Pumpkin, Marmalade and Hazelnut Muffins

I did a shoot for a client recently creating Autumn content for her slow living platform. Amongst other things one of the headline features of her work is food so as you can imagine there was a lot of conversation around seasonality.

We worked on one of those beautiful trans-seasonal days where the ends of summer nudge up against a budding autumn. Cool mornings and earlier sunsets bookend the days, the first of the leaves have started to turn threaded with veins of warm tones and our appetite for autumnal foods stretches from its hibernation. Our Sicilian feast featured, amongst other delights, rich ruby coloured stewed pears, apple cake (my favourite) and some delicious vegetable jewelled salads. It was a delight to shoot such beautiful heartfelt recipes and of course ‘clean them up’ afterwards. Tough job but someone’s gotta do it and all that. In the days that followed, as I sat at my desk editing, the conversation around seasonal eating and food shopping rattled around my head. These conversations with clients seem to rise to the top in my thoughts while I edit guiding my work, but this time I found myself thinking far deeper. How on earth do we eat seasonally in a have it now world where we can manipulate nature to deliver whatever our hearts desire precisely when we do? Tomatoes in the depths of winter sure aren’t as sweet and plump having matured in football field sized hot houses but when you want a fresh tomato you want a fresh tomato right? Then there’s some foods that flat out can’t be engineered to appear on our plates out of season without having their passports stamped jetting to our shops from crops across the oceans.

There’s all the usual commonly shared advice about shopping and eating with the seasons. Shopping at farmers markets, seeking out cheaper produce which usually denotes it’s abundance at market and therefore it’s time in season and of course the inherent knowledge of seasonality that many of us have. But with all this in mind I circled back to wondering how hard it actually is in a highly curated and engineered world to live by this in practice and resist the temptation to respond to an out of season craving.

I’m the first to put my hand up as one who does eat what I feel like, fresh tomatoes on toast on frosty winter mornings? Hell yeah. Soup in summer because I feel like it? Definitely! But I’m also the first to seize on figs when they appear at the green grocer. Carefully carrying the prized plump, soft, vulnerable globes in one hand awkwardly steering the trolley with my other hand, I’ll indulge every week until they disappear from the shelves. And when those spheres of sunshine in the form of mangoes start appearing? Get out of my way sista, they’re mine!!

While all of this is definitely seasonal shopping and eating what I did realise from all this ponderous behaviour was that quite possibly seasonal eating starts in the tummy. In our hot summers we often don’t feel like eating or feel like just having something lite. We reach for salads and seafood making the most of that which is abundant to us and which our climate and location does a wonderful job of creating. As the seasons turn our appetites return. We feel cold and need warming up and start yearning for soups, casseroles and puddings to fuel our body’s internal thermostat. And of course, the ingredients for all these are indeed driven by nature’s cycles our appetites, blooming with the crops that will feed them.

Whilst the idea for these muffins has been at the back of my mind for a while, it sat in summer hibernation. I just couldn’t see the wood for the trees and let it bloom while mango juice dripped through my fingers and I imagined dinners of juicy tomato salads.

But as the crisp mornings have greeted me on morning walks recently I’ve noticed a yearning for the flavours of the season and started cooking some of those warmer delights. So bloom, these muffins have. Autumnal sweet pumpkin roasted first, marmalade and crunchy hazelnuts all meld together to make a light muffin with a spiced streusel flavour cap on top that dust your fingers as it crumbles. Don’t be put off by what seems a longish list of bits and bobs below or a fiddly step in the middle, it’s so worth it and makes the first delicious bite with a warm drink all the more wroth it.

If you’re not a marmalade fan like I wasn’t for the first 45 years of my life, try subbing in apricot jam. It will still play tart foil to the sweet pumpkin without the bitterness of marmalade.

Streusel:

1/3 c plain flour

1/3 c brown sugar

½ tsp ground cinnamon

½ tsp ground ginger

¼ tsp salt flakes

40 gm butter

1 tb finely chopped hazelnut pieces (I buy them pre chopped, but you do you. If chopping your own go slowly to try and achieve small similarly sized pieces.)

Ingredients:

200 gm pumpkin peeled and cubes into small pieces around 1-1.5 cms

2 c plain flour

¼ c plain wholemeal flour

1 tsp ground cinnamon

½ tsp ground ginger

½ tsp grated nutmeg

¼ tsp ground cardamon

¾ tsp salt flakes

½ c brown sugar

2 tsp baking powder

½ tsp bicarb soda

¼ c hazelnuts lightly chopped in large pieces

½ c oil of your choice, I use whatever I have, if you prefer olive oil go for it, if you lightly flavoured also fine. There’s enough flavour in the spices to mask a strongly flavoured oil like extra virgin.

2 eggs beaten

1 tsp vanilla

¾ milk of your choice. Non-dairy works fine here if that’s your preference.

2 Tb marmalade. If yours is chunky or the peel in long strands you may need to cut them. I leave the measured amount in a small bowl and plunge clean kitchen scissors in to snip them to smaller more manageable sized pieces.

