Global cuisine - Turkish

Hmm, it's been a while. We have been following our pledge. I've just been rather lousy at posting about it. After our week in Morocco, we continued across the Mediterranean to Turkey. While I have always wanted to visit Istanbul and Hagia Sopiha, I have had very little idea about what Turkish food consisted of.

[Sorry, no food pic this time - pilaf isn't really that photogenic. Instead, a lovely picture from Lonely Planet of Istanbul, a city I long to visit]

I should admit now, it is a lot more work than I anticipated cooking a country a week. You have to choose a country, thinking about what's in season and available at that time of year. You have to find recipes (my two favorite places have been the internet and the public library) and choose those which coincide with seasonally available produce (at least in my mind you should). Then you have to track down any specialty ingredients you might need (Japan - Saki, France - Duck fat, Turkey - Grape leaves). And each night, after work or school, you have to be up for learning new techniques and trying new things. Don't get me wrong, it's a blast. But it has resulted in me looking for the simplest meals at times - which I suppose is something someone from any country would do after a long day of work. Leading me to admitting that while cooking Turkish food, we ate a lot of pilafs.

Pilafs are awesome. Essentially, rice, barley or couscous cooked in a flavoured broth with tasty bits added in. They take rice to a whole new level for me and the recipe I have below was my absolute favorite of the lot. While it only has 6 ingredients, the flavours are rich and delicious and the ingredients are super easy to find.

Chickpea Pilaf

1 can drained chickpeas (390g net)

175 g long-grained rice*

1 onion, chopped

2 Tablespoons butter

600ml stock (I like chicken)

1 large bunch of spinach, washed and chopped

Pepper to taste (salt is in your stock)

1) Melt butter in large pot, or wok, and add onions. Cook until soft. Stir in chickpeas and rice. Pour in stock, season with pepper and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and cook, stirring often, until almost all liquid has been absorbed. Stir in spinach until it wilts in.

2) Remove pan from heat, cover with a clean, dry teatowel and press the lid down tightly. Leave to steam 15-20 minutes.

3) Fluff gently with a fork and serve.

*I am learning so much about the different types of rice, how they vary taste-wise and cooking-wise. It's great.

Global cuisine - Morocco

[Olive and lemon display in Meknez souq]

This specific choice was one I had been looking forward to. A few years ago, while still doing my undergraduate degree, I took a month to travel to Fez, Morocco and attend an arabic language school. It was a phenomenal experience and I think of it with great fondness, hoping someday to go back and see more of that magical country. One of the things I loved about the trip was the food.

The first three weeks of my trip happened to coincide with Ramadan, the month of fasting. From sun up until sun down, no food was allowed to pass the lips of any muslim. This is practiced in order to learn patience, spirituality, humility and humbleness before God. My last week there was Eid Al-Fitr, which marks the end of the fasting when the new moon is first spotted. This is essentially a big party with lots of food and celebration. Everyone was decked out in their finery and smiling. It was good fun.

For our week of Moroccan food here I was constantly telling Stephen stories about this meal or that one. He was even thoughtful enough to make up a batch of paratha dough early in the week, which allowed me to slice, fold and fry them up for breakfast each morning and store the remaining dough back in the fridge. Although parathas are not originally North African, one of the other language students at the school whom I lived with treated me to them each morning - slathered in butter and honey.

Moroccan food is about couscous, cinnamon, saffron, dates and olives. The tajine is probably the most recognized food from that area and a tasty one at that. One of the rules I remember learning from my host family was that the meat was always hidden under the mound of couscous which was in turn covered in vegetables. This ensured that children would have to eat through the important bits to get at the meaty treasure beneath. Another important lesson in a land where hands were the tools used for eating was that only the right hand was ever used to take food from the communal plate. And if possible, it was the only hand used at all. This presumably comes from the sanitary requirements for survival in a water scarce environment.

One of the highlights for me of the week was finally trying chermoula. This is traditionally used as a marinade for fish but we used it with delicious results as a sauce for carrots as well.

