unexpected fluttering

We're big on notes in our family. Not so much of the 'thank you for the thoughtful gift' variety but more often than not our handwritten notes feature the details of a new favourite restaurant, important bus route numbers or, from when we've holidayed together, instructions as to our whereabouts - 'gone to the shop to get fish, bread, milk etc back soon.' 

I have always been a collector of words (I still have all my childhood and teenage journals, detailing fervent plans to have exciting haircuts and boyfriends and amazing clothes and I've kept just about every birthday card I've ever been given) so I find it hard to throw these notes away. I feel like there's something of the person preserved in the note. Sometimes when pulling a cookbook out from the shelf a note will come unexpectedly fluttering out from between the pages and I'll find myself tearing up at the sight of my Mum or Grandmother's handwriting. 

I came across one of these such recipes the other day, for Armenian Nutmeg Cake, and knew that I wanted to make it as part of this month's cooking club challenge (which incidentally is all about recipes handed down by voice, handwritten notes or memories). The funny thing is I can't remember for the life of me who usually made this cake, whether it was my Mum or my Dad, as they're both pretty good cooks. Dad was normally in charge of dessert when they were having guests over but the nuts and spices in it has all the hallmarks of a Mum-type cake, the kind that as a child I would probably not have been interested in picking at before the guests arrived.  

Regardless of who was the author of this cake, the minute I tasted it I was transported back to Sunday guest lunches in our old house in Pennant Hills. I think it somewhat miraculous that time can be preserved in a recipe like that. In sharing this recipe with you, hopefully you can make it and create your own new timeline.

Armenian Nutmeg Cake

2 cups brown sugar
2 cups wholemeal flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
125g butter
1 egg
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon carbonate of soda
walnuts

Set your oven to moderate (180°C) and grease a 20cm cake tin.

Combine the brown sugar, sifted flour and baking powder; rub in the butter until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Place half of this mixture evenly over the base of your cake tin and press down lightly with a fork to form a base. 

Dissolve the carbonate of soda in the milk; add the beaten egg and nutmeg. Pour this on to the remaining crumb mixture in your bowl and mix well. Pour this onto the tin, sprinkle with chopped walnuts. Bake in a moderate oven for an hour. Check on the cake about halfway through the cooking time and if it's getting quite brown you can cover it with aluminium foil. Once cooked through, allow the cake to stand in the tin for five minutes before turning onto a rack to cool.

And there you have it. 

It's sort of halfway between a cake and a slice and is at once both chewy and slightly crunchy, caramelly and spicy. Not the most beautiful of cakes but a damn good afternoon cake or one for when friends drop by. One thing though, if you're prone to colourful dreaming perhaps avoid having it just before bed. I don't think the teaspoon of nutmeg is enough to bring on the screaming jeebies but just to be on the safe side...

For a lot more wonderfully inspired recipes and memories have a look and see what the other cooking club members got up to this month:

Lucent Imagery  (cooking club founder)

From River’s Edge
Down by the Sea 

Explody Full 

Under Lock & Key  

Christa to the Max 

Juanita Tortilla 

...

buds and biscuits

Observations from the first weekend of Spring:

~ It was surprisingly cool, as if nature was saying 'don't get too hasty throwing off that Winter garb'.

~ From our back yard I spotted birds flying in arrow formation for what felt like the first time and marvelled at how that was possible.

~ A smiley face appeared in the sky with a word after it - I thought it was going to be decide but it ended up being decorug (whatever that is?).

~ A friend dropped round on Saturday with pear tart, which was surprisingly good.

~ We had lunch at my parent's house for Father's Day and talked lots about our upcoming trip to London - did I mention that we were going to London in two weeks? I don't think I have... 

~ I sat in the garden with Kristian and my mum, soaking up the sun and checking out the new buds and shoots coming up.

~ I made some protein-rich gingerbread biscuits to fatten up my Dad (and ate a few of the misshapen ones myself).  

Gingerbread Biscuits

Adapted from Breakfast, Lunch, Tea, by Rose Carrarini

125g unsalted butter, softened

90g brown sugar

3 Tbsps molasses (or golden syrup works just as well)

1 egg, beaten

370g plain flour, sifted (I substituted 100g of flour for quinoa flakes, to up the protein)

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 Tbsp ground ginger

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1 tsp mixed spice

Beat the butter, sugar and molasses/ golden syrup until pale and well combined. 

