Plenty of Veges with Yotam Ottolenghi

I decided several months ago that I don't really cook vegetables well. I do eat plenty of vegetables, but because our veges are sooooo gggggoooooddddd here in NZ, I haven't found the need to cook with them much. I tend to steam them a bit, just to bring out their natural flavour, and that's about it. An abundance of flavour and freshness has meant that I haven't developed a vege-skill. Is it the same for you?

So, I decided to invest some time in learning about vegetable cooking. This is, of course, a lifetime project, but I decided to start with one of the best: Yotam Ottolenghi. Mr Ottolenghi is the Guardian's Weekend vegetarian columnist and a London restauranteur and chef. He's not a vegetarian, mind, but he does do a well-regarded line in vegetables in that fine city. It seems that Mr Ottolenghi has more heritage than Stonehenge – Israeli, Jewish, Turkish, Italian personally, plus an Arab boyfriend/cooking partner (I think that's right). And he draws liberally from them all – plenty of aunts and others are referenced.

So, I bought his book “Plenty” – which includes plenty of his columns from the Guardian and some additions. It's a very pretty book and the cover is padded (ooo, ahhh). 

 White is clearly a bit of a silly colour for a book to leave lying around my kitchen, but I'll cope.

A friend already had the book and when I told him I had bought it, he simply said “have fun chopping”. It's true that there's lots of slicing, chopping, crushing and dicing to be done, but I'm up for that! Bring it.

Pav and I spent a week on Waiheke to start our summer holiday, so we took the book along to be our eating guide. We had previously made the Black pepper tofu – which was very very (very) peppery, as warned.  But this time we went further.

You may have heard of my aubergine complex: I love them, but find them difficult to cook (partly, I think because I fear the amount of oil they can soak up). Mr Ottolenghi's Aubergines with buttermilk sauce were a delight. They turned out just like the picture (which is always exciting on the first go) and were delicious – full of the earthy richness of aubergine and the slightly tart tang of buttermilk and yoghurt, plus sweet/sour of pomegranate. 

Pomegranates are around at the moment so get some and make this.

I'm not using his words here, so any trouble is my fault:

Aubergines with Buttermilk Sauce, and Pomegranate
Turn the oven to 200C. Line a baking tray with baking paper or tin foil.

Halve as many aubergine as you have people from tip to toe – then slash parallel lines in the flesh in two directions to make diamond shapes. Don't cut the skin. Brush each half with about 20mL of olive oil. Yes, that seems like a lot, but it worked wonderfully. Lay them in the baking tray, flesh side up and sprinkle with 1.5 to 3 teaspoons of lemon thyme leaves (they don't sell those on Waiheke, so we used ordinary thyme) – season with salt and pepper.

Bake for 35-40 mins until the flesh is soft and brown and looks like it wants to be eaten.

Meantime, make the sauce (this is the part Pav did for us).  This makes enough for 3 aubergine:

Whisk together:

• 140mL buttermilk
• 100g Greek yoghurt
• 1.5 T olive oil
• 1 small garlic clove, crushed
• pinch of salt

Now, for us the raw garlic was a bit full on. If you're into that sort of thing, cool, but otherwise you could try to use garlic infused olive oil, or you could roast the garlic with the aubergines and squeeze it into the sauce.

Serve the aubergines with

• the sauce,
• sprinkles of dukkah (Mr Ottolenghi instructs us to use za'atar, which is much the same),

•  the seeds of a pomegranate – one fruit for every 2-3 people. To get the seeds out, halve the fruit around its equator; place the cut side on your hand over a bowl and then bash the round side of the fruit with a wooden spoon or equivalent to release the seeds into your hand and the bowl – start bashing gently and gradually increase as required and as your confidence improves; pick pith out of the seeds.
• some more thyme sprinkled
• and a drizzle of olive oil.

Absolutely delightful.

We also made two excellent meal-styled salads: Marinated pepper (by which he means capsicum) salad with pecorino and Courgette and cobnut salad (sans cobnuts, almonds instead in our case). Both were delightful ways to use everyday vegetables in a new way.

Plus we made Green pancakes – pancakes full of spinach, spring onions and chillies, served with lime butter (more raw garlic if you don't mind). They were spectacular – spicy enough to be exciting, but without distressing anyone. And the lime butter is a new favourite. 

We will definitely be exploring more of the book and next time I'm in London I'll be sure to check out one of Mr Ottolenghi's several restaurants – assuming I can get in!

These are just a sample of the delights of the book, so you might even consider buying it yourself. If you do, let me know what you make.

Let's keep enjoying the bounties of the vegetable patch as the weather brings so many things to ripeness. And happy new year!

Edible Gifts Ahoy

Christmas time, apparently. At our place we've decided no presents, which is fine with me. So I'm reminiscing about previous food presents and thought I would share some possibilities for you.

