True Eggplant

For the last couple of months or so, Monday nights have been known as True Blood nights. We gather at a friend's house, eat delicious eggplant-centric dishes, play with an adorable kitten and gradually work our way through 3 seasons of vampire flavoured ridiculousness. It's a pretty great tradition. I'm not sure how the eggplant came into it. But after a few weeks, having a True Blood night without eggplant seemed as odd as a TB episode without blood. Or boobs. Or Eric.

So I've been racking up the eggplant recipes. And making them up, as needs be. One of them worked out pretty dang well, so I thought I'd share it with you here.

Eggplant and Lentil Soup (serves 5)

(adapted from an amazing lentil soup recipe sent to me by this cupcake queen)

This soup is my new favourite thing ever. It's simple to make, warm, spicy, nourishing, and fucking delicious. Serve it with some crusty wholemeal bread and red wine, and you have yourselves the perfect accompaniment to some tasty vampire melodrama.

What you need:

2 cloves of garlic
1 large eggplant

2 tins of tomato

1 tin of brown lentils. Make it 2 if you really love your lentils

1/2 tbsp of butter (vegan if you use oil)

3 cups veggie stock

1 tsp turmeric

1/2 tsp garam masala

1/2 tsp ground ginger

1/2 tsp yellow mustard seeds

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp dried chilli flakes (more or less to taste)

.

.

What you need to do:

Wash and then dice the eggplant into bite size pieces, about 2cm square.

Steam over boiling water for 5 - 8 minutes, covered and turning occasionally. Remove when tender, but still firm. You'll want to taste, not just poke.

Fry the garlic in the butter for a couple of minutes, and then add the drained lentils.

Saute for a couple minutes longer, and then add the tinned tomatoes, stock and spices.

Throw in the eggplant, and cook together for about ten minutes

Then enjoy with a little bit of this:

Fuck You Winter

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You know, I love scarves. And coats. And gloves with bows on them. And I like it when your breath fogs in the cold, and you can pretend you're a smoker (you may also like to pretend you work with Donald Draper). I love frost that lasts until midday, air that tastes like snow, and the fog on Lake Burley Griffin.

I like winter. But you know what? I am tired of being freezing cold all the time. If you live in Canberra you're probably going to work while the temperature is below zero. That's just not right. I don't think the work day should begin until the temperature's back in the pluses. Just a suggestion, Stanhope.

But I write (sitting on top of the heater in my lounge room) with an idea: eat soup all the time. I admit it's nothing revolutionary. People have been fighting winter with soup since the dawn of time. Or at least the dawn of soup. But if you're yet to break out the soup pot, here's a recipe to get you started. It's adapted from the wonderful cook book Moosewood Restaurant Daily Special. The Moosewood Restaurant is a New York State based collective, with an emphasis on organic, vegetarian, wholesome food. Read more about them here. This soup reminds me of the best of winter: home, hearth and heart.



Tomato, Barley and Spinach Soup

The original recipe calls for kale and sun-dried tomatoes not packed in oil. I couldn't find either, so I used spinach and roasted some fresh tomatoes. It turned out rather lovely.

What You Will Need

1/3 cup pearl barley
2 bay leaves
5 cups water
7 large fresh tomatoes
1 tbsp olive oil
salt and pepper
2 garlic cloves, minced or crushed
1 red onion, diced
2 400ml tins of crushed tomatoes
1 tsp dried rosemary
1 generous pinch of cayenne pepper
2 cups of fresh, washed spinach or kale

What you will need to do

Preheat your oven to 170 degrees C.

Halve the fresh tomatoes, and toss with olive oil, salt and pepper. Place cut side down on a lightly oiled baking tray, and then put into the oven. Roast for 30 minutes minimum (there really isn't a maximum when it comes to roasting tomatoes).

Combine water, bay leaves and barley in a soup pot (non-reactive is best) and bring to the boil. Simmer for 20 minutes.

In a separate pan, fry onion and garlic until soft and translucent, 10 - 15 minutes.