Method:

Line a 12 hole muffin tray with muffin cases.

Preheat oven to 190c.

Toss cubed pumpkin in 2-3 tsps of olive oil. Spread in one layer on a lined baking sheet and roast in the oven for 15 minutes or until just soft and mashable with a fork. Allow to cool.

Combine streusel ingredients, except hazelnut pieces, and rub butter in until completely combined and resembling wet sand. Using your fingers mix in hazelnut pieces. Refrigerate until required.

In a large bowl combine all dry ingredients for the muffins and stir with a whisk to thoroughly combine. In a second bowl combine oil, eggs, vanilla and milk and whisk.

Halve roasted pumpkin pieces and mash one half reserving the other in whole cubes. Whisk the mashed pumpkin into the wet ingredients.

Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients, pour in the combined wet ingredinets and gently fold together until dry ingredients are almost combined. Over the top of the batter dollop drops of marmalde and give the mixture a few more gentle folds.

Take your prepared muffin tray and half fill each case with batter. Top each case of batter with a few cubes of pumpkin, roughly 3-4 each, then top muffin with the remaining batter. Don’t worry too much if the pumpkin cubes aren’t all covered as the streusel will sort this out. Sprinkle streusel over each muffin evenly using up most if not all of the streusel. Pop in the oven 25-30 minutes or until a skewer comes out clea,

Serve warm with butter because YUM or store cooled in an air tight container.

Apricot and Cardamon Sweet Buns

Earlier this week I was coaxed out early in the morning for my walk by the sudden burst of warm spring weather. My usual listening wasn’t available at the earlier hour so I searched for a podcast to keep me distracted. I was up to date on all my usual favourites so thought I’d search for something new and landed on this one. Listening to Ruth and Julia chat all things food was obviously right up my alley but the premise of the podcast and where that went was of greater interest. Julia invites older women (she’s 61) on Wiser Than Me, to chat about life and what it’s taught them. I was taken with the conversation enjoying listening to Ruth’s recollections on her career in food writing, but one statement jumped out at me, “the only thing that really keeps you young, is constantly doing things you don’t know how to do.” Somewhere in my subconscious I knew this to be so. We’re advised to do puzzles, learn a language or even a musical instrument to stay young, but hearing an older woman (she’s 75) who I admire, state it as her greatest piece of life advice brought it to the surface.

Also this week this substack dropped. I love reading Kate’s words, always beautiful describing her world and observations in a captivating and artful way. She described her experience of being stopped in her tracks, quite literally while driving from home through country Victoria, by the captivating site of a landscape jewelled by shades of gold and emerald. This moment in time that drew her to the roadside to inhale the ‘wonder’ of its beauty was the theme for her ponderings this week. Wonder and it’s importance in life, in moments and in the everyday. It felt both fitting and in keeping with the thoughts of Ruth. Wonder and knowledge and a fulfilling life.

A month or so ago I enrolled in and began an online course to improve my baking skills called The Science of Baking. I have a reasonable knowledge base for baking but lots of gaps and no real understanding of the chemistry of the ingredients I use and how everything interacts. Working my way through this course has been both enlightening and exciting. I know, very geeky of me but we all have our thing right? Anyway what’s been most exciting is the learning, joining the dots, filling the gaps and gasping at all the ‘lightbulb’ moments. Whilst educational it’s been enlightening and invigorating.

With a lifelong innate sense of curiosity flavour ideas often come to mind. Some work, some don’t. Sometimes my curiosity is driven by an unusual recipe with an ingredient combination I may not have previously tried or one I can’t even imagine tasting. Like the ‘Secret Ingredient Spaghetti” recipe, spoiler alert, dark chocolate in Spaghetti Bolognese doesn’t work. Other times classic combinations reimagined into something new is a delight and revelation all its own.

My newly acquired skills have inspired many flavour ponderings recently. Often popping in my head in the middle of the night, hi there hot flushes and insomnia, remembering these can be a challenge, “sit down brain fog.” Sometimes though I do manage to retain the idea and see it through to fruition.

Golden tangy apricots came to mind when my face was warmed by all this premature balmy weather. Juice dripping from glowing orbs one of summer’s great joys. But alas not yet. Still weeks to go until they, with their orchard fruit family, appear in stores, but the dried variety are ever present and available. Richer in flavour I remembered enjoying them in a sweet, yeasted bun as a child, encased in fluffy sweet dough and drizzled with white chocolate, they were a favourite bakery treat. As is my wont however, and armed with my burgeoning knowledge of yeast and wheat I pondered a reimaging of sorts of my much-loved childhood favourite. Imagining a more mature flavour pairing than the one of my youth I mixed and measured, waited and shaped and waited again. Like that child with anticipation, I perched near my oven, its light on, peering through the glass watching the ‘show’ of yeast, sugar and all their comrades at play growing into plump, fluffy yeasted buns of my own.

And there it was…wonder!

