Pretty vanilla. A tribute.

Last night I made gnocchi. Fine, you say. Nothing new there. Well, yes that’s true enough, I’ve done it a couple of times before. But I made gnocchi for the biggest gnocchi lover I know. What does this mean? It means pressure, that’s what.

Gnocchi with Mushrooms & Sage

Jules knows gnocchi. I would say that of the many many times we’ve eaten out together, she would have ordered gnocchi about 72% of the time. OK, I made that up, but the point is that if there was gnocchi on the menu, Jules would order it.

Pressure, I tell you.

It’s been a while since my last two forays into gnocchi, so I had to work at a snail’s pace to make sure I got things right. I simmered the potatoes slowly, checking every five minutes or so and finally they were done. I peeled them and mashed them. No mouli this time. I’m way bitter about my bad mouli purchase. I don’t want to talk about it OK? To the mash I added a sprinkling of nutmeg, an egg and some 00 flour and worked it into a dough ball. I had to keep adding flour until I got the consistency right, then divided it into three, rolled out three sausages on a floured surface, sliced them into 2.5cm gnocchis and popped them into the fridge to rest for 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, I heated some oil in a frying pan and added a selection of mushrooms – enoki, shitake and sliced buttons – quickly frying them before adding finely sliced garlic and chilli and a dash of water. I turned the heat right down and left them to simmer while I added the gnocchi to the boiling salted water and waited for it to float to the surface. While all this was going on, I fried some sage leaves in burnt butter, til crispy.

When it was time, I quickly tossed the cooked gnocchi with the mushrooms and some chopped parsley, then sprinkled with parmesan to serve.

I felt like I was being judged on MasterChef! I cowered under Jules’ gaze, waiting for her verdict.

Kidding! Jules just laughed at me then tucked straight in. It might not have been the best gnocchi she’s ever eaten, but I’m OK with that. However, I will just say that the overall meal was kinda dull. It looked good – good colours and textures - but there wasn’t enough flavour. The mushies were really boring. It’s partly my fault coz I should have tasted them along the way and added some salt, but if truth be told (and I can’t believe I’m saying this!), what would have improved it out of sight was a squeeze of lemon juice! Heaven help me, I’m turning into Jamie!

As for the title of this post? Two of my treasured followers once used the expression “pretty vanilla” to describe a meal that was dull. Boring. Nondescript. Unexciting. Vanilla. You geddit? And I promised that when the time was right, I would pay tribute to their hilarious and absolutely perfect expression, by using it in my blog. And last night’s dinner was exactly that: pretty vanilla, man.

Xx

When Sammy overstays his welcome, turn to layers.

You already know part one of using up the salmon leftovers. Salmon dip. Part two was an unplanned but happy coincidence – a recipe from the dry pasta chapter.

Fantastic Fish Lasagne

A few people thought the idea of a fish lasagne seemed pretty strange, but I quite liked it and once I’d read the recipe, decided it was actually a very good idea. I love lasagne, I love a fish pie, I love to have a use for leftovers and avoid wastage and I love to be pleasantly surprised. Tick to all of the above. This was basically a Sammy fish pie lasagne that blew me away.

I started by making a milky broth – sweating finely chopped carrot, celery, fennel and onion then adding the prawn heads from some whole green prawns, a small bundle of herbs (bay leaves and parsley) wrapped in bacon and a dash of wine, simmering until the prawn heads turned pink, then adding two cups of milk and bringing to the boil. As soon as it reached boiling point, I took the milky broth off the heat, plucked out the prawn heads (& any stray whiskers!) and the herby bacon parcel and then used it to make a béchamel sauce with butter and flour. So in the end I had creamy white sauce with small chunks of vegies.

I spread half this mixture in the bottom of a baking dish, covered it with a sprinkling of chopped prawn bits and chopped pieces of cod, plus a good amount of leftover salmon, some halved cherry tomatoes, chopped parsley and grated parmesan. Then a layer of lasagne sheets, more fish, prawns, tomato and parsley another layer of lasagne sheets then the remaining béchamel sauce and a sprinkling of parmesan.

Into the oven for 45 minutes, covered with foil for the first 30 and free to crisp up for the last 15, I have to admit I expected a small overflow disaster (my baking dish could really have been a little larger for this project!), but was surprised to find a perfectly contained and very creamy and colourful work of fishy art!




