Thought for Food

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Fragrant Vegetable Korma

European food is all very nice, but after a while it can get quite samey. Granted, I've nowhere near travelled the full extent of our continent's culinary variety since I've started this blog. My lasagna plates are still laying idle in the cupboard - and I make a great lasagna, even if I do say so myself - and the paella rice has not been touched, either. I've been planning to do a traditional Czech pork roast with dumplings and cabbage and a Bavarian breakfast of Weißwürste with Brezn. (If you follow my link to Wikipedia and wonder what the brown stuff on the plate is, rest assured, Bavarians do not generally relieve themselves next to their food; the mucky mess is in fact very flavoursome whole grain mustard.) Rest assured, all these plans are still alive and well, but tonight I felt like going further afield. And after one look in the fridge, India seemed like the perfect place to go to - with a rich, creamy vegetable korma.

2 tbsp butter
1 large onion, chopped
4 whole cloves
4 cardamom pods, crushed
3 garlic cloves, crushed
4 cm piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated
1 to 1½ tsp ground coriander
¼ tsp ground allspice
1½ to 2 tsp ground cumin
½ to 1 tsp ground turmeric
1 to 1½ tsp mild chilli pepper or paprika
150 g green beans, trimmed and chopped
100 g carrots, sliced
2 medium potatoes, parboiled and chopped
100 g mushrooms, halved or quartered depending on size
2 tsp tomato purée
75 g ground almonds
250 ml vegetable stock
200 ml oz whipping cream
A good pinch garam masala
salt and pepper to taste
50g/2oz flaked almonds, toasted

Heat the butter in a large saucepan. Add the onion, cloves and cardamom pods. - If you want to save yourself the annoying job of having to fish for the spices at the end, get yourself a small bag made of heat-resistant netting and cook them in that. - Fry until the onions are beginning to brown.
Add the garlic and ginger and, after frying for 4 minutes, add all the remaining spices (except the garam masala). Stir around in the pan, allowing them to release their flavour.
Add the carrots, then, 1 minute later, the beans and mushrooms. Stir fry for another minute, then add the potatoes. Stir for a further minute.
Add the tomato purée, stock and cream and bring to a simmer. Cook for about 15 minutes until reduced to the consistency of thick cream. Taste and add seasoning if it needs it.
Finally, add the ground almonds and garam masala and cook for a further minute or two to let the flavours mix and the sauce thicken slightly more.
If you prefer chicken korma, substitute 4 chopped chicken breasts for the vegetables and chicken stock for the vegetable stock. Or you could be creative and try all kinds of other combinations. Prawns work quite well, as does fish (use fish stock in both cases). The latter should be fried separately and added to the sauce on the plate, otherwise it is bound to fall apart in the pan. Add a pinch of chilli powder or a dash of tabasco if you like it spicier. And for the perfect meal, serve with Pilau rice and Indian Chai.

Christine at 7:39 pm

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Monday, February 27, 2006

Buttered Brussel Tops & Beans 'n' Bacon

I should really improve my planning. It's only Tuesday and we're already out of useful dinner material. Is it only me or do you also occasionally find yourself standing in front of an open fridge full of what Lofty and I have come to term "stuff" - bits and pieces which could easily form part of a meal, but in the combination available aren't really good for anything?
My mum rarely has anything but stuff in her fridge, but she rarely eats anything but stuff: a bit of cheese, a few olives, some ham, the odd vegetable in olive oil, some stale bread... Strangely, some of Munich's more inventive inhabitants have declared this daily stuff munching a new trend in food. The labels change whenever the new issue of Elle Bistro or some such magazine, full of 'gourmet' recipes designed to be seen but not cooked, comes out. Antipasti, tapas, finger food, mezze and Brotzeit have all come and gone, but brought little change to people's eating habits. The individual fridge bits may vary a bit - Parma ham may, for example, be replaced by Serrano ham, hummous served in place of Obatzta or Ciabatta take over from baguette - but the general concept stays the same. Eating leftovers for dinner in a manner that you would never tell your friends about lest they scream out in hysterical bewilderment "You had goat cheese on rye bread accompanied by Chateauneuf-du-pape?!? How did you survive the experience?" (By the way, if you have to deal with such people occasionally and for some reason don't want to tell them to mind their own dinners, have a look at GourmetSleuth.com. After an hour there, you will sound like a connoisseur of all things culinary and you may even be able to convince them that your favourite convenience food is the newest trend that they have simply not picked up on yet.)
Fortunately for all of us, I have no need to lie about my inadequacies, nor to start food fads involving freezers and microwaves. Unfortunately, though, even i cannot survive without a freezer - although, coming to think of it, we did not have one for five years and managed fine. We even survived without a microwave or an oven and with only two hobs at my disposal. I simply used a Remoska, an electric baking device advertised by its maker as "the best kept secret in the Czech Republic", and roatated my pots on the stove a lot. I'd never go back to it now, but you can cook a perfect three course meal like that. Anyway, on Tuesday, I had to fall back on a few old tricks to make use of stuff without having to serve stale antipasti. There were some aging Brussel tops left, along with a handful of green beans, some potatoes, carrots, a few rashers of bacon... We also still had a quiche that I'd frozen a few week back, so the solution was quite clear: Quiche with mixed veg and buttered baby potatoes. And being as you have already got my recipe for quiche, I will only share the vegetable secrets with you today.

For the Brussel tops:
at least 4 handfuls of cleaned Brussel tops (remove the thick, hard stems, but don't worry too much about the thinner, softer ones; also, you can shred the leaves if you want to, but I prefer to leave them whole)
2 tbsp butter
4 tbsp hot water
salt to taste

In a large saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. When it is beginning to bubble, add the Brussel tops. Stir well to coat the leaves on all sides with butter, then add the water. Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover the pan with a lid and allow to cook for 5 to 7 minutes, until the Brussel tops are tender, but not soggy. Season to taste with salt.

For the carrots:
150 g carrots, cleaned (you may peel them if you feel you must, but do know that peeling will always kill a lot of the vitamins in your vegetables and is entirely unnecessary from a hygene/health point of view)
50 g butter
1 tsp sugar (you can omit this if you want, but it does help to emphasise the flavour of the carrots; just make sure that you don't accidentally add too much, lest you end up with desert)
a pinch of salt
parsley (optional; I rarely use it, but many British people seem to be fond of the combination)

Melt the butter in a medium saucepan over medium low heat. Cut the carrots into slices. Unlike what you may have been told before, there is no right or wrong thickness. Thinner is not better, it just needs less cooking time. Some people like to precook the carrots, but I think that this causes the vegetables to go soggy and flavourless, not to mention lose any vitamins left in them. Add the carrots to the melted butter and toss them very gently until they are evenly covered. Stir in the sugar, salt and parsley (if using), cover with a lid and cook gently for 5 to 7 minutes until carrots are tender, but maintain a bit of crunchiness. Reduce the heat if you feel that the butter might begin to brown.

For the green beans:
150 to 200 g green beans
2 to 3 rashers smoked streaky bacon, chopped
a few spoonfuls of dry white wine
salt to taste

Fry the bacon in a large pan over medium heat for 3 to 4 minutes or until the fat has come out and the remaining bits have gone crispy. Pour the fat off into a medium saucepan, add the beans and mix well. Reheat, then add the wine and season with a pinch of salt. Cover and cook gently for 5 to 10 minutes until the beans are tender, but not too soft. Add a few drops of water if the pan appears dry. Serve topped with the bacon bits.

Christine at 6:51 pm

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Sunday, February 26, 2006

Banana Bread and Potato Wedges

Back to work today, so the kitchen takes the back seat again. That's OK, though; I cooked more than I admitted yesterday. I had some bananas slowly going soft in the kitchen and really needed something to do with them. I was too cheap to throw them away, after all I had paid good money for them - Tesco's organic don't come cheap. They weren't exactly great to begin with - too starchy and definitely not flavoursome -, which is probably why they sat there long enough to go speckly. Normally, I don't mind eating very ripe bananas. In fact, I much prefer them to those cucumber-like green things they try to sell as bananas in this country. But a mouthful of moist starch just didn't seem appealing. It did, however, sound like the perfect base for a banana bread. Add a few cupboard staples and you end up with a yummy cake.
Banana bread was one of the first things I learnt to cook. I got the recipe in the US when I was there on a student exchange in 1992. Our local Kroger's in Cincinnati, Ohio, gave recipe cards away for free next to the ingredients you might need to make them. I don't know exactly when or even why I picked it up (although I suspect the answer to the latter question is, sadly, that it was free and that I had been taught to always look out for a bargain), but it was one of the more important steps in my life towards becoming a foodie. It was amazingly easy and, apart from the baking time, quick to make, and what was even better, while it needed no special ingredients, it was totally exotic in Germany and always helped me score coolness points when I took one to school. It was then that I learned that if you can cook, you'll never be short of friends. But before I bore you all to death, here's the recipe (just a note to my non-American readers, a cup is equal to 250 ml):
2 cups all purpose flour
1 cup sugar
2 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup bananas (the softer the better), peeled and mashed
1/3 cup oil (use something without a flavour of its own such as sunflower oil)
¼ cup milk
110 g chocolate chips
½ cup walnuts, chopped

Pre-heat the oven to 175 degrees Celsius. Mix all dry ingredients except the chocolate and walnuts together.
In a separate bowl, combine the eggs, bananas, oil and milk, then add to the flour mixture. When they're all thoroughly mixed, add the chocolate chips and walnuts. Do not overdo the stirring, this will only make the chocolate and nuts sink to the bottom.
Spoon the mixture into a non-stick loaf tin, spread it out evenly and bake it for 55 minutes. The loaf is done when a skewer pushed into its middle comes out clean. Cool for about 10 minutes on a wire rack, before removing from the tin.
But that was yesterday. Today, after work, I had no time, or rather no energy, for baking or even large cooking projects left. Hmm... I've just realised that I make my job sound like the worst thing a human being can possibly do to earn a living. It is not. I'm not a mineworker or cockle picker. I don't even have to work physically. I'm one of those people who stare into a computer screen all day and still grow tired. Believe me, I have more than once considered leaving all this behind and starting an apprenticeship in a restaurant, but something has always kept me from doing it; my parents' expectations of me going to university; the lack of opportunity to work in a kitchen during school; and now that I'm done studying, the need to earn as much money as possible to pay off the debts from my student years. But one day, I'm hoping to be free enough to try it, and probably learn that chopping vegetables 8 hours a day is no more fun that typing. But until then, I will keep dreaming and I will continue to love to cook. Tonight I needed something simple to do though. I still had a couple of nice, big Portabella mushrooms left, so I opted for the old favourite of stuffed mushrooms with potato wedges. And being as you've already got the mushroom recipe, I decided to let you in on my secret to using up slowly aging waxy spuds. This recipe is adaptable for any amount of people, and, by adjusting the seasoning, you can give it a number of different characters, from Mexican to Indian.
4 medium floury potatoes
5 to 6 tbsp oil
herbs and spices to taste (I most often use a mix of paprika, garlic powder, thyme, oregano and a pinch of chilli; you can also add a bit of ginger and cumin for an Asian touch or use fresh herbs for a more Italian feel)

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Wash and dry the potatoes, then cut into thick wedges. Put the oil in a baking dish and slightly heat in the oven. When the oil is warm and runny, add the potatoes. Stir well to cover with oil, then sprinkle with the spices. Stir again to make sure the spices are well soaked in oil and the potatoes are evenly coated. Bake for 45 to 50 minutes until the potatoes are tender and crispy. Turn the wedges only once or twice during that time. Serve as a side dish or as a snack accompanied by sour cream dip or sweet chilli sauce.

Christine at 5:17 pm

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Saturday, February 25, 2006

Lentil Casserole with Salami and Sausages

I must be incredibly strange. I have a fridgeful of fresh food from my tour around town yesterday. Something I completely forgot to mention yesterday was an early morning (at least by my standards) trip to Liston's. I really wanted to get cheese, but ended up with lentils, barlotti beans, cream and free range bacon and sausages.
You may have noticed from my earlier posts that there is very little meat in our diet. I used to be a vegetarian. Not because I didn't want to eat animals, but because I felt that the way our supposedly modern farm industry was operating was destroying the quality of our food and slowly but surely taking the planet down with it. And because at the time I was living in a city where we had no access to small farmers who might have sold me good quality food and the organic movement in Germany was limited to some whole grain pasta munching loonies so there was no nice food to be found in any of their shops. So I decided that the only way I could reduce the impact I would have on the environment was to stop eating the stuff with the worst eco balance: meat. But times have changed since then and good quality, locally produced organic meat is now readily available, especially in Ireland. Accordingly, since we've moved here, I occasionally eat meat again. One of the things I absolutely love are sausages. So when I found those great-looking sausages from Caheberg Free Range Pork at Liston's there was no stopping me. They come highly recommended and, if you can believe their website, have impeccable credentials. And after having tasted their traditional sausages, I can't wait to get my hands on some of their other products.
At first I was going to do bangers and mash again, but Lofty and I were ready for something new. We've just had a tad too much northern European winter food of late. Looking through my cookbooks, I found a recipe for a lentil and sausage casserole that sounded like just the thing for a lazy Sunday night. Apart from the salami, which could in theory be substituted with bacon, liquid smoke or even vegetarian sausages or even left out if you have none of the above at home, the ingredients are all cupboard staples, so no worries about having to do special shopping trips. The dish virtually cooks itself, so I could even continue playing poker without losing all my chips because I wasn't paying attention. And the best thing about it all is that it looks and tastes as if you'd spent hour preparing it. It's got a very north Italian feel about it, which would probably even convince my snobbish mother that lentils are a trendy thing to eat. I've made a few modifications to the original, so I do not feel the least bit guilty posting it here and claiming credit for it.
1 medium onion, cut in half and each half cut into rings
4 tbsp olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, sliced
125 ml red wine
100 g good quality hard salami, peeled and chopped into bite-sized chunks
8 to 10 fresh sausages
1 can of chopped tomatoes
125 ml water
100 g green or brown lentils (I used puy lentils with excellent results)
2 to 3 tbsp brown sugar
1 tsp rosemary, finely chopped
1 tsp thyme leaves
3 bay leaves
enough stock granules for 500 ml of liquid

Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a casserole dish with a lid or a heavy-bottomed saucepan. Add the onions and cook over medium low heat until tender. Now add the garlic, stir, and then add the salami and bay leaves. Fry until the salami is slightly darkened and fragrant.
Heat the remaining oil in a frying pan, add the sausages and fry until coloured on the outside. Don't worry about cooking them through.
Add the wine to the casserole dish and bring to the boil. Then add the tomatoes, the water and the lentils. Bring to the boil, then add the stock granules, sugar, rosemary and thyme. Stir well. Now put the sausages into the casserole and cover with the lid. Leave to simmer until the lentils are cooked, about 30 minutes. Stir occasionally to prevent the lentils from sticking to the bottom of the pan, but don't overdo the stirring.
Serve with nice crusty white bread.