The union of learning and wonder colliding to create delight and awe. The invigorating realisation that at any step in our day and journey there’s always something round every corner to learn and take our breath away.

Seeing an idea evolve to a successful completion is a wonder all its own and one urge you to try. Don’t be shy of trying to cook with yeast. It’s an ingredient that can intimidate even the most skilled and experienced cook but one that is the root of some the most delicious foods in life and that has endured throughout centuries.

Ingredients:

Buns:

120 gm Dried apricots, roughly chopped

500 gm bread flour

3 tsps dried yeast

½ tsp all spice

2 tsp ground cardamon

80 gm golden caster sugar (white is fine if that’s all you have)

100 gm of very soft butter

200ml of room temp milk (you can microwave this for 30 seconds if you’re in a rush or baking spontaneously)

2 eggs, room temp again please

50 gm candied citrus peel

Finely grated zest of one orange

1 heaped tsp salt flakes

Icing:

2/3 c icing sugar

2 Tb sour cream

2 tsp orange juice from the zested orange.

Method:

In a small bowl cover apricots in boiling water, set aside to soak while you prepare your other ingredients.

In the bowl of a stand mixer combine all other ingredients. Drain, apricots and press you’re your hand to squeeze out remaining liquid and add to the bowl with other ingredients.

Set stand mixer to med low until all dry ingredients are amalgamated, 1-2 minutes, then increase speed to med and knead for 8 minutes. It’s quite a sticky dough, don’t be tempted to add flour, just let it do its thing. I like to stop a couple times during this part and scrape the sides down to help things along.

While the dough is mixing, grease a large glass bowl with butter (see notes), set aside.

When kneading is complete, turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Again, don’t be tempted to add more flour, just a light sprinkling if it needs help to not stick to the bench and your hands. Give the dough a light knead by hand just to make sure the fruit is evenly distributed. Place smooth side up in the greased bowl loosely covered with cling wrap and set aside in a warm draft free spot to prove until double in size.. see notes.

If proving in the oven, remove. Preheat oven to 180c and line a baking tray with baking paper.

When doubled in size (about two hours) turn out onto a lightly floured surface again. The greasing in the bowl should help this along. Gently divide the dough into 12 equal sized pieces shaping into ball shapes. Line up on the tray and leave in a warm spot again with a tea towel over the top. This will let them puff up slightly and relax after being handled. Rest them for 30 minutes.

Brush with an egg wash and bake for 30 minutes.

Allow to cool completely and ice with combined icing ingredients. You may like to sprinkle with roasted almond flakes or toasted coconut flakes.

Or you could rip one open hot and slather in butter and enjoy with the oozy butter running between your fingers, your choice.

Notes:

If it’s cooler where you are or you lack a warm spot for your dough try this tip. Turn the light on in your oven when it first occurs to you to cook buns. The ambient warmth from the light will be just right for a consistent temperature to help your yeast along and of course an oven is guaranteed draft free.

While your dough is in the mixer fill the glass bowl with hot tap water to warm it up. The dough will be a nice temp from mixing to kick off the proving process, warming the bowl first ensures the dough isn’t ‘shocked’ by being transferred to a cold bowl.

Strawberry Yoghurt Mousse

In her most excellent newsletter this week, Kate Mildenhall reflected on reading and the role it plays in her personal and professional lives. Celebrating her passion for the ‘pastime’ from childhood through to adulthood she also recognised its now important function in her profession as a fiction author. One of the things she noted was the genesis of her characters. Quoting Maggie McKellar’s brilliant book Graft in which, when citing works used in the construction of her book, she says, “This book stands on a library…” Struck by the quote Kate goes on to reflect on her own work and reading. Whilst acknowledging the seeds of her two protagonists in her latest book, her two daughters, she also reflects on characters previously in tomes previously read and the “DNA” in the catalogue of her own internal reading library. The evolution of all the characteristics of those fictional individuals perhaps swirling around and melding into new characters, drawing different qualities from all those personalities on the page and reimagined into new ones.

On the other side of the country, bathed in sun, toes in the red dirt of The Kimberley dear friends are holidaying in Broome. We’ve holidayed with our friends frequently and as happens we have many ‘in jokes’ from our adventures. Technology being what it is postcards aren’t the method by which folks stay in touch on holidays rather we send each other quick messages, perhaps including a phone snap to share with a pal we think they may like or be amused by. Sharing a couple of photos with me in a message, my friend sent a photo for my husband and one for me. They’d visited an historical site sharing an image of aeroplane wreckage for hubby and one of CWA memorabilia for me featuring recipes from long ago. The ones captured were concoctions created by women living in remote Australia perhaps tapping into their culinary creativity with whatever was available in the store cupboard. As is my wont I zoomed in on those snippets of food history, curious to read the food writing and instructions and most importantly the recipe. ‘Amy Johnston Cake’ caught my attention, my food and recipe writer brain immediately clicking into gear. Deciphering the instructions of B. Andrews of Newstead I imagined what “a little milk…..fairly thinly……1 teacup….1 breakfast cup” all looks like. What do they weigh or measure too, and how thin is fairly thin? Translation aside it all sounds delicious and one I will work on and share. Which leads to my thought that, this is the recipe of another, one that I’ll play with and meld to a modern language and help evolve to something with measurements and instructions longer than that which fits into a letter to an editor of an organisation’s traditional newsletter, but still, the creation of B Newstead. Or is it? Is it one whispered to her in haste at the school gate amongst parents collecting kids or passed down from a favourite aunt? Or is it one carrying the DNA of hundreds of previous recipes she read or cooked or ate. Is it one she thought required a tweak here or there. A touch of flavour from her tastes and preferences. How far back in the narrative of her personal cooking ‘library’ could she indeed travel to record the history of this cake?