Served up with some rocket drizzled with balsamic glaze, I couldn’t fault this dish. Except for the fact that I had leftovers of the lasagne, on top of the already cumbersome leftovers from the Sammy luncheon on the weekend. Part three of the leftover challenge is fish cakes, which I’m planning to make tonight. Who knows, there could even be a part four…

Xx

Sammy & the Leftovers – the rent-a-crowd went crazy!

On Saturday, I cooked for Gemene. Well, not just for Gem, but the lunch was at her request and she requested a whole salmon.

Roast Salmon with Fennel, Parsley and Tomato

Floating Islands

So I started the day with a trip to the fish markets, to buy my friend Sammy the Salmon. And lets just say that the fish markets are a far superior and much less painful experience than a trip to the FSL. I am now planning a seafood weekend, very near to the end of the experiment, starting with a trip to the fish markets and ending with a giant seafood feast. Quite excited.

But back to Sammy – all 3.3kgs of him. Yep, that’s pretty much the smallest whole salmon you can get. And that feeds 10 people. And I only had five coming for lunch. So I was gearing up for the leftovers. What was unexpected was a last minute drop in numbers for lunch (for very good reason, mind you), bringing us down to three people. That’s an awful lot of leftovers. And one sad salmon. So I did what any self-respecting cook would do… I begged. I rang Ween and Evans, who had planned a low-key lunch for two and begged them to come to my lunch party. It went something like this: “PLEEEEAAAASE be my rent-a-crowd.” Subtle. But it worked. And we were back at five again.

For Sammy’s stuffing (is it weirding you out that I gave him a name yet?!!!) I tossed finely sliced fennel bulbs & lemons with roughly chopped tomatoes and parsley with olive oil and S&P then stuffed as much as I could into the salmon. The rest I placed in a baking and tray then sat Sammy on top.

And here he is:

Handsome huh? And very long. Too long for my oven in fact, so I had to curl him around and slide him in carefully.

Snug as a bug in a rug right?

And then 50 minutes later, Sammy came out looking splendid.

Well, except for the eye. Ick. And those creepy teeth. Eew. But other than that, splendid. And when I sliced him up into fillets to serve him to the girls, Sammy the Salmon continued to impress. Tender, juicy salmon, served with a salad of rocket, pear and parmesan and a glass of lovely savvy b. Delish.

Our carb-free lunch had been planned because of the dessert. Floating islands use more eggs than an Irish Breakfast. Not to mention the sugar, milk and cream. But I’m jumping ahead.

Floating Islands are poached snow eggs (or poached meringues) floating on a sea of creamy custard. As far as the desserts in Jamie go, this one seemed to me to be the hardest, but once that I really wanted to get right. So I started by making the custard. It’s Jamie’s standard custard recipe, that I’ve done twice before and both times managed to slightly scramble, so this time, I really wanted to create a lovely creamy custard. Oh the sweet success. Sort of… It didn’t scramble, it looked and tasted creamy and amazing, but it didn’t really thicken up. Not to worry. I’ve eaten runny custard before…

Next up was the spun sugar, that was to be used as a sweet garnish on the top of the islands. While the caster sugar and water were boiling away and turning to toffee, I oiled a sheet of baking paper and a rolling pin and once the toffee was down and slightly cooled and thickened, I used a fork to shake the toffee over the rolling pin, creating a nest of spider-webby, sparkly toffee. I was seriously excited that it worked without me ruining any saucepans or burning any fingers. I luckily remembered Jamie’s tip not to touch the toffee to test its thickness or sweetness. Well, only just…

And lastly the islands were a simple meringue mixture of egg whites and sugar, which I then poached in simmering full-cream milk. Weird, but simple and effective.

Fluffy white islands, floating on a creamy sea of yellow custard with a sparkly toffee nest on top. I actually took a photo of the page in the book, so here is a comparison:

Not too bad eh? And the girls loved them. Though not unlike last weekend with the doughnuts, floating islands are not something that should be eaten in haste or in servings of more than one! VERY rich is an understatement.

And just so you know, I used some of the leftover salmon to create a salmon dip to take on a Mother’s Day picnic.

And the rest of the meringue mixture to make meringues, which I took to work and left to be devoured in the office kitchen.

Xx

Slightly green and on the nose…

Another chapter down. I’ve been marking off chapters as I complete the final recipe in each and last night, as planned, I finished off the fresh pasta chapter.

Raviolini of Celeriac and Thyme

It was quite a good one to finish on – I had to make green pasta. GREEN pasta. So cool.

All I had to do was add some pureed steamed spinach to the first step of the pasta dough. Piece of cake.

