Winter Skies, Kitchen Aglow

Christmas marks the beginning of the summer holiday period in New Zealand. This confounds many a visitor to the Southern Hemisphere. Many New Zealanders celebrate that which makes our Christmas so different to our Northern Hemisphere friends on the planet - there are amusing images of Santa wearing shorts and sporting a tan, reindeer wearing sunglasses, and kiwis on deck chairs knocking back beer...The New Zealand Christmas is one of barbecues, high sun and beaches.

That aside, there is one thing that does hold us back from totally embracing a distinct identity for noel. Our history is partly formed by colonisation of the English, Scottish and French. Many New Zealanders are but a few generations removed from Europe, thus the cultural ties are not totally severed or subverted. My good friend, the intellectually-ferocious and generous Anita, is an Australian of German descent; she and I are in the same boat when it comes to reconciling the amazing Christmas baking of the north with our southern humidity. Anita's grandparents have been kind to share their recipe for stollen.

Stollen is a fruit cake that is made either with cheese or yeast. As we could not find quark, we opted for a mix of cream cheese and ricotta.

Stollen
(by way of German tradition, care of Oma and Opa in Australia)

For the cake:

3 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
8g baking powder
3/4 cups sugar
9g vanilla sugar
4 drops almond flavouring
1/3 cup rum
2 eggs
120g butter, cold
1 1/4 cups combination of cream cheese and ricotta or quark
2 cups dried fruit, such as currants and raisins, macerated in rum for 48 hours
1 1/2 cups ground almonds
3/4 cup citrus peel
250g marzipan, rolled out into two rope-like lengths

For the icing:
1/4 cup melted butter
1/2 cup sifted icing/confectioners' sugar

1) Preheat oven to 160 C/320 F.
2) Into a large bowl, sift together all-purpose flour and baking powder.
3) Add sugars, almond flavouring, run and eggs into flour mixture so that it is combined, then cut in butter until a paste-like substance is formed.
4) Knead cheeses, fruit, ground almonds and citrus peel into paste to make a smooth dough.
5) Separate into two logs. Open each log to place marzipan in the middle, then cover over again so that marzipan is wholly enclosed.
6) Place both loaves on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper.
7) Bake for 50-60 minutes until golden.
8) Once baked, brush loaves with melted butter and sprinkle over with icing sugar.

Do not be afraid to use ALL of the icing sugar. If you are going save the stollen to eat at a later time (which is wise, for it does mature), the icing sugar will be absorbed by the butter, creating a light, delectable icing. To save for later, wrap in foil, then in cling-film and store in a cupboard.

The interesting thing about stollen is that it does not use any mixed spices at all, which is quite traditional in British Christmas fare. However, it does taste of Christmas - dense, dark fruit and nutty almond flavours throughout. The stollen is light in texture yet rich in flavour. I prefer to eat it as it is, but it is also quite acceptable to eat it toasted with jam or other fruit preserves.

Merry Christmas everyone!!

Labels: Cake, Christmas, German, Holidays, Summer

The cherry season properly begins in December in New Zealand. As such, and most being red, cherries are associated with the festivities of Christmas. A Christmas gift this year, from my good friend the sassy Sauciere Queen Lily, is 2 kilograms/4 pounds of Dawson cherries, which were flown up from Cromwell (in the South Island, where cherry trees do particularly well). 2 kilograms is rather a large quantity, and given that cherries do not store well, unlike apples, one has to put them to good use almost immediately.

When presented with such a quantity, it is no wonder that people often turn their hands to making a jam; this is a practical way of handling a glut of cherries. Partial as I am to jam, I have never preserved fruit and will not do so on my own (too scared of doing a poor job and creating an environment for nasty bacteria - perhaps making jam will be my new year's resolution, given that cherries and berries are plentiful for a good while). Other than enjoying them in their natural state, I have a few ideas on what to do with them.