At her recent event in Melbourne Nigella Lawson was asked how she felt about people changing or tweaking her recipes. Sadly I don’t remember her exact words but very much do her sentiment. She reminded her audience that like them she’s a home cook and that’s how we cook and create. That, as new ingredients become widely available and understood we add them to our cooking, to the recipes we already know. Likewise as our skills grow we try new things and tweak, this way and that to both suit our skill sets and what we prefer. Reassuringly she loved the idea that her writing gave readers the platform to go forth and tap into their intellectual libraries and create new dishes.

As a child one of my favourite desserts was chocolate mousse. Whenever we went out to dinner as a family I would always order a dish of the brown fluffy pudding to end my meal. These nights were rare, always to celebrate something and enjoyed after mum and dad had saved their pennies to indulge in such revelries. As such as you can imagine we ordered special dishes, always our favourites and for me no such outing was complete without the full stop of mousse. I often couldn’t really fit it in and would pass half a glass to my dear old dad who perhaps encouraged my largesse in the hope he would benefit from my child like stomach that clearly didn’t match my ambitious appetite.

Mousse remains a favourite or more precisely any creamy pudding really. So too does the notion of mingling recipes and ideas, creating new ones. As a young woman I worked for a small family catering company whose owner tried to teach me to make chocolate mousse. I’d watch with fascination as her gentle determined folds amalgamated the oozy melted chocolate mixture with fluffy whipped egg whites and stiff whipped cream. Her deft hand

would amalgamate the mixture to enticing silken mounds of chocolate clouds spooned into little bowls to set. Unfortunately, that recipe is filed under “recipes by wonderful older mentors I should have written down,” dear old Mavis having long ago left us. There’s a plethora of variations on the theme though, a theme I’ll gladly explore one day though with our boys moved on one I’d wind up eating on my own. My husband, whilst a firm chocolate lover, is not a fan of desserts flavoured with chocolate, he does however love anything flavoured with strawberry whilst I love anything creamy and set and am quite enamoured with anything reliable and versatile. Drawing on our wants and my internal library of flavours, textures and techniques, I offer you Strawberry Yoghurt Mousse. Like a favourite lipstick she’ll take you from breakfast all the way through to dessert, you can thank me later.

Should you be considering a mousse for breaky you can set these in a jar and sprinkle some crunchy breakfast accoutrements on top like granola or coconut chips like you would a chia pot. Alternatively set them in a pretty glass and top with more fruit, perhaps a drizzle of syrup of your chosen variety and whipped cream, or ice cream or any dessert like adornment that takes your fancy.

Ingredients:

1 c thick Greek yoghurt, preferably set not the smooth creamy Greek like version.

½ c of fully cream milk. I use almond milk so by all means you do you.

130 gm strawberries trimmed, hulled and roughly chopped pureed

¼ c honey

1 tsp vanilla extract

5 gm gelatine leaves, I use platinum, it’s the most readily available in sheet form at major supermarkets.

Method:

Clean and prepare four small glasses or dessert dishes suitable to hold the mousse as pictured. Each serve will make ¾c of mixture. Place them on a small tray suitable to place in the fridge, set aside.

Put the yoghurt in a large bowl and set aside. Fill a small jug or bowl with cold tap water and place gelatine sheets in to soak and soften for a few minutes until they feel soft and squishy. In a small saucepan combine milk, honey and vanilla and warm over a low flame until all combined and smooth. The mixture shouldn’t be hot only just warm. Remove gelatine leaves from the jug of cold water and squeeze out as much moisture as you can. Take the warm pot from the heat, drop the gelatine sheets into the warm milk mixture and stir continuously until completely combined and they’ve disappeared. I like to pour all of this into the jug I used for the water, this will help it cool faster if it’s out of the warm pot.

While the milk mixture is cooling use a balloon whisk to whip the yoghurt mixture like you would cream. It won’t gain the volume and structure of whipped cream but it will be smoother than set yoghurt and a little more voluminous with a few small bubbles of air and look like swoon worthy swirls. Add the strawberry puree and again whip vigorously combining thoroughly. Once amalgamated take your jug of cooled milk mixture and slowly pour into the yoghurt mixture all the while whipping well with your whisk to completely combine.

