June 1, 2015 § 2 Comments
The sun was shining with so much intensity when I left Toulouse. I am not sure if I was imaging it or not, but the tomatoes growing on our balcony seemed to be gaining an inch a day. Everything, including me was pushing up and reaching for the summer. On my last night, we sat there together, my feet in his lap, eating asparagus with French cheese and wine, looked out over the balcony to the canal. Nostalgia deep in my heart. I missed him before I even left.
Take a bunch of fresh asparagus and cut off the woody ends. Place 1 teaspoon of butter and 1 1/2 teaspoons oil in a large saucepan set on medium high heat. Once the oil is hot, add just enough asparagus to comfortably cover the bottom of the pan and gently sauté tossing every now and again so that all the sides become lightly browned. If you want you can place a lid on top of the pan to steam them a little as well. After 2 – 3 minutes add 2 cloves freshly crushed garlic and salt and pepper to taste. Continue cooking until the asparagus are just beginning to soften but still are bright green with a light crunch. Transfer to a plate and drizzle with a touch of balsamic vinegar. Repeat the process until all your asparagus are gone. Serve with some crusty bread and enjoy.
December 2, 2014 § 2 Comments
I spent the most part of September off the east coast of Maine on a small Island called Deer. The home of two very very dear friends who I had come to visit and celebrate with in their wedding. I slept in an old combi van parked in the little clearing made in the birch and cedar forest where the newly weds were building their house. I woke each morning to smoking white breath, a body just warm enough under a pile of thick blankets and my ears slowly attuning to the sounds of the morning; – the distant fog horn; the creep of the mist through the bays and forested islands; the sun unfurling the slender fern fronds. There my heart grew a certain happy glow from sipping on 44 north coffee, swimming in icy waters, eating my fair share of apricot pie, AND freshly picked homegrown delicatas baked with butter, maple syrup and crystallised ginger (thanks to new friends for teaching me just how good this could be!). This is the recipe I am sharing with you today, straight from the oven it shines gold like a piece of heaven itself – and it is all of that and more in your mouth.
Because I had never heard of delicatas before going to America and I am guessing you might not have either, I have substituted delicata for pumpkin which, without sounding as exotic, tastes almost as good. But if you can get your hands on some I suggest giving them a go. A note to those in the Norhtern Hemisphere – this is the time to look – that is – autumn to early winter.
Maple syrup and butter baked pumpkins with walnuts and crystallised ginger
Enough organic grown pumpkin (or delicatas) to cover a large backing tray (about ½ – 3/4 of a medium sized pumpkin)
2 – 3 tablespoons pure maple syrup
1 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons roughly chopped walnuts
1/3 cup crystallised ginger pieces chopped to the size of your liking
Salt and Pepper to taste
Pre heat your oven to 200 degrees C/400 degrees F.
Chop your pumpkin/delicatas, skin and all, into big bite sized chunks (I always leave the skin on as it helps hold the flavour and the juices).
Spread on a lightly greased backing tray.
Gently heat the oil, butter and maple syrup in a saucepan until the butter is just melted. Drizzle over the pumpkin.
Sprinkle with the walnuts and ginger, season with salt and pepper and give a light toss.
Pop in the oven and roast, stirring once or twice, until tender and beginning to brown. About 30 minutes.
August 6, 2014 § 2 Comments
The anthropogenic nature of this city strikes me after the wildness of Darwin. Ever built, ever manmade, ever hard surfaced under foot. Even the flow of the Seine tamed between stone walls. But in Paris, its difficult not to embrace the human geography. There too is a deep and wild beauty embedded in history and culture. The churches the mountains of a rugged urban landscape. Green strolling parks made as if for falling in love. Ages built on ages, a close, closed intimate city, intimate within itself. Smells of flowers and fish, cheese and strawberries.
One evening I watch a string quintet playing the movements of Vivaldi in an old chapel with high reaching stained glass windows. Tall and majestic, the coloured walls reach up to create a cocoon for the music to bounce off. Intimacy again, its as if the music is coming from my very own body. The reflections of the colour and the sound so near to perfect, my love for the city is convinced.
And July is a beautiful time to be in Paris, especially late evening when the dusk starts creeping in, the light gentle and gold as it turns to the blue hour. The evening sky against the city is full of smell, of touch, of sight , of colour. All things possibly tangible. Another moment close to perfect, this precious dusk time. A quiet stillness above the hum of the city – above the gentle clatter of the dinner plates and the red wine voices that echo across terrace laden rooftops. And with these slow extended light summer evenings of Europe, these magic moments appear to last forever. They move so slowly, and you appear to be caught between them.
May 25, 2014 § 3 Comments
I have almost been living off this drink the last 6 months. Served ice cold and sipped on the verandah in the evenings, the colour matching the turmeric setting sky. Its gently spicy and refreshing in a heart warming kind of way. AND, its body pleasing too. Turmeric has great anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties and is wonderful for settling an upset tummy. Interestingly, when served with black pepper the bioavailability of curcumin – its active ingredient – is enhanced 1000 times.
Iced Turmeric Tea
1 tsp powdered turmeric or 2 Tbsp fresh grated turmeric
2 – 3 Tbsp fresh grated ginger
A handful of freshly cut lemongrass (2 Tbsp of dry lemongrass tea would work too)
1 tsp peppercorns
2 Litres boiling water
Place all ingredients in a large bowl or glass jug. Pour over boiling water and allow to seep until cool. You will end up with a rich tonic that you can then store in the fridge. To serve, add around 2 shots of tonic to 1 cup cold water or mineral water and squeeze in some fresh lemon or lime.
