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.

Warm Chorizo and Potato Salad

So it’s the first of December, perhaps the official start of the silly season, or is it? More and more each year the season dawns ever earlier. Major sale days now have become major sale weeks with us all hunting bargains and ticking off shopping lists smugly celebrating the completion of parts of or whole shopping lists. Company Christmas parties now dot squares in the November page of calendars and diaries. Christmas trees and decorations adorn our homes in November festooning every corner with festive cheer. And of course our social plans fill with all the annual Christmas catch ups with family and friends.

It's a funny thing really, we’re all so busy feeling like our personal bandwidth has reached capacity yet we feel compelled to load up even more. Don’t get me wrong, the social side of the festive season is actually one of my favourite parts of farewelling the year. Life, in the thick of the year is busy, we’re distracted by all the weekly commitments and demands on our time so making the effort to commit to time with special people feels all the more precious. December seems to bring with it a slow sense of curtains slowly drawing to a close. It’s an atmosphere well suited to a time of year marked by gatherings with loved ones. Likewise, a time of year here, where the weather mellows and warms and we’re drawn outside, dining under gently waving trees, warmed by sunshine and serenaded by birdsong and chirruping crickets. In amongst all these events though life still tumbles along taking us with it. Indeed alongside this period of reunions can be a sense of frenetic lists to tick off. Work tasks to close out for the year, maybe holidays to pack and plan for and all the other commitments we feel compelled to fulfill. Would I change it? Not on your life! I love the atmosphere of all these fun lunches and dinner dates. We’re all a little reflective, reminiscing on all the milestones and events and hopefully excitedly looking towards what the year to come brings. Corks pop, barbecues sizzle, laughter fills the air and shoulders, set firm with tension start slowly descending.

In the midst of that festive paradox the last thing I need is to struggle with what to cook or bring to a dinner when asked to contribute while still trying to fill hungry tummies. Where I can keep it simple I will, relying on a few loved flavours and filling, hearty ingredients. Spuds, or potatoes more politely, are where it’s at aren’t they. No matter how they’re prepared, nearly everyone loves them, they’re cheap and filling and will be the thing that will get passed between diners the most. What better way to keep the conversation flowing and cater for everyone.

Ingredients:

1 kg potatoes unpeeled in large cubes/chunks**.

¼ c extra virgin olive oil

½ tsp smoked sweet/mild paprika

2 tsp dried oregano

Salt flakes

3-4 whole unpeeled garlic cloves, lightly bruised with a lite bash.

2 cured chorizo sausages chopped into large chunks

¼ c garlic aioli or sour cream (choose your own adventure) or more depending on you’re preference

2 spring onions sliced to serve

Method:

Preheat oven to 180c.

Line a large roasting tray or dish big enough to hold potatoes in a single layer. In a large bowl whisk together oil, paprika and oregano. Add the prepared potatoes and stir to coat well. Tumble the mixture in the lined baking tray and sprinkle with the salt flakes. Pop into the oven and bake 30 minutes. Remove and stir and sprinkle over the chopped chorizo and return to the oven for 10 minutes or until potatoes are golden brown and sausage caramelising on the edges.

Now here’s the choose your own adventure part. Dollop over the top either the garlic aioli or sour cream and sprinkle the sliced spring onions. We prefer the aioli, it’s just that little bit richer and we love the extra garlic flavour it imparts, however if you’d prefer a lighter flavour try sour cream. As it melts down over the warm potatoes it will melt into the flavoured oil now infused with the chorizo flavours and form a delicious sauce to scoop up and drizzle over whatever protein you’ve served alongside.

**Floury potatoes are usually preferred for baking but don’t get hung up on that, if you only have white or waxy potatoes just go with it, they’ll be fine.

Herbed Beef and Macaroni

Nostalgia has been front of mind lately, like a chain, all it’s elements individual links forming its reach. I’m not sure what’s motivated it but I know it started with a conversation with Mel and our joint quest for an old high school home economics text book, both of us coincidentally in pursuit of a seemingly simple but comforting recipe for apple dumplings. It was a strange happenstance that we should both be motivated by the same recipe and that it should come to light quite deep into the conversation. It’s the comfort that such nostalgic recipes bring that motivates such a hunt and a big reflection and metaphor for who I am really.

At the nursery this week looking for new season herbs I came home with three bright pink fuchsia plants to fill a spot in my garden needing a lift. They were my Nana’s favourite plant and featured frequently in corners of her garden cascading from hanging baskets like ballerinas dancing in the breeze every spring. They fascinated me as a child their little buds popping with a gentle squeeze revealing the stamen and pistil ready to erupt. As a little ballerina myself I always ‘saw’ fairies and ballerinas fluttering their wings or pointing their toes from the jewel-coloured blooms. I can’t wait for the little buds to burst in my little fuchsia patch and hope somewhere somehow they make my Nana smile.

Pottering in another part of my garden bright green buds almost reminiscent of fresh figs with ruby red centres had just started opening on one of the many orchid plants from my father’s collection. A hobby he took up in retirement, the accumulation, nurturing and sharing of his collection became a passion. I always smile fondly when they flush making sure to gather the long lasting stems and bring them inside to enjoy their elegant adornment almost like having my dad around again, popping in to visit.

They’re simple pursuits that consume me and occupy my mind and time. Nothing too fancy and definitely not particularly sexy. Indeed some may find them mundane and hokey, perhaps even frown on them. I’ve often looked on my passions myself that way even answering questions in polite conversation about them in hushed tones, brushing over them, trying to seem more intellectual and interesting. It was whilst listening to this episode of my favourite podcast this week that this came to mind and indeed I almost felt like Lindsay and her guest were giving me permission to remain elbow deep in the flour and soil and creativity. Noting their love of their individual interests motivated by nothing else but their love of them rather than any societal presumptions of them that can sometimes superficially be attached to such simple pastimes gave me pause. These pursuits bring comfort be they born from nostalgia like mine or otherwise. No matter how simple nor highbrow they may seem to others I realised that they really are like a soft crocheted blanket from nana ( did I mention my love of a blankie? ) tucked around your lap on a cold evening, they allow you to breathe out feel ‘warm’ in all the ways and offer you escape and indeed an intellectual flex in a way that’s meaningful to you…and that really is the thing that matters most.

Much like my simple pursuits beef mince is a simple ingredient often forming the basis for simple meals. There’s usually always a tray of it in my freezer, so much so I could almost write a book of mince recipes. It’s an ingredient often associated with nostalgic meals like this one and more often than not comfort food. Maybe it’s that air of nostalgia that’s prevailed recently that reminded me of this dish from my childhood. Herbed Beef and Macaroni was one of my mum’s specialties from her Women’s Weekly Recipe Card Collection box. Remember those? They were a prized collection taking pride of place in thousands of Australian kitchens in the 70’s and 80’s. As was the case in that cooking era it featured a few convenient hacks using tinned soup and packets. Working from memory and a preference for working from scratch, I was keen to reconstruct this family fave. I was thrilled to plunge my fork into a warming bowl of this hearty dish and even more so to taste a dinner that tasted just like it did at mum’s hands.

Ingrendients:

1 Tb olive oil, you know the drill, extra virgin

1 brown onion finely diced

1 carrot peeled and very finely diced or grated

1 garlic clove crushed

150 gm bacon chopped in chunks

500gm beef mince (not the low fat stuff, it’s dry and flavourless)

400g jar of tomato passata/puree + a jar of water

1 Tbs dried mixed herbs – the old school variety

1 tsp dried oregano

1 beef stock cube

1 ½ cups of small shaped dried pasta like macaroni or elbows

1 c frozen peas ( I use baby peas, they’re much sweeter)

Method:

In a large frypan, that has a well-fitting lid, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the bacon and fry off until the edges start to caramelise, about five minutes.

Reduce heat to low and add onion and carrot and cook gently until softened but not browned, another five minutes.

Increase heat to medium high and add the garlic cook briefly until the garlic aroma wafts up. Push all this to the edge of the pan and add the pat of mince allowing it to brown whole for a few minutes each side like you would a whole piece of meat. After you’ve browned both sides break it up and continue browning the meat. You don’t need to cook it through completely but rather brown it mostly.

Sprinkle over the herbs and stir briefly allowing them to warm and release their fragrance. Pour in the passata and using that jar add a jar full of water. Crumble the stock cube over the mixture and stir to combine.

Tumble the pasta shapes into the mixture and stir to combine well. Turn heat back down to low, pop the lid on and cook for ten minutes stirring half way through to ensure it doesn’t catch on the bottom.

Remove the lid, stir again and taste check the pasta for doneness and check for seasoning. Add salt and black pepper to taste now. Try not to do this earlier as both the bacon and stock cube add a lot of flavour and needs time to cook down a little before you taste and season. Allow to simmer for a few more minutes with the lid off to let some of the liquid reduce. Finally add the peas and simmer a further five minutes or until the pasta is tender but not too soft.

I like to serve it with a sprinkle of gremolata to freshen up the flavour. Chop a small handful of flat leaf parsley, grated rind of a lemon and a garlic clove together until fine and sprinkle to taste.

Grilled Asparagus with Chunky Tomato Vinaigrette

There’s been a lot of talk about cars around here lately. CV joints, brakes, suspension both leaf and spring, radiators fans etc etc etc ad infinitum. All terms I never anticipated knowing or indeed understanding but such is the life of a boy mum who’s boys love adventuring buy maintain and own their cars on their own ticket. I bet not a subject you ever expected to read about on a food blog either, but here we are.

You see, cars are super important to young people and in my experience young men. Cars are their independence especially when they still live at home, they’re often their conduit to study and employment choices without the shackles of public transport access and in my sons cases a symbol of economic achievement. They both saved for, bought and maintain their own cars all by the age of 18. They worked hard for that achievement and continue to work hard to sustain it. As they do to support their dreams and the one both boys are about to embark on.

As the boys grew, up we always holidayed in the wild. Packing our four wheel drive and camper trailer to the rafters so to speak, we’d set off to the trees or the ocean seeking adventure and freedom in the wide open. Sometimes ‘dragging’ your kids off on such holidays year in year out is enough to turn them off such adventures for life. In the case of our kids, however, this has been far from the case, indeed it’s driven them to go further and wilder. Soon, both boys will be heading off on their own adventures, in different directions from each other both with open ended return dates. One will head west, following the wild southern ocean to the west coast heading north to the red ocre of the Kimberley and the tropical north of his childhood. The other lad will head off through the open planed NSW outback to the green ocean side tropics of northern Queensland, both wonderful holiday spots if their wanderings prevail and we fly north to visit and fill our arms and family cup with their companionship. I’m all parts excited for them and with all my mother’s emotions inwardly sad at the void their absence will leave. Maggie McKellar has touched on this in her beautiful weekly newsletter The Sit Spot on occasion and will also write about motherhood in her new book to be released next year which can’t come soon enough. Their expeditions will take them on routes I’ve not travailed myself and open their eyes and wings in ways remaining at home never could. The prospect of this growth is beyond exciting for me to witness as their mother but the wrench to stand at the top of the drive way and wave them off as they drive away with a smile and dry eyes will be my own adventure.

Whilst melancholy at the thought of their departure, a part of me is also a little excited at what may come for me and us. Even though they’re adults running a home for a family of four still takes time and the ‘mother lobe’ of the brain to be constantly activated, or maybe that’s just me. The family diary in your head still ticks away, and the detritus of family life still surrounds you. Whilst I don’t begrudge that part of myself I’ve bestowed on them, indeed I’m grateful to have been able to do that, but I do look forward to another chapter opening in my life.

In helping our kids prepare for their trips one of the things they’ve sought advice on is meals they’ve enjoyed both at home and on the road, as I mentioned here. On reflection one of the great benefits of this blog is them being able to refer it while they travel ( when they have mobile/cell service) for the tastes of home but also it gives me an opportunity to explore other ideas for meals, particularly ones my husband and I can enjoy for lighter even meals for two and easy quick meals. Whilst the boys enjoy a wide variety of foods they are strapping, busy growing lads whose appetites and needs are perhaps greater than ours. More and more I’m thinking about dishes we might enjoy together of a lighter style. I created this recently for a quick lunch mopping up all that was left on the plate. It’s a delicious combination of flavours that will be flexible to be a side dish and as is with an egg as a quick dinner, maybe at the end of a weekend day adventuring ourselves.

Ingredients:

1-2 bunches of fresh asparagus spears, around 6-8 spears each.

1 cup quartered cherry tomatoes

1 ½ tsp salted capers, washed and chopped

1 tsp of Dijon mustard

2 tsp of sherry or red wine vinegar

2 tbs Extra virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

2 eggs

2 tsp pine nuts

Mixed salad leaves

Method:

In a medium half fill with water, a generous sprinkle of salt and a good glug of white vinegar and pop over a high heat to bring to the boil.

Trim asparagus by breaking the end off at the base. To do this hold the base in one hand and the spear half way up in the other hand and bend. Do this gently and it will naturally break at the point where the sweet tender flesh meets the woody end. Place in a suitably sized bowl or plate, drizzle a small amount of olive oil and gently and briefly massage all over to coat the spears, set aside. In a medium bowl whisk together the capers, mustard, vinegar and oil, taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper to taste. It’s important to taste first as the capers, though washed, will add salt to the dish. Gently fold through the tomatoes and set aside. Set a griddle pan on a medium-high heat until smoking. Tip Asparagus into pan perpendicular to the griddle lines and cook a few minutes each side until just starting to soften. Remove from heat and keep war.

In the boiling pot, swirl water until a whirlpool forms and crack eggs into the centre of the whirlpool and simmer for 3-4 minutes or until it’s as firm as you prefer. You can gently lift the egg in a slotted spoon to the surface and gently touch it to check how done it is.

To assemble, place a handful of the salad leaves on a plate, lay the asparagus on top and spoon over the tomato mixture. With a light touch rest the poached egg on top, sprinkle pine nuts around the plate and serve.

I enjoy this dish with an extra flourish of persian feta or pan fried haloumi. Hubby like it next to some extra protein.

Served without egg this is an excellent side with all meats or on as part of shared table of a few sides. Plated as a larger dish in such a manner this will serve four as a side or six as part of a several offerings.

If you don’t have a griddle pan you can cook the asparagus on a barbecue/grill or even steam them.

Cornish Pastie

There’s a belief that we all experience our childhoods differently. All members of the one family reflect differently on all the events, traditions and milestones in their own way and colour in the images in their minds and hearts with their own ‘paint palette.’ Maybe this is driven by the age each individual member is at each moment in a family’s history or maybe their own character steers these memories. Our own journey through the years we traverse fills in gaps lost to time and the emotions we hold around these moments adding light and shade. Many of these recollections will hold food at their centre, it’s place at the heart of such chapters the jewel in the memory itself.

Marjorie Constance was our unassuming matriarch. A quiet country heart ensconced in the city after decades of battling milking eczema on dairy farms in the days of hand milking. Their pursuit of farming coinciding with running the town post office and whatever else her and Alfred could turn their hands to in order to make a living in their humble way. Papa a Cornish born gentleman and WWI Veteran and her an equally unpretentious country girl from rural Victoria. Salt of the earth types, as the saying goes, for whom family and home were everything and enough. They built their tribe, a son and nephew raised as brothers, as country families in Australia often did back then. Then their offspring gathering as cousins and sharing all the shenanigans and recollections of extended families. In her quiet gentle manner Nana cleverly gathered us all together twice a year taking full advantage of our Papa’s June birthday at the halfway point of the year and our love for him and of course an obligatory xmas celebration, unwaveringly, the second Sunday of December. She never pushed or imposed, it was just inked into the family calendar, bringing everyone together.

As a child I relished these gatherings, literally skipping through their beautiful garden carefully manicured borders, lining my path shaded by towering pine trees and abundant fruit trees. The kitchen table would be heaving with multiple desserts a collection carefully curated ensuring everyone’s favourites were catered to. The meal, never anything modern or fancy, rather it was always the best roast you’ve ever eaten and all those delicious sweets.

My cousins, the loganberry pie lovers, most probably see that as their highlight, always sat at the street end of the dressed-up trestle tables. I remember the apple pie and slices and the bench I sat on at the kitchen end of the table. We most likely recall the feelings and enjoyment of those meals differently too. What doesn’t differ is our love of a dish that never appeared at these evenings but is unerringly one of our favourite dishes from our Nana’s kitchen, Cornish Pastie.

Sharon, my cousin, says each vegetable was layered I don’t recall that. How the pastry was made has mystified us too. I suspect lard Sharon is certain it was butter. She’s also several years older than me so her role, working at Nana’s side, differs from the tasks a much younger me was set and again those experiences leaving a different story on the narratives of our lives. And that’s the thing, our memories are our stories coloured with our ‘paint box.’ Recipes will take their own shape and colours in your own hands. What matters the most is the feeling that first mouthful evokes. If, to you, it tastes like your memories and you recreate that feeling, you’ve recreated that recipe…enough.

Swede, as it’s known here, is the predominant flavour in pastie, it’s sweet earthiness the first flavour layer you taste. Other root vegetables follow with a savoury bite of beef and tingly white pepper foils the salty umami. I haven’t unlocked the pastry mystery but have let go of the pursuit of it’s secrets and wrapped the story in my rough puff pastry and that first flaky bite is immensely satisfying. You can use store bought if pastry making isn’t your jam but as always try and get the best you can obtain and afford, it really does make a difference. I’ve explained my pastry method below if you want to give it a go. Traditionally Pasties are made like individual parcels crimped on top almost football shaped. Nana always made hers as a slab, perhaps to make it stretch further and perhaps making a little less work for herself. We still prefer it that way.

Ingredients:

1 swede peeled and finely diced

1 potato peeled and finely diced

1 carrot peeled and finely diced

1 parsnip peeled and finely diced

1 eschalot or small brown onion peeled and finely diced

½ tsp heaped salt flakes

¼ tsp ground white pepper

2 tsp finely chopped parsley

250 gm minced/ground beef

2 sheets puff pastry measuring 30cm X 40cm

1 egg beaten and mixed with a drop of milk (as Nana would have said) for an egg wash.

Method:

Preheat oven to 180c.

Combine all the vegetables in a bowl with seasonings stir to combine and leave to sit for a few minutes while you prepare everything else.

On a greased and lined baking sheet/tray lay one of your sheets of pastry. Leaving a 2cm border around the edge, pile your vegetable mix in the middle smoothing out the surface to be flat. Now here’s the part that was my job when I was little, scatter all across the top little blobs of the minced beef. This will almost cover the top in a thin layer. Paint the edge of your pastry around the filling with the egg wash. Lay the second sheet of pastry on top and roll the edges over folding and crimping all the way round. Brush the egg wash over the top. Poke small holes with either a fork or point of a sharp knife in several spots across the top to allow it to vent. Pop in the oven for 60 minutes. For ten minutes more, bump the temperature up to 200c to burnish the top and cook off any remaining moisture from inside. I like to turn the tray half way round after 30 minutes. Every oven I’ve ever owned is hot at the back and doing this allows it to cook evenly.

Rough Puff Pastry:

400 gm cold butter cubed

400 gm plain flour

1tsp fine salt

150-180 ml cold water

Method:

Combine flour and salt in a bowl and tip onto the bench in a mound. Sprinkle over the butter cubes, it will look like a lot don’t panic it will all come together. Using the sharp edge of a pastry scraper chop through the mound as if youre cutting something up, changing the angles of the scraper. If you don’t have one you can use a large knife to do this. Once it looks well chopped up and mixed through make a well in the centre and tip half the water in. Using your hands bring the mess together. You’ll need to add more water but it’s easier to add it little by little until you have a rough shaggy dough than add more flour to correct it. Resist the urge to knead it just massage it to the mound until it will hold into a big lump. Shape into a disc, cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Remove from fridge and on a lightly floured surface roll out to a large rectangle. Nudge the edges into shape to achieve this, it’s a soft dough with such a high butter content so will be pliable. Fold each end into the middle then fold at the middle again like a book dust cover. Fold that bundle in half on itself, cover and refrigerate 30 minutes. Repeat this process 3 more times then rest again for 30minutes to an hour. It’s a good one for a slow day each roll and fold only takes a few minutes.

When ready the dough will be very smooth and ready for rolling as required. Cut in half and roll to required size. This recipe is the perfect amount for the sheet of pastie.

Brussels Sprout Gratin

With all the hutzpah and imagined sophistication of the young woman I was I stood in the golden waning light of a light spring evening, breeze gently billowing through my pink linen dress. The air scented by the heady fragrance of the rose garden in which we gathered, the late spring evening warmth carrying the perfume through the air. With anticipation I accepted a glass of straw-coloured sparkling wine, the new vintage which we’d gather to celebrate having just been sabred to much applause and celebration. Sipping happily laughing and chatting with friends the mood light, the tummies had begun to rumble. Waiters had begun to circulate offering light appetisers carefully curated to begin the evening and signal the excited mood. Oysters were presented, my friends all happily accepting them while I politely, and I thought discreetly, declined. My youth showing, one of my friends enquired as to my tastes and refusal of a plump pearlescent mollusk. Trying to maintain my façade of maturity and sophistication I tried to wave off the comment but his tenacity prevailed. “Try one,” he insisted…”what’s the worst that can happen….you confirm you don’t like them and move on.” He’s a hard man to argue with even to this day and he had a strong point. By this time he’d called our server back and taken a shell for me thrusting it forward and instructing me on how to eat the delicacy au naturele. I mean what a baptism of fire! No bacon of the Kilpatrick variety or oozy gooey mornay, we were starting hard core. He informed these treasures were flown in especially every year for this special event, remembering this was in the day when flying food around for such an indulgence was a rarity. Anyway, loath though I was to admit it, because frankly 25 year olds hate being wrong, but he was right. And to this day I love oysters, in all their guises, and artichokes, another of his culinary lessons.

In a fit of swings and roundabouts fast forward 22 years and we again had gathered surrounded by all our adult children, fast flowing conversation and a variety of food filling the dining room. Again a young 20 something, my friend’s son, politely turned his nose up at one of the many vegetable sides on offer. And as we do in middle age I recounted my oyster story and challenged him to try something different. Begrudgingly he took a small scoop, the conversation resumed and, so he thought, he took a bite discreetly. Quietly he reached forward and served himself a second helping and continued eating under the gaze of his mother and I sharing a gentle grin. A few years on and James still like sprouts.

It’s always worth trying those foods you think you don’t like, if you don’t like it you don’t have it again and if you do you explore that new food in all it’s forms. Nothing culinarily ventured nothing deliciously gained.

If a young man can enjoy brussels sprouts almost anyone can. I mean who doesn’t like something smothered in creamy sauce topped with a little crunch from sourdough crumbs. And of course the salty pop of prosciutto or bacon and gentle bite of pine nuts rounds the dish out perfectly. I promise! Just have a go.

Ingredients:

300 brussels sprouts trimmed at the base and halved

3 Tbs extra virgin olive oil

1 garlic clove bruised

2 french sallots

50 gm finely sliced prosciutto

¼ tsp freshly grated nutmeg

1 Tb pine nuts

40 gm butter

1 ½ Tb plain flour

1 ½ C warm milk

60 gm finely grated gruyere cheese

½ C course breadcrumbs made from stale bread preferably sourdough tossed in 1 Tb Extra virgin olive oil.

Method:

Preheat oven to 180c.

Grease a shallow gratin dish or pie plate with better set aside.

Blanch the prepared brussels sprouts. If you’ve not blanched veg before it’s super easy. Bring a pot of salted water to the boil. Drop the sprouts and as soon as it returns to the boil remove and plunge into a bowl of cold water and ice cubes immediately. This stops the cooking process while giving them a brief cook but you need to remove them straight away they’re not in there to cook.

Warm olive oil in a pan, big enough to hold all the sprouts in a single layer, over medium-high heat with the garlic clove. Place all the sprouts cut side down in the pan cooking for 2-3 minutes until they start to char slightly. Remove and place in the prepared dish/pie plate face side up.

In the same pan on medium-lo heat, gently cook the prosciutto until starting to caramelise. Turn the heat to low and add the shallots cooking until translucent but not browning. Remove and sprinkle this mixture over the sprouts.

Again using this pan return it to the heat and turn down to low. Add the pine nuts and nutmeg stirring constantly for 1-2 minutes to release the aromas and again sprinkle over sprouts.

In the same pan you’ve been using, melt the butter. Add the flour and whisk with a balloon whisk. Slowly pour in milk whisking constantly and continue doing so until smooth. Keep stirring until beginning to thicken, sprinkle in cheese and cook a further minute or two until completely combined and thickened. Pour over the sprout mixture. Sprinkle prepared breadcrumbs over the top and bake for 20 mins.

Notes:

James’ mum and I love this dish with fennel. You can either add fennel to this at a ½ & ½ ratio or make it all with fennel. If using all fennel, trim and quarter and either sear in a griddle pan for pretty lines and another layer of flavour or gently caramelise in the pan skipping the blanching step.

If you prefer a firmer bite to your sprouts you can skip the blanching step but do caramelise them in the pan and do so a little slower to begin the cooking process.

Thai Spiced Pumpkin Soup

Many of my memories are wrapped in food. I can recall what I’ve eaten at many of the important moments, milestones and destinations in my life, the dish punctuating the recollections with flavour, colour and setting. I write about this a lot, indeed these memories and the feelings they evoke spark emotions that can comfort, warm and usually bring a smile. The transportive nature of taste and smell can move you like no other sensory spark.

The bracingly cold winter we’re experiencing has again brought many of these memories to the surface with a seemingly insatiable yearning for soup. Some of my earliest and fondest memories featuring food and coloured with a bowl of steaming nutritious soup. I’ve written about this here and here. Soup can act like a canvas for culinary creativity stretching you to use up the bits and bobs in the veg crisper and pantry and concoct something that emerges from the bowl that warms and nurtures mind, body and soul.

One of the first soups I made myself was a pumpkin soup. Sitting in the classroom of my home economics class aged 14, relatively new to the pumpkin eating party I was excited to try what felt inordinately exotic. Can you imagine a simple bowl of a much loved classic, listed on café menus the world over for its economic simplicity as exotic? Gosh our tastes grow don’t they. It was a favourite for many years and one I made frequently. But as time marched on and my tastes changed I found myself rejecting it as too plain.

Too plain until this idea came to me. It’s one inspired by many modern versions I’ve seen around recently. Attempts by others to zhoosh up the 1980’s favourite with a modern twist. Ones with various flourishes of other ingredients dancing in tandem to create a new combination or various spice additions transporting the dish through various cuisines, all of which lifting a very simple dish to another level. As is often the case in my kitchen I’ve tried to keep it simple, relying on the best quality ingredients available to shine and bring the show to the bowl keeping the list and jobs to a minimum.

Ingredients:

750 gm Pumpkin peeled and cut into large chunks

2 Tb olive oil

½ tsp salt flakes

1 tb grated ginger

2 French shallots peeled and sliced

1 lemongrass stalk, white part only bruised to open the husk but remaining in tact

3 lime leaves scrunched up

2 tb red curry paste

1 litre chicken stock

1 cup coconut milk

Preheat oven to 180c.

Method:

Combine pumpkin cubes, 1 tb of the oil and salt flakes and toss to coat. Spread in one layer on a baking tray and roast in the oven for 30 45 minutes or until almost cooked through. They’ll finish cooking and softening in the soup and we don’t want the edges to caramelise.

While the pumpkin is cooking, in a heavy based pot, warm the remaining tb of oil. Gently fry off the ginger and shallots over a low heat for five minutes or until soft and translucent but not caramelised. Add in the lemongrass and lime leaves, stirring and warming until they release their aroma. Increase heat to med-high, stir in the curry paste and again cook off for a few minutes more until aromatic and well combined with the shallots, ginger and herbs. Pour in stock and tip in roasted pumpkin cubes. Bring this mixture to the boil and reduce to a gentle simmer. Allow it to gently bubble away for thirty minutes to allow the flavours to meld and the pumpkin to finish cooking. The pumpkin will break up considerable during this period, which is fine as we’ll blending it in the next step. Turn off heat and allow to cool slightly until the nest step.

If you’re using a stand blender like me (I use a vitamix) you’ll need to allow it to cool to the point where it’s not freely steaming, about 10-15 minutes. If using a stick blender in the pot in which you’ve cooked carry on straight away.

Blend the soup with the coconut milk and return to heat for 5-10 minutes.

Serve over noodles of your choice, with rice or on it’s own with some warm flaky roti bread. Top with an extra dollop of coconut cream and a sprinkle of thai style embellishments such as chopped peanuts, herbs, chilli slices and deep fried shallots.

You’ll notice I’ve used mint. I’m one of ‘those coriander’ people. I simply can’t eat it, smell it or frankly be in the same room as it. This is a dish however that would be lovely with the addition of lots of fresh fragrant herbs. I suspect coriander lovers would love it’s addition to a bowl of this soup. You might also like thai basil, sweet basil, Vietnamese mint and regular mint. The more the merrier, added while steaming to elevate the lovely aroma realeased in the heat.

Notes:

The soup also hosts sliced stir fried greens nicely.

You can make the soup heartier with the addition of some proteins. Boiled eggs like I’ve used in the photo works well. You may also like to use shredded chicken either from leftovers from a previous meal or poached while you’re making the soup. For vegetarians cubes of deep fried tofu is a delicious addition.

Curry Chicken Rice

“What’s for dinner?” Did even reading that line make your toes curl? It’s the lament of parents the world over. The late afternoon question that rings through homes around the globe. The question that evokes an audible eye roll from every household’s cook. Logically the more years we cook for our families the more our repertoire grows and indeed the greater the library of skill and recipes we theoretically should be carrying around and able to call on. BUT that’s simply not how it works is it? I mean I clearly love cooking and love creative cooking but even I am frequently stumped literally having no idea what to whip up. The trouble when you love food and cooking is the many questions that rattle around in your head. What do I feel like eating/cooking? I can’t actually be bothered after a busy day…in the kitchen…queue that headache inducing eye roll. And literal cook’s block, like a writer’s block only hunger inducing and frustrating and narrated by a chorus of voices demanding an answer to the age-old late afternoon question that is the language of hungry tummies.

It can be easy to call on the plain wholesome Aussie old school favourite of meat and three veg but that can be boring, and frankly require as much work as many more elaborate offerings. With the current crazy prices of vegies in Australia, hello $10 lettuce, and you over there…$12 strawberry punnet…sit down we’re not indulging in you this week, those veg next to the piece of protein frankly feels almost indulgent. If you’ve hung out here for a while you’ll know I like a one pot wonder, a fast take on a more laborious favourite like this one and the family love rice, it’s cheap, filling and results in leftovers for lunches the next day. We also love a curry and the use of the, albeit, not traditional but delicious none the less, Indian style curry powder makes it super simple.

My curry chicken and rice is a one pot dish, that simple to prepare and needs only 25 minutes cooking time on the stove. It’s calls on the techniques of both risotto and pilaf methods combining to make what is reminiscent of the two combined into one. It’s a gentle curry for younger diners and can be dialled up or down according to the palettes of your family but also marries nicely with spicy condiments if there’s varying needs at your table.

Ingredients:

2 Tb Olive oil or ghee

500 gm chicken thigh cut into chunksm roughly 6 pieces per thigh

1 brown onion sliced

1 tb grated fresh ginger

1 large or 2 small garlic cloves crushed

3 tsp curry powder

½ tsp garam masala

4 cardamon pods bruised

1 cinnamon stick

¼ tsp ground ginger

4 curry leaves

1 cup rice, I use doongara

1 cup coconut milk

2 cups chicken stock

2 hand fulls baby spinach leaves

Extra curry leaves to serve

Method:

Heat 1 tb of the oil or ghee in a pan over med to high heat, brown chicken pieces until starting to brown on the edges, five minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and keep warm.

Add second tb of oil to pan and reduce heat to med-low. Cook onions gently until translucent, 5 minutes. Add garlic and ginger and and cook til fragrant but not browning. Add spices and cook until fragrant 1 minute. Add rice and stir until coated in the spice and onion mixture. Return chicken to pan and increase heat to med-high. Pour in coconut mil and allow to boil for 1-2 minutes. Add stock and curry leaves. Bring to boil and immediately reduce het to low and cook covered 10 minutes. Remove lid stir well ensuring it’s not sticking to the bottom and cover again and cook an additional 10 minutes. You’ll need to keep an eye on it at this stage to prevent it catching on the bottom. Just give it a quick stir if it does. Taste rice to be sure it’s nearly cooked, if so add spinach fold through and replace lid cooking for a final 3 minutes, again with lid on. Remove lid, stir while continuing to cook for a few more minutes to reduce any remaining moisture. Turn off and leave it to sit with lid on for five minutes until serving.