In keeping with the spirit of Christmas, I decided to promptly make an American cherry pie. Actually, good old-fashioned cherry pies typically use canned sour cherries, so I am deviating a little, but not so much as to do away with the original intention and purpose of the cherry pie - to use a substantial amount of them in one fell swoop and to highlight the unusual flavour of the cherry.

The typical filling for cherry pies is made with a large amount of sugar, and the pie itself is typically served à la mode, which is to say with vanilla ice cream. This is probably because sour (tart) cherries are often used and the sweetness of the sugar and ice cream temper the cherries. It seems practical to use sweet cherries in the first instance, as they are generally the most available in New Zealand, and they also require less sugar in the filling. Of course, one does not have to serve ice cream with cherry pie at all; crème fraîche would do the opposite of vanilla ice cream with a naturally sweet cherry pie, for it would act as a mildly tangy foil against the cherries. Dawson cherries can have a slight puckering effect, so I have gone completely middle of the road - a little sugar in the filling and served with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Cherry Pie

For the pie crust (a sugar crust):

1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
4 tablespoons granulated sugar
113g/4oz unsalted butter, diced
5 tablespoons ice cold water

1) Mix flour and sugar together very well.
2) Mix butter into flour mixture with tips of your fingers until incorporated in sand-like granules.
3) Add water, one tablespoon at a time, until dough coheres. A smooth ball should result.
4) Halve the dough, wrap each half in cling-film, flatten dough out to a disc shape, then place in the refrigerator for at least 30 mintues.
5) Roll out one half of the dough on a lightly floured surface with a floured rolling pin.
6) Place into a greased (lightly coated with butter and flour) tart shell or shallow pie dish of 22-25cm/9-10" and allow for some overhang.
7) Put in the refrigerator until you are ready to fill it.
8) When the pie is ready to be filled, roll out the other half of the dough and cut into strips, approximately 2cm/just under 1" wide. You can then use the strips to weave into a lattice or twist to cover the filling. Of course, you could just roll out the dough as normal, place over pie, then crimp the overhang and chop off the excess. If you do this, cut slits in the pie top to allow steam to escape. You can also brush with egg wash for colouring.

For the filling:

Lemon juice from 1/4 medium-sized lemon
4 cups cherries, stoned (or halved then stoned, if you do not have a cherry stoner)
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons cornflour/cornstarch
1 1/2 tablespoons brandy
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1) Put lemon juice and cherries into a bowl. The lemon juice prevents cherries from browning.
2) Add sugar, cornflour, brandy and vanilla extract. Stir well to combine. The cornflour prevents liquid from seeping into the pastry and helpd hold the contents of the pie together when it is cooked.

To complete:

1) Pre-heat oven to 200 C /400 F. Put a lined baking sheet on the middle rack.
2) Remove pie dish/tart shell with dough in it from refrigerator and line it with pie filling, as close to one layer as possible.
3) Cover pie with preferred topping per Step 8 of Pie Crust instructions. You will see that I twisted my strips and simply lay them over the filling. I then used a rolling pin to simultaneously join the strips at the overhang and to remove the excess.
4) Place tart shell/pie dish in oven on baking sheet.
5) After 20 minutes, turn temperature down to 180 C/350 F.
6) Bake for further 40-50 minutes until pie crust is bronzed and filling is bubbling away. For good measure, loosely place foil over the pie after 30 mintues to prevent charred-like appearance.
7) Allow to cool slightly before serving.

The pie crust is perfectly crisp and not at all damp (presumably on account of the sugar). The cherries are inherently slightly tart, but cooking them releases the juices, which gently bubble and amalgamate with the brandy, making for a mouth-filling sensation. Of course, if you prefer a slightly bitter edge, use kirsch instead of brandy - of course, you do not have to use any alcohol at all. A bitter edge can also be achieved by adding ground cherry stones to the flour. The bronzed crust and sparkling pie filling are cheerful, making a gorgeous addition to any Christmas table.

Ahead for us Kiwis (and those visiting New Zealand) is the ripening of many cherry varieties that will become available until early February. My particular favourites are the pale, sweet Rainier and dark, juicy Lapins, which are within reach around my birthday.