Oh. Maybe not.

There was no mention of having to add a little more flour to the dough, to compensate for the added liquid, but I did anyway. Well, even my attempts to out-smart Jamie were not enough. Excess liquid there was and my usually superior pasta-making skills were put to the test. It was a gooey, green mess and it was sticking to my bench, to my hands, to the spoon I was using to scoop more flour. Kermit was right, it’s not easy being green.

But I got there in the end. A lovely ball of green silky pasta dough. Into the fridge it went. And while I made an attempt to de-slime my kitchen, I simmered the celeriac with thyme leaves, S&P and garlic and chilli, til soft. The smell of the celeriac was quite a surprise. It’s really earthy. Kind of like Jerusalem artichokes. It smelt like I was making mud pies.

Once the celeriac was cooked, I mashed it all up to a puree, ready to fill the raviolini.

Then I rolled my pasta out. Again, I hit a bit of a snag. But I guess, what would be the fun in making fresh pasta for the very last time (I really feel no need to ever make fresh pasta again, but I do need to be clear and say that I actually have enjoyed making it for the experiment, I just don’t feel the need to do it any more. It’s no longer a necessity, so to speak). So even though I had put silky smooth pasta dough into the fridge, half an hour later, it came out a little bit sticky. And even though I floured it up some more as I rolled it through the machine, I had a few tearing issues and a few holes that needed to be patched along the way. But thankfully, there were no explosions when the ravioli hit the water and that was all I was worried about. I would not have been pleased if I’d made it through the whole chapter only to have an explosion at the end.

I quickly sautéed the cooked raviolini in melted butter, then served up sprinkled with parmesan. The green pasta was good. The celeriac filling, not so much. Funnily enough, it was a little too earthy for my liking. But it’s done. And so is the homemade-fresh-pasta chapter of my life.

Xx

Getting cushy on a Sunday night.

I made the most of an early return from the farm on Sunday and decided to do some slow cooking.

The Best Stew with Potato & Rocket Pasta Cushions

Into my heavy bottomed casserole pot, I threw seasoned diced veal, let it brown lightly, then added diced carrot, chopped celery, red onion, garlic, thyme and rosemary. Once the veggies were softened, I added a tablespoon of flour, a tin of tomatoes and glass of white wine, stirred, put the lid on, turned it right down and left the stew to simmer for two and a bit hours.

Meanwhile I made the filling for the pasta cushions – mashed potato, finely chopped rocket, nutmeg, grated parmesan and lemon juice – and then the pasta. They were giant cushions, stuffed full with fluffy potato. And as strange as pasta and stew sounds as a combo, really the potato stuffing in the pasta cushions, was all that was needed to soak up the tender and tasty stew.

It was an ideal Sunday night dinner. Maybe not quite as simple as eggs on toast, but for a night of star spotting at the Logies, I think the extra effort was worth it!

Xx

PS – only one more fresh pasta recipe to go, so I’ve decided to do it this week and return the borrowed pasta-maker back to Sarah and Craig this weekend. As much as I love to give my guns a workout, I’ve made an informed choice to go back to buying my pasta at the end of the experiment!

By My Side - In Excess…

On the weekend, I headed out of town for a girls weekend at the farm. It had been in the diary for months and by the time we hit the road on Friday, we were all ready for some time out and fresh air. Not to mention a menu fit for a gaggle of ladies.

Incredible Baked Lamb Shanks

Braised Peas with Spring Onion and Lettuce

Doughnuts with Old English Spiced Sugar

I love lamb. I grew up on lamb. So I always enjoy a good session of lamb when I head to the farm. The lamb shanks recipe had been set aside for a farm weekend and when I mentioned it as an option to the girls, they jumped on the bandwagon. So that was easy. Pease and lamb. It just makes sense (well maybe not for Gem, but for the rest of us…). And the doughnuts. Well once the girls got word that they were on the menu, there was no going back…

After a day in the sunshine my “Farm-Sous-Chef” Tils and I headed into the kitchen. Starting with the doughnut dough, we mixed yeast with flour, caster sugar and warm milk, covered it and left it by the fire for 15 minutes, til it thickened and frothed. Then we added it to a mixture of flour, sugar, butter and lemon & orange zest. I got stuck in with my hands and used my Italian-Mama pasta-bred-guns to knead the crap out of it, til it was smooth and silky. It then sat in a bowl, covered with a damp cloth for about an hour, while we started on the shanks.