Christine at 5:55 pm

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Thursday, February 23, 2006

Scallops in Garlic Butter

This morning, I had the dubious pleasure of getting up early enough to catch the traders on Meath Street just after they opened. Shopping-wise this is great. The oversized, underworked bleach-blondes and their overfed, underwashed children tend to not be out before noon, the shopkeepers are still relaxed and chatty (they're always incredibly friendly, but when it gets busy there's just no time for a bit of a natter) and the goods are still fresh and abundant. By early afternoon you generally have to fight your way through crowds of people, navigating ice-cream wielding kids and old ladies with shopping trolleys, only to find that most of the things you came out for are either gone or well squashed.
Despite all these clear advantages of morning time shopping, I tend to go after my midday poker tournament. For one, I am not prepared to give up my weekend lay-in. Secondly, if I do things too early, I generally mess them up. I'm just not a morning person. But today I had no choice. Months ago - in October - we bought a bed from Argos. It was relatively cheap, but it wasn't their cheapest, so we expected it to be half decent. Unfortunately, it was sold out and we had to wait for the warehouse to be restocked. The catalogue had claimed that items are generally delivered within two weeks. The lady at the till had extended that to four, answering our question as to why with a smile and a shrug. - By now we have learned that questioning delays, no, let me rephrase, questioning anything in Ireland is an exercise in futility. Life is slow. There is no question why. - After six weeks we received a phone call from an Argos representative apologising that we had still not got our bed, but they were still waiting for the shipment themselves. The bed finally arrived a week before Christmas -- all busted up and ready for the rubbish. They refused to refund part of the money and instead offered to replace the bed. I don't know why we agreed; we should have known it would take forever. It did. It was late January before the deliveryman finally came back round -- with half (!?!) a busted bed. Needless to say, we told him to take that pile of firewood back to where he'd found it and demanded our money back. I'd rather pay twice the price and have a good bed delivered when I need it. And in the future, I really don't want to have anything to do with Argos anymore. The two lamps we got from them lasted two months before they were ready for the skip, our CD shelves are bending under the weight of the CDs they were designed to hold and the few kitchen utensils we bought there were rubbish before I even unwrapped them. Anyway, the reason I'm telling you all this is that Argos finally got round to picking up their busted bed on Saturday morning. So we were up long before our usual weekend time of 10 a.m. and I had all the time in the world to shop.
I headed to Meath Street first to see what's on offer at the fish store. It must have been my lucky day; he had very nice looking Dublin bay prawns as well as Scallops in the shell for 50 cents apiece. Obviously, I couldn't resist and bought eight, something I regretted greatly. They were so good, we should have had at least a dozen! But I got a lemon sole to go with them and together they made a yummy fish dinner.
The lady at temple bar market was almost sold out again. This is not surprising considering that she grows all her own crops and February is not exactly the most productive month in a farmer's calendar. I really have to make a point of going out earlier to the market. The problem there is that I would either miss my morning poker tourney or all the good bargains on Meath Street. But after weeks of having nothing but a number of different kinds of cabbage, I'm starting to believe that it would be worth it.
Today I got lucky, though. She still had enough of the right vegetables to complement the fish - some little red-skinned potatoes, some spinach, some Brussel tops and lots of baby carrots. I particularly love those. They're all crunchy and sweet, great to stew with a knob of butter and a pinch of sugar to bring out their flavour. But that's a recipe for another day.
Tonight we had a proper prawn cocktail followed by the scallops. There isn't much to say about the starter that I haven't already said a few days ago. The only thing is that Dublin bay prawns can be a bit watery. If this is the case, fry them with a bit of olive oil in a large, shallow pan over high heat until they are beginning to crisp up. You can add a bit of garlic, but don't overdo it. Their flavour is quite subtle and can easily be drowned out by too many extras.
The same cannot be said about good quality scallops. I'm not saying that they have a strong flavour, but somehow they were made to be smothered in heaps of garlic butter. It doesn't matter how much of the smelly stuff you pour on them, as long as they're cooked right, they will taste divine.
8 to 10 large scallops with the roe (get more scallops if you agree with Gordon Ramsey that the roe is for cat food)
3 to 4 tbsp olive oil
a big knob of butter, about 50 g
4 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
a few parsley leaves, chopped (optional)
coarse sea salt and lemon wedges to serve

To cook the scallops, heat the oil in a large, shallow frying pan until it starts to sizzle. Place the scallops in the hot pan. Do not move, shake or otherwise disturb them for at least one minute. They need this time to form a sticky crust on the underside, about 1 to 1½ minutes.
Once coloured with deep tinges on their border, turn them over and continue to cook for a further 1-1½ minutes. The scallops will be cooked medium-rare. Season each with a few granules of sea salt, and place to one side.
Make sure the pan is still hot, then add the butter. It should start to melt immediately. When it starts to foam add the garlic and parsley. Swirl around the pan once or twice, then pour it over the scallops. Serve with the lemon wedges.

The scallops are lovely on their own accompanied by nothing more than crusty grilled ciabatta bread to soak up the sticky yumminess of the garlic butter and the caramelised scallop juice and maybe a side salad. But as I said, we had it as part of a whole fish dinner, with the pan fried sole, roast baby potatoes, spinach and grilled green garlic.

Christine at 9:28 pm

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Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Bangers and Mash

Days like this call for comfort food and can you think of anything more comforting than a nice big plateful of creamy mashed potatoes, topped with steaming hot sausages and smothered in thick onion gravy? No, nor could I. I added the beans to give the illusion of a healthy dinner, but really, just bangers and mash is perfect.
Here's how you get there:
8 to 10 good quality sausages
For the mash:
3 medium potatoes, peeled and halved
60 g butter
a bit of milk
salt and pepper to taste
For the gravy:
30 g butter
1 large onion, halved and then sliced into rings
1 tbsp flour
75 ml Madeira or Masala
250 ml chicken stock
A dash of Worcestershire sauce

Start by making the gravy. Melt the butter in a small saucepan. Add the sliced onions and cook for 3 to 5 minutes, or until they begin to soften. Reduce the heat, cover and continue to cook until truly golden and soft.
Stir in the flour and continue to cook for another minute or two until it has lightly browned. Now pour in the liquids. Season to taste with salt, pepper and Worcester sauce. Bring to the boil and allow to bubble gently for about fifteen minutes.
While the onions are cooking, bring the potatoes to the boil in enough salt water to just cover them. Cover and boil until soft, about 20 minutes.
For the bangers, place a large frying pan over a moderate-to-high heat, and add the sausages to the pan, to brown on both sides, for 3 to 4 minutes each. Reduce the heat and continue to cook until cooked all the way through.
Finish the mash by draining the potatoes and placing them back into the pan. Add the butter and season to taste, then mash until smooth adding a few drops of milk if needed.

Christine at 10:19 pm

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Monday, February 20, 2006

Seafood Day

I just realised that for the past few days, I have not really been keeping up on the recipes here. In the hope that someone has actually missed my original dedication to good, fresh food in my latest posts, I will make up for all the Auflauf and restaurant food of the past week.
After a very long weekend of not really worrying too much about dinners I have reawoken to the world of the culinary arts. Inspired by my new Italian cookbook, I opted for spaghetti with smoked salmon, spinach and toasted pine nuts. But I also had those lovely organic avocados left which had reached the perfect degree of ripeness by now. There was no incorporating them in the main course. I had to go for starters. It's been a while since we had a two-course dinner, but what better day to start than one when I'm feeling full of love for food and have a fridge full of yummy food?
The meal began with prawns on a bed of sliced avocado drizzled with homemade cocktail sauce. I admit I cheated on the prawns. Normally, I get a pound of fresh Dublin bay prawns from my local fishmonger. Unfortunately, during the week I get off work too late to catch him (no pun intended) before he closes. Instead, I had to put the prawns I always keep in the freezer for emergency stir frys to the test. I must say I was pleasantly surprised. When defrosted slowly at room temperature they do not turn all mush and watery. And while they were a far cry from freshly cooked prawns, they weren't entirely flavourless either. Their taste was distinctly noticeable even alongside the avocado and cocktail sauce. But for environmental as much as taste reasons, I do advise against using large amounts of industrially farmed or caught prawns. They are bad for the oceans, they are a way of exploiting workers in poor countries, they are unhappy creatures and they are just not half as nice. Need I say more?
For the cocktail sauce:
3 heaped tbsp thick, good quality mayonnaise
1 tbsp tomato ketchup
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
salt and pepper to taste
a few drops of Tabasco sauce (optional)
To serve:
2 organic avocados (I don't recommend organic to be a nuisance here. Spending the extra money is well worth it with avocados, as the mass-produced ones tend to be entirely flavourless. I also tend to go for the ones with the hard, dark skin, rather than the lighter green, soft-skinned ones, but I leave that aspect up to you and your green grocer to decide.)
at least 2 handfuls of prawns
2 tbsp chopped chives

To make the cocktail sauce, whisk together the mayonnaise and tomato ketchup. To ensure the right consistency, it's important that the mayonnaise is nice and thick. Add one more spoonful of tomato ketchup if you prefer a sweeter flavour. Add the Worcestershire sauce and the Tabasco and season to taste with the salt and pepper.
Cut the avocados in half lengthways and remove the stones. If you are one of these people (that I used to be before I watched my first cookery program on TV) who always pick at the stone with a fork, the tip of a vegetable knife or any other pointed object, bruising the avo in the process, stabbing the life out of the stone (and possibly your hand) and, depending on the ripeness of the fruit (yes, avocados are fruit), either getting covered in slime or slinging the stone across the kitchen in an uncontrolled flight, try this: Take a large, heavy knife and whack the stone briefly, but forcefully with the blade. If you have done it correctly, the knife should be well stuck in the stone, allowing you to tug it out easily and flip it into the bin. Now peel and slice the avocado halves. This might sound like unnecessary work now, but I find it makes for a nicer eating experience, especially if you have used soft-skinned or slightly unripe avocados.
To assemble, arrange the avocado slices on a plate, top with the prawns and drizzle (or, in our case smother) with cocktail sauce. Sprinkle with the chives. Serve immediately to prevent the avocado from discolouring.
The pasta, as posh as it sounds, was equally easy to prepare. I probably would have shied away from two courses during the week, had I thought them complicated to make. While I was still in Prague, where I had a huge kitchen with all the modern conveniences - by which I do not mean a microwave, but such things as a blender and a good, brand new oven - and all the time in the world to use it, we never had less than two courses for dinner, and three were not uncommon. I love making deserts, cakes and puddings, but when I come home from work, I'm just too worn out and it is way too late to start cooking and baking for hours. But pasta is always a quick and fun dish to cook and if you use good quality ingredients, it is virtually impossible to mess up.
I had the perfect ingredients for a perfect follow-up to the seafood starter: Some organic spinach and two packets of organic Irish smoked salmon. Along with a few toasted pine nuts and some lemon juice, this was the perfect dinner.
150 g dried spaghetti (or enough fresh pasta for two people)
salt
2 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
1 clove garlic
200 to 250 g spinach leaves, washed
200 to 250 g smoked salmon, sliced (I recommend organic or wild salmon. Ordinary farmed salmon, besides being incredibly bad for the environment and raised in the cruellest of conditions, is too greasy to be nice and too full of artificial colours to be healthy.)
50 g pine nuts
a dash of lemon juice
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
a pinch of nutmeg
1 vegetable stock cube
a knob of butter
black pepper to taste
freshly grated Parmesan (forget the pre-grated stuff you can get in a bag, that's just plain nasty!)