Add in the egg, then fold through the flour and other dry ingredients until the mixture forms a good dough. You might need to add a little extra flour or another egg if your dough is too wet or dry. 

Roll the dough into a ball and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 180°C/ 350°F. Butter a baking tray.

Roll out your dough until it is about 5mm thick. I heartily recommend well flouring the rolling pin and surface you are rolling on, lest you have to shout expletives at the dough when it won't lift off your chopping board. 

Cut the dough into the shapes you want and put them on the baking tray.

Bake the biscuits for 10-15 minutes, or until firm and browned on top. 

Cool them on a rack and try not to eat too many before lunch.

I hope you had a wonderful Spring weekend! Here's to more clear skies and warmer weather ahead.

...

gingerly

I've long been a fan of ginger. I enjoy it in just about any form - pickled, crystallised, in its beer or ale variety or ground up and baked in cakes. Up until recently I had a pretty cast iron stomach when it came to motion sickness but apparently it's good for that too and for nausea, something patients undergoing chemotherapy can benefit from. That's why I take it to my Dad. Coated in dark chocolate or crystallized, its a small something I can do to help in the face of big uncertainty.

Sometimes when the ground shifts underneath with the disorientation that illness can bring the best path to tread is a familiar one. It requires less cautious navigation and a sense of firmer footing. I think this is why despite owning so many cook books I tend to turn to the same few again and again:
Homecooked: Favourite recipes from Australian kitchens
The Australian Women's Weekly Classic Cakes
A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg
Leftover Makeovers by Sally Wise

Reading and cooking from these books is like meeting up with old friends. They might not be the most gourmet or fancy of tomes but there's something in each of them that speaks to me when I wander into the kitchen and think about turning on the oven and creating something comforting or nourishing.

Writing this now I just realised, they were all given to me as gifts (by a former boss, a childhood friend, Kristian and his sister respectively) which makes them even more special.

In search of the reassurance that familiar things can bring, I thought for this month's cooking club challenge - a dish from your current favourite recipe book - what better than ginger cake from a well loved cake book.

Ginger Cake with Caramel Icing
Adapted from The Australian Women's Weekly Classic Cakes

1 1/2 cups brown sugar
1 1/2 cups plain flour
1 1/2 cups self-raising wholemeal flour
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 Tbs ground ginger
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground nutmeg
250g butter, softened
2 eggs
1 cup buttermilk (or half a cup yogurt, half a cup milk)
1/2 cup golden syrup

Caramel icing
60g butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 Tbs milk
3/4 cup icing sugar

Preheat your oven to 170 degrees C or 160 degrees C fan-forced and grease a square cake tin.

Sift the dry ingredients into a large bowl. Add in all your remaining ingredients and beat with an electric mixer or wooden spoon until well combined. If using a mixer, crank up the speed and beat the mixture for an additional few minutes or until it is smooth and pale.

Pour the mixture into your pan and bake for approximately 1 1/4 hours. Stand the cake in your pan for about ten minutes and then cool on a rack.

Meanwhile make your caramel icing by stirring butter, brown sugar and milk in a small saucepan over medium heat until the sugar dissolves. Bring to the boil and simmer stirring for 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in sifted icing sugar. Spread over the cooled cake and cut into slices or squares. Share with loved ones.

To see what wonderful things the other cooking club members cooked up this month, check out the links below:
Lucent Imagery (cooking club host)
Down by the Sea
Anything Squirrel Squirrel
Chi Garden
Under Lock and Key  

...

potatoes, pies and pink

Our weekend was all about a very excited little girl (Kristian's niece) turning three and some equally excited adults getting to play with Mr and Mrs Potato Head and eat party pies and toothache-inducing amounts of cake and pink icing.

After a big week, it was so nice to stop for a minute and breathe in the weekend, to listen to the gutteral laugh of the birthday girl after having fizzy drink for the first time (care of me, oops!) and to see three generations of K's family together - to notice, in amongst the eating, playing and conversation, those occasional funny, familial moments of similarity that make me smile.

...

this has been the week

A few pictures from a walk I took this week during a brief patch of sunshine. The glimpse I had of the pair of birds flying high above reminded me in a very small way of this wondrous video. It's been a little bit of an emotional rollercoaster of a week, featuring worry of almost ridiculous proportions (the picture of the graffiti seemed to sum up my general sense of indecision) but I'm feeling a lot better this sunny Friday and looking forward to lots of good things: my Dad hopefully coming home from hospital on the weekend, catching up with friends, a party, cooking up a storm and some other new ventures.

During a brief flurry of activity one afternoon I even made some nice cornflake biscuits, which I'm keen to make some more of - this time perhaps with cranberries or sultanas, although with Anzac Day coming up next week I'm sure I'll be making some of those biscuits too.

Afternoon Biscuits (with cornflakes)  

Adapted from Homecooked 

¾ cup plain flour

½ cup cornflakes

1 cup rolled oats

¼ cup desiccated coconut

¾ cup honey

75g butter

75g applesauce

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

2 Tbs water

Preheat oven to 180°C and grease a large baking tray. 

Combine the dry ingredients in a bowl and set aside. In a small saucepan combine the butter, applesauce, honey and water over medium heat until the butter has melted and the ingredients are all combined. Then stir in the bicarbonate of soda. It will froth up. Don’t be alarmed.  

Pour the foamy mixture into the dry ingredients and stir until combined. The mixture should be firmish but still a touch tacky. If it's looking too firm add a small amount of water, if too tacky - a small amount of flour. Place spoonfuls of the mixture onto the baking trays and press with a fork to flatten slightly. Bake for 12-15 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on a wire rack before consuming all in one go, as we did.

Wishing you a lovely sunshiney weekend!

...

a day off

Friday was the first day in ages when I didn't do housey stuff or work or anything remotely work-like. It was heaven. My mum and I had a day trip out, a surprisingly Ferris Bueller-y day when I think about it. We headed out to the Art Gallery to see the Picasso exhibition, compared notes on whether a 3/4 full flat white was stronger than a piccolo latte (they were about the same) ate lunch in the botanic gardens, chatted up a storm and watched the passers-by, something I feel like I only really make time to do when I'm overseas.

It was so refreshing to act like a tourist for a day in my home town. And besides some of the most enjoyable things to do in Sydney don't cost a lot - grabbing a coffee, finding a park bench with a view, discovering interesting architecture in hidden courtyards or lying on the grass. I don't think I've done nearly enough lying on the grass this last Summer, so hopefully I can get some more in before the weather gets too much cooler.

I hope you had a lovely weekend folks. Here's to the sunny days continuing this week.

...

the island pt 3: food memories and the beauty of less

It's beginning to feel like a while ago now but whenever I look through the photos from our trip I feel myself momentarily transported back to the island.

One of the things I love most about going on holiday is that, whilst broadening your horizons, it also temporarily shrinks down your world, making you simplify and enjoy making do with less.  This is something I'm thinking a lot about at the moment as we are planning to move house in the next few months.

Some of my favourite memories from Lord Howe Island have to do with simple food, especially the meals we cobbled together from what we had bought that day from the local shop, or picked from the vegetable garden - the salads, barbeques and cheese plates we prepared for ourselves, enjoyed with many a glass of red or sparkling wine.

A salad we prepared most days, with rocket and everlasting lettuce from the veggie patch, tomatoes, walnuts, grapes and parmesan.

Cheeseplates to snack on whilst we played cards at night.

An impromptu pizza picnic with my family, overlooking the water.

Amusingly named and gut-bustingly good burgers from the local store.  Ned's was the fish burger, Future was Kristian's favourite - a burger featuring pretty much everything.

And then in a moment of unforgettable joy and simplicity we enjoyed the best meal of the trip - a spontaneous breakfast picnic at Lover's Bay overlooking the ocean, with vegemite toast, Lindt chocolate and grapes, a ring, a question and a resounding yes!

And then coffee and cake to celebrate.

...

with a fiercely confident conviction

I can always tell when spring has sprung in earnest because I really start to get my salad on. I'll start lusting after juicy tomatoes, watermelon and lemon, greenery of all kinds (cue rocket, cos lettuce, spinach, peas) and crispy things like celery, sugarsnap peas, cabbage and carrot. Meals tend to become more affairs of assemblage rather than of baking and simplicity is the order of the day. This weekend I managed to cover a few of my spring favourites: frittata, coleslaw and more than a few bowls of rockmelon.

Coleslaw is one of those classics, along with potato salad, that tends to stir up fervent feelings when it comes to ingredients included and excluded, technique and most importantly whose mum's recipe is the best. I remember at several picnics and family gatherings over the years listening to my mum and other women debating herb choice and dressing style with a fiercely confident conviction that theirs alone was the correct method. Generally these debates ended with the age old assertion, 'Well, that's how my mother made it.' And that there is what I think keeps us coming back to these classic dishes - the familiar, comforting homeliness coupled with the desire to make it our own.

