I love Summer

You know summer is around the corner when the air is warm, slightly heavy and smells like freshly cut grass. I love summer. But when the weather gets warmer, I feel less inclined to cook anything fussy. Less time in the kitchen means more time to enjoy the balmy outdoors.

The other evening, I made a quick curry and to work the Asian theme further, I made coriander-garlic naan, and mango pudding for dessert too. The curry, to my dismay, tasted more like satay you would get at the Chinese stand at an international food court but the naan was good. The dessert was based on an idea I took (and embellished) from those firmly set mango puds you order after you have had your fill of delicious steamed dim sums at your local yum cha restaurant.

Although mangoes are not at the height of their season (Kensingtons were retailing at $5 each), the pudding worked well with frozen mango cheeks. Topped with snowy-white coconut granita, a squeeze of lime juice and fine chiffonade of mint, this dessert in my opinion, is the epitome of summer in a glass!

Spring into Lunch!

Spring has sprung, as they say and I celebrated the first weekend of the season with a plump and juicy leg of roasted lamb. I purchased the perfect joint with the truest intention of roasting it and inviting some friends over for dinner that evening but true to form (and to the tradition of getting distracted), I ended up going out to town with a girlfriend and the leg of lamb was left to get acquainted with the rest of my fridge’s occupants for a few hours.

The leg was butterflied with the shank still attached so it looked like an intact leg when rolled and bound. You can save a buck by buying a leg of lamb and butterfly-ing it yourself but why bother when someone else can do it for you. By removing the bone, the leg cooks quicker, more evenly and with the added bonus of the increased surface area of flesh, you can marinate the meat effectively and in less time! I wish I had paid a little more attention to the weight of the joint I bought but my guess is, it was around 1.5 kilograms (excluding the bone) which was more than adequate for a party of 6 with leftovers for a lamb sandwich or two with homemade tzatziki the next day.

To prepare the meat for cooking, I made little incisions on the inside of the leg and inserted slivers of dark olives into these slits. Anchovies would have been nice too if I had some as the unctuous and salty nature of these little fish go so well with meats like lamb and veal. Anyway, I gave the meat a good rub with a heavy slosh of extra virgin olive oil and a lavish seasoning of cracked black pepper, smoky paprika, garlic, oregano and lemon zest before rolling and firmly tying it with kitchen twine. At this point, you could seal the meat in a very hot pan to brown the fat a little and finish off the cooking in a very hot oven (around 200 C) for 35-40 minutes. Alternatively, you could let it sit for a few hours in the fridge allowing the flavours of the herbs and spices to mingle and develop before proceeding with the cooking while you attend to your social life - as I did.

Preparing a meal of roast meat and vegetables for your family and/or friends need not be a production. With mindful planning, the entire feast can be prepared in less than an hour. Trust me, I know because I timed myself and I didn't break a sweat while cooking. Whilst the meat was in the oven, I prepared my side dishes: sauteed kipler potatoes with duck fat, flaky sea salt and chives, stringless green beans with a herby, buttery rye crumb topping, and lemon-garlic yellow zucchini, all of which were cooked simply and more importantly, quickly to capture their bright colours which reflect the splendour of spring!

Curious Congo...

I am dedicating this month (well, whatever is left of it anyway) to the preparation of several farinaceous dishes beginning with an extraordinarily coloured gnocchi. On Sunday afternoon after a last minute cancellation to watch the new Pixar animated movie, "Ratatouille" with my very dear friend Jean-Michel, I headed to my local green grocers in search of some produce that may inspire me to cook something special for myself for a change.

I got my hands on some Purple Congo Potatoes with the initial plan of making a simple potato salad, to show off their intense purple-ness. Instead, I got somewhat distracted between the planning and the executing, and made gnocchi, which contrary to popular belief isn't as time consuming or as daunting a task.

Purple Congo Potatoes also go by the names: British Columbia Blue, McIntosh Black, River John Blue, Sharon's Blue. In Australia, these potatoes retail at a dearer price compared to your new season potatoes (about 3 times the value per kilo). Purple Congos are small, oval shaped (just like kiplers) and have a dry mealy texture when cooked. It comes too as no surprise that the sweet pigmented flesh of these potatoes contain a high level of antioxidants and is also an excellent source of natural dye should you decide to change the colour of your wardrobe.

I made the gnocchi following a recipe found in Italy's culinary bible The Silver Spoon. The outcome was a surprisingly tender dumpling, fluffier and sweeter than gnocchi made from the usual white potatoes and at the risk of sounding overtly cliche, it is just like eating a fluffy purple cloud!

I thoroughly enjoy eating gnocchi with a hearty bolognaise sauce but it seemed such a shame to conceal the novel colour and flavour of these purple pillows with such a heavy sauce so I served them tossed in a creamy garlicky sauce topped with crunchy Ciabatta crumbs and finely grated Comte cheese.

Rice Pudding, Cumquats and Chocolate

It is difficult for me to decide which of these 3 components should be the leading star of this dessert just as it is hard for me to decide which of my 3 current favourite actors I would like nothing more than to have a cuddle with.