Labels: Cherry, Cherry Pie, Christmas, Pie, Summer

I have been to Canada twice: 1997 and 1999. The first time was largely spent visiting family friends on Vancouver Island in the town of Nanaimo. What I mostly remember of that one month in Spring are eating lots of bagels (the first time was a memorable experience, and I could not get enough of cream cheese with dill) and drinking lots of table wine (what else was a late-teen to do?). I also recall that a friend and I established a reputation as "bar stars" because we'd out-dance the hired dancers on the podiums and "vogue" our young hearts out at the Savoy. Oh, how much I loved Madonna's dance remix of "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" back then. And I also remember seeing a school of orcas from a ferry as it traversed the North Pacific Ocean between Vancouver Island and the mainland. My second visit was only for a few days with my angelheart Eric. We had the use of a friend's apartment in downtown Vancouver, a central hub from which to meet old friends and check out what the student film scene had to offer. I remember drinking vodka out of plastic cups and the rude Canadian officials at the Canada-US border (the only seriously rude Canadians I have ever met). Fast-forward almost ten years, and I know so much more about Canada, politically and culturally, not just as a pretty holiday destination. This brings me to Jasmine - you should know her as the author of one of my favourite blogs, Confessions of a Cardamom Addict. Jasmine is co-hosting a food blog event that captures the essence of Canadian food: Mmm...Canada. Jasmine is showcasing the savoury entries, and Jennifer of The Domestic Goddess the sweet ones. While not Canadian myself, I am not oblivious to the vast nation's great people, famous produce (particularly its maple syrup, which I know is a cliché to mention but its B grade, deep amber syrups are amazing) and culinary traditions.

In an effort to submit a dish to Mmm...Canada, I sought assistance from good friends: the fiercely intelligent and generous Anita and the pensive, jack-of-all-trades Craig. One lived in Canada for a few years and the other was born and raised in Ontario, so I figured they were a source of knowledge from which I could benefit. They informed me of a Québécois dish that is rich in flavour, deep in tradition and perfect on bitterly cold days.

Tourtière is a Québécois pork pie. According to a Jim Cummings' article at Quilter Muse, the origin of Tortière lies in France, where pigeons and other game birds were cooked in a deep baking dish that was originally named for tourtes (big game birds), until they became extinct. Early in Canada's colonial years, Tourtière was recognised as a fowl pâté, and now it is a pie that principally substitutes pork for game birds. As is typical of meat pies of Western Europe provenance, variations on Tourtière include many a spice to lift and complement the meat, such as allspice, cinnamon, cloves or nutmeg, in addition to onion or garlic.

Tourtière is a favourite dish at Christmas Eve, which is fitting given that it is almost time to celebrate mid-Winter Christmas in New Zealand. While there are recipes for vegetarian versions of this famous pork pie (which, to my mind, means that they are not Tourtière at all but vegetable pies - nothing wrong with that, of course, but there is no relation to Tourtière, except for the fact that vegetable pies can be cooked in in tourtières), I am from a pork-loving nation and am not interested in uninvesting myself from this traditional Canadian dish. Having said that, there are old English recipes for similar pies, but they are usually jellied, a love for which has not passed down my father's side of the family to me. I'll have pork pie the Canadian way, thank you.

As for the pastry, it almost seems that any pie pastry will do, so I have decided on one that uses shortening - for its depth and flakiness (if nothing else, the pastry must harken back to its French background, and most French pastries are buttery and flaky).

The following recipe is perfect for a 25cm/10" springform pan.

