all aboard for bun time

On the offchance that you don't have Easter-fatigue already, the hamster on the treadmill in your pancreas pulling muscles from scampering double-time to produce insulin to deal with the spike in sugar consumption...



I love baking with yeast and what with hot cross buns being a legit excuse to get things fermenting, I tend to make my own and have done for a while now. I repeated the hot cross buns I made last year, from Alison Holst's Dollars and Sense cookbook. While I admire Holst and what she's done for cooking in New Zealand, I'm not a great fan of her writing. Cannot fault her hot cross buns at all though - they're very straightforward to make, generously buttery, smell incredible while baking and taste brilliant. They don't keep like shop-bought ones but in the likely event of having stale leftovers you can make a completely life-changing bread and butter pudding out of them. Recipe: here!

Seriously. So good. All spicy and soft and full of the rich, yeasty scent of achievement at having kneaded the dough by hand. They come out a little flatter than their bought counterparts (all the more surface area for smearing butter over) and are lighter in colour, but truly far nicer than anything out of a plastic bag. You could use this recipe any old time of year minus the crosses to make spiced fruit buns. As making the crosses was really the most difficult thing about the process, I'd be happy to leave them off and enjoy these long after Easter has gone.

Last night - Easter Sunday - Tim and I went to So So Modern's launch for their new album Crude Futures at San Fransisco Bath House, one of the few places lit up along a quiet Cuba Street. They were supported by a whole mess of local talent, including the fantastically happy Alphabethead who we saw supporting Tourettes the other week (and whose mixtape I finally bought), Tommy Ill, who we disapointingly arrived too late for, and a bit of Diana Rozz, who I haven't formed an opinion on yet but...I liked the lighting during their set. For a while there in 2006 it seemed like we were going to So So Modern gigs every weekend, so there was a weirdly nostalgic feel seeing them again live. They gratifyingly mixed tunes old and new and seemed to be enjoying themselves. I bought a wooden laser-cut "Modern" badge (there were also "So", "Crude" and "Futures" badges for sale) which is rather sweet - a bit like something Millie Dillmount might wear to a job interview if she were alive and well in 2010 to signify her societal position to all who see it.

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Title brought to you by: Iggy Pop's droning yet strangely upbeat Funtime, from his Bowie-collaborating solo album The Idiot. "I don't need no heavy trips" insists Iggy. Of course, who would when there's hot cross buns fresh from the oven?

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Music while I type:

Speaking of 2006 - Fire Department by from Be Your Own Pet's eponymous debut album. I used to love this band back when I first moved to Wellington, but absolutely everyone I knew really hated them. Luckily for absolutely everyone, BYOP broke up. Their music is - was - all big and scrappy and not that clever but in that really clever way that makes a lot of other music sound comparitively laboured and overwrought. This is underwrought brilliance. So much so that heck, they get two songs on this list and you can have Take That Walk, from their Summer Sensation EP while you're at it.

Valentine by Delays from their album You See Colours. While revisiting 2006's self-conscious tunes I also stumbled across this which we used to thrash heartily. None of their further output really did anything for me but this song is such a delirious mess that nothing else is necessary.

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Next time: I got myself all hyped up about making hot cross buns and now with Easter behind me I'm not sure what direction I'll be heading in foodwise. You'll be the first to know though...

house of the rising bun

While in my last post I extolled the joys of the five-day Easter weekend, I spent this whole week at work scrambling to get up to speed with everything. Hence, my lack of presence round here. The intention was definitely there, but the time didn’t materialise. Anyway the upshot of this is that if the food blogging world was a party, my hot cross buns would be Kate Moss, arriving scandalously late and with a fabulous rockstar on their arm, making everyone else wish they’d dared to be so louche and devil-may-care.



At least that’s what I tell myself.

As well as my seasonal buns, you can also look forward to a surprising amount of cafe reviews and a little shoutout to myself for being born upon a particular day (yesterday, if you're wondering).

To provide a bit of context, I made my initial batch of hot cross buns on Easter Sunday. I’d just flown back to Wellington from Auckland where I saw The Winter’s Tale. It was a spellbinding production, for a three hour play it flew by and stellar performances were delivered by all, despite the fact that the theatre was far from full (cough ‘economic climate’ cough). I’ll be frank, I wasn’t wildly taken with Ethan Hawke’s Hamlet (and much less taken with Julia Stiles’ Ophelia) but in The Winter’s Tale he was fabulous, playing his character like the lovechild of Bob Dylan and Captain Jack Sparrow. But Shakespearean.

Before I went up to Auckland I scoured through my Cuisine magazines and sussed out where some fun foodie shops were so I could hunt them down and possibly part company with a business card or two for my blog while spending time and money therein. The fates (and possibly stupidity) were against me as I just couldn’t find a bus to Mt Eden, where said shops were located. I can’t say it served to endear the city to me, however I did spend a happy hour or so at the art gallery taking in the delightful Yinka Shonibare exhibition.

I also met a friend at Alleluya Cafe in St Kevin's Arcade on Karangahape Road. Apparently it is the sort of place that attracts the sort of people that attracts the sort of words like "hipster" and "scene", but it wasn't intimidatingly so when I arrived on Saturday afternoon. My coffee, a long black, didn't arrive but the guy behind the counter looked so shocked - nay, crestfallen, when I told him I'd been waiting for a while that I didn't harbour any animosity, especially when it finally arrived with a complimentary biscotti and was the smoothest, mellowest black coffee I've had in forever. My friend and I shared a slice of lemon yoghurt cake, which was pleasant, and a piece of Jewish ginger cake, which was way good and still haunts my dreams a week later.

Alleluya Cafe
St Kevin's Arcade, K'Rd, Auckland CBD
09-377 8424
Verdict: Ignore the sneaking suspicion that you're not cool enough to be there because the coffee is gorgeous and it was worth the plane fare for that Jewish ginger cake alone.

Back in familiar Wellington and on a Shakespeare high, I got stuck into the joyful task of making hot cross buns following Nigella’s recipe from Feast. Everything was going well until the final hurdle. I burnt the sodding things. Considering they took the better part of the afternoon I was mightily unhappy, but I could only blame myself for letting them bake for too long.

Having said that it took only a bare amount of convincing to make another batch the next day. Upon closer inspection the burnt buns were still salvageable – I cut off and discarded all the severely blackened parts, bagged the lot up and put it in the freezer, where they will one day become the base of a warm, spicy bread and butter pudding. I can’t wait. For round two I tried an Alison Holst recipe, partly because I was intrigued by her method and partly because there’s something suspiciously trustworthy about her.

Hot Cross Buns

As I said, the method is a little unusual but don’t be scared – it’s seriously easy and the finished buns have a marvellous texture.

1 cup milk
½ cup hot water
2 T sugar
4 tsps/1 sachet active dried yeast
2 cups high grade strong bread flour
100g soft butter
½ cup brown sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon salt
1 T mixed spice
1 T cinnarmon
1 t ground cloves
1 cup currants/sultanas
2-3 cups high grade strong bread flour

Place the first four ingredients into a large bowl, making sure that the liquid is neither too warm nor too cold before you add the yeast. Stir in the first measure of flour, cover the bowl with plastic wrap, and leave in a warm place to rise. This won’t take a heck of a long time – maybe half an hour.

Meanwhile, cream the butter and sugar together, add the egg, salt, spices and dried fruit. Following a suggestion of Nigella’s I added some cardamom seeds here which worked beautifully. The spices get really diluted in the dough so don’t worry about the fact that the measurements look large. When the original mixture has doubled in size and is looking spongy, mix in the fruit mixture and the second measure of flour. Knead till it comes together in a springy ball, then form into 16-24 buns. Arrange on a paper-lined tray, cover with plastic wrap and leave to rise, which they should do significantly. Don’t leave them for too long – trust your eyes.
Alison recommends a mixture of flour, butter and water rolled into thin strips for the crosses but I found that they tended to fall off after baking. Anyway, brush the buns with milk and lay the crosses o’er them. Bake uncovered at 225 C for 10-12 minutes till browned lightly.



Well Alison, you win this time. These hot cross buns were immensely delicious, filling the kitchen, as with many kitchens across the world, with a warm, cinnamony scent, like a hug in perfume form. I flagrantly added a handful of chocolate chips to the dough and...I liked it. A lot.



Needless to say, they were at their best still warm from the oven and liberally buttered. I'm thinking this recipe is definitely a keeper and would like to make these buns in other forms - without the crosses - throughout the year, as the basic recipe is too good to keep confined to one day in April.

Speaking of one day in April, yesterday was my birthday and I gotta say, I didn’t have high expectations. I almost forgot that it was coming up – it felt as though it was a shadowy date in the vague distance as opposed to being on the immediate agenda – and I’ve had a hearty cough getting the better of me this week, not to mention the fact that I was working. Nevertheless it turned out to be one of the nicest self-anniversaries I’ve had in a long time. Everyone at work was lovely – there were balloons and flowers on my desk, a coffee appeared out of nowhere, I was taken out to lunch and a homemade banana cake replete with candles was produced at the beginning of a three hour meeting in the afternoon, all completely unexpectedly. Extended family members from home sent me a kitchen blowtorch, which I’m quite wild to use on a crème brulee pronto, I had cards sent from dad and my great-aunty, and there were text-messages a-plenty. Mum, who is in Argentina, put a video of her charming classroom singing Happy Birthday to me in Spanish and English. With all of that it’s amazing I wasn’t weeping sentimentally the whole day. In case you are wondering, I am now 23, which is hopefully still young enough to be 'interesting' as a food blogger.

After work Tim and I bought a bottle of cheap red and found this adorable middle Eastern BYO called Casablanca to quaff it in. The service was perfect, the food was cheap, plentiful and fast, and the atmosphere was delightful. It’s not very fancy, but it’s fun, and the food tastes comfortingly home-made as opposed to assembled. A small plate of complimentary bread and dips appeared after we sat down, and we were asked if we were ready for our mains to be made after we finished our starters, both nice little touches that made the dining experience that much better. I wish I’d had my camera to take a photo of my taboulleh which was particularly delicious – full of verdant, fresh parsely and juicy tomato.

