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 

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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.

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magnolia jam

As you may have picked up from my recent posts, I've become rather enamoured of magnolias lately. I feel like I'm seeing them everywhere at the moment but especially in a few key locations where I often need a beautiful pick me up (on the way to work; on the way to the hospital). I feel like they're such a hopeful flower - blooming as they do at the end of Winter and early Spring on naked branches, gradually making way for green sprouting leaves.

If only I could cook up and bottle magnolias as jam, to savour them on toast in the morning, to literally consume the hopefulness they hold for me. Instead I thought perhaps homemade strawberry jam might be a fair substitute, especially as the strawberries seem to be exploding with brightness and flavour at the moment. There is something about the idea of ingesting bold colours that is appealing to me, something intrinsically nourishing and life affirming. And besides, I've never made strawberry jam before. In fact I never even used to like it. I don't know why, perhaps it was because growing up we were more of an apricot jam household. But the strawberries are demanding my attention at the moment and so to strawberry fields of jam we go.

Sally Wise, as usual, was my go to for this one and she makes it pretty simple and straightforward, which is always a nice way to go.

Strawberry Jam
Adapted from Sally Wise

500g strawberries, hulled
3/4 tsp tartaric acid
1/4 cup of water
500g sugar

Chop the strawberries roughly and place in a medium saucepan with the tartaric acid and water.  Bring to the boil and simmer gently for 10 minutes.  Add the sugar and stir until dissolved.  Bring the jam to the boil and boil over medium heat for 20 minutes. Keep an eye on it though. If you have a raging hot gas burner like I do, you may want to lower down the heat or take it off the stove a bit earlier. My jam ended up quite caramelised, which was good but might not be what you're going for.

Pour into sterilised bottles and seal immediately. Then enjoy on toast or stirred through yogurt or with fresh strawberries, gingerbread biscuits and mascarpone (as we did with my Mum on Tuesday night) or however you like it.

Just before we go, here a few interesting facts about magnolia which I discovered during my travels and which further reinforce my enjoyment of this rather amazing plant:
- Magnolia evolved before bees appeared
- the aromatic bark contains magnolol and honokiol, two polyphenolic compounds that may have demonstrated anti-anxiety properties
- in parts of Japan, the leaves of magnolia obovata are used for wrapping food and as cooking dishes.

So there you go: beautiful, hopeful and useful - qualities I think can safely apply to jam as well.

I wasn't the only one to make jam this month.
To see what all the lovely cooking club members made, do stop by their places below.

Lucent Imagery (cooking club founder)
From River's Edge
Down by the Sea
Explody Full
Chi Garden
Under Lock and Key
Adventures of the Ordinary
Christa to the Max

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best of british

How was your weekend?

It was amazingly warm here in Sydney so, after washing just about everything in the house, we got out and about for a few good walks around the neighbourhood, where I spotted gorgeous magnolias and fun murals.

And it seems I've become rather affected by the London Olympics, if my weekend baking is any indication. On Saturday I met up with a friend for coffee and cake at a cute little place on Norton Street and once the topic of cornish pasties came up there was no turning back.  They were going to be on the dinner menu one way or another.  My distant British heritage kicked into gear and, after a brief discussion on preferred ingredients including Alissa's recommendation to opt for pastry of the short-crust kind over the puff variety, it was on. I'll admit that I didn't use a recipe because sometimes on a Saturday night after a few glasses of shiraz that's how I roll but there are plenty of good ones out there, like here or here (Delia's pie version).  If you own a copy of Stephanie Alexander's The Cooks Companion you just know there's going to be one in there.

We ate our pasties with lashings of tomato sauce whilst watching the basketball and gymnastics and adding our own enthusiastic commentary to the proceedings. Then on Sunday, needing only the merest slight nudge of a suggestion from Kristian, I went and whipped up a batch of scones and then we ate a few of them somewhat guiltily in front of the marathon.

I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of walking to work this week to compensate...

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a week of breakfasts

There is something to be said for seeing the passage of time in food. You get glimpses of your own patterns and behaviour, something that has a tendency to slip past in the normal course of the week. Looking through my camera recently was an interesting insight into what I've been preparing for breakfast.

I realised after my last post just how many avocado toasts I've been having for a start and I also noticed a certain proclivity for extravagant weekend breakfasts. Not that this is representative of a typical week in our household. I don't usually make a habit of feasting on cake or pie for breakfast (although when I do it is magnificent). 

The Banoffee Pie was courtesy of our lovely friend Bec, who had made it for a games night we hosted recently. There was some leftover and on Sunday morning, bleary-eyed and a little tired after a late night of games related hilarity I opened the fridge and thought 'Yes, that pie is going to be breakfast.'

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workaday meals

I realised recently, after reading this wonderful post, that I don't often write about the food I actually prepare for us during the week, especially those regular workaday meals or snacks that come together almost by themselves because I've made them many times before.

I don't know why I have this hesitation because I get just as much inspiration from seeing what people make to nourish themselves when they're busy as from perfectly styled meals that require fancy ingredients and dedicated preparation time.

So here goes, a simple meal that I often make for breakfast or whenever the need for something quick and sustaining arises, or just when I feel like it.

Avocado Toast

1 avocado (makes plenty for two)
some thick crusty bread or toasted bagels
salt and cracked pepper
squeeze of lemon

Spoon out your avocado into a small bowl and mash it up well with a squeeze of the lemon. Toast your bread or bagel (I didn't make the bagels this time around but I have before and if you have a bit of time up your sleeve one weekend I recommend making some - it feels a little bit like a magic trick).  Then lather the avocado onto your bread, season with salt and cracked pepper and eat with gusto. An optional very Australian extra: spread your bread with a little bit of Vegemite before putting on your avocado and then omit further salt.

