Tag Archives: food

seven

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I was linked up by the wonderful blog Bagni di Lucca for a look at seven of my older posts. I don’t usually do award things (as I’m a bit of a poop), but this wasn’t anyway and I really was interested in what had worked, what hadn’t, and just a general going through the archives as did Bagni di Lucca and other bloggers before her.

So I looked, and this is what I came up with…

1. Most Beautiful post.

I still think of the two little old ladies that I wrote of in this post from time to time, wondering how they are… A little Sunshine in your Sunflower Bread.

Sunflower Bread

2. Most popular post.

This was a tricky one to decide on as I wasn’t sure how to define it. Tasmania was certainly popular though. It seems a lot of people have similar dreams of Tasmanian holidays or possibly a lifestyle change. Keeps me inspired just reading what others had to say…Tasmanian wanderings.

3. Most controversial post.

It’s been a while since I wrote something a little controversial, so it was good to re-read this one. I loved the fact that so many people were willing to comment on how they felt on the topic… Meat…could you? would you? 

4. Most helpful post.

A lot of people come looking for Love Cake, (with a name like that, it’s rather tempting) so I guess that’s helpful. Along with tips on using Bicarbonate Soda, which is also helpful…maybe just not used together…. Sri Lankan Love Cake

Sri Lankan Love Cake

5. Most surprisingly successful post.

Actually this recent one on eating through kids books, thrilled me that so many people felt in a similar way. I loved reading every single comment, as this was a topic really close to my heart and I could have waffled on for quite a while…. Eating through kids books.

Kingcup Cottage

6. Most underrated post.

This one was back in the early days of blogging…Why cafes and kids simply don’t mix.

7. The post I am most proud of.

I’m still happy with this one. It was a post I did when the blog was still fairly new once again. I really enjoyed researching it though, as this is my family through the dinner plate ages… Evolution of Frugal Food

For the next part I thought I would mix it up a little, and instead choose seven posts from seven different blogs that I have really enjoyed over the past seven weeks. Go on, take a peek, I think you’ll love them too.

Che and Fidel– I’m a sucker for a newborn, especially a perfect little one like this…sigh.

Just the here and now– this gal makes me think, especially if you have a look at her 21st July post.

Myrtle and Eunice– pom pom bombing? This inspiring lady makes me want to find my nearest tree and pretty it up a little.

Richard Tulloch’s life on the road– I had no idea that I wanted to go to Iceland, now I know I do. Stunning.

Rufus’ Food and Spirits Guide– Peach margarita’s surely would have to be definitive summer…which is kind of nice as it’s winter here.

She of 108 Names– food markets Chiang Mai style. We still reminisce about the street side roti with condensed milk wrapped in newspaper… So good.

Spice and More– the imagery of riding a bicycle through Denmark and eating strawberries from the front basket pedalling along, was wonderful.

* Oodles more wonderful posts over the past seven weeks from lots of other bloggers around… It was rather hard to whittle it down to just seven.

It’s all feeling a little Nordic

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Something had been reignited again. It started with a holiday and then snowballed from there.

I’ve been reading.

Congratulations, I hear you mutter. But really it is a big thing. Books were getting piled up in ambitious piles and not moving. The newspaper was taunting me.

Then it all changed. Three books in three weeks and the ball was rolling, really quite fast. They were fat books too. The most I had been reading before that, was the back of the peanut butter jar… Even that was skim reading.

So what got me going again?

Stieg Larsson. The Millenium triology.

Goodbye Monkeys, goodbye Mr Chocolate, goodbye tv, *ahem* goodbye cityhippyfarmgirl blog… hello Sweden and your criminal mysteries.

Thoroughly enjoyed the books, all three of them.

Now with that being said, I have been immersed in all things Scandinavian and my taste buds are calling for food that would be fitting. Rye bread was obviously a must, along with anything else I could make happen.

I had also kept in the back of my mind this beautiful lady’s crisp bread recipe from the beginning of the year. It was time to give that one a go, and I’m so glad I did. They make the perfect base for an open sandwich, and I think they will definitely become a staple around here.