I've also been planning our Christmas day menu. Food being the reason for the season (the season of berries, jersey bennes, asparagus, stone fruit, outdoor eating and mosquitoes). We're starting with the Riverstone Kitchens' port rillettes, the recipe for which was in the November Cuisine magazine. It's essentially slowish cooked tasty pork, shredded and mixed with baby gherkins, parsley, capers, red onions and then preserved in its own cooking juices and fat. A big tub for Christmas nibbles are now sitting in my fridge and in a happy combo I was able to turn the remainder into gifts - two jars were presented last night to some lucky (I hope!) recipients.

Picture here:

Pork rillettes, packaged for giving

A few years ago we made flavoured vodka as gifts. Simply infuse vodka with fruit of your choice – we did some with lemon peel (don't include any white pith) and some with cherries (we were in Otago at the time). Infuse for a week or so, then strain and pour the now-infused and probably prettily-coloured vodka into a clean bottle. I've heard this works with chillis and I bet it works really well with mandarin. Wrap a nice ribbon around the bottle and deliver to a friend in need of alcoholic cheer.

Chutneys of various sorts are always popular. My grandmother used to make marmalade for everyone she'd ever met, which is a pretty good policy when you think about it.

Make homemade peanut or walnut or almond or almost-any-nut butter. Simply blend freshly roasted nuts (roast skinless nuts for about 14 minutes depending on size at 180C, watching them carefully as they burn quickly – and remember they will continue to cook after you take them out as they're high in oil) in a blender with some oil if required. Usually you need oil, but sometimes you don't. Salt to taste. If you can't get oil to match the particular nut, use peanut oil as it's virtually tasteless and goes with everything. I use approximately 1 and a half cup of nuts to about 1 tablespoon of oil, but add it cautiously in case you don't need all of it. Blend to your preferred consistency. If you want it crunchy, fish out some chunky chopped bits before continuing to blend smoother and stir those reserved pieces back in towards the end.

Deliver to a friend without allergies!

Biscuits are always popular. I like to make them to fit in a repurposed Pringles can (see picture). Today it was brandy snaps:

Melt 3T golden syrup, 85g butter and 1/3 c sugar and stir in ½ c flour and 1T ginger. Bake teaspoon measurements of the batter at 130C for about 15 minutes (or a bit more, but watch carefully) on a non-stick baking tray. Small teaspoon measurements come out about the right size to stack in a Pringles tin as a gift. You can also shape baskets around the bottom of an espresso cup while the snaps are warm or, if you make them bigger, around a large wooden spoon handle or similar to make the traditional tubes. Serve the baskets filled with fruit and cream if you're not giving them away. 

My chocolate puddle biscuits here work well at this (make sure they are really cool before stacking them). 

The other thing that would make a good present if I could bear to part with it is my newest fun find: Hakanoa Ginger Syrup.  Their site is here.  We've been making cold drinks with it with lime juice and soda water. It's also great in a cider cocktail, again with lime juice and ice and mint leaves. This is likely to be our Christmas day opener! It's also a lovely marinade for fish = equal parts ginger syrup, sake/mirin/sherry and light soy. Beautiful.

(note both half finished!)

We've been using Crooked Cider for those ginger cocktails, but also drinking it straight of an afternoon. It's a lovely, old fashioned, crisp, cloudy cider made with real cider apples in the Wairarapa and we're big fans. See here for contact details.  They've also made a pear cider, which is equally delicious.   Both are available in Wellington at Moore Wilson's, Glengarry's, Regional Wines and other places no doubt. Lars is often at the City Market in the Herd St building on Sunday mornings doing tastings and sales. Go see him, he's lovely.

Both the ginger syrup and the ciders would make great presents. If you're lucky, your giftee will share them with you!

Have a merry and safe summer silly season. Please eat fresh, local, seasonal ingredients and be careful on the roads, for my sake and yours. We're off to Oamaru and Moeraki for eating, so I'll report back once I've rolled back into town.

Celebratory All Black Cake (with Beer)

I discovered that being an All Black fan (which I have been for about 4 days now) can combine delightfully with baking! A few weeks ago I stumbled on Nigella Lawson's Guinness Chocolate Cake via Twitter and I liked the look of it. Then with the ABs doing pretty well, I thought that could be a fun celebratory cake for the World Cup Final. So I adapted Nigella's cake to make this!

Nigella uses white sugar in her cake, but I wanted to give this cake as much chance as possible of being black, so I used dark muscovado sugar. It turned out pretty well, but it did get a bit burned around the very edges, possibly because of the advanced caramel in the sugar. I just trimmed those bits off, turned the cake over so I had a nice flat bottom to decorate and no problem!

Although made with beer, it doesn't taste like beer, just a bit maltier than your average cake.

Here's the recipe.

All Black Beery Chocolate Cake

First butter (or spray with non-stick non-flavoured oil, which is what I do) and then line a 20-23cm cake tin with baking paper. Heat the oven to 180C.

