Slice Slice Baby

Too busy gardening to cook. Who would have thought! And who would have thought it such a dangerous pastime. Yesterday one was rather absentmindedly rooting about amongst the courgettes, hummin’ a happy tune, when a squadron of apple-wielding cockatoos descended and attempted to fruit bomb me from on high! Luckily no one was hurt but from now on I shall have to add a bicycle helmet to my already quite unwieldy snake-proof suit.

Speaking of being busy, and of courgettes, or zucchini as they are called in this neck of the woods, in times of acute activity the Robertson boys are always treated to several nights in a row of the old Kiwi Favourite, Zucchini Slice. Or Cheese and Egg Slice as I have renamed it (on account of the fact they both claim to loathe zucchini).



Zucchinis in Space



The zucchini or courgette is a popularly cultivated summer squash which often grows to nearly a metre in length, but which are usually harvested at half that size or less. In a culinary context, zucchini is treated as a vegetable, which means it is usually cooked and presented as a savory dish or accompaniment. Botanically, however, the zucchini is an immature fruit, being the swollen ovary of the female zucchini flower. (A fact I was previously unaware of. And that’s coming from someone who came second in a recent game of Trivial Pursuit!)

Having long since lost the recipe, and unable to remove all the soil from under my nails I set about grating two rather generously sized zucchini. I always do this over a clean teatowel so that one can wring out the excessive juice. Then I grated a large carrot, half a huge kumara and a big cup of tasty cheese. Also into the bowl I added a chopped red pepper and a finely chopped red onion. (Usually I pop in some sliced vegie bacon but on this occasion I was fresh out.)  Next I mixed through a cup of self-raising flour to which I added six beaten eggs, quarter of a cup of vegetable oil and some salt and pepper. Combine well, then it’s straight into a greased dish and into the oven for about 30 – 35 minutes (or until set and Golden-Of-Top). Very tasty both hot and cold, (great for picnics!) accompanied by a dollop of spicy homemade relish and lashings of ginger beer. Or every night until they’ve bloody well finished it accompanied by tinned beetroot and lashings of Heinz Big Red.

The tune I was happily hummin' (because it's how we live now). 

Get Ready For This!

Mr R announced last night that he "felt more warmth" toward me when I was a-blogging and revelling in the glory that only 31 followers can bring. So for the sake of getting some and because we are back from our adventures abroad and sort of settled in to country life, I shall resume. Pretty, pretty soon.

I have been toying with the idea of jazzing things up a bit but have decided to leave the watermelons firmly in place and continue with the crap photography and choice tunes. What may change though is that Mrs R will henceforth present other titbits from country life. Adventures at the CWA, fungal infections in poultry, battling blue-fly on my beans, that sort of thing. But mostly it will still be me cooking vegetables and pretending that I do it like that all the time…

There's No Business Like Show Business

Life has done a full circle. On Saturday we sunscreened-up and headed for the 150th Kyneton Agricultural Show, the sweet sounds of Creedence Clearwater Revival ringing in my ears courtesy of the teenagers next door. The Snake Handlers were up first. Surprisingly, I had the courage to touch many reptiles, not least of all a junior crocodile (with its mouth taped shut) and an enormous olive python. Mr R was a little more wary and when I bellowed “scaredy cat!” at him he retorted that repeatedly stroking a dry old snake just for the sake of it was not his idea of fun, nor he suspected, the snake’s. Welcome to my world.

Next, and possibly my favourite part of The Show was the poultry competition. This little poppet won ‘Best Behaved Bird’.

I suspect any sort of misbehaviour might mess up that marvellous bouffant, clearly her pride and joy. There were also prizes for ‘Cheekiest Face’ and ‘Best Prepared’. ‘Best Prepared!’ Imagine the prestige back at the hen house. All those early morning exercises, trips to the salon, careful dieting, they paid off!

There were vegetable competitions too, and prizes for the best pavlova, fluffiest scones, loveliest saucer of flowers and biggest bottle of pickles. As the proud inherited owner of a patch of rhubarb, I was pleased to see mine almost measured up to the prize-winning bunches. 

And on doing some research, I was excited to learn that rhubarb is actually a vegetable! (Except in the USA where in 1947 it became a fruit for tax purposes). The rhizomes ('roots') contain stilbene compounds (including rhaponticin) which seem to lower blood glucose levels in diabetic mice.