Tourtière
(Adapted from Jill Norman's Winter Food)

For the pastry:

2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
160g/3/4cup vegetable shortening
20g/3/4oz unsalted butter
6 tablespoons iced water

1) Sift flour and salt together into a large bowl.
2) Cut in the shortening and butter with either two knives or a pastry cutter until a texture of coarse cornmeal is achieved. With two knives, this requires a bit of patience. I did not reduce all the shortening to mere flakes, which results in cavities in the pie top, as seen in the photos. If you're the type to lose sleep for fear of not measuring up to perfection, then I suggest that you get a pastry cutter.
3) Add water, one tablespoon at a time. When moist enough to gather into a ball, stop adding water.
4) Wrap in clingfilm and roll out slightly with a rolling pin to form a disc.
5) Chill for one hour.
6) Leave on counter for approximately 20 mintues to allow pastry to come to a temperature at which it is pliable.

For the filling:

1 large potato, peeled and boiled
8 tablespoons cream
2 tablespoons vegetable or sunflower oil
1kg/2lb ground pork
1 onion, chopped
1/2 tablespoon grated nutmeg
1 tablespoon thyme
1 bay leaf
salt
pepper

1) Mash the potato and soak it in the cream.
2) Heat oil in frying pan and add pork and onion, break pork with a wooden spoon.
3) Season with nutmeg, thyme, bay leaf, salt and pepper.
4) Cook until pork juices have evaporated, approximately 20 minutes.
5) Off the heat, remove the bay leaf and stir in the mashed potato, mixing it well with the pork.

To complete the Tourtière:

egg wash, made by breaking an egg into a vessel, lightly beaten with one tablespoon of cream, milk or water.

1) Preheat oven to 200 C/400 F.
2) Prepare your springform pan (butter and flour it).
3) Lightly dust surface to roll out pastry. Dust your hands and the rolling pin with flour, too.
4) Remove one-quarter of the pastry and leave aside.
5) Roll out the pastry and fit into pan (a large enough circle such that there is an overhang).
6) Fill with cooked pork.
7) Roll out remaing pastry to fit pie top. Fold the overhang over and crimp. You should see before folding the overhang over if there is excess pastry - remove it.
8) Brush egg wash over surface.
9) Cut a hole in the centre of the pie top.
10) Bake until pastry is deeply golden.

The nose knows when this is ready. It is amazing that such simple ingredients can almagamate to a richly satisfying dish. The flaky pastry is a dream - even though it takes a good chunk of time to cut shortening into flour, the texture and flavour make the time spent very worthwhile. Its richness complement the pork, and the few herbs and spices used give added depth of complementary flavours. Served with a dollop of Greek yoghurt and spicy relish on the side, Tourtière is festive and rich without being over the stop.

Those Canadians sure know a good thing when they taste one. Mmm...Canada!

Post-script: Please visit Jasmine's round-up of the savoury edition of Mmm...Canada, and please go here for the sweet edition.

Labels: Canada, Christmas, Food Blog Event, Jill Norman, Pie, Pork, Pork pie, Quebec

Merry Christmas!

Not only did my angelheart Eric and I manage an afternoon tea and gift exchange with his family, but we also prepared a Christmas dinner for our transient and special guests - one visiting (sassy Sauciere Queen Lily), a couple moving away (stylish and effervescent Ailene and her hubby, espresso-loving and ruminating Mirko), and another embarking on a trip overseas (divine poetess Suzanne). Because it would be a long time before we could all sit around the same table again, my angelheart Eric and I set about creating a rich Christmas meal of intense yet comforting flavors.

Suzanne brought her now famous onion bread, and Ailene and Mirko brought spinach and artichoke dip. This was accompanied with bagna cauda, a recipe from Andrea Froncilla and Jennifer Jeffrey's The Stinking Rose Restaurant Cookbook, which I also made for Weekend Cookbook Challenge #11. For the main, we had osso buco, which was followed by molten chocolate babycakes.

For the main, we decided on one of our Winter mainstays and one of Mirko's favorite meals, osso buco. This Piemontese specialty is traditionally made with veal shanks, but we went with beef shanks that were trimmed and cut perfectly by the wonderful butchers at Wild Oats (they can do no wrong in our eyes). Osso buco is a braised meal, so it is perfectly tender every time and well infused with the trinity (celery, onions, and carrots) and bouquet garni. My favorite part, as is typical of most osso buco lovers, is the bone marrow, which is hearty and succulent, rich with the essence of meat. Atop a bed of the vegetables with which it has braised, osso buco is a robust meal that perfectly matches the convivial setting of a Christmas dinner with the dearest of friends. This recipe is enough to serve eight, but my angelheart Eric and the espresso-loving and ruminating Mirko got two shanks each - after all, it is Christmas.