When the barley is cooked remove the bay leaves and add cooked onion and garlic, tinned tomatoes, rosemary, and cayenne.

Remove the tomatoes from the oven, and slip the skins off. Discard the skins. Roughly chop or break up the tomatoes, and add to the soup.

Simmer for a further 10 minutes, or until soup is the desired thickness.

Add the spinach or kale, and stir through until wilted.

Serve with some bread, some wine, some friends, and a finger raised to the heavens.

Spanish Melodrama: Balsamic Roast Vegetable and Couscous Salad

You know, I love cooking - but I hate deciding what to cook. I love grocery shopping, but I often get overwhelmed with choice. A few months ago, these factors conspired in the worst way, and I ended up calling a friend of mine from the supermarket in a slight panic.

"Okay, so I know you'll be at my house in about half an hour, but I'm still at the shops. I have about 10 bucks, no idea what to cook and I'm staring at a wall of tinned tomatoes like a rabbit in headlights."

"Right. Do you have couscous?"

"Yep."

"Buy some vegetables. And some wine. I'll sort you out."

We ended up watching 'The Flower of my Secret' that night, a Spanish melodrama by director Pedro Almodovar. And we ended up eating a delicious balsamic roast vegetable salad that has since become an absolute staple in my house. It's cheap, easy, and works with all sorts of vegetables. It's great warm for dinner, and cold for lunch the next day.

Sophie's Couscous Salad

What you will need:

Veggies
1 large eggplant
1 large zucchini
2 punnets cherry, grape or baby roma tomatoes
1 red capsicum
3 thinly sliced shallots

Marinade
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1/4 olive oil
1 tbsp brown sugar
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
A splash of red wine vinegar
Salt & pepper

1 cup couscous
1 cup boiling water
200gms soft fetta

What you will need to do:

1. Preheat your oven to 200 C

2. Dissolve brown sugar with 1 tbsp hot water in a large bowl. Add your other marinade ingredients and whisk well to combine. Season to taste - the marinade should not be immediately sweet, but you should be able to taste the sugar on the finish.

3. Dice zucchini and eggplant into 1-2cm cubes, and slice capsicum into pieces roughly the same size. Cut in half about 2/3rds of your cherry tomatoes, and leave the others whole. I try to leave the smallest ones whole, and halve the rest. Thinly slice shallots.

4. Combine the vegetables in the bowl with the marinade. Stir thoroughly, making sure everything is coated. Let sit for around half an hour, if you have time. Maybe now you would like to clean the kitchen? Have a cup of tea? Call your mum? Clean the house up frantically before your guests arrive? Good idea.

5. Line a baking tray, or two, with tinfoil. This really is a good idea, because the sugar in the marinade makes everything a bit sticky. Chuck your vegetables on the trays, drizzling any excess liquid over the top.

6. Roast for about 20 - 30 minutes. I like the eggplant, capsicum and tomatoes to be well done, but the zucchini should still have a bit of bite to it. When done, put the vegetables in a large, heatproof salad bowl.

7. I normally prepare couscous in a measuring cup. Simply measure out the desired amount, and pour the same amount again of boiling water on top. Stir with a fork, and then cover and let sit for about five minutes. Stir again, and then mix through the vegetables.

8. Serve while still warm, in individual bowls with crumbled up fetta on top.


And if you've got them, some garlic bread, red wine and Spanish melodrama go nicely, too.

My Cooking Show Crush

Look at them. They are your friends.

I enjoy your Masterchef and your Ready Steady Cook as much as the next lass (although the latter, I must admit, only when I’m at home sick and too weak to change the channel after Oprah) but my cooking show heart belongs truly to the Cook and the Chef.

Maggie Beer and Simon Bryant. So enthusiastic. So endearing. So constantly delighted by food. From the awkwardness and slight tension of the first season, to the easy banter and teasing of the later episodes, I love them all. The cheesy opening credits. The slightly laboured segues. The way Simon will leave out the chilli so Maggie can try something, the way Maggie can’t keep her fingers out of her food. The way neither of them are very comfortable on TV, but very happy to be there.

And of course, the food. I thought I’d share a couple of great vegetarian recipes from their site: Leek and Cheese Tart and Moussaka.

Leek and Cheese Tart


(original recipe here, although as I made one main instead of five entrees, I’ve made some modifications)

• 1 pre baked tart shell (I used short crust pasty)

• 1 leek, sliced

• 20g butter

• 10ml olive oil

• 2 medium potatoes, thinly sliced

• 30g parmesan cheese, grated

• 100g cheese, cubed (I used swiss, but I reckon it’d be better with goat’s)

• 1 tsp dried thyme

• 2 dried bay leaves

• 140ml cream

• 2 eggs

First, if you’re using frozen pastry, blind bake it, and then leave oven at 180.

Heat butter and oil in a frypan, add the leeks and sauté for a few minutes. Season, add thyme, bay leaves and sliced potatoes. If you sliced your potatoes quite thinly, take off the heat after a minute. If they’re thicker, let them cook longer.

Arrange vegetables in tart shell, without the bay leaves.

Combine cream and eggs and pour over your veggies. Drop cubes of cheese on top, and sprinkle with parmesan.

Bake in oven until set, it took about 25 minutes for me. As tasty as this was for dinner, it was even nicer cold for lunch the next day. Thanks, Maggie and Simon!

Moussaka


(Recipe here)

I’ve never made moussaka before, but anything in which eggplant has a starring role is fine by me. Do go and check out the version on their website – it’s divine. I must admit, onion, lemon and thyme was a quiet revelation. Do make sure the fried eggplant rests on absorbent paper, though, this is quite an oil heavy dish and it can get a bit rich. To cut through the richness, I made a sweet and easy tomato sauce to have on the side. It really was a case of throwing anything that was closest into the pan, and it ended up quite a happy little accident.

Tomato and Portobello Sauce

• 15 g butter

• 3 Portobello mushrooms, stems removed

• 400g tinned tomato (whole or diced, either will work)

• 1 clove of garlic

• ½ tsp chilli seeds

• 1 tsp garam masala

• ¼ cup red wine

• Lemon

Heat the butter in a fry pan over a medium heat. Add the mushrooms and sauté for about 5 minutes.

Throw in the chopped garlic, chili seeds and garam masala. Cook for a further 2 minutes.

Add the tomato and cook down until thickened (about 10 minutes) and then stir through the red wine about 5 minutes before taking off the heat.

Give it a squeeze of lemon to finish, and serve with your moussaka and a light green salad. It ain't fancy, but it sure is tasty.

Roast Tomato and Capsicum Soup, Oh My

Oh my god, you guys! Welcome to soup week. Or, Week O' Soup, as I think of it.

It seems right to have our first themed week dedicated to soup. Who doesn’t love it? If you're rocking the student lifestyle, it’s perfect for either entertaining, or feeding you for a week, whichever you prefer. And it’s so adaptable – get some delicious base ingredients, and play around with methods, herbs and spices and you can get fantastic variations out of one simple recipe.

Which is what I did with the following – craving something with tomato and capsicum one chilly winter evening I got on my internet machine and hunted up a recipe. Souvlaki for the Soul didn’t disappoint with his Roast Capsicum and Tomato Soup. The perfect accompaniment to a winter night on the couch with friends indulging in the Jurassic Park trilogy.

The first time I made it was to the letter, with a sweet, rich tomato soup as end product. The second time I made it I adjusted to what was in my cupboard, substituting fresh flat leaf parsley for basil, paprika for chili, and using fennel and oregano to season the roasting tomatoes instead of balsamic vinegar. I ended up with a lovely robust winter soup, with vegetable stock flavours that really brought out the potato and capsicum, and a delightful warm red colour that really brought out the carnage in Jurassic Park 2.

Tomato and Capsicum Soup
Original recipe here.

