Raspberry pavlova redux

Transcendent

A picture is worth a thousand words. I have four of them. Truly flawless food.

Raspberry pavlova redux

You might remember that in my post back in October, Grand Final fever – part deux, I made a chocolate and raspberry pavlova from Nigella Lawson. Back then I gave it a rating of trusty, saying that I had to turn down the oven temperature and also use fresh raspberries. I promised to make it again in summer when the fresh raspberries were out.

Start with a flawless meringue base...

Well, it’s now summer (with a vengeance – they’re forecasting 38C, or 100F, for Christmas Day), and fresh raspberries are in stock, but at $8 for a small punnet, they’re a bit pricey. However, they’re only in season for a few weeks a year, so I thought that morning tea for my last day at work would be a great occasion to make it again. This pavlova screams Christmas – well, an Australian one, at least – but Christmas Day at my mother-in-law’s is just too full of food to do this justice, so I thought I would make this for an appreciative crowd, my now ex-work colleagues.

...top with raspberries, cream and chocolate...

Wow. They were blown away. So was I. Things were looking good the night before when I made the meringue base – and learning from last time, I turned the oven down. Everyone’s oven is different, so I really recommend a bit of trial and error when it comes to oven temps. My oven is a fan-forced one, so it’s really hot, and Nigella’s temps of 180C and 150C were far too hot – you’ll see I burnt the last one (and also the first time I made it before that). Looking at other recipes, I noted that Donna Hay cooks her pavlovas at 150C, turning down to 120C, so I did that, and – meringue perfection. I was really proud of myself when it came out of the oven crisp but not burnt!

...consume gorgeous crispy shell, with chewy centre...

Then this morning, I brought in the cream and raspberries, but forgot to bring beaters to whip the cream with. It was looming as a disaster, when the day was saved by my boss Ros and teammate Ben, who came to the rescue by beating the cream by hand with a fork. Thanks guys! The cream is now perfect, too.

Top with the raspberries, sprinkle chocolate on top – and stand back and let the crowd devour. The last image (taken by Ben, thanks again) of the last piece was taken just before someone came and ate it – so once again, a clean plate.

...and watch the crowd devour for an instant hit!
(Photo by Ben J.)

But, my goodness. This is easily one of the best desserts I have ever made. And I make a lot of desserts, so this is saying something. The chocolate meringue was lovely, light and crisp on the outside; gorgeous and chewy on the inside, just like a meringue should be. The combination of chocolate meringue, double cream and fresh, tart raspberries made for an unbelievably amazing flavour combination. I really recommend you give this a go. It’s not hard either. The tricky part is the meringue and once that’s perfected, it’s just cream and raspberries on top.

I used Betty to whip the egg whites; that was her last job for the year and, in fact, here in Australia for a while, as I’m packing her up and taking her to Switzerland when I move in two weeks’ time. I look forward to more cooking adventures with her then!

Sauces galore

Tragedy

Don’t blame this cheesy disaster on the recipe though – it’s my fault

Triumph

Greeks provide a tasty zing to lamb cutlets

Sauces galore

So I’m having a slightly lazy week this week when it comes to cooking. Some weeks I just don’t feel very inventive. This week I decided to use sauces as an example of how to provide a bit of jazz to ordinary food. First was gnocchi with creamy Castello and spinach. Castello is a type of soft, cow’s milk cheese. It comes in a blue variety, but I’m not a fan of blue cheeses, so I use the white variety, which has a mild, subtle taste.

Gnocchi with creamy Castello and spinach

I won’t say where exactly this recipe is from, as it’s actually from a local guy who runs food classes. The food class I attended was great, and so is this recipe usually, so I don’t think it’s fair to name the chef given the poor rating is based on my mistake. I’ve provided the recipe on how to make the gnocchi as well, but wanting dinner to be quick, this time I simply used good quality homemade gnocchi from my local Italian grocer. I have made gnocchi before, but for me it was a bit of a disaster. I’ll readily concede that Emperor D has the upper hand here, expertly making gnocchi a couple of times.

But back to the sauce; it was tragic. It’s actually my fault though. I’ve made this a couple of times before and it’s usually pretty good. This time I think I over seasoned it. It was very salty; I seasoned with salt once the cheese had melted, and then again when the dish was complete, just before serving. Add to that the pecorino I use has a slightly salty taste to it, and the whole thing was salty to the point of being almost unbearable. I couldn’t finish it.

Seriously though, I hope you give this a shot and do better justice to it than I did this time around. It’s ridiculously easy and super quick (well, if you’re using store-bought gnocchi); you can plate this up in the time it takes to boil the water and cook the gnocchi.

Lamb cutlets that have been marinated in Greek marinade

I had much better luck with Greek marinade on my frenched lamb cutlets. I can’t tell you where I got this recipe from either, simply because I don’t remember. But this is a great, simple marinade recipe with some fantastic, zingy flavours. The rosemary, thyme, and oregano work really well with the garlic and olive oil, and of course the lemon gives it that amazing Greek tang that I love.

Try and marinate meats for at least 30 minutes before cooking; and of course, there’s no need to add extra oil to the fry pan or barbeque. You’ll add more flavour during the cooking process if you baste with the leftover marinade using a pastry brush or baster. I’ve only ever tried this with lamb – as Greek marinade seems to cry out for lamb – but give it a try with chicken as well.

Lastly, just some advance notice that I may not be posting as often over the next couple of months. Christmas is a busy time anyway (although I do hope to post a few recipes I plan on making over Christmas), but it will be even busier for Emperor D and I as we pack up our house and move overseas. I’ve been fortunate enough to score an amazing job opportunity in Geneva, Switzerland, where I’ll be headed very soon after New Year. I’m really looking forward to posting from Geneva – no doubt I’ll have to try some Swiss recipes. Fondue, anyone?