[Meat and carrot tajine with leftover chermoula on the carrots]

Chermoula

Taken from der Haroutunian, A. (2009) North African Cookery. Grub Street, London.

4 tablespoons oil

75g butter

1 onion, sliced into rounds

2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

50g chopped fresh parsley

50g chopped fresh coriander

1 teaspoon black pepper

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ginger

1/2 teaspoon saffron diluted in 4 tablespoons water (I didn't have any, it still tasted wonderful)

1/2 teaspoon cumin

1/2 teaspoon thyme

1/2 teaspoon paprika

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

2 bay leaves

1. Heat oil and butter in a saucepan and add all remaining ingredients. Cook over moderate heat for 12-15 minutes, stirring frequently. Remove from the heat and serve hot or cold.

I cooled mine to room temperature and then poured over my white fish fillets. Leftover was stored in the refrigerator and used later in the week tossed in with cooked carrots.

Global cuisine - Thai

[One of two fish curries served with brown rice and lime]

It has certainly been a wee while since I've posted anything up here. Lots to do lately, with deadlines and projects coming to a head. And spring too, seems to be bursting forth with no holding back. Despite our busy schedule, we have been keeping to our national food adventures. After our foray into French cuisine we wandered back East to try some Thai. Stephen had been wanting to try making Phad Thai, so we bought some rice noodles, some limes and some bean sprouts and got stuck in.

We began with something we were rather comfortable with - curry. Before taking on this experiment I never fully realized the huge differences in curries. I knew that several different nations made curries, but I was never fully appreciative of their unique qualities. Indian curries (well, the Westernized versions anyhow), for example, have quite deep, warming flavours, with cumin, fenugreek, and coriander (along with many others). While Thai curries tend to be more fresh and clean tasting. These are usually based around fresh ingredients like kaffir lime leaves, chilies and ginger. Our first couple of meals were fish curries, and despite using the same fish, we were able to make vastly different curries formed around these basic ingredients (along with fish sauce, sugar and coconut cream).

I must admit the Phad Thai we eventually made was a bit of a let down as it lacked enough sauce to make it really flavourful. But this was most likely the fault of the cooks rather than the recipe. We moved onto what was probably my favorite dish - spicy longbeans with(out) salty eggs. The latter subtraction was due to the 3 weeks needed to actually make the salty eggs. But it was pretty tasty even without. And finished the week with prawns with chili and basil.

[Prawns with chili and basil - tasty, tasty]

A rather tasty week, full of fresh flavours. It was lovely and light after the warm heaviness of french cuisine. One of the lessons we took away from the Thai week, was the mathematics of taste in a Thai curry. Too salty - add sugar, too sweet - add fish sauce, and too sweet and salty - add lime juice. Worked every time!

Spicy longbeans with(out) salty eggs

I have adapted this from the original and not included the salty egg bit, but you can find the full recipe in Bhumichitr, V. (2005) Vatch's Thai Kitchen. Ryland, Peters & Small, London.

Peanut or sunflower oil

180g ready-fried beancurd, finely sliced

2 teaspoons finely chopped garlic

1 tablespoon Red Curry paste (see below)

250g Chinese longbeans (or green beans), chopped into 2.5cm lengths

2 tablespoons light soy sauce

4 tablespoons vegetable stock

1 teaspoon sugar

1 tablespoon ground roasted peanuts

4 kaffir lime leaves, finely chopped

1. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in wok on high heat. Add beancurd and fry until golden brown. Remove from wok and drain on paper towel covered plate.

2. Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in wok, add garlic and fry until golden brown. Stir in the curry paste. Add beans, soy sauce, stock, sugar, peanuts, lime leaves and fried beancurd. Stir-fry until the beans are done to your taste.

3. Serve and enjoy.

Red Curry Paste

Grind the following ingredients into a paste in a large mortar and pestle.

8 long red dried chilies, deseeded and chopped

1 teaspoon ground coriander seed

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin seed

1 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper

2 tablespoons fresh chopped garlic

2 stalks lemongrass, chopped

3 coriander roots, chopped (I didn't have any - it still tasted good)

1 teaspoon chopped kaffir lime skin, or finely chopped lime leaves

3 cm fresh galangal or ginger, peeled and chopped

1 teaspoon salt

Global cuisine - France

[Steak au Poivre with truffle mashed potatoes and sauteed baby leeks]

Continuing on from our previous plan, last week we focused on French food. What a change from our previous week which had been simple, light, and easy. French food, with its profuse use of butter and cream and a multitude of techniques was very different. But that's what we were looking for so we dove straight in.

While it would be easy to get bogged down in the highly technical and fancy food of French haute cuisine we were more interested in finding recipes that were more the basic, eat around the farm table fare. Also keeping to our seasonal vege rule limited our forays into too many exotic areas. But good thing for us, leeks are in season right now. And if a leek is not the epitome of french cooking then I don't know what is.

Our first french meal was mussels gratine with green lentils and herbs. Rich with a tasty creamy sauce, the mussels were a lovely, cheap way to start things off. The next night, we had Steak au poivre (or pepper steak) with truffle oil mashed potatoes and sauteed baby leeks. Familiar with the carnivorous leanings of french cuisine (or my experience and knowledge of it), we wanted to see what sorts of vegetarian dishes were there. We had a tasty (and butter and cream filled) leek tart, leek and potato soup, and of course, french onion soup (so much better than my first taste of it at a highway rest stop on the Alaska Highway in the middle of the Yukon). And throughout all this I was researching and planning my coup d'eta - cassoulet. Unfortunately, this led me to realize that cassoulet was not a meal to be made in a day, or even a week really. So we will have to enjoy it a little later, once the duck confit is made and rested. And the beans are found and soaked. Then, say in three or four weeks (I've been told the duck confit improves with age), we can finally sit down for the finale. But for now, we're moving on - Thailand up next.

[Mussels Gratin with green lentils and herbs]

Mussels Gratin (from So French - A lifetime in the provincial kitchen by Dany Chouet and Trish Hobbs)

1.25kg mussels

2 large french shallots, diced

250 ml dry white wine

40 g unsalted butter, plus extra for grilling

2 garlic cloves

1/2 teaspoon curry powder

1 egg yolk

50 ml cream

juice of half a lemon

20 g fine fresh breadcrumbs

1. Scrub mussels thoroughly under running water and pull our the hairy beards. Do not soak them or you will lose their precious liquid. Once clean, place them in a bowl and set aside.

2. Combine the shallots and wine in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat. Cook for a few minutes only and add the mussels. Cover the pan and shake. Continue to cook until the mussels begin to open. Remove the mussels as they open (allow them to get quite open, not just slightly). Throw out any mussels that do not open (these were dead before you cooked them and could make you sick).

3. Once all the mussels are out, strain the remaining juices through a fine seive and allow to settle. Remove the empty half of the mussels and lay the meaty ones in a large gratin dish (shallow baking pan with sides). Set aside.

4. Meld the butter in a saucepan over low heat, add the flour and stir until completely mixed (make a roux). Gradually pour in the mussel juice, being careful not to stop before any of the sediment at the bottom gets in. Whisk this until smooth, add the garlic and the curry powder and cook on low, stirring, until it thickens. Check your seasoning and add salt or pepper if you like. If it gets too thick add some water.

5. In a bowl whisk together the egg yolk and the cream with the lemon juice and some pepper. Add to the sauce.

6. Preheat your grill on high. Pour the sauce over the mussels, being sure to get some in each little shell. Sprinkle the breadcrumbs over top and dot with butter. Throw it under the grill for 3-5 minutes, or until golden brown. Serve immediately.

- Chouet, D. & Hobbs, T. (2010). So French: A lifetime in the provincial kitchen. Murdoch Books; London. p.96

Global cuisine - Japan

[Miso rice balls (front) and teriyaki beef rice balls (back) in Diamond Harbour for lunch]

While life is an ongoing interesting adventure full of new things to experience and people to share with, sometimes it's nice to create an environment where you force yourself to try new things and experiment.

Now I consider myself pretty adventurous in the kitchen, trying new recipes and new foods as much as possible. But it's hard not to fall back onto those familiar foods we know how to make and can throw together with our eyes closed after a long day of work. A couple of weeks ago, I thought maybe we could try something to push our comfort and force ourselves to learn new things. So the idea of cooking global came up. For a week at a time, we would cook all our dinners (and lunches if at home) from a national cuisine. Looking at our cupboard and seeing what was in season, we decided our first week would be Japanese.

Now, I've never been to Japan, though I would one day love to go. Probably with my brother, who I would take as a guide as he has been there several times already and has a deep passion for all things Japanese. Despite this, I do enjoy their food, or rather, what has been presented to me by mass media as their national dishes - sushi, ramen, and okinomiyaki (a fried egg and cabbage omlette with shrimp and tasty sauce). Ok, the okinomiyaki is probably not a mass media thing, it was rather a dish my brother and dad brought back with them from one of their earlier trips to Japan. But this was what I thought of for Japanese foods. I knew there was more out there, so one of the 'rules' for this little experiment would be to cook things we hadn't cooked before - so no sushi.

I started by going to the library and taking out the cook books they had there. And, probably unique to Japan, I found a manga (graphic novel, comic book) devoted to the exploration of Japanese food. In each volume, Oishinbo explores a different aspect of Japanese cuisine. I had seen them floating around my brothers room back home, so I picked up the one they had on "The Joy of Rice". With my literary guides chosen I headed home to see what we could conjure up for our week of Japanese eating.

[Oishinbo, or "The Gourmet", looks into various aspects of Japanese food. I got my ideas for rice balls from here.]

The first night, a Thursday I think, we ate beef and udon noodle soup. It was absolutely delicious. The next night it was a bowl of rice with several toppings arranged artfully around the top (aesthetics is an important part of food preparation in Japan). On the weekend, I made three different types of rice balls some stuffed, some just coated in flavours. These worked perfectly for our lunches on our hike and ski outings. No worries about squishing bread, just an easy to eat, flavourful treat ready to go at lunch. In fact, towards the end of the week it was getting easy to experiment with our new understanding of flavours and ingredients to make up our own recipes. Although, on our last night, we fell back to our recipe book and made a simple (most of the food we made was surprisingly simple and non-fussy) and absolutely divine sweet miso marinated cod with noodles and fennel salad.

During this week, I learned a few things. Firstly, that by cooking from a specific cuisine we spent far less money on groceries as we only needed a few choice ingredients that we used up through the week (1x 500ml bottle of miso paste, 3/4 bottle of sake, 1/2 bottle pickled ginger, 1 packet soba noodles and 4 packets udon noodles, among others). Our fridge remained spacious and nothing went to waste. It was a satisfying feeling. Second, Japanese food (sushi) has always been presented (or perceived by me anyhow) as an exotic, fancy food for celebrities and executives. This has slowly changed over time as it has become more the norm to find sushi places around town (heck, in Whitehorse there are two, at one point even three, sushi places. This for a town of 25,000). However, the home cooking that we were doing was far from the complicated, many stepped ritual of preparing and rolling rice. We have put several of our experiments into our own little recipe collection for later use. Eventually, these once exotic recipes will become the easy fall back onto which we will look for sustenance after a long day at work.

Below are two recipes I particularly enjoyed. First, spinach gomaae. Always a favorite of mine when visiting a Japanese restaurant, this spinach salad with sesame dressing was something I really wanted to try and make. Little did I know just how easy it was to make. A word of warning, it does have a strong flavour. Although I love it, poor Stephen does not, which was good for me I suppose as I got to eat it all up. This recipe has been taken (and slightly altered) from the New York Times website (that source for all things Japanese ;-). Their link follows.