What You Will Need

• 8 roma tomatoes, halved lengthways

• 2 large red capsicums

• 1 large or 2 medium desiree or red rascal potatoes

• 2 cloves of garlic

• Olive oil

• 2 tsp Fennel seeds

• 1/2 cup fresh flat leaf parsley

• 1 generous tbsp ground paprika

• A few good shakes dried oregano
  

• 2 cups vegetable stock
  

• Good ole salt and pepper
  

What You Will Need to Do

• Preheat your oven to 160 degrees C

• Chop capsicum into pieces that sit relatively flat on a baking tray.

• Halve your tomatoes and place face down, with capsicum, on an oiled baking tray.

• Drizzle with oil, minced garlic, fennel seeds, dried oregano and salt and pepper.

• Place in oven, set timer for at least 45 minutes.

• If you have extra time, my suggestion is the longer the better!

Your veggies should look something like this going into the oven (if you mood lit them, like I apparently did) :

And something like this coming out:


Mmmm, wrinkly.

• About ten or fifteen minutes before the tomato and capsicum is done, cube the potato and fry in a soup pot, with a little bit of salt, pepper, paprika, and olive oil.

• When potato is tender add tomato paste, and fry for a further minute.

• Add the fresh parsley, roasted tomato and capsicum, stir together.

• Add stock and bring to the boil.

• Blend it to hell with a bamix, or until smooth.

• Salt and pepper to taste.
  

You soup should look something like this before you blend it:

And something like this, after:

Speaking of things from the '90s that make me happy (dinosaurs on the big screen, mostly!) if you've been meaning to get into Pavement, now is the time:

We Dance - from Wowee Zowee
Embassy Row - from Brighten the Corners
Billie - from Terror Twilight

Here Comes the Night - Slow Roast Tomatoes

In celebration of the birth of this blog, I'm starting our first post half way through the recipe I plan to post. I figure it's in keeping with my cooking style – a little shambolic, a lot make-it-up-as-I-go-along, and plenty of learning-by-doing.

Firstly, your young ladies of means would like to thank Chris Thorpe for designing this lovely place.

And now, my first attempt at slow roasting tomatoes.

It's the height of summer in the Capitol, and after a trip to the markets this morning and a picnic on the lawns of Old Parliament House I'm left with the urge to cook, but not to eat.

A full belly and a face full of sunburn attest to a terrific lazy afternoon in the sun, celebrating a friend's birthday with cucumber sandwiches, mini frittatas, scones, and plenty of champagne. The mini frittatas will be the subject of a future post, but for now it's all about tomatoes.

Stripy or Russian, green, yellow or red, possibly demonic, a member of the deadly nightshade family, and perhaps introduced to Italy by two catholic priests sometime in the 16th century. And my, my, haven't they done wonders with it since.

My plan for the three kilos I bought super cheap at my local markets is slow roasting, and subsequently, pizza, pasta and lasagna. Tonight, I'm hoping I can stand the heat of the oven until the night hits and I can open the house up.

What You Will Need:

olive oil
black pepper
salt (rock or sea, fresh ground is best)
about 2 teaspoons crushed fennel seeds
1 – 2 tablespoons dried Italian herbs
about 15 – 20 tomatoes

What You Will Need to Do:

Preheat your oven to 140 degrees celsius

Oil a large baking tray (shallow is fine – mine was about as wide as my oven, and fit 30 tomato halves)

Sprinkle the oiled tray liberally with fresh cracked black pepper and salt, and most of the Italian herbs and crushed fennel

Cut tomatoes in half , and place face down on oiled tray, rub the outside with a little extra oil, and chuck on some more s&p, herbs and fennel

Place in oven

Enjoy the smell of roasting tomatoes for roughly six hours, and then...

At this point (if you started at six in the evening like I did) it will be midnight, and your housemates will have gone to bed. Take the tomatoes out of the oven, and let cool. Slip the skins off (if you want, I didn't bother) and store in an airtight container in the fridge or freezer.

But before you do that last bit, put one half of a tomato on a piece of toast with some fresh ricotta, a dash of balsamic and a little more cracked pepper, stand near an open window and enjoy your very own home made slow roasted tomatoes (which go very well with a summer night breeze).

Listen to Here Comes the Night (Augie March, Sunset Studies)