Casablanca
18 Cambridge Tce (off Courtenay Place)
Wellington CBD
04-384 6968
Verdict: It's not the Logan Brown but it's probably more fun (unless some kind benefactor wants to shout me dinner there and refute this opinion). The menu could charitably be described as succinct, but what's there is nicely done. I can definitely see myself returning.

From there we spent a significant amount of time at one of my favourite haunts in town, a themed bar called Alice, tucked away down an unassuming side road off Tory Street. You tunnel through a quiet, curtained corridor and emerge into a softly-lit, split level room which seeks to recreate some kind of Alice in Wonderland experience. The drinks are expensive but classy and potent, and you can make them worth your while if you get one of the cocktails for two which comes in a teapot. The bar is much lower than the floor itself which adds to the surreal effect and there are framed illustrations from the novel and distorted mirrors everywhere. I’m not describing it very well but it’s a great place to sit for hours having cosy discussions about things that seem very important at the time, which is exactly what we did.

After concluding that the only way we’d get away with sitting there any longer would be to spend a small fortune on another cocktail, we decided to hightail it out of there for a fortifying coffee. I have to say, betraying my country village background maybe, that personally there is something hugely exciting about getting a coffee or a bite to eat late at night – it makes me feel deliciously sophisticated and worldly, and of course by being so excited about it instantly renders me distinctly un-sophisticated. But there you have it. We chose to patronise Deluxe, which is apparently something of a Wellington institution. It has so far always passed me by, because it’s only fairly recently that I’ve had more of an income to spend recklessly on coffee from funky cafes.

Deluxe is hugely popular in Wellington, even at 11.00pm we had to strain to find a table. I’ll be honest, our coffee wasn’t the best I’ve ever had, but I suspect this was due to the fact that it was late at night and we’d had a couple of drinks and were therefore perhaps not a priority for quality control. Which is a shame, if this is true, but it’s better than the idea that their coffee is generally below average, yes? I’ve certainly had worse, and the delicious chocolate brownie that Tim and I shared raised our opinion of the place. We sat there for about half an hour, pretending to be hipsters as we drank our late night black coffee and chuckled over the pithy content in Vice magazine. I think I’ll definitely try Deluxe again, as 11.00pm on a Friday night is hardly condusive to a thorough, well thought critique of a café.

Deluxe
10 Kent Terrace (Next to the glorious Embassy Theatre)
04 801 5455
Verdict: This place probably is too cool for us, but that won't stop me returning to give it a proper scrutiny. As it is, my opinion doesn't matter since it is constantly packed with customers.

This morning Tim and I met with our friend Dr-to-be Scotty at Roxy Café. I hastily snapped some photos of what we ate, the images aren’t great but the food was. Special mention must be made about the hash browns, which were large, crunchy without and deliciously potato-ey within, and quite the nicest that I’ve had in a long time. Good friends and hash browns is a winning combination and we had a lovely morning talking smack with Scott.



Above: My French Toast with fresh fruit (and I ordered a hash brown on the side.) The toast itself was great, and generous at three pieces, although I felt that the chopped apple, pear and banana that made up the bulk of my "fresh fruit" was a little cheap, could they not have stretched to a stone fruit or something? The hash brown was fantastic.



Above: Tim and Scott ordered big breakfasts with extra hash browns. According to Tim his poached egg was perfect, and of course you already know about the hash browns at this place. Although I was comfortably full after my meal, I found myself looking wistfully at the small but intriguing lunch menu, which features some delicious sounding choices. The service was fine, I like that they brought out a carafe of water right away, and the cafe itself was a cool and airy respite from the heat of the outside world this morning.

Roxy Cafe
203-205 Cuba St
Wellington City
04-890 3939
www.roxycafe.co.nz
Verdict: All I can think about right now is their hash browns. This place is very nice and I'd definitely like to try it out again, the pricing is pretty reasonable so this shouldn't be an issue. They get an extra star for serving butter on a little dish with the big breakfasts. This sort of behaviour is to be encouraged.
If you made it through all that then congratulations. And I mean really reading it, not just looking at the pictures. There's gold in them thar paragraphs.

Next time: While up in Auckland I bought a fabulous Italian cookbook which I've already delved into and of course you know how excited I am about my kitchen blowtorch. I forsee a creme brulee on the horizon...

Pink Goes Good With Grain

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If anyone can tell me what is behind the (admittedly forced) pun in my title you win a million dollars.

Not. But, I would be kinda tickled if anyone can work it out.

Mum got me a bag of quinoa - something which I have, nerdily, been quite wild to try for some time now. I never thought I'd come across something more virtuous than lentils, but here I am. Life sure can take you on some interesting journeys. The Incans called quinoa the "mother of all grains" and are you going to argue with that recommendation? It contains forty squillion different vitamins and minerals and has more protein than any other non-meat product, and with all this you'd expect it to be kind of high maintenance, right? But no, a two year old could cook it. All you have to do is let it simmer for ten minutes, no pre-soaking or anything. As if all that weren't thrilling enough, it actually tastes really good. Closest in texture to couscous, but much lighter, it has a somewhat nutty flavour which lends itself nicely to having chunks of roasted vegetables folded through...