Spinach Gomaae

1 large bunch of spinach (younger leaves are more tender)

4 tablespoons of seasame seeds

1/2 tablespoon sugar (more or less depending on how sweet you like it*)

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon soy sauce

1 tablespoon sake

a splash of water

1. First, prepare the spinach by chopping just the very tips of the bottoms off (keeping the leaves joined if they are young and keeping the stems if they are larger) and rinsing off any dirt clinging on. Bring a large pot of water to the boil and have ready a large bowl of ice water along side.

2. Blanche the spinach - In batches, place some spinach in a mesh seive and dip this into the boiling water. Using a large spoon make sure the spinach is submerged in the water and hold it there for about 30 seconds, then remove it from the pot and dump it into the ice water. The spinach can sit in here quite happily for a while.

3. Once you have blanched your spinach, remove it in handfuls, squeezing out any excess water. Chop into 2 inch lengths and throw into a bowl.

4. Now, prepare the dressing. Toss your sesame seeds into a dry frying pan on high heat and toast. Keep the pan moving and shake the seeds around until they begin to turn golden brown and become aromatic. Remove the pan from the heat and pour the seeds into a mortar and pestle and allow to cool.

5. Once cool (or at least mostly), grind the seeds until just crushed. You should have a few still whole, but most will be crushed.

6. Combine the soy sauce and sugar in a bowl and stir until the sugar dissolves. Add the sake and sesame seeds, pour in some water to reach the consistency you prefer. I put in about a tablespoon. Pour this over your spinach and mix.

Enjoy your tasty creation. (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/20/health/20recipehealth.html)

_______________________________

The second recipe is the one we made on our last night, sweet miso marinated cod. You can substitute any white fish you like. This is from one of the cookbooks we got from the library, Japanese Pure and Simple by Kimiko Barber. It is simple and so delicious. And although it might look like a lot of sugar, dessert is not common in Japan, mostly it is just fresh, sliced fruit, so I would recommend following this dinner with just that. We served our fish with some buckwheat soba noodles and a fresh fennel salad (sliced fennel root massaged with 1/2 teaspoon salt and sprinkled with lemon juice from 1/2 lemon).

Sweet Miso Marinated Cod

enough fillets of cod to feed your crew

200ml sake

100g sugar

450g light-coloured miso paste (we only had ~350g but it was still tasty)

1. Make up the marinade by placing the sake into a saucepan and bring to a boil. Allow alcohol to burn off for a few minutes, then remove from heat. Add sugar and stir until dissoved. Add miso paste and whisk together.

2. Place fillets into a flat dish with sides and pour over the marinade. Marinade fish in fridge for a few hours, 2-12 hours (any longer and your fish will start to dry out and become overpoweringly miso flavoured).

3. Heat grill to high and place fish under heat for 3-7 minutes (depending on size of fillets). Turn them over once golden and finish cooking (a little bit of caramelization is not bad, in fact it's pretty tasty).

There you have it. Tasty, miso cod. (Barber, K. 2006. Japanese pure and simple: over 100 health-giving recipes. Kyle Cathie Ltd., London.)

Next week - french. I've always wanted to make cassoulet. . .

Birthday Weekend

It's been a wee while since I wrote here. Lots has been happening and I've had little time to reflect on what exactly that has been. But now, I'm taking the time to put something up I've had floating about in my head for a while.

In early February my parents gave me a birthday present. Unfortunately, they weren't here and I wasn't there with them. So instead of a book or something else, they gave me an experience. I was to find either a cooking class or sailing trip that could be made into a weekend away and they would pay. After searching about on the internet, I settled on the Akaroa Cooking School. A relatively new business in Akaroa on the other side of the Banks Peninsula from Christchurch. We found ourselves a cute little cottage to stay in, through Kokopu Estates and we were set.

