Quick prawn curry

A glut of cherry tomatoes would have to be one of life’s most charming problems. Small, juicy and impossibly red the best solution is to pop them straight into your gob and enjoy the tomatoey explosion.

Whilst we have made a fair dent in their bountiful harvest by eating them straight from the scraggy vine the past 3 weeks have seen many a meal inspired by long dreamy Mediterranean days. We also have an abundance of basil, so pizza, pasta and bbq salads have dominated precedings and its time for a change.

This is a “curry” I remember my Mum making. I use the word loosely as it is the very antithesis of heavy slow cooked meaty brasises. It’s ridiculously light and easy and can literally be on the table in minutes.

Notably absent of chilli this is a chance to play with different flavours.  You could enrich it with a splash of cream, but more often than not, I don’t have any on hand so can vouch that it is not essential. Thankfully most of the ingredients can be found lurking around the pantry.

Quick, healthy and delicious; there is alot to like about this recipe.

 

If using frozen prawns make sure they are fully defrosted and drain them of excess juices.

600 g raw prawns

1 Tbs olive oil
1 large onion (sliced)
4 cloves of garlic (sliced)
2cm knob of ginger
4 cardamom pods (bruised)
3 teaspoons ground coriander
3 teaspoons cumin seeds
1 teaspoon garam Marsala
A pinch of cinnamon
Salt and pepper (err on the generous side)
400g diced tinned tomatoes
½ a punnet of cherry tomatoes
Juice of half a lime

1.       Heat oil in a large frypan and cook onion and garlic until soft.  Add the finely grated, ginger and spices, cook until fragrant.

2.       Add the tinned tomatoes and mix well, bring up to a vigorous boil.

3.       Add the prawns and cook briskly for 1 min, then turn the heat down and allow to simmer for another minute or two, stirring as you go.

4.       Add in the cherry tomatoes and a squeeze of lime juice just before serving alongside a mountain of fluffy white rice.

Pimped coleslaw

‘Strayla day is all about the BBQ. Nothing stirs up a sense of national pride like the waft of sausages sizzling and onions frying.   It's a day steeped in nostalgia, as we recall the summers of our youth and marvel at how far we have come from the days of Grandma’s horrifying beetroot jelly and onion in vinaigrette.

I am a big believer that history and contemporary life can go hand in hand and have subsequently tarted up the once dowdy coleslaw beyond recognition. Notably absent of thick mayonnaise and grated carrot, I am not  even sure if the presence of cabbage is enough to qualify it as a slaw. Either way the moreish texture and refreshing flavours are what I am after; so in the spirit of a true blue Aussie sheila I do as I please.

Crunchy lemon hazelnut and chive coleslaw.

1/2 cup blanched hazelnuts

1 clove of garlic (crushed)

Finely grated rind of 1 lemon

1 tsp olive oil

Sea salt and black pepper

½ cabbage

¼ cup chopped chives

¼ cup chopped parsley

Juice of 1 lemon

3 Tbs olive oil

First make the nut crumble by chopping the nuts and then mixing through the garlic, teaspoon of oil, lemon rind, salt and pepper to taste.

Toast the seasoned and coated nuts in a frypan over medium heat until lightly golden and irresistibly aromatic. Resist the urge to nibble some, and place to one side to cool while you get on with the rest.

Using a mandolin slicer for preference, shave the cabbage into a lump of fine strands. Add the herbs, lemon juice and olive oil and mix well to ensure and even distribution.

Sprinkle the cooled nuts on top and toss lightly.

Salad days

Here we are after a summer of fun.

Routine is beckoning, but bathers, sand and the sweet scent of sun cream lotion still happily make
their presence felt in our day to day life as we wait for the crescendo that is school opening its doors for another year.

I have taken my annual vow of health and well being, and my husband was a terrific sport keeping a straight face when I declared that no wine would pass my lips for the next week. I also made note of mentioning increased efficiency, renewed vitality, and a deep commitment to frugality; but he had busied himself doing the dishes whilst I was babbling away, so I didn’t push the point too far.

Suffice to say here is a little recipe that ticks most of the boxes. Maximising seasonal goodness this jolly little salad is as refreshing as it is easy on a hot summer’s day. And yes; it would go particularly well with a cheeky little glass of summer holiday white wine.

 

Green bean, orange and almond salad.

This is such a joyful looking salad that celebrates Australian fare. Look out for Valancia oranges, their slightly greenish skin belies their juicy interior, they are our summer orange crop and vastly superior to any out of season import.

 

400 grams green beans

100g snow peas

Flesh of half an orange

¼ cup whole almonds

For the dressing

Juice of half an orange

2 Tbs seeded mustard

3 Tbs olive oil

Salt and peppe

Top and tail the peas and snow peas. I tend to serve the snow peas raw in the salad and only blanch the beans to balance tenderness versus crunch.

Blanch the beans by bringing a large pan of water to a brisk boil. Cook the beans in the boiling water for no more than 2-3 minutes. Drain them immediately under plenty of cold running water to stop them overcooking and help retain their bright green colour.  Dry well.

Combine the beans and snow peas on a serving dish, cover and chill until required.

Make the dressing by combining dressing ingredients in a small jar and shaking vigorously to combine – check for seasoning and adjust if necessary.

Just before serving: In a frypan over medium heat, roast the whole almonds to make them beautifully crunchy and flavoursome. This should take about 2 mins. Roughly chop to create lots of interesting shapes and textures. Cut the orange into small chunks, being sure to discard any pith or seeds.

Toss the dressing through the chilled beans and scatter the oranges and almond atop. 

Whoops - forgot to go to the shops this weekend!

Come Sunday eve a quick peek reveals that Mother Hubbard is alive and well and has ransacked my pantry.

I actually find it strangely thrilling to be able to feed a family of four with a couple of potatoes and afew pieces of ham retrieved from the depths of the fridge. It makes me feel that I could protect my brood if things turned grim. 

There was little complaint as the kids and husband gobbled their way through these tasty little morsels. So, if you are scant on ingredients, cashola or a spot of inspiration, give this quick chip chopped potato and corn fry up a whirl.

 

Crunchy potato rosti.

3 large potatoes peeled and coarsely grated

1 small egg lightly beaten

2 Tbs corn kernals (I use frozen)

80 grams of grated cheese

 chopped parsley

Salt and pepper

 butter

2Tbs olive oil.

 

Place grated potato in a colander and squeeze out as much liquid as possible from potatoes. (I know this sounds like a phaff – but it really does make a difference and really isn’t that hard).

Lightly whisk egg and combine with potato, corn, cheese, parsley and seasoning.

Heat butter and oil in a frying pan. Working in batches drop rounds of the mixture into the pan. Fry for at least 4 mins or until base is golden and crunchy. Flip and cook remaining side.

Drain on paper towel and keep warm in a low oven. Serve with assorted remnants from the crisper of your fridge and a Sunday night movie.

Spring Fling

Spring is a series of double edge swords. Sunny days are delightful but the horror of having to reveal legs that have been enjoying a fuzzy winter hibernation is enough to cancel out some of the magic.

Then there are the jolly little blossoms, bursting forth to declare good times ahead, seems such a shame that many of them make me sneeze and wheeze.

Mother Nature has a curious tendency to keep us on our toes.

Undeniably the best bit about spring is the reappearance of bright green veggies. I nearly wept with joy the other day when I spied iceberg lettuce at a reasonable price. However the poster girl for spring veg is unquestionably the asparagus.

The temperate crop only pops up its pointy head after the winter chills have passed. Its pencil thin spears require just a mere steam, and for my preference retain a subtle crunch. Only in season for a short window it creates a giddy sense of luxury to feast upon on it.

In the spirit of celebrating seasonality I can’t help but notice that the tomatoes haven’t quite hit their stride yet, still looking a tad pale and appley.  It seems a shame that these 2 splendid vegetables should not grown in greater unison.

I have taken it upon myself to bring them together and have employed a dash of perky piquancy from a jar of shop bought harrissa to make the whole thing sing.

This is the sort of lunch skinny people eat, and I can’t help but commend them for the restrained deliciousness a plate like this delivers. Yes indeed afew more days of lunches of this calibre and I may well be feeling fit and foxy enough to reveal my winter legs.

 

Harrissa tomatoes with Asparagus and Haloumi -

Serves 2 would be skinny ladies for a glorious sunny lunch.

 

I bunch of jolly spring asparagus

2 tomatoes

1 block of haloumi

A wedge or two of lemon

A teaspoon of harrissa paste

A glug or two of olive oil

1.        In a small bowl combine the harrisa, juice of ¼ lemon and a tsp of olive oil, whisk about then tumble through the chopped tomatoes.

2.       Snap off any woody bits from the base of the asparagus and pop the remaining stalks into a steamer and give them the sauna treatment for 4-6 min. They should remain firmish and definitely not droop.

