three little words

There comes a time in every person's life where they get excited about the very important uttering of three little words. They're not actually little; they're huge. They are words that are game-changers. Deal-breakers. Separately so much less than when combined, one after the other after the other.

They evoke happiness, and memories of sunshine, of social occasions, groups of friends sitting around drinking champagne. They point excitedly to the future, about what's coming, and what's about to happen.  Laughter, emotion, parties - all wrapped up in one simple phrase.

Sometimes you know it's coming. You're expecting it. You're prepared. Sometimes you are just so happy getting on with life that it doesn't occur to you that they might be just around the corner.

And then bam! There they are. You might be in bed, you might be casually browsing the magazine section at the supermarket, you might be having a morning coffee at your favourite cafe, or dinner at a restaurant, staring lovingly at a menu over candlelight.

What are they?

New.

Season.

Asparagus.

Three little words. Three little words that have made my day.

Every spring for the last few years I have eagerly anticipated the arrival of those words on signs where I buy my vegetables.

With my flatmates all sufficiently and smugly coupled up and out for dinner, I rather enjoyed the break from feeling like a fifth wheel under my own roof. Feeling rather smug myself, I ate an entire plate of roasted asparagus for dinner this evening.

My favourite way to cook asparagus (which I shared last year and declared trying asparagus this way may just be the highlight of 2010 that you're scraping around for) is as follows:

- snap the woody ends off
- lay in a baking tray
- drizzle in olive oil
- sprinkle in salt and cracked pepper
- cook at about 200*C for about 20 minutes, giving it a shake part way through.

The tips should go a little crispy and the flavour intensifies. It's delicious. You can serve it on it's own, or with a few shavings of pecorino cheese, or a little balsamic drizzle. It can be a side dish, or the main event. Maybe try adding some crispy pancetta, or a squeeze of lemon. Lots of people like it steamed or blanched. It's great in salads. Served with poached eggs and/or hollandaise sauce is hugely popular too, from what I can gather. I have a great recipe for using it in pasta, where you thinly slice it longways and only let it cook in the heat of the spaghetti, and with lemon and parmesan and pinenuts.

It's one of those things that you really appreciate because it's only here for such a short time (like feijoas). Last summer we had many a barbecue on our sunny deck and asparagus featured at every one. I am very much looking forward to doing that again, and I know that some people hate it, but me? It's true love.  

Welcome back into my life. I am excited.

pearls of wisdom

1. Sometimes a wintry southerly will strike in Spring.
And there's no better thing to do than hoody-up and have a cup of tea with the latest Frankie magazine (whose cover-model by the way, is wearing a shirt very similar to one I picked up from the Royal Oak Salvation Army shop recently for about $6). Frankie always makes me laugh, and the recipes are written by the lovely Lucy, whose blog the Kitchen Maid I really really quite fancy. Check out this parfait - chocolate and black doris plums; win win win.

2. The love of lambs and love of lamb conundrum which I face every spring can be cured with both some quality time frolicking in the park, and some quality time in the kitchen.

Take some diced lean NZ lamb, marinate in a little natural yoghurt and a little lemon juice and some fresh rosemary, grab ye some pizza bases, rub in garlic, get some baby spinach and some red onion on there, lightly panfry the lamb, add to pizzas, grill with plenty of feta cheese and whatever else takes your fancy and serve with a yoghurt dressing full of fresh mint (preferably from your new herb garden).

3. Scrabble is a great game
And if you have no one to play against you on a cold lonely Monday, there is plenty of fun to be had simply by spelling out rude words and silly messages to yourself. Honest...

4. Journeys will continue to test ones sense of direction (or lack thereof) well into adult life.
That prickly feeling in your armpits that you've really messed up will not get any easier to deal with, despite acquiring experience and age and degrees to your name. You will still feel stupid when you realise you have missed a turn off, or a roundabout exit, or a giant glaring sign indicating where your destination is. You'll feel better if your little sister is in the car. You'll feel worse when you decide ringing your older, wiser, directionally intuitive sister in the UK is a better outcome than calling your Mum. Who you inevitably end up calling, and who is at your destination, and to whom you end up confessing that even though you have both been driven to Matamata from Auckland numerous times in your youth, you have a feeling you're not quite on the right track when you're somewhere near Ngaruawahia. "Ngaruawahia?!" she shrieks down the phone.

