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?

 

Comfort food

This past week has not been one I will look back on fondly - as a native Bostonian, as an American, or, frankly, as a human being. By the time Friday night dinnertime rolled around, the hunt for the second Boston Marathon bombing suspect was entering its seventh hour. Updates were coming in by the minute (and sometimes by the second) in real time on Twitter, and I was following along from the other side of the world. The temperature in Canberra was dropping steadily. I was ready for something hot and comforting for dinner, grateful that all my loved ones in Boston were safe and well, and thinking of all those – in Boston and beyond – who are not so fortunate.

One Fund Boston

American Red Cross of Central Texas

Tomato-rice soup

Growing up, we always called this “rice and potatoes”, and we ate it like clockwork every other Friday night (alternating with pasta e fagioli) during the colder months, accompanied by crackers and cheese and grilled cheese toast. I’ve never found anything exactly like it, so I don’t know if my grandmother invented it or if it’s just never made its way into a cookbook. It’s full of starch, topped with cheese, and very comforting. I’ve tinkered with the recipe a little bit (mainly the soffrito at the beginning) to give it a little more flavor complexity, without diverging from its cucina povera origins.

2 Tbsp/30 ml olive oil

half a medium red onion

half a medium carrot

half a medium celery stick

1 clove garlic

2 slices spicy salami

1 bottle (700g) tomato passata or equivalent fresh or canned tomatoes

1 medium-sized white potato

1 cup long-grain white rice

water

salt

grated pecorino romano cheese, for serving

Heat olive oil over low heat in a medium soup pot. Chop the onion, carrot, celery, garlic, and salami finely into a soffrito (I use my mini chopper for this), and add to the pan. Cook for 3-5 minutes until the vegetables begin to soften.

Pour passata into pot; fill container ¾ full with water. Swirl around to get all traces of tomato, then add to pot. Stir thoroughly and leave to heat to a simmer.

While soup is heating, wash and peel potato, then cut into dice. (Size is up to you; the smaller they are, the faster they cook.) Add potato dice to soup, stir again, and leave to cook for 20-30 minutes, until beginning to be tender.

When potatoes are on their way to being cooked but not quite there, stir in rice and leave to cook again, 10-15 minutes, until rice is cooked but still somewhat firm.

When rice is cooked, stir soup and check consistency; thin with water if necessary. Add salt to taste and serve hot, topped with grated cheese.

Serves 6 as a main course accompanied by bread/crackers and cheese, with probably some left over.

Note: the rice continues to absorb the liquid, so as this cools it looks less and less like soup and more like risotto. If you have enough to reheat later, add some water to the mixture to get it back to souplike consistency.

Pasta salad

Not being a huge mayonnaise fan (although the homemade version is a much more convincing argument for its merits than the storebought kind), it took me a long time to warm up to the idea of pasta salad. Add in all the people among my family and friends who can't or don't want to eat mayo for various reasons, and it becomes an even less appealing option. But then again, remember that this is pasta we're talking about here - pretty much my single most favorite food item. And then you'll understand why I still remember the day, probably 15 years ago now, when I discovered a recipe for pasta salad that didn't involve mayo; that I could feed to vegans and people with high cholesterol; that I could leave out in the sun at cookouts without fear of giving everyone food poisoning. I've been making variations of it ever since.

Tomato-pasta salad
Adapted from Betty Crocker's 40th Anniversary Cookbook
I haven't looked at the original recipe for this in years, but I knew exactly where to find it. I had never made a pasta salad before I found this; since I have I've made dozens, and passed along the recipe almost every time. When the audience permits, I've added variations such as chopped prosciutto or salami, shredded pecorino romano, or olives. It's very adaptable.

1 450 g/16 oz package short pasta
4 Tbsp olive oil
4 medium tomatoes, chopped
4 green onions, chopped
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
4 tsp balsamic vinegar3 tsp chopped fresh basil leaves
~10 grinds black pepper

Cook pasta as directed on package in salted boiling water and take off heat while it is still a bit more al dente than you might like. Drain; rinse in cold water to stop cooking; drain again. Dump pasta into a large mixing bowl and mix oil through first, to keep from sticking together. Add in remaining ingredients and mix thoroughly. Cover and refrigerate about 2 hours, or until chilled.