In NSW the Hass (purple pebbly skin) and Sharwil (greenskin) varieties of avocado are in season for the next few months, so I daresay I'll be having a few more avocado based meals before then. My childhood self is cracking up laughing at this because she knows I used to hate avocados with a passion and now look how far I've come.

For more seasonal produce inspiration make sure you check out the other members of the cooking club below:

Lucent Imagery http://www.lucentimagery.com/
From River’s Edge http://fromriversedge.net/
Down by the Sea http://downbytheseadorset.blogspot.co.uk/
Anything Squirrel Squirrel http://anythingsquirrelsquirrel.com/

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collections/ restlessness

"Change is the only thing worth living for. Never sit your life out at a desk. Ulcers and heart condition follow." ~ Bruce Chatwin

Recently I've been feeling restless and wrestling with an inner conflict - the desire for both stability on one hand and change, adventure and excitement on the other. I want to cultivate a simple life but I also frequently get caught up with the desire for things and places.

I think we are all collectors in one way or another and perhaps the tension I'm describing lies in whether one chooses to focus on collecting things or collecting experiences.

I've gone through various periods of consciously collecting things. I've had a thing for bottles and jars for as long as I can remember. Back in my uni days I collected different editions of Keats' poetry, weird handbags and glass rings.  Lately, though the objects of my desire have been more homely in nature; retro cups, spoons, tableware and tea caddies with the odd plant and bowl thrown in for good measure.

I think it is important to surround yourself with beautiful things but I also battle with a desire for minimalism and a sense of freedom from possession. I probably need to re-read Chatwin's Anatomy of Restlessness, a wonderful book on this subject, which I wholeheartedly recommend if you haven't encountered it.

I think one solution to this often frustrating impasse betwixt stability and change might be to seek out fresh vistas where-ever you happen to be. Instead of collecting more things, collect some unique moments. Eat in a different room of the house. Take another path to work. Try new foods or new restaurants. Rearrange the living room. Wear something unexpected. Or, if you can, plan a trip - something we are in the midst of doing! Or watch Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations. That show makes me desperately want to visit and eat in just about every city on the planet, a collection of delicious moments if ever there was one.


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homemade marmalade

There's something almost magical about some things that you make yourself. Especially when they're items that you usually buy from the supermarket. This is me and marmalade - I love it, as you can probably tell from here, but I've never made it myself.

So when a lovely blogger friend recently invited me to take part in a cooking club, with this month's challenge being to make something from scratch that you would normally buy in a jar/carton/bottle/packet, I leapt at the chance. The universe was giving me a little nudge to get over my weird fear about preserving and canning and just do it.

There is a wealth of information out there about preserving, canning, bottling, pickling and it can be a little overwhelming to say the least. I think part of the secret of not talking yourself out of doing it is to start small. Remember when I made pickles a while back? - well I made so much of the stuff and was worried that I hadn't properly sterilised the jars so I ended up having to throw some of it out - something I hate doing.  Since then I've found a few good tips, such as here and here on sterilising jars.

So now onto the fun part, making the marmalade.

Orange Marmalade
Adapted from A Year in a Bottle by Sally Wise

Makes 750g, approximately (enough for three jars)

4-5 large oranges
1/2 a lemon
3 1/2 cups water
500g sugar

Start by chopping the oranges finely.  Place them in a large pot, add the water and bring to the boil. Cook for about 25 minutes or until the fruit is soft. 

Now add the sugar and bring to the boil, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Continue to boil on high for 25 minutes. Don't do as I did and try to make an omelette for dinner at the same time and forget to stir your marmalade - burning will ensue.

Allow the marmalade to stand for 10 minutes before pouring into warm sterilised jars.  Seal immediately.

This recipe produced a fairly chunky, thick marmalade, which is exactly how I like it but if you prefer yours more runny, I'd suggest adding more water at the start and reducing the heat a little in your second boil, towards the end of the 25 minutes. 

I opened up one jar this morning to go on my toast, one jar went into the cupboard and the other was gifted to a friend at work. I have a feeling I'm going to be finding ever more inventive ways to feature marmalade in my cooking over the coming months. I'd like to think my marmalade loving Gran would be proud of my efforts.

You can find out what the other wonderful members of the cooking club came up with for the challenge below:

Lucent Imagery http://www.lucentimagery.com/

Quiet Paws http://quietpaws.com/

From River’s Edge http://fromriversedge.net/

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warming on up

Our place was alive with the sounds of merriment the other night as friends gathered to help us officially warm it up. I made guacamole and ginger punch and friends surprised us with gifts and drinks, and, in the case of our Melburnian friends Emma and Sam, with their unexpected presence from across the border - wholly unanticipated and wonderful! A mojito station was quickly established and all I had to do was drink in the deliciousness and crank the oven for hot food, which was consumed at lightning speed, in amongst sparkler displays, nerf gun wars and even a pregnancy announcement from a friend. What a night!

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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!

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easterings

A smattering of moments from a wonderfully long Easter break. Don't let the photographs fool you - a

lot more hot cross buns were consumed that it would appear, along with twenty or so cups of tea, fresh figs, banana cake, quesadillas, tuna mornay, potatoes, potatoes, potatoes and soup. I got up ridiculously early almost every day and read books in our garden with cups of coffee, whilst I waited for Kristian to awake.

Instead of having chocolate eggs we made brownies instead and watched the most delightfully quirky British show - Dirk Gently, based on the books by Douglas Adams, which I can highly recommend. It is reassuringly awesome in the manner of most English crime comedy/dramas. 

Hope you had a lovely break and here's to another short week!

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