Minted sweet pea and spinach soup

The highlight of the dinner the other night was probably the soup. But what a challenge it was finding fresh mint in Wellington at this time of the year. Our highly productive (in summer) plant, dead above the ground. So was the mint in my parents’ garden, and the next-door neighbour’s, and a nearby friend’s. I ended up having to buy a plant at the supermarket … and I do think it’s absurd when one ends up purchasing common herbs like mint & chives & parsley from the supermarket. Okay, perhaps, if you’re an apartment dweller, but not when you have a garden. It seems like failure. But anyway, I did, and stripped all the leaves, and still didn’t have as much fresh mint as the recipe suggested. So, perhaps it should have had a mintier kick to it, but the soup was still delicious. It’s a Silver Palate recipe, which they very aptly describe as rich & elegant.

4 tbspns unsalted butter

2 cups finely chopped onion

Melt the butter in a large heavy saucepan over low heat. Add onions, cover, & cook until tender & lightly coloured, about 25 minutes.

10 oz frozen chopped spinach, defrosted

3 cups chicken stock

10 oz frozen peas, defrosted

Drain the spinach & squeeze out excess liquid. Pour stock into saucepan, add peas & spinach. Bring to boil, reduce heat & simmer, partially covered, about 20 minutes.

2 loosely packed cups fresh  mint leaves

Add to the saucepan. Cover. Simmer. About 5 minutes. Pour soup though strainer, reserving the liquid. Put solids into food processor along with a cup of cooking stock. Process till smooth. Return pureed soup to the saucepan, add a cup of cream and the rest of the cooking stock (or as much as you want to get the consistency you want). Season with salt & pepper, reheat, and serve. Which I did with a dollop of whipped cream in the centre and chopped mint leaves for garnish.

Anyway, this was pretty easy, relatively inexpensive, and delicious. Definitely a keeper.

Winter entertaining

The past two or three months have been a fairly torrid time at work, so it’s great to feel I’m finally emerging from that into a somewhat saner period, one where there’s time to catch up with friends. Not quite sure how long it’s been since we had friends for dinner, but that changed the other night, and the meal displayed a heavy reliance of The Silver Palate Cookbook.  Have praised that cookbook before, though don’t use it a lot. Perhaps the meals are a bit fiddly for every day eating? Was a whole day in the kitchen, really, preparing for the evening. Not something I’d want to do on a regular basis, though I enjoyed it. But anyway, the menu … 

Minted sweet pea & spinach soup

Winter pork & fruit ragout + kumara & carrot puree + mesclun salad with raspberry vinaigrette

Ruth Pretty’s lemon & blueberry delicious pudding

 Lemon delicious was a family favourite, and I must get Mum’s recipe … it’s better than this, which was the only part of the menu not from that cookbook … I thought it’d be a good contrast to the rest, though find this one a tad sweet. But the easy mixing with the food processor does recommend this recipe. 

60 gms butter, diced & at room temperature

1 ½ cups caster sugar

3 eggs, separated

3 tbspn self-raising flour (I accidentally put ordinary flour into the mix, but happily realized before hitting the pulse button … was able to scrape it off and add the right stuff, otherwise the pud may have been a bit pancake-y)

1 ½ cups milk

4 tbsp lemon juice

4 tspn lemon zest

2/3 cup blueberries 

Pre-heat oven to 180 C. Grease a 29 cm oval gratin. In the food processor, put butter & sugar, process till pale & creamy. Add egg yolks & process for a minute. Add flour & milk and process to make a smooth batter … the batter’s quite liquid … you need to scrape mixture form the sides of the bowl & process again to mix properly. Add lemon juice & zest … pulse … transfer all to a bowl. In another bowl, whish egg whites to soft peals. Fold into batter with a metal spoon. Pour batter into gratin dish … sprinkle with blueberries … fresh or frozen. Stand gratin in roasting tray and pour in hot water to come halfway up sides. Place in oven for 25 – 35 minutes till set but still wobbly. Dust with icing sugar, serve with whipped cream.

Simple but delicious

I’m not sure why people need recipes for stews and casseroles. They’re fairly basic, and open to endless variation. That said, however, this recipe in Shonagh Koea’s book did strike me as worth a shot. Am always attracted to anything that promises to be simple. And, as she says, this proved very simple but oddly delicious, when we ate it with mashed spud & broccoli.

500 gms blade steak

2 large onions, halved & sliced

150 ml beef stock

1 dessertspoon Worcestershire sauce

salt & pepper

Heat a little oil in a pan, brown the meat on both sides & transfer to a casserole. Then fry onions in same pan to brown them slightly. Arrange over meat, season, pour on Worcestershire sauce & stock. Cover and cook in pre-heated 160 C oven for 2 or 3 hours. Add a little more liquid if it starts to dry out … it ends up a fairly dry casserole, anyway.