Of course, adding roasted beetroot instantly turned the entire bowl of quinoa bright pink. Also in the mix was roasted carrot, walnuts, chopped spinach, and a perhaps-slightly-toooo-generous spoonful of ras-el-hanout. I thought about drizzling in some olive oil but the quinoa is so light and fluffy that I didn't want it to be bogged down with gluggy oil.



Above: I did something very similar with some wholewheat pasta - more roasted beetroot, spinach, etc, but this time I included some mashed cloves of roasted garlic. The sweet nuttiness of the beetroot complemented the nuttiness of the pasta (I really need a new synonym to describe nuttiness huh?) and the garlic was a perfect addition. Again, as soon as I gave it a stir, the whole lot turned irrevocably, gaudily...pink.

Above: Once more - with organic burghal wheat. You probably don't need me to point it out, but this inexplicably became tinted the pinkest of them all, which contrasted pleasingly with the snowy feta (added at the VERY last minute here for photographic purposes.) After that I kind of cooled it on the beetroot front but look, they're really cheap and good for you, okay? And sometimes you have to take what you can get.

So it has been a bit of a wholegrain orgy in my kitchen lately. I know I'm smitten with them, but trust me, they're more alluring than their earnest, hessian-weave image would suggest. And it's not all roasted beetroot, for example, witness rolled oats cleverly disguised as pancakes...

I made these following an old recipe of Alison Holsts's. It doesn't make a lot, so is suited nicely to a cosy, lazy Sunday breakfast for two. They are surprisingly filling, but aren't stodgy or lumpen at all.

Oaty Pancakes

3/4 cup rolled oats

3/4 cup milk

1/2 cup flour

1 t baking powder

1 egg

2 T sugar

2 T butter, melted

Pour the milk over the rolled oats in a good sized bowl, and leave to sit for 5-10 minutes, perhaps while you potter round getting the rest of the ingredients. Stir in the rest of the ingredients without overmixing, and add a little more milk to slacken if the batter looks too stiff. I did. I also melted the butter in the pan I planned on cooking the pancakes in, before tipping it into the batter (thus saving on dishes! Like a true student.) These work best as smallish cakes, about the size of one of Jennifer Lopez' hoop earrings circa 2002 (meow!) and need flipping once bubbles appear. Don't leave them for too long though as the bubbles aren't as obvious with all those oats in the way. Eat however you want, with butter, with golden syrup, whatever.

All these various foods - oats, quinoa, burghal wheat, wholewheat pasta - are not only delicious they are also incredibly good for you. They are filling - when I used to have toast for breakfast I would not only be intensely hungry at lunch, I would also have that horrible empty-head-empty-stomach feeling. This is why I eat so much of them: So that I don't end up buying chocolate bars at 10.00am, and so that I don't feel bad about the big ol' chocolate cake that I made this afternoon (and will blog about soon...)

In other news, I'm really enjoying all my papers so far this term. I may not feel that way when I'm wading neck-deep through assignments but so far, so enjoyable...however I am being positively haunted by advertising for Wicked in Melbourne, even long-suffering Tim pointed out a poster in excitement to me before - "oh" - realising it's an Australian performance. Nevermind, these things all happen when they're supposed to and it wouldn't be so bad to see it in the West End even if I have to wait a while...Speaking of Broadway I am currently in love with the Spring Awakening soundtrack, if you don't mind a little salty language and teenage angst the songs are utterly gorgeous.

Like A Rolling Scone

Sure, New Zealand has the Fiordlands, and the Franz Josef Glacier, and well, the whole South Island, but really as far as cities go, I truly think Wellington is the best we have to offer. If any bands or singers are reading this, (I'm looking at you, Joan Wasser and Jack White) don't bother playing in Auckland. Sure it has a million inhabitants, but Wellington has genuine charm and a dense concentration of everything essential for a travelling roadshow - eateries, drunkeries, and self-conscious hipsters. As a pink-cheeked country gal, I still find living in the city rather thrilling. Though, I know I've become acclimatised because I have developed a special look of cold, steely hatred reserved solely for those miscreants who dare to walk on the wrong side of the footpath at 5pm. Yes, there is a wrong side.

But as well as charm in bucket-fountain-loads, Wellington also has wind. I felt like the sorry love child of Dorothy Gale and Nanook of the North yesterday as the wind literally manhandled me to work , my 12 coats flapping about and - I kid you not (though I was kidding about the 12 coats) - my iPod headphones flew out of my ears. Yes, it's windy here.

Where am I going with this? Frankly, nowhere. I just felt like complaining about the weather.




