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.

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.

The case of the giant glad wrap rolls...

It is quite impossible not to be inspired by the temporary cathedral Christchurch has whipped up. Having lived here for a couple of months, I am somewhat qualified to say, that Cantabrians can be on the conservative side. Which is why something so whacky and irreverent as a paper house of worship pleases me to no end.

 

What I would give to have been a fly on the wall when the idea was first waivered. I am sure the bit where the clever architect explained that the walls would be made of giant glad wrap tubes would have been a highlight. You also simply have to adore the logic that in the event of more “rumbles” it would be one of the safest places to be. Add in the feel good factors of recycling, urban regeneration and you can see how this remarkable project gained momentum.

The contrast between the highly symbolic Neo Gothic ruins in the CBD and the cheeky optimistic pop up solution are stark. Perhaps it is the permission to be abit plucky and think outside the square that is the real blessing of a natural disaster.

I say Bravo to the Cardboard Cathedral and have noshed up a little something in it’s honour; I think you can see where I am heading with this one...

 

I have avoided the usual spinach and ricotta route, as this is meant to be a celebration of creative souls. Granted this isn’t hugely dissimilar, but it does have more playful flavours and textures going on. My kids happily chow into this, so variations are on regular rotation at our house.

Forgive my vague quantities, this is a quickly assembled up family dinner that doesn’t demand precision.

 Leek and Hazelnut cannelloni

First make the filling:

1 leek, afew garlic cloves, a nub of butter, thyme, oregano, loads of parsley, black pepper, salt, a handful of chopped hazelnuts, a handful of grated parmesan, a tub of ricotta.

In a large frypan slowly cook the leek and garlic in the butter until soft and tasty, cool slightly. Add in the herbs, nuts and parmesan mix well, and then stir through ricotta.

Into the constriction zone.

1 large jar of passata, 1 pack of fresh lasagne sheets, a pot of white sauce if you are feeling fancy and lashings of grated cheese.

Preheat oven to 180

Pour half the tomato passata into the base of a large baking dish. Add in ¼ or so of water and swish it about to make it ultra juicy.

Cut the lasagne sheets into same size rectangles, then working in a methodical fashion, dollop mixture along one side, then roll up to form a cheese filled log. Pop the log on the tomatoey base and get cracking with the rest of the batch.

Loosen the remaining half jar of tomato with ¼ cup more water then pour over the filled pasta tubes. If you are going down the path of a creamy white blanket – pour the sauce directly on to the tomato top. Either way dress the top of your dish with plenty of grated cheese.

Let it cook away and do its thing in the oven for 40- 45 mins or until pasta is beautifully soft and the top is irritably golden.

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.

Get Set For The Weekend



Porky goodness



Come Friday night all I want is a glass of wine and a little peace and quiet. “Easier said than done,” the mothers of the world cry in unison. Well surely a cheeky crisp white sav Blanc is easy enough to rustle up, and with a just a moments forethought the dinner can magically happen too.

Alarmingly the secret to being cool on a Friday night involves actually thinking about it on a Wednesday.  Yes that’s right it takes me two days preparation to be a fun mummy.

This is the route I took last weekend, and it worked spectacularly well.

Basically as I was doing some sort of mid week frenzied mad dash around the market I spied pork roasts for a good price. One ended up in the trolley, on arriving home it didn’t even make it to the fridge – I just popped it straight in the pan and left it to do its thing, whilst I bellowed and nagged my way through the joys of homework and lunchboxes.

Not that I am a booze hound or anything, but I did use alcoholic ginger beer as my braising liquid.   It perfectly set the tone for the laid back mood I was dreaming of and created a sweet succulence that was pretty damn fine. You could just as easily substitute cider, but for preference I would stick with something that has the moody dry sweetness that only a 375ml brown bottle can.

Pork in Ginger Beer

1 pork shoulder roast (mine was 1.8 kg)

1 leek

A couple of cloves of garlic

¾ bottle of “Ranga” alcoholic ginger beer (about 300ml)

1 bay leaf

2 whole cloves

a pinch of sage and thyme

1.       Preheat oven to 160c

2.      In a large cast iron skillet sear the pork to give a nice bit of colour to the two flat sides, add in the leek, garlic and herbs and sizzle till fragrant. Pour in ginger beer and season well with a good sprinkling of salt and pepper.

 

 

 

3.       Cover the dish with a tight fitting lid then cook for 3 hours or until the pork starts to fall apart when gently poked.

4.       Leave to rest and flavours to develop in the fridge for up to 3 days. When ready to serve, heat on a stove top, then take the pork out to trim off fatty bits and shred the pork into large chunks using a fork. Place the pork back in the cooking liquid and serve with crusty bread and leafy green – and a big glass of THANK GOD ITS FRIDAY WINE!!!



 

Surprise Package

 

It was only once my family had happily devoured this delicious dinner that I confessed to it containing parsnip! I am not sure why this handsome winter vegetable is the case of such prejudices?

Perhaps it’s just a case of a limed appeal in an unadorned state. Granted a pasty pale parsnip does not have the crunchy vibrancy of a carrot or the comforting starchy charm of potatoes, but it does have a unique nutty sweetness that endears it to rich wholesome fare.

 At their peak in the depths of winter, parsnips mature as their starches convert to sugar giving it the characteristic butter toffee like flavour. With the savoury addition of fennel, leek, garlic, rich pork mince and a golden blanket of pastry I felt quite confident that I was showcasing parsnip potential.

PORK AND PARSNIP PASTIE
A glug or two of olive oil
700 g pork mince
1 leek
2 cloves of garlic crushed
1 parsnip
1 large potato
1 big fat granny smith apple
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
½ teaspoon sage
½ teaspoon of cracked black pepper
A good pinch of salt
1 cup chicken stock
1 block of puff pastry
One egg (to be used as a pastry wash)

1. Fry the mince in batches to give lovely brown nubbly effect, whilst that’s all happening get on with peeling and chopping the vegies into small chunks. Set to one side prepped veg and mince.

2. In a drop of olive oil, soften the sliced leek and garlic, add in the chopped veg and let them begin to sizzle. Add fennel, sage and salt and pepper, and then return the browned mince to the pan. Pour in the chicken stock and allow it to boil briskly, reduce to a simmer and let it bubble away until the liquid is reduced by 75% and the vegetables are cooked – about 10 mins.

3. Allow the meat mixture to cool slightly while you roll the pastry and preheat the oven to 190c (fan forced)

4. On a well floured surface roll the pastry into a large rectangle; aim to make the pastry the same thickness as a gold coin.

5. With a light touch lift the pastry onto a baking paper lined tray, dab the perimeter generously with egg wash then place the cooled meat mixture along the long edge of the pastry.

6. Fold the remaining pastry over the mince, then squeeze and tuck the edges together to seal. Lightly brush with remaining egg wash and then make feint slits along the top to allow steam to escape as it cooks. Sprinkle with extra fennel and black pepper.

7. Cook for 30 mins or until gloriously puffed and irresistibly golden.

8. Serve it up with a knowing smile and only confess to it containing parsnip once the meal is in full swing!

 

With thanks to my helper

 

 

Who could resist?

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!

Something fishy

What do you do when a small girl turns her nose up at the idea of glorious prime salmon?? You pop it in a taco and shout Ole'!  With sufficent banging on about the joys of the Mexican hat dance children will eat anything.

Step one - sear the salmon

Step 2 -Coddle together some colourful bits

Step 3 - Note that the salmon is gradually dissapearing

Step 4 - Mission accomplished