***Notes:

Let’s be honest sometimes you either don’t have all the spices or are in a hurry and can’t be bothered. When this strikes just bump up the curry powder with a third teaspoon. It’s pretty forgiving and will still be delicious.

If spinach will leave you stretching a friendship with kids, you might like to try substituting this with frozen peas or sliced green beans.

We like to add additional spice at the table with various condiments such as, chilli jam, dried chili flakes or even chilli oil.

For those more sensitive palettes you might like to add a bowl of yoghurt to the table, but this is a very mild dish.

Crustless Potato Quiche

Sun streams through the window warming my face. Gumtree shaped shadows dance across the pages of my book distracting me while I read, inspiring idle daydreams, a choir of warbling magpies my serenade and soundtrack. I’m snuggled under a fluffly red mohair blanket contemplating a nap or a walk or perhaps concentrating on the words in my book. The words win out, they usually do. It’s a lazy Sunday, the day after the federal election and change is emerging. Everyone’s tired, maybe it’s another chapter of pandemic recovery closing and the next era dawning, maybe it’s fatigue from the constant news cycle we’ve just endured.

As the afternoon slowly meanders by marked by the fall of the sun through the trees and towards the west horizon the reality of life ambles towards me. Early evening draws closer and I contemplate the collection of leftovers from last night’s gathering of friends awaiting us in the fridge.

We gathered around a long table, enjoying each other’s company, all the more aware of the joy of breaking bread together, multiple conversations dancing across the table in rapid fire banter. Plates of colourful vegetable offerings brought by our guests pass back and forth, scoops of slow roasted boneless chicken on a bed of unctuous cherry tomatoes and tender spiced lamb shank nestle alongside. Wine is shared, sloshed into glasses, it’s readiness dissected while others enjoy a variety of frothy lagers. The remains packed away we retire to the fireplace outside in the dewy night air, more laughter, more food, bowls of bubbling apple and rhubarb crumble and custard warming our hands. Satisfied sighs and bellies surround my contented happy soul, having spent a contented afternoon cooking for dear friends and family one of the greatest acts of love and appreciation I can offer.

Whilst dinner was gratefully devoured there’s always a surplus when you’re notorious for serving a heaving table. Returning to the present I reluctantly put my book down and haul myself from the couch, open the fridge, ponder the contents of the tubs stacked inside….hmm not quite enough for tonight’s dinner. Another corner of my mind is settling around memories of elections past and my parents. What they’d think of this most recent period and the weekend’s result. The fridge alarm pings….day dreaming again…back to reality. Thoughts of my mum, a tenacious hard working social worker, come to the front of my mind and inspiration strikes. Her signature dish of her later years, a recipe brought home from work scribbled on a torn envelope by one of her clients and later passed around through her own family and friends. A simple easy to construct comfort food recipe perfect for the end of week bits and pieces in the fridge and to pad out a small buffet of last night’s surplus. A contented smile breaks across my face and I get to work. Never underestimate the value of daydreaming, the power of food memories and the simple dishes that fill our recollections.

Crustless potato quiche, as Mum would call it, is super versatile being one of those meals suitable for all three mealtimes. It will work as a picnic dish, with a salad for a light lunch or dinner or even a prepared brekky or lunch box item. You can use leftover potato or cook potato especially for your quiche. Any of the ham/bacon family will work as will other smallgood like salami and chorizo. You can also experiment with the vegetables you add again leaning on leftovers from the fridge or using bits and bobs from the crisper. I’ve tweaked Mum’s recipe making it a little lighter but bulking it up for a hungry family.

Ingredients:

1 onion diced

2 garlic cloves crushed or finely chopped

1 tsp extra virgin olive oil

1 Tb unsalted butter

4 large eggs lightly whisked

1 cup whole milk

1 cup grated cheddar cheese (any flavoursome hard cheese will work, even a mix if needed)

1 tsp salt flakes

½ cup self-raising flour

2 potatoes diced cooked to just tender. (This equals roughly 2 cups of diced leftover potatoes if you’re using leftover potato)

1 cup of vegetables of your choice (see note)

100 gm prosciutto, ham, bacon or other similar meat.

Method:

Preheat oven to 220c. Grease a 20 cm square ceramic dish or round pie plate.

Melt butter with olive in a small pan over med-low heat. Gently cook the onion and garlic until translucent. If using bacon and you prefer it cooked you can also add it here and cook it off. Allow to cool while you gather and prepare the rest of the ingredients.

Whisk together eggs and milk. Stir through cheese and sprinkle over flour folding through until just combined. Add, onion and garlic mixture including the melted butter and oil, potato and any vegetable and meat your using. Gently stir through additions and pour into the prepared dish. Bake 30 minutes or until golden brown on top, set in the middle and gently pulling away from the sides. Allow to cool slightly before serving.

Notes:

If using spinach for your veg addition use chopped fresh baby spinach leaves. No need to cook first indeed doing so will add moistrure.

Other lovely veg additions that work well include corn, peas, capsicum, zucchini and even cubed roasted pumpkin.

Cubed cooked sweet potato is a delicious alternative to regular white potato.

A mixture of grated cheese adds flavour and is a handy use of all the small leftover bits of cheese in the dairy drawer.

Chicken Ratatouille

The days are getting cooler here. The wintry damp air is descending, windows kept closed, curtains drawn at night and fire lit. In the late afternoon as the family trickle through the front door at the end of their days they arrive cold, tired and in need of something warm in their tummies. There’s nothing more comforting after a long day at work or school than being greeted by the rich smells of dinner wafting through the door as you step over the threshold.

My family almost always respond to that first sniff of dinner with the standard “what’s for dinner?” Often in the colder months the answer will include some kind of casserole or slow cook. I prefer autumn and winter for many reasons but one of the biggest ones is the food. A kitchen warmed by a purring oven housing a pot of some kind of rich and hearty has a special comforting quality like no other.

My Chicken Ratatouille is one such dish. Garlic, capers, tomatoes and all the sweetness of vegies cooked slowly bubbling away in the oven is one of those evocative aromas that always makes me smile with anticipation both knowing how much the family will enjoy it and equally how satisfying a dinner it is.

Skipping the traditional step of browning the chicken first actually gives the dish a special flavour with meat almost poaching in the sauce below it and the skin roasting and crisping up, juices running off it’s surface and flavouring the dish further. Most importantly this little trick also speeds things up and that hour in the oven gives you a little time to hang out with the family hearing about their day.

Ingredients:

1 Tb extra virgin olive oil

3 garlic cloves finely chopped or crushed

4 shallots peeled and halved

1 large carrot chopped in large chunks

1 small celery stick diced

1 small capsicum chopped in large dice

1 cup of cubed eggplant

1 cup thickly sliced button mushrooms

1 Tb salted capers washed

Small bunch of fresh thyme

1 cup chicken stock

6 chicken thigh cutlets (skin on bone in)

2 400gm cans of diced tomato

Method:

Preheat oven to 180c.