Start with the following

• 250mL of porter beer – if this is to be an All Black celebratory cake, then best you use a porter from New Zealand. Likely brewers include Three Boys or Tuatara or Renaissance (who make a chocolate stout which I am sure it worth trying in this!)
• 250g unsalted butter

Heat the above together in a big saucepan until the butter is melted. Take it off the heat.

Whisk into the beer:

• 75g cocoa
• 400g dark muscovado sugar (presumably this works with white sugar (Nigella calls for caster), but I used dark)

In a separate bowl beat together

• 150mL sour cream
• 2 eggs
• 1 T vanilla essence

and then stir that into the beer mixture

Then whisk

• 275g of plain flour
• 2.5 t baking soda

into the mixture until all nicely mixed together.

Pour into the prepared cake tin and bake for 45 minutes to an hour until the skewer test shows it's cooked. For me the cake went from not cooked (gunk still stuck to the skewer) to cooked (nice clean skewer) quickly, so keep an eye on it towards the end. I also had to cover it with a bit of tin foil for the about 10 minutes or so of the cooking as the top was cooking faster than the middle.

Cool in tin on rack before turning out on its top (so that the bottom, which is the flat bit, is available for dressing).

I made a stencil out of the ABs' fern and logo with a stanley knife and some patience. Then I sprinkled icing sugar through the stencil just before serving. Be very careful as you remove the stencil. Serve with cream or yoghurt if you want (I didn't).

Enjoy! Preferable after a magnificent All Black victory. 

Congratulations to the 2011 All Blacks – the 6^th NZ rugby team to win a World Cup: 1987 (Men's, NZ), 1998 (Women's, Netherlands), 2002 (Women's, Spain), 2006 (Women's, Canada), 2010 (Women's, UK) and 2011 (Men's, NZ).

Now, time to focus on that election thingy and the rest of NZ culture!

Birthday Thai

Hard as it is to imagine, I get older every year. This year was no exception. By tradition, Pav and I gather our friends together to celebrate our birthdays (his is shortly before mine) in an interesting way. Last year Samoa (sort of), the year before lawn bowls, this year – Thai food and wine matching.

PhuThai Esarn is one of a handful of great Thai places in Wellington. We sorted out a varied set menu for 12 and asked our friend Rebecca Taylor who writes a wine column for the Capital Times (Wine Press) to think up some interesting wine matches for us. And she came up trumps. 

Grilled squid

Our chosen menu included a good mix of spice, heat and milder flavours. Consensus says that the top dishes were the Nam-tok Beef (grilled beef with fresh herbs and lime juice), the Larb Pork (pork salad, with lime juice, chilli and red onion) and the Kang Phed Ped Yang (red duck curry). That last being a sweet, creamy mix with pineapple and duck. The fresh spring rolls are a personal favourite of mine.

Being Thai, it's all a fine balance between spicy (chilli), salty (usually fish sauce), sweet (brown sugar or similar) and sour (lemons, limes, kaffir lime leaves...). Matching wine with that's a fun game as any one of those can fight with some wines. 

 The wines that Rebecca came up with were spot on. She texted tasting notes as she was running a bit late, so we did as instructed and started with the Black Estate Riesling 2010 as an aperitif. This is a Waipara wine from a family owned vineyard and was a smooth start to the night. But it came into its own when the entrees arrived. The fruitiness of the wine was fun to roll around the mouth with the various degrees of flavour and spice in the fish cakes, fresh spring rolls, deep fried goodies and, particularly, the Meuk Yang grilled squid with a chilli dressing. No nasty sauvignon-chilli clash here thank you very much. 

Red duck curry

As mains arrived we slid gently into the Seifried Würzer 2008, another South Island number – Nelson this time. Würzer is a rare German variety with only about 100 hectares planted around the world. Seifried says it has NZ's only Würzer plantings. The founders of Seifried have German heritage, so it's not outrageous that they might give this a go. The grape is a cross between Gewurztraminer and Muller-Thurgau (don't let that last put you off) and goes beautifully with the prickly heat and saltiness of Thai food, as we discovered. The tasting notes say elderflower, peach, apricot and sherbet flavours, which is fair enough. The sweetness which might be annoying in other food matches works wonderfully here. This was everyone's favourite wine of the evening.

The third bottle was a 12,000 Miles Pinot Noir 2010 from Gladstone out in the Wairarapa. I didn't get much of this as I had been enjoying the whites so much (and briefly forgetting my obligations to you, dear reader), but the little I did have was also well matched with the spice. That's interesting because I wouldn't think to order red wine with spicy food usually – I guess it's the spicy food = hot country = cooling white wines linkage in my head. Just goes to show that we should all check our assumptions every so often.

You too should check out PhuThai Esarn in the middle of Cambridge Tce, or its sister PhuThai Lanna on the corner of Vivian and Tory Sts. And take some risks in your wine matches. Hunt down a Würzer!

