Apple Crumble

The door shuts with a thunk, voices waft up through the window on a soft summer breeze from the driveway like birdsong and the baby gurgles in my arms. My Nana alights from my parents’ car, small box in her arms brushing off offers of assistance from my parents. I hear her uneven footsteps approaching the front door the legacy of childhood polio and her happy chatter, coming to spend time with her great grandson a much-anticipated treat and an opportunity to show her love. Even in her eighties she remembers those first days and weeks of parenthood. The pea soup fog of joy, exhaustion and elation are never too far back in the recesses of a mother’s memory. I open the door, babe in arms to her gentle loving smile and box of goodies is offered forth. She crosses the threshold proudly carrying her offerings through to the kitchen unpacking and explaining without skipping a beat. She’s brought us a sheet of Cornish pastie, a recipe passed down from my Cornish great grandmother, my favourite slice for a treat with coffee and a tray or apple crumble. She knows apple deserts are my favourite, this one whipped up in lieu of the apple pie she knows I love, her arthritic hands too frail to work the pastry. I’m flooded with relief knowing dinner is sorted, my heart swollen with love for this beautiful humble woman. She never took a compliment batting them away with shyness and modesty. Her humble nature content to know she’d showed her love for us and made a few nights easier on us we settle in for a visit and cuddles with our new babe and making memories with two lives who, unbeknownst to us, would only enjoy each other’s company for the brief crossover of time in which they both shared the world before she passed.

This is the first memory that always comes front of my mind when I scoop a spoonful of apple crumble into my mouth. One of the first I reflect on when I think about my Nana. It typifies her spirit and reminds me how loved we were. She was a woman of few words not especially effusive, though she loved a chat she relied on actions to show her love and food was top of her list.

When I savour a mouthful of my apple crumble the golden sweet crunch in the topping with a hint of a salty foil melts in the mouth amongst the oozy soft apple bed on which it floats. The additions amongst that apple compote are not entirely those of my nana’s but I think shed approve. Butter, sugar and Calvados blend to create a not too sweet caramel threading it’s way through the soft apple slices and bubbling up through the crumble topping. Strictly speaking this is a little off script from the traditional one of my childhood but I think Nana would approve. Also controversial is the absence of oats. I’m not sure why our family’s crumble didn’t have but as a result crumble with oats has never been my preference.

The addition of Clavados is my modern twist not something you’d have seen in the kitchen of traditional country cooks of old. If you want to omit the booze just substitute with apple juice or for a little tang, lemon juice.

Ingredients:

140 gm Plain flour

100 gm brown sugar

2 tbs desiccated coconut

½ tsp salt flakes

125 gm butter cold and cubed

1 tsp cinnamon

¼ tsp all spice

¼ tsp ground ginger

5 cooking apples peeled, quartered and sliced

30 gm butter extra

2 tbs Calvados

2 tbs caster sugar

1 tsp vanilla

1 tb demerara sugar

Method:

Preheat oven to 180c.

Combine, flour, sugar, coconut and salt. Toss through butter cubes and rub through until the mixture is like damp clumpy sand. Set aside.

Peel, core and slice apples and place in large bowl. Pour calvados, sprinkle over sugar and combine vanilla extract. Toss this all together and pour into a well greased ceramic or glass ovenproof dish. Pinch off pieces of the remaining butter dotting over the apple slices. Sprinkle over crumble topping mixture crumbling with your fingers as you scatter it over. Don’t worry if there are gaps as this allows the juices to bubble up in between.

Pop in the oven for 45 minutes uncovered baking until golden brown and oozy at the edges.

Allow to cool slightly before serving as the syrup that forms during cooking can be very hot. Serve with custard and or cream. My husband like his with ice cream, I forgive him this transgression, so long as it’s good vanilla ice cream. My boys and I prefer custard of the homemade variety. The below is my go-to custard recipe, perfect every time and never fails. It’s delicious for a few days stored in a sealed container or jar in the fridge if it lasts that long.

Shared with the generous permission from Sophie Hansen from her second book A Basket by the Door.

Combine 1 ¼ C each of milk and cream in a saucepan with a halved and scraped vanilla bean and it’s seeds over medium heat. Warm until almost boiling. Remove from heat and allow to cool a little. Whisk together 1/3 c Caster sugar with 1 Tbs caster sugar and 6 egg yolks until pale and creamy (freeze the left over whites for a pavlova another day). Splash some of the warm milk/cream mixture into the egg mixture and mix until well combine then slowly our in the remaining while whisking until well combined. Return to the saucepan and stir over low heat until thickened and coating the back of wooden spoon, about five minutes.

If you’ve bought a bottle of calvados to try in this recipe and aren’t sure what to do with it you might like to try some of these, you can thank me later.

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.

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.