The outcome will be worse if your sister in the UK, who you know is not a morning person, is very unimpressed with being woken up, and is not at all interested in talking to you, or why you're even calling. It will worsen still when you suck it up and do call your Mum, who offers directions which you try your hardest to remember and visualise (no easy feat, believe me). What she doesn't know when you show up at your Aunt's for your Oma's funeral the next day is that her directions were scantily followed, and that you not only ended up asking for further directions twice in Hamilton, you also were sent on a back road by an innocent passer-by on her Sunday walk. The guy at the gas station sent you towards a rose garden and a golf course, and you ended up not only enjoying the sunset through Cambridge, you nearly lost it when you ended up driving through some small village as it was swiftly getting dark and you had no cellphone reception. Once back on the main road ("the 26!"), you still managed to both have to ask for directions from the fruit shop man heading into Morrinsville, and when excitedly taking photos at the first 'Matamata' sign you see, you still manage to nearly take the wrong exit, you will make it eventually. It will be a roller coaster of emotion, but thankfully it will be filled with lots and lots of laughing.

You will very much enjoy the quality time with your family, and catching up with cousins, and with plenty of beautiful tulips you'll give your dear Oma a lovely send off.

5. Road trips are vastly improved with a decent lunch before you leave
Especially if the trip is going to end up slightly stressful (and nearly as funny as The Trip the movie, which I highly recommend, but probably not quite as funny. Don't get me wrong, my sister and I are funny, but Steve Coogan? Hilarious).

Is there a food more perfect and versatile than a well made BLT? I dare you to think of one. Breakfast, lunch or dinner, these consistently hit the spot. Bailey and I hit up Nosh before disaster roady of the year, and with freshly made sourdough, free range bacon, ripe avocado, lettuce, juicy tomato and the deal breaker - caramelised onion jam, these babies were beautiful. Other acceptable contents include mayo and relish, in my humble opinion, and don't forget the cracked pepper and a little salt.

6. Road trips demand good music. 
Me, driving: "Put something good on. Um, maybe the Shins or something?"
Little sister: "Do you want to hear something good? Or something amazing?"

Cue: Shania, Celine, Bette Midler and us, singing at the top of our lungs. Which was probably half the reason we took the wrong motorway exit to be fair. (Now is not the time though to go into the story from the day before, when I had found Mum's Beaches soundtrack on the stereo at home and cranked it very loudly while making banana bread. If there's one singer who is seriously underrated, it's Bette freaking Midler. I unashamedly love her.)

We both commented "we should have iphones!" as GPS would have safe and soundly got us to Matamata in less than the nearly 4 hours it took us from Auckland. But in hindsight it wouldn't have been anywhere near as fun. As well as reminiscing about Mum's Beaches CD, we also reminisced about car trips with Oma and The Carpenters Greatest Hits on cassette. That lead to conversations about Karen Carpenter having the voice of an angel (and a pretty sweet fringe too I have to say) and more loud singing. Baby baby baby baby ooooooh baby. I love you I reeeeally do... 


It was amazing. But I digress.

7. Auckland's best Malaysian food can be found at KK Malaysia on Manakau Road. 
The night before said-road trip, a few friends and I queued and waited for a table, and woahwoahwoah: hands down the best Malaysian I believe I've ever had. The deep fried tofu with chilli and peanuts, the beef rendang, the whole fish, the mee goreng and the roti, all come highly recommended. Here's a more comprehensive review than what I have just written. Expect to wait for a table (at 7pm we were told to come back at 8.20pm, and did that and still stood on the street for 20 minutes) but know that it's worth it.