 

Knekkebrod

200g spelt flour

200g whole oats

100g pepita

100g sunflower seeds

100g LSA (linseed, sunflower and almond meal)

25g sesame

350mls water

These are the ingredients I used as it was what I had on hand. I can see how they would be incredibly versatile though, and using any ingredients that you really like. I loved them, and am definitely going to make them regularly now. See here for Turid’s original recipe though.

The Split Pea Soup I suspect is not just restricted to Swedish eating, however Jamie Oliver has a recipe for it in his Swedish section in this great book, and while I adapted it to what I had on hand and my taste buds, the one thing that I think is genius was to put mustard on top. Now, I love my mustard but I would never have thought to add it to a Split Pea Soup, so thanks Jamie.

Split Pea Soup

adapted from Jamie Oliver’s “Jamie does…”

A good couple of slurps of olive oil

add a couple of diced sticks of celery, and an onion

cook it down a little

add 500g of washed split peas

and about 1.5 litres of stock (I use vegetable stock)

1 tsp oregano

and simmer it for about 45 minutes or until soft.

Serve with a dollop of mustard and knekkebrod.

slowing it down to eat some rye bread

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Sourdough is not a quick process. It’s slow, likes to amble. Take its time. Focus it’s energy on the job on hand and then gradually release all of that sourdoughy goodness. Especially slow in winter. I don’t mind though. I’m in no hurry. The bread and I have no place special to be, and if I did…well the bread can wait. Sourdough is like that. Occasionally moody and a little flighty, but regularly reliable, and keen to just make peace with what ever is happening. I like that.

I had started with a 100% rye from Dan Lepard’s The Handmade Loaf. I took my time, didn’t hurry it along. It turned out ok, but I wasn’t thrilled. Mr Chocolate had mistakenly washed up my 2 tablespoons of crucial gelatinized mix to go on top of the loaf, and it all looked a little too floury. I had been nervous about putting the sticky mass dough in my banetton, so had floured a teatowel to line it instead. The loaf just came out looking like a floured teatowel though. Never mind. I’ll try a again.

Trial one

Second time around and I thought I would tweak the flavours a little. I wanted a more in-depth flavour, and also banished Mr Chocolate from my gelatinized mix at the crucial time. Flavour was better, and I didn’t bother with a banetton, just freeformed a rough round shape and pegged the sides of the baking paper to cradle and support it a little. It did rise, the top looked a little glossy, and several cracks developed while rising…. but it wasn’t quite there yet. What was missing?

Trial Two

Third time around, and the weather was cold. It certainly was going to take longer than the 5 hours recommended to let it rise. Once baked, I left it for 48 hours wrapped in baking paper before I cut into it. This really did seem to help in the development of the flavour, but….

Trial three- it’s getting there. The flavour was certainly there, but not quite there yet…

Fourth go. It tastes good.

I’m done.

Trialing and tweaking I’ve enjoyed doing, but I still find it a bit of a pain to make on account of it being so sticky. The taste is there though. It was really cold the day I made this one and it certainly didn’t double in size. It was a loooong cool prove, probably 12 hours on the bench all up plus 12 hours in the fridge. I’m still sticking with the hand shaping and laying on bakers paper rather than a banetton, I didn’t bother checking the temperature of the boiling water asper Dan Lepard’s instructions, (things aren’t that slow round here.) Just whisked when it’s boiled. I also think wrapping it afterwards is very crucial. The taste is a light sour, really tight crumb and I think the linseed and dark malt flour I added give a bit more depth, to which I like.

It’s filling, it’s good for you, The Monkeys won’t have a bar of it, and that suits me just fine. I can eat my way through it… slowly.

                                                                          

My changed ingredient list is as follows, for the method and some other invaluable notes on Dan Lepard’s more original recipe- jump over to Zeb Bakes. The lovely Joanna made this a little while back and it was really interesting to see what she thought of the same recipe.