PhuThai Esarn

35-38 Cambridge Tce

Wellington

04 801 5006

www.phuthaiesarn.co.nz

Rugby, Pizza and Pig's Head

The Oval Ball Global Challenge continues unabated which means that I have now watched more rugby in 2 weeks that in probably the last 20 years (that's about 2 games). And what does rugby mean in terms of food? It means pizza and spicy nuts.

I've been experimenting with coatings for nuts and working with the base of 3 cups of nuts to 1 beaten egg, plus salt and spices. Our favourite so far is:

3 cups of raw mixed nuts

1 egg white (don't use a big one, otherwise this could end up LA omletty)

2 T chopped fresh rosemary

½ t freshly ground salt

½ t ground paprika (you can use more if you want to )

1 t brown sugar (I used dark muscovado, but it's not necessary)

Heat oven to 180 degrees. Beat the egg white until sloppily beaten. Stir remainder of ingredients except nuts in to the egg white. Then stir in the nuts. Spread nuts on a baking tray lined with baking paper and roast for 13 minutes or so until the egg white is dry and the nuts roasted (shake the nuts about half way through). Let them cool before serving so that the egg white and salt can go crispy. Don't worry, they don't taste sweet, the sugar just adds to the crunch and helps carry the spice.

Other combos include salt, finely grated lemon zest and chilli. And a Moroccan-inspired mix of salt, nutmeg, chilli, cumin and ground coriander seeds. Try your own and let me know if you hit on a good combo of your own.

Our pizza this week was ricotta spread on the base, proscuitto, canned artichokes, Kapiti's fresh mozzarella and basil (added after the pizza is cooked). I used Annabel Langbein's pizza base recipe from Smart Food for Busy People (an old favourite, with some great early 90s period crockery!). The pizza came out better off than the pizza 'stone' (which was actually an untreated tile that we bought for this very purpose).  Clearly it didn't like that 270 degrees of the oven this time. Coward!

Ex-pizza stone in 3 pieces!

New pizza stone ahoy!

And a couple of weeks ago, I made a pilgrimage to West Auckland to check out The Tasting Shed which an old TV colleague has opened with her husband in an old cider shed on the grounds of Cooper's Creek vineyard. It's a quicker than you imagine 20 minute drive down the spanking new extension to SH16. No more dog leg, just straight through to Kumeu.

You should take the road too and check out the great venue, food and wine on offer from Jo and Ganesh Raj.

The food options are on blackboards around the room and (as the name would suggest) are designed to be shared. Each that we had was a plate of well thought out and creative cooking. The rolled pig's head which was served with kohlrabi remoulade was a firm suggestion from Jo and she was spot on. That and the filo 'cigar' filled with duck confit served with orange salad and red cabbage were highlights of the savory selections. One small criticism: the fish had one too many flavours on it, but that's a small criticism of an otherwise excellent spread.

Our wine match (suggested by Jo, and again spot on) was the Coopers Creek Single Vinyard Arneis 2010 from Gisborne. Dessert was matched with Alvear Pedro Ximenez (that's the grape variety) 2008 from Montilla Moriles (in the Andalucia area of Spain). That's sherry country, but this wasn't a sherry but of a smokey, raisiny, caramely dessert wine. It was very easy to drink with both the Churros con Chocolate and the Brioche French Toast with honey and fig ice cream.

French Toast with Ice Cream and Honey

You should make the trip, either from Auckland, or if you're from further afield, next time you're in the 09. Get out of the city and try The Tasting Shed. Easier to get to than Parnell and way easier to park in than Ponsonby, and chances are the owner will serve you so you know it will be friendly.

Ceiling Lamps at The Tasting Shed

Lasting impressions:

food: surprising and delighting and to share

service: we were spoiled because we know the owner, but I reckon you'll be to

drive out: no hassle at all and parking's a dream

time to go: we were there at night, but it looks like it would be a great sunny day or summer's evening trip (they have an 'dog box' for private functions, which looks like a goodie for a loud laugh without disturbing your dinner neighbours)

also: there's a courtesy van, so you can be delivered home after imbibing
décor: upgrade to an old cider shed and it's sympathetic with a few sweet touches (lovely lamps on the ceiling and apple box shelving)

The Tasting Shed

609 State Highway 16

Kumeu

09 412 6454

www.thetastingshed.co.nz

Twelve go mad in Thorndon

Wellington on a Plate is a great festival of feasting and this year I gathered 11 of my dearest together for a truffle-infused fine dining experience at Le Canard in Thorndon. The Wellington on a Plate set menu of $55 for 3 courses and tea or coffee was the order of the day for about half of us, including me. The other half had the Menu Tradition at $65 for 3 courses, coffee and a glass of wine. Both were highly recommended after we indulged.

Both sets of diners started with Gratinee Duck Truffled Onion Soup. This was a luscious French onion soup made with what must have been duck stock and a touch of truffle. Gruyere croutons topped it off, as is traditional. The soft waft of the truffle lifted this peasant food to another plane. Sorry, no picture as we all woofed it down so fast!