After coming home from work Friday afternoon, we spent some time racking the leaves and packing our bags. Finally, we got into our (new) car and headed out of town towards Akaroa. It's about a 2 hour drive, and unfortunately, we left with not quite enough time to get there in the light. So we spent a good 10 minutes driving around in the dark before we found the right road up behind Akaroa and discovered our cosy little cottage beside a wee creek. We unloaded our weekend supplies (telescope, quilting, food and clothes) and made our way back into town to find some dinner. After a delicious meal at an Italian restaurant, we set up the telescope and spent the night staring up at the stars.

[Kokopu Cottage - our home away from home for the weekend]

[Consulting the star chart to locate our next destination for the telescope]

The next day we relaxed. We wandered along the beach in Akaroa, found some food for dinner that night, discovered the wood-fired bath and made use of it and, ultimately, we relaxed. It was a gloriously sunny day, with Bell birds singing all around us, the babbling brook laughing along and the ripe apples and feijoas just falling into our hands asking to be eaten. In the evening, we cooked up some local salmon with a tasty feijoa salad and some couscous, then climbed into bed to make sure we were well rested for our busy day of cooking ahead.

The next morning, after packing up, we arrived at the cooking school at 10am in time to imbibe in a lovely breakfast tart and learn about what we were to be cooking that day. From rhubarb to lamb, sorbet to smoking, we were going to do a lot of cooking. We put on our aprons and got right into it. We began by making up the chocolate sorbet so it would have enough time to cool. Then we moved onto the beetroot relish for a later dish. Finally, we made up some delicious poached rhubarb with a nut crumble and greek yoghurt. This was matched for our tasting pleasure with a nice glass of sparkling local wine. Then it was onto a wild mushroom risotto with truffle oil and yummy parmesean. After enjoying a plateful of this (with some really nice red wine), we went outside to hot smoke some salmon. This was made along with yoghurt and a lentil salad. Throughout the loveliness of making these tasty dishes we talked about food, starting and owning a food business and the joys of being your own boss (along with the more difficult bits). The entree dish we created was roasted lamb loin with a kumara puree (lots and lots of butter is the secret here), served with a herby mayonnaise, beetroot relish, and some steamed greens. Another delicious wine pairing later, we stumbled back into the kitchen to finish our day off. Chocolate sorbet (made at the start), berry compote and chocolate molten cake to be precise. All washed down with a tasty glass of locally made port. Fully satiated and feeling just a little bit torpid, we waddled out along the beach to recover for our drive home.

[Not only was there lots of food being created, but some great conversation too]

[Hot smoked salmon with Greek Yoghurt served on top of a puy lentil and spinach salad]

[Roasted lamb loin with kumara puree, beetroot relish, herb mayonnaise and veges]

[One plate of chocolatey goodness]

Once we had recovered enough, we drove up the hill and decided to take the scenic route home. Up along Summit Road, it takes a little longer, but the views were absolutely fantastic. One side of the hills were bright and sun filled while the other seemed to boil over with cloud. We stopped and watched at one point, where the clouds poured over a saddle and down into the adjacent valley. Eventually, we made our way home and went to bed without any dinner.

[The view Northwest along Summit Road]

Thank you mom and dad, it was an absolutely wonderful weekend.

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).

Mmmmm - parathas

Food is something both Stephen and I love. Cooking, eating and, most especially, trying new things. This past week, with the arriving spring, we decided to do some tasty and spicy Indian food. But having grown up with a pretty restricted Indian food repertoire (meat and veg in some type of curry sauce) I wanted to try something new and exciting - since there is much more to Indian food than curry, naan and rice biryani (the limits of my Indian food repertoire). I know this because every time I go to an Indian restaurant the menus are huge! So I picked one of my favorite Indian foods and decided to give it a try. Entre the paratha!