100% Sour Rye

adapted from The Handmade Loaf
300g rye starter
75mls cold water
450g gelatinized rye mix
400g rye flour
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp cardamom
1 tsp dark malt flour
50g (1/2 cup) linseed meal, or LSA
gelatinized rye mix- 90g rye flour and 360 mls water
**********
The night before make up the gelatinized rye mix, using just boiled water and whisking flour in immediately. Leave two tablespoons aside for the top of the loaf. Whisk cold water into thr rye starter and then also whisk in the gelatinized mix. Then add remaining ingredients.
On to an oiled surface, try and squish it into the shape you want. Smoothing it round and leave it for 5 (ambitious for me)- 12 hours on a baking paper cradle or banetton. Until it’s risen a bit anyway.
Spread the remaining gelatinized mix on, spray with water and pop in the oven at 210C for about 50 minutes.
******
This post submitted to yeastspotting.

soup with olive oil parmesan crackers- Frugal Friday

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It’s been awhile since I did a Frugal Friday post. Too long.

It’s winter here, and this week has been wet, rainy, soggy and grey. Perfect weather for soup.

My dad had given me a pumpkin from his garden, and the leeks were looking plump and juicey. Soup it was.

Leek and Pumpkin Soup

A good couple of slurps of olive oil in a large pot

finely chopped leek popped in

cooked until it wilts a little

then drop in your pumpkin pieces

add some water/stock and stick the lid on until soft

whiz it up with a hand mixer

Super basic soup that can be eaten as is or added to. I like adding natural yogurt and tomato chutney on top. Or some thai curry paste if you want a kick in the pants. The best soup is made with great vegetables. If the main ingredient is a tasteless old pumpkin…well the soup is going to taste, tasteless.

Olive Oil Parmesan Crackers

1 1/2 cups (225g) plain flour

1/2 cup (25g) unprocessed bran

1/4 cup (60mls) hot water

3/4 tsp salt

60mls water

80mls olive oil

grated parmesan

black pepper

Add hot water to bran, give it a minute or so to soak in and then in a mixer with a dough hook add all the ingredients and mix until comes together. Parmesan and black pepper put in amounts to your taste (or any other flavours). Knead the mixture for about 10 minutes until you have a stiff dough and then leave covered for about 45 minutes. Roll out to a couple of mm’s and cut what ever shapes you want. Place on a tray and grate extra parmesan over the top. Bake at 180C until light golden and crispy through. Shake them around a bit when you get them out of the oven to pick up any extra parmesan while they are still hot.

eating through kids books

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Kingcup Cottage was the first book I ever had. I still love it, and now get to read it to my boys. My mum lovingly kept a lot of our childhood books, so I get to relive all the pages again though reading with The Monkeys.

And read we do. We always read a lot to, although their book case is getting mighty squishy.

It hadn’t occurred to me until recently just how much food has always played a part in my life. Even going back to my childhood books, it’s the food pages that held my attention. The end party picture of Kingcup Cottage with the array of goodies spread out, and all the woodland animals tucking in. It’s the sort of picture that I would have spent a long time absorbing every detail of it all and scrutinizing each corner of the page.

I’ve been subconsciously drawn to, so many pages in favourite early children’s books. It’s actually quite funny to look back as an adult and realise how I have come to these attractions or thoughts I guess, and how it has effected my way of thinking.

Midnight feasts were always very idyllic sounding thanks to Enid Blyton. As I got a little older, those idyllic notions were still implanted in my head from younger years of reading. It was the thing to do on early teen sleep over nights. Somehow though, it never felt the same as reading those books. Stories of school kids getting up to high jinks and eating a selection of goodies in the dark of the night. Goodies, that I would never normally eat but always sounded delicious reading through Enid Blyton’s pages. When it came to my midnight feasts though, we either annoyingly slept through, or ate a handful of smarties and a swig of soft drink as we paused ‘The Breakfast Club” or “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” and that was that. No glass bottles of ginger beer and tongue sandwiches…(although I’m not really sure I would have gone for the sangas anyway.)

It wasn’t the same.

Back to early childhood books and ‘Come over to my House’- Theo LeSeig (pen name of Theodore Geisel aka Dr Seuss), was also another early favourite. It’s worn, frayed on the spine and still has oodles of love to give anyone that is drawn in by its pages. Each of those pages take the reader to a different country. I know that this book contributed to me wanting to know more about different cultures and countries from its colourful pictures. I aspired to eating spaghetti in Venice with the watery canals beneath my balcony and long gondolas silently polling by because of this page.  I wanted to see the Northern Lights glow over a snowy landscape, and lie on a hammock on a tropical island feeling the balmy breeze between my toes. I’m still waiting to see the Northern Lights, but I have eaten spaghetti in Venice, and have felt that balmy breeze.

