Book club nibbles

I think some book groups have a cook-to-impress thing going on. Wasn’t there something along those lines simmering away in the background of The Jane Austen Book Club?  Well, in our book club there’s none of that! Five of us meet every month or so, and this month we met at my place. To discuss Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood. I did picture us sitting around a pitcher of Bloody Mary and crunching celery sticks as we dissected the Clutter murders! But we don’t do themed events either, and I’m no fan of tomato juice anyway – although it was a noticeable ingredient in the gazpacho earlier this month. Still, working at home today, so I made a herb & feta frittata – chives from the garden being the home-grown touch – after the recipe in Annabel Langbein’s Smart food for busy people. That has to be one of the most useful cookbooks ever written. Great tasting food, not time-consuming to produce. Perhaps it’s getting a little dated, if you follow food trends. After all, wasn’t frittata described as the quiche of the ‘90s? But maybe we’re a very ‘90s book group? Leastways, there was none of the frittata remaining when the others left.

 

Here’s the recipe … Heat 2 tbspn olive oil in a pan & add 2 or 3 potatoes (depends on their size; I think about 3 of the small-ish, so-called gourmet, boilers you get in the supermarket work well), diced into 1 cm chunks, cooking until just tender. 5 minutes? Add a clove or two of crushed garlic & cook another minute. Remove from the heat, and mix in 3 tbspn chopped herbs (it doesn’t have to be chives, though that’s what I’ve always used) & 100 grams of decent feta. Then add this mix to a large bowl in which 6 eggs have been lightly beaten. Season the egg & potato mix, combine well and return to the frypan, cooking over a low heat for about 5 minutes. Then under a grill for a further few minutes until it’s golden brown and set. Experience has taught me to leave it to cool in the pan until ready to serve. Then cut into finger food pieces, and serve still warm.

Charred courgettes with mint & vinegar

Friends having a party, a post-New-Year-barbecue. Bring something tasty to share, the invitation said. So, with a new cookbook to dip into, Sizzle by Julie Biuso, supposed to be the best barbecue cookbook in the world (according to a gold medallion-shaped sticker on the book’s cover), and the zucchini producing madly, I found this recipe. Very straightforward in the making … courgettes halved and rubbed with olive oil, and after cooking sprinkled with garlic & mint (also from the garden), drizzled with red wine vinegar, seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. Great ingredients. And the end-result was okay, nicely garlicky at least. I wouldn’t rave about it but, to be fair, I did grill the courgettes in the oven 3 hours or so before heading to the party … don’t have a barbecue & wasn’t sure about the etiquette of arriving with food to cook … so maybe my rendition didn’t do justice to the recipe. The courgettes certainly weren’t charred, and that, I suspect, would have helped. Plus, it all looked a bit soggy & washed-out after sitting for a few hours. So I’ll withhold a verdict on that cookbook. And now I think about it, not even sure why I bought it, given my barbecue-less state!

The secret of sweet corn?

It’s simple combinations that often make the best meals. Like sweet corn and butter. Leaving Napier the other day, I stopped at the fresh produce seller beside Anderson Park and bought some freshly harvested sweet corn. Home a few hours later, that became lunch. The secret, it seems to me, is dropping the cobs into a pot of unsalted boiling water & leaving to cook for only about a minute. The kernels remain tender & sweet & juicy. Cooking for longer leads to a tougher, more watery result. Most undesirable.

Culinary crime #2

You think they’d know better. Stall holders at the farmers’ market selling produce – tomatoes – pre-packed in plastic bags. I suppose they’ve decided it’s easier, more efficient, and for them at least it probably is – fewer items to weigh, saves time, time is money, all that kind of un-foodie thinking. But don’t shoppers at markets enjoy the experience of selecting exactly what they want, isn’t that part of the point of shopping there? … that day I was looking for big, ripe ‘beefsteak’ tomatoes for the insalata tricolore. Smaller salad tomatoes just don’t do the same job.

 

Still, at least they weren’t storing tomatoes in the fridge! That really would have been a crime! 