After entree, the table diverged, though we shared around so everyone got to try the dishes. Those on the Tradition menu enjoyed confit duck with cepes (mushroom) sauce and what were described as rustic potatoes, which seemed to be cubed and fried until crisp. Pav reckons the potatoes were good, but prefers a smoother starch with duck prepared this way. Another at the table commented that the duck needed more pepper, but none was on the table. The skin of the duck was crispy though, which is a key test to my mind.

Boudin Blanc

The remainder of us were served a far more subtle dish of chicken boudin (white sausage), with chestnut and olive sauce and a kumara “mousseline” (which looks like a puree, frankly). Again, there was a truffle flavour to the boudin which we discovered was enhanced by breathing in through the nose across the sausage while it was in the mouth.

In France Boudin blanc is traditionally made with pork and milk. Its name contrasts with the more well known boudin noir, or blood pudding. I'm not sure if our boudin included milk, but it was certainly smooth and subtle and rewarded slow and curious eating.

Creme Brulee

Both desserts were perfect ways to end the meal: the largest crème brulee you've ever seen and a delicate selection of mousses. When you order crème brulee, you want as much brulee as possible. And brulee this delivered! A flat shallow pan filled with smooth, creamy custard and a wide crackling of brulee that everyone took great pleasure in smashing with their spoons. The murmurs of delight slowly spread along the table.

Eucalyptus mousse with chocolate and orange

My eucalyptus mousse was a winner. The promise of this dessert enticed me to the restaurant in the first place and it was a delight. Although not a common flavour, the mousse was an excellent vehicle for the subtlety of the tree gum. It was accompanied by chocolate, biscuit crumbs and a orange sauce. These elements all joined into a tour de force of dessert.

As you can tell, I was pretty happy with the night out. The service was welcoming and efficient and the food was gorgeous. This was my second visit to Le Canard, the first having been for my mum's birthday. That was a great evening too.

Lasting impressions:

service: feels family run and welcoming

food: Perigord/South-West French with a few twists and excellent execution

groups: encouraged and well handled. They have several set menus available for groups – including a degustation menu which kicks off with foie gras terrine, if that's your thing.

atmosphere: small, intimate and warm on a very cold night

parking: plenty in the evening. Less likely during the day I guess, unless you risk the supermarket!

deals: they're in the Entertainment Book – complimentary main course with another main course

Le Canard

10A Murphy St

Thorndon

Wellington

04 499 5252

I see that Le Canard has a “fairly-priced” lunch menu. It's the wrong side of town for me, but I might have to wag and go some time, anyway! Don't tell my boss.  

In other news: I saw Cowboys vs Aliens at the Roxy. The pre-show nibbles were excellent. The film less so. I also went to the Hog's Breath for steak. My mum always told me that if I have nothing nice to say, say nothing.

Chocolate Festival Round Up

I went choco-mad at the inaugural NZ Chocolate Festival last weekend.  Here are some of my personal highlights.

Super chocolate

A couple of the chocolate companies are now making what they say is chocolate that's even better for your then we all think chocolate is already. Schoc's offering is called Active and they tell me it's cold pressed and made in a vacuum to make sure that it retains as many of the flavonoids (a type of anti-oxidant) as possible. They say that you only need two squares a day to get your daily suggested anti-oxidant dosage. No explanation of what happens if you don't stop at 2 pieces. Schoc also suggest you eat it before exercise to increase the benefits of exercise. Gets the blood pumping apparently. They make it in both dark and milk and, surprisingly for me, I think the milk was better. To me the dark had an aftertaste I didn't like.

Bull Rush do a couple too called Fix72 and Fix Cacao Nib. They reckon theirs lower stress and have aphrodisiac properties. Even more reasons to eat chocolate! 

Bohemein

Bohemein has shops in Hataitai and Featherston St and their little, formed, filled chocolates are a delight to explore. Best one was the Balsamic Vinegar and Honey Ganache filled dark morsel of deliciousness. Then there's the wasabi cream. Go on, you know you want to! It was certainly worth gently elbowing the other chocolate lovers aside to try. Slightly makes you want sushi afterwards, which is a bit startling. I have other flavours at home I'm still working my way through.

Damsom Bomb

The Damson Collection had their damson chocolate in attendance. The woman at the stand advised to pop the whole thing in my mouth and break it up. It was a magnificent little bomb of damson, gin and chocolate. Get you hands on one at any cost!

Hot Antidote

With any festival, by a few hours in all I want is an antidote of some sort. For Toast Martinborough, it's beer. At the chocolate festival, turns out it's cheese. The lovely man from www.firedragonchillies.com was there with his chilli chocolate, cheese and sauces. I looooovvvveeeeee chilli chocolate and these were the spiciest I've ever had! Bhuty Dark Chocolate. Available online and at various specialist stores around the country, including the beloved Moore Wilson's. 

 Another antidote to chocolate overload is beer. Andy from Renaissance Brewing was giving tastes of his artisan beers. He's a charming fellow: “I wouldn't hurt you with Porter,” and maintains that taxes and water quality have been the greatest influence on beers styles. Avoiding the first, and coping with the second.