I say all this as a pre-cursor because below is by no means a definitive recipe it's just my current riff on a classic, done in the way my mother likes to do things - which is fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants style, recipe-free and made with what is at hand (also, with gusto).

Coleslaw
Adapted from memory

1 large carrot, grated or chopped finely
1/2 savoy cabbage, shredded
1/4 red cabbage, shredded
1 small red onion, thinly sliced
1/2 capsicum, thinly sliced
1/2 cup whole egg mayonnaise
1/2 Tbs Dijon mustard
1/2 Tbs wholegrain mustard
zest and juice of one lemon
splash of white wine vinegar

Prepare all the vegetables and combine in a large bowl. If you have time (or the inclination) you can marinate them overnight in cold water and and a small amount of vinegar, to give them a slightly pickled, tangy edge. I'm a big fan though of adding the tang in dressing form. For the dressing, combine the mayonnaise, mustards, lemon zest, juice and vinegar, mix thoroughly and pour over the salad. Toss to combine.

Interesting side note: In the process of making this salad I thought I probably should check Stephanie Alexander's The Cook's Companion just to see if she had any definitive tips on making the classic coleslaw.  I had to smile when I read the entry for Coleslaw, master recipe...
Make a mixed coleslaw of red, green and crinkly-leafed cabbage and dress with a mustardy vinaigrette. 
And there you have it.

So, in an attempt to avoid over-explaining another classic, I shall just say that on the weekend I also made a spinach frittata with tomato, pesto and goat's cheese.

...

red

I'm not sure why but I've been obsessed with red food lately. Tomatoes, strawberries, capsicum, chilli - I've been craving them all, but tomatoes in particular. Hello lycopene!

My folks came over on the weekend for lunch and it was the perfect opportunity to try out a soup recipe I've been eyeing off for a while, featuring you guessed it - tomatoes, and to get some cheese and antipasto plate action happening. Nothing quite like leisurely Sunday feasting.

Rustic Tomato Soup
Adapted from Jamie's 30 Minute Meals
Serves 4-6

1kg ripe cherry tomatoes on the vine
4 large truss or heirloom tomatoes
1 fresh red chilli, or chilli flakes
4 cloves garlic
1 ciabatta loaf
2 small red onions
4 Tbs balsamic vinegar
a small bunch of fresh basil
some shaved parmesan to serve
olive oil
pepper and salt

Set your oven to 220°C and put a large saucepan on to low heat.

Pull the cherry tomatoes off the vines (but don't worry too much if there are a few green tops left on), then quarter the larger tomatoes and put them all in together on a baking tray. Crush in the garlic along with the halved, deseeded and chopped chilli, drizzle with olive oil and season. Toss everything around together then put on the top shelf of the oven for about 20 minutes.

Meanwhile roughly slice up the ciabatta loaf and put the bread on another baking tray. Drizzle with olive oil and put in the bottom shelf of the oven. Keep an eye on the bread periodically to make sure it doesn't get too brown.

Now peel and chop your onions and put them in a hot saucepan with oil and a good pinch of salt. Turn the heat up and leave to soften, stirring occasionally.  After five or so minutes, stir in the 4 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar and let it all reduce down.

Once the tomatoes are done, take the tray out of oven and pour everything in with the onions. Throw in the bunch of basil and then blend everything to a rustic consistency. Ladle into bowls and serve with some parmesan on top and your crunchy ciabatta croutons.

We demolished a fairly large antipasto plate before this and I was mistaken in thinking this soup would be a light main but trust me, it's a surprisingly full bodied little number.  My Dad claimed it was like a hot gazpacho and I'm tempted to try a cooled down version of this recipe in the summer months.

...

keeping warm

A few quiet moments from the weekend. 

We went north to Newcastle for a family lunch on Saturday and had our hair whipped into a lather by the onshore breeze but enjoyed delicious coffees from our favourite place, Scotties, to warm us up and then a pretty damn nice lunch at Jonahs. Our niece stole the show with her considerable excitement at being able to enjoy both fish and chips and her magnetic elmo book simultaneously. The tomato sauce was a considerable hit as well. A favourite with me too. 

When we returned to Sydney, it was cold and so we indulged in vast amounts of comfort food. Vegetables will definitely be making more of an appearance this week! But first, tonight, I think spaghetti and meatballs may be on the cards.

Hope you all had a good weekend and are keeping well rugged up!