Our flat is close-ish to some local shops, one of which is a small but charming deli, where I bought a crumbly wedge of cloth-aged cheddar on Saturday. The deli boasts an enticing range of cheeses, meats, cakes, and other sundry items - gluten free pasta, quinoa, nifty olive oils, you know the sort of thing I mean. The girl behind the counter not only accepted my business cards graciously, she also suggested quince as a good pairing and gave me a small piece of the cheese to sample before I purchased it. If you ever find yourself meandering aimlessly on Upland Road, thinking "where on earth can I spend my money" may I suggest you stop in here? It's the only deli on the street, so you can't miss it.



As it happened I had some of Nigella's quince glaze still knocking about in the fridge, which would provide a sweet contrast to the sharp, tangy cheese. To provide a third contrasting flavour, I whipped up some oaty scones, based on Alison Holst's basic recipe, from her Dollars and Sense cookbook that my brother got me for Christmas. I added some extra bits - oats, bran, poppyseeds - and was hoping they wouldn't end up all lumpen and horrible but they turned out very fluffy and light.

Alison Holst's Scones...ish.

I got seven good sized scones out of this. I never roll the dough out, just scoop up a scone-sized lump with a spoon. Makes for the least amount of handling and has constantly given me light scones...Could be that I'm too lazy to break out the rolling pin though.

2 cups self-raising flour
2 t sugar (optional)
25-50g butter (guess which I went for?)
1/2 cup milk
1/4 cup water


Heat oven to 200 C. Rub the butter, flour, and sugar (if using, and I used a squirt of golden syrup added with the milk instead) together in a bowl until there are no large lumps of butter. Here I added a handful of bran, a handful of quick-cook oats, and a tablespoon of poppyseeds. Pour in the liquid all at once, and carefully stir till everything is sticky. Careful not to overmix. Put good sized spoonfuls (which I pat into a uniform shape) onto a baking-paper lined tray and bake for about 20 minutes.




Above: The three components worked together fabulously. This particular cheese really is very intense, but there was almost something addictive about the salty astringent cheddar and sweet, sweet quince glaze together. The nutty solidness of the scones provided a calming background to this. Or something. It made for a delightful and elegant supper. I began thinking of other ways I could eat this cheddar- perhaps with maple syrup, a handful of walnuts, and a crisp apple...oatcakes, a smear of honey, and slices of pear...Tim really liked it too, which surprised but pleased me, as his tastes can be a little more conservative than mine. I'll never forget our terse, lengthy debate over the differences betweeen olive and canola oil....



Above: The scones were also terriff with slowly-melting butter pooling in their oaty crevices. Expense be damned, happiness is a warm scone.

By the way, we - Tim, Katie, Emma, Scott (our fabulous doctor friend) and I watched the first episode of Outrageous Fortune Season 4 on TV3 last night. Friends, it was sublime. Tip o' the old cap to TV3 for managing to hold on to this gem. Cheryl is as awe-inspiring as ever, and Wolf is back in a big way, which means that Katie and I are constantly having mad palpitations of the heart. Kudos on the producers' choice of child to play Loretta's baby - she really is a cutie. The episode started off solidly and then built to sheer gloriousness. The only thing that stings is the lack of Judd, for goodness' sake come back to Cheryl and don't get back with Glen or whatever your ex-wife's name is. That is one plot trajectory that we all roundly agreed would result in boycotting (okay not really, but definitely in fists being shook.) For those of you overseas, I offer a patronising, pitying smile, because you are missing out on TV GOLD. Did you know you can buy it on DVD through Fishpond? Ugh, I'm sorry. (But really, it's a fact.)

However, you don't have to live in New Zealand to see this interview with Van/Jethro actor and possibly the best looking famous man in New Zealand, Anthony Starr. (I can't pretend I've never found an All Black attractive - there was the short-lived Doug Howlett frenzy of 2003 - but really, look outside the square, people.) I've said it once before but it bears repeating; during scenes with Van and Jethro together, he has chemistry with himself.




Above: As you may have noticed I'm having a bit of a fling with poppy seeds at the moment, I just want to put them in everything for some reason. Luckily Tim and I are way past that "maintain a sense of mystery stage" so I don't have to worry about the dreaded poppy-seeds-in-the-teeth situation arising, with people delicately pretending to ignore it and then you find out three days later what's happened (inevitably meeting every possible person you don't want to see in the process.) It's the culinary equivalent of hoisting your skirt into your pantyhose (and I've so been there too...)

Erm, anyway I had this idea of incorporating poppy seeds and my Boyajian orange oil into a shortbread recipe. Then I thought that adding a spoonful of raspberry jam would be cool. But I also wasn't sure if it would be a socking great disaster, so in a surprisingly scientific move (from someone pathetically bad at science) I divided the dough into three, leaving a "control" group of plain shortbread so that if my dabbling in experimentation went wrong, I'd at least have a small pile of edible biscuits.

They were all delicious! I couldn't be bothered coming up with a base recipe of my own, since most shortbread recipes are much of a muchness anyway - hey, I have Scottish heritage, don't go getting up in arms - so I used Nigella's basic recipe - 200g butter and flour, half that of icing sugar and cornflour - and did nothing to the control group save a dusting of vanilla sugar. For the orange and poppyseed biscuits I added half a teaspoon orange oil (it's potent stuff!) and rolled the cylinder of dough in poppyseeds. For the raspberry orange poppyseed biscuits I added orange oil, a tablespoon of poppyseeds, and two tablespoons of Tim's diabetic-friendly raspberry jam (which is so much better than most commercial jams, because it's way fruitier.)

Fun and educational!




Above: Shortbread, three ways. There's probably an off-colour joke in there somewhere, but I'm too lazy, or perhaps not lazy enough, to think it up.

I'm not sure if it's good news or not but Tim managed to scrape together enough money through various loans to cover the costs of his dental work (appointment this afternoon!) but they will need to be paid off which is kind of worrying especially when we're trying to save. Seriously, these dentists better be giving him some diamond-plated grillz or something for what they're charging. Anyway, Tim and I got all righteous and "damn the man!" and wrote letters to both the Minister of Health (David Cunliffe) and the Minister of Tertiary Education (Pete Hodgson). We asked the hard questions - actually they're not that hard, seriously, how do these people get paid so well to make so many illogical decisions - and I hope we get a reply. A thought-out, not automated reply. But think nice, anethatised thoughts for Tim this afternoon as his teeth get prodded. Whatever we have for dinner tonight, I'm guessing it's going to have to come in puree form...
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Overheard in our kitchen:

Tim: These carrot sticks are really nice.
Me: Cool.
Tim: What'd you do to them?
Me: Put them in the bowl that the pork fat had been in.
Tim: Ohh...

Rainy Day Woman

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Today - Saturday - was just as wet and miserable as last weekend. Luckily I love rainy weekends - cosying up with a blanket, becoming engrossed in a book, lazily browsing the internet...However with breakfast and lunch lamentably comprising only of Chocolate Guinness Cake, I forced myself to leave the house to get some fresh air, and found myself at Moore Wilson's. Wherein I bought some organic buttermilk, some feta, a tub of white miso paste, and two quinces.

Above: Oh! You pretty things. I love quinces. In New Zealand now is the time for them, so grab one if you can. They are impossible to find year-round, absolutely rock hard and have to be cooked very slowly but their incredible fragrance and sweetness makes it worth the effort. Nigella has a whole swag of recipes for this particular fruit so I look forward to trying something new.

I got back to the flat in an advanced state of saturation. My $4 Kmart white canvas sandshoes (that are now rather fashionable and you can't get them cheaply anymore) are on their last legs, and were completely filled with water. So, after getting out of my miserably drenched clothes I decided to make a warming curry for dinner, filled with vegetables and even some soul-soothing lentils to counteract the day's cake-eating. (That's a little misleading actually - I assure you, I did put some more clothes on before starting on the curry. I think the world only needs one Naked Chef...)

Pumpkin Curry For a Rainy Saturday

This is a very gentle and mild - no chilli at all, come to think of it - so if your tastebuds are made of stronger stuff than mine, by all means add as much chilli as you dare.

1/2 a pumpkin, chopped into large dice

1 T butter

1 onion, diced

3 cloves garlic, chopped finely

1 red capsicum, diced

2 tomatoes, diced

2 T tomato paste

1 t ground cinnamon

2 t cumin seeds

1 t ground ginger

1/4 cup red lentils

1/2 cup coconut milk

1/2 t garam masala

Melt the butter in a decent sized saucepan. Stir the onion, garlic, cinnamon, cumin seeds, and ginger together over a gentle heat till the onion is soft, but not browned. Add the tomatoes and paste (or if this is too much of a pain, just half a tin of chopped tomatoes) and the capsicum, and let this cook for a bit. Tip in your orange chunks of pumpkin, and then add 250mls water to the pan. You might need more depending on the size of your pan, you want the pumpkin pieces half-submerged in the water. Bring this to the boil then lower the heat and simmer till the pumpkin is nearly tender. At this stage add the lentils, and a bit more water - about half a cup. Simmer till the lentils have disappeared into the sauce. Finally add the coconut milk and the garam masala. Don't let it boil at this stage. Serve over rice. This will feed 2 or three people. Just add a bit more of everything if you have more people over.

Above: I served it over brown rice, which is not so hard to cook as people think. This is the method I use: bring a pot of water to the boil, tip in a cup of brown rice, boil the living heck out of it for about 15 minutes or till it's soft but firm, then drain. It barely takes longer than white rice. The curry itself was warm and inviting, the perfect thing to be eating by the greedy bowlful with this inhospitable rain beating against the windows.

Above: I made this quick pizza for dinner the other night, using a recipe of my paternal grandmother's that I found whilst browsing through a folder of recipe clippings that I compiled as a teenager. I don't think she was that much of a 'foodie' - for all I know she may never have actually made this recipe - but it is still meaningful to me that I got her cookbooks and bits and pieces. This particular recipe involves melting butter and frying in it garlic, diced tomato and sliced courgettes, and I assume it is supposed to be a side dish. Well I made it one night, and was so taken with the simple but delicious flavours, that I had to make it again, and soon. On Thursday night, having made it for the second time, I spread it thickly over a scone dough base (the recipe of which I found in Alison Holst's Dollars and Sense, which my brother got me for Christmas) topped it frugally with cheese, baked it, and ate it whilst watching Coronation Street on telly, which Katie has got me back into. I see that Gail Platt is as depressing as she was last time I was into this show -rather comfortingly, some things never change.

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We are having something of a David Bowie Renaissance in the flat - his songs are just so densely brilliant that they don't lose any gloss with repeat (and I mean repeat) listenings. Just try not to hug the next person on the street you see after listening to Modern Love - possibly the greatest song of all time (along with all the other greatest songs of all time.)

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It is just Tim and I in the flat tonight - Paul is in town, Katie and Stefan are in Napier, and Emma has trotted down to Dunedin. I'm trying to convince Tim that watching Rent would be the perfect way to end a rainy Saturday...but I think we might end up compromising with Green Wing, Season 1. Eh, either way I win!

Update: We actually watched some Black Books instead. Whenever I watch this show...I sort of wish I actually was Bernard Black, just for a bit.

Across The Universe-ity

No more Shakespearian quotes for a spell, as I am instead to consume myself with The Duchess of Malfi. And not avoid it to have Tetris Tournaments with Tim and Paul (I'm winning!) So far uni is going well, although my skirt blew over my head yesterday just as a bus was pulling into the campus and I couldn't for the life of me explain the concept of "number eight wire" during my media lecture...



Above: On Saturday night I made this quick pizza, using a scone-base recipe from Alison Holst's Dollars and Sense cookbook. This is a great stand-by recipe, very fast to make. I couldn't live from this cookbook alone but, well, someone could.

Quick Scone Dough Pizza Base

2 cups flour
2 t baking powder
1 T oil
1/2 cup (125mls) milk

Sift dry ingredients into a bowl, stir in oil and milk, and mix to form a dough. Roll out onto a greased tray, (this rolls out very easily), cover with your desired toppings (tomato paste and cheese in my case) and bake at 220 C for 15-20 minutes.

That night Tim and I got very drunk, and met up with Emma, her friend Scott, and Paul in town. Sunday morning, natch, was a complete write-off. By Sunday afternoon though, I was feeling up for something cultural and so trekked across the waterfront to see the Philharmonic Orchestra give a free performance of famous film scores (You know, Harry Potter, Psycho, that movie with swords in it, etc.) It was thoroughly enjoyable but after a while it started to rain heavily which brought things to a halt. And made for an awful walk home. Yeh I was wearing a skirt again. I think that's how the weather knows when to be rainy and windy.



Above: By the time Sunday evening rolled gently around, I wanted to eat something healthy, in order to pretend that it would erase the previous night's excesses (and okay, we had McDonalds for breakfast.) So I came up with this Thai Beef Salad. It's not entirely original, in that anyone probably could have thought of it, but I wanted to do something different with mince - use it in a more elegant way. This is basically mince, onion, capsicum, fish sauce, lemon juice and sesame oil, cooked together and tossed with some of those pre-packed salad leaves that make EVERYTHING look like you've made an effort.



Above: Pasta with Beurre Rouge. Last night, our vegetarian ex-flatmate Ange came round to watch Fame (which I finally found, for $10 at Real Groovy! Kapow!) and I cooked her some dinner as well. In a self-absorbed kinda way, the entire meal was based around my recipes - the Miso-Honey Roasted Parsnips, the Carrot and Zucchini Salad, and something new - Spaghetti with Beurre Rouge. Now it's not actually an authentic French dish, it's just something I had an idea for, (as I was about to fall asleep the other night), a kind of tomato-flavoured Beurre Blanc. Hence the name.

I reduced Vermouth with some garlic, simmered it with tomato passata, and whisked in some butter, pouring it over cooked pasta. Here's the flummoxing thing though. I absolutely LOVED it, thought it was the best thing I've ever come up with (I know I say this every time) while Tim just thought it was...nice.
Which totally confused me. Had I actually come up with something good? So I'm going to make it again tonight, just to make sure I wasn't imagining how great it was...or that Tim is completely demented. Ange loved it, which helped my bruised ego somewhat. I shouldn't stress too much, this thing happened the first time I made him listen to "Needle and The Damage Done," come to think of it...

For once: not Nigella.

Apologies in advance if this post is a little lacklustre - have just watched a lot of telly and am pretty tired.

I have a difficult time staying consistently 'healthy' in my eating habits. I'll do pilates, have some soymilk, and then follow it up with a buttered chocolate bar. Okay, I'm joking...barely. Last night's dinner was a good enough example of this - salad and lentil soup (healthy) with homemade mince pies (unhealthy.) However, in my opinion, as long as there are lots of vegetables and other good things present, it can't be too bad.

The lentil soup came from Alison Holst's Dollars And Sense cookbook. I have no snarky comments to make - it was great soup, very easy and made from stuff I had in the cupboard. Yet another reminder of why this book is worth reading over.

Above: Lentils, vegetables, spices, water - this pretty much cancels out buttery pastry...right?

So taken was I with the beetroot and feta tarts that I thought I would make the pastry shells again and fill them with (much cheaper) mince to make a kind of homespun Big Ben pie, if you will. As you can see I got a little excited with the leftover pastry scraps...

Above: Twinkle, twinkle little pie...These were not just a pretty picture, they tasted rather lovely too. I could only manage one (my pie tin makes four) probably because I'd eaten too much pastry while making them, but Tim snarfed his down. He had my second one for breakfast this morning and said it was the best he'd ever had. Well, I guess anything beats Weet-bix (to which I have a particular aversion.)

Finally, balancing this out was a salad of beans, cucumber, and our old friends feta and walnuts. I didn't have cucumber so replaced it with fennel, quelle surprise! This recipe comes from the New Zealand cookbook, and is a fabulous combination with a lovely lemony dressing. Tim and I hoovered it up in about ten seconds - it's very more-ish.

Above: Hopefully everyone isn't sick of seeing things scattered in feta and walnuts...

Dinner tonight was something I've been craving all day- a vast pot of pasta. I don't know if there is Italian blood coursing through my veins somewhere but few things make me happier than pasta. Of course, creamy cheese-laden pasta dishes are a lot easier to love than the more austere tomato sauce that we had tonight, yet it was still richly flavoured and filling and all those other good things. I based the sauce on a Moroccan recipe in The Accidental Vegetarian, which adds cinnamon, cumin and tumeric to give aromatic depth. I biffed in a handful of red lentils and let them simmer away into nothing. It was delicious! I suppose it didn't help that I ate half a packet of wine gums while watching America's Next Top Model (oh the irony!)

Above: Made with canned tomatoes for 60c from Kmart! Tip for the wise: never buy your canned tomatoes from the supermarket, they are much cheaper at Kmart or the Warehouse. By the way...I crumbled some feta over the pasta, as you can probably see, but hastily stirred it through so it wouldn't be a focal point of this picture.

Right, am off to bed now: being crosseyed and dozy does not make for a sparklingly witty blog.

A Steaming Mishap, and late-night brownies.

I got home from work a bit early yesterday, and convinced myself that it was cold enough to use my steamer (it was quite mild outside really.) In my Supersavers book, there is a recipe for what looks like steamed, deconstructed, spag bol. That is, you cook some short pasta (I did macaroni, as the book recommended) add mince, canned tomatoes, frozen beans, dried thyme, garlic and an egg. Put it in your pudding steamer and steam for two hours. I was smitten not only because I got to steam something again, but also because miraculously, we had the exact ingredients required. So, two episodes of Season 1 Outrageous Fortune later, (did I mention that we bought the DVD and are rapturously pleased with it?) it was ready. I served it with the remaining asparagus, which I roasted, as per a suggestion of Nigella's in How To Eat. If you are a fan of asparagus, PLEASE try this! It is wonderful! Just a 220 C oven, a tablespoon of olive oil, 15 minutes, and then sprinkle it with a little salt. It is nutty and slightly crispy and absolutely fantastic. Second only to asparagus rolls (on white bread with canned asparagus) for my favourite way of eating it.

Anyway...maybe I didn't grease the pudding bowl enough (didn't grease it at all, come to think of it) but the steamed mince thingy really didn't unmould well - only half of it, as you can see below, came out. No matter - it's not what you would call a 'photogenic' dish and I'm sure that it would have looked ugly even if it had turned out properly!

Above - Half of our dinner. The other half is still in the steamer...

Well, it tasted good, which was the important thing, but I don't see how a combination of its ingredients could really go wrong. And it did seem like the exact sort of recipe you could expect to find in a book called "Supersaver's." It benefited from salt, and it could have definitely been improved with some cheese. But, cheese is expensive and grating is a pain, so we don't often eat it frivolously. As you know, the asparagus was amazing.

Emma was babysitting last night, and Kieran, Stefan, Tim and I were all watching Outrageous Fortune. (pausing only to switch off the DVD and turn to Prime for Flight of the Conchords) Somewhere in the middle of this, I got a real hankering for some kind of pudding. Problem was, time was ticking on. Suddenly I decided to make something I used to do a lot as a youngster - Alison Holst's chocolate brownies. Now, I'm not teeerribly fond of La Holst (she does seem to take the fun out of cooking) but as I said, I am very familiar with these brownies and knew they'd do the trick. I used the Dollars And Sense cookbook that Mum gave me some years back (a book filled with many gems actually) and got Tim to help me round up ingredients so as to get it going faster.

It is very easy, one of those wonderful one-pot melt and mix recipes that leave you with a minimum of washing up! No fancy ingredients required, but I added some chopped dark chocolate (had a bit lying round in the cupboard.) We put it in the oven, and halfway through another episode of Outrageous Fortune, they were ready. Not as densely squidgy and delicious as Nigella's, but good for a quick fix, and much cheaper. You can see below what was left of them!

Above: Brownies, made in a silicone tin (can it still be called a tin if it's made of silicone?) that Tim's parents gave me.