwheat or quinoa
1 Tbsp cinnamon
2 Tbsp neutral, flavourless oil
2 Tbsp honey
3 very ripe bananas
1 1/2 cups dried fruit, optional

Heat the oven to 160C and line a large baking dish with baking paper. Put the oats, seeds, coconut, buckwheat or quinoa and cinnamon in a large bowl and stir well to mix.
In a separate bowl, mash the bananas to a smooth puree with the oil and honey. Stir this mixture through the dry ingredients - don't be afraid to use your hands to really mix it in.
Spread in an even layer on the prepared tray and bake for 35-40 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes. If it starts to look a little dark towards the end of the cooking time, just switch the oven off and leave the door slightly ajar, but leave the granola tray in the oven until it has cooled down. This will ensure it dries thoroughly.
Stir through some dried fruit if you like - I reckon sultanas and banana chips are a good combo - and store in an airtight container.

Have a great weekend, everyone x

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

How to make the perfect viniagrette

Q: Why did the tomato blush?
A: Because it saw the salad dressing.

I've always loved that joke, partly because it's about the only punchline that I can remember. But all jokes aside, some people should blush with embarrassment at their salad dressings. Paul Newman, I'm looking at you. Whoever makes the salad dressings at several Wellington restaurants that I've visited recently should also take a good look at themselves.

The thing is, you don’t need to be a super chef to make a good salad dressing, but plenty of people do a great job of making bad ones. If in doubt, remember that condensed milk is best saved for baking and that no amount of secret herbs and spices will disguise cheap oil and nasty vinegar. A lot of people ask me how to make a basic vinaigrette (that's vin-AY-gret, not vinegar-ette - which sounds like the sort of perfume worn by sour little French women) so I've devised this handy guide. Here's how...

How To Make Vinaigrette
Jamie Oliver once put out a special sort of gadget for making salad dressings but all you need  is a clean and empty jam jar, or a small bowl and a fork.
You can vary the acid and the oil to suit your preferences, your pantry supplies and what you're going to use the vinaigrette for. I most often use lemon juice and apple cider or red wine vinegar with extra virgin olive oil. A good pinch of cumin seeds can be a good addition, or finely fresh herbs. If you're using herbs, the vinaigrette is best used that day. Otherwise it will happily keep in the fridge for a couple of weeks.
Having a jar of vinaigrette in the fridge makes that after-work dinner dash much easier. Even though it only takes minutes to make, knowing you can pull some salad leaves out of a bag (or the garden) and dress them with something you've prepared earlier makes dinner time seem less daunting. I also use vinaigrette on steamed beans and carrots, shredded beetroot and new potatoes.

First, peel a clove of plump, juicy garlic and put it on a chopping board with a good pinch of salt. Using the blade of a knife, crush the clove with the salt to form a smooth paste. Scrape this off the chopping board and put it in a clean, dry jam jar (or a small bowl).
Add a teaspoon of honey (or brown sugar) and a teaspoon of mustard (Dijon for preference, English for wow factor).
Add 2 1/2 tablespoons of vinegar/lemon juice and six tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil, then screw the lid on the jar and give it a good shake. Taste it for seasoning and sharpness - does it need more salt? more oil? more vinegar? a pinch of sugar to balance the flavours? - before using.

What's your favourite salad dressing?

The great kitchen makeover

For the first time in 10 weeks, our house is a tradesperson-free zone. There is no need to scramble out of bed before they arrive, no need to skirt around ladders and buckets of plaster and dropsheets. It's lovely.

There's more chaos to come in a week or two (flooring) and we are still missing a bedroom door (among other things), but at least the kitchen is done. And now I can show you!

Here's 'the journey' as Kevin McCloud would say....

...

It wasn't a majorly fancy makeover - we - or rather, the nice builder - knocked out the old pantry, then we got a new one installed on the other side of the kitchen. It might take a village to raise a child, but it took five men more than two weeks to get the pantry sorted. Well, actually, in the end it took one man who knew what he was doing about half an hour to sort it. He was a top bloke.

Major credit also has to go to my beloved, who replaced all the horrible 80s melamine joinery with nicely painted plywood facings, which ended up costing about $200 rather than the $2000+ we'd been quoted elsewhere. He also ripped out the grotty cabinet above the bench by the sink and got rid of the grimy shelf on the other side. Oh, and he carefully crafted a wooden benchtop wotsit to cover the hole where the old extraction unit was. Even the builder was impressed by that.

The only task left is to sort out the cake tins and that cupboard where plastic containers and empty jars go to breed. If you have any tips on dealing with those issues, I'd love to hear them.

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?