Parathas are an unleavened Indian flat bread. They consist of a simple dough (flour, water and salt) folded in layers with ghee (clarified butter) or oil spread between the layers to keep them apart. They are often stuffed with tasty foods like mint, or potatoes or spinach. When they come to your table and you pull them apart, they have the most wonderful characteristic of being hundreds of tiny sheets of tasty bread already slathered in butter. And like naan, they are perfect for mopping up curry. Which takes me to another reason I wanted to try this new food. When I was in Singapore visiting family, I had an egg paratha for breakfast one morning. What got me was that the whole meal constituted one big, tasty paratha stuffed with an egg and a small bowl of very soupy curry sauce. And at the end of it I was full. This was different from any North American (or Kiwi) Indian food I had ever experienced, so I wanted to try it myself at home.

Which brings me to our tasty meal. Aloo parathas (potato parathas) served with lamb curry, lime pickle, mango chutney and yogurt. The recipe for the parathas was taken from my favorite source for Indian cookery - Manjula's kitchen (http://www.manjulaskitchen.com/). She has some great recipes with easy to follow videos. The lamb curry, essentially a side dish tonight, was found at the Asian Food Warehouse here in Christchurch and was much soupier than anything I'd made before, making it much more similar to the one I'd had in Singapore. But now, to the recipe.

Aloo Parathas (Potato parathas) - from Manjula's Kitchen

Dough

1 cup whole wheat flour

1/2 cup water

1 pinch of salf

Filling

1 1/2 cups of mashed potatoes (about 5 small or 3 large)

2 Tablespoons cilantro/coriander

1 fresh chili pepper, minced

1 teaspoon cumin seeds (or to taste)

1/2 teaspoon salt (or to taste)

1.Start by boiling the potatoes until just soft and ready for mashing. Drain, set aside and let cool to room temperature before mashing them.

2. Mix flour, water and salt until dough forms.

3. Dump out on counter and knead with oiled hands until soft (about 2 minutes).

4. Mash your now room temperature potatoes. Add all other filling ingredients and mix together.

5. Dump out onto counter and knead filling until everything is well mixed.

6. Break both the filling and the dough into 6 equal sized balls and set aside.

7. Take one dough ball and roll it out on a floured surface to the size to your palm.

8. Place a ball of filling into the middle of the disc and close the dough around the filling like you would a dumpling. Press it lightly to make a hockey puck shaped disc and set aside.

9. Repeat steps 7 and 8 for remaining 5 sets of dough and filling balls.

10. Place a cast iron pan on the stove and heat up at med-high.

11. Now take your first hockey puck dumpling, place it on a floured surface and roll out to the size of a dinner plate or whatever will fit in your pan.

12. Place your paratha into hot, dry pan and cook for about 30 seconds. Check to see if there are tiny brown spots forming on your cooking side and flip.

13. Smear the cooked side with about 1 teaspoon of oil and flip (when second side has started to brown).

14. Flip one more time to crisp up the second side and remove from pan.

15. Repeat steps 11 through 14 with the remaining hockey puck-dumplings-come-parathas.

Enjoy with a tasty curry of your choosing and any mix of pickles, chutneys and yogurt you prefer. See Manjula's recipe here (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZHqZlKrfbGg) for video instruction.

Cooking with Possum

Photo courtesy of http://richard-seaman.com/Mammals/Australia/index.html

Well, it's done. Last night I pulled the possum out of the fridge and wrestled it into a pie. As it baked away in the oven my stomach was in knots - would it be good, would it be ok, would it be edible? I had searched the internet to no avail and none the game recipe books at the library made any mention of possums, even in the sidebar. What was I to do? I had to make it up.

The one note I had read at the library mentioned that cooking game in wine helped reduce the chewiness that is often associated with game. So some wine, stock, juniper berries and sage all went into cooking the meat. Lovely strong flavours to complement the possum. And what to put with the possum? Well, kumera seemed like a good place to start, a semi-wild food as well, the sweetness of it might help balance the strong gamey flavour. Then carrots and beets, two tasty, earthy foods drenched in the gravy made from the stock liquid and wrapped in a flakey pastry crust. I mean, how does that not sound good? Oh yeah, possum.

