Peachy

I spent what is now the summer before last in Central Otago. The predominate association with Central Otago, for me anyway, is none other than it's divine Pinot noir. However, while I spent my days amidst the vines, my flatmates spent their days in the fruit packhouses of Alexandra, Cromwell, Clyde and Roxburgh.

Not that I didn't benefit from their toil. A few of the packhouses allow some fruit (that is for one reason or another unsuitable for shipping) to make its way back to the flats of the seasonal workers. Of course, we ate much of it fresh but there were also desserts.. courtesy of the communal Edmond's Cookbook. Even though many of the girls returned to ovenless apartments in Taiwan, there were still several copies of this New Zealand institution packed securely for the trip.

On days off (Waitangi Day) and weekends, various puddings were made (crumbles, sauces and cakes.. no fruit dessert was left out) regardless of the soaring Central temperatures! Thankfully, two good swimming holes on the Manuherikia were close by for a refreshing dip. There was, however, one evening near the middle of February, that was unseasonally cool. We'd had rain that day and when the humidity dropped, it left the evening feeling more like late autumn than summer. Now, I'm usually thinking about food and food projects but it was a girl from Japan who actually got me to (seriously) thinking about making jam. All she said was how she wished that she could take some fruit home with her. And of course, that's entirely possible. In the form of peach jam.

After a trip to New World for sugar, pectin crystals and a box of jars, we got to the business of peeling and dicing and washing and sterilising, all the while thinking about scones, pancakes and toast. Then, assembly line style, we made 4 small batches of the most gloriously golden peach jam (infused with a bit of ginger). We each got 3 jars (heavy little tokens from summer in Central) and a small pottle we put in the fridge for eating straight away.

Scones anyone?

French toast and grilled peaches

Something about bright colours and breakfast. I had some leftover wholemeal bread that I always use for french toast and I'd been thinking about using a punnet of blueberries to enhance some maple sirup. However after getting a look at the baskets of peaches covering endless tabletops at the market this morning, I had other ideas. It is getting toward the end of peach season so there are always a few that are perfect for the grill.

French toast at our house takes many forms depending on the season. Varying from a simple, weekend treat with fruit and sirup to a more elaborate stuffed holiday version accompanied by thick cream, preserved berries and their lovely liqueuered juices, french toast makes an ordinary Saturday morning special and a special Saturday even moreso.

You can whip up soaked bread just before you plan to cook for an easy spur of the moment breakfast or make it up the night before and have it ready to go from the fridge. The latter option is great when an early morning is a guarantee.

This morning, however, after seeing the brilliant golden interiors of these Red Haven peaches. it was a last minute inspiration that coincided with a planned grill session and just in time for A Taste of Yellow. A few beaten eggs, splash of milk, a pinch of cinnamon and little grated orange zest and juice make a lovely bath for the thick sliced wholemeal loaf.

The toast can either be cooked stovetop or in the oven (great for large batches) but I simply fried the bread this morning while the peaches were given a turn on the grill. We were already heating the outdoor grill this morning for some tomatoes and peppers that would be salsa later on. If grilling isn't an option, a quick turn under the broiler or in the same frypan are easy, and just as tasty, alternatives.

With the bread golden brown pefection, I remove it to a plate. They sirup is simple as adding a little peach juice and maple syrup to the still hot pan, just to warm through, and tossing in the grilled peaches to coat.

Pour peaches and sirup over the bread and it's to the table.

Mangia!
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It is with much gratitude to Barbara that I post this in recognition of her hard work and inspiring attutude that make A Taste of Yellow into the meaningful event that it is.

To further raise awareness, this link is to a site and video that I hope will remind Ontarians and all Canadians that we have one of the top 5 Cancer treatment facilities in the world in Toronto. The Princess Margaret Hospital, like similar centers, do amazing work because people care enough to donate their time, money and energy be it in events like A Taste of Yellow, walks, runs and cycling events. So little from so many makes all the difference to those that need it.
http://www.pmhf.ca/

A Taste of Yellow 2009

Hope everyone has created their favourite yellow recipes for A Taste of Yellow 2009. I am very much looking forward to the roundup.

Cheers,

birth days

Here at la tavola, it's a birthday bonanza. We each celebrate a 30-something birthday this week and are happy to share the dates along with the duo over at winosandfoodies, a cousin and a nephew.

As much as I miss my winter birthday and the cool weather accompaniments (usually anything roasted and red wine compatible), having a summer barbeque is a good alternative. With a Greek and Turkish inspired menu of herbed chicken skewers, tomato-feta salad and lemony roasted potatoes.. I supposed I could get used to it.

Mangia!

Helado de crema morisca

My darling friend and neighbour is from the city of Campeche. When we traveled there for her wedding, I was delighted by the street and bar foods, (panuchos being a favourite for the late night set), amazing seafood and the drinks, agua frescas (tamarindo!) and fruit juices. I also learned that Mexican food doesn't always mean heat. While it certainly CAN (the habernero is painfully hot!) and there are an abundance of hot sauces and condiments, earthy, acidic and roasted notes contribute to the many complex flavours that define regional Mexican cuisine and most expat Mexicans have a favourite sweet dessert be it chocolate or coconut based (and usually with canela/cinnamon) that reminds them of home.

Sugar? I know, not the first thing one thinks of when it comes to Mexican food, but one spoonful of helada di crema morisca and that will change.

Ice cream? Not something I thought I'd be finding in abundance in a country where coconut milk, cold beer or tequlia are the typical restortives.. it was in a small shop on the square that contained some of the most pecular flavour of ices that I had ever seen. Forget the savoury ice cream trend of the 90s, this was something else. Chocolate, chile, and camaron (prawn) ice cream?

