June is almost over, and that means it's winter in Canberra now for real. This tree is now completely bare, so I'm glad I got a picture of it early in the month when it was in its full autumn glory. Here are some of the other things we were up to this month:
DP's birthday, which involved a cake disaster of epic proportions - I used a cake stand I'd never used before, and it overbalanced while I was frosting, causing the top layer to fall on the floor. We managed to salvage it, somewhat; it didn't look too good, but it was still an edible finale to DP's traditional birthday dinner of steak au poivre, garlic mashed potatoes, and sauteed greens.
Winter in Canberra is seriously dry, and not just for humans. I noticed that all my wooden utensils were looking dried out, so after some extensive internet searching on various methods, I decided to try walnut oil. My utensils loved it, and so did my hands, plus it's food safe and a little goes a long way. I recommend trying it.
As part of my continuing efforts to waste not, I collected all the stems I had chopped off of several batches of kale and spinach, tossed them with oil, and roasted them as an experiment. The results were promising, but the idea needs more work. Stay tuned.
Miss B's school had a phys. ed. event where all the students rotated around a series of activities placed all around the grounds. This meant lots of extra parents around to help with organizing, and I offered to bring something in to supplement the food we'd be cooking the canteen. I made a batch of oat-fruit bars filled with homemade strawberry-quince jam. (Note quality-control sample at bottom left.)
On one of my canteen days, I also got a special treat - we've had a grandmother visiting in Canberra for several weeks from Canada, and she's been volunteering with us in the canteen as part of spending time with her granddaughter. As a goodbye gift, she brought in a batch of butter tarts, a classic Canadian dessert I've heard lots about but never had the chance to try. They're very rich and delicious - kind of like tiny pecan pies without the pecans.
DP went on a two-week trip, which always means special treats for Miss B - including one of her favorites for Sunday-morning breakfast: rainbow pancakes.
Miss B wanted to make a card for her grandmother's birthday, and I decided to join her. (I didn't notice until I posted this picture that I spelled 'Happy' with 3 p's - apparently I got carried away with the rainbow coloring!)
And today DP came home from his trip, laden with gifts for all - including a ceremonial (but real, and very heavy!) kukri that was presented to him as a thank you by the regiment he visited.
How's your June been?
Exploring food and other details of daily life on three (and counting) continents
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Friday, June 28, 2013
English cuisine
No,
this is not an oxymoron, I swear. Really, it’s not.
During
the near-decade that we lived in Oxford, one of the questions I was most
commonly asked about England by non-English people was, “How’s the food?”
Usually accompanied by an anticipatory grimace, prompted by all the stories
they’d heard about awful English food, or by memories of crummy meals they’d
eaten themselves in tourist-trap London pubs.
My
standard answer was not what they expected. I usually responded, “Expensive.”
Oxford
is by far the most expensive place I have ever lived, and we spent our whole
time there living on essentially one income. (First DP was a student and I
worked full-time; then he worked full-time and I worked part-time and looked
after Miss B.) Even grocery shopping was pricey, and eating out was an
occasional luxury, usually involving a cheap-and-cheerful curry at our favorite
Indian or burgers at one of the local pubs.
But
once in a blue moon, we’d get the chance for a really nice meal out – visiting parents,
work dos, or a splurge we’d saved up for. It was at one of these that I first
discovered sticky toffee pudding. From then on, I sought it out whenever I went
to a restaurant serving classic English food. It is far and away my favorite
example of true English sweet cookery –
a sucker-punch of moist, rich, toffee-soaked deliciousness. It's the perfect end to a Sunday lunch on a cold winter day.
Sticky
toffee pudding
Adapted from Sticky, Chewy, Messy, Gooey
My main adaptation of this recipe was to halve it, and even this makes for 6 serious servings. The original recipe suggests baking the cake in a muffin tin for ease of serving later; I use my dessert shell pan, which cooks the batter into 6 cakes, each with a bowl-shaped indentation in the top, the better to fill with toffee sauce and ice cream.
