Sweet Sunday

It's been a while since I baked. After suffering some small baking disasters (weird thyme muffins, exploding scones, raw brownies) I was somewhat reluctant to get back into it. Leave the baking to Ellen, I thought, and I meanwhile will cook every variant of lentil and barley stew known to man.

But, I have a new kitchen to christen, new co-workers to meet, and honestly: I just couldn't go past these peanut butter cookies.

Gosh, they're good. At the risk of being kicked out of Australia, I'm going to confess that I don't really like ANZAC biscuits. They're so often dry and hard and disappointing. Which I suppose makes sense - war-time food is not famous for flavour.

These biscuits would make an ANZAC weep. They're rich and buttery and lovely. They're crunchy on the edges and soft in the middle, and just the right amount of chewy.

And they go quite well with my (tiny) new kitchen:

As does this bottle opener. Probably my favourite (and certainly most used) kitchen item.

I'd be lying if I said the ducks on the curtains didn't help me pick this place.

My baby coriander. This attempt at growing herbs is going oh-so-much better than the last time. It turns out neglect is not a substitute for water and sunlight.

Having said that, I have managed to forget what these are. Sorry baby mystery herbs. I'm sure you'll grow up to be delicious no matter what you turn into.

But back to those cookies.

Here's how you do it:

Preheat your oven to 175 degrees C.
Combine 2 cups rolled oats with 2 cups sifted plain flour in a large bowl.
Add 2 tsp baking powder and 1(ish) tsp salt. Set aside.
In another bowl, mix 3/4 cup vegetable oil with 3/4 cup natural peanut butter. I used crunchy. Add 2 cups of brown sugar, 1/2 cup oat milk and 2 tsp vanilla extract.
Mix the wet and dry, and then use a dessert spoon to spoon out the dough onto baking paper lined trays. Space them out, they'll spread in the oven.
Bake for 14 - 18 minutes, or until they start smelling divine and browning at the edges.

Take them into work. Or eat them all by yourself. I won't judge.

Food, Glorious Food

The Bouillabaisse - John Olsen

Do you like food? I do. I love food, in fact. I love it so much that it inspires me to pen the odd few words about it in this here blog. I love food so much that the promise of breakfast is what gets me out of bed in the morning, and the anticipation of a delicious dinner is often what gets me through my work day. My love of food explains why, when day after day I watch a co-worker lunch on a tin of tuna in brine and two plain ryvita crackers, I leave our office kitchenette feeling more than a little sad. Food sustains me in more ways than one; it is fuel for my body, a comfort, a creative outlet, a sort of science experiment, and an opportunity for generosity all rolled into one.

I know that Masterchef has laid it on a bit thick with the "food is my passion, my happiness, my LIFE" shtick this year. I know that people get a little sick of Jamie Oliver's ceaseless enthusiasm, Nigella Lawson's coquettish licking of spoons and Gordon Ramsay's... let's call it passion? Passion and swears. I fear that the food-as-entertainment phenomenon is going to run its course in a few years, or worse - reach critical mass until we're chowing down on tuna and ryvitas three meals a day in an act of rebellion against cooking as pop-culture. But food can be so enriching - so elevating, it is so much more to me than an evening of reality television and a glossy recipe book. Here are a few bits and pieces that have broadened my appreciation of food in unexpected, wonderful ways. I hope they do the same for you.

Squid With Its Own Ink - John Olsen

- John Olsen's fantastic new exhibition, Culinaria. Colour and humour and plenty of fishy eyes and squiddy bits. I love John Olsen, I find his combining of abstract and organic very beautiful indeed, and this collection in particular has earned a special place in my heart. From the mouth of the man himself: "Culinaria - The Cuisine Of The Sun. How the sentence excites, rays of optimism, cornucopia and bringing together family and friends, wine and spirited conversation." Just lovely.

- Kumiko Michishita's gorgeous patterns. Peruse her blog. The above is titled "Watermelon and Carrot Juice" and I feel thirsty just looking at it.

- Natalia Hernandez's fantastic new design project, Concoct. Her honours project is all about how we interpret and interact with food. Log in to Facebook to become a fan of Concoct and follow her progress.


- For the Melbournites: The Farm, a community garden over in Brunswick. There are a multitude of community gardens springing up all over Melbourne, even one small one on a patch of median strip just around the corner from my place. There is something quietly revolutionary about urban farming.

- Zingara Cucina, Melbourne's guerrilla restaurant. Read about it here, and catch it if you can.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must go set the VCR for Masterchef...

A Happy Dweller of a Garden Good

.
Korobow Vadim

You know, I’ve always fancied myself a gardener. With absolutely no evidence, skill or inclination to back this up. Quite the opposite really: I’ve killed anything I’ve attempted to grow, I sunburn within 8 seconds of being outside, and I’m really pretty scared of bees. (I’ve never been stung, and I'm still waiting for it. I’m pretty sure bee stings – like chicken pox – are something best got out of the way in childhood, because it’s still going to hurt when you’re an adult, and you’re not allowed to cry in public.) It's just that gardening is so - well, lovely. From Beatrix Potter and The Secret Garded, to idealistic visions of self sustainability, gardening is just so very wholesome.

So it was with this foolish sense of optimism, and visions of serene ladies in large hats, that my housemate and I walked across the street to the Garden Centre and harangued the young clerk into helping us set up our very own herb garden.

Now I’m not promising anything. I don’t have any books, magazines or general knowledge about gardening. I’m kind of banking on the fact that if you stick something in the ground, it’ll grow. Think of it as a kind of ‘trial and error guide to a very small amount of gardening’. With pictures!

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme. Yes, in that order. Yes, for that reason.

Lettuce and rocket. NB: spread the individual plants out more than we did! See? We trial so you won't error.

We also have onions and mint! Think of all the impending deliciousness!

So it's all going pretty well so far! We bought them in winter, and took them outside in the morning, and brought them in at night to avoid the frost. It all went pretty well, even if we have, somewhat disconcertingly, started to refer to them as our babies. I imagine it might be a bit heartbreaking when we eventually, hopefully, cook and eat them.

I promise to try my very best not to kill them, and to keep you updated on their progress. In the meantime, here are some sweet tunes to garden to.

The Good Gardener - Augie March
The Garden - Mirah
Gates to the Garden - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds