made, read, heard, saw

Happy Friday!

Firstly, I wanted to say thank you for all your very thoughtful responses to my other side post.  Knowing that you are out there is a constant source of delight and inspiration! 

On the subject of things enjoyable and inspiring, the week in review:

1. Made these zucchini quesadillas and can highly recommend you do the same. I think my technique may have been a little bit suspect - I basically cooked up the filling in one pot and then lay the tortilla on a warm pan, put cheese on top then filling, then tortilla and then thought 'How the hell do I get these this out of the pan without making a colossal mess?' I ended up cutting the circle down the middle with a knife/ spatula then gently flipped the half circles on top of themselves to form quarters. It worked, sort of. Tasty though.

I also made a damn lot of crumbles. Apple crumble, strawberry crumble with chocolate, breakfast crumble (essentially leftover crumble from the night before with milk added). 

2. Read Haruki Marukami's interview in the Paris Review and was immediately inspired to finish my top drawer half-finished novel and simultaneously start on another, also to start up running again.  I think I need to re-read What I talk about when I talk about running. There is something very reassuring and inspiring about Murakami's routines and quiet persistence.

3. Listened to Carl Sagan's message to the Mars explorers and got a bit teary.

4. Watched Maira Kalman reading her work on identity, happiness and existence and nodded vigorously in agreement with many of her wonderful words and ideas. If you haven't come across her yet, check her out, you'll be glad you did.

And that is all for now, have a wonderful weekend!

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reel food night

The other night we headed down to Rozelle to the first of the Reel Food Nights, organised by the Youth Food Movement, younger sibling to the Slow Food Movement. I must admit I was lured in by the promise of veggie food trucks but what was really interesting was hearing more about sustainable food practices and learning about young farmers exploring small urban farming and agricultural projects in a documentary screened on the night - The Greenhorns. We enjoyed several glasses of organic red wine and some rather splendid moroccan spiced popcorn during the film but alas the food truck ran out of veggie burgers so we just had some cheese on toast when we got home.

Saturday morning, fuelled on by the spirit of the evening, Kristian and I went to the Organic Farmers Markets in Lilyfield, spotted lots of cute dogs and stocked up on some veggies for the week. The stall-holder I bought our veggies from threw in a banana for nothing and an extra tomato, which has essentially guaranteed him a customer for life. The banana was squat and a bit brown but thoroughly delicious. I feel like I have more respect for these vegetables having bought them from the people who grew them and I want to do right by them and make something special. Sunday dinner here we come.

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greenery

I think I must be craving vitamins because I've been on a major broccoli (and green) kick of late. It seems like most of my meals in the last week have been crafted around broccoli in some way. I pull out that delightful head of green from the fridge and then I open the pantry and see what comes to mind. It's also one of those veggies I was always a bit fussy about as a kid, so there's certain element of back patting going on now that I've made friends with it.

And it's not only tasty and versatile as all get out but it's a great source of calcium, potassium, vitamins A and C, fibre, anticarcinogens and antioxidants. And in light of recent familial health matters, I'm trying to be more mindful of eating my greens.

Inspired by this healthy lady, on Tuesday I made steamed greens with polenta, a grain I haven't had in ages. If you're after something quick and nourishing, half a cup mixed in with two cups of stock in a saucepan stirred for a few minutes and you're done.

But for these cooler nights can I recommend a broccoli bake? Pop the word 'bake' onto the end of just about anything and I'm in like flynn. I might need to apply this principle to other vegetables like brussell sprouts in the near future. I'll keep you posted. But for now let's talk flower heads.

Broccoli, Cauliflower and Spinach Bake

Adapted from Bon Appetit

for the greenery

2 1/2 cups cauliflower florets 

2 1/2 cups broccoli florets 

2 cups baby spinach leaves 

for the bechamel 
60 grams butter chopped

1/3 cup all purpose flour 

1 cup milk 

1/2 cup grated cheddar or Parmesan cheese
pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 200°C and grease a baking dish.

Cook the cauliflower and broccoli in large pot of boiling salted water for about 5 minutes or until the vegetables are on the slightly hard side of tender. Drain and cool and then chop into smallish chunks. 

Rinse the spinach, then wilt in a saucepan over medium heat. Drain and cool. Squeeze the spinach dry and chop finely. Alternately you can use frozen spinach portions, cooked in a similar fashion.

For the bechamel sauce, melt the butter in saucepan over medium heat. Add the flour and whisk until smooth then slowly whisk in the milk until the sauce thickens and boils, about 3 minutes. Stir in the spinach and cheese.

In a large bowl combine all the vegetables and stir through the bechamel sauce. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer the mixture to the baking dish and top with cheese. Bake in the oven for about 25 minutes and then serve steaming hot with some more greens on the side.

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black bean and kumara soup

Recently, in amongst all the unpacking and boxing and sifting and sorting and the discovering of old high school essays and mismatched socks and forgotten trinkets - I somehow made a surprisingly good soup. Kristian dubbed it nacho soup and was very keen to have it become a regular staple (it has since been made a few more times). For my part I was pretty happy to oblige because it's tasty as all get out and very nourishing in these cold again, warm again Autumnal days.

The key to this stewy soup in my opinion is a good walloping of spice and a decent quantity of black beans, which you can get most places but not Coles in Leichhardt. Let that be a lesson to me. Anyway, we've been eating a lot of black beans lately. During the move when we were trying to clear out our cupboards it was those tins that got a lot of attention. This soup is a great way to clear out tinned tomatoes, chickpeas and black beans all in one fell swoop - it's a pantry buster.

Black Bean and Kumara Soup
Inspired by Sprouted Kitchen

The great thing about this soup is that really it's more a matter of ingredient assembly rather than sticking to strict measurements. In fact I encourage you to go off the beaten path a little and add some more spice or less tomatoes, or whatever floats your boat.  Taste often as you make it and you won't go wrong.

1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 a small head of cabbage, chopped
1 medium sized kumara (sweet potato) chopped into smallish cubes
2 cups low salt vegetable stock
1 tin whole peeled tomatoes
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp cocoa powder
1 tsp sweet paprika
1/2 tsp of chilli powder/ flakes (or more if you're daring)
1 tin of black beans, rinsed and drained
1 tin chickpeas (optional)
salt to taste
lime juice
avocado, more lime, coriander and sour cream to garnish
flatbread to serve

Warm the oil in a large pot over medium heat then add the onion and cook well until it begins to brown a little. Add the garlic, cabbage, kumara, tomatoes and vegetable stock. Simmer with the lid on for about 15 minutes, or until the kumara is tender.

Then the fun part. Add the spices and beans, with a big squeeze of lime and let it all swirl around in there together for another 5-10 minutes.

Whilst this is happening you can pop some flatbread or wholemeal tortillas into a medium oven to crisp up for about 5-10 minutes, depending on your oven.

Once the soup has had enough flavour melding time, add salt to taste, blend about half the soup in the pot (I used what my friend Sarah fondly refers to as my 'stab-blender' to achieve this) and you're almost ready to go.

Remember to take your tortillas out of the oven. Serve up big hearty bowls of the soup and garnish them with some chopped avocado, a good handful of chopped coriander and a dollop of sour cream. I think you'll know what to do with the tortillas... dunk them in and enjoy!

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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.

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figuring it out with oregano

One of the stranger weeks of my life this one. I'm still not quite sure what to make of it but I've been powerfully reminded of how important it is to appreciate the good things in life - family, loved ones, small moments throughout the day, a delicious meal.

And so, on to these tomatoes, which have been quietly looking at me all week as if to say, 'Well go on then, what wonderful thing are you going to make with us?'  And last night I finally figured it out.
 
Baked Parmesan Tomatoes

Adapted from Eating Well

4 tomatoes, cut in half horizontally
a small bunch of fresh oregano, chopped 
1/4 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese and a little grated cheddar cheese
salt and pepper to taste
 
This is one of those simple, delicious meals or side dishes which you can pretty well make just from a picture but, if you want a few more steps - here they are (may I first heartily recommend quite a big snippet of oregano - it's pretty hard to overdo this in my opinion and it's like having Italy punch you in the nose, but in an aromatic and flavourful way).

Preheat oven to 200° C. Mix the grated cheeses and oregano together in a small bowl. Place the tomatoes cut-side up on a baking sheet and then top with the parmesan mixture, salt and pepper. Bake until the tomatoes are tender, about 15 minutes. 

We had our tomatoes with rocket, balsamic and walnut salad but you wouldn't go far wrong eating them on their own or with some crusty bread. 

...

cool as a cucumber sandwich on a rainy day

Usually when it's pouring with rain, like it's been these past few days in Sydney, I dream about hot, nourishing stews and cup after cup of coffee. Perhaps it was all the kale flowers and vegetables I saw on my travels today but all I could think about was cucumber sandwiches. Something simple and reassuring to be eaten quietly at the table, whilst enjoying a good book and a hot cup of something. It's a strange day that I don't still love a good coffee or several.

This is the sort of thing you don't really need a recipe for - in the manner of toast or eggs or many other of those intuitive, sort of obvious things - it is more of an exercise in assembly. I have found though, after many a cucumber sandwich, that a good level of buttering, salt and pepper and a zingy mayonnaise add very much to the enjoyment of the essential ingredients: bread and cucumber. Crusts on or off is really up to you. I cut them off but ate them anyway because white bread is such a rare childhood-esque indulgence that I didn't want to waste any crumbs.

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golden

This afternoon, I was sitting in my study feeling the temperature dropping and becoming more and more hunched over and cold when I decided there was nothing for it but to run my hands under warm water for a few seconds (works wonders) and put the oven on. It was also afternoon tea time and since I've only got a few more days off before starting a new job I thought I should take the opportunity to get baking mid-afternoon, whilst I still can.

We are getting low on ingredients of all kinds in our house at the moment, but we did have some pumpkin and I had an idea. I love putting pumpkin into sweet things, being a little bit sweet itself, it adds a richness to the mix and such a golden yellowy hue. I've been enjoying the autumn colours so much lately, it feels like a visual pay off for weathering the colder temperatures. Similarly with food, there's something about eating colourful, especially golden, ingredients - it feels like you're ingesting light and warmth.

Pumpkin and ginger muffins
Adapted from this recipe
Makes 12

200g plain flour
100g wholemeal flour
75g brown sugar
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1 Tbsp ground ginger
pinch of salt
1 lightly beaten egg
120g pureed pumpkin
dollop of honey
75ml skim milk
40ml sunflower oil
3 Tbsp chopped crystallized ginger

Preheat the oven to 175C or 350F. Line a muffin tin with baking cases.

Chop and steam the pumpkin and then puree.

In a medium bowl, combine the dry ingredients with a spoon.

In a large bowl, beat the egg, pureed cooked pumpkin, milk, oil and honey until well combined. Add the dry ingredients to the pumpkin mixture and fold together, adding the crystallized ginger in at the end, being careful to avoid over-mixing.

Spoon the mixture into the baking cases and bake for 20 minutes. Remove muffin tin from the oven and leave to cool for a few minutes. Take out the muffins and cool on a rack.

Now, here's the enjoyable bit. Make yourself a cup of tea, or a coffee could be rather good too, and find a patch of afternoon sun to sit in whilst you eat enough muffins to feel like you're glowing from the inside.

Have a happy and warm weekend!

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vegetables with a side of deja vu

Today, I took a stroll around the city, spotting citrus eye candy and strange lists;
finalised details of an exciting new job;
met my friend Gianna for lunch at the building of my old job (a bizarre bit of deja vu) and enjoyed chocolate dipped ginger and coffee, as well as some laughs (hence the blur);
got out all the vegetables in the house and made vegetable and halloumi skewers with lemon rice, as suggested by a friend Jacqui a few days ago;
and enjoyed devouring the above skewers, whilst cosying up on the couch to watch Fringe with Kristian.

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a vegetable conquered

I honestly never thought the day would come that would see me craving brussel sprouts, yes craving. Not thinking about in an it might be nice kind of way but positively enthusiastic in an eating straight from the oven kind of way. What brought about the change? Well, two things really - baking and balsamic. Ok, and well also possibly age.  I don't know that brussel sprouts have a natural affinity with the childhood palate but maybe it's not so much that, as the fact that it seems most of our collective memories of horrible, mushy, bitter brussel sprouts seem to stem from childhood experiences of having them boiled and served on their own.

Recently, out of the blue, perhaps brought on by the colder weather and a foolhardy sense of adventurousness, I decided to give them another crack with a few tweaks, and now at long last I'm a bit of a convert. My Dad, a brussel sprouts advocate for years, will be ever so pleased.

Balsamic Baked Brussel Sprouts

2- 3 cups brussels sprouts, sliced in half
3 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tspn honey
salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C.

Whisk together the vinegar, salt and pepper together in a small bowl. Slowly incorporate the olive oil until a dressing is formed.

Place the brussels sprouts in a single layer on a greased baking tray with a small drizzle of oil. Bake for 20 minutes. Remove the tray from the oven, drizzle the oil and vinegar over the sprouts and gently toss to coat, then return to the oven for another 5 or so minutes, until the sprouts are brown and crispy.

The sweetness of the balsamic and honey cuts through the bitterness of the sprouts and goes amazingly well with the salt. They make a great accompaniment to home-made meat pie or are nice just on their own, with perhaps a nice glass of red and a few episodes of Fringe for accompaniment. Just a suggestion.


...

in a pickle

I realised at the end of this weekend that I had entered something of a nanna state. Somewhere in amongst going out to see the excellent Smoke and Mirrors and preparing for a job interview, I managed to make pumpkin scones, a spinach and chicken pie and about 7 jars of pickles. I also somehow sprained my wrist whilst sitting on the couch. Achievements all round. But let's get on to the pickles because they were quite exciting, in a way that preserves tend to be.

My gran and I were both big supporters of pickles and cheese on toast, actually, make that most things and cheese on toast, but especially pickles. I am instantly transported back to her tiny kitchen whenever I dip into that lurid yellow preserve. There is something about pickles that is homely and nourishing and just plain good and so I thought it was about time that I made some from scratch.

This would be the point where I found Gran's handwritten long lost recipe but alas I couldn't find anything of the sort amongst all my cookbook paraphernalia and so I turned to the excellent and reliable Homecooked - favourite recipes from Australian kitchens (with recipes selected by Maggie Beer, Valli Little and Ian McNamara). It's a little hard to find but I heartily recommend owning a copy of this little gem. It has so often had a recipe for something obscure/ old fashioned that I've got it in my head that I want to make and haven't been able to find anywhere else, such as: savoury cheese puffs or passionfruit flummery or puftaloons or... you get the idea.

Anyway, there in the back was a recipe for green tomato and cucumber pickles that looked to be just the ticket. I didn't have any green tomatoes but I didn't let that put me off and instead substituted carrots and leek for the tomatoes. I also quartered the recipe because otherwise it produces 27 cups and whilst I like pickles, I probably couldn't put away that many of them.

Pickles
Adapted from Homecooked, ABC Books
Makes approximately 7-9 cups

125g salt
4 cups water
500g onions, chopped roughly into chunks
500g cucumbers, unpeeled and chopped
250g of leeks, finely sliced
250g carrots, chopped
1 1/4 cups sugar
1/2 cup plain flour
3/4 Tbs ground turmeric
1/2 tspn white pepper
3/4 Tbs curry powder
3/4 Tbs mustard powder
2 1/4 cups white vinegar
1/2 tspn ground allspice

Dissolve the salt in the water in a large (non-aluminium) saucepan on low heat. Put the vegetables into the saucepan and stand overnight. Next morning, place the pan on high heat, bring to the boil and cook for 5 minutes. Remove from the heat, drain and rinse the vegetables well.

In a medium bowl, mix together the sugar, flour, turmeric, pepper, curry powder and mustard powder and mix to form a paste with 1 cup of cold water.

Put the vinegar and allspice into a large saucepan and bring to the boil. Stir in the paste mixture and return to the boil until it all thickens. Add in the vegetables and stir through to combine. Pour into clean jars and seal immediately. Keep in the fridge for afternoon snacks or for any time you feel like a slab of bread with pickles and cheese, or just pickles, or whatever your fancy.

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rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb

One of the signs that you're really living in the moment is when you don't think about saving stuff for later. When we visited the Bathurst Farmers' Markets, I was so enamoured by the sights, smells and tastes on offer that I completely forgot to buy any foodie souvenirs to take home.  I couldn't believe I'd missed out on all the good jams, pickles and oils, despite all the wonderful potatoes, tomatoes and bacon we did find.

But I was rewarded later. As we were just about to leave the farm, Sophie's mum Anne headed into her herb and vegie patch and enthusiastically pulled out great bundles of flat-leaf parsley, mint, rosemary and, most exciting of all, rhubarb. I was a very happy little vegemite on the way back to Sydney planning what I was going to make with it all.

The parsley was used much in the manner we had become accustomed to at the farm - as a garnish for just about everything - on eggs, in curries, atop salads.  The mint was made into a Pimms cup. The rosemary took a little longer to be incorporated but I have been enjoying just lifting the lid on its container and inhaling the amazing aroma.

But the rhubarb, oh the rhubarb, was destined for greatness.  The minute there was even the merest hint of chill in the air I was poised and ready to crumble.

Rhubarb and apple crumble
Adapted from this recipe

1 ¼ cups unbleached all-purpose flour
¾ cup brown sugar
½ cup rolled oats
½ tsp ground cinnamon
100g butter, chopped
3 rhubarb stalks, cut into ¾-inch pieces
2 apples peeled and chopped into cubes
¾ cup granulated sugar
zest of one lime and a generous squeeze of the juice
a splash of Pimms

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C.  In a medium bowl, combine 1 cup flour, brown sugar, cinnamon and oats and then rub in the chopped butter until the mixture resembles clumpy breadcrumbs. Pop in the fridge for about half an hour. 

In another bowl, combine the rhubarb with the granulated sugar, the remaining ¼ cup flour, Pimms, lime zest and juice. Transfer the rhubarb mixture to an ovenproof baking dish, and distribute the crumble topping evenly over the rhubarb. Bake for 35 minutes, or until golden and bubbly. Serve warm, with cream or yoghurt. 
...

puttering with capsicums

Life continues to putter along here and, in light of the sad things happening elsewhere at the moment, I've been finding it helpful to focus on being grateful and appreciative for every little thing - the good weather, the fresh food and water we are lucky to have. I've been sliding a little lately in the healthy eating stakes, so that's something I'm trying to turn my mind to more.

The other night I realised that despite their obvious healthy appeal and simplicity, I have never made stuffed capsicums. It was a situation that needed to be remedied. It was also a great opportunity to use up the last bit of quinoa we had lying around - I am a total convert to the numerous ways you can use that protein filled little wonder of a seed, and here's another one for you.  These capsicums should probably be classed more as 'filled' rather than 'stuffed' but you get the idea. 

Stuffed Capsicums with Quinoa and Mushrooms

Serves 2-3

2 large red capsicums
2 tspn olive oil
1 small brown onion, chopped finely
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 cup quinoa
1 cup vegetable stock
1 cup water
1 Tbs lemon juice
300g spinach, chopped coarsely
small punnet of mushrooms, chopped
2 Tbs walnuts, almonds or pine nuts, toasted
2 Tbs dried currants
1 cup low fat cheese, grated

Preheat the oven to 200°C. Halve and seed capsicums and place in a large baking dish in the oven to bake for 15 minutes.

Heat oil in a medium saucepan and cook onion and garlic until soft. Add quinoa, stock, water and juice and bring to the boil.  Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally for about 15 minutes or until the quinoa is tender.  Add in the chopped mushrooms, spinach, nuts and currants and stir cook for a few more minutes.

Remove the capsicum halves from the oven and fill with the quinoa mixture. Top with the cheese and bake for another fifteen minutes or until the cheese starts looking amazing. You'll know when that is.

Any left-over quinoa mixture is great cold as a salad the following day, although I must admit a fair bit of sampling went on whilst I was cooking this so there wasn't a whole lot left over.

...

A very passionate stew

A few months back we had a run-in with one of our older neighbours over some very loud early morning phone calls conducted in her backyard. There has been a quiet simmering resentment of the non-talking variety since then until last night, when I wandered in our back gate, head full of thoughts of what to make for dinner, and it all went quickly pear shaped.

I'm not normally the sort of person who has run-ins but my wordy did it happen last night. She called me something under her breath and it was game on. The hose came out, hers mind you, which she liberally sprayed me with, insults were traded, neighbours waded in. It was all quite alarming and I will admit just a little bit exciting.

But here's the interesting part.  After I had slammed the door, dumped the groceries, then headed right back outside to call a truce (this took some time as you can imagine) and returned back inside for the second time, I managed to make rather a good veggie stew.  I'll share it with you now, just in case you have the odd run-in of your own or just a hard day and need something quick and nourishing, which you can bang out with minimal fuss and preparation and which tastes good.  

Passionate Stew

Made with what I had in the shopping bag (with help from the freezer)

Serves 4

1 large can of whole peeled tomatoes, blended

1 can of cannellini beans, drained and rinsed

1 onion, chopped coarsely

1 large zucchini, chopped

3/4 cup frozen spinach

1 tbs paprika

1 tsp cumin

salt and pepper

olive oil to drizzle

Firstly, to really get into the spirit of things, you need to harrumph around the kitchen for a good few minutes banging down utensils and ingredients as though they are your enemy. Then, once you've cooled down a bit, cook the onions and zucchini in a saucepan on medium heat for a few minutes, then add the tomatoes, paprika and cannellini beans.

Now let it all simmer for about 10 minutes or so, like a nicely brewing rage.  Thaw the frozen spinach and add in to cook for an additional few minutes.

Season with a little salt and pepper (my still slightly shaking hands added quite a lot of pepper, more than I would usually add but then maybe that's the secret) and then ladle into bowls. Drizzle a little olive oil on top and serve on its own or with crackers or crusty bread.

To be eaten with gusto and if possible, whilst recounting tales of victory.