Harissa in a hurry

Triumph
What more can I ask for than something that’s quick, easy and tasty?

Harissa in a hurry

At last! I get to debut the new camera! For those who missed it, I bought a new Panasonic Lumix G2 camera. It’s kind of like a small DSLR. It’s pretty cool, although I have no idea on how to use even half the functions on it, but that will come with using it and reading about it a bit, which I’ve done a little of already. Unfortunately though, I’ve only got the one photo to show of Harissa chicken with lentil mash – it was dinner one night during last week and I was kind of in a hurry.

Harissa chicken with lentil mash

This dish has only very recently made it into my mid-week dinner repertoire. I found it in the Winter issue of Donna Hay Magazine, tried it, and we both really liked it. Actually, I first made this not long after starting my blog, and Emperor D suggested even then that I should post about it. It’s very easy and very quick to make and very tasty to eat. The chicken breast – use free range please, if you can! – is simply tossed in some olive oil, sea salt and black pepper, plus some harissa, which is a spice paste from North Africa, especially Tunisia. You can buy it in gourmet shops and good supermarkets, but there’s loads of recipes out there if you need to make it. A quick search turned up this one, which looks very easy, but I’ve got no idea how authentic it would be.

The great thing about this recipe is that it can be thrown together in the time it takes to boil and mash potatoes. The lentils are a nice touch when they’re mixed with the mash. I think lentils are a seriously underrated and under-used ingredient in Australian households; they’re so easy to cook with (especially the tinned variety) and very healthy too.

The spiciness of the harissa provides a nice contrast with the starchy potatoes; quick, tasty and healthy for a mid-week dinner.

Custard tart and tiramisu make dessert heaven

Transcendent

The custard tart was easily the hit of the evening. The rating explains why.

Triumph

A relatively easy to make and tasty tiramisu deserves this rating.

Custard tart and tiramisu make dessert heaven

I feel that with this week’s post I’ve come back full circle. It was partly because of a great dessert I made for a dinner party at friends’ place that I started this blog – read my second post on the dulce de leche cheesecake and you’ll know what I mean.

Vanilla custard tart
Photo: Renee H

This time, with the same group of friends, a different dessert was needed. There were eight of us this time around; almost enough to make two different desserts, so I did! I thought about what I would make for a week or so before finally settling on vanilla custard tart from the September 2010 issue of delicious; and tiramisu, from Twelve: A Tuscan cookbook by Tessa Kiros.

Twelve was given to me a couple of years ago by my friend Nat – either for Christmas or my birthday, I forget which – when she couldn’t find Jamie’s Italy (which I now have). It’s a book I really like – full of the rustic, Italian flavours I love – but I rarely use it, so I was delighted to have this recipe to cook from, especially given there are at least another five tiramisu recipes in my collection. Oddly enough, this was actually the first time I’d ever made tiramisu.

Popular dessert, and for good reason!
Photo: Renee H

First, a round of applause goes to Renee and her husband Al for hosting the dinner party, and to Renee in particular for the great photos. Stylish! By the way, I mentioned a couple of posts back that I was on the hunt for a new camera. Thanks to Dan’s recommendation (it’s Academy Awards night for Jo’s friends!), I bought a Panasonic Lumix G2. It’s like a small DSLR. I’ve taken photos of dinner during the week, but that will be next week’s post. Now I just need to learn how to use it. Anyway, I had hoped to have my new camera to take these photos, but Emperor D missed the delivery guy by just 15 minutes and I had to wait until Monday to get it.

I’ve seriously digressed, so back to dessert. I made the custard tart first, the night before and, in another first for me, I made sweet shortcrust pastry from scratch. It turned out okay. The custard was easy to make, especially with Betty lending a hand. Put it all together, bake, and… oh! Amazing. Just gorgeous. The custard was just set and had a lovely smooth texture, which contrasted nicely with the crumbliness of the shortcrust base. The taste though – I just can’t describe it. It was divine. There were oohs and aahs all around the table and I think nearly everyone had seconds.

Tiramisu and the layers
of biscuits and cream
Photo: Renee H

Despite making two desserts for this party, I feel like I didn’t raise much of a sweat at all. Tessa Kiros’ tiramisu was quite easy; simply mixing in egg yolks and marscapone, and then folding in egg whites. Then I dipped savoiardi biscuits in strong coffee and, in this case, Marsala wine, before I layered it all and grated dark chocolate over the top. Next time I’d like to try this with Frangelico, which I’m quite partial to, instead of Marsala. It was quite nice, with a great mix of flavours, but really, it was completely outshone by the tart.

There was enough dessert though to feed a small army; Emperor D and I polished off the tart the next day, and there was a third of the tiramisu left. However, that army, and my friends and I, found ourselves in dessert heaven. The next dinner party will be a tough task for me to try and top that effort.

Vying for my husband’s affection – with lasagne.

Transcendent
But then, my lasagne is always perfect. Though perhaps I’m biased.

Vying for my husband’s affection – with lasagne.

Starting the layers; sheet,
meat, sauce

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always loved my mum’s lasagne. Growing up, we had a family tradition where someone would get to choose what the family meal was on their birthday; I remember most years choosing lasagne. As a kid, I never really knew why I loved it so much – I mean, it tastes great; it’s made by my mum – however, there was always something else about it that just made it what it is, but I could never quite put my finger on it. As an adult, I worked it out; it’s texture. There are the soft, thin layers of lasagne sheets; the saucy, chunky, meatiness of the filling; perhaps my favourite part, the creamy gooeyness of the white béchamel sauce; and the slight crispiness of the cheese melted on top.