While the pie cooked away in the oven I was also concerned with what I might serve it with. I'm used to meat pies, and game meats in general, being served with a delicious fruity chutney to contrast the richness of the meat. Unfortunately, all I had in the freezer were blackberries (another semi-wild food here) so they would have to do. I was surprised and a little hopeful at the glorious (and very rich) smells that were emanating from the kitchen - perhaps not all was lost.

After almost at hour in the oven, the crust was nicely browned and I wanted a taste, so I pulled it out of the oven and cut myself a piece. It certainly smelled good. I dropped some chutney on the plate beside it and tucked in.

It was delicious. Amazing. Very rich and tasty with pockets of sweet, earthy beets. Wow!

I took it next door where we were meeting with our neighbours and offered it out. There was certainly a poor reception to start, but once Stephen (he had to taste it - it was our dinner that night) said it was good, a few of the braver folk tasted it and came to similar conclusions. Yessss!!!

So I have attached the possum recipe here in case anyone else in the world decides one day to give it a go. I found about 4 different recipes on the internet (all involving lots and lots of chili peppers) so this will vastly improve the culinary choices for cooking with possum. I hope those of you who try it enjoy it as much as we did.

Awesome Possum Pie

*Note: make sure you have a freshly killed (ie., not poisoned, or diseased) possum and age it appropriately in a cool place. We left ours in the fridge for a good 3-4 days. Also, the fat on possums is not good, so remove as much as possible before cooking it.

Ingredients

1 small possum, skinned, cleaned and jointed

2 1/2 cups chicken stock

1 - 1 1/2 cups red wine, Merlot was good

10 juniper berries

4 sage leaves

water

6-8 kumera, depending on size

a knob of butter

a splash of milk

Salt and pepper to taste

2 carrots

3-4 small beets

Olive oil

~1 Tbsp. butter

~1Tbsp. flour (equivalent to however much butter you put in - you're making a roux)

Directions

1. While jointing the possum, try to remove as much of the thin film covering the meat as possible, this will save time later. Place in a stock pot with stock, wine, juniper berries and sage leaves and enough water to cover the meat. Bring to a boil, then reduce temperature and simmer covered for ~1 1/2 hours.

2. Peel and chop kumera, place in boiling water and cook until soft. Drain water and place pot back on stove (heat turned off, the element should still be warm), mash kumera with butter and milk until you desired consistency of mash is produced. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

3. Chop carrots into small cubes. Set aside.

4. Slice beets thinly and place on pan. Oil lightly and bake in oven at 200oC/400oF until soft, about 20 minutes.

5. Make flakey pastry of choice and chill in fridge.

6. Remove possum from pot, retaining stock liquid for later. Once the possum has cooled to touch, remove as much meat from the bones as possible and place it in a bowl. Discard bones.

7. Now, make the gravy. Place the butter in a pot and cook over medium heat. Once the butter has melted add the flour and stir until mixed. Keep stirring a little longer to toast the roux (this adds a little flavour and removes the floury taste). Add 3/4 - 1 cup of possum stock liquid (skim off the fat) and whisk until smooth. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly, and heat until the desired consistency is reached.

8. Add your meat and the carrots and beets, mix until everything is evenly coated. Pour into prepared crust. Spread the kumera mash over top and place in 200oC/400oF oven for 50-60 minutes, or until the crust is a nice golden brown. Remove and let cool for 5 minutes.

Best served with a lovely berry chutney. Mine was made with frozen blackberries (recipe at http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/2643/spicy-blackberry-chutney).

Enjoy!

PS. In New Zealand it is a widely known fact that possums are carriers of Bovine TB which humans can contract. However possums who contract this disease usually die within 6 months and are extremely rare to find (~2% chance of finding a possum carrying it). Other wild game, like deer, chamois and hare can also be carriers of this disease, but no one mentions this. . . .is there perhaps some bias here. To learn more, check out http://www.landcareresearch.co.nz/publications/infosheets/possums/possums_tb.pdf