Showing posts with label market. Show all posts
Showing posts with label market. Show all posts

Monday, January 24, 2011

Beetroot Ravioli with Broad Bean Pesto

Mmmmmmmmmm!

For months now I've wanted to make some home made ravioli. We've made lots of home made pasta before, but there's something about ravioli that is just that much better when home made (at least in my head). So, I finally decided that this Saturday I would find some tasty morsels at the market to put into a ravioli. Beetroots and broad beans were the thing, along with some delicious goats cheese parmesan and some ricotta.

Now the great thing about ravioli is that you don't really need a pasta machine. You can simply hand roll the pasta using a rolling pin. It might not be as thin as with a machine, but there's that hand made quality that only comes from, well, your hands. So with our fresh produce from the market and some tasty herbs from the garden, we got at it.

I found this recipe online at the Jamie Oliver website. The original recipe can be found here. But I've included my own version of it here for you. Have fun!

Beetroot ravioli with broad bean pesto

Ingredients

For Filling:
2 beetroots (about the size of your fist - no, not his, yours)
250g mascarpone (or ricotta)
~2 inch piece of parmesan, grated
Freshly ground black pepper

For the pesto:
40-50 podded broad beans
2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
50g grated parmesan
1/2 tsp sea salt
Some pepper
30g fresh basil leaves
10g fresh mint leaves
1 tbsp unsalted butter
Juice and zest from 1 lemon
50-75 ml extra-virgin Olive oil

For the pasta:
300g flour
2 eggs
Pinch of salt
50ml water
1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

Method

For the Filling:
1. Boil the beets for ~1 hour, until cooked through. Remove from the water and peel skin once cool enough. Cut into 1 inch cubes.
2. Throw beets and mascarpone (or ricotta) into food processor and blitz until smooth. Dump into a bowl and add the parmesan and season. Mix together. Set aside.

For the pesto:
1. Throw all the ingredients (except the olive oil) into a food processor and mix until roughly chopped. Add a splash of olive oil and pulse. Keep adding oil and pulsing until you reach the consistency desired.
2. Place in a container and press plastic wrap (or a tight fitting lid) right down onto the surface of the pesto to keep air out (this will turn your pesto brown).

For the pasta:
1. Place flour and salt in a mound on work surface and make a well in the middle. Break your eggs into the centre. Add your olive oil and water. Using either a fork or your fingers, gently mix in the liquid ingredients with flour from the inside of the bowl. Don't worry if your bowl breaks and liquid escapes, just sprinkle some of your flour over top of it and mix it together.
2. Knead on counter until smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes. If it is too wet add more flour, if too dry add a little water.
3. Once the dough has reached a good consistency, cut it into 4 pieces of equal size. Roll one out to ~1/2cm thickness and cut into circles using a cookie cutter, glass rim or jar. Keep cutting and re-rolling until all your dough is gone.
4. Pair up your circles and then roll them out as thin as possible. Brush one circle with water and start filling!

Assembly and cooking:
1. Place a heaped teaspoon of filling (or as much as you can) on the wet circle. Place the other circle on top and press down on the seams all around, trying not to let any filling escape.
2. Place completed ravioli on a dry tea towel and cover with another.
3. Bring some salted water to a boil. Cook your ravioli in batches to ensure they don't stick together for 3-5 minutes - until glossy and cooked through. Use a slotted spoon to remove cooked pasta. Drizzle with olive oil, plate and serve with some pesto.

Mmmmmm - tasty!

PS. We had some filling left over, so the next day we added it to our mashed potatoes and it was pretty tasty (and very pink).

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Lyttleton Market

Every Saturday the Lyttleton Farmers Market fills the Lyttleton School yard with fresh produce, baking, meat, and a range of sauces, jams, pickles, sandwiches and more. Each week there is a live band and each week, a happy crowd of people doing their weekly shopping, sight-seeing, and socializing. It is a happy and jovial atmosphere with lots of little kids, even more smiles and a plentitidue of delicious foods. Last weekend I brought my camera to try and capture some of the feelings the market evokes. Enjoy!

And at the end of the day we go home to fill our pantry with the delicious goodies we purchased at the market. Our dinners on Saturday night are a constant surprise, depending largely on what looks good at the market that day. Last weekend it was the gurnard, caught fresh that morning, cooked with some lemons I found in someones compost bin after they had pruned their lemon tree and some lovely young fennel and cinnamon basil. Delicious!

Friday, May 22, 2009

The Sewing Machine


It started when I was invited to join a stitch'n'bitch group that two of my fellow Gateway Antarcticans were part of. So I biked out that Wednesday night with my little basket of knitting and felting, and found my way to a cosy house with tea and treats. There I met Fenela and Louise (Ursula and Briar being the ones who invited me). Mostly the others quilt. Quilting is a pastime I've always told myself I will take up when I'm old and have time (that's what happens doesn't it; as you age you have more time on your hands?!). That first night, I worked on my knitting and watched as various squares of beautiful fabric came together.

The following week was hosted at someone elses house, with different treats and tea, but all the same lovely fabric overflowing from bags and baskets. I spent more time asking about how to hand sew and choose fabrics and patterns. The weekly meetings encouraged me to finish more projects than I'd ever even dreamed of, but it also expanded my creative desires, much to Stephen's chagrin as more and more wool, fabric, beads, paper, and all their requesit tools filled our little space. This all came to a head when last Sunday I took a much desired trip to Riccarton Market (without Stephen).

I went there with only a certain amount of cash. This is a must when attending any sort of market (much like setting a limit before going to an auction). I gathered all the vegetables and fruit I knew we needed, then set to with the remaining cash to find what sort of deals I could find to feed my growing crafting urges. A beautiful porcelaine bowl here, some heavy silver cutlery there, a variety of frames for the collection of Yukon art cards I'd brought from home, and always, on the back of my mind a good deal on a sewing machine to replace the one we left behind in Whitehorse.

And there it was. A gorgeous old Singer. Gold flower design handpainted onto it's slender body resting amongst an assortment of antique wooden furniture and worn tapestries. I inquire off-handedly as to the cost of the "old sewing machine" and choke on the answer, 100$. Okay, so maybe that's not all that much, but it's certainly more than I had left in my pocket. So, it was one more lingering glance and goodbye. I wove amongst the hundreds of other market goers looking for deals.

Some ten stalls later, I chance a glance of another, somewhat less antique machine. This time I use more surreptitious techiniques and scan for a price tag, 85$. Not much better and certainly not within my budget. Things are not looking good, as I've done my once over of the market and can't remember seeing any other machines.

Winding my way through the stalls, I make towards the exit. Stopping at a stall held by several women to pick up a little glass vase. Making my way to the table I literally stumble over my prize. An unassuming wooden tubular box sits on the ground amongst some cardboard boxes of kids toys. I carefully peel back the cover, underneath sits a dusty, grimy, glowing, regal Singer sewing machine. I quickly move to the table and ask for its price. The lady looks at it and back to me, "How does 30$ sound?". Done!

Then of course I realize I have a bulging backpack on, I'm carrying two overlaoded bags of goods, I'm 45 minutes from home, and on my bike. Hmmmm. I ask casually where the lady lives. On the other side of town from me. Not much better from here. I tell her where I live, she's not planning a trip in that direction any time soon. But she does work only 10 blocks from there and she'll bring it in on Tuesday. Hooraahh! So I pass over my money, load the machine into her car and head off singing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It's Tuesday and it's raining. Pouring. Hailing. I'm not leaving the house.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wednesday, See Tuesday.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thursday, not much better than Wednesday or Tuesday, but I'm tired of waiting. I haed out on my bike, loaded with as many bungee cords as I can muster (4 - hey, they're harder than sheep, especially with no mustering dog to help; believe me, the cat does not even approach helpfulness on this front). I arrive at the office without much fuss and find the machine sitting on the desk waiting for me. A nice lady helps me with the door and wishes me luck with the rain and the bike home. I trundle outside, muttering about the rain and work at somehow attaching a 30lb. piece of machinery to the back of my bike.

Just as I struggle with the last of the cords I notice a distinct lack of increasing wetness. In fact the rain has not only stopped, the sun has come out (partly). I slap on my helmet, meet up with Stephen (who stopped on his way home from school to help with the expected terror of a trip home), and carefully bike home. And now, the Singer sits on the dining room table (when in use), whirring happily away on my basic projects (like seaming). The excitement now lies in figuring out what all the various sewing 'heads' that came with it do (there are some pretty complicated looking ones) and how to convince the other stitchers to come to my cramped quarters and teach me how to use them for quilting. . .PhD?! What's that?

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Weekend life

Last Friday Stephen and I went to our first Rugby game. It was the Canterbury Crusaders vs. the Wellington Hurricanes. The stadium (still half built) was packed and there was beer and fries in plenitude. I seem to have spent half the night watching the people around me to know when to cheer and when not to. In the end it didn't really matter as our team (yes, the local one) lost. And pretty badly at that. But the rain had held off so far and it was warm, so the night was not completely lost. We biked around for a bit and then went home.

The next day, I woke up, excited about the market that morning. Fresh fruit and veggies, meat and as-local-as-it-comes beer, there was even a chicken liver pate competition on this week. So it was to my dismay to walk outside and find my bike no longer locked up in the shed where I had left it the night before. Man was I ever pissed off. I mean it's not just stealing a thing, it's my mode of transportation, and it made Christchurch feel so much bigger and everything much further away. So I spent the day fuming about having to take the bus and looking at every single bike we went past to see if it was mine. Unfortunately we never passed my bike and I therefore didn't get the chance to jump somebody.

Sunday was much better. With the warm sun and quiet breeze it was hard to stay upset for long. Instead we packed up our swimming togs and headed down to the beach. After a picnic lunch, we played in the waves, body surfing, swimming, splashing, and just sitting. By the time we got out the wind had picked up just a wee bit to level of sand blaster and we decided to pack our stuff up and go for a walk. We watched surfers and kayakers play in the waves, before heading back to the bus and home again. And after a minor incident involving a sharp knife, the tip of my thumb and an excessive amount of tape and blood, we ate dinner, watched a James Bond movie and headed into bed.

The week has gone by relatively quickly since then. I've had several calls from various policemen to assure me they are looking for my bike. I have since purchased a new bike (one that will be covered by our insurance this time). And bogglingly enough I have also received a cheque for 220$ from my landlord who adamantly insists he should pay for it. To quote a childhood favorite of mine "These Kiwis are crazy!"

Today we celebrate Stephens' birthday. And in the tradition of Stephen, that means staying late at school (on a Friday) to finish up homework that is due late next month. I'm hoping to drag him back home at least in time for dinner and a cake, but we'll see. He is bigger than me.

Hope you're all doing well and enjoying spring,

Erin

Thursday, February 12, 2009

PICTURES


New Brighton beach; just a 15 minute bike away from our place. Lots of waves, lots of people.

The giant chess set available for use any day you want it.

The market in Cathedral Square open every day (sunshine mandatory).

Punting on the river Avon which leads pretty much straight to our door, perhaps we should invest in a boat. . . . .

Stephen in our little kitchen. What it lacks in space it certainly makes up in style.