Marshmallow fruit tart

Some dishes have stories. Evoke memories, recall friends. Christmas 1991: Lesotho. My friend Joan was working there as a volunteer; I was the same in Namibia. I decided to visit. And towards the end of my stay, somebody’s birthday perhaps, perhaps the evening when we decided that the road to wealth & happiness began with establishing a Society for the protection of an endangered bird, real or imagined (though we never followed this path, I hasten to add, for the benefit of those who donate to such charities!), on that evening Joan produced this dessert. Which wowed me then, and every time I make it is guaranteed to produce requests for the recipe. And this was what we finished our Italian-themed meal with the other night. Though, I have to say, using tinned fruit makes it faux summery, and it’s hardly Italian. But, it’s the sort of dessert to appeal to the kid in all of us.

 

Crust

 

In a food processor, turn a packet of Krispie biscuits into rough crumbs … this is why I missed a food processor in that borrowed kitchen … banging the biscuits in a plastic bag with a rolling pin doesn’t achieve the same effect! Melt 125 mg of butter and mix with biscuits. Press the result into a well-greased 22 cm dish, and chill while making filling. But do make sure, when pressing, that the crust’s not thick & chunky in places. We’re trying to make a good impression here, after all!

 

Filling

 

Drain a can of boysenberries (my preference, though other fruits would do just as well), reserving 50 ml of the juice. Put this juice in a small saucepan together with 100 gms of marshmallows (I always use white, because that’s what Joan said, but I can’t see why pink ones aren’t suitable) & slowly heat until the marshmallows are melted. Then remove from the heat & allow to cool … but not to set.

 

Meanwhile, whip 250 ml of cream. When the juice & marshmallow stuff has cooled, fold it into the cream along with the boysenberries (or whatever).  Then turn into the crust, and return to the fridge, allowing to chill until set. I always allow a few hours, just to play it safe.

 

And the result? Yummy, yummy, yummy.

January 18th: Eating Italian, sort of

From the market to the kitchen, and the challenges of cooking in someone else’s space. Little anxieties … will the knives be sharp … the pots big enough … the serving dishes suitable … wine glasses sufficient …? I could go on. But, on this occasion, I found a very well-equipped kitchen – lacking only a food processor – and, a real bonus, a very generous bench on which to lay out all the makings of dinner for seven. Summer food, Italian-themed, inspired in part by Gabriella Rossi’s recipes.

 

Insalata tricolore

 

Fabulous fresh-tasting refreshing salad as a starter. A personal favourite. One small red onion, thinly sliced & soaked in cold water for half an hour. Half a dozen large tomatoes, skinned, sliced. Thinly sliced mozzarella. And for the third colour, the green, today I used rocket (though in the past have preferred basil, and watercress would also work). Then assemble in layers … red, green + onion, white … drizzling with extra virgin olive oil, sprinkling with salt, a grind of black pepper. Repeat. Cover & chill for at least a couple of hours. Serve, sprinkled with toasted pine nuts. The way the tomato juices mingle with the oil and make a natural dressing is just great.

 

Pasta with pesto

 

Couldn’t remember whether Italians have their pasta dish before or after the meat. But I was in charge, and what the heck. Not that you need a recipe to mix store-bought pesto (far better quality than the disappointing glug I used earlier this month) with pasta anyway. But I noticed the Silver Palate cooks mix cream and a couple of tablespoons of hot pasta water into the pesto before mixing through. So that’s what I did. No complaints, there.

 

A shame though that some of our friends thought the pasta was the main dish and were a little startled when the next one appeared. But, oh, I was having fun!

 

Garlic chicken on a bed of vegetables

 

As Gabriella says, “quick to prepare and full of sunshiny flavours”. Such an appealing description. Courgettes, tomatoes, both fresh & sun-dried, red peppers, celery, onions, garlic make the bed of veggies. A pocket of soft cheese with herbs & garlic under the skin of the chicken breasts, or thighs. The chicken emerges golden, the vegetables still have their shape after about 40 minutes in the oven, and when served with crusty bread to mop up the juices, delicious.  

 

There was more, but dessert can wait until next time.

Farmers’ Market, Hastings

But of course (continuing yesterday’s theme) it’s not all doom & gloom for foodies along SH2. The Hawke’s Bay region still has lots of the local, from home-grown produce sold at road-side stalls to the very numerous – and already discussed, already dissed – vineyard operations. But the jewel in the crown is probably the weekly farmers’ market held in the Hastings showgrounds every Sunday morning. It has a great setting, too, rather (English) park-like in appearance with stalls set up around an open green area surrounded by grand trees.  Live entertainment – once a woman singing Piaf songs, this Sunday a male a capella choir (though they did seem to be dressed a bit like Morris dancers & at first I wasn’t sure if they were going to sing for us, or dance) – adds a festive air, a Continental seasoning on top of the English flavours.  I’ve been there before, clearly, but this Sunday we went with purpose, with a shopping list.  Courgettes, tomatoes, red onion, garlic, rocket, lettuces of various descriptions, red peppers … what else? Crusty bread, celery. There’s much else besides … meat, cheeses, jams & pickles, wine … Anyway, all this because we’d invited friends for dinner. And it was fun, shopping this way. Knowing everything was freshly harvested & locally grown.