Warm the olive oil in a shallow oven proof pan over medium to low heat. Turn heat down to low and add carrot, celery and shallots cut side down and cook gently for ten minutes. Add capsicum and garlic and cook for a few minutes until fragrant. Increase heat to med and add mushrooms and eggplant stirring for a few minutes until they’re beginning to sweat. Sprinkle in capers and thyme and cook briefly until they release their aroma. Pour in tomatoes and stock. Stir everything to combine thoroughly and bring to a boil. Gently place chicken cutlets on top so they’re floating on the veg and sauce, sprinkle with salt flakes and drizzle a little more olive oil over them. They will both poach underneath and roast on top. Place the pan in the oven uncovered and cook for 1 hour.

Serve with a a green salad and some crusty bread. You may also like a bowl of steamed baby potatoes or soft polenta to mop up the sauce and veg.

Greens and Bean Soup

My earliest memory of food is of me tucking into a bowl of soup. Chubby toddler right hand firmly gripping a spoon only just able to fit in my little mouth, left hand resting on the side of the bowl to warm those chilled little fingers. Little drops of oil floating wondrously on the surface of the broth like a monochrome kaleidoscope, barley bobbing around chased by my hungry spoon. It set me on a path of a passionate love for soup. Like a hug from the inside out soup has had my heart from the earliest days. It’s a chameleon dish. Every cuisine on earth has varieties of soup in it’s repertoire. It’s a vehicle for using up left overs, all the bits at the bottom of the fridge and food that nourishes and warms those we love. It’s a dish we can deliver to a friend who needs some love or one we can make to nurture the ailing.

When I emerged from the post surgery fug and regained the use of my right hand (yes I am right handed to boot) I was desperate to crack in to one of my new cook books. I’d remembered a soup full greens in Sophie’s book that I’d wanted to cook and started scouring the fridge and pantry for the ingredients. Sadly I was lacking a huge number of the ingredients but was still craving a bowl of greens floating in broth. Something a little lighter than some of the more hearty styles I often create but nourishing and satisfying none the less. This creation hit the spot and continued to do so in the days that followed. It’s super easy and would be a great one for after work or to batch cook for a busy week.

I’m still craving Sophie’s Spring Minestrone, must add the ingredients to this week shopping list.

Ingredients:

1 leek white part only finely chopped

½ tsp of freshly grated nutmeg ( it really does taste and smell better) or ¼ tsp of pre-ground.

2 garlic cloves finely chopped or crushed

50 grams prosciutto or pancetta finely chopped ( you could sub with bacon if that’s all you have)

4 sprigs of thyme leaves removed

1 swede peeled and diced

1 C broad beans podded

1 C frozen peas ( I prefer baby peas)

1 C green beans sliced into short pieces

1 can cannellini beans drained

1 ½ litres of chicken stock

Salt and white pepper

Method:

In a large heavy based pot warm a good glug of extra virgin olive oil over a low heat. Cook the leek and garlic slowly in the oil, avoiding browning the leek and garlic, until soft around five minutes. Increase heat to medium and add swede, thyme and nutmeg stirring frequently for a few minutes to warm the pieces of swede and release the aroma of the thyme and nutmeg. Finally add the remaining veg and stir to warm them add the stock and canned beans and bring to the boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook for 30-40 minutes or until the swede is soft. Season with salt and pepper to a taste. White pepper has a delicious warming tingle and suits this dish particularly well.

Confit Capsicum

I’m fascinated by all the different, yet often, interchangeable terms in cooking. I’m also compelled, when writing, to honour Mrs Alexander’s pedantry words to always use synonyms in our writing to add colour and movement to the language. She was my Year 11 and 12 English teacher and perhaps the one teacher who’s words and lessons I remember most. She had a way of loving, nurturing and inspiring her students all at once and they returned that love and ardour tenfold, many of her greatest yet at the time seemingly small lessons still impact me today.

So it is with naming this dish. It reminds me of the zucchini dish of a few weeks ago, cooked low and slow, with few ingredients gently coaxing the natural flavours out like a rose emerging in spring releasing it’s sweet heady fragrance in morning sunshine. Not quite a braise, favouring low temperatures without caramelising nor a stew , the brightly coloured globes bathed in glistening flavoursome olive oil rather than a salty stock. It’s most definitely a confit, though not with the rich gamey flavour of duck that first comes to mind when you think of confit. It seems this method of gently enveloping the ingredients in warmed oil and letting the dish murmur on the stove for a while, rather than sizzle, extends beyond that which it’s more recently become famous for.

As it’s listed below, confit of capsicum will be a nice side for 4-6 alongside some other sides or 2-3 as a main with some protein padding. I like to serve it atop a grilled chicken breast with rice pilaf though I ate some of this with some canned chickpeas for a quick lunch. Topped with a poached egg next to some grilled sourdough for breakfast or an easy end of the week dinner on the couch goes well too.

Ingredients:

¼ C Extra virgin olive oil

3 Eschalots peeled and sliced

3 Garlic cloves peeled and squashed lightly

1 heaped tsp washed salted capers

1 Tbs tomato paste

3 Capsicums various colours, deseeded and chopped in large dice, roughly 2cm square’ish

1 long red chilli pierced with a fork a few times

1 small zucchini finely diced

1 tsp raw or white sugar

1 Tb White balsamic or white wine vinegar

*Basil shreds or whole fresh oregano leaves to serve

Method:

On a low heat in a medium sized shallow pan gently warm the olive oil. Add the eschalots and stir constantly for a minute or two while they settle in to prevent browning. They’ll quieten down to a gently hum and can sit gently like that needing a stir only every few minutes. Cook like this for five minutes then add garlic and capers to the pan, Stir to coat in the oil and allow to lightly cook for another five minutes. Pop the tomato paste in the pan and stir to combine, it won’t amalgamate completely but don’t worry it will sort itself out later. After a couple minutes stirring, tumble in the remaining ingredients mixing everything thoroughly. Cover with a lid, preferably glass so you can keep your eye on it, and gently simmer on a very low heat (I like to use a jet smaller than pan) for 40 minutes stirring occasionally. Season with salt flakes to taste and sprinkle with shredded basil or whole oregano leaves to serve.