I wonder what impact The Monkey’s books will have on them and whether they will be drawn to the foodie pages or something else completely?

What ever those books do, I hope they help my boys to dream…

Did loved childhood books have a strong impact on you?


caramel hazelnut chocolate tarts

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I’m not allowed to make these very often, as restaint happily sits outside the front door and away from ear shot. Just the right size to pop into your mouth in one sugary sweep. Gone like a flash, as the hand reaches for another… ahem, and another.

See. Troublesome little tarts they are. Trouble with a hazelnutty bottom, a sticky caramel middle and just enough chocolate drizzled on for some to get stuck on your top lip.

You’ve been warned.

Caramel Hazelnut Chocolate Tarts

Pastry

1/3 cup toasted hazelnuts

1 cup plain flour (150g)

100g chilled cubed butter

All into a food processor until resembles bread crumbs. Divide mixture and press into greased mini muffin tray (I also cut strips of baking paper, lining one hole with a strip- easy to pop them out then.) Bake at  180C until a light golden. Press mixture down with a teaspoon to compress it while it’s still hot.

Caramel

In a pot, add one can of condensed milk (395g), 30g butter and 2 tablespoons of golden syrup over a low heat. Stirring until butter melts, then bring it up to a simmer, and keep stirring until mixture thickens and darkens a little. Divide the caramel over the pastry tarts, cool for 5 minutes and then over to a wire rack.

Chocolate

Melt the chocolate really slowly and then drizzle it over the tarts. If you melt it slowly the chocolate should stay ‘in temper’, and will avoid any streakiness, (if you don’t mind a bit of streaking now and then, just go for it.)

art and food…yes please

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entrance

I don’t think I had any expectations of MONA (Museum of Old and New Art- Hobart). I had heard it was good. Had also been told of a couple of particular pieces on display, but other than that I didn’t really know what to expect, besides knowing that I did want to go there.

Driving in, vineyards line the drive way up. Guinea fowl, chooks and ducks roam the carpark. I think anywhere that has that as a welcome, along with striking architecture and a tennis court in front of the subtle entrance, immediately has my attention and I wanted in.

Little Monkey had timed a nap in his pram perfectly and the iphone used for orientating yourself with the artworks suited the tech savvy Monkey Boy. The gadget distracted him enough away from any adults only pieces and it was quicker to ask him to find the information I needed, than from Mr Chocolate.

This place is awesome. No other word for it. If you go to Hobart, make sure you head over for a couple  of hours. It ooozes with funk, intrigue, thought and a bucket load of awesomeness….and it’s free. I loved our afternoon here.

falling water drops forming words

30 people singing Madonna songs in unison...brilliant!

 Now food in Tasmania is a big factor. If you like being out doors, being active and like your tucker a whole lot- it really is heaven. This time around we weren’t dining out in fancy places that had two types of wine glasses set up. Not all. If they had kid sized milkshakes excellent. Drawing paper and colourful pens…even better. Fast and tasty, yes please.

A few of the stand outs for me were, (and you don’t have to have kiddo’s to enjoy them).


The Red Velvet Lounge, Cygnet. This place is really appealing as soon as you walk in. My eyes moving straight to the stacked (still warm) sourdoughs and brimming cake counter, (why fight it?) Steve the owner also blogs from The view from my Porch. This is where I got to have lunch with the lovely Kate from Vegetable Vagabond.

Global Kitchen, Moonah. Three cooks from India, South Korea and Ethiopia, all offering different dishes. A tasting plate that left me gasping for air and The Monkeys skipping out with a chocolate chip biscuit gripped in their little monkey hands.