Marmalade loaf

After dinner we thought it’d be good to have something sweet. You’re good at knocking something together, said Lawrence, hopefully. But no cream, no ice cream in the house, so no quick sauces tonight. Instead I thought of Shonagh’s marmalade loaf. 

225 gms self-rasing flour

1 level tspn ground mace (I have no idea what mace is – apart from a pepper spray for deterring attackers – but oddly enough we had some)

100 gms butter

100 gms brown sugar

a beaten egg

4 tbspns marmalade

4 tbspns milk

Grease and line a loaf tin. Sift the flour and mace into a bowl. Rub in the butter until the mixture looks like fine crumbs. Stir in the sugar, egg, marmalade & milk. Turn the mix into the tin and level the top. Bake at 180 C for about an hour (though for me it was 40 minutes & even that was a bit long; maybe the size of the loaf tin is a variable there, but I wasn’t using a large one). Turn out onto wire rack while warm & brush with 2 tbspns marmalade. 

The result was very fine-textured & dry, afternoon tea quality really, but rather tasty. I had expected something a little moister, perhaps a little coarser in texture. And maybe with a home-made marmalade, or a better quality one, the result would have been different again. Pam’s breakfast marmalade (a supermarket brand) is perhaps not quite the thing. Still, if not quite as delicious as expected, I probably will make this again. So, a cautious tick.

The Kindness of Strangers

Have just finished Shonagh Koea’s The Kindness of Strangers: Kitchen Memoirs. Remember positive reviews of it when it came out, and a friend in our book group lent it to me last week. Have read some of Koea’s novels before … portraits of women of a certain age & class dealing with loneliness and loss … made me think that Koea is perhaps NZ’s version of Anita Brookner … Enjoyed them, but after reading about three I didn’t have any desire to read more … a certain sameness set in. However, this memoir is more of a foodie book … essays about her life, the echoes of her life in her fiction, and her recipes. I’ve often thought that if I were ever to write a memoir, I’d want recipes in it. So I approved. And before I return the book must try one or two … the idea of marmalade loaf for breakfast appeals. Thoughtfully, the publisher provided a recipe index to the book, so I can dip in & out if I want.

Simply Paris

It was a weekend for brunches, and on Sunday, for a change, to Simply Paris, also in Cuba Street. They catered a book launch when Stephanie de Montalk published her novel, that’s how I first discovered them, and the food was stunningly good. So I pop in from time to time, but very infrequently. It’s an odd thing, perhaps, but in NZ Italian food seems to be the vogue cuisine … a couple of years ago I carried out a linguistic landscape research project, which entails looking at the public signs in a defined area, and was surprised to find that (the word ‘café’ aside) it was Italian rather than French cuisine that was being referenced in the food business signs … I think perhaps it may relate to our coffee culture … latte  sounds so much more sophisticated than café au lait … that’s sort of old hat, vaguely redolent of a skin forming as the drink cools. But, that aside, Simply Paris was busy on Sunday … the morning after the All Blacks vs France game. In the French team’s honour, a life-sized chocolate rooster resplendent on the counter. And I had a simple breakfast, toasted baguette with jam & butter, and a croissant, the largest I’ve EVER seen. The others both had eggs and, full marks, the yolks of the poached eggs actually ran. Flowed golden & delicious when cut. Unlike the eggs yesterday at Caffe Italiano. And unlike the Govett Brewster café in New Plymouth. Such a simple thing, but getting it right makes a big difference to eating enjoyment.

Italian brunch

It’s been a while since we’ve been to Caffe Italiano in Cuba Street … less inclination to go out, I suppose, as the days shorten & the weather worsens, and (I confess) I discovered it’s a bit of a chain with (I think) three locations in Wellington … but anyway, arranged to meet friends there for brunch. Pleased to see the menu changes with the seasons, even if that means former favourites disappear.  But no disappointment with my choice – Parma ham, roasted quartered mushrooms, fresh buffalo mozzarella & rocket with toasted focaccio … good flavours, and a nice freshness to the dish.

Pumpkin soup

Winter and soups do go together. And the other day I found the pumpkin soup recipe that my mother gave me, probably when I first went flatting … so this is a recipe from the heyday of pumpkin soup, maybe 30 years ago!

          Cut the pumpkin into roasting size pieces, and boil with as little water as possible, along with ¾ tspn salt and a chopped onion. When soft, blend into a puree, not using too much water – you can always add more. (Actually, if you get it right, there’s almost no surplus liquid anyway.)

          Make a roux from a tbspn butter and a tbspn flour, then add the pureed pumpkin, nutmeg, salt & (white) pepper, and chicken stock. Thin with milk, and garnish with freshly chopped parsley when serving.