Pour the mixture evenly into your four prepared glasses and refrigerate for at least four hours to as much as overnight.

As I mentioned earlier you can use this for a fancy dessert and dress appropriately or as dessert. I love a little drizzle of pure maple syrup and perhaps even some curls of white chocolate for dessert or some crunchy granola for breaky.

If you’re catering to a crowd or prefer a larger serve this recipe will scale up very well by just doubling everything and using the size glasses you prefer.

Savoury Pizza Muffins

A few kilometres from my home the urban sprawl recedes, the land and fields opens up and rolling country hills emerge. As you crest the hill from which this view unfolds, you feel your shoulders fall, your lungs exhale and the rat race fall away. A belt of bushland and hobby farms scaped with eucalypts borders the divide between greater Melbourne and rural and agricultural valleys. As you emerge from that winding bush road at the top of the hills t that ring your first glimpse of the valley a the grid like pattern of vineyards and orchards unfolds, like a mosaic of jade and emerald toned tiles enriched by red volcanic soil. It’s the route we take most often when we head out exploring both for camping trips and weekend getaways. The one that draws me out rain hail or shine.

The divide between metropolitan Melbourne and regional Australia is just over five kilometres from our front door. Whilst it’s a well-worn and loved path for us drawing us out like a magnet it’s one that was, for a while, beyond our reach in recent years. That ‘while,’ the one Victorians endured during those most recent unmentionable years, the ones where we were asked to protect ourselves by remaining within a perimeter of a 5km radius of our homes. It was a period that the world over changed things for us all, some good, some not so good, some temporary some enduring. It’s a subject we could talk and write about infinitely. For us though one of the biggest ones that’s lasted for us has been my husband’s work from home routine. In my own work this is a mostly normal thing but for him it’s been a big change. His work life has taken him around the world, to oil rigs, mines and major infrastructure sites, so shrinking his professional life to a 10 square metre home office with a view of hour letter box has been a radical shift. During the period in which this was mandated and necessary it was acceptable and one we could all swallow. In the post lockdown world in which hybrid work arrangements are the new norm, living and working within the same four walls interminable can be a little harder to justify to yourself and therefore tolerate. The benefits do indeed outweigh the negatives like commuting and the like but sometimes those benefits still need balance.

The restlessness created, by a life lived in one location, sometimes needs attention at the end of the work week. If you’ve been reading my thoughts for a while, you may remember we’re now empty nesters which makes the weekends quiet. Perhaps the hubbub of living with young adults made our hours outside work fuller, they were certainly busier, nonetheless they’re quieter and makes the hours spent at home feel endless. Harking back to our pre-kids life where weekends were always busy in other ways, we’ve been trying to venture out a bit more. The lack of commuting fatigue we used to feel makes the prospect of a Sunday drive far more inviting than it used to be. Living as close as we do to beautiful countryside is a privilege that affords a huge range of beautiful places to explore. We’ve been taking advantage of that and exploring more, tourists in our backyard if you will. We’ve taken a few misty drives in nearby rainforest lined hills some where we’ve ultimately found some sunshine and some shrouded in gorgeous fog. As much as I love the hills in winter and all that gorgeous mist you really can’t beat a day trip in spring. One where you can head out somewhere new and undiscovered and find a spot to park the car and take a walk, find a new spot for lunch or set up somewhere scenic for a picnic.

All that talk last week of salads and sunshine made me think about a picnic or two in the coming months. I quite like the idea of whipping something up quickly on a Sunday morning after waking to sunshine and a good weather report. Nothing to tricky, just something that ticks all the boxes and can be packed in a basket quickly with a few extra bits like fruit and a thermos of coffee (for me, I’ve still not converted him) and a cosy blanket to spread out and relax on. Something like Savoury Pizza Muffins, a fluffy, oozy combo wrapping all the traditional flavours of a classic ham pizza. They’re pretty handy too for little fingers, hungry during school holidays and easy for said little fingers to make too…winning!

Ingredients:

100 gm butter melted

300 gr self-raising flour

1 tsp salt flakes

1 ½ tsp dried oregano leaves

100 gm fresh ham roughly chopped

200 gm grated hard cheese. I use a combo of sharp cheddar and parmigiano, but you can use anything you like that’s flavourful. It’s a good way to use up ends in the fridge.

4 spring onions/scallions chopped

2 eggs beaten

¼ c/60ml extra virgin olive oil

200 ml milk

¼ c pizza sauce. I just use a bought one usually and freeze the remaining if I don’t expect to use it quickly. Any remaining homemade sauce you have in the fridge to be used up is also fine.

Preheat oven 180c. Line a muffin tray with 12 liners and spray them with cooking spray. I don’t use spray very often but the cheese makes these a little sticky even with the liners.