Once I moved out of home, I got mum to show me how to make it and these days, it’s one of those few recipes that I don’t have an actual recipe written down for; I just grab the ingredients I need, and I just *know* how much of each thing I need to make it perfect.  Some onion, garlic, mince, tinned tomatoes, tomato paste, red wine, oregano, mixed Italian herbs and some bay leaves make up the sauce. Just simple butter, cornflower and milk gives me a great white or béchamel sauce. And lasagne sheets. I use commercial lasagne sheets these days as they’re perfectly fine, but if you want to go the whole hog, make them fresh yourself. I’ve done it once, but it was such a hassle, I’m not sure I’d do it again.

Bubbling and golden out of the oven

My mother-in-law, on the other hand, makes fresh lasagne sheets almost every time. I don’t know how she does it. I mean, I know the method of making them, but for the quantities of lasagne she makes, that’s a lot of lasagne sheets. And I have to feel for poor Emperor D. Being of Italian descent, his mum makes the most amazing pastas. Her pasta sauce is just divine – my sister-in-law has tried many times to replicate it, but apparently has not quite tasted the same. But her lasagne is very different from mine.

I always tease Emperor D about whose lasagne he thinks is better – his wife’s or his mum’s. I shouldn’t be so mean, but I never tire of hearing him emphatically exclaiming that mine is very good, while at the same time diplomatically stating that ‘they’re each very different’, as if comparing apples with oranges. And they are quite different. Emperor D’s mum comes from Sicily, in southern Italy, where it seems they do things a little different to other parts of Italy. But then, most regions of Italy do the same dish with slight variations. I’ve asked her about a particular dish – minestrone for example – that I’ve seen in a cookbook, and she’ll look at the recipe and say, ‘that’s not minestrone – not how we do it. That minestrone is from northern Italy’. I’m amazed that she can tell there’s a difference, let alone what part of Italy it’s from.

Buon appetito!

Emperor D’s mum makes lasagne with only a meat sauce, very thinly layered between thick homemade sheets of fresh pasta. There’s no béchamel or even cheese on top. It’s nice, but for me, I like the structure, the textures and the taste of my own better. And to say that I prefer something of my own cooking over something of Emperor D’s mum is saying a lot – she is an amazing cook and I have no hesitation in saying that I prefer her versions of other dishes I do. But when it comes to lasagne, which my mum has made with love since I was a little girl, I find that the original – the version I’ve grown up with – is still the best.

The proof is in the pudding

Triumph

Bill Granger’s Self-saucing chocolate pudding – easy to make, easy to eat

Trusty

Lemon pudding – great taste, but need another run as they were a bit dry

The proof is in the pudding

Sorry to use such an old cliché, but for the title of this week’s post, it’s rather apt; Bill Granger’s Self-saucing chocolate pudding and Donna Hay’s Lemon pudding. I made these a few weeks ago now when it was decidedly winterish; this last week we’ve definitely seen the four seasons, including a day where it was 37 degrees (that’s 99 for those of you using Farenheit!), so it’s no longer such weather for puddings.

Self saucing chocolate gooey-ness!

The Bill Granger self-saucing chocolate puddings are ones I’ve been making for a few years now. They’re so easy to make, and if there’s only two of you, this is an extremely easy recipe to halve. Because I never had ramekins – until recently, that is – I had use to my delicate, platinum-plated, but oven safe, good tea cups. Well, they don’t get used for tea, so may as well use them for something! I think halving this recipe might be just a fraction too much for the tea cups, because as you can see, the batter spills over.

It doesn’t matter really, because they taste divine. The nice, sweet, cake-y texture on top gradually gives way to gooey, chocolate-y richness down the bottom. The challenge is to dig down so you end up with a spoonful of both textures – soft cake, with gooey batter. I love to eat this with some really good ice cream; while Betty can make ice cream (although I don’t have the attachment yet), Connoisseur’s Vanilla ice cream is among the best commercial stuff you can get.

Although it’s no longer really the weather for puddings, I’m sure I’ll find one night where I can try the chocolate puddings in the new 1 cup ramekins I bought a few weeks ago. I christened these with a new recipe I hadn’t tried, lemon puddings from Donna Hay.

Lemon delicious!

This recipe wasn’t as easy to halve, and consequently I think it might need some adjusting if you’re baking for just two. It had a great, lemony taste, but the texture was mostly cake and not enough goo. I think I added either too little water or too much batter. The ramekins worked a treat though; they’re the perfect size for this recipe. I’ll try these ones again soon as well, taking into account the need for more gooeyness down the bottom.

On another note, I'm currently on the look out for a new camera. I loathe my current Pentax point and shoot digital one, so I'm looking at DSLRs. Suggestions welcome, but I think I might go with a Canon Eos 500D. I want my food that I make to be food porn, not food forlorn. Hopefully, this will be among the last posts with crappy pictures.

Communist supermarkets and how I became the Empress

Communist supermarkets and how I became the Empress

So I'm taking a week off from cooking. I did make some puddings I could blog about, but I'll save that for next week. For anyone who read my first post, you'll know that I promised to explain how my regal nickname came about. It's time to cash in on that promise, so here's how I came to be known as the Empress.

Emperor D and I met over ten years ago working for the same company. It's a financial services company and, back then at least, had a cracking social scene. One of Emperor D's colleagues and workmates - who we'll call Chappers - has a penchant for bestowing nicknames on his mates. His nickname for Emperor D is The Admiral. After all these years, I actually have no idea why. The Admiral, or rather, Emperor D, is not a particular fan of boats or anything. But, nevertheless Chappers christened him The Admiral.

I was nicknamed The Empress. There's probably a deeper reason to it, but I think it basically stems from my nickname Jo being somewhat close to Josephine, also the name of the French empress. (And no, my name is not Josephine.) Since that time, Chappers would always greet me as The Empress. And I kind of like it. Beats being a mere queen. Thanks Chappers - The Empress bestows credit where it's due. With the advent of social media, I needed to come up with a pseudonym that would fit all forums and forms of Web 2.0. I hit upon Empress Jo. So there you have it; the birth of an internet age empress in a nut shell.