Machine Laundry Cafe, Hobart. This place was recommended to us 7 years ago. We dutifully seek it out and the Fat Boy Roti was remembered for ever more by Mr Chocolate. Back again, and it was a given that we would see if it was all still there. It was, and definitely worth the wait to get in. Part laundry, part cafe. It’s got retro seating, a line up of people outside and a menu that doesn’t disappoint. It was certainly worth the seven year wait to come back.

 
roti filled with scrambled eggs

bacon and parmesan pancakes

he got really slow at the end of that one...

So, with my muddy shoes stacked up, my scarf draped over the back of the chair. I lean back contentedly, give my belly a happy pat and  say very enthusiastically…that, was a lovely holiday.

See you again Tasmania.


* Apologies to any subscribers who got the delightfully titled 4252 post- sometimes my brain pauses…pressing publish without a title was one of those moments. 


Dancing Lemon Vanilla Stars

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There he was in front of me, eyes intensely locked to mine.

His body convulsed like he was touching an electric fence down in the back paddock. Convulsing in time with the deep thumping bass. The twisting colourful lights bounced off his eyes. When he widened them it gave him a slightly manic look. I awkwardly looked away, thinking he must have been doing this for quite some time for everyone dancing here, but no. He only had eyes for me. He had followed my shift of focus and was again in my line of sight, seemingly getting closer.

His body convulsing from one side to another, his eyes locked again, and he grinned from ear to ear this time. Using his hands in some odd dance like feature that made me think of a baby dinosaur. He was trying to impress me that was for sure. I stifled a giggle. I didn’t want to offend him, but it really was hard not to laugh at his intensity of moves.

The thumping music, darkened corners, squeals of happiness, flashing colourful lights and this odd little red head who was trying his very best to impress me with his dance moves. Except this wasn’t a night club, those club days were but a foggy memory, and that red head was pint sized, lucky to be 3 foot tall. I was at Monkey Boy’s school disco, and currently surrounded by about 200 squealing five, six, and seven year olds and their siblings.

I had Little Monkey perched on my hip clinging to me as only a little monkey could. Too dark and too noisy for him.

Monkey Boy looked on with big wide eyes. Uninterested, when a pretty little class mate tried to gently take him by the hand and coerce him to dance in the centre with her. He clung on to his mama’s leg, (not sure how long that will last.) She looked hurt on the second attempt to try and convince him to dance with her. Flicking her long hair, as she moved off into the heaving dance floor.

Some boys were break dancing. Girls were jumping and giggling in circles. One girl did her very best robot to two unimpressed older boys, and all the shy kids stood by and watched from the side shadows.

Swap the venue, add another metre in height to everyone and not really much had changed since back in my nightclub days. Except here, no stink of spilt beer and vodka mixers.

(I did however, suspect a little too much diluted apple juice… and clearly that little convulsing pint-sized red head may have had a drop too much.)

 lemon vanilla stars

200g softened butter

150g sugar

2 tsp vanilla

1 1/2 tsp lemon rind

225g (1 3/4 cup) plain flour

Cream butter and sugar, add vanilla and lemon. Then mix through the flour. Chill in fridge for a little while wrapped in plastic (if weather is warm) and then roll out (I find rolling between two sheets of baking paper easiest, as it’s a sticky dough), cut out stars and bake at 170C for 20 minutes.

This dough also freezes easily into a log, then just cut off rounds to bake as you need them.

the weight of the steak

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When I was researching what piggy options a city girl had, I discovered Feather and Bone, in Rozelle. A supplier of sustainably raised meat. I started getting their weekly emails filled with interesting meaty information and what’s on offer at the moment. From there, I went to one of their open days and got to see for myself at how it was all done, coming home with a weighty little number that had cook me up just right, written all over it.

I’ve written before about knowing where your meat is from and asking whether you would be prepared to do the killing yourself. Reading back on that post I realised that even in the last not quite 6 months our meat buying habits have changed since then. I’m fine with that, I like evolving. I now very rarely buy any meat from a super market or butcher. Instead, the meat intake has dropped even less, and the majority of it is now coming from farmers markets. If those markets are few and far between because I can’t get there or the meat isn’t available, then so is the meat eating. Why? Because I really want to know where it’s from. I want to know more of how it was raised before slaughter, who reared it and if possible, what their farming philosophies are like. I simply can’t get this if I’m buying from the supermarket.