3.       Whilst the asparagus is cooking fry the haloumi in a frying pan under a thin film of olive oil. Aim to have it beautifully brown and crunchy on both sides.

4.       Divide a slender bundle of asparagus, a hearty blob of tomato and pitched rooves of haloumi on each plate.

Tickled pink

Whilst recipes are all fine and dandy, a large part of this blog is meant to illustrate the progressive growth and development in my meagre photographic skill.

So let this be the official starting point where I free myself from the trainer wheels of the AUTO function of my new fancy camera.  Hold on to your hat's folks I am experimenting with aperture. There is a whole new world of artsy fartsy focusing now at my beck and call.

Flouncy flamingos somehow seem the perfect backdrop to the lurid pink vibrancy of the salad. Actually they were the accidental heroes of this sunny Sunday photo shoot, but some how they capture the slight hysteria beetroot always brings to the kitchen.

Stained fingers and astringent pickling juices are not my cup of tea. So this is the route I tend to take to weave the beautiful earthy veg into the mix. I prefer not to peel the beetroot, a good soak and scrub does the job and then the raw beetroot is grated along with a carrot or two to form the base of this addictive and refreshing spring salad.

 

Beetroot salad

1 large beetroot

2 carrots

1 orange cut into dainty segments

A handful of green herbage (optional)

 

For the dressing

2 Tbs good quality white wine vinegar

100ml extra virgin olive oil

1 Tbs Dijon mustard

Sea salt and freshly ground pepper.

1.       Give the beetroot a good soak, and peel the carrots, grate coarsely and combine all of the grated goodness.

2.       Make the dressing by popping all ingredients in a jar and shaking like mad.

3.       Pour the dressing over the carrot and beetroot then artistically slot in the orange segments and sprinkle about the green herbs.

Cooking Joyfully and Beautifully

 

One of my all time favourite gadgets would have to be my mandolin slicer. Whist the actual mechanics of the device cannot be faulted it is the kooky packaging that thrills me most.

Long lost sisters perhaps?

It promises that puffed sleeves and a wealth of shaved vegetable matter could be your ticket to kitchen harmony. Look closer and you will see turnips; cabbage, radish and onions also seem to be part of the equation. Mercifully there is a word of caution to: thrust slowly with great care of your fingertips.

It may be a lethal weapon but it has broad appeal, boldly declaring it’s self to be ideal for everyone from professional cooks to housewives. Phew, glad I qualify. 

It’s a big call that food cut from the samurai blade will be both beautiful AND joyful, but being a sloppy old harridan most of the time I am prepared to give anything a go.

 I suppose you could always try this salad with a plain old knife. That being the case, chop along with one eye closed to up the zen quotient and keep the thrill of chopping off your fingers a greater possibility than normal.  

Crunchy apple salad

3 fat juicy apples apples

½ bulb of fennel

2 radishes

A handful of chopped parsley

A handful of pistachios

 Dressing

Juice and zest of one lemon

2 Tablespoons of olive oil

A decent pinch of salt, pepper, castor sugar and dill.

 

1.       Very finely slice apple radish and fennel,

2.       Combine salad dressing ingredients in a screw top jar and shake vigorously to combine.

3.       Pour dressing over sliced vegetables

4.       Moosh everything together and artistically sprinkle with parsley and nuts.

Best made close to serving.

Bursting with goodness

 

One can feel virtuous just looking at this salad. Perhaps it’s the birdseed esq quinoa, or the vivid green silver beet, but it is hard to deny that fork full’s of this salad could only be good for you.

If quinoa isn’t your thing, you could just as easily substitute weensy green lentils, or cooked pearl barley, but I why wouldn’t you hop onboard the Bolivian super food bandwagon?  It’s super easy to cook and so danm healthy.

Much like rice, cooking quinoa involves a gentle steamy simmer with precisely the right amount of liquid to plump up each individual grain to a tender state.  Generally the ratio is 1.5 units of liquid to 1 unit quinoa and I can attest that too much liquid results in a wet mass that is difficult to resurrect. 

It adds a crunchy charm to any main meal and is surprisingly filling. With the added delight of nuts, sweet pops of currents and a zingy dressing, this salad is a keeper!

 

Quinoa and silver beet salad.

3/4 cup quinoa, (I used red for dramatic effect)
1 cup water
Juice and zest of one lemon

2 Tbs olive oil
1 teaspoon sumac
½ teaspoon salt and pepper
1 small bunch of silver beet leaves

A handful of: slivered almonds, currents, and feta cheese.

Make the quinoa by bringing water to the boil, add the quinoa then cover and simmer for 10 mins until tender and plump, leave to cool whilst you prep the colourful bits!

Make the dressing by combining the lemon juice, oil, sumac, salt and pepper.

Toss the dressing, silverbeet , nuts, currents and cheese through the cool quinoa to make a lovely speckled salad.

5 things you didnt know about Cauliflower

1. If you are being fancy you can refer to its botanical name - Brassica oleracea.  From the much maligned Brassica family which also includes its broccoli, brussel sprouts, cabbage and kale.

2. The humble cauliflower is yet another veggie added to the list of treasures introduced to Europeans courtesy of the Spanish moors, via Arab traders. It has donned the tables of ancient Rome, Louis XIV and my childhood lamb roasts.

3. The ponky smell as it cooks can be attributed to the high levels of mustard oils. It’s that old double edge sword of flavour V’s sulphides.

4.The tightly clumped little trees that make up the head of the cauliflower are known as the “curd”. Presumably named for their milky whiteness and organic shape. The supportive green leaves around the outside are referred to as the collar.

5. I think this is quite possibly the first time I have disagreed with the marvellous Nigel Slater –

Passé it may be, but there are few more suitable ends for a cauliflower to find itself boiled, drained and coated in a properly made cheese sauce. Resist the temptation to undercook. The raison d’être of a cauli is to end it’s days as a soft and gentle supper to soothe the frazzled and overworked.

- Nigel Slater, Appetite (2000)

No Nigel if I am tired and cranky I could think of nothing worse that phaffing about with a full on blanket of white sauce - even if you say so.

 For a quick yummy side dish this is the route I often take, its super quick and showcases the best aspects of soft vegetables offset by salty crunch.

 Quick Cauliflower – sans cheese

A nub of butter
3 slices of bread – crusts removed and cut into 1 cm squares
2 cloves garlic (crushed)
A handful of green herbs
Perhaps some lemon zest
Slivered almonds or something nutty (would be gorgeous with hazelnuts)

 1. Boil or steam the Cauliflower for about 8 minutes – drain very well

2. Melt the butter  in a large frypan, add the garlic then in about 30 seconde pop in the bread, nuts, herbs and zest (if using) and toss about until golden and crisp.

3. Scatter the hot pan fried goodness over the cooked cauliflower and enjoy.

Salad days

A little bowl of something crunchy and delicious is my little treat. Actually the mere act of being home and tinkering about with nice lunches is probably a bigger luxury in itself. I won't bang on about why I have ditched bread from my daily routine- what I will do, is show you the greatest hits of lunches past.

 

None of them took more than 5 mins to whip up, and none of them used anything clever - they are just a delicious mish mash of tastes and textures and in the realm of a thousand times nicer than a boring old sandwich.

 

 

A little lunchtime trip to Asia - shaved cabbage, leftover chicken, a handful of peanuts and plenty of herbs and lime.

Yes I have hopped on board the quinoa train. A Lebanese fatoush of sorts, with a nice added bonus of leftover roast lamb bits!

 

 Ohhhhh! a weensy taste of summer. 2 fat peach halves with goats cheese, grilled until brown and artfully plonked on some peppy rocket. The joys of seasonal fare!!

And its lunchtime in Mykanos with this little number. Haloumi cheese how I adore you and your squeaky, salty, oozy ways.

 

 What's on your radar for lunch today?

 

 

What grows together goes together

Its easy to fall into some happy sort of lemon, garlic, and rosemary scented pthutz when it comes to roasting a chook. Familiarity breeds contentment after all. But when my late summer garden was happily going crazy it occurred to me that today might be the day to shake things up.

Perhaps it was the gin and tonic(s), perhaps it was the cool breeze blowing after the long hot days but let it go on official record that lime, basil and fennel is a damn fine addition to the chicken roasting world.

So here is the low down.

Take a whopping great bunch of basil, the zest of one lime, a couple of garlic cloves, about a teaspoon of fennel, cracked black pepper and sea salt and a lump of butter. Chop and moosh them all together to form a nice speckled herb butter then insert dollops into the gap between the skin and flesh of the bird. Pop the remaining lime in the cavity along with a garlic clove or two, then drizzle with olive oil and season liberally.

Cook it along side some nice smooth pebbly potatoes for about an hour and 10 mins. My preference is for using charcoal- but that's not my domain, man of the house is the expert there. Although I can report outstanding success' using a 200c oven.

Gracefully carve into appealing chunks and serve alongside a perky green salad and perhaps another gin and tonic. Happy days!