          Today though, I did learn a valuable lesson. Label things in the freezer! The (what I thought was) home-made chicken stock was actually a beef & red wine reduction! So, an unexpectedly interesting taste combination. Not one I’d recommend, but with fresh baguette from the very good bakery near the Sunday market, itself the source of the pumpkin, it wasn’t a bad lunch.

Sounds eating III

It’s been a wonderful time here in the Sounds, again. Cold, of course, but that’s to be expected at this time of the year, and a great excuse for open fires. Lots to do outdoors, not least of which the many hydrangeas to prune, but it’s very satisfying, knowing that you’re getting the garden ready for the next summer’s display, and the weather’s been brilliant … so calm, clear skies … today, admittedly, there was light rain until after lunch, but such a Swallows & Amazons feel to the day … I just had to jump in a dinghy and go for a row.

In the garden it’s a pretty dormant time … all the summer flowerers have long finished, and apart from the very earliest of the azaleas, too early for the spring show-offs … camellias, rhododendrons, most azaleas. Even the virtually perpetual rose, the old-fashioned Souvenir de Malmaison, has taken a break. Usually it can be relied on to provide beautifully scented blooms for the dining table. But right now the lucullia is in flower, so those lovely pink heads are a fine substitute … they remind me of my grandmother, said Lawrence. They’re that sort of flower, reminiscent of a different time. Which is, appropriately, part of the appeal of this place.

And then, of course, there is the food. The standards … sausages on the first night, corn fritters, Pestell’s bacon … but a lunch-time favourite stands out … sliced Portobello mushrooms, pan-fried in butter with garlic, freshly gathered roughly chopped parsley added towards the end, served on warm plates with triangles of buttered Vogel’s bread toast (I relented!) … just the most perfect of combinations.

 

Bakewell tart II

After making the Bakewell tart the other night, and feeling a little disappointed with the result, I decided to do a bit of research … and how does everyone do research nowadays? They google, of course. The first thing that struck me, from the images that appeared, other recipes clearly used shortcrust rather than puff pastry. Okay, that made sense. What else? It originated in a village called Bakewell, in Devon. It’s sometimes called tart, sometimes a pudding, but that’s a bit class-dependent. Oh, and there are MANY different recipes. In the end, though, I plumped for one attributed to Jamie Oliver …a couple of times I’ve caught him on telly, and he always makes things seem so simple & intuitive. The way I like to cook. But anyway, so here we are in the Sounds again, time to concoct desserts. A time to try and make improvements.

But, the first thing I have to say, Jamie Oliver, is that I am not going to make my own pastry. I’m sure that, with vanilla bean & lemon zest, your pastry is scrumptious … but I can’t be bothered, when I can buy my pastry at the supermarket.

So, that out of the way, I did roll out my pie crust and prepare it as Jamie recommended, but made one other change … his recipe calls for 12 oz of whole blanched almonds … d’ye know the cost of almonds in New Zealand, wee Jamie!! I decided to make do with two 70g packs of ground almonds … more than double the amount in the previous recipe, after all.

 All right, now for the recipe, from the point where I’ve rolled out my store-bought pastry and put it in the freezer for an hour …

1. Preheat oven to 175 C, and bake pastry case for about 15 minutes (until lightly golden). Remove from the oven, and turn down heat to 160C.
2. Jamie says the first step in making the frangipane (not a flower, apparently!) is to blitz the expensive almonds to a fine powder & put in a bowl … I put my ground almonds straight in the bowl.
3. Jamie then says to blitz 1 cup + 5 tbspn of unsalted butter (which I reckon to be about 700 gms) with a cup of sugar until light & creamy. Well, no food processors here, so a case of old-fashioned creaming the butter & sugar with a wooden spoon. Thank goodness for a strong right arm! Once done, add to the almonds along with 3 lightly beaten eggs, and fold in till completely mixed and smooth. Place in fridge to firm up.
4. Smear 6 tbspns of strawberry jam over the bottom of the pastry case, pour the frangipane mix on top & sprinkle with some sliced blanched almonds. Bake for around 40 minutes, until the almond mixture has become firm and golden on the outside, still soft in the centre.
5. Allow to cool for 30 minutes, serve with whipped cream. 

 And this, even with my modifications, was certainly more impressive than the one the other night. It was though, a bit eggy to taste … maybe Jamie’s extravagant almonds would have made the difference? Interestingly enough, however, I had a quick look in the Edmonds Cookbook – circa 1960 – that’s kept in the pantry here, and noted that their recipe was for little tartlets & contained no almonds at all. So, verily, MANY variations possible. I may try one more time … BUT if the secret is truly 12 oz of almonds, I’m not sure the tart is worth the cost of making.