No prawns here, however, the flavour building blocks of this ice cream begins with sherry. You can try using any of the oloroso or blends, but I had good results with a simple fino. The prunes that I use are still very moist and require only a few minutes in water to soften. If you can get a good Mexican vanilla it adds amazing flavour but is not critical here (I've used Tahitian paste with no complaints). The real flavour (and texture builder) was achieved by the use of tinned evaporated milk.

A strange ingredient, but essential in the typical milky but still strong Mexican coffee. The scent of which lured me from my hammock every morning. The richness provided by the evaporated milk makes massive amounts of heavy cream unnecessary. I first recall its flavour from stolen sips of my grandfathers tea and later, my mother's cheesecake ice cream (served with a delectable strawberry sauce). It worked then and it certainly works now.

So here is where I am reminded of what my sister asked me when we tried this recipe the first time.. that is sounded rather geriatric in nature and did I get my recipe form a nursing home menu?? Sherry and prunes? I suppose it does.

And it's delicious.

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Helado di crema morisca

• 1 1/4 c caster sugar
• 1 Tbsp cornstarch
• 1/4 tsp. salt
• 375mL whole milk
• 125mL sherry
• 2 large or 3 small egg yolks, lightly beaten
• 160mL evaporated milk
• 240mL heavy cream (35%)
• 1-2 tsp. vanilla (paste or good extract)
• 1 C (loosely packed) dried prunes, rehydrated with boiling water and chopped fine.

Blend the dry ingredients and add the whole milk to dissolve sugar mixture. Bring to the boil over meduim heat. Add the sherry. Simmer for about a minute or so.

In a small bowl, lightly beat yolks and, whisking constantly, add some (about a cup) of the steaming milk in a thin stream. This will temper the yolks and prevent the formation of scrambled egg bits. Add the tempered yolks back to the pot and keep over low heat near a simmer for 2-3 minutes (mixture will heat to about 180C) and begin to thicken.

To start the cooling process, remove from heat and add the evaporated milk, prunes, vanilla and the cream. Pour into a bowl and cover the mixture with either saran or parchment allowing the cover to sit right on the surface (so no skin forms). Chill for a few hours or overnight to allow it to chill completely.

I've never set this in the freezer just by stirring, rather I use my Cuisinart. This also makes about 2 liters which is more than my machine holds so I use two bowls.

Enjoy!

Strawberries have arrived!

Finally. Without a doubt, the most recognisable sign that spring is becoming summer, as roadside asparagus disappears, is the arrival of the first strawberries.

The amount of rain and lack of continuous sunshine to date has done nothing to assist but they are here nonetheless. I picked up a flat for freezing and also made some fruit based remedy to help with the current increase in temperature. Nothing goes with blue skies and 28C like strawberry granita.

Blend a quart of berries with the sweetener of your choice and sieve to remove seeds if you prefer. I like to remove them as they seem to multiply in this dessert (or settle to the bottom). I also like a bit of lime (I love lime) and a bit of spirit to further depress the freeezing point of the mixture. Any of tequila, rum or vodka would work, and just a tablespoon or so, as I don't want it to take over the flavour of the fruit, however, that is completely a personal preference and can be done to taste.

At this point, you can either churn the mixture in a home ice cream maker and allow it to set up in the freezer to make it more scoopable or you can set it in a tray and scrape with a fork or spatula every hour or so until set.

Mangia!

the flowers get stuffed

It was a warm morning and we were in the garden.. talking about lunch, as you do, and also discussing an upcoming porchetta we are planning (more on that later!). The pig will be filled (ripieno or stuffed) with a savoury rice mixture. A favourite and easy way to cook rice (not to mention flavourful after absorbing all the cooking juices). From there the conversation deteriorated (new meaning to 'lost in translation") into me trying to explain to my suocero that, in NZ, the meaning of the saying 'stuffed' is akin to being tired and that to say 'get stuffed' well.. let's say that both will apply to the pig. Repeated attempts to say 'stuffed' with his thick Italian accent (all the while waving his hands around - as if to help the words flow) had me falling over with laughter, much to his amusement.

So, to accompany our glass of beer (gardening is thirsty work), I made some 'tired' zucchini flowers. Normally, we'd make pitea but not today. This 10 minute snack blends ricotta, a little fresh goat's milk feta and minced fresh herbs (I like parsley & basil) into a simple filling. A quick grating of grana (to taste) and a small egg to bind and we're in business.

The batter for frying is a simple tablespoon of the egg white from above, flour and a little water to thin the mixture. Season with salt and pepper.

Frying. Anytime I fry anything nowadays, I'm reminded of Maria Pia's cookbook where she comments on the current 'fear of frying'. We don't eat that much fried food so it's still a treat. But better to eat better food (not just any old parfried/frozen chip) when we choose to fry, no? Everything in moderation and all that.

For frying, especially small batches of fritters, I use grapeseed oil almost exclusively. High heat capability (that is, high smokepoint at 210C) and a nice mild flavour make for the perfect frying mate.

To assemble the flowers, just have them cleaned and ready, careful not to tear the petals when removing the inner bits. Place a small ball of the cheese mixture inside the flower, 1-2 teaspoons.

I know this seems like a tiny amount (it does depend on the size of the flowers), but the filling will release steam as it cooks and overstuffed flowers can burst (read: big splattering mess). When the temperature is at 180-185C, dredge the flowers into the batter using your fingers to regulate a thin coating and twist the ends of the petals together to create a crisp seal.

Flip the flowers when the edges are golden and brown evenly on both sides (they will sort of slump a little as they cook). Remove to paper towel to drain any excess oil. Let them cool slightly as the filling will be quite hot but not so long that they become soggy.

Serve with a chilled Peroni or your favourite local pilsner style.

saluté!