wellington whanau

It's funny when you get older and can choose where you make your home. I've had a tumultuous year which has involved 3 house moves and it's only now that I feel settled. Throughout the turmoil I wondered if Wellington was still the place for me. I moved here for university, and just a change from my hometown. I've made some of my dearest friends and I've many fond memories of my six and a half years here. At the moment, and at least for another year, Wellington is my home. Auckland will always be home, but right now I'm happy and I love this city. I've had many a nightmare the last wee while what with good friends leaving and relationships ending and changing, but through it all I have made new friends and am lucky enough to now have very good old friends which I have made in my chosen city.

I am also extremely lucky in the fact that I now have a Wellington family. Despite the fact they're the fisherman's aunt and uncle, they've taken me in and still very much feel like mine, regardless of everything that's happened. Tonight they had me over for a classic Sunday night family dinner in honour of my birthday. We began with freshly smoked Swordfish - fresh frozen off the fisherman's boat, and delivered to them. It was absolutely delicious. Main was 'hidden lamb' - lamb steaks cooked with sundried tomato, feta and olives wrapped in filo. I've talked about my affection for pastry before, and this meal was no exception. With greek salad and broccoli done with olive oil and lemon, it was a boomer of a meal. Since tamarillos are in season we ended with a tamarillo and orange-zest baked cheesecake. I love cheesecake.

Tamarillo Cheesecake (from here)
The maker of this one doubled the filling recipe and said if she was to make it again, she would treble it so as to get that luscious filling-to-base ratio just right. It's not too rich and the ginger and zest really give it that extra something. She also recommends letting the filling cool completely before putting on the topping and I think you would be wise to heed her advice.

Base
3/4 cup rolled oats
3/4 cup wholemeal flour
100g butter
1/2 cup sugar
2 tsp ground ginger

Filling
1/3 cup sugar
250g cream cheese
1 cup greek-style yoghurt
grated rind of one orange
2 eggs

Topping
Seeds and juice of 6 ripe tamarillos
3 tbs sugar
1 cinnamon quill

Preparation
Melt the butter and mix thoroughly with the other base ingredients. Line the bottom of a greased spring-form cake tin with baking paper and press in the mixture into a pie shell shape, with a depth of about 3cm. Place in the fridge to chill.

Using a food processor, electric or hand-held beater mix the filling ingredients well. 


Pour the filling into the shell and bake at 180°C for 45mins to 1 hour, until the filling is just set. Remove from the oven and allow to cool in the tin. 


In a small saucepan, heat the seeds and juice of 6 ripe tamarillos (leaving the harder centre pieces) with 3 tbs of sugar and a cinnamon quill. Simmer rapidly for around 5mins until the mixture has reduced. Stir constantly apparently! 

Pour the tamarillo topping over the cheesecake and serve when cool.

The family are all very keen foodies (except one daughter who thinks marrying a chef will solve all her problems) and every meal is made with care and thought, often infused by their international travels. I get pangs of missing he-who-shall-not -be-named when I'm there, but at the same time I feel completely comfortable and welcome in their home, which was my home for a while when I was otherwise homeless. They are wonderful, and to finish my friend-filled sunny weekend with an evening like that, I am reminded of yet another reason I love this city.

birthdays and cakes

It was my birthday yesterday. I had the most wonderful weekend with my beautiful sisters and friends, but more about that later. Last week it was my flatmate's birthday and so I made a hummingbird cake. It's like carrot cake, but with pineapple and walnuts. It was a roaring success, except that despite my best efforts involving a skewer, the centre was a little undercooked. In fact, it was raw. Totally edible though and still delicious. I am beginning to wonder whether there is anything that cream cheese icing can't fix. I was out of lemons but zested the icing up with lime, and then coconut threaded around the edge. It was beautiful. The recipe is from a delicious magazine from about 2003 and it's a boomer of a recipe to have in your repertoire. The original calls for mango chunks on top; I didn't this time but have before and it's a really good addition. Get some carrots and get in there! 

Hummingbird Cake

3 eggs

1 cup (250ml) sunflower oil

1 cup (160g) lightly packed brown sugar

1 1/2 cups self raising flour, sifted

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

2 tsp cinnamon 

2 carrots (about 250g) finely grated

3/4 cup (90g) walnuts

440g can of crushed pineapple, drained

Preheat oven to 180*C. Grease and line the base of a spring-form pan. 

Using electric beaters, beat eggs, oil and sugar in a bowl until light and fluffy.

Using a metal spoon, fold in flour, baking soda and cinnamon. Add carrot and walnuts and pineapple. Gently combine. Spread mixture into prepared pan and bake for an hour or until a skewer comes out clean. Although  I would just cook it for the whole hour because my bloody skewer came out clean but the centre of the cake was definitely gooey. Ah well. 