He hosted a chocolate and beer matching session late in the day and it was eye- and tastebud-opening. Andy says that his Craftsman chocolate porter matches gorgonzola; a claim I am prepared to test. As Andy says “try this at home”, just make sure your beer is cool, but not cold. As a general rule, darker chocolate with darker beer. Try the Stonecutter Scotch Ale, made with 9 different malts, with or without chocolate! Wooop.

This festival was described as inaugural, I hope that means there will be more!

Round the corner, out of sight = heavenly ribs

It's basically compulsory when traveling with me to seek out the local dish made by the local people in a tiny shop hidden out the back of a residential tower block.  Love it.  Luckily when we were in Tianjin, China recently, Banker Man was able to take us to just such a place.  He's a Kiwi who has lived in Tianjin, so knew the place well.  I promise this wasn't my idea, but it all turned out spiffingly anyway!  Twenty odd of us piled into this tiny establishment and ate whatever was placed in front of us.

The restaurant is called the Li Family Restaurant.  Here's the map so you can go there too:

 They Li family are famous amongst those who know for their pork ribs.  They are astonishing.  Ribs is probably the wrong word for Westerners as that would make us think of those spare ribs you have to gnaw at to get the meat off.  These are more like chops, cut about 2 inches (in old money) thick and meaty with it. 

The meat on these ribs was so soft that you could pull it off them with an elegant "grab and twist" chopstick movement.  The Li Family won't tell you how they make them – why would they?  But I'm guessing they're marinaded for a good day or so in a very sweet (brown sugar and molasses or treacle is my guess), lightly spiced (but not chilli or pepper, more like aniseed and coriander seeds, though it's really hard to tell!) mix. Then I'm surmising that they're cooking (with smoke?) over indirect heat in a moist environment in a barbeque equivalent for 6-12hours at a really low temperature (maybe around 100C?).  Basting every few hours.

Here's the kitchen!

No sign of the ribs here, unfortunately. 

I'm probably completely wrong about this method of this, of course.  But I'm still going to have a go at recreating it.  I've never seen anything like these ribs in NZ, but I would think that the southern Americans famous for their barbeque (Memphis, St Louis etc) might have.  I guess that the sweetness of the Li family's recipe would appeal to those Southerners – from what I've seen of their recipes with all the molasses and sugar and treacle and apple juice.  They go for moist, long, low cooking, often adjusting the temperature throughout the cooking to achieve their desired outcomes. 

Another pic, from a different angle (and a strangely romantic filter effect!):

Southern barbeque is where I'm going to start hunting for ways to replicate the dish.  I'll wait until after Pav's back, just in case I make so much I can't hide the disasters by myself!  My traveling colleague reckons they were so good he can still conjure up the taste, so he'll have to be a taste tester as well.  I'll let you know how I get on.  If it's any good. 

Photo credit: 2 photos courtesy Brett Tompkins

Chocolate Puddle Biscuits

Baking is one of the best things you can do with a Sunday, or indeed any day. Because Pav and I live alone, a whole batch of biscuits or cakes can be a challenge to eat before they expire. So sometimes my lucky work mates get to experience our culinary experiments.

 This one's not really an experiment as I've made it quite a lot. For me, it's one of the ones that I can make without a trip to the supermarket, as I usually have all the ingredients on hand. That's so long as there is butter. I'm not happy with the way that butter ages so fast in the fridge. It takes on a nasty dark yellow layer around the edge too quickly. Some say it's the crappy wax paper. I'm not sure as I've given up keeping it in the fridge and now we chop it into cubes and free flow freeze it. Not perfect, but better than throwing the butter out cos it's awful.

And we always have chocolate in the house. Dark Ghana from Whittaker's is our chocolate of preference. This recipe was originally passed on by a friend, but I've adapted (of course!):

Preheat oven to 175C and line trays with baking mats or baking paper. Two trays should be about right.

Beat 140g of softened butter and 175g of caster sugar until smooth. Then beat in one egg and half teaspoon of vanilla essence. Then sift in the bowl: 175g self-raising flour and 110g cocoa (yes, lots). Use a fork to work it into a firm dough. Keep going, it will be fine.

Make balls (about 20-24) in your palms.

 Arrange on baking tray (leave room for spreading) and bake for 15 minutes or so.

When you pull them out of the oven, use a teaspoon to make a dent in each biscuit. This is where the chocolate will go, so generosity is rewarded. Leave them to cool.

When the biscuits are cool, melt 85g dark chocolate, 1 tablespoon of golden syrup and 1 tablespoon of butter together. Best to do this in a double boiler – boiling water in a pot with a bowl resting on the rim of the pot. Don't let the bowl touch the water and don't let any steam get in the chocolate mixture. When the chocolate mixture is smooth, carefully drop teaspoons of it in to the dips in the biscuits.  Leave to set.

