Winter Skies, Kitchen Aglow

Thanksgiving is a beautiful time of the year in the United States. Leaves on deciduous trees have truly turned and have all but given way to winter, biting winds require an extra layer or two, and candlelight beaming through foggy windows signal welcome and comfort. These are the images I have of my many Thanksgiving celebrations in southern California with my angelheart Eric, our family and dearest friends. Now that we live in my home country, New Zealand, we have to adapt the tradition to our antipodean lifestyle. This year, it has got off to a quiet start - just a light summery dinner. Even so, it was important we acknowledged this special time for sharing and gathering in between calls to family.

Of course, we recollected the many great meals we've had at this time of year, not all of which we made ourselves - our family and friends are really good cooks. This really put us in the mood to think about how else we could make a culinary nod to the US over the weekend. Unfortuntely, one of our sources for inspiration, Gourmet magazine, published its last issue this month. (There's no coverage of that in the magazine itself, so I'm not sure if this is a graceful note on which to leave the publishing world, or if the plug was suddenly pulled.) We turned to this final issue for guidance and came up with Golden Onion Pie.

Gourmet writers added a twist to Zwiebelkuchen, which is a German yeasted dough onto which is cooked steamed onions, bacon and caraway seeds. Instead of a plank of dough, this twist is a pie-like creation, sweet with caramelised onions, tamed with sour cream, though I added yoghurt and a bit of cream instead.

Epicurious has a catalogue of all Gourmet's recipes now, so it is not lost forever. The recipe for Golden Onion Pie can be found here.

We swapped out one brown onion for a red one to underscore our nod to fall in the US, the beautiful mingling of bronze and red. The dough is very easy to work with and can be left overnight, whether covered in a lightly oiled bowl or covered and lightly dusted with flour to slowly rise in the fridge. It stretches well and behaves very well - it also helps that it is muggy here in Auckland, so we didn't have to worry so much about draughts. Overall, the pie is sweet and substantial, symbolic, really, of Thanksgiving (putting aside the difficult task of reconciling the joy of finding a new home and the crimes committed on which successful colonisation was dependent). This was our mellow way of giving thanks, to finding each other, to being together, to having healthy family and friends, to having shared many a lovely memory.

The only bitter note, for us, is that we could not celebrate with family and friends in the States. At least we were able to build on the tradition of turning to Gourmet, even if it will now be absent from magazine racks all over the world - I only hope, of course, that the many talented contributors find worthwhile enterprises through which they can share their cooking talents and views on food trends and food politics.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Labels: Gourmet, Holidays, Onions, Pie, Thanksgiving

As much as I love cakes, I sometimes avoid making them. This is principally because I cannot always be bothered combining butter and sugar until they bond into a pale yellow cream, which, first of all, requires that butter be soft. When one bakes, sometimes it's on the spur of the moment, but with baking cakes, one has to be prepared. On account of more often making pastry dough for tarts and pies, I rely on the butter conditioner in the fridge to keep butter firm. Consequently, I actually have to plan ahead to soften butter. Yes, this is a minor matter, but if I want a cake within an hour of thinking about making one, then it is impossible to see this through without softened butter. So, what is a man to do? Well, I find a way around it, of course, and in doing so I often turn to desserts that use melted butter or that dispense of butter altogether.

Today's cake is in the vein of an ice cream cake. It is, in fact, a riff on a dessert that was popular in England from the Elizabethan era to the 19th Century and seems to have found mild resurrgence in current cookery books by British chefs and cooks: syllabub. Syllabub is cream that has been whipped, sweetened with sugar, spiced with nutmeg, soured with lemon juice, and fortified with alcohol, often wine or port. Mixed together, the boozy cream would be left to set up in a cold spot before serving. It is the simplest of desserts, and I am dumfounded that I never thought to freeze it before, like Philly ice cream, until I recently noticed Nigel Slater's recipe for Lemon ice-cream tart with gingernut crust in his inspiring The Kitchen Diaries, a book I've had since it was published in 2005, but, for some reason or another, had not previously registered the genius behind this particular recipe - it is funny how you can read something ten times and can still be surprised, isn't it? I guess with cooking, we're drawn to different flavours and ideas at different times...

Frozen Orange Syllabub Cake
(adapted from Nigel Slater's Lemon Ice-Cream Tart with Gingernut Crust in The Kitchen Diaries)

For the Crust:

400g/14 oz Gingernuts or other ginger cookies
120g/4 oz unsalted butter

1) Line the base of a loose-bottomed 25cm/10" cake tin with greaseproof paper.
2) Crush the ginger cookies to a coarse crumb or a fine powder, depending on the sort of crust you want for your cake.
3) Melt the butter, then stir in the crushed ginger cookies.
4) Pour the mixture into the cake tin, pushing it with your fingers to cover both the base and the sides of the tin - focus more on getting it properly covered than making sure the crust is equally level around the summit.
5) Put the tin in the freezer while you work on the filling.

For the Filling:

150ml white wine
2 tablespoons brandy
zest and juice of 2 oranges
zest of 1 lemon
4 tablespoons sugar
500ml cream

1) Put all ingredients into a bowl and beat slowly until thick, falling in soft folds.

For the Pie:

1) Pour the filling into the crust.
2) Freeze for at least four hours.
3) Remove from freezer 15-20 minutes before serving.

It is evident that this is not meant to be presented at a sophisticated affair, what with the crust being so free-form, but it is perfectly charming. The flavours, of course, are what matter, and they are as intense as the texture is dreamy, like eating sweet clouds.

It does seem too easy for words, but I ask that you try this recipe and adapt it at a whim. Swap out the orange for lime and brandy for midori or tequila, or use cherry juice and kirsh with a crust made with amaretti - the possibilities are endless and delightful. Nothing warms me more than a good dessert, and I will now count this as one of my very favourites. I wonder what other creams of old can be adapted in a similar way...

Labels: Brandy, Nigel Slater, Orange, Pie, Syllabub

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

It is with great pleasure that I have been asked by Sara at i like to cook and Mary at The Sour Dough to review this cookery book. Now, I am hardly the sea-faring type, but I have often wondered, all romantic and wide-eyed, what is eaten aboard passenger and cargo vessels. One often hears of the buffets on the liners that hopscotch around the Caribbean islands, but what about the passenger ships and freighters of North America? Not only does Creative Characters Publishing Group's Ships of the Great Lakes Cookbook satisfy this curiosity, but it also provides recipes for many notable American dishes, which make the passengers and crew members feel like they are at home no matter where they are.

The Ships of the Great Lakes Cookbook is organized into chapters covering currently active tall ships, freighters, coast guard ships, passenger vessels, retired vessels, and a salute to those who have given tirelessly to the men and women who live on the waves of the Great Lakes. The biggest impression I get from this historical parade is the food trends, from contemporary takes on European cuisine, such as marinated focaccia bread sandwiches on the Denis Sullivan (nicknamed "the ship built by a thousand hands and a thousand hearts", p.3), to Americana, like baked beans served on some of the Michigan State car ferries.

What is also interesting to note, as prefaced above, is the difference between what is eaten not only across time but also across class. For example, on the M.T.S. Arcadia, a cruise liner, guests are invited to a Greek Tavern dinner that consists of all sorts of Greek delights: avgolemono (an egg and lemon soup), moussaka, and galaktoboureko (a custard-filled pastry), yet on the M.V. Canadian Miner, a freighter, the crew is served big pot meals: sausage and rice casserole, turkey noodle soup, and beef curry. This distinction clearly underlines the purposes of the people aboard the ships, and it is an interesting commentary on how both sides live - Upstairs Downstairs on the Great Lakes.

Each featured ship is given space to reveal its history, as indicated not only with succinct text but also with black and white photographs. Menus are also provided to give the reader contextual information, adding depth to the recipes selected to represent the stewards' offerings on each ship.

Most important, though, is the recipes. They cover the spectrum of all things American or foreign with crossover American appeal (i.e. that which can be produced with minimum items, minimum fuss, and maximum output to feed an army). I decided on an afternoon tea snack, the freighter ship M.V. Algosoo's coconut pound cake and dinner, lamb pot pie, which was served on the S.S. Milwaukee Clipper (now retired), and baked apple dumplings, served on the S.S. Badger, a passenger vessel. These were not only chosen because they suited my needs but also because some recipes are for very large quantities (and not all worth the effort of scaling down, so they make good suggestions for parties to which a crowd is invited) or because a yield is not given, which is intimidating to the inexperienced cook.

The recipe that I am spotlