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.

Bits and Pieces of 2010

Good afternoon bloggers, and welcome to perhaps the most overdue post of A Whistle and A Milkshake’s life. I must admit I’ve neglected this blog recently... but I have excuses! In fact several infuriating factors have precluded me from logging on. Exploding laptops, shaped internet, and that ever present guilty feeling that keeps me from blogging at work. Nonetheless, this post is just disgustingly overdue. I've got a long list of recipes and tunes to catch up on, so please bear with me, this could be a bit of a mess...

So what have I been up to lately? Well, the last month or so has seen me busily preparing Christmas hampers for my friends and family. I think hampers make a great alternative to the usual Christmas gift giving. Personal, equitable (everybody gets the same thing!) and a pleasure to prepare. Oh, and I haven't had to set foot in a shopping centre this December, an added bonus given that inner city Melbourne is an orgy of gift-grabbing craziness at this time of year. This year I've made lime jelly, turkish delight, chocolate truffles and incredibly delicious but hard-to-master macarons. Rather a lot of work has gone into preparing and packaging these little bits and pieces, but with the help of my partner and a couple of charitable friends, it's all coming together quite nicely. Expect a couple more posts on the specifics of hamper making soon, including a post about macarons and the importance of reading the recipe.

What else have the last few months meant for me? In light of my recent transition back to vegetarianism, I've been trying to wrap my head around as many new vegetarian and vegan recipes as is humanly possible. I've memorised so many uses for the humble chick pea that I fear I may be pushing important names and dates from my memory, but exploring vegan cooking in particular has been hugely rewarding. Messy Vegetarian Cook is an excellent veg and vegan blog, with recipes for everything from sweet potato pie to japanese inspired tapioca rice balls - vastly more delicious than they sound. I'm also loving Vegan Yum Yum for the great salads, and I finally tracked down my very own copy of the inestimably wonderful Veganomicon. A great addition to any kitchen, whether one is vegan or not. But I'm not just reading recipes, I've also read a great number of books on all things vegetarian: Johathan Safran-Foer's Eating Animals is a deeply affecting read from one of my favourite authors. I've also read The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan, Peter Singer's Practical Ethics (quite the heavy going tome) and perhaps my favourite non-fiction book of the year The Face on Your Plate by Jeffrey Moussaieff Mason: a psycho-analyst, and a strict vegan. The man is sixty eight years old and looks younger than my fifty year old father. His spritely looks and way with words have me inching ever closer to a completely vegan diet.

Oh! and music! What have I been listening to? Glenn Richards released his new solo effort Glimjack, and I've played the thing so much that every note is now committed to memory. The album is wonderful. Dark, full of self-deprecating complaint and bitterness, and yet occasionally so breathtakingly lovely as to cover me in goosebumps. "I'm the soldier who in his dead hours, took the flesh of the horse and made only joy, then to faint in the flowers, to dream of his woman's kiss and of the April showers of home" - the man still has it people.

Joanna Newsom's epic Have One On Me has also received several thousand plays this year. It's just about as good as everyone has been saying. I don't have the words to do the thing justice, so you should probably listen to it for yourself. Try this for starters:

Other bands that have featured prominently include The Jezabels, who have released three EP's to date and put on perhaps the most impressive live show I have seen this year. Jónsi's debut solo effort Go Do worked it's way to the top of my scrobbling list and induced the odd sneaky tram cry on my morning commutes (it's just beautiful). I've also been listening to Seabellies, Firekites, and the debut EP from Brisbane band Pensive Penguin. Three lovely Australian bands whose tunes suggest car rides with the windows down despite the fact that summer still seems very far away indeed. More on these guys soon, I hope!

So there you have it. A long, rambling brain dump of everything that I have been intending to blog about over the last few months. I have three complete blog posts sitting on my old laptop. They appear to be written entirely in something like windings, so if any of you know how to repair a corrupt word file please let me know? In the meantime I'll try to muster the energy to write the things again. I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions, but I promise to bore you all with long, confused blog posts throughout 2011. Xx.

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)

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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:

AWAM Reviews... Simply Better Foods Omega 3 Soy Cheese

Before I share with you the abject horror that was my first ever taste of a non-dairy cheese product, let me just say that I really, really wanted to like Simply Better Foods Omega 3 Soy Cheese. I would love to make the switch to a vegan diet, really I would, not least of all because I've always been a little lactose intolerant... but I have frequently sacrificed my digestive comfort for a three cheese gnocchi. Cheese and I, we go way back, and I'm yet to convince myself that my life would be OK without cheese in it.

Perhaps the first clue that Simply Better Foods Omega 3 Soy Cheese was not going to fulfil my fantasies of vegan cheese bliss was in the black shroud style packaging that precluded me from examining the product before I had actually purchased it. Word to the wise: if your cheese manufacturer is trying to stop you from actually seeing your cheese, maybe rethink your selection.

Once out of the packaging my soy cheese really didn't look too bad. It was yellow, just as a tasty cheese should be, but oddly perfect. More like a pale yellow door stop than a foodstuff. But shit got weird pretty damn quickly when the autofocus on my SLR refused to focus on the cheese. This stuff is so consistent a shade of yellow that my camera mistook it for a white balance card and just hands down refused to focus on it. I was forced to photograph my chopping board rather than the product itself, so please excuse the slightly blurry photography.

At this point, I was understandably feeling some trepidation about placing this cheese imitation in my mouth. The confusion that was trying to photograph it had left me feeling as though I was about to eat a piece of soy-based antimatter, but upon reflection I think eating black hole may have been a better experience than what actually ensued. Simply Better Foods Omega 3 Soy Cheese tasted at first like a kraft single, then an overwhelming vegetable oil flavour broke through. This was followed by a lingering bitter aftertaste, and a sense of crushing, crushing disappointment.

Soy milk doesn't exactly taste like cow's milk, but you know what? One thing it doesn't do is make me want to spit it into the sink. The only way I was actually able to consume my cheese was to roll it in a generous amount of moroccan seasoning, and even then the revolting, mouth-full-of-oil flavour still managed to prevail. I am sincerely hoping that my first foray into soy cheese was a sad accident, that I chose the worst of the worst of the fake cheeses, and that perhaps some day I will be able to eat tiger toast without worrying about the happiness of the cows from whence it came, but seriously - I have nothing positive to say about this product. Truly revolting.

No Stars. Count em'. None.

AWAM Reviews...Tofutti

A few months ago I had me a big ole flat white coffee. And I had the following conversation with my stomach.

Me: Hey stomach! I know it's been a while, but how good is milk?
Stomach: Oh! Well this is awkward. See, the thing is.... we're not gonna be digesting that anymore.
Me: What are you - you can't just do that.
Stomach: No, I'm...I'm pretty sure I can.
Me: I'm not going to stop having dairy.
Stomach: Well then this is not going to be fun for you.

It wasn't. To add insult to injury, I've always loathed soy milk. It's milk...made from beans. Something has gone terribly wrong there. I don't believe nature intends anything for anyone, but I'm sure the humble soybean never thought: One day I'm going to be milk.

And yet here I am, months later, having finally accepting that I am, in fact, a lactard. And that soy milk is not so bad - I actually prefer it in my coffee these days. I'm slowly dipping my toe in the water of other dairy substitutes, and it is in that spirit that I decided to review the endearingly named cream cheese substitute, Tofutti.



If I was apprehensive of making milk out of beans, I was positively terrified that someone had attempted cheese. I wouldn't have bought it if I hadn't already absentmindedly bought english muffins. You can't have english muffins without cream cheese. It's the law.



Happily, it turns out cream cheese is not too hard to imitate. Although the Tofutti is disconcertingly white, the taste and texture are pleasant enough, and almost exactly the same as cream cheese. Well. Lite cream cheese.

Tofutti doesn't taste anything like real cream cheese in exactly the same way that lite cream cheese doesn't. But that is good enough for this lady's breakfast.

*** (3 stars)

Sunday Night Surprises.

Sometimes, you have one of those nights where you chuck whatever is in your fridge into a saucepan, and something wonderful is born. This was one of those nights. I can't claim most of the credit - the key ingredient in this recipe is the punjabi masala on Show Me the Curry. I made this up a couple of months ago (although I halved the recipe) and I'm discovering that I adore having it in the freezer - it's a fantastic base for a quick meal.

I had some eggplant, red capsicum and cherry tomatoes that were getting a bit old (left over from pizza adventures) and I always have tinned tomatoes and cous cous on hand. Throw in some of your favourite spices, and there you are. I'm not sure you could reasonably call it authentic Indian - it's more like Indian meets Italian - but it was pretty dang tasty either way. So tasty we nommed it before I remembered to take a photo. This post is brought to you by public domain images of eggplant!



A Sort of Eggplant Masala (serves 2)

You will need:

Olive oil
1 small eggplant
1 small red capsicum, finely diced.
1 punnet of cherry or grape tomatoes, halved.
1 tin of tomatoes
1/2 cup punjabi masala1/2 cup water
1 tsp mustard seeds
1/2 tbsp cumin
1/2 tbsp ground coriander (or a bit more, to taste)
1/2 tbsp ground cardamom
1/4 tsp dried chili seeds (or more. I'm a bit of a wimp)
Salt
1/2 cup dry cous cous
1/2 cup boiling water
1 tsp butter (optional, vegan without)
Fried shallots, to serve.


You will need to:

Cut your eggplant into thin strips, about 3cm by 1cm. Toss in olive oil, and lay on a well oiled baking tray. Salt generously. Grill for about 15 minutes on medium high, or until golden brown, but not charred.

Heat a non-stick saucepan or frying pan. When hot, add mustard seeds and dry-fry for a minute or so.

Add the (defrosted) masala, the capsicum, and the cherry tomatoes. Stir together and fry for a further few minutes.

Add the tinned tomatoes, spices and water. Simmer for about ten minutes, until thickened.

Add the eggplant, and cook together for about five minutes. Adjust the spices and seasoning to taste.

Prepare your cous cous by adding the boiling water, covering, and letting stand for five minutes. Stir through the butter.

And serve with fried shallots. It makes for a rather nice Sunday night.

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.