Adapted from Sticky, Chewy, Messy, Gooey
My main adaptation of this recipe was to halve it, and even this makes for 6 serious servings. The original recipe suggests baking the cake in a muffin tin for ease of serving later; I use my dessert shell pan, which cooks the batter into 6 cakes, each with a bowl-shaped indentation in the top, the better to fill with toffee sauce and ice cream.
Cake
1
cup/6 oz/180 g chopped dates
.75
cup/6 oz/180 ml water
.75
tsp/4 g baking soda/bicarbonate of soda (divided)
1
cup/4 oz/120 g all-purpose/plain flour
pinch
salt
.5
tsp/3 g baking powder
.75
stick/3 oz/90 g butter, at room temperature
.75
cup/6 oz/180 g firmly packed light brown sugar
2
eggs
1
tsp/5 ml vanilla
Toffee
sauce
1 stick/4 oz/120 g butter
1 stick/4 oz/120 g butter
1.5
cup/12 oz/360 g firmly packed dark brown sugar
1
cup/8 oz/240 ml heavy cream
.5
tsp/3 ml vanilla
Preheat
the oven to 350F/180C and grease baking pan.
Cake
Combine dates and water in a small saucepan over medium-low heat and bring just
to a boil. Let simmer, uncovered, until all the water is absorbed, 10-15
minutes, and the dates have softened. Remove pan from heat, stir in .5 tsp of
the baking soda, set aside for about 15-20 minutes while you get on with the
rest of the process.
Sift
together flour, salt, remaining baking soda, and baking powder, and set aside.
In a medium-large mixing bowl, beat the butter and sugar until light and
fluffy, then add the eggs one at a time, followed by the vanilla. Fold the
dates into the batter, followed by the dry ingredients, until just combined.
Divide
the cake mixture evenly among the 6 cups, then place pan in the oven. Bake
until a tester comes out clean, 15-25 minutes.
Toffee
sauce Combine butter and sugar in a medium-large saucepan over medium-low heat,
and let them melt together, 5-10 minutes. Add the cream, vanilla, and salt, and
bring the mixture to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook until the sauce
thickens, stirring often, for another 5-10 minutes.
Assembly
Spoon 1 large tablespoon of warm sauce into each serving bowl, then place cake
bowl on top. Drizzle another 2 tablespoons into each cake bowl and over the
sides. Top with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and serve warm.
Serves
6 generous portions.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Pasta bake
When
you’re halfway through a bout of solo parenting (as I currently am), nothing breaks
up the monotony like a mum-and-kid playdate. Bonus points if it’s another solo-parenting
mum who is also craving social interaction, a change of scene, and some quality
adult conversation.
Yesterday
Miss B and I met up with our pals LB and Mr W for an afternoon outing to see
Despicable Me 2 (even more minions!). When we made the plan, I’d invited them
back here afterwards for some playtime and dinner afterwards. Knowing I’d want to be able
to concentrate on the conversation, I opted to get most of the prep out of the
way before we left for the movies, and made a pasta bake.
Creamy
pasta bake
For
this concoction, I used a combination of ingredients that I frequently make as
a pasta dish, with some adaptations to make it work in baked form (mainly a roux sauce rather than a pan sauce).
Pasta
1
lb/450 g short pasta of your choice (I used gemelli)
1
Tbsp/.5 oz/15g butter
Mix-ins
4
slices bacon, chopped,
1
shallot, peeled and chopped
¼
cup/2 oz/60 ml white wine
1
bunch spinach, washed and roughly chopped
Sauce
2
Tbsp/1 oz/30 g butter
4
Tbsp/1 oz/30 g flour
¼
cup/2 oz/60 ml white wine
1
cup/8 oz/240 ml stock or similar (I was out, so used the pasta cooking water)
1
cup/8oz/240 ml pouring cream
2
oz/60 g cheddar cheese
pinch
cayenne pepper
salt
Topping
2-3
handfuls of shredded parmigiano reggiano cheese
2-3
Tbsp of grated pecorino romano cheese
Bring
a large pot of salted water to the boil, then add pasta and cook until just
edible and still very al dente (8-10 minutes). Drain, reserving 1-2 cups of the
pasta water. Return to the pasta pot (minimizing washing up!) and mix in 1 Tbsp
of butter to keep from sticking. Set aside.