These can be adapted into the most impressive Afghan biscuits with the addition of a handful of cornflakes in the mixture and walnuts before the chocolate sets.  Over to you!

When I took these to work, even my boss broke his diet temporarily to try one. They're that good!  I hope you impress your friends and work mates too.

Banqueting in Beijing

I bet you've always wanted to know what the Mayor of Beijing serves for dinner. Well, now I am in a position to tell you! Pictures and all.

Recently, while in Beijing with the Mayor of Wellington on a Wellington business delegation, I was honoured to be invited (well, we all were, to be honest) to a banquet with the Mayor of Beijing. You might have heard of Chinese banquets, or you might not have.  Either way, they're something you should try and get in on at some point.  If only for the photo opportunities. I learned a few things:

• you can't possibly eat it all, it's just so plentiful. For those of you who eat with me, you'll know that's a hard lesson for me to learn.
• the Wellington Mayor's vegetarian bent saved us from several other possible scenarios (goose foot anyone?)
• they serve the wine in small portions so you can't get too rowdy in the short time that the event takes (they've met Kiwi business delegations before)
• when the host stands up to leave, it's all over, fetch your coat, outta there, even if you haven't finished
• “gan bei” is how you challenge someone to the bottom of the glass (apparently it translates as 'bottom's up') – and it's very polite to comply, and quite rude to refuse. Usually this is done with China's very own brand of firewater, but wine will work too.
• they sure know how to dress a table
• they actually serve Peking duck in Peking (well, Beijing actually)
• when toasting someone, which is polite to do, you should tap your glass rim below theirs to show them respect (acknowledging their higher status). This can sometimes result in 'races to the bottom' as each person tries to show more respect to the other.   Or, obviously, the opposite, as each tries to stamp their importance (more common among mates, no doubt).  Also after you have toasted, you tip your (likely empty) glass towards the other person as a full stop. 

The lovely 'top' table after the meal

Here are the photos of the courses in order. And the menu. Captions are as per the menu (with some explanations where I feel the need).

Assorted Cold Combination

Mixed Mushrooms Soup

Sauteed Prawns in Two Kinds of Style

Sauteed Asparagus

Braised Tofu in Brown Sauce

Beijing Roast Duck (after some assembly by me)

Noodles (not mentioned on menu)

Baked Cod with Cheese (a little like a fish pie, not sure if this is traditional Chinese, or a nod to our tastes)

Iced Pea Mash (you and I would probably call this soup, this was the most unfamiliar dish on this menu)

Dim Sum and Snack #1 (red bean paste and rice, sweet)

Dim Sum and Snack #2

Seasonal fruit platter (love a bit of dragon fruit, check out that colour!)

Note that each arrived within about 5 minutes of the previous one and sometimes I wasn't ready.  Too bad, the next dish just sat and waited for when I was ready.  It was magnificent.  I true sign of generous Chinese hospitality.

My grandfather was on the very first NZ trade delegation to China in 1973 or 74. He's not around any more for me to ask about the food, but I wonder if it was like this. No reason to assume it wasn't. But imagine how strange it looked to a bunch of Kiwis from 1970s NZ when there were barely restaurants, let alone 'ethnic' ones. I heard told recently that one of the others on that trip was carrying a fruit cake lovingly prepared by his wife in case he had nothing to eat in China.  Even then, no chance, I reckon.

I have more stories of Chinese food in China which I will post over the coming days/weeks. In the meantime, if the Mayor of a major Chinese city invites you to a banquet, accept!

Non-Vichy carrots and a pineapple party

Before my all day meeting, I took a quick wander around the Chaffers Market for some inspiration for dinner. I spied some lamb fillets from Wai-Ora Farm Lamb and wandered off happy. These guys bring lamb from their own farm to the market and I'm a fan. www.wai-orafarmlamb.co.nz

What to have with the lamb?  I love veges, but I've not been very adventurous with cooking them. I guess because of the quality of the vegetables available in NZ, they don't need to be cooked elaborately to make them taste good. A quick steam or flick around a wok to release the flavour or caramalise the edges is usually enough for me. But I've decided to become more adventurous with them. Let's see how that plays out, eh.

When I got home I gently rolled one of the lamb fillets in fresh thyme, oil, salt and pepper and let it sit at room temperature for about 20 minutes. And then focused on the veges. 

I decided on two separate vegetables to accompany the lamb: pea puree and honeyed carrots. To make pureed peas, you simply boil peas in water with mint leaves and when just cooked puree until preferred consistency is achieved. I like it pretty chunky so you can still tell they're peas. I love the colour too. You might need to add some of the boiling water or stock (whichever you have).

(This honeyed carrot recipe is slightly related to carrots a la Vichy, which are a bit more complicated to cook. But I do like the name – Vichy for the water they're supposed to be cooked with in France. The water is named after spa town Vichy where the water is naturally effervescent and an alleged cure-all. I don't have any French water lying around the house, so I just use quite salty water.)