The dessert, molten chocolate babycakes, comes by way of Nigella Lawson's gift to those lovingly and willingly chained to the kitchen, How To Be A Domestic Goddess. The cakes are always a hit, for they are laden with gorgeous bittersweet chocolate, the darker and richer the better (I try to go for that which is either from Cote d'Ivoire or Switzerland, but I have yet to try Green and Blacks). No one forgets this rich dessert whether it's highlighting a cozy meal for two (as my angelheart Eric and I have done on occasion) or underscoring an evening of merry-wishing.

Osso buco

Bouquet garni, a few sprigs of fresh: parsley, basil, rosemary, thyme, and 1 dry bay leaf
8 beef shanks
Sea salt and fresh ground pepper
All Purpose flour for dredging
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 1/2 small onions, diced into 1/2 inch cubes
2 small carrots, diced into 1/2 inch cubes (or use a handful of baby carrots)
2 fennels, cut into eighths
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 1/2 cup dry white wine
3 cups chicken stock
1 pinch saffron, rested in hot water

1) Make two bouquet garnis and secure with kitchen twine.
2) For the beef shanks, pat dry to remove excess moisture, then secure meat to the bone with kitchen twine.
3) Season each shank with salt and pepper.
4) Dredge the shanks in seasoned flour, then shake off the excess.
5) In a dutch oven, heat vegetable oil until smoking before adding the shanks. Brown on all sides, approximately 3 minutes per side, then reserve.
6) In the same pot, add the onion, carrot, and celery. Season with salt to draw out the moisture from the vegetables and saute until soft and translucent, approximately 8 minutes.
7) Add the tomato paste and saffron with its liquid. Mix well.
8) Return browned shanks to the dutch oven and add the white wine and reduce the liquid by half, about 5 minutes.
9) Add bouqet garnis and 2 cups of chicken stock.
10) Bring stock to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover the pan, and simmer for about 1 1/2 hours or until the meat is falling off the bone. Check every 15 or so minutes, turning the shanks and adding more chicken stock as necessary, for the cooking liquid should come up 3/4 of the way up the shank.
11) Once cooked, carefully remove the shanks from the pot and serve over the vegetables. Cut off the twine and discard.
12) Remove and discard the bouquet garnis and pour juices and sauce from pot over the shanks.

Molten Chocolate Babycakes
(from Nigella Lawson's How To Be A Domestic Goddess)

1/4 cup soft unslated butter, plus more for greasing
12 oz bittersweet chocolate
1/2 cup sugar
4 large eggs, beaten with a pinch of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/3 cup all-purpose flour




1) Preheat oven to 400 deg. f. (200 deg. c.), putting in a baking sheet at the same time.
2) Put parchment paper in the base of each ramekin, for it helps ease out the babycakes once baked.
3) Melt the chocolate and let it cool slightly.
4) Cream together the butter and sugar, and slowly beat in the eggs, followed by the vanilla.
5) Add the flour and combine until smooth.
6) Scrape in the cooled chocolate and blend again until a smooth batter is achieved.
7) Divide batter amongst buttered ramekins (Nigella uses 6 custard cups; I use 7 ramekins) that have been fitted with parchment paper.
8) Put ramekins on the baking sheet and bake for 10 minutes (or for 12 minutes if you have made the batter in advance and pulled it from the fridge).
9) Once baked, turn babycakes onto small plates or shallow bowls and, for contrast, serve with something cold (we served the babycakes with homemade coffee ice cream).

Merry Christmas everyone!

Labels: Chocolate, Christmas, Holidays, Nigella Lawson, Osso buco, Shanks