Melt better in the microwave and set aside to cool while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

In a large bowl combine the flour, salt, oregano, cheese, ham and spring onion. In a smaller bowl or jug combine the cooled butter, milk and eggs. Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and pour the wet mixture into the centre. Gently, with purposeful strokes, fold the two together until almost combine. Drop spoonfuls of pizza sauce on the mixture dotted around the top then complete the folding process with only a few more folds. The pizza sauce should be like marble threads through the mixture not completely mixed through. This will give you pops of tomatoey richness in random bites as you eat. You don’t want to over mix like with regular muffin methods or they’ll be chewy and tough.

Spoon into prepared muffin cases and bake 20 minutes, until golden brown and a skewer comes out clean. Allow to cool to at least warm. As tempting as it is, eating them fresh out of the oven when the cheese is oozy and the sauce steaming is a sure fire ride to burned mouth hell.

Store in the fridge if there’s any left over and warm briefly in the microwave if you want them that way or leave to return to room temp for ten minutes before eating. They’ll also freeze well.

Cauliflower, Carrot and Chickpea Fritters

I’ve come across a new phrase recently “February, the Mother’s New Years.” I loved it and had a rye chuckle to myself accompanied by a knowing nod. No doubt a revelation and saying arrived at by some clever clogs Mum somewhere who’s exhalation and sigh of relief waving kids off to a new school year registered with the weather authorities as a brief gale of wind. One, women, Australia wide, also identified with also nodding along as they surveyed their lives on those first few days of the school year as routine resumed and we all hopped aboard life’s treadmill for another lap around the sun.

I recalled this time vividly reading this. Both excited for the return of some routine and quiet during the day as much as I was also sad to have to resume the early mornings, the rushing around and those lunchboxes. I always quite enjoyed the languid slow pace of those 6-8 week summer holidays kicking off with the festivities of Christmas and followed by sunny summer days spent by the sea or in the bush. The bored kids and all that results from that were always a small price to pay for all that Aussie summers gift us. Camping trips, time in nature, sleep ins and family time were always the weeks that rejuvenated and refreshed me ready for the year that awaited.

January was the time for plotting and planning and all those resolutions and best intentions for the months to come. Amongst all the normal plans and promises to self I always used to want to up my lunchbox game for my kids. I’d collect all the ‘special lunchbox edition’ magazines that would populate the shelves at the dawn of each year, flicking through their pages folding the corners of ones I planned to try while relaxing in a deck chair under summer skies supervising skylarking kids on holidays. February was always the annual golden age of lunchbox fodder with all the savoury muffins, frittatas, pasta salads and wraps. March saw the return of sandwiches some days and on the year would go until term four arrived and as with every other Mum I’d limp over the finish line with whatever I could muster.

My kids are adults now and make their own lunches, but I still love a tasty lunch, more interesting than the basics. I like taking a few moments from all the other elements of busy days to assemble something delicious and healthy to break up the day. As with most busy people, though, I also don’t have a lot of time in my day to pull anything too extravagant together so if I can make something that lasts a few days, all the better.

And so I give you Cauliflower, Carrot and Chickpea fritters. Suitable for all manner of lunches, picnics, stand up ones while you empty the dishwasher, desk lunches while you plough through the work day or maybe even lunchboxes if you keep ‘mum’ about all those veggies.

Enjoy!!

Ingredients:

1 can chickpeas drained, half fork mashed half kept whole.

2 cups of small cauliflower florets, either from leftovers or blanched.

1 large carrot peeled and grated

1 spring onion/scallion finely chopped

1 tsp thyme leaves chopped or ½ tsp dried

1 garlic clove crushed

½ C milk

½ plain flour

1 tsp baking powder

1 egg lightly whisked

1 tsp salt flakes

Freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Oil to fry. I prefer extra virgin olive oil

Method:

Combine vegetables, chickpeas, thyme and garlic in a large bowl.

In a second bowl combine milk and egg and whisk together. Add flour, salt and pepper and combine until almost smooth.

Tip over veg and chickpeas, fold together until thoroughly combined.

Heat a large fry pan over medium heat with enough oil to cover the base. Drop heaped ¼ c full dollops of mixture into the warmed pan cooking 2-3 minutes each side flipping after the edges are cooked as pictured. They’re done when firm in the middle and golden brown on both sides. I cook 3 at a time to give you an idea of how big to make them.

Serve warm or cold with your favourite condiment.

GF Almond Spice Granola

The alarm gently trills from my watch. It feels loud this morning ‘til I realise its right next to my head. I fumble for the button to quieten it, snooze a few more minutes. It trills again, I know today I can’t hit that button again. Magpies warble at my window sill, I hear my husband moving around getting ready for his day, run through the day in my head, I fumble for the button and turn off the alarm. Blinking a few times forcing sand from eyes I reach for my glasses check my phone (I know) and surrender to the inevitable. The day begins, showered ready to go. After squeezing in an early morning appointment I’m off for jaunt down the coast to work on a wonderful project, it’s going to be a big day. With my photographer’s hat on, my mind is ticking through all the wonderful possibilities for today’s shoot, the creative joy of working with a like-minded soul on a shared passion coursing through my veins. I wander downstairs very grateful for yesterday Sally who prepared brekky for today Sally. What a clever gem she was, because no matter how invigorated I feel I’m still not a morning person. I try, I want to be, I make plans to reach that goa, but I never quite make it. I’m also a brekky lover, indeed it’s the only way to get me fired up, that and a strong almond milk flat white coffee….very strong. The delicious spicy crunch of nuts and seeds held together with honey burnished in the oven to crisp the mixture up to little clusters atop creamy thick Greek yoghurt and the tang of fresh berries is one of my favourite ways to start the day, and when I know I have big schedule ahead of me a delicious meal I can make ahead and ignite my mind and body.