Cool cake in pan, and once cool ice with cream cheese icing:

Place 250g cream cheese, 125g unsalted butter and 1 tsp vanilla in a bowl and beat until smooth. Add 500g sifted icing sugar and 1 tbsp lemon juice (I used lime) and beat until creeeeamy. Decorate with mango chunks and coconut threads. 

I'm now listening to a birthday mix cd a delightful friend made for me whilst making myself a birthday cake for the work morning tea tomorrow. More (food related) goss from the weekend later!  

treats in the tin

My parents were down this weekend and Dad and I spent Saturday at Ruth Pretty's cooking school in Te Horo. It was a weekend filled with food and wine and banter and it deserves a whole blog post all to itself. Tonight that is not going to happen; as the title suggests I've had a spot of food fatigue (plus a belly fulll of whiskey and cake). Not possible you may think? Well nor did I but this week I've just been a bit flat. Maybe it's the harsh reality sinking in of being single and heart-confused in winter? Naaaaaah I'm alright!

I'm back to baking. Last night I made a hummingbird cake with the huge bag of carrots our flat acquired over the weekend, and while I was faffing about the kitchen I finally got around to the rhubarb slice. The recipe is inspired by a Donna Hay one, but I made a few changes as you can see below. I also made these confit oranges with saffron which feature in the latest Dish magazine and also on this blog right here.

I sassed up the slice with a bit of the orange syrup, plus I added almonds. With all the butter, it is luscious! There's still half a tin sitting on my bench begging me not to eat it, so if you're walking past pop up for a cup of tea and a baked treat.

Rhubarb Crumble Slice (based on Donna Hay's recipe here, but given the heartbreakpie once-over)
Preheat oven to 180*C.
Take:
100g melted butter
1/3 cup caster sugar (I used white)
1 cup of plain flour, sifted (I used a colander, could not for the life of me find the sieve)
1/2 tsp baking powder, sifted (see above)
1/2 cup desiccated coconut
1/4 cup milk
Combine all the above ingredients in a bowl and mix to combine. Press into a slice-appropriate baking tin (about 17cm x 27cm) lined with baking paper and butter.

Take one bunch of rhubarb, trimmed and chopped. Combine with 3/4 cup sugar, 1 tsp vanilla essence. Here is where I added some of the orangey-sugar syrup from above, as well as some orange zest and a teensy sprinkling of cinnamon. Spread over the base.

To make the crumble topping, combine 1 cup flour, 1/4 cup caster sugar and 100g cold chopped butter. If making again, I'd omit a bit of the butter. I would also think about reducing the sugar at the rhubarb stage. Anyway, crumble the butter through the flour and sugar to make a crumbly texture. Here I also under-measured the flour and added some ground almonds and some chopped slivered almonds. I am certain the slice was better for it. So give it a go! It's a goodie. Crumble over the mixture and bake 35-40 minutes until golden. You could serve it sliced either with cream or yoghurt, or you could just leave it to set and take a slice for an afternoon treat at work.

 Our seafood adventure in detail and a tasty hummingbird birthday cake will be following shortly. Get hungry!

let's just call it fusion

On a drizzly, lonely grey Sunday morning, I had the house to myself and no intention of venturing into the cold. The heater was on and in a moment of inspiration to not spend unnecessary dollars on brunch-for-one, I instead turned to the fridge. Present were a couple of free-range eggs just before their use-by date, and I thought this could really go somewhere. Inspired by these eggs from Orangette, I chopped up a leek and set about attempting to create my own Tartine Poireaux-Oeufs Brouilles.

Molly from Orangette is now a professional blogger. This is why - her eggs looked like this:

I from Heartbreakpie am still a lawyer. This is why - my eggs looked like this:

Granted, I only had Freya's crusts from the freezer - there were no fresh baguettes in sight. I also beefed up my vege filled feast with a little frozen spinach and some grilled haloumi.

Things started off well, will me sautéing the leeks with ample butter and plenty of seasoning. I also nailed the haloumi - I'm addicted to the stuff, it's just so delicious. A cast iron frypan ensured crispy edges and a gloriously gooey inside.

 

Butter and seasoning was crucial for the leeks, and despite aiming for France and then adding a Greek-Cypriot cheese, let's just call it fusion. I usually pride myself on my scrambled egg making skills, but without a rubber spatula the results weren't pretty. It wasn't my finest work, but it was really tasty and I reckon if I was cooking for someone other than myself they would have been stoked. Maybe. Perhaps I'll seek a second opinion next time if anyone's around... I've subsequently had photographic help thrust upon me in the form of an enthusiastic DSLR wielding flatmate of mine. Watch this space for the results!