Serves 10-12 people as a side.

Tomato soup

I don’t really have anything clever to say about this soup, but that’s kind of appropriate. Because this soup is a great recipe to have on hand when you’re out of clever ideas, or energy, or patience, or time, or fresh vegetables.

All of these are excellent reasons why this is a staple in my Friday-night dinner rotation.

Musical fruit

I’ve already written about a couple of my food prejudices, deeply entrenched from childhood. The red pepper one disappeared of its own accord, and I’m still working on the whitefish one.

Here’s another one I’m still working on: beans. As in, legumes/pulses. (Not green beans. I love those.)

I’m always kind of fascinated that other people go out of their way to eat beans: that they actually like them. In England, baked beans on toast was everyone’s favorite storecupboard meal, from tiny children on up; and since I’ve moved here, every cookout I’ve attended has included a huge, enthusiastically consumed dish of baked beans on the buffet table. I know people who eat beans and rice as part of their regular dinner repertoire, and they’re not even vegetarians. And don’t even get me started on chili.

Tomato salad

I haven’t cooked dinner for seven days. I can’t remember the last time that happened. We’re visiting in Boston for a week, and our priorities for the trip were to organize a mini-move of some of our belongings from here out to the new house; to catch up with as many local friends and family as possible; and to squeeze in beach time wherever we could.

Well, the movers have left with six boxes packed full of miscellaneous household items, and as many pieces of furniture. We’ve managed two days at the beach. Dinners have mostly involved visiting favorite local spots with siblings, nieces, parents, and friends in tow.

Dinner guests

One of the lesser-known drawbacks to being in life limbo is a dearth of people to cook for. In some ways this is for the best, given the corresponding lack of cooking utensils, but that doesn’t make it any easier to adjust to. I read other people’s blogs where they describe cooking up vats of goodies to feed family, friends, neighbors, school groups, and random passersby, and honestly, I feel a little envious. I’ve been bringing homebaked treats to every event I’ve been invited to (adhering to Sparkly Em’s philosophy of “Make friends through cake”), but Miss B’s preschool doesn’t allow homemade food to be brought in (WTH?) and we don’t have enough chairs—or plates—in our serviced apartment to have more than one dinner guest at a time.

Week two

I had hoped that Week Two would be a bit more relaxing than Week One, but this did not turn out to be the case. In fact, if I factor in the three early-morning teleconferences for work and the frantic rush to assemble paperwork from three continents for 1) attempting to qualify for a mortgage and 2) enrolling Miss B in preschool, it might actually have been worse.

There was one improvement, and that was that we ate dinner at home almost every night. Even in the midst of total uproar, disruption, chaos, or other kerfuffle, knowing that I have food in the fridge and a plan for dinner soothes me. I may not be able to get my hands on the paperwork for the student loans DP took out 11 years ago, but I can put something filling on the table. And the knowledge that Miss B is going to get something other than pizza or mac'n'cheese from a box (at $6 a pop, no less) on her plate, plus some actual vegetables, is also comforting.

As long as whatever I'm making doesn't require too much equipment, that is. Because this temporary kitchen's is, to put it kindly, basic. Three saucepans, one flimsy frying pan, and a couple of plastic bowls and utensils. That's it. No machines, of course, other than a coffee maker. So no way to puree soup, which is something I do to nearly every soup I make regularly. Time for a little creative adaptation.

Necessarily chunky tomato soup
Perfect for making any kitchen feel cozy on a frosty winter night--and the only equipment you need is a knife and a good-sized pot.

2 Tbsp olive oil
2 medium carrots
2 sticks celery
1 medium onion
1 (28 oz) or 2 (400 g) can(s) tomatoes*
1 qt/900+ ml stock of your choice**
4 oz/125 g spaghetti, broken into small pieces
salt & pepper

Heat the olive oil gently on medium heat while cutting the vegetables into small dice; add these to the pot in the order listed and saute for a few minutes, until they are starting to soften and color.