Not being the weather for hot puddings, I decided to experiment with rhubarb ice-cream and this is what happened… I cut a bunch of rhubarb stalks into even chunks, added half a cup of caster sugar, a tablespoon of water and two capfuls of rosewater then let them simmer away in a small saucepan until the rhubarb had cooked through and broken down. Whilst it was cooling I used a hand mixer to beat one cup of caster sugar with one and a quarter cups of milk (in order to dissolve the sugar). Then I stirred in a 600ml bottle (nearly three cups!) of thickened cream. It’s not called ice-cream for nothing. Once the rhubarb had cooled I stirred that in too and added about three extra capfuls of rosewater. This was then transferred to the ice-cream machine for churning which took about thirty minutes. If you don’t have an ice-cream machine then I'm sorry, sucker! Once churned and a delightful pale pink, I popped it in the freezer for a couple of hours to firm up. Served with strawberries, Master R pronounced it ‘a triumph’. Personally I think I was a tad heavy-handed with the rosewater and that it could have benefited from being served with a sharper fruit or possibly lemony or almondy biscuits. But they're for another day.



• Rhubarb and Rosewater Ice-cream



Return of the Vegi

It's a wonder you're not getting a whiff of day-old garlicky breath through your monitor such was the ferocity of yesterday's Caramelised Garlic and Goats Cheese Tart.  But what a tart!  And what a fine way to kick-off the season of the Summer Sunday Luncheon (SSL). 

Garlic is grown globally, but China is by far the largest producer of garlic, with approximately 10.5 million tonnes (23 billion pounds) annually, accounting for over 77% of world output. India (4.1%) and South Korea (2%) follow, with Russia (1.6%) in fourth place and the United States (where garlic is grown primarily as a cash crop in every state except for Alaska) in fifth place (1.4%). Garlic has been used throughout history for both culinary and medicinal purposes as this man can attest...

And so to the recipe.  For which we have to acknowledge the pretty amazing Mr Yotan Ottolenghi,  (http://www.ottolenghi.co.uk/)...  To begin I rolled out some defrosted all-butter puff pastry (from the shop!) that lined the base and edges of a non-stick fluted tart tin.  I stabbed it many times with a fork then sat it in the fridge for 20 minutes to come to terms with its new dimensions.  Whilst it was resting I pre-heated the oven to 180 and cut out a circle of greaseproof paper to put on top of the pastry and under some brown rice (in lieu of ceramic baking beans).  The pastry was then baked blind for 20 minutes before I removed the paper and rice and put it back in the oven for about 10 minutes, or until golden brown.  At this point it can be taken out and left to its own devices for as long as it takes you to prepare the filling. 

And what a filling!  Put the peeled cloves of three heads of garlic into a small pan and cover with water.  Bring them to a simmer, blanch for three minutes and then drain well.  Dry the pan, return the cloves to it and then add about a tablespoon of olive oil.  Fry for about two minutes then add a teaspoon of balsamic vinegar (the best a man can get) and 220ml of water. They will look like this -

Which might not look like much, but by God, it smelt like heaven.  Fragrant enough to awaken Mr R from his Sunday morning slumber.  Add nearly a tablespoon of caster sugar, a teaspoon each of freshly chopped rosemary and thyme and a mere quarter of a teaspoon of salt.  Continue simmering until most of the liquid has evaporated and the cloves are coated in a glorious dark caramel syrup. 

To assemble, break 120g of hard goat's cheese and 120g of soft goat's cheese and scatter on the pastry case then spoon over the garlic cloves and syrup.  Whisk together two eggs, 100ml of cream and 100ml creme fraiche with some salt and pepper and pour the mixture into the case making sure to leave the cloves sticking out through the top.  Throw on a few strands of thyme and pop in the oven  (at 160) for 35 to 45 minutes.  Well that's what the recipe said.  In reality my tart took almost an hour to set and then I just turned the oven off and left it in there to keep warm.  Served with a tomato and herb salad and fresh asparagus it went down a treat (though all that cream and cheese will probably be lodged in one's aortic arch for some time to come).

 

Why Don't You Come Back?

Mrs Robertson and her vegetables will return to the blogosphere from a new country kitchen location in a few short weeks... xxx

I Loathe the Red Hot Chilli Peppers

So spring hasn’t sprung after all. But I socked it to Mother Nature, taught her a lesson she’ll not forget in a hurry. In spite of her wintry persistence I prepared a cold dish! Perfect for a balmy spring evening with a chilled glass of whatever takes your fancy followed by the first mangoes of the season.