Whilst I’m lucky enough to not be a coeliac sometimes a brekky heavy in grains can still feel a little heavy in the morning for me. With that in mind I’ve leaned on gluten free ingredients for a satisfying and nourishing mix to top my yoghurt with a little crunchy sprinkle. A nice little handful of clusters also makes a great snack or even a lite sprinkle over ice cream to almost give a feel of a crumble type dessert. If not with fresh fruit this compote is perfect alongside the granola both at breakfast with yoghurt and of course at the other end of the day over ice cream.

Ingredients:

1 ½ c raw buckwheat

2/3 c whole raw almonds skin on

2/3 c slivered raw almonds

½ c raw macadamias either halved or roughly chopped

¼ c pumpkin seeds

¼ c sunflower seeds

2 Tb sesame seeds

1 c coconut flakes

2 ½ tsp ground cinnamon

¼ tsp ground allspice

½ tsp ground ginger

½ tsp ground cardamon

1/3 c olive oil

1/3 c honey

1 tsp vanilla

2 tsp brown sugar

Method:

Preheat oven to 160c (140c for fan forced).

Line a tray large enough to hold the ingredients in a single layer. Use two if you need to.

Combine all dry ingredients in a large bowl, set aside. Combine Olive oil, honey and vanilla in a bowl whisking until combined. You can zap in the microwave for ten seconds if you need to loosen it.

Pour over drive ingredients and mix well to combine. Spread evenly on tray in a thin layer. Bake 15 minutes taking out to stir and turn well half way through cooking.

Remove and cool on bench. I like to slide the paper off the hot tray onto the bench. It’s coolness shock the granola and stops the cooking process.

Blueberry and Apple Compote

Plunging my fork into, what should have been, an unctuous herbaceous dish of some history for us I was pretty excited. A recipe given to me by a friend a million years ago that always evoked memories of another time in our lives the anticipation was high. As I bit down, swirled in my mouth, my expression fell. What had I done wrong? This isn’t how I remember it at all. I reluctantly ate, cant waste food to save myself. The boys loved it, me not so much. That was to be your recipe this week. And right then the wall went up. The creative block. I’d already photographed the recipe, loved the pics and felt very organised, just not whatever I’d done to the recipe. I have loads of dishes I could share but couldn’t think straight or decide on one to choose, re-test, cook, shoot and share. With only a few days to go what the heck was I to do. By this point it was late, I was tired, disappointed and deflated and really couldn’t arrive at a new direction.

The creative fork in the road is a funny thing. Generally known as creative block many say it’s a thing of its own. As is our want in 2022 I googled the phenomenon…. Procrastigoogling? Absolutely! Anyway, I digress. Elizabeth Gilbert, writer and creative commentator suggests the affliction is not in and of something on its own rather it’s the egg in the chicken and egg saga. Either representative of something bigger happening around your creative pursuits or indeed boredom of the reality that creativity when it’s both a profession and a pursuit is still work and not always something that lights you up with each word, click of a camera or brush stroke of a painting, or indeed step in a recipe. So, did I feel bored? Nope food never bores me, except at 5.30pm when I, yet again, need to come up with dinner. Was it something bigger around creativity…hmmm quite possibly. Imposter syndrome and wondering if your work is enjoyed and good enough is very very real. So, when a recipe idea crashes and a deadline (albeit self-imposed) looms what do I do? Well apparently, my creativity crashes too. So I went to bed with a headache and a blank page in my head and no expectation of sleep.

Mysteriously, sleep I did. Very well in fact. I still woke up with the remains of that headache but I was rested so that was a good start. Going through the motions of the morning routine, blinds raised, radio on, cat fed, coffee machine on I started running through ideas. Sitting with my breakfast I sat with my notebook scribbling down ideas and flicking through other recipes already recorded. Taking my first spoonful of yoghurt I stopped, “wait that’s it!” I doesn’t always need to be complicated, elaborate or solve a big problem. Sometimes it can and should be simple. When it seems complicated the answer is more often than not simple and more often than not right in front of you. Both the recipe and the words.

I have no idea where my love of cooked fruit comes from but I’m a sucker for a compote or more simply stewed fruit. I have no elaborate tale to wend my way through, there’s no specific spark lit in my memory, I just love the sweet jammy syrup with jewels of still whole fruit that results from a gentle simmer and addition of a few embellishments of a compote.