The best thing about the shank recipe was the simplicity of it – we were making shank parcels. No sautéing veggies, no slow cooking, so pots and pans, just lamb shank pockets. While Tils prepped the vegies – chopped leek, carrots & onion and whole garlic cloves – I made a herb butter (sage leaves and thyme, finely chopped and mixed with softened butter) and stuffed into the heart of the shanks. Then we made the parcels – sheets of foil topped with vegies, a shank, some more herbs, oil, S&P and a glug of white wine, all sealed up tightly like a sack, sat in a baking dish and popped in the oven for 2.5 hours.

Then before sitting down to a “friendly” game of Spicks & Specks, I rolled out the seriously risen dough. Did you know that you have to knock back dough? Nope? Me neither. It means I got to punch it. Yep, I gave that damn dough a good king hit and it really does knock the air out of it. Some people vent their anger in boxercise classes, I do it in the kitchen… And the other cool thing about this KO? The smell of the yeast. I’ve never used yeast before, so I was quite shocked at how powerful the smell was. Not a bad smell. Just a bread smell. So obviously bread smells mostly of yeast. Funny that. So after knocking it back and rolling it out, I cute circles (32 in total) of dough, spread them out on greased trays, covered them again with damp tea towels and left them to rise again.

As the time for shanks drew near, we did our mashed potatoes and our peas. Into hot butter, I stirred through a spoonful of plain flour, then chicken stock and finely chopped spring onions & lettuce and a bag of frozen peas. Left to simmer for 5 minutes and a squeeze of lemon later, they were possibly the best looking peas I’ve served up.

As were the shanks. Who doesn’t love a little prezzie on their plate? And that’s what we had. Lovely little parcels of juicy lamb shanks with creamy mash and peas.

So Jamie mentions in the blurb for the peas with lettuce recipe, that people who may turn their nose up at the idea of the lettuce, will be pleasantly surprised. Well, we had a room full or turned-up noses pre-dinner and Jamie was right – lettuce in peas is good! I’m not sure it was actually the lettuce, but overall the peas got a warm reception.

After a short break, it was time to doughy. Tils and I had quite a production line going – I made the holes in the middle, dropped them into the hot oil, Tils flipped them over and when done dropped them onto paper towel, then I tossed them through the spiced sugar (sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, all spice, vanilla seeds & lemon zest). We were in our own little world – a world like Wendy’s or Donut King. A world where Homer Simpson sometimes lives. And at the end of the production line, we presented a huge bowl (yes, 32 doughnuts is rather a lot) of pretty impressive doughnuts.

And so the challenge began. Could we eat them all? Well, goddamit, we gave it our best shot. Some of us fell short of our quota, but I won’t name names. Others smashed their doughnuts-eaten-in-one-sitting record. And one of us was heard to say they once ate a dozen doughnuts in one sitting…

So with the girls by my side, the following morning, we pushed through the pain of sore tummies and headed back to Sydney. It was worth every cramp and rumble.

Xx

PS – We didn’t finish the full 32.

PPS – I swear!!

Two Birds and a Dinner Party.

Last night I had a mid-week dinner party for five.

Grilled Spatchcocked Chicken with New Potatoes, Roast Asparagus and Herby Yoghurt

Party of Five = three boys two girls. I’d decided on my recipe, but for three boys, thought it was best to double up on the birds, so went with two chickens. I got the butcher to butterfly them (a.k.a spitchcock them) for me so I was good to go as soon as I got home.

I made the marinade – fresh marjoram leaves, dried oregano leaves, lemon juice, olive oil and S&P – slashed the fleshy parts of the chooks, poured it on, rubbed it in and left them to sit for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, the BBQ was heating up and once the chooks were suitably juiced, I put them on the barbie, skin side down and flattened out. It wasn’t long before the flames were raging – the chooks were on fire. From the barbie, I transferred them – charcoal skin-side up – into trays and into the oven (with half a lemon each) for 50 minutes.

Meanwhile, I boiled the potatoes, tossed them in butter, lemon juice and S&P, then pan fried the asparagus (no room in the oven for roasting I’m afraid) and tossed them in lemon and butter as well.

Served with a yoghurt and roasted lemon juice dressing, it was a very tender, very tasty charcoal chicken dinner.

The boys went back for seconds and then we followed it up with Ween’s creamy chocolate mousse. I know there are cookbooks out there, preaching about the kinds of meals that men like to eat, but surely a guy like Jamie knows best.

Xx