Corn and Potato Chowder

Do you still have your wisdom teeth? We’re a family with none now. Our youngest had his removed last Friday. As a parent it was a strange experience stepping through the doors of the very same, very small suburban hospital in which mine were extracted 33 years ago, albeit with a different surgeon thankfully. Day surgery in covid times is very different from what we’re used to, forcing a brief check in and more perfunctory goodbyes. These days a wisdom teeth patient is returned home hours after their surgery where parents don their Florence Nightingale persona and care for the ‘patient.’ Part of this was catering for the long list of eating do’s and don’ts. Lots of soft food, very little texture, acid and colour. It’s been a stretch. I peeked early with Sophie Hansen’s Winter Sun Soup from her book In Good Company, full of flavour, ginger, garlic and turmeric for healing. From there it went downhill quickly, the menu featuring such sterling culinary offerings as overcooked pasta, eggs for days and fluffy white sliced bread. Then I remembered this old favourite. Thankfully the weather is cool in the evenings here now as the seasons turn. Likewise in the northern hemisphere with cold weather lingering you too may be nursing a ‘patient’ in need of something to fill a belly and heart with a big warm bowl of the best comfort there is…soup.

Potato and Corn Chowder is a bowl of goodness to nourish the body and soul. It’s all those comfort flavours, starchy filling potato, smooth rich cream and sweet corn. It’s delicious served with warm crusty bread, hot buttered toast or just a sprinkle of a flavourful cheese like parmesan or gruyere. I like a dollop of sour cream on top because there’s never enough creaminess and a sprinkle of bacon at the end adds a little hit of texture and saltiness.

Serves 4

INGREDIENTS:

1 TB extra virgin olive oil

3 rashers (approx. 150gm) of bacon chopped

1 leek white part chopped

1 garlic clove finely choppe

1 celery stick finely diced

25 gm butter

1 TB plain flour

1 cup fresh or frozen corn kernels

2 cups diced peeled potatoes (roughly 2cm dice)

Generous pinch of freshly ground nutmeg

1 tsp of chopped fresh thyme

1 Ltr chicken or vegetable stock

2/3 C thickened/pouring cream.

METHOD:

In a large heavy based saucepan warm olive oil on medium heat and fry off bacon pieces until almost crispy on edges, it will keep cooking off the heat. Remove bacon with slotted spoon keeping oil and juices from bacon in pan. Turn heat down to low and gently sauté leek for five minutes stirring frequently to prevent browning. Add corn, celery, garlic, thyme and nutmeg and cook for 1-2 minutes until fragrant. Add butter, melt and stir through vegies to coat. Sprinkle in flour and stir to combine thoroughly and cook off flour for a couple minutes. Pour in a small amount of stock whisking to combine with the vegies and roux ensuring there’s no floury lumps. Tip in potatoes and remaining stock stirring gently to combine. Bring to a simmer still over medium to low heat. The liquid should reduce and thicken to a consistency of a soup that’s simmered for hours. Simmer for 40 minutes stirring occasionally to prevent sticking on the bottom but go gently to keep the potatoes in shape. When ready to serve, stir through cream, and stir lightly to combine but still carefully for those little spud cubes.

Serve with a sprinkling of the bacon and top with a dollop of sour cream and or grated cheese such as parmesan or gruyere.

Porcupine Meatball Curry

There’s a lot to love about camping holidays, particularly at the moment. Long days in the sun, swimming, exploring and generally relaxing. Reading books at leisure in the shade of towering old gum trees while the waters of a river or creek gentle bubble by, no chores to draw you away or distract your mind and hands. All this vacation utopia until the tummy rumbles, the one task that follows you everywhere. Now don’t get me wrong I actually enjoy the challenge of a campfire cook and creatively throwing together what’s in the camping fridge but I also enjoy the break and have employed the greatest camping hack ever!! In the week or so leading up to a trip I have a bit of a cook up and vacuum pack meals. Portioned in just the right amount and sealed up for easy and safe packing in the fridge, dinner becomes as complicated as choosing and warming up.

In doing my pre-holiday cook this time around, I tried to think of something new using some old ideas. If you grew up in Australia there’s a whole lot about this recipe that will be familiar. The alchemy of three ideas into one my Porcupine Curry is pretty easy, healthy and can be turned up or down for little palettes or older ones.

PS: This holds almost no semblance to anything evenly remotely authentic but if you love a curry you’ll most likely still enjoy it.

NB: I promise no porcupines were harmed in the making of this dish. 

Ingredients:

1 kg Mince Beef (Any minced/ground meat will work though)

1/3 c uncooked rice

2 tsps grated ginger

2 tsps grated garlic

1 heaped tsp curry powder

1 ½ tsp salt flakes

2 tbs ghee

1 onion sliced

1 c beef stock

2 Tbs Indian style curry paste

1 700gm bottle tomato passata/sauce (the Italian style)

100 gm frozen spinach (vegies sorted)

1 Tb peanut butter

Method:

Combine meat, uncooked rice, ½ the ginger and garlic, curry powder and salt flakes in a bowl. Work with your hands to thoroughly combine. Doing this well, squeezing the mixture through your hands activates the proteins making it sticky enough to amalgamate without additional ingredients like egg and breadcrumbs. Form into balls the size of golf balls or small passionfruit and pop in the fridge on a plate in a single layer to firm up while you make the sauce, we’re not going to brown them.

Heat a fry pan big enough to hold all the meatballs in a single layer over medium heat. Melt/heat ghee until beginning to bubble. Add onion and fry gently over low heat until soft, moving around occasionally to prevent browning, around 5 minutes. Add remaining garlic and ginger and fry 1-2 minutes until fragrant. Turn heat up to medium-high and add curry paste and fry off until also fragrant, 3’ish minutes. Add tomato passata and frozen and spinach, stir to combine until spinach is broken up. Allow sauce to simmer after this for 5 minutes until it’s gently bubbling. Stir in peanut butter until thoroughly broken up and combined. Turn heat down to a gentle simmer and gently return meatballs to the pan in a single layer. Gently spoon sauce over balls to ensure they’re all coated in sauce, cover and simmer over low heat for 15 minutes. This is when the meatballs will start to cook and firm up allowing you to be able to stir later. After 15 minutes remove lid and allow to simmer for a further 45 minutes. This is when the magic happens and the balls will grow little porcupine spikes as the rice cooks in the moisture. Some rice grains will escape and float in the sauce, this is totally fine and delicious. Serve with additional rice and yoghurt and other yummy Indian style accoutrements.

Notes:

If you want to turn the volume down on the spice try using a milder style curry paste before you add less paste to maintain the delicious curry flavour and balance. I’ve used a korma paste in the photo but it’s fine with all styles. The curry powder in the balls doesn’t really add to the heat so start with the paste if you want a milder dish.

If you’re using minced/ground chicken go gently placing the balls in the sauce as it’s a much wetter product. Resist the urge to add an absorbing ingredient like breadcrumbs as this will absorb the sauce and affect the rice cooking well.