Bring a large pan of water to the boil. Add a generous pinch of salt. Do not add oil, as this does not just keep the spaghetti from sticking together, but also prevents the sauce from sticking to them. Cook the spaghetti for 10-12 minutes, or according to the packet instructions. Remove from the heat and drain.
In the meantime, heat a large pan over medium high heat. Add the pine nuts and toast until lightly browned and fragrant. Do not leave the pan unattended; the nuts will burn quite quickly. Remove from the pan and set aside.
Heat the oil in the pan and gently sauté the onion until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and thyme and continue frying for a minute. Add the spinach and gently fry until it collapses, about 4 to 5 minutes. Add a few spoonfuls of hot water if the pan appears dry, but do not overdo it.
When the spinach is cooked, add the lemon juice, stir well, and then crumble in the vegetable stock. Stir in the cooked spaghetti, nutmeg, butter and pine nuts. Toss together.
Remove from the heat and season to taste with pepper. To serve, divide the spaghetti between two plates, arrange the salmon slices over them and sprinkle with freshly grated Parmesan.

Christine at 10:31 pm

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Sunday, February 19, 2006

Quick'n Easy Vegetable Bake

Wednesday was a totally uneventful day. Nothing memorable happened, no new ideas popped into my head, no new people appeared in my life. And no good food was to be found anywhere in our kitchen.
I threw together a quick vegetable bake, nothing special, not even worthy of its own recipe. However, if you have one of those days, but do not want to resort to microwave meals or takeout, try compiling what Germans call an "Auflauf". All you need is a bunch of food that feels like it might go good together, such as a mix of vegetables, some leftover meat (mince or sausage bits are always good for Auflauf), tinned tuna or salmon, fresh fish filet or soy. Add a chopped onion, some garlic, herbs, some mashed potatoes and some grated cheese and you're laughing. OK, not quite. Here's a quick intro to nice Auflauf:
First, you'll need to chop the ingredients into bite-sized pieces. Then preheat the oven to 200 degrees Celsius.
Heat some oil, butter or drippings in a large frying pan over medium heat. Fry the onion until translucent. Then add the garlic and any herbs and spices. (A Mediterranean mix of oregano, basil, rosemary and thyme is always a winning combination. Or if you've still got some herbes de provence kicking about somewhere that you have no clue what else to do with, here's your solution. Obviously, other flavours, such as ready-made curry powder or Moroccan spices, work just as well, albeit with different results.) Continue frying for another minute. Now add your other ingredients in the following order: Things that will release moisture, such as fish or mushrooms, want to go first, followed by the hardest vegetables, such as carrots or broccoli. Then comes any uncooked meat. And last, but not least, we have soft vegetables, such as spinach, and cooked or canned meat or fish. Continue frying for a few minutes.
When the vegetables are beginning to soften, add some liquid. If you are using wine, add that first and let it boil down a bit. Then add a small amount of stock. Alternatively, you can add cream, a mixture of milk and strongly flavoured soft cheese (blue cheese works well), mascarpone or Philadelphia cheese, or even a can of condensed soup (such as Campbell's cream of broccoli). Allow to thicken and season to taste with salt and pepper or stock granules.
Put the vegetable/meat mix in an ovenproof dish, top with mashed potatoes and sprinkle with grated cheese. Bake in the oven until the veg mix is heated through and nicely thickened, and the cheese is browned.

Christine at 7:52 pm

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Lemon Roast Chicken on Wild Mushrooms

The weather was miserable again on Tuesday; thick clouds hung in the sky making the whole day feel like a long November evening and heavy rain came pouring down most of the day. Even if I had not arrived back here wet from cycling, it was the kind of day that called for heart-warming comfort food. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. A nice thick stew would have been perfect, but unfortunately I just didn't have the right ingredients. We opted for the next best thing, a roast chicken dinner. I like chicken. I know it's not a very exciting meat, nor is it anything special, but if it is cooked right, a good free-range chicken and some cupboard staples can be all I need to prepare the perfect dinner for any occasion. Chicken can do any nationality from American to Zambian and go with any accompaniment, hot or cold. It can be prepared quickly and easily or turned into an intricate dish, worthy of a master chef.
Tonight I opted for the simplicity of the former, unfortunately combined with the work effort of the latter and made some lemon roast chicken on a bed of wild mushrooms. You have to be careful not to overdo the lemon, but if you get the seasoning right, the combination of soft, juicy mushrooms and a crispy roast chicken skin is always a winner.
For the chicken:
2 corn-fed or organic chicken pieces (such as legs and thighs or breasts)
½ lemon, quartered
½ onion, sliced lengthways
4 cloves of garlic, unpeeled and lightly crushed
a few springs each of thyme and rosemary (alternatively a bit of dried thyme and a few crushed dried rosemary needles)
4 bay leaves
4 tbsp olive oil
salt to taste
For the sauce:
100 ml medium sherry (Madeira, port or Marsala wine are also OK, but not as good)
250 ml chicken stock
2 tbsp butter
½ tsp fresh thyme leaves
½ tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
salt and freshly ground black pepper
To serve:
25 g butter
250 g wild mushrooms (obviously ordinary button mushrooms can be used, but you might want to add some dried wild mushrooms for the flavour)
salt
4 good handfuls of baby kale or savoy cabbage, roughly chopped
a pinch of nutmeg
mashed potatoes for 2
(I also added a carrot and sweetcorn mix, but that was more because it needed to go)

Pre-heat the oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Heat two tablespoons of the oil in a roasting tin in the oven. Place the chicken pieces, skin side down, in the tin and roast for 10 minutes. Turn the chicken over, tuck the lemon, onion, garlic, thyme, rosemary and bay leaves in around it and continue to roast for another 10 minutes. Lower the oven temperature to 180 degrees Celsius, and roast for another 40 minutes or until the skin is crispy and the juices run clear.
In the meantime, heat the remaining oil in a large frying pan over a high heat, add the mushrooms and fry for 3-4 minutes. Season to taste with salt, then tip onto a roasting tray (unless you are using an ovenproof pan, in which case you can just set them aside). Remove the chicken from the oven, and place the meat and the garlic in the roasting tray with the mushrooms. Return to the oven for another 10 minutes. Discard the lemon pieces, herbs and any burnt onions.
To make the sauce, pour the fat from the roasting pan and deglaze the pan with Madeira or port. Tip the juices into a saucepan and add the stock. Boil until reduced by half. When you are ready to serve, whisk in the butter and herbs. Season to taste.
At the same time, get the kale/cabbage ready. Heat a frying pan until hot. Add butter and the cabbage. Stir fry until wilted season with salt, pepper and nutmeg.
I know, in the picture at the top it looks rather like the mess they try to sell you as a Sunday roast in bad pubs, but believe me, it tasted a whole lot better.