Pour in tomatoes and stir to distribute vegetables evenly. Pour stock into empty tomato can(s) and swish around to get all tomato residue out, then pour into soup pot. Stir to combine; cover partway, bring to a boil and simmer. Cook for about 15 minutes, then add spaghetti. Cook for another 10-15 minutes, or until spaghetti is al dente. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and add a bit more liquid if the soup is too thick for you.

Top with grated cheese and serve immediately, with warm bread and a cheese plate alongside.

Serves 4, with leftovers.

* You can use any kind of tomatoes you prefer--whole, chopped, or pureed. I went for pureed because I wanted a fairly smooth consistency.
** You may not need this amount of stock, depending upon how thick you want your soup to be. I usually reserve some of it, in case I want to thin the soup at the end.

Building blocks

Canberra has gone from being freezing cold to summer-hot more or less overnight. So I'm thinking about salads again, particularly one that I came up with last year, after reading a post on 5 second rule about a BLT salad. I loved this idea, but decided to take it one step further—just as I always do in restaurants, when I'm offered the choice of a BLT or a club sandwich. Bacon, lettuce, and tomato are pretty fantastic all by themselves, of course, but add some good chicken or turkey and you've made RL's day.

Chicken club salad
Slapdash ranch dressing*
2 Tbsp mayonnaise
1 Tbsp Greek yogurt
1 small clove garlic
2 basil leaves
½ tsp dried oregano

Salad
1-2 pieces bacon
4-6 leaves of romaine
6-8 grape tomatoes
½ chicken breast, cooked and sliced**
salt & freshly ground black pepper
handful of croutons

Put all dressing ingredients in a mini-processor and blend. Thin with a little bit of milk or lemon juice if you think the consistency is too thick. Set aside. ***

Cook the bacon using your preferred method—frying pan, oven, microwave. Chop into thin slices and dump into a bowl big enough to mix the salad. Wash, dry, shred, and add the romaine. Wash, dry, quarter, and add the tomatoes. Add the chicken. Season with salt and pepper.

Add half the dressing and toss thoroughly. Taste and decide if you want more dressing or seasoning, and repeat as necessary. Top with croutons and serve immediately.

Serves 1, accompanied by a very large glass of ice water.

* So called because I didn't have any of the traditional herbs for ranch dressing on hand, so I just improvised. (You could also use bottled ranch dressing, naturally, but I didn't have any of that either.)
** Having leftover cooked chicken is my main impetus for making this salad. You don't want to be cooking chicken specially--then you'll just be getting all hot and bothered, instead of cooling off, as this salad intends.
*** This makes a pretty small amount of dressing, but you can easily double it. For me, a little thick, creamy dressing goes a long way.

Forward planning

I was very proud of myself for remembering all the necessary food items for our weekend in Jervis Bay. However, as always, I forgot to bring any empty containers for storing leftovers. Or even something like cling film or foil to cover leftovers stored in a bowl. So I entertained myself by juggling the few small containers we had, plus a lot of plastic bags, to get everything safely stored away, especially when the time came to leave on Sunday.

What’s that you say? I didn’t really lug leftovers back to Canberra, did I?

What a silly question.

Exotically familiar

Dateline: Auckland, New Zealand

That's right, Roving Lemon is on the road and posting from the other side of the Tasman Sea. This is my second visit to New Zealand and, if possible, I've fallen even more in love with it than I did the first time, seven years ago. The topography in and around Auckland--green hills and ocean views everywhere you look--makes me feel right at home, while the dormant volcanoes that dot the landscape provide a bit of spectacular contrast and a visual reminder that you're on the tectonically active Pacific Rim.

Luckily for me, the friends that we're visiting also like nothing better than a bit of good food, so our visit thus far has been a procession of delicious treats. Over the weekend I got the chance to go to not one but two regional farmers' markets. We sampled a variety of specialty products and local produce; I saw and tasted some fruits I'd never heard of or seen before (more on that later); and talked to people from all over, from locals to European visitors to longtime transplants who came from Philadelphia once upon a time.

Among the huge variety of specialty products we had the opportunity to look at, touch, smell and taste, we made sure to pay a visit to the only producer of buffalo-milk mozzarella in the whole of NZ. On top of some surprisingly good winter tomatoes from a few stalls over, with basil, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper scattered over, it made a fantastic insalata caprese starter for dinner: authentic Italian taste, locally made.