A Muscovite spoiled for choice
in his local supermarke

For some of you, what I'm about to write could seem like deja vu. And for that I apologise, but I think it's important everyone knows my opinion on the communist, Soviet-era like supermarket chain (and my local one in particular), Woolworths.

When I think of Soviet-era supermarkets, I conjure up the image of bare shelves, or if they are stocked, filled with one or two brands of a product, one of which will be the favoured, state-sanctioned one. That's my local Woolworths, where I've been shopping for ten years. Perhaps it's a case of familiarity breeds contempt, but it seems every week that Woolworths finds a new product that they decide to stop stocking. And it's always one of my favourite brands or products. Sometimes I feel that they take the information on what I buy when I go through the checkout and deliberately stop stocking that item just to annoy me. And it works. And for the ones they do continue to stock it seems like they've always 'just run out of stock'. I recently tried three times in a week to buy my favourite brand of tea. Nope, out of stock. But even other Woolworths stores managed to have it. They have a small variety of products and an even smaller variety of brands for each product from which to choose.

'Hello! Is there a fully-stocked
supermarket anywhere for
my comrade and I?'

What really annoys me is that they stop stocking some brands of a product, only to infiltrate the shelves with their own Select brand - which I refuse to buy. If Woolworths is like a Soviet-era supermarket, then Select is like the state-sanctioned brand you imagine Soviets or people in East Berlin being forced to buy. We are an unashamedly capitalist society, so why not have the choice that goes with it? I guess that same principle is what led Woolworths to develop the Select brand in the first place - more profit to them.

You're probably reading this and thinking why don't I just go to another supermarket? And you're right - I should. But there's something comforting and familiar about going to a supermarket you know so well that you know exactly which aisle and where in the aisle to find something you're looking for. Nine times out of ten Woolworths has what I need, even if it means I need to compromise. But I hate compromise, at least when it comes to ingredients and cooking and eating with something you know and love. These days, if I can't find something, then it's usually a job for the gourmet supermarkets, and I'm not far from quite a few of those. This is just a vent - but I really do wish that Woolworths would stock more of my favourite brands.

A good tart can be easy

Triumph

While I would’ve given this Trusty myself, I think the last picture speaks volumes

A good tart can be easy

A double entendre for a post title always attracts attention, doesn’t it? But, cooking-wise at least, it can ring true. A couple of weeks ago, my team at work decided to host a morning tea for Pink Ribbon Day, which raises money and awareness of breast cancer, the second most common cancer in Australian women. I decided very early on to make Tobie Puttock’s salted caramel and chocolate tart from the September issue of delicious.

Careme dark chocolate pastry

I’d never made a tart before but, having recently acquired a tart pan, decided to give it a go. And, as the post title suggests, I found it surprisingly easy. I guess I found it even easier having to use the Careme dark chocolate shortcrust pastry, which comes ready rolled. It was divine. I had a little bit left over, so tried making a mini tart with it, but I could have turned the leftover into biscuits to go with icecream.I get nervous making caramel. It seems to take forever and I never think it’ll work out. But then, the syrup that was virtually clear just a moment ago, will suddenly start to colour and caramelise. I love salted caramel. I was first introduced to it via a salted caramel macaron. Who would’ve thought that the sweet, gooey caramel that then gets an unexpected salty hit would work? But it does; just gorgeous.

A slight flaw - the caramel is
pushed out to the sides

Throwing it together was simple enough. But here I will admit a flaw. You would’ve already seen that I’ve rated this recipe Triumph. I’ll explain why in a moment, but I’ll be honest and say that I think I made a mistake when setting the caramel. If you take a look at the image of the tart in delicious, you might be able to make out two distinct layers on top of the pastry; the caramel on the bottom and the chocolate on the top. When I poured the chocolate on top of the caramel layer, I don’t think I’d left the caramel enough time to set, causing the denser chocolate to sink to the bottom in some places and pushing some of the caramel out to the sides. It didn’t look pretty. But it sure did taste amazing. The flavours, especially that salted caramel, just melted together in the mouth.

The presented product

For me to give a recipe a Triumph rating, I used to think it needed to be virtually flawless. I don’t often achieve this and I would have given the tart a Trusty rating myself. However, when I explained to a work colleague what went wrong, he said, ‘but that’s just cosmetic. I bet you it would still taste exactly the same’. And he’s right. Looking over at the plate that once held my tart, I thought that perhaps I’m too hard on myself. My work colleagues absolutely devoured it, and I had comments on how delicious it was and requests for the recipe for the rest of the day.

This says it all.

So I’m going to lighten up. Unlike the tart – it was dense, and very rich. In future, I will give a new rating to recipes that are truly exceptional, that are flawless in every way. When you see a recipe given the rating Transcendent, you’ll know I’ve done something really remarkable. I look forward to plating up my first one.

Grand Final fever – part deux

Trusty

Only the delicious taste saves this from tragedy – gotta turn the oven down and use fresh raspberries!

Grand Final fever – part deux

So a few weeks back, it was the AFL Grand Final. If you’re not familiar with AFL, that’s Australian (rules) Football League. It’s kind of a cross between Gaelic football, football (soccer), basketball even, bit of rugby – it’s kind of a mash of things. But Grand Final day, traditionally held on the last Saturday of September, is a big deal. Over 100,000 people actually go to the match, held at the MCG, and millions more tune in from around the country and the globe. For AFL supporters, it’s a day where you get together with mates and snack on meat pies, hot dogs and sausage rolls – traditional footy fare.

This year was a bit different. The Grand Final ended in a draw – only the third time it’s done so in about a hundred years. In fact, it seems to happen roughly every 30 years – there were draws in 1948, 1977 and this year, 2010. The rules state that, unlike soccer where you would play extra time, the teams call it quits and come back the following week to slog it out and try again. Which is why, unusually, the Grand Final part deux was run – and won this time – on the first Saturday in October.

For the first Grand Final, Emperor D and I gathered a couple of our friends around for the standard footy snacks to watch the game. We threw it together kind of last minute, so I didn’t have time to put too much thought into what we’d serve. When it ended in a draw and we offered to host the game again the following week, I realised I needed to come up with something for dessert. I hit upon something I’d only made once before a few years ago – Nigella’s chocolate and raspberry pavlova.

Chocolate and raspberry pavlova - looks
kind of Christmas-y, doesn't it?

I’m not normally a fan of meringues and things like that. But chocolate and raspberry pavlova? You just know it’s going to taste delicious. Also, I liked the fact that the colours of the pavlova kind of matched those of the team I was going for, St Kilda, whose colours are black, white and red. I thought it would be a good omen. It wasn’t. Second time around, the Saints were thrashed to the tune of 56 points.

Because I’m not a fan of, and I don’t normally make, pavlova, this didn’t turn out as well as it could have. But it certainly wasn’t bad. I don’t think I beat the egg whites enough – or I knocked too much air out of it when I folded in the chocolate – so it ended up flat and collapsed in some places. Also, again, I think my oven is too hot; I turned it down 10 degrees more than I should have, took it out as soon as I could after the recommended cooking time had elapsed, and it still burnt a little in some places. And then fresh raspberries aren’t in season yet, so I used defrosted frozen ones, but I don’t recommend it. They’re a bit too tart in taste and also a bit soggy. Much better off with the perky fresh ones.

But still, it tasted wonderful. The meringue had a nice chocolatey taste and was crunchy on the outside and soft and gooey in the middle. Although fresh raspberries would’ve been better, the frozen ones served their purpose when it was all put together with the cream, meringue and chocolate shavings. I think this might be one I have to try again in summer; in fact, it would make a fantastic Christmas dessert. Might give that a go.

The curse of bad drivers and antiquated retail hours

Triumph

Being forced to change seafood ingredients turns out a winner

The curse of bad drivers and antiquated retail hours.

 

Let me tell you about the mission to get dinner on the table on Tuesday night. Firstly, there’s two things you should know about Perth; one, its citizens are notorious for being bad drivers. I, of course, would not class myself as such, but I do admit to occasional acts of stupidity. Two, the majority of Perth shops close at 6pm, leaving us back in the 1950’s; but I will be fair and say the state government recently passed legislation allowing them to stay open until 9pm, though this doesn’t kick in for another month or so.

Paper bags just waiting to be opened

So it was with great dismay and anxiety when I heard that two (or more) bad drivers had caused two accidents on the freeways during the homeward peak hour. One was going the other way, but meant the city roads would be clogged; the other was on my way home and sounded like the worse of the two, and left me scrambling to find another way home. I quickly realised that my chances of picking up the prawns and clams from my local seafood monger that I needed for paper bag seafood linguine before it closed at 6pm were rather slim.

It took me 35 minutes to travel this distance. To put it in perspective, during normal peak hour, I can usually get home in around 30 minutes. When there’s no traffic, I can make it in a little over 10. Thank goodness though that I realised that The Herdsman, which is on the detour way home, is open until 8pm. I managed to pick up the prawn cutlets, but as seems to be my destiny with seafood, they didn’t have any clams. I compromised and went for calamari rings instead. It turned out to be a great choice.

Open up the bag and it looks
like food Christmas!

Getting home nearly 45 minutes later than usual, I started to get everything ready; put the water on the boil for the pasta; turned the oven on to preheat; start chopping the garlic… um, where’s the garlic? In an irritated state after battling traffic jams and stressing over closing shops, I asked (okay, accused) Emperor D what he did with the garlic. He denied all knowledge of garlic – and then pointed out that I used it the night before to make Moroccan chicken tagine. We frantically searched for it, and then, with stress levels rising, I grab my keys and head out the door to the corner shop – which thankfully doesn’t close until 7pm – to get some more garlic.



So good!

There’s something to be said about cooking and good food soothing stressed-out, anxious minds. Chopping up garlic, measuring out ingredients, all serve to calm me down. I put all the ingredients together and tie up the baking paper so it cooks en papillote – a method of steam cooking in a sealed bag. At the end of half an hour or so, I take the bags out of the oven, and open them up, which releases a gorgeous aroma of garlicky butter. I drizzle over some lemon juice and good Olio Bello olive oil and sprinkle some parsley over the top and serve.

And, oh goodness. It was gorgeous – the prawns were cooked perfectly. The calamari was so, so tender. The butter, garlic, lemon, white wine, salt and pepper; all these flavours worked in harmony to produce an amazing result. Next time, I would love to try it with the vongole (clams) – I’ve actually never tried them before. However, despite the anxiety and stress to get it on the table, it was so worth it. Made my night.

Chicken and chips

Tragedy

Rock hard roast potatoes mean oven baked chips instead

Chicken and chips

Emperor D and I have recently become an uncle and aunt twice in the last four months. Our first niece was born at the end of May to Emperor D’s sister and partner; they’re pretty good cooks. Our second niece was born 10 weeks ago to my brother-in-law and his wife; our niece is very cute, the spitting image of her father. But as her father has never been one for cooking, I offered to take a meal or two for dinner over to my sister-in-law a couple of times. It never eventuated as they always managed to have something sorted. But because I had already flicked through my recipes books and found something easy that they could simply throw into the oven – white wine and herb roast chicken from July’s delicious. – I decided to give it a try for myself. 
 

Cooked chook looks good out
of the oven

It’s pretty easy – the night before, all the ingredients get tossed together in a bowl and then marinated in the fridge overnight. Or, if you forget to do it the night before, simply marinate for at least 30 minutes. Then throw in the oven and roast. It came out of the oven looking great. But this is a tragedy because the potatoes – which the recipe says should be kipfler, but of course my local Soviet Woolworths didn’t have any – were rock hard. Well, not rock hard. But they certainly were not in a soft enough state to be edible. I’m guessing that they needed to be a bit smaller or parboiled or the right type or something.



Chicken and chips!

Anyway, it was a minor disaster. I had cooked chicken and very undercooked potatoes. Thinking quickly, I had some of those healthy oven bake chips in the freezer, so I threw some in. What I ended up serving was interesting. The picture on the right says it all really. Kind of looks like fancy Red Rooster. At least the chicken was delicious. Chalk this one up to experience and try again!

Seafood risotto sans the seafood

Tragedy

While it tasted delicious, there’s no getting away from claggy seafood risotto that doesn’t have much seafood in it.

Seafood risotto sans the seafood

Did you ever notice how Masterchef contestants almost never make risotto? That’s because it’s so easy to stuff up. I love making risotto. It’s so simple and rustic, and despite the Emperor’s comments to the contrary, I find stirring a risotto for 15 minutes therapeutic, rather than boring. I’ve made risottos many times, and as long as the rice was cooked and it tasted nice, it never bothered me whether it was right or not. You know, cooked the right way, had the right consistency. Then I saw ‘Jamie does Venice’ on TV last week. I love Jamie Oliver; I’ve got a few of his cookbooks, read his column and recipes in delicious. and follow him on Twitter.

But watching his Venice episode of ‘Jamie does…’ enlightened me about risotto, and not in a good way. Or rather, it did, but it made me realise that I wasn’t cooking it properly. Firstly, Jamie, the Venetian ‘risotto king’ he visited, and most other cook books say that risotto should only take 15-18 minutes to cook – and I mean once the cooking of the rice gets going, not from beginning to end. I always think that my risottos aren’t done in less than 20-25 minutes. That means my risotto must be either overcooked or I don’t have the heat up high enough; it’s probably a combination of both. And then there’s the consistency. Despite my best efforts my risottos always end up claggy. Like Clag glue. I guess that’s where the term claggy comes from! But Jamie had a great simile for what consistency risotto should be like. He described risotto as having the consistency of molten lava – ‘like Vesuvius oozing out’.

Seafood risotto in The Silver Spoon

That’s a great description. But my last attempt at risotto certainly wasn’t anything like oozing Vesuvius. Admittedly, I made this seafood risotto from The Silver Spoon before I saw Jamie’s helpful tips. It’s a Saturday at home, looking at what to make for a night in. I suggest risotto. The Emperor likes risotto, but gets bored of my favourites, porcini mushroom or leek and asparagus. Flicking through The Silver Spoon I come across seafood risotto – looks simple enough. Having done our food shop already at our regular supermarket, we decided to visit the Woolworth’s in the city, where we have to go anyway to pick up a new Apple Mac Mini. Our old one was electrocuted.

My friends know my opinion of my local Woolworths – it’s akin to a Communist Soviet-era supermarket, with a small variety of products and an even smaller variety of brands for each product from which to choose. Woolworths’ own Select brand I refuse to buy – they’re like the State-sanctioned products you imagine Soviets or people in East Berlin having to buy. So I was therefore not very surprised to find that the only seafood in the city Woolworths available to use in my seafood risotto was prawns. 

Seafood risotto sans the seafood

I bought them, only to find when I got home that prawns are about the only seafood not in The Silver Spoon’s recipe. So it now became prawn risotto. But while it tasted pretty nice, this risotto was a tragedy. Not only was there no seafood to speak of, I followed the recipe and put the prawns – or ‘seafood’ – in at the beginning of the cooking process. So you can imagine how rubbery and tough the prawns were at the end. And of course, Clag glue springs to mind when I think of consistency. But that’s why I have Jamie to learn from. The Emperor is keen for me to make this again, so watch this space.

Lazy Sunday cooking

Trusty

Because pancakes and choc chip cookies are hard to stuff up.

Lazy Sunday cooking

Not that pancakes or choc chip cookies are particularly hard or a challenge to make, but it is nice to know that when you want to make them on a lazy Sunday, they turn out just how you want them to.

I love making breakfast on a Sunday morning. Emperor D is quite partial to pancakes, and I’ve found a fool-proof recipe from domestic goddess Donna Hay. They’re so easy to make – butter, flour, sugar, eggs, milk, buttermilk – why on earth would you buy one of those shake’n’bake things where you add water? Urgh.

Pancakes, coulis and marscapone

So here is my effort from Sunday morning a couple of weeks back. I add a dollop of marscapone cheese (sometimes with a drop of vanilla in it) and usually raspberry coulis. I was making the coulis for awhile – which again, is pretty simple by just reducing frozen raspberries in a saucepan with some sugar – but when you can buy some pretty amazing coulis from Providore, why bother? My patience on Sunday mornings only goes so far. Occasionally, when I’m feeling quite wicked, I’ll make caramel sauce with it. But I have to admit, I haven’t done that for awhile. Emperor D on the other hand is easy to please; he tops his stack with traditional maple syrup – the real stuff from Canada that costs $10 a bottle. It is pretty good though.

Milk and cookies is such an American thing (come to think of it, so are pancakes), but every time I make Donna Hay’s Chocolate Chip Cookies I feel like I should have a big glass of milk with it. I'm one of these people who love milk by itself, by the way – as long as it’s really cold.

Chunky chocolate goodness!

I’ve made these so many times; they really are a simple classic. These have coconut in them, which I love, so they’re even more decadent. Again, they’re made with simple stuff – eggs, flour, coconut, brown sugar, vanilla, butter, and chocolate. The chocolate part is the key, as you can add milk or dark chocolate in either big massive chunks (my preference) or in little buds.