8. Broken hearts make for better blogging
and one friend who was at that dinner is currently blogging up a storm, about Auckland and heartbreak, and she articulates what I used to feel in an honest and beautifully well-written way. Perseverance is the key where I'm concerned though, and despite the fact that "part-time-lover pie" "happily single pie" "boozehag pie" "scared of commitment pie" "boyfriend pie" and "relationship pie" all don't have quite the same ring to it, who knows what the future holds. In the meantime...

...or some cake, or a cookie, or some gingerbread. Or just have a gin. x

herbs and surburbia

Reasonably content just pottering along at the moment saw a few drinks on Friday and a walk in the sun Saturday morning. A garden centre trip was tentatively touted as a herb garden has been in order for a while. Our hardy basil died a slow horrible death at the hands of deck-dwelling beer-drinking smokers at numerous parties had here in the Valley, the mint though has survived the test of time (and cigarette butts). You can't really go past cooking with fresh herbs, so the sunshine on Saturday morning meant for a trip to the suburbs.

To Miramar Nicola and I trekked, and the garden centre was all very exciting. Potting mix and herbs and a chilli plant for good measure, but the planting didn't happen until Sunday because once home the deck required us to laze about on it with the first bottle of rose of the sunny season. After investing in our future culinary endeavours with herbs, we stopped by and said hello to the lovely lads at Cafe Polo (and congratulations for taking out Burger Wellington with the Polly Burger) and took away a rather delicious coffee each. We also, on a whim, called in to see what the Mary Potter Hospice shop had to offer.

The elbows came out when I spotted the future love of my life being ogled by another woman (who, for the record, very sensibly stepped aside).

Isn't she beautiful? I've wanted a cake mixer for a while. Kitchen Aids are lovely (and expensive), but my Mum swears by her classic Kenwood. The man that services hers says those old mechanical ones are superior to the modern electrical versions. I picked up my shiny white and complete mixer for a steal at $55 and I squealed when I got it to the car. And when I got it home. And again when I turned it on. It's all very exciting. It has a dough hook! Raisin toast? Watch this space.

I haven't quite christened it with butter and sugar just yet, I was too busy gardening in kitchen dish gloves with an old knife instead of a trowel, and baking banana bread (again). Feeling seedy on Sunday and thinking to dinner, I had little more in the fridge than mince and mushrooms so went with a very simple and tasty spaghetti bolognese. I could call this 'beef and mushroom ragout' but you'd all know that really it's just good old spag bol.

It's a staple in many households, and it's also my Dad's signature dish. With a little bit of time and a little bit of love, you too can make boring mince into a tasty Italian inspired dinner. 

Pretty simply, I diced an onion and added it to some olive oil and crushed garlic in a pan. Cooked until soft, I then added the mince (500g fed our house of four quite comfortably). I seasoned, added some tomato paste and cooked it off for a while. Tinned tomatoes, sliced mushrooms, a generous splash of red wine were added. I proudly picked some fresh rosemary and thyme, chopped them up and added them, as well as some dried oregano and a bay leaf. I then let that simmer and reduce for ages. Cooked some spaghetti and served it up with plenty of parmesan. A comforting and satisfying Sunday night dinner. Banana bread for dessert. Good good good.  

moderation

If you work in an office, sometimes all you want out of your lunch break is a healthy homemade salad (usual culprits: roast broccoli, baby spinach, crunchy sprouts, beans, feta) and some fresh air.

Sometimes though, if it was hailing marble-sized hail the lunchtime before, and all of a sudden spring throws at you a glorious sunny day, then all you really want out of your lunch break is a walk along the waterfront and gelato and gossip in the sun with fellow lunch-breaking friends. Extravagant? Maybe a little. But totally worth it. Everything in moderation...

 L-R coconut, strawberry, chocolate, sour cherry and my cute little kiddies cone, also featuring strawberry.