Christine at 4:42 pm

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Where not to go for Chinese Food

As I have promised a few posts back, I finally went to check out the much-praised Chinese restaurant in Dublin's unofficial Chinatown. Our German visitors had spent the whole day in Belfast and came back ready for a good meal, and Lofty and I are always up for a bit of an experiment. So we headed off to the city centre looking for Moore Lane, which on the map looked like a small side street off Parnell. In reality it was a tiny alley leading to the loading bays and back entrances of the shops on Moore Street. The road was full of potholes and there was a strong smell of Asian food in the air. It was dark and the air was damp, as if it should start raining any minute. Walking along the poorly lit road past dark warehouses and boarded up shops, I felt a bit like an extra in a low-budget horror movie. Our friend must have felt the same. Despite repeated reassurances that Dublin is not New York City, her unease was apparent in her every move. Her fear was heightened further by the fact that the address we were looking for was exactly half way between two bigger roads, taking us as far as possible away from the lights of the surrounding shops and pubs and from other people. And by the fact that, when we finally got there, the shutters were drawn and the place was deserted. So here we were, in the dark, in an unknown environment, with no clue of where to go to find some food. So much for restaurant reviews in Totally Dublin. Their information was entirely wrong, which to me has killed their credibility. This is a shame because I found their critiques well written and quite informative -- before I tried to follow their advice that is.
Anyway, we opted for a different Chinese restaurant in the area, Yami in a small street off Moore Street. As is to be expected if you search your restaurant by location rather than reputation, the meal was OK, but nothing special. The menu was more like that of your average European takeout than that of a real Chinese restaurant, but I'm sure that had something to do with the fact that they had separate menus for Chinese speakers. We definitely got the tourist version catering to European tastes and eating habits. For example, in China, starters do not really exist. You just order a load of stuff, which is put in the middle of the table and everyone just helps themselves. This menu on the other hand had a clearly distinct starters section. And because we all like little Asian nibblies (although I prefer proper Dim Sum), we decided to live up to the stereotype and have something up front. Ordering starters was a difficult affair, though, because rather than telling us what they had, the waitress waited for us to order something, ran off to the kitchen to ask if they indeed had it and then returned with the verdict, which in most cases was negative. Prawn toast, prawns wrapped in spring roll pastry, radish soup with fish dumplings and the mixed platter were all sold out.
We finally settled for crab and sweetcorn soup, sushi rolls (I know what you're thinking now - Sushi in a Chinese restaurant? - and I can assure you, it wasn't my choice), and a quarter "Peking duck", which was basically crispy duck with pancakes. The soup was very much like the ones you get at the take out: Fake crabmeat and canned corn in a very starchy broth. It wasn't awful, but they went a bit too heavy on the pepper. I didn't try the sushi, which consisted of a plate of very uncaringly assembled California rolls, but was pleasantly surprised to see that they came with a knob of wasabi in the accompanying bowl of soy sauce, albeit without gari. The overall verdict was that they were OK, but I'm not convinced. In fact, I'm not sure that you can even find what I would call good sushi in Dublin. Lofty and I love sushi, but have so far not had any here. No one has yet recommended a good restaurant and we would rather go without than settle for inferior quality. Especially since you can get really nice sushi elsewhere. (I promise a good overview of Japanese places in Munich, when I'm there in March.) But back to our Chinese meal. My crispy duck was cold, but surprisingly flavoursome. It came pre-cut with the usual trimmings - finely shredded cucumber and spring onions, thin pancakes and plum sauce - and was just what the doctor ordered. Yum!
I was also quite happy that my starter arrived last, but my main course was first allowing me to mix and match. Lofty and I both had "Sizzling mixed seafood". He originally wanted the house special chow mein, which is, for lack of a better word, his signature dish. Whenever we eat in a new Asian restaurant, Lofty orders fried noodles. Thus, over the years he has grown into something of a collector of noodle experiences. In fact, I bet Lofty has tried fried noodles in more restaurants across more countries than anyone else; England, the USA, Germany, South Africa, the Czech Republic, Ireland, Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Vietnamese and more... the list is long. On the one hand, Lofty really likes noodles of all kinds, but they also are a good gauge for the quality of an eatery. Simple, yet easy to get wrong, fried noodles are a good indicator of a cook's abilities. Lofty has developed a sort of 'noodle scale' on which he judges his food, from 13, which is named after the best ones he has had so far, dish number 13 at our local takeout in Prague, to zero, the worst ones, at the FAS canteen here in Dublin.
Unfortunately for him, Yami had run out of noodles! What does that say about the place on the noodle scale? I dread to think. The seafood was quite nice, though. It really came sizzling hot, in a small pan, overflowing with different colours and shapes. There was crab stick (fake crabmeat found in a lot of Asian food; strangely enough, I quite like it at times), little curled up slices of squid that had intricate patterns cut into them and king prawns, broccoli, bamboo shoots, onions, water chestnuts and two types of Asian mushrooms. The sauce was lightly flavoured with oyster sauce and had a nice, non-sticky consistency. The vegetables were fried to perfection, not too crispy, but far from sloppy and the seafood was lovely. The squid was tender, the shrimp firm. The flavours and textures complemented each other perfectly and the whole dish went really well with the fried rice we had ordered. If you are not looking for authenticity, this dish is as close to really good Chinese food as I have got in Dublin.
Our German friends weren't quite as happy with their dinners as we were, though. One of them had ordered squid in oyster sauce, rather than the mixed seafood, and said that the dish was somewhat lacking. They finished it down to the last bit of onion, though, so it cannot have been that bad. The other dish they were sharing was king prawns kung po, which looked, smelled and tasted lovely. A generous helping of king prawns, stir fried with spring onions, peanuts and two types of chillies and served in a bright red chilli sauce. The sauce had a subtle bite to it, but the spiciness was far from overpowering. The individual flavours were not killed off by a nasty burn on your tongue, as is sometimes the case with chilli dishes. One of our friends struggled a bit, but she did admit to not being a big fan of spicy food. They also regretted having ordered steamed rather than fried rice, although it was probably the better accompaniment for the prawns.
Overall, I would say that dinner at Yami was a good, but not outstanding experience. The food was OK but nothing special, the tea was forgettable and I'm not sure what to make of the fact that the dishes on the Chinese speakers' tables looked decidedly more interesting. I think we'll have to keep searching for that really nice Chinese place in Dublin. Oh well, at least we've learned where not to go for Chinese food.

Christine at 11:42 am

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Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Lotsa Talk and Nothing to Eat

A while has passed again since I've been back here and I apologise sincerely. I have a good excuse though. I've had friends over from Germany and spent most of Sunday and all of the evenings with them. And together we spent quite a bit of time eating, exchanging recipes and talking about food, so there will be plenty of news during the coming days.
Sunday was still fairly news-free, though. We started the day at the small cafe inside the Irish Film Institute (IFI). I had a chocolate Danish and a coffee, which were nice, but nothing to write home about. The price is worth a mention, though. Together the two came to €3.80, which, considering the location, atmosphere and quality, is actually pretty good. I don't know if they offer coffee to go, but if you are in a hurry and need an easy breakfast in the city centre, do grab a Danish there. At €1.80 it is only marginally more expensive than Centra and, although I was hesitant at first because they looked a bit dry, I can safely say that it is about ten times as nice. The ladies I was with were in more a lunch kind of mood, so they opted for fish & chips and meatballs. I did not taste either and can therefore not really comment, but both looked quite good and the fish & chips in particular smelled rather inviting. Rather than having been battered, it was covered in a fragrant herb and bread crumb mix, and came accompanied by nice-looking thick, hand-cut chips and tartar sauce. The meatballs were served on a bed of ramen noodles and smothered in a very yummy-looking sticky sauce, which looked a bit like a mix of soy sauce, mild vinegar, brown sugar and chilli flakes, cooked down to the gooey glaze, which adds that certain something to many Asian-inspired dishes. Judging by my fellow diners' response, it tasted as good as it looked, for when they were finished the plates were completely empty. On the other hand, neither dish seemed to really stand out, because during the ensuing discussion about the quality and prices in Dublin restaurants they all agreed that while the value for money here was OK, none would actively seek the place out were it not the only affordable option in the area. I am still unsure that this is a good enough reason to dine somewhere, though, so I will wait with an endorsement of the IFI until I have personally tasted their food. Also, I'm still hopeful that the claim is not true in the first place. I know that Temple Bar is quite expensive, but there has to be a good, reasonable-priced restaurant somewhere in the city centre. I will certainly keep my eyes out for it and would appreciate any tips you might have for me.
Our next stop was Books Upstairs, a small bookshop on Dame Street opposite Trinity College. Their focus is very much on literature and poetry as well as what might be considered special-interest books, such as gay and feminist literature, psychology, and philosophy. Good bargains can be had here, although the hunter of cookbooks and all things food related is most likely to leave empty-handed. I actually found something, a book that I am almost embarrassed to admit owning: Jamie's Italy by Jamie Oliver. My mum really likes Jamie Oliver, something that acted as a bit of a deterrent to me from the start. She tends to follow trends, often paying scant attention to the things she declares to be the best thing since sliced bread and quickly forgets when something new comes around. In any case, after having seen a lot about Jamie Oliver on TV, not a single show he was hosting, I decided to check out his Italian Escape on Channel 4 - and was in for a nice surprise. Unlike his advertisements for Sainsbury's or his school dinners appeal, this show seemed to have no patronising undertone and was not centred on the idea of quick, easy food. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but I think I'm beyond needing to be told to eat my veg and go light on the meat, let alone have the existence of herbs and spices pointed out to me. This time, Jamie Oliver was more than a role model for pubescent teenagers; he was a great guide to Italian cuisine as well as to the people's eating habits and attitudes to food. So when I saw his book at the shop, I could not help but start reading. Before long, I was no longer prepared to just put the book down and leave. Luckily, it was marked down substantially and I am now the slightly embarrassed owner of a Jamie Oliver cookbook.
The others went to finish off the day with a jazz session at George Pub on George's Street. I wasn't up to it anymore, though. Instead, I headed home and browsed my new book. I must admit I'm still quite impressed. At close look there is still this undertone that reminds me of my parents when I was five and refusing to eat what's good for me. But I don't really mind it, because, firstly, he is right. Most Brits as well as most Irish people, Americans and Germans I know are absolutely clueless when it comes to healthy eating and many of them will readily eat things that make me wonder if they have any taste buds at all. Secondly, unlike the other two books of his that I had looked at before, most of the recipes in Jamie's Italy are just as interesting for the advanced cook as they are for the beginner because they combine simplicity in preparation with a certain kind of ... how shall I put it? ... sophistication, which can be found in a lot of southern European cooking, even that of everyday food from rural areas. In short, it's reasonably easy to cook, but still tastes of something when it's done.