My favourite thing with these is, just after they’ve come out of the oven, I let them cool for a couple of minutes and then sneak a couple while they’re still warm; the chocolate is all gooey inside. Oh, yum! Then, once they’ve cooled completely, I love to get a burst of chocolate when I bite in and hit a chocolate chunk. Oh, and don’t forget the milk.

Lastly, you might have noticed that on the top of this post, I’ve added the word Trusty. That’s part of my new rating system – Triumph, Trusty, and Tragedy. I think they speak for themselves. I’ve updated my old posts with the ratings too, so check those out and keep a look out for what I rate my efforts in posts to come!  

Betty makes pizza

Trusty

On the borderline with Triumph - but the base just isn't quite there.

Betty makes pizza

Betty combines the ingredients
into a dough...

Okay, so I’ve named my glorious, bright red Kitchenaid stand mixer. In my first post, I mentioned that she should have a name like Memphis Belle, but I’ve decided she needed something simple, old fashioned, yet sassy, so I’ve named her Betty. I’ve got no idea why, but I think the name suits her.

Anyway, Emperor D and I have been getting into the habit of staying home Saturday nights. Instead grabbing some takeaway, I’ve been digging out some recipes that I just wouldn’t have the time or patience to cook during the week, especially the slow-cooked stuff. One Saturday I made a great veal osso bucco, which slowly baked away in my oven until it came out all fall-off-the-bone tender.

It’s no longer the dead of winter here, so

 ...and then she kneads it in a 
third of the time!

 instead of the hearty slow-cooked stuff, last Saturday I decided to make something that still takes a bit of patience – pizza. When it comes to pizza, I have a great mentor and someone to live up to in my dad; he’s a great pizza maker. This is probably by virtue of him having to work two jobs in the mid Eighties, when I was a kid, to make ends meet. Well, thank God for the recession back then, because the second job he took was first delivering, then making, pizzas.

I’ve made pizza before, with varying degrees of success. But one thing I did learn off dad was that after the dough is kneaded, it needs time to rise. I remember a well-oiled mixing bowl sitting for hours on the kitchen bench, with a tea towel over the top of it, underneath which the dough would be slowly rising.

Emperor D's pizza

So, not long after lunch I start making pizza dough. Actually, I shouldn’t take credit for this – Betty made the  dough. I just put the ingredients together in the bowl and gave a gentle stir to get things going. Betty is just brilliant; first she gathers all the ingredients together to form dough. Then the recipe says to knead the dough for ten minutes. Betty giggles at that – she can do it in a third of that time with her dough hook attachment. After just three minutes, the dough comes out all smooth and elastic-y. I think I love Betty. Then the dough sits on top of my washing machine in the laundry all afternoon (my kitchen faces south and is freezing in winter), while it gently rises.

After a few hours, the dough has tripled in size. Emperor D and I preheat the oven, prepare our toppings and roll out the dough into rustic-looking (read, couldn’t get a round circle) shapes. I spread some leftover home made pizza sauce (tinned tomatoes, tomato puree, fresh and dried herbs) over the bases and we stick our toppings on.

My pizza

When I was a kid, I only ever wanted bacon and cheese on my pizzas, no matter how hard my dad tried to get me to put something else on them. Sorry dad – I’m now 30 and still only want cheese and bacon on them, but I’m a bit more sophisticated these days and add herbs and chilli flakes. I find when it comes to pizzas, the simpler the toppings the better. Emperor D adds capsicum, onion, olives and some bacon and ham to his. After baking in the oven for around ten minutes, they come out sizzling and golden. The base? Not bad, but I think I might have rolled out the pizzas a little too thin. Next time, I’ll have to have more dough for the same size bases or make fewer pizzas. Homemade pizza – what a great idea for a Saturday night spent in.

Do not try this at home...

Tragedy

See a pic of my macarons? No? Now you know why.

Do not try this at home...

Straight up – the chocolate macarons I made in honour of one of my work mate’s leaving do were an unqualified disaster. (So was Ling leaving work. Please come back!) In fact, they were so bad, they provided the inspiration behind this blog. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just have to laugh at how crap things turn out – then share it with the rest of the world. There aren’t even any photos of my attempt. And this is a good thing. Adriano Zumbo himself would probably fly the five hours to Perth just to permanently ban me, in person, from trying to make them ever again if he’d seen what I did.

Chocolate macarons. But not mine.

I’ve heard that to make perfect macarons, consistently, is the equivalent of reaching the summit of Everest for patissiers – so, they’re hard to make. Much harder than I thought. The chocolate macarons to the right are what they should look like. But no, clearly they’re not mine. This shot of these actually come courtesy of San Churro in Leederville. These macarons were light, crisp on the outside, soft and gooey in the middle; just decadent little pillows of… yumness. Yes, I know that’s not a word.

Here are some adjectives to describe mine: burnt; hard as bullets; bitter; uneven; just plain crap. I did get some positive feedback from the poor work mates I inflicted them on. A few said they actually tasted okay. They kind of did too. Initially I said they were macarons, but after awhile I was just so embarrassed that I started introducing them to people as ‘chocolate biscuits with chocolate ganache’. Even that’s a generous description of them. In reality, I should never have plated them up. (I hear you groaning!) Matt Preston would have smashed the plate on the floor and said ‘that’s disgusting’. And he would’ve left it at that.

But I think I know what went wrong. Firstly, I started to make these at 9pm the night before, after a long day of work. That’s just inviting disaster. Secondly, I’d never made these before. Normally, not a problem; the dulce de leche cheesecake was the first time I’d made that too and that was a success. But these are macarons we’re talking about. Thirdly, the recipe was fairly simple. Sounds silly, but I’ve seen these made on Masterchef. They shouldn’t be that simple to make. I need to try a new recipe for the next attempt (and don’t worry, I’ve got loads). Other things: my oven is crap (too hot, which is why they burnt); I don’t think I got the right consistency with the macaron batter; and lastly, by the time I’d made the ganache (again, which I’d never made before), it was really late, I wasn’t thinking clearly and took it off the heat too soon. It was uber runny.