November 24, 2013 § 3 Comments
Three years ago to this day I started a blog, inspired by living and working as a cook at Friendly Beaches Lodge and, of all things, an article in a Jetstar inflight magazine about blogging. Before I read the article, I didn’t even know what a blog was (yes, mainly becuase I had been living under a rock in Tasmania). Whilst I don’t remember exactly what the article was about, I do remember that something in me stirred and at 25 000 feet above the Bass Strait en route to Melbourne I decided to start a blog. It would be a food blog, with stories and recipes and a focus on sustainable, local, seasonal, unplugged cooking. But, most importantly it would be a place to keep me creative, to force me into the kitchen and taking photos, a place to try to pull words from my thoughts and scrawl them on a blank screen. And so I wrote, “What better thing to do on a hot spring day than start a food blog…” 3 days later I was unexpectedly on a plane to Sierra Leone and my “food blog” was momentarily hijacked by travel stories.
Since then I have often enjoyed, occasionally hated, been frustrated, exhilarated, both ashamed and very proud of this place. I have tried very hard to be honest with myself and have had to learn to be brave, to throw words out to the world and that strangely intimidating public realm. But here I am with 3 years of stories from my wooden spoon and my favourite blue ceramic pot. I am so grateful to each of you who have read this blog. You who have put up with my terrible spelling and my often flippant nature in the kitchen, thank you so much. It humbles me no end to think that I may sometimes write something that someone wants to read and cook something that someone wants to cook.
A small cause for celebration, here are some of the recipes from the last three years that I love the most.
November 8, 2013 § 2 Comments
A few weeks back I went to Melbourne for a friend’s wedding in East Gippsland. There on a small property amongst the green and rolling hills we walked up to the top of a ridge, the sun golden and almost setting, to share with them their love and vows of togetherness and foreverness. I was so moved by the graciousness of love on that day, not just in the space between them, but also amongst us, all their friends, who each shared in that love for them. What a thing to celebrate! I danced until 4am in the morning and could barely move the next day, but my sore calves were a welcome reminder of the joy we can find between each other.
As you can probably guess there was cake involved… 15 different kinds to be precise. Each guest was asked to bring a plate for dinner, and most of us being most of us, naturally wanted to bring cake.
The cake I have for you today is a Persian Love Cake. With a name like that, could you really resist? In Persia, this cake is cooked by a mother in law for her daughters husband to be. The story goes, that once he eats the cake he will fall madly in love and they will have a happy marriage.
Thanks to Gourmet traveller and a dear friend for introducing me to this cake. I haven’t looked back!
Recipe for Persian Love Cake
360 gm (3 cups) almond meal
220 gm (1 cup) raw sugar (I used a bit less)
220 gm (1 cup) brown sugar (I used a bit less)
120 gm unsalted butter, softened
2 eggs, lightly beaten
250 gm Greek-style yoghurt, plus extra to serve
1 tbsp freshly grated nutmeg
45 gm (¼ cup) pistachios, coarsely chopped (optional)
Preheat your oven to 180C. Combine almond meal, sugars, butter and 1 tsp salt in a bowl, then rub with fingertips until coarse crumbs form. Spoon half the mixture into a lightly buttered and lined 26cm-diameter springform pan, gently pressing to evenly cover base.
Add egg, yoghurt and nutmeg to remaining crumble mixture and beat with a wooden spoon until smooth and creamy. Pour over prepared base, smooth top and scatter pistachios around the edge. The recipe says to bake for 30 -35 minutes. I baked mine for about 45 minutes. And its good to keep in mind that the cake can still be a bit soft in the middle. It will keep in an airtight container for up to a week.
September 28, 2013 § 3 Comments
I had a dismal attempt at trying to grow watermelons this year. The process started with me very excited. I made a little round bed full of compost and manure and planted two little seeds inside. They sprouted and grew… A little… I watered them and they grew some more. They bloomed tiny little flowers and even grew one tiny little watermelon. Then I went away and the little watermelon shrivelled up. Then the rest of the vine shrivelled. And one day they were dead. And that was that.
The sun is relentless here. Unforgiving. I realise my mistake, I shouldn’t have put them in a place that gets all day sun, and I should definitely have mulched them more.
But still, I have been managing to eat some of the very best watermellons I ever had. The local ones are cheep and abundant at this time of year. They are a deep bright pink and so so sweet.
So I have a recipe for you today, a drink, and a very refreshing one at that. It comes out of the beautiful cookbook The New Persian Kitchen. Its a watermelon, mint, and cider vinegar tonic!
Author Notes: “Even if drinking vinegar sounds like a dare — and maybe that’s why you ordered it — it’s anything but. It’s sweet and sour and icy-cold. It vibrates and clangs with fruit and vinegar, and soothes with sweetness and mint. It is the most refreshing drink you will have this summer”. From The New Persian Kitchen
Recipe for Watermelon Mint and Cider Vinegar Tonic
Makes about 5 cups concentrate
3 cups water, plus more to serve
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1 cup honey
6 cups coarsely chopped watermelon
1 cup tightly packed fresh mint, plus more to serve
1 cup apple cider vinegar (preferably with the mother because that is the best kind for you)
Ice cubes, cucumber, and lime to serve.
- Boil the water and salt in a medium saucepan. Add the honey and allow to dissolve before removing from the heat.
- Combine the watermelon and mint in a large bowl and stir in the hot honey water. Leave to cool to room temperature.
- Once cool, add the vinegar and allow the mixture to steep in the refrigerator for several hours or up to overnight.
- Strain the mixture and eat the watermelon chunks, if desired.
- Store the concentrate in a clean glass jar in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.
- To serve, pour 1/4 cup of the concentrate into a glass over ice and dilute with 3/4 cup water. Garnish with the watermelon, cucumber, and mint.