 

There was one little dilemma, however. A sort of what-to-wear moment. The straw sunhat, okay, but whether or not to shop with a wicker basket! I decided that was a little over-the-top (for me). So grabbed a re-usable shopping bag on the way out of the house instead. But once at the market totally forgot about it, ending up with my purchases in plastic bags. Oh dear. Still, at least, they were re-cycled supermarket bags.

State Highway 2: A foodie perspective

I love a road trip. Perhaps the four-&-a-bit hours between Wellington & Napier doesn’t really count, but that’s been my road trip over this long weekend. One of the great things about driving in NZ is the varied nature of the landscape … from Wellington’s gorgeous harbour through the settled, suburban Hutt Valley to the blast of the winding Rimutaka Hill road; then the small towns of the southern Wairarapa, the closing in of the valley as you head north, the stunning sculptural impact of the windfarm on the hills near Woodville … but enough! … this isn’t a travelogue. Let’s just say that it’s not a boring drive.

 

But, I thought as I drove up on Friday, how disappointing it all is from a foodie perspective. If you’re after the local, the regional. Sure, there are the cafés and restaurants in the small towns of the southern Wairarapa, some of them very good, but no different really from what’s on offer in the cities. The market garden shops north of Greytown still sell some of their own produce but – or at least this is what I think – much of  what’s for sale has been bought in, so what’s available is  pretty much as in any decent green grocer’s. For properly local, the Greytown butcher is perhaps the best place to stop – sadly, however, closed today on my return, this being the public holiday.

 

Then, of course, there are the vineyards – SH2 is, after all, marketed as the wine route, dotted at the roadside with dinky bunch-of-grapes signs all the way from (or to) Wellington’s wind-swept airport. But visiting NZ vineyards is, I have to say, SO disappointing. Such commercial, commercialised experiences. Just another shopping expedition. Fine, of course, if the vineyard is the destination, if you’re heading there with friends for lunch & a bottle of wine, but as an unplanned halt on a road trip, no. Save that experience for France!

 

Years ago, I used to stay with a cousin in Provence. On occasion, we’d fill his old Renault with numerous glass flagons, some wicker bound, and drive them to a local vineyard where rosé was four francs a litre. Back home I’d decant from the flagons into an array of bottles, splashing not a little on the kitchen flagstones in the process, before roughly corking the bottles. At the rate we seemed to drink the wine, a rough corking was all that was required.

 

Maybe that sort of experience spoiled me for latter-day vineyard visits?

Garden maintenance #2: Turning into my father?

This growing gardening obsession makes me worry I’m turning into my father! I’ve been looking at the hedge on our western boundary & thinking about getting it trimmed, lopped in height by a couple of feet or so. And why would I do this? Oh, to make sure the vegetable garden gets a bit more of the afternoon sun! For years I’ve railed against my father’s war on trees. In Wadestown, he cut back a beautiful magnolia; at Tahuahua he butchered (to my eyes) a grand old rhododendron – in both instances, all to give a bit more light on his veggies. Oh dear, they say we turn into our parents as we age.

Garden maintenance #1

Deciding to eat seasonally does require some sort of commitment to keeping the garden going. So for the past 10 days or so I’ve been working on keeping it productive. New plantings of lettuce and mesclun to keep me going for the rest of the summer and into the autumn. Thinking ahead, plantings of silver beet and cauliflower, and a second lot of carrots. I must get a row of leeks started soon, too. Such a great winter vegetable, but the question is where to squeeze them in in our small garden. The peas are about to come out … maybe  I’ll do that tomorrow morning … they’ve produced well for about 3 weeks, but are just about finished. Tonight was the last night I’ll harvest peas straight from the garden into the pot … I’ve shelled and frozen those that were excess to requirements, but it won’t be the same. However, I don’t think I’ll put the leeks there, maybe where a few excess lettuce are. Ah, decisions!