I like to call it Sesame Soba Salad and it features this week’s lucky vegetable, the good ol’ capsicum. Or the bell pepper. Or the red pepper. The Capsicum is a genus of flowering plants in the nightshade family, Solanaceae. Its species are native to the Americas, where they have been cultivated for thousands of years by the people of the tropical Americas, and are now cultivated worldwide. As a medicinal plant, the Capsicum species has been used as a carminative, digestive irritant, stomachic, stimulant, rubefacient, and tonic. The plants have also been used as folk remedies for dropsy, colic, diarrhea, asthma, arthritis, muscle cramps, and toothache. Handy to have in the refrigerator.

I began by cutting up three red peppers, placing them on a non-stick baking tray and roasting them in a hot oven until the skin was bubbly and charred. Then I popped them in a sealed plastic bag to cool and enable the easy removal of the skins. Meanwhile I cooked a packet of organic soba noodles (the buckwheat variety) in boiling water for four minutes before rinsing in cold water, splashing them with sesame oil (to stop them sticking together), and leaving them to drain. Meanwhile, meanwhile I topped and tailed a generous handful of long green beans and gave them two minutes in the microwave before plunging them headfirst into a bowl of icy water to stop them from continuing to cook and to maintain their emerald hue.

Meanwhile, meanwhile, meanwhile I toasted about 3 tablespoons of sesame seeds and thinly sliced a small red onion. Now to the soy and chilli dressing. I must admit my quantities were a little haphazard and the end result was achieved purely through tasting and muttering, muttering and tasting. I mixed the following ingredients together to make about two-thirds of a cup of dressing – tamari, vegetable oil, sesame oil, lime juice, raw sugar, rice wine vinegar, mirin, minced garlic, minced ginger, chopped fresh chilli, salt and pepper.

Having relieved the red pepper pieces of their skins, I cut them into strips and added them to the noodles along with the beans, red onion, sesame seeds and a cup of coriander leaves. Then I poured the dressing over, gave the salad a gentle but thorough toss and served it topped with cubes of marinated tofu and some more fresh coriander. It was alright. Admittedly if I was a contestant on Iron Chef I’d be marked down for not duly featuring the feature ingredient. But hey, what’s a poor housewife to do?

Sesame Soba Salad

Chris Bell (Pepper)!

Just Beet It!

Oh Dear Reader! I was all set, truly prepared to rustle up a beetroot, walnut and goat’s cheese risotto on a rainy Saturday evening. It was supposed to be all special, in honour of Father’s Day. And then the father in question, our very own Mr R, sidled into the kitchen and sheepishly announced that he really doesn’t care for risotto and cannot abide walnuts and how about we have a pizza instead? Eighteen years I have known this man, eighteen years! And now I really don’t know him at all.

What to do? A lesser housewife would have ordered in and a better one would have set the yeast to rising and whipped up some dough in no time at all.  But I chose the middle way.  With tears in my eyes and a pain in my heart, I pulled a packet of Bazaar Gourmet Pizza Bases from the pantry and began to “cook”.

With beetroot, which is this week’s star vegetable. And I hope the last we’ll be seeing of the wintry root vegetables for a good long while. Bring on spring I say! Anyway, the beet (Beta vulgaris) is a plant in the Chenopodiaceae family. Beet pulp is fed to horses that are in vigorous training or conditioning and to those that may be allergic to dust from hay. Beetroot can also be used to make wine. The consumption of beets causes pink urine in some people.

I peeled and chopped five little beets into quarters, drizzled them in olive oil and seasoning and set them to roast for about half an hour (until they were quite purple and withered). Meanwhile, I mixed 250grams of goats cheese in ash with two generous tablespoons of chopped fresh thyme and spread it over the pizza bases with a palette knife. I added some finely sliced red onion for a bit of bite and the now sliced and roasted beetroot. A glug of olive oil and some more black pepper followed and hey presto they were ready for 15 minutes in a hot oven. After that I rather recklessly threw rocket at them as well as toasted pinenuts, that ol' balsamic vinegar, more olive oil and some sea salt flakes.  They looked like this...

And tasted much better than beetroot risotto!