I simply adore rice pudding but not the sort you get in tins under the name "creamed rice" nor the type served in a large bain-marie at some hotel buffet looking all sad and remorseful at the end of the evening because it hasn't been too popular (surprise, surprise). I am no rice pud snob though as I have been known to tuck into little plastic tubs of Le Rice when I get a snack attack but they cannot be compared to the real McCoy, can they?

Rice pudding has a somewhat romantic history dating back to the Middle Ages. Every culture has a different take on this classic but the recipes always include milk, a sweetener, an aromat, maybe even nuts and fruit. Oh! and rice of course which is THE integral part of the pud.

The first rice pudding I ever made involved partially cooking the rice on the stove then completing it in a moderate oven with the custard base. It was a very old-fashioned recipe I dug out from some English cookbook. Maybe it was the anticipation and the mouth-watering photograph featured with the recipe but no words could describe how anticlimactic the whole experience quickly became for me. The rice grains were chalky in the middle and sat in a swamp of scrambled eggy mess. I mean, wasn't the rice meant to finish in a thick creamy custard like in the photo?! It took me a while to get over this unfortunate incident.

Thankfully, over the years, I have learnt to make an almost perfect rice pudding. The secret, I believe, is in the type of rice you choose. I have experimented with several varietals and finally settled on a pearly-white Japanese grain which is shorter than that of Calrose, Vialone Nano, Arborio and Carnaroli. When cooked, the grains plump up dramatically, become very aromatic and has the most satisfying glutinous bite. Also, the rice contains enough starch to thicken the milk to a velvety finish so there is no need for the addition of eggs or cornstarch as some dated recipes call for.

Look, I realise some modern recipes for rice pudding do prescribe to the risotto method of preparation and if you feel inclined, then do so by all means but really, my method is far simpler and the results are just as good - if not better.

Simply rain rice into scalded semi-skimmed milk perfumed with vanilla, grated orange rind and a crushed cardamom pod, gently sweetened with a minimum amount of sugar, then bring to a boil before covering and placing into a moderate oven to cook for 18 minutes and no more! Remove from the oven and give the rice a good stir and allow to cool. I have opted for semi-skimmed milk instead of whole milk because softly whipped cream is gently folded through the cooked rice after it has cooled. This not only gives it body but also a light creaminess.

The rice pudding is delicious as it is with a sprinkling of pistachio nuts for added crunch but I decided to take it up a notch serving it with some precious jewel-like cumquats (I preserved a fortnight ago as a condiment for a future savoury project). But why stop there, when warm dark chocolate sauce finishes this humble pud with a dreamy voluptuousness. Mmm...

"browniebabe of the month": Wasabi Brownies

Admittedly, I was in a slightly drug-induced daze whilst baking this batch of delectable brownies, for you see, I am nursing an extremely sore lower back. (NOTE: The brownies contain NO traces of narcotics). Anyway, my friends seem to be interested in how I managed to cause so much damage to myself - they ask with concern, with a cheeky gleam in their eyes and a slightly naughty inflexion in their voice. I suppose they expect me to say I did it attempting some bizzare sexual position only very flexible and nubile centrefold models should attempt and I suppose that sounds far more juicy and exciting than saying I put my back out trying to lift a toolbox from the ground. *sigh*

Anyway, back to the brownies. These are Japanese inspired (as were my previous entry to Myriam's "brownie babe of the month" event) with the inclusion of sinus-clearing wasabi paste and tummy-settling grated ginger root. I must confess the idea came from a Recchiuti pamphlet I found whilst unpacking some boxes (which incidentally led to my sore back) and I did find the pairing of wasabi and chocolate rather peculiar but let's face it, every fellow seem to have some pretty outrageous chocolate pairing (with garlic, olives and blue cheese to name a few) these days which work, I suppose.

Unlike many of my kitchen-related undertakings, this one in particular took much careful planning and consideration simply because I was limited in my movement and I really shouldn't have been operating any machinery (hey, that's what the fine print on the box of tablets state) thus my initial plan of making a wasabi truffle cake was scrapped or more accurately, filed under "future projects" for the time being as I settled to make these brownies following my favourite brownie recipe supplemented with wasabi paste and grated ginger root.

Surprisingly, the wasabi's tear-inducing property was greatly diminished in the baked product and paired with the ginger created a complex warm and earthy flavour. Of course, with the addition of a handful of leftover marshmallows and chocolate chunks, the texture became irresistibly moist, chewy and suspiciously... chocolatey. This is definately a brownie you would make to impress and surprise your grown-up friends with a more developed and sophisticated palate (compared to a child... though this is sometimes arguable). It is such a special coupling of flavours; balanced, rounded and utterly delicious!

wasabi brownies

200g dark chocolate

100g butter

250g brown sugar

3 large eggs

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

16g wasabi paste

10g grated ginger root

100g plain flour

(makes a 18x18cm pan, 12 generoud squares)

preheat oven to 170C, line the base of tin with baking paper

beat eggs, sugar, vanilla, wasabi paste and grated ginger until pale

melt butter and dark chocolate in au bain marie

fold chocolate mixture into egg mixture

fold flour into mixture

stir chocolate chunks and marshmallow into mixture if using

pour into prepared pan

bake for 20-25 minutes and allow to cool.