Christine at 5:51 pm

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Sunday, February 12, 2006

Stuffed Mushrooms on a Rainy Day

As far as food is concerned, Saturdays are the highlight of my week, and yesterday was no different. In fact, it was extra nice because I could convince Lofty to go shopping with me. I like food shopping with company. When I am on my own, I tend to spend a lot of time staring at things without really noticing them and in the end often buy stuff I didn't really want, just because it seemed like a good idea at the time. When other people are with me, we tend to talk about the food in front of us, about our likes and dislikes and about recipe ideas, and I find this exchange of ideas very inspiring. Even if I don't get any direct input on what to cook on any given day, it's useful (not to mention fun) because it gets me thinking - a bit like reading cookbooks.
We started yesterday's culinary walk at Subway on Wexford Street. I know, I know, fast food is bad for our planet as well as for small cafes and is generally made from low-quality ingredients. But I love tuna salad sandwiches with chillies and I have yet to find a place that makes them as tasty as Subway. And every once in a while everyone is allowed to have a bit of what they like, even if it's not the best of the best for all parties concerned. Sometimes, selfishness can be a virtue. Food that makes you smile can't be all bad for you.
The next stop was Liston's. I was going to do some extensive shopping there - some cheese, a bit of ham and/or salami and maybe some dried fruit - but then I realised that I was not going to have enough opportunity to eat the stuff while it's fresh. I love what Bavarians call a Brotzeit. What is literally translated as "bread time", started life as a simple meal of bread with cheese, cold meats and vegetables, but can these days include anything from smoked Scottish salmon to Spanish cheese with quince jelly. Erlaubt ist, was gefaellt ("anything you like goes"). And on the weekend, I very much like to build my own single-plate-Brotzeit for lunch, made-up of a selection of cheeses, fruit and the occasional bit of meat or fish. And Liston's have the most wonderful Brotzeit ingredients in Dublin. Great smelly continental cheese (along with the quince jelly I like so much) as well as good, strongly flavoured cheddar, tender pate that melts in your mouth, aromatic salami (if you can, try the garlic salami, it is divine!) and the best pastrami east of New York City. But I wasn't going to be home a lot this weekend and to me, Brotzeit, Ploughman's and the like are distinct daytime meals. Somehow, I need sunlight to enjoy them. Once the sun has gone down, it is time for something warm. So we just bought a Coffee and Walnut cake - which is very morish there - and moved on.
The next stop was, predictably, Temple Bar Market. I needed to stock up on organic vegetables, and there's no better place in Dublin (city centre that is) for that. We got our usual favourites from the lady in the corner: Brussels tops, potatoes and baby carrots. And a quick lesson on growing herbs on your windowsil and a promise that, when they are in season in April, she would sell potted herbs to replace my slowly dying ones. I really wanted to buy some other things from her, a few green leaves to make a salad to accompany the leftover quiche perhaps, but when we got there at 3 o'clock, she was nearly sold out. I'm not surprised. All her vegetables are sown, grown and harvested by herself and her daughter, and you can taste the difference. And if you think that only rich people can afford that kind of luxury food, think again. Some of her stuff is in fact cheaper than Tesco's. The same cannot be said about Dennis, who owns the big fruit & veg stall in the middle. His stuff is quite pricey, but still very much worth it. He's got a great selection of organic produce from all over the place, so if you fancy a tropical fruit salad, he's the man to see. We took advantage of his great offer on organic Avocados - 3 for €1 - and added spinach, kale, walnuts, green beans, trompetes de morts and two huge open mushrooms to our growing food selection. Looks like stuffed mushrooms for dinner, dosn't it?
On the way home, the clouds quickly thickened, so we did not hang about in Meath Street for long. Just grabbed a few more odd bits and pieces - some new potatoes, a few onions, herbs and some chicken - and hurried home. We made it just before the skies opened and rain began pouring down, in my opinion the perfect weather for spending the evening at home, cooking and reading recipes. So this is exactly what I did with the following (quite yummy result):
2 large open-cap mushrooms, such as portobella, cleaned
½ onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
3 handfuls baby spinach, rinsed
4 to 5 good quality sausages of your choice (I tend to go for plain chicken and adjust the seasoning myself with thyme, rosemary and sherry) or minced meat
a pinch of ground nutmeg
50 g cheese, grated (or 4 slices of mozzarella)
salt and pepper to taste
2 to 3 tbsp oil for frying

Preheat the oven to 220 degrees Celsius. Place the mushrooms onto a non-stick baking tray.
Heat the oil in a large frying pan, add the onions and fry over medium heat until golden, about 5 to 7 minutes. In the meantime, remove the stem from the mushrooms and hollow out the caps. Take care not to puncture them in the process. Chop all the mushroom bits very finely and set aside. When the onion is done, add the garlic and mushrooms. Continue frying until the mushrooms have released all their water, about 7 to 10 minutes.
Skin the sausages and finely chop the filling. When the mushrooms are cooked, add the sausage meat to the pan. Stir briefly, then allow to cook undisturbed for about 5 minutes. Stir again and brown the other side. If you are using unseasoned sausages or mince, add all dry seasonings at the same time as the meat. When the sausage meat is cooked, add any wet ingredients, such as wine or sherry, followed by the spinach. Allow the spinach to collapse and all liquid to evaporate. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
Fill the mushrooms with the sausage-mushroom-mixture and arrange the grated cheese/mozzarella slices on top.
Roast in the oven for 8-10 minutes, or until the cheese is golden brown and bubbling. Serve imediately (for best results with potato wedges and creamy baked leeks).

Christine at 4:43 pm

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Saturday, February 11, 2006

Vegetable and Salmon Quiche

We had a very nice day yesterday. Cold and crisp, but sunny most of the time. It's good to see a bit of sunshine for a change. And with the first crocus coming out and the trees beginning to bloom it is decidedly looking like springtime out there. I decided to complement this overall atmosphere with a springtime sort of dinner. One of our favourite warm weather dishes used to be vegetable quiche, which, to keep it light, was made with puff pastry rather than short crust pastry, served with buttered new potatoes and a side salad. This was much easier to make in Prague, though, because our local supermarket sold these great rolled-up sheets of fresh puff pastry. There was no need to defrost or to try to stick these useless little squares you get when you buy frozen pastry together in a dish. It was an easy dinner and almost foolproof. Unfortunately, I've been unable to find fresh pastry here in Dublin (but I'm always open for suggestions), so I have reverted back to making quiche with homemade short crust pastry. This takes longer and the result is heavier, but in temperatures like these it is probably just as good. Whatever you do, make sure you don't combine a pastry shell with big holes or gaps in it with a leaky cake tin. The egg mixture would drain out of the quiche and you'd end up with grilled vegetables in a pastry shell and a burnt mess on the bottom of the oven.
For a full-sized quiche, which is enough to feed four to six people, you will need
For the pastry:
175 g flour, plus extra for dusting if you are using anything but a silicon cake pan
a pinch of salt
75 g butter at room temperature (but no warmer and make sure it is not too soft), plus extra for greasing
(alternatively use ready made pastry)
For the filling:
lots of vegetables, chopped into bite-size pieces (As per usual with my recipes, you can use anything you like and have available. This time, we had spinach, onion, corn, peas, mushrooms and sliced tomatoes.)
3 to 4 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
a few spoonfuls of olive oil for frying the vegetables
1 tsp fresh rosemary, chopped (or ½ tsp dried)
2 tsp fresh thyme, chopped (or 1 tsp dried)
1 ½ tsp fresh oregano, chopped (or 1 tsp dried)
2 tbsp fresh chives, chopped
a pinch of ground nutmeg
a vegetable oxo cube (alternatively enough vegetable stock granules or crumbly stock cube for 200 ml fluid)
300 to 400 g smoked salmon
3 eggs
1/2 cup whipping cream
1/2 cup grated parmesan or old gouda (or any other dry, hard cheese)
200 g ground soft cheese (such as hard mozzarella, Gouda or Swiss cheese) or one large ball of soft mozzarella, sliced
salt and pepper to taste
baking paper and pulses or weights for blind baking

To make the pastry, sift the flour together with a pinch of salt in a large bowl. Rub in the butter until the result resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Make sure to work quickly, so the butter does not heat up too much. Add enough cold water to make the mixture come together to form a firm dough. Shape into a ball, cover and rest it in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.