And this is the point of this blog – its raison d’être. It’s to show that when things go right, I love to share that with everyone and celebrate an achievement. When it goes horribly wrong, it shows that I (usually) know what went wrong and how I can fix it next time. And hopefully you can learn from my mistakes. Watch this space for the next attempt.

A trek to South America for dulce de leche

Triumph

A dinner party-devoured dessert speaks for itself.

A trek to south America for dulce de leche

At least, at the time, that’s what it felt like to make dulce de leche cheesecake, the cover recipe for April’s delicious. But, I’m glad to say, this does have a happy ending – I count this as one of my greatest triumphs. It all started when our friends invited us over for a dinner party. I was in charge of dessert. Because dessert’s kind of my thing; it’s what I do for dinner parties. Hunting around my tried and true recipes, nothing satisfied me and I felt the need to be brave – to experiment, as Emperor D puts it.

Dulce de leche out of the can

I remembered the fantastic looking cheesecake that was on the cover of the April issue of delicious. I’m not normally a fan of cheesecakes, but this looked, well, delicious. Looking through the recipe, I was thinking that Perth has gone leaps and bounds in the food world; I’m sure dulce de leche will be easy to find. Nope. As a workmate of mine can attest, I spent frantic lunchtimes, for two days in a row, phoning every supplier and gourmet supermarket I could think of in metro Perth to find it. In the end, at 3pm on Friday – the day before the dinner party – I admitted defeat and decided to make dulce de leche instead. It’s actually quite simple; simmer a couple of unopened cans of sweetened condensed milk for three hours - making sure you don’t end up with a caramel explosion all over your walls - and presto, your very own South American dairy confection is ready.

Not quite as pretty as delicious' version,
but still, um, delicious!

By the time I’d put the cheesecake in the fridge to set, having made the dulce de leche, then actually put the cheesecake together – all three layers - and baked it, it was, *I think*, around midnight.  Emperor D thought I was nuts. So did I, in my sleep-deprived fog.

But oh, it was so worth it. At the dinner party the next day, it was clear that it was a winner. Putting the finishing touches on – dulce de leche sauce and toffee shards – brought it all together, and literally crowned a culinary achievement. Of course, mine didn’t look as pretty as the one in delicious – I mean, they have food stylists – but it’s all in the taste. Looking round the table of friends with satisfied looks on their faces made what seemed like a trek to South America for dulce de leche worth it.

But first, a word from our sponsor...

Hi. I'm Jo. Better known in the www as Empress Jo. That's me, to the right. There is a story behind the regal-sounding pseudonym, but maybe I'll post about that later. So, a bit about me. I've just turned 30. I live in Perth. I recently married, and, for the purposes of anonymity, I'll call my husband Emperor D. I work in communucations for an Australian government agency. Basically, I'm in PR/marketing. I love to write, so I like the industry I work in - I just don't get much of a chance to do it where I currently work.

I've always been fascinated by food. But it's only really been since the advent of Masterchef that I've taken a real interest in it. When Emperor D and I first moved in together about ten years ago, I had one display book of recipes; hand-me-down classics and childhood favourites from my mum that I’d cut out and stuck on blank paper. That gradually grew to two, but in the last two years, it's exploded. I now have five 'volumes' of display books full of recipes that I've tried and loved, tried and hated, haven't tried yet, and probably will never try. These come from all sorts of places - newspapers, things I've randomly written down - but most are from delicious, which I consider to be the king of foodie magazines. Along with my own recipe books, my collection of cookbooks has grown too; first it was a couple of the Family Circle ones, then I expanded into Donna Hay – Modern Classics  Books 1 and 2 are great investments, btw - but lately, I've gone hard core, acquiring Larousse Gastronomique  (a bargain at 50% off!), and it's Italian cousin, The Silver Spoon.

It's the same for kitchen gadgets. I started with the stock-standard appliances and utensils, but along the way I've managed to accumulate a ravioli cutter, a slow cooker, a cafe press (in addition to a toasted sandwich maker), a George Foreman grill, a mortar and pestle, some scales, a new block of Scanpan knives, brand new set of Scanpan pots and pans, a food processor, a random collection of bakeware, and... thanks to Emperor D and family for my 30th birthday - my pride and joy, my Kitchenaid stand mixer, right. I've only used her a few times so far, but she's brilliant. I need to name her. Her bright red colour suggests she should have a name like one of those names they gave planes in WWII. Like Memphis Belle. Or Enola Gay.

Anyway, the whole cooking thing came about because I like to 'experiment', as Emperor D puts it. But that's not to imply that I come up with a recipe by myself. Not at all - potential Masterchef contestants don't have anything to fear from me. I'm strictly a recipe follower. But some of the recipes I like to have a crack at do seem like experiments. I occasionally find myself driving around town for hard to find and often expensive ingredients, like pashmak and dulce de leche (look out for the story behind that one in my next post). Sometimes I'll have an original idea of my own, but not often.

This blog came about because, last Thursday, I had a crack at making chocolate macarons (not macaroons!). I'll post more about them later, but they were an unqualified disaster. I got some positive comments from the workmates I inflicted them on, but they didn't look pretty. Then I started to think about all the other things I've made and the ones that turned out really well and the ones that... well, just didn't. As I've said, I like to write, so here we are - the solution these days is to write a blog. I could keep a diary and keep the disasters to myself, but that wouldn't be much fun now, would it?

I have no idea how much or how often I'll post; but I've got some great ideas for posts that I hope to get up soon. Sometimes I might go totally off topic and post something completely random. Bear with me when that happens - I'll be back to normal programming soon enough.

I really hope you enjoy the blog. If I manage to bring a smile to your face as you read, then I'll consider my job done.