Boil the sliced carrots in salty water until tender and then drain and return them to the dry pot over a very low heat with a little honey and butter. Roll around in melted honey and butter and serve.

The lamb is simply fried on a really hot pan for a couple of minutes each side (no additional oil required). Best to under cook fillet rather than risk over cooking.

Super supper. 

No leftovers with that dish, but I was lucky to have dessert from leftovers from the pineapple party a few days earlier.

I'm used to people I live with not liking pineapple. My father and sister both can't stand it. And neither can Pav. The only problem of course is that eating a whole pineapple by myself is a bit of a challenge. So last weekend, with Pav away, I threw a pineapple party.  Two pineapple paramours came around with wine and a savoury course as a prelude to the pineapple dessert which was the planned centrepiece.

It's probably the simplest dessert possible. Are you ready? Bake whole pineapple for 2 hours at 180C in a baking tray. Longer would be fine if the pineapple's big. Slice up and serve with cream, gingernuts (your favourite recipe or buy some), any juice that escaped from the pineapple during cooking and syrup.  I made the syrup with 2 cups of apple juice, 100g sugar and 1 tablespoon of finely diced ginger (hurrah, ginger) simmered for 15 minutes or so to reduce. I used fresh ginger, but I bet it would be grand with crystalised or preserved ginger instead. The pineapple paramours loved it and so did I reheated a few days later!

 Happy eating.

Some Like it Hot

It's been a week of chillis.

People know about my chilli obsession.  So much so, that I am often presented with them when there are too many in someone's garden. Suits me fine.  These from my friend's mum!

Chilli 1 - sausage
During a visit to the Harbourside Market beside Te Papa on Sunday, we purchased a piece of chilli sausage from the caravan of Milan Malivuk – branded Little Wolf (a translation of his surname). It's lovely dried spicy pork sausage which can be eaten as is or cooked in meals. So Pav stirred it into a stock, onion, chickpea and canned tomato soup. No need for other flavours as the sausage releases its spices (mainly paprika and garlic I think, but it's a secret of course) to flavour the entire soup. Marvelous, fuss-free eating. These are handmade, preservative-free and worth finding at the market, Moore Wilson's or the Mediterranean Food Warehouse.

Chilli 2 - sorbet
Then, after Pav went on tour, I went back to the Boys of Breaker Bay and made dessert again. This time poached pears and chocolate chilli sorbet (dairy free). The recipe as written doesn't contain chilli, but that's never stopped me.

Poaching pears is simple – peel fairly ripe pears, trim the bottom so the pears will sit up unaided, poach in flavoursome, preferably sweet, liquid (almost anything will do) until tender. You can scoop out the core of the pear from the bottom, but I never do. I'm not that posh.

I poached these beurre bosc pears in sugar and water and a pinch each of cinnamon, ginger (of course!) and chilli powder.

I love dark chocolate and chilli and so should you! Chilli and chocolate are double fun – the double aphrodisiac of the chocolate and the chilli justifies this combination alone. However, I believe that chilli is also an anti-inflammatory, a pain killer and an anti-depressant. Added to what we know about the revitalizing powers of chocolate, what more excuses do you need!?

This is the easiest 'ice' I've ever made. Sugar (1/3 cups brown, 1 and 2/3 cups white), water (4 cups), cocoa (2 cup) and vanilla (1 tablespoon). Melt the sugar in the water over heat, then add the cocoa and simmer for 2 minutes, stirring constantly. It thickens slightly. Add the vanilla and then chill for at least 2 hours. Then churn in your available method – machine or by hand (freeze in flat metal dish for 2 hours, break up firmly with whisk or fork, freeze for 2 hours, break up, repeat a few times). Churning in a machine produces a smoother mixture, but it's not so much better that you shouldn't do the other if you're an ice cream maker-free household. I added the chocolate/chilli nibs as the mix churned. A good half teaspoon ground up, I'd say.  See picture of chocolate/chilli nibs.

I served the pears with the sorbet and some of the left over syrup reduced by fast boiling. The more the sorbet melted, the more the essential oils of the chillis were released. Essentially it got more exciting as the temperature increased. As it should. Tee hee.

Chilli 3 - Larb Plaa
Then, a few days later, my chilli-enthusiast friend and I snuck into Ban Mai Thai at 111 Vivian St for a quick dinner. We only stayed for a main-course-sharing session, so I can't give you a full review, but suffice to say I've been about 4 times over the last few years and these guys never fail to deliver great tasting food for good prices.

This was no exception. We ordered two hot and spicy dishes and the outstanding one was the Larb Plaa, which was fish fillet with chilli, lemongrass, onion, kaffir lime leaves, galangal, lime juice and herbs. It was hot-spicy-hot, but layered with levels of flavour so that there was still something to roll around the tongue. The fish had been shredded and mixed with the other flavours to make the dish like a warm salad. The beef and pepper dish was also tasty, but the fish was the winner on the night.

Hot flavours for a cold mid-winter week. I wonder how I can get chillis into my breakfast next week?