While
the pasta cooks, you can get on with the mix-ins and sauce.
Mix-ins
In a large skillet, cook the bacon over medium heat until it begins to brown
and crisp, 5-7 minutes. Once you start to see signs of browning, add the shallot
and continue to sauté, stirring frequently. When the bacon is looking crisp and
the shallots have softened, add the wine and stir briskly to scrape up all the
good stuff that will be stuck to the bottom of the skillet. Add the spinach and
leave to wilt for another 5-7 minutes, stirring regularly.
Sauce Melt butter in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat, then add flour and stir
together with a whisk to make a roux.*
When the roux has cooked
sufficiently, add wine and continue stirring. Add remaining ingredients in the
order listed, stirring frequently to bring everything together. Bring just to
boiling point and let simmer for a bit to thicken the sauce up. Make sure the
cheese melts and finish off by salting to taste.
Assembly Lightly grease the inside of a casserole dish (I used an oval 2.8-liter which held this amount of food perfectly). Empty skillet of mix-ins into
the waiting pasta and mix together, then pour over half the sauce and mix
again. Pour the whole mixture into the prepared casserole dish and spread out
to even depth. Pour in the rest of the sauce.
This
is the point where I covered the dish with foil and put it in the refrigerator
for 3 hours. When we got back from the cinema, I cooked it as follows.
Preheat
oven to 180C/350F. Remove casserole dish from fridge, but leave covered. When oven is preheated,
put in casserole and leave to cook for 30-40 minutes, until beginning to brown
and bubble on the edges. At this point, remove foil, add topping cheeses, and
return to oven for 10-15 minutes.
Let
stand for 10 minutes before serving if possible. Generously served 2 adults and
2 children, with probably another 4 servings left over.
*
See here for an in-depth discussion of making roux-based sauces and gravies.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Apple crumble
Sometimes
I feel as though I should rename this blog “Roving Lemon’s Cast-Iron Skillets,”
given the number of photos in which one features. But they are so reliable and
versatile that I find a reason to use one nearly every day. I don’t even bother
assigning them cabinet space anymore – they just live on the stovetop, stacked
up in a pile.
For
my latest skillet trick, I used one to make Skillet Apple Crumble. Having agreed to host a guest
lecturer on a weeknight for DP, I was racing around the kitchen, trying to shoehorn
starter and dessert prep in with dinner
prep, and have the kitchen looking remotely presentable when company arrived.
When I make apple crumble, I usually sauté the apples quickly in butter and
cinnamon sugar on the stovetop, before dumping them in a baking dish, piling
crumble topping on, and sticking in the oven. It was in the midst of the sauté step
that I thought, “Why dirty another dish?” So I added a batch of crumble topping
directly to the skillet, and into the oven the whole thing went.
DP
is not usually a crumble fan, but after he got back from dropping off our
guest, he said, “Hey, that crumble was actually good. I would eat that again.”
I’m
not saying it was the skillet. But then again, I’m not saying it wasn’t.
Skillet apple crumble
Apple part
half
a can of ginger ale*
a
large handful of dried cranberries
4
Granny Smith apples
~
2 Tbsp/1 oz/30 g butter
~
2 Tbsp/1 oz/30g cinnamon sugar
Crumble
part
½
cup/2 oz/60 g whole wheat flour
½
cup/1.5 oz/45 g rolled oats
½
cup/3 oz/90 g raw sugar
¼
cup/2 oz/60 g butter
2
Tbsp/1 oz/30 g maple syrup
Preheat
the oven to 350F/180C. Pour the ginger ale into a shallow bowl and add the
cranberries. Leave to steep while you get on with everything else.