Roll out the pastry on a light floured surface and line a 22 cm well-buttered ovenproof dish. Don't trim the edges of the pastry yet. Chill again.
Preheat the oven to 190 degrees Celsius.
When the oven is hot, remove the pastry from the fridge, line the inside with baking paper and then fill it with pulses or weights. Place on a baking tray and bake blind for 20 minutes. Remove the beans and paper and return to the oven for another five minutes to cook the base. Reduce the temperature of the oven to 160 Celsius.

In the meantime pre-cook the vegetables. The main reason for this is to evaporate the water from them to prevent the quiche from going mushy, but harder vegetables, such as broccoli and carrots, need this cooking time to go soft as well. Heat the oil in a large frying pan. Add the onions (and/or leeks) and sweat lightly for a few minutes. When they are beginning to soften, add the garlic, herbs and mushrooms. When they are starting to release their moisture, add any hard vegetables. After a few minutes it is time to add any leaves and when they begin to collapse, add the softer vegetables that will not release too much moisture (such as sugar snaps, bean sprouts or corn). Finally, add the nutmeg and crumbled oxo cube and stir well to mix. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
Sprinkle the parmesan into the pastry base and add the sliced tomatoes, if you are using them. Evenly distribute the cooked vegetables over the top. In a bowl, combine the eggs with the cream. Pour over the vegetables. Top with a layer of smoked salmon and trim the edges of the pastry. Cover with grated cheese or sliced mozzarella.
Bake for 30 to 40 minutes or until the egg mixture is set and the cheese is browned. Remove from the oven and allow to cool and set further. Serve with boiled potatoes and/or salad or baked beans.

Christine at 10:12 pm

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My Interpretation of Chow Mein

Thursday was another uneventful day. In fact, it was so not worth mentioning that I was originally not going to post about it. But then I decided that dinner, despite being just as non-special as the rest of the day, might be of interest to others trying to cook a health, tasty meal without too much effort. And before you hit that back-button thinking I have gone raving mad advertising Chinese food as simple and easy to make, do give me a chance to explain. What I am about to advertise is not so much fried noodles the Chinese way as everything you can find in the fridge, seasoned with things any well-stocked kitchen contains anyway. For real Chinese food, I suggest eating out. Unless you have a gas stove, lots of practice in Asian cooking techniques, a kitchen big enough to store a number of cooking utensils you won't use very often and live in a city where authentic ingredients are available, there is no way of recreating the aroma and flavour of a good Chinese meal.
I have yet to try any of the numerous Chinese restaurants in Dublin's unofficial Chinatown around Parnell Street. I have, however, read a very good-sounding review of Hong Quing Ting in Moore Lane. I've got every intention of giving them a try and I promise a full review as soon as I do. To me, Chinese food is intrinsically linked with London. The sheer number of Chinese living there makes the choice of restaurants, cuisines and ingredients endless. Coming from relatively monocultural Munich, I was struck by the China Town's incredible foreign-ness during my first visit more than fifteen years ago, and think this experience has stuck with me. Every time I visit, I head down to Chinatown at least once or twice to absorb the atmosphere, stock up on ingredients and Asian kitsch and, invariably, to visit one of the many restaurants there. For anyone interested in doing the same, let me utter a word of caution: There seem to be two types of restaurants here; nice ones catering mainly to Asians and very, very bad ones trying to attract tourists who shy away from Chinese menus and dishes they have never heard of. Resist the urge to go for the familiar and stay well clear of the all-you-can eat buffet in a basement restaurant (the name of which I am grateful to have forgotten). I highly recommend The Golden Palace on Gerrard Street and Laureate Chinese Restaurant on Shaftsbury Avenue. Both have predominantly Asian patrons, something an ignorant European like me takes as a good indication of authenticity. But whatever the case may be, they both impressed with the variety of their menu and the great taste of their dishes. Both do good Dim Sum and Laureate is the place to go if you want a culinary adventure without travelling outside Europe.
Dinner last Thursday, however, was anything but adventurous. As I said, my goal was for it to be simple and tasty. And this is how I tried to achieve it:
enough long thin noodles for two people (obviously, Chinese egg noodles are ideal, but if I run out of them I use spaghetti with equally tasty results)
everything you like in a chow mein (Sorry about being so vague, but to me, fried noodles are a typical leftover-user-upper; they are nice with just about anything.) This time I used:
a knob of ginger, about 3 cm (or 3/4 tsp powdered ginger)
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
¼ tsp cumin
2 tbsp soy sauce (more to taste)
2 tbsp lime juice (or lemon juice or sherry, depending on your taste)
3 tbsp oil for frying (go for a neutral flavour here, such as sunflower of peanut oil; do not use olive oil)

Cook the noodles according to package instructions, drain and set aside. There is a myth that freshly cooked pasta should be refreshed in cold water, but this is totally wrong.
If you rinse your noodles, you wash off all the starch that helps the sauce stick to them. Just live with the fact that they're sticking together for now; they will detangle later in the wok.
Heat the oil in a wok or large frying pan. When it is
hot add the ginger and garlic, stir once or twice and then add the hardest of the vegetables. In my case those were the carrots and sugar snaps, which take about 5 to 7 minutes stir frying in total. Continue adding ingredients according to their cooking time, so that in the end they will all be cooked, but still crisp, at the same time. In my case the mushrooms came next at about 4 to 5 minutes, then the bean sprouts and spinach (2 minutes) and the Coley (1 minute).
Finally, add the noodles, cumin, lime juice and soy sauce and stir until well mixed. Allow to heat through thoroughly. Season to taste with more soy sauce.

And with this dinner, even our ordinary Thursday evening turned out to be quite nice. Enjoy!

Christine at 6:10 pm

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Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Roast Chicken with Herbs and Lime

I found a shoe today. Yes, a man's shoe. By the side of the road. It was a nice-looking shoe at that. Obviously, I didn't stop to inspect it closely, but cycling past it looked like a faily new Timberland boot. That got me thinking... How do you just lose a shoe? Is it that someone was driving down the road when his foot started itching, so he took his boot of to scratch his foot and accidentally threw it out of the window? Or was it someone walking, whose bootlace became untied so he accidentally stepped out of his shoe? Or was it two blokes fighting and one decided to throw a shoe at the other? And whatever the case was, did the owner not notice that one leg suddenly shrunk by an inch and one foot turned cold and wet? Was it a case of "Strange, these new boots. One is really nice and comfy, but the other one doesn't really stand up to the job?" And when he finally did notice, why did he not retrieve the missing boot? Did he not think he might need it at some later date? "Never mind, mate. I got another one." I suppose what you find in the streets of a city says a lot about its inhabitants. I don't remember finding perfectly wearable clothing anywhere else I've lived. In Munich this was because people are just too ... hmm, what are they ... law-abiding, conservative, thrifty or just anally retentive? Probably a bit of each, but they are not big on littering. And in all other cities this shoe would have long been on someone else's foot. So what do we learn from this? Dubliners don't mind getting rid of things they no longer need in public places, but the city is home to very few homeless people desperate enough to collect rubbish. Surprisingly, this is a pretty good sketch of this place, at least in my opinion. It was added to by two of my colleagues during lunch today. When I told them about my find and openly wondered where it had come from, they were both amazed that I had not come up with the answer myself. "It's quite obvious," they explained. "Some bloke got drunk, stumble home and lost a shoe along the way. And when he finally woke up again, he could not even remember having gone out let alone where he'd been. So he ditched the wet sock and the other shoe and carried on as before. People around here tend to have replacements for such items that are easily lost, because it just isn't a rare occurence in their lives, so they have to be prepared." Well, I'm glad we solved that mystery.
Dinner on the other hand did not need thinking about today. I'd had a great day, was keen to cook and, most importantly, had some chicken legs waiting for me at home. The rest of the meal was, as it is on most days, dictated by the contents of our fridge. Tesco had delivered 10 kilos of fertiliser-free spuds on Sunday that were just waiting to be tested, and I had a lime, some mushrooms and a bag of organic baby kale left in the fridge, all of which really wanted to be eaten. With a bit of imagination, this combination looks decidedly like lime and herb roast chicken legs with buttered potatoes, steamed kale and pan-fried mushrooms. Don't you agree?And this is how you get there without having to imagine anything:

For the chicken:
enough chicken pieces for two people (I generally use two legs and two thighs, but obviously breasts work fine if you prefer them)
1 lime, cut into eight pieces
6 to 8 cloves of garlic, left in their skins
1 tbsp butter
2 tsp mixed herbs (such as thyme, basil and, oregano), either dried or fresh (use a little more if using fresh herbs
For the mushrooms:
2 handfuls of mushrooms, sliced (I used button mushrooms, but, obviously, most mushrooms would work here)
2 tbsp olive oil
a pinch of cumin
salt and pepper to taste
For the kale:
350 g kale leaves (weighed without the stem), rinsed, dried and very roughly chopped
½ onion, finely chopped
2 tbsp butter
a dash of white wine vinegar
salt to taste
For the potatoes:
6 to 8 small potatoes, cleaned but left in their skins
a large knob of butter

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius. For the chicken, melt the butter in a pan over low heat. Arrange the chicken pieces and limes in an ovenproof dish, sprinkle with the herbs and drizzle with butter. Tuck the garlic underneath the chicken. Put the dish in the oven. Leave to roast for about 1 hour, or until the skin is crispy and the juices run clear. Baste occasionally with the pan juices.
When the chicken has been in the oven for about 30 minutes, put the potatoes in a medium size saucepan, cover with water and bring to the boil. Salt and allow to cook through. They want about 20 minutes in boiling water.
Once the potatoes are boiling, start the kale. Melt the butter in a large saucepan, then add the onions and fry over medium to low heat until translucent.
When the onions are cooked, get ready to fry the mushrooms. (If you are using wild mushrooms, wait a little longer. They do not take as long to cook and are not nice if they stay in the pan too long.) Heat the oil in a large frying pan over medium high heat. As so often, size matters here. If your pan is too small or the walls are too high, the mushrooms will steam rather than fry. This does not mean that they will be inedible, but it does not really go with this dish.
Anyway, while the butter is melting, add the kale to the onions. Add a little bit of boiling water (very little!), cover and reduce the heat to low. Once the oil in the pan is hot, add the mushrooms. Lay them out in a single layer and allow to cook undisturbed until they are beginning to shrink and release their juices. (Do stir them if they appear dry, though. But whatever you do, do not add liquid.) Turn them over and continue frying until browned on all sides. Season with cumin and salt.
When the chicken is cooked (which should be half way through the kale and mushroom cooking time), pull it out of the oven and rest, undisturbed, in a warm place until the rest of the dinner is done. This allows the meat to reabsorb the juices.
When the kale is soft, add a dash of vinegar and remove from the heat. Drain the potatoes and add the butter. Cover and allow to melt.
To serve, arrange two chicken piece on a plate, arrange the roast garlic cloves, kale and potatoes around it and top with the mushrooms. Drizzle the potatoes with butter and the chicken with its pan juices.

Christine at 10:00 pm

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Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Creamy Risotto

Rain, rain and more rain is what greeted me this evening when I left the office. I hate rain if I have to go out in it. It's nice to watch a thunderstorm in the desert from the comfort of a lodge or to listen to the raindrops knocking on your window while you're curled up on the sofa, drinking a nice, hot tea and watching a movie. But it is horrible if you are sitting on a bicycle trying to fight your way through Dublin traffic (or any traffic, really). Accordingly, when it is really pouring down like that, I do not want to leave whatever room I'm in. If I'm at work, I forget about the nice comfy sofa waiting for me at home and just want to stay at the office until the sun comes back out - even if this means living there for a week or two. Obviously, this is not possible nor is it really desirable, so I put on my bright yellow waterproof trousers, my reflective vest and my helmet, and head off. I must admit, dressed like this, I closely resemble the Michelin Man on his way to a construction job, but with roads like ours and drivers who have no clue about road safety, looks are definitely the least of my worries.
Despite all this protective gear, I arrived at home looking as if I'd just been rescued from a sinking oil tanker: soaking wet and covered in sticky black goo. I was not a happy bunny and definitely not in the mood for standing in the kitchen for several hours. Dinner therefore needed to be something easy, something that does not need supervising and still won't go wrong - something like risotto. This might sound arrogant now, because risotto has a posh reputation. But if posh means complicated then it is wrongly accused. I used to make risotto quite often because it's cheap, quick, easy to make and great for using up leftovers. The key to a good risotto lies in the rice. If you cut corners here, the result can be disastrous. Outside Italy, risotto is most commonly made with Arborio rice; Italians and professional chefs tend to prefer Carnaroli or Vialone Nano, but these are more difficult to find and tend to be expensive. In any case, in order to go truly creamy, risotto needs to be made using a round grain rice with a high starch content, so stay away from long grain or basmati rice. You could use pudding rice, as I have done in the past when money was a concern, but do so only if you know what you are doing and stay with the dish unless you want to end up with rice soup. Providing you take these tiny warnings into account, here's a foolproof way to the perfect risotto:
½ onion, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
30 g butter (or olive oil, if you don't eat butter, but bear in mind that the taste will change)
½ tsp dried thyme
½ tsp dried oregano
200 g risotto rice (about ¾ cups if you don't have kitchen scales)
75 ml dry white wine
½ litre boiling stock (choose the flavour of the stock to suit the ingredients)
100 g cheese, grated (normally, risotto is made with parmesan (in which case you will need an extra 20 g butter), but I prefer it thick and gooey, so I use a mix of parmesan and mozzarella; whatever you do, make sure it's a cheese that melts well and has a bit of flavour to it (read: forget about cheap cheddar or edam!))
all the things you like in a risotto (I've tried a number of things, including cooked prawns, steamed mussels, smoked salmon, finely shredded chicken, bacon bits, mushrooms, spinach, chopped carrots, blanched broccoli florets and sweetcorn, but the possibilities are endless. Just don't go for very watery things like tomatoes or aubergines (the former are a really nice topping in the summer, though) and those that fall apart easily, such as fish filet.)
salt and pepper to taste

Melt the butter in a medium sized saucepan over medium heat. Add the onions and sweat for 5 minutes. Now add the garlic, thyme and oregano and continue cooking for another minute. If you are using hard vegetables (such as carrots or fennel) or mushrooms (including dried ones), now is the time to add them. Continue cooking for a few more minutes until the vegetables are brightly coloured and the mushrooms have released their juices and shrunk down.

Add the rice and fry, stirring constantly, until translucent, about 2 minutes. Add the wine and bring to the boil. Pour in the stock and allow to boil for 2 minutes. Reduce the heat to low, cover and allow to simmer gently for another 15 to 20 minutes. Stir occasionally to prevent sticking and add more stock if the pan appears dry, but the rice is not cooked through. Make sure not to overdo the liquid though.
Just before the rice is done, add any cooked ingredients or leaves. Heat through. Finally, add the mozzarella (or parmesan and butter), pull the pan off the heat and allow the cheese to melt. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
In theory, the result should be a nicely creamy, but not sticky risotto. My variation on the cheese, however, does cause the dish to assume the consistency of steamed jellyfish congee. This does not affect the flavour though; nor does it cause the rice to disintegrate, so somehow it works. To me it is the ultimate year-round comfort food.
And it is perfect when you've got company. It needs very little preparation, is versatile enough to accommodate even the fussiest of eaters (you can even heat the meat/fish/vegetables separately and add them at the end, which allows you to make different versions with one lot of rice), cooks itself while you attend to your guests. Also, the recipe can be adjusted for any number of people without taking the cook to his/her limits and - Lofty's favourite aspect - it only uses one saucepan. And for the pretentious hosts (such as my mum, who loves risotto) there is the added advantage that, as I said in the beginning, risotto sounds terribly posh and is bound to impress. And for those who want something more substantial for dinner, you could even top the rice with some grilled fish, king prawns or a filet steak. But this might be overkill. These things are better served with such side dishes as potato wedges, freshly prepared tomato salsa and fresh corn on the cob. But you will have to wait for another day to learn more about that. For now, I say good night and get on with dinner.

Christine at 10:09 pm

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