My Greek yoghurt at breakfast was blanketed by puddle of Blueberry and Apple compote, the spark for my simple share today. It was the result of a purchase at a recent farmers market. A deliciously generous tub of sweet sapphire coloured globes that from a distance, as I approached the stall, looked like fresh fruit but as I took them from the farmers hand were in fact frozen. I’d been meaning to bake something with them but finally arrived at compote and in turn have arrived here with you.

Ingredients:

500 gm Blueberries

1 Pink Lady Apple peeled and cubed

2 Tb Maple Syrup

1 Tb caster sugar

1 tsp vanilla paste or extract

Pinch salt

2 Tb water

1 tsp lemon juice

Method:

Reserve one cup of blueberries. Combine remaining ingredients in a small saucepan and over a medium heat bring to just below a boil. Continue to simmer over med-low heat until apples are just ender and the liquid that has developed has thickened. Add the remaining blueberries and continue simmering until they’ve just softened about 3-5 minutes.

Pour into an airtight container and refrigerate until completely cold. The sauce will thicken on cooling.

Cooking times will vary depending on whether or not you have used fresh or frozen berries.

Serve on Yoghurt like I enjoy it or even more deliciously over vanilla ice cream. The compote is also a lovely addition to a simple vanilla cake, porridge or rice pudding.

Bircher Muesli

“Order up!” Bellowed the brusque Scottish head chef on my first day of my first hospitality job. Twenty one, hands shaking, cheeks flaming under the guidance of my supervisor I reached across the pass shelf and took the large glass bowl of a creamy white gloopy concoction. It was 6.15 am and though bleary at such an early hour I still didn’t recognise what I carried out to the buffet in preparation for, soon to arrive, guests. “What is it?” I enquire. “It’s Bircher Muesli,” he barked across the kitchen, “now hurry along.” Now if you’ve ever worked in a hotel restaurant or kitchen you’ll know this exchange was not one meant with any malice on his part rather an indication of the rising adrenaline of impending service. I often reflect on this as I watch reality tv set in restaurants or cooking environments wondering if this is a tactic secretly employed by chefs the world over to build tension like a screenwriter would in a blockbuster suspense thriller or a football coach at half time wanting to rev up the team and inspire performance. At the time I was a little rattled and perhaps even somewhat shocked. My supervisor, a seasoned hospo professional from London, though well used to such shenanigans reassured and encouraged me and I in turn grew a little and became a little bit more adult as you do in your early 20’s contrary to how you perceive yourself at the time. As that morning progressed I asked what indeed Bircher Muesli was. She explained what was in it and where it had originated from and offered me a taste. Until then I’d always eaten toast or muesli with the occasional bacon and eggs, very vanilla 1980’s Australia. Suddenly a whole new world of breakfasts opened up to me as the offerings on that buffet grew that morning and indeed my curiosity piqued so too did the variety of things I enjoyed for breakfast grow from working there.

Reflecting on this I’m reminded how the maturity of our taste buds can be like markers for the passage of time and indeed our own maturity. Our willingness to try something new that we may have previously thought we disliked or in fact had never heard of transcends from the table and kitchen to our greater lives if we’re lucky and we look beyond toast and coffee both literally and metaphorically.

Historically bircher muesli was created by a swiss doctor in the early 20th century. Traditionally it was made with oats nuts and fruit soaked overnight in apple juice and boosted with fresh grated apple in the morning. Originally intended to be a nutrition packed breakfast for ailing patients in hospital it remains a dish you can load up with all the essentials to get your day started well. You can make ahead in jars ready for a quick breakfast in the morning and indeed make a few at once given they keep well in the fridge for a few days. The recipe below is my concoction I make and keep in the pantry having it ready for mixing at night ready to go rather than lots of measuring and mixing each time. To make things a little easier I use dried apple which plumps up nicely overnight and marries well with the spices. Alternatively, my mixture can also be eaten well as a traditional natural muesli unsoaked with Greek yoghurt or with your favourite milk or milk alternative poured over with some fresh fruit.

Ingredients:

3 C rolled oats

¼ C LSA (linseed, sunflower and almond ground up and mixed. I use this one for bonus points. You could replicate it by whizzing 2 TBs of chia in a grinder, blender of stick blender to chop it up and make it palatable if unsoaked)

¼ C slivered almonds or your favourite nuts chopped up

¼ C oat bran

¼ pumpkin seeds

½ C dried apple chopped into small pieces

1/3 C shredded coconut

¼ currants

1 tsp cinnamon

¼ tsp of fresh nutmeg grated

¼ tsp ground ginger

Method:

Combine all the above and store in a well sealed contained.

The night before eating add 1/3 C of your homemade natural muesli mixture from above. Place in a jar and just cover with your choice of milk and stir. Add 100gm your favourite yoghurt (I use Greek for myself but my son prefers vanilla Greek) and stir well. Seal jar and and place in fridge overnight. Top with fresh fruit and a drizzle of honey and serve. You can pop some fruit in the jar the night before if you have a busy morning ahead for grab and go convenience.