Kaffee Eis, Frank Kitts Lagoon, Wellington Waterfront 

dreamboat slice

Another fun-filled Friday and Saturday (highlights including but not limited to: rugby, coriander aioli, cooper's pale ale, cleaning my bedroom, an early morning ideas and goss-filled walk, lazy afternoon coffees, gingerbread, a brief but hilarious phone call to melbourne while getting ready, and toast for dinner) meant another kitchenless Sunday not spent cooking. I shamefully didn't even leave the house (although I did make it to the couch). It was worth it though; it was grey and miserable and cold outside and there were very few places I would have rather been than bed til midday given the (post-friend's birthday beer and cocktails) state I was in. 

Despite my lack of any cooking that required inspiration or technical skill, I have been having all sorts of food-related (and other) adventures of late. But more about that to follow!  And even though I ate little more than slice after slice of toast and a tin of spaghetti yesterday, on the whole my post-burger detox has been going reasonably well. Oh, except for that time last week when I made this slice.

I've altered it from something my Mum tells me my Grandma used to make; they'd come home from school to a huge slab of what Gran called Caramel Meringue. I'm making a version on Good Morning with the addition of macadamias and coconut tomorrow, and as well as receiving some positive feedback when bragging about it on twitter, it is as good as it sounds (especially if you love, as I do, caramel in particular, but also macadmias). I simply couldn't stop at one slice. I just couldn't. I'd taken the bulk of it to work as a morning tea treat, and saved a few off cuts for the tin at home. Rookie error - when it was just me at home for the evening, after the gym and a healthy dinner, this slice just didn't have a chance of staying out of my belly. It is dreamy. 

Caramel Macadamia Meringue

 Base -                    125g butter

                                2 tbsp sugar

                                1 egg    

                                1 ½ cups plain flour

                                1 ½ tsp baking powder

               

 Filling -              1 tin sweetened condensed milk (395g)

                              knob of butter

                              ½ cup brown sugar

                              2 tbsp golden syrup

                              2 egg yolks

                              1 tsp vanilla essence

                              1 tbsp plain flour

                              ½ cup chopped macadamias

 Topping -             3 egg whites

                            65g caster sugar

                            ½ cup coconut threads

1.      Preheat oven to 180C. Cream butter and sugar until pale. Add egg and continue beating until well incorporated. Add flour and mix with your hands to form a soft dough.

2.        Press dough into a lined and greased sponge roll tin (approx 30cm x 20cm) and bake for 15 minutes.

3.  

         For the caramel, melt together on low-medium heat the condensed milk, butter, sugar, vanilla and golden   syrup. When well combined, add egg yolks and flour. Mix well then allow to cool. 

           For the meringue, beat egg whites until stiff. Sprinkle over sugar while beating and continue to beat until glossy and very firm.

5.      To assemble, pour the caramel mixture over the base. Sprinkle macadamias evenly over the caramel. Carefully add the meringue, and use a rubber spatula to ensure it gets to the edges. Sprinkle over coconut threads.

Bake for 20 minutes. Leave to cool slightly in the pan before carefully removing and slicing into squares.

Eat it and weep! 

tea & toast

There are few things in life that provide me with more comfort than vogels toast and a good cup of tea. Being at home with my family comes close, feeding the family cat yoghurt from a teaspoon, maybe another. Tea and toast though at any time of day, whatever the circumstance, will warm and soothe you like a friendly cuddle in a way that other things simply can't.

I like my toast crispy and my tea strong, and if it's morning time and the spring sun is shining onto your kitchen table, and your Mum has homemade orange marmalade on offer, then that's what I'll be spreading. I rarely buy marmalade and I've never made it. It polarises opinion; people are usually either firmly in either the love or hate camp. I used to hate it, but we all know that with age comes maturity of both palette and behaviour, and I now love the stuff. Homemade of course is best; someone once told me his Mother always used to say that as a guest, you can tell a lot about a home by it's marmalade. Incidentally, the home of that person's was always good. I found this article over at the Guardian about one blogger's pursuit for marmalade perfection, and have a read for a recipe. I just might hit up the market for some delicious seasonal citrus and give it a go this weekend.