Peel
and core the apples, then chop into chunks. Melt the butter in a medium
cast-iron skillet over low-medium heat, and add the apples when the butter starts
to bubble. Sauté the apples in the butter until lightly browned, stirring
frequently and sprinkling with cinnamon sugar. Remove from the heat and stir in
the soaked cranberries until evenly distributed, then spread out the fruit
mixture into an even layer in the bottom of the skillet.
While
apples are cooking, place crumble topping ingredients in a food processor and
blitz to a uniform rubbly consistency. Scatter thickly over fruit, then place
the skillet in the oven and cook for about 30 minutes, or until the top is
browned.
Serves
6.**
*
I used this because I had an open can needing to be used up. You could
substitute any kind of juice.
**
I served this with pouring cream, which was good. Then I ate leftovers the next
day for breakfast with a big dollop of Greek yogurt, and that was so much
better.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Saturday digest
Cooking chocolate from Germany - food souvenirs are the best kind |
How
can it be the beginning of June already? Here’s the roundup of the latest
doings round here.
Work/school
Term 2 is nearly half over, and Miss B is trucking along happily. (Bouncing
along might be more accurate in her case.) The other week she had her first
experience of full-blown standardized testing, taking the NAPLAN along with
every other Year 3 student in Australia. Her school did their best to make it a
non-stressful experience, but I for one am glad it’s two years until the next
round. DP, who promised us his workload would ease up somewhat around this
time, has been as good as his word and has been sighted at home on the
occasional weekday between the hours of 7am and 6pm. I’ve had a fairly quiet week – not one nighttime
conference call! – but my To Do list remains chronically overstuffed. I did
record a significant milestone earlier this month: my organization’s
Twitter account, which I manage, hit 20,000 followers, a little more than four
years (and nearly 3,000 tweets!) since we first joined up. So I’m pretty pleased
with that.
Recreation
The big news is that this week we booked tickets for our trip to North America
later this year, which involved sorting out a fairly complicated itinerary and
then spending 2.5 hours working through it with a travel agent (after both DP
and I crashed the Qantas website trying to do it ourselves). But it all looked
right at the end and we should be good to go (fingers crossed). Other than
that, Miss B has been having a steady stream of afterschool playdates, and I’ve
been plowing through this month’s book club selection: Cloudstreet by Tim
Winton, widely hailed as a ‘modern Australian classic.’ The jury is still out
on that, but it’s definitely educational for a non-Australian. More to come
when I finish, perhaps.
Food
Shorter days and colder nights have meant lots of familiar, rib-sticking comfort foods
lately:
- oatmeal
for breakfast at least twice a week (savory oatmeal, that is)
- the
disruptive bolognese sauce continues to prove its worth - and the longer you
cook it, the better it gets
- lemon-mustard chicken remains a reliable workhorse in my recipe rotation; one of the first
things I learned to cook on my own, and still going strong
- I
found curly kale at the farmers’ market for the first time in nearly a year! So
it’s back to a steady supply of kale salad
- and an old favorite – Nigella Lawson’s Dense Chocolate Loaf Cake (known around here as Brownie Cake) - which I was reminded of recently and have made twice in the past two weeks in response to demand (apparently it’s the best thing for morning tea ever)
Weather
Cold, grey and wet this weekend; described by a fellow transplant to Canberra
as ‘fabulously miserable’.
Miss
B’s Quote of the Week During a conversation about jellyfish:
Miss
B: So why does it hurt when they sting you?
RL:
Well, they must release some kind of chemical when they touch you that makes
your skin hurt.
Miss
B (obviously finding this explanation similar to another one I had provided
recently): Oh, so they’re like the onions of the ocean!
How are your onions?
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