Meat has been the topic of choice in this fair country of ours for the last few weeks. Ever since the ABC’s Four Corners program was shown about the live cattle export business to Indonesia, people have had things to say. A lot of things to say. The footage was graphic, confronting and got people into action to get things changed.

It might have changed Indonesia’s meat eating habits for a bit as the supply from Australia has almost stopped, but would it be enough for people to question their own meat eating habits here within Australia? Could that daily/weekly slab of meat become less? Could it become just a special occasion meal?

Back to the weighty number in my possession, and I had a little treat in store for Mr Chocolate. Special occasion, yes it was. After visiting the warehouse of Feather and Bone, I came home with a steak. Not just any steak but a Chianina steak, aged for 6 weeks, rib eye cut, weighing 673g and costing $45. There was, a small intake of breath, (you can’t fight history right) at the cost of it, but overall I was more than happy to hand over the cash for the hefty piece of meat. I knew where the beef was coming from, I knew how long and where it was aged and butchered, (Feather and Bone.) I also knew that this steak was going home to my loved one as part of a twice a year meal of steak, (the last one being at Aria.) It was also going to be enjoyed by him, (I hoped.)

Now on getting that steak home, I started to sweat a little. Not from the weight of the thing, but the pressure to cook it the right way. (To clarify, I don’t eat steak, which means I don’t cook steak.) This however, was a treat. It had to be cooked just right. I had quizzed Grant, (at Feather and Bone) when I purchased it and then also made a frantic phone call to my friend who proudly has Meat on her bookshelf. Plan put into action and I’m off.

Plates at the ready, the steak was brought back to room temperature, salted, seared, into the oven, and then rested for the same amount of time it had cooked for. The pressure was high, the weight of the steak was sitting firmly on my shoulders, and geez, it was a hefty one.

No cooked pictures, as that was the last thing I needed was to try and get a ‘good’ picture in the fading light and building anticipation of Mr Chocolate about to cut into his rib eye.

But how did it taste?

Let’s just say… if Mr Chocolate was about to leave the earth tomorrow and he could choose any meal to end it, this steak cooked by me (*nervous giggle*) is now top of the list.

I think that just might be a success.

Isola (producer)

Chianina Beef

6 week aged

Rib eye

673g

one vanilla slice and a small serving of copyright please…

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 The humble vanilla slice is one of those bakery treats that I’ve always found hard to walk past. I’ve written before of my love for all things custard, with the peak of the custard love sitting right in wedged between two lots of pastry.

This recipe had sat for four years in my ‘folder’, awaiting the day when I would finally give it a crack. I know the day I ripped it out of the magazine, as the date is on the bottom. Torn out from The Good Weekend, a magazine insert from the weekend paper The Sydney Morning Herald. Also, it’s a recipe from Matthew Evans. It seems I’ve been unknowingly drawn to his cooking long before I pushed him up on to my gourmet farmer pedestal.

So there the recipe sat. Waiting for the right moment. I had posted about custard biscuits and a reader commented on snot blocks. Snotblocks were otherwise known as the  vanilla slice in certain parts of 70’s Australia. With the mere mention of the snot block, I was drawn back to the torn out folded recipe, wedged between the caramel mudcake and profiterole recipe.

What exactly was holding me back from giving it a go? Right, get cracking girl. So I did. I even followed the recipe to the letter, every little step of it. I didn’t stray, not even a tiny tweak, (well almost). Which was very unlike me.

So did it turn out? Ohhh, yes. Yes it did. It actually exceeded my expectations as the recipe didn’t have an accompanying picture. I just crossed my fingers that it was going to work out, and kept visualising my snot block, I mean vanilla slice.

So I made it, it was delicious, now where’s the recipe?

This was where I came a little undone. I had followed the recipe to the T. No adaptations, no deviations, no tweaking and definitely no hack. There was no evidence of the recipe online, the magazine isn’t even on line, so I couldn’t really give credit where it was due. I didn’t want rip off the magazine I’d been reading for the past 20+ years and I didn’t want to rip off Matthew Evans.

I ended up asking a Good Weekend editor what to do, and some emails were sent back and forth without any conclusion being made. Maybe I was too small of a blog to be bothered with and maybe they just weren’t sure either of what to do? I read David Lebovitz’s post on recipe attribution, then I read it again.

Just when I had decided to let it all go, approval came through. The recipe was given the nod as long as it had all the appropriate acknowledgements.

Vanilla Slice 

from Matthew Evans- Good Weekend December 1st, 2007

2x 25cm square pieces butter puff pastry

80g 2/3 cup cornflour

1 litre milk

40g butter

6 eggs

200g (1 cup) sugar

3 tsp vanilla essence

130g (1 cup) icing sugar

1 tbls extra milk

Oven on to 220C. Pop the pastry on to baking trays and prick all over with a fork. Use something with some weight and it can go on top of the pastry to stop it from rising, just use some baking paper to prevent sticking between it, (I just used a spatula to flatten it half way through cooking). Bake 15 minutes or until golden brown and cooked through.  Cool and trim pastry to fit 22cm square cake tin (or something similar). Line the tin with a strip of baking paper to lift the slice out once it is set. Pop one piece of the pastry in the bottom.

For the custard, add a little of the milk with the cornflour to dissolve. In a pot, heat the remainder of the litre of milk with the butter. While it come to the boil, crack the eggs into the cornflour paste, tip in the sugar and whisk until smoooth. Whisk in the milk, and then return to the heat in a clean pan.

Whisk continuously until the mixture comes to the boil and simmer for 1 minute. Remove from the heat, add the vanilla, then tip the custard into cake tin. Top with the other piece of pastry, turning it over- smooth side up. Press down and allow to cool.

Next either make a barely runny icing with the icing sugar and extra milk or simply dust with icing sugar. Pop in to the fridge until cold. Remove from tin and cut into squares, wiping blade between cuts.

Should make about 16 squares, (unless you do monster sized ones.)

*******

One other little thing I did do differently, was the pastry. Mathew Evans reccommends the Careme butter puff pastry or as second choice Pampas, (likening all others to ear wax). I did get the Careme, but didn’t pay attention to how many grams there were in there, so fell short of the amount of pastry I needed. I baked it as per instructions but then really carefully halved it. Because the pastry was lovely and obliging, it was pretty easy to do, and it was still enough pastry to withhold all the custard.

So what did I learn from all this?

Waiting, and making sure I felt comfortable with the whole re-publishing process definitely paid off. Getting approval to use the recipe on my blog without all the lip biting and frowning that was going on before, felt right.

And I still love vanilla slice.

It’s delicious.

*******

Good Weekend is a weekly magazine insert within the Sydney Morning Herald. 

Matthew Evans is Gourmet Farmer, author of The Real Food Companion and sells via Rare Food.

If you are not sure about posting a recipe, this is a really good place to start.

Vanilla slice sounds much nicer than snot block.

calzone…or little parcels of goodness

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First time I ever had one of these doughy little parcels of goodness, I was sixteen. I was walking on a crowded street with school friends on a Saturday night in southern Italy. It was cold, the middle of winter kind of cold. Cold enough for the wind to whistle up my slightly too short jeans, and leave a chilled to the bone feeling.

My jeans in those days were frequently too short, as I was quite tall. So in winter time, the wind would whistle around my ankles, attaching its cold breathy fingers to me.

Biting into a calzone was the perfect antidote. Two bites in and you would reach the molten lava that is the tomatoey mixture inside. Hot enough for you to start gasping, waving a useless hand in front of your gaping mouth. Hoping to god, that the mouthful of food would cool in your mouth before you had to spit it out and look like an idiot. In those days I would choose burning the roof top of your mouth until all that remained was a flapping bloody mess of skin, over looking like an idiot any day.

These days, the jeans length has dropped. My ankles stay warm, I don’t tend to keep molten hot food in my mouth and the happy taste memory of calzone are still with me.

Calzone to make are dead easy. It’s basically a folded pizza. What ever you like on your pizza, can go in these. I used this olive oil bread dough, (I like making up extra bread dough and keeping some in the freezer for a quick weekend lunch.) Rolled out a rough circle, shoved some cooked tomatoes, salami, mozzarella in and then folded it over. Pinch the sides and place on an oiled or lined tray. Into the oven at 240C, cook until golden and sounds hollow.

Eat…when slightly cooler.

Submitted to the lovely yeast spotting.

 

how to make bread, for the person who thinks they can’t…but really they can

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This is, (I hope) a really basic way to start making your own bread. It’s an adapted version of the Bourke Street Bakery cookbook olive oil dough. I’ve used it a whole bunch of times, and it’s always reliably delicious.

 You will need.

600g flour (4 cups- I use strong bakers flour)

2 tsp dried yeast

400mls tepid water

 3 tbls olive oil

2 tsp salt

In a large mixing bowl add the, 600g flour, 2 tsp yeast and 400mls water. (The slight warmth of the water will kick start things, don’t use hot; you’ll kill the yeast.)

 mix with a spoon until it all comes together. It will look a little dry and unlikely.

Now leave it for 10 minutes.

 The dough looks and feels a little different. It’s been doing its thing for the past 10 minutes.

It will feel softer and more workable.

Now add 3 tbls olive oil, and 2 tsp salt

 Mix it through with the spoon initially, for about a minute and then by hand. You will be able to feel it coming together. Now tip it out on to a bench and knead. (I don’t find with this recipe I need a floured surfaced area, but it may depend on the type of flour you are using. If it’s sticking, lightly flour the surface and your hands.

Work the dough until it comes together as a smooth, stretching mass (or use a mixer with dough hook). You want it to feel elastic.

Use the heel of both of your hands for kneading. Finger tips flick the dough up, and heel of hands push down.

 When the dough is soft and smooth, it’s a happy dough. The kneading will probably take about 10 minutes.

Then pop it back into the mixing bowl, (or a lightly oiled clean one, I just whack it back in the grubby one though) with some plastic wrap (or a shopping bag/wet tea towel) over the top. This stops it from drying out. Let it prove for 30+ minutes.

If the dough is in a warm spot (about 26C) it will just need the 30 minutes, if cooler, it may take longer. If it’s soft, and springs back when you poke it, it’s ready to be folded.

 Pop it out on to your work surface and roughly flatten it. Using your finger tips.

 Fold one third over

Then the other third over. Turn it 90 degrees, and fold it to thirds again. Pop it back in the bowl.

 looking kind of square

Another prove for about 30 minutes, (longer if it’s colder).  Then get it out and press the dough down on the working surface area and shape. Or…

Take the ball of dough out of the bowl and place on the bench. Pulling a side of the circle, and dragging it into the middle and press down. Keep going until you have gone all the way around. Then using one hand to do the same process with the heel of your hand, (side to the middle) and your other hand turning the disc. This process can be used instead of the folding after the initial prove or it can be a way to do a final shape.

 In to the middle.

 Looks like that

and then flick it over. Should be smooth and round. Once you’ve got the shape you want, pop it on an oiled tray (or a tray lined with baking paper) cover it with a plastic shopping bag and leave it to prove again in a warm spot. Should have risen by about 2/3 and feel/look soft and pillowy. This can take 30+ minutes.

This dough can be  shaped into just about anything. I used it as a foccacia base here, but have used it as a fish, mermaid, sunflower, grissini and bread rolls.

Bake in a pre-heated oven at 240C with steam. I use a water squirter bottle for the steam. 20 squirts in the crack of the door once you’ve popped the bread in or you can use a little dish of water at the bottom of the oven when you turn it on. Baking time depends on the shape you have made. Bread is cooked when dark golden in colour and sounds hollow if tapped.

*****

 The trick with bread is, you just have to practise. Make it, and if there are any problems, write down what they are so you remember for next time and can change it accordingly. I watched my mum make bread my whole childhood so absorbed how to knead it just by watching. If you have never played with dough before though, it might seem a little daunting.

Play with it.

At worst, they will be stone hard burnt unsalted bricks, (and I’ve certainly made my share of them before). Most likely though, they’ll be delicious, and you’ll never want to buy shop bread again.

Books to make you want to play further

Bourke Street Bakery

The handmade loaf

River Cottage handbook- Bread

Online

The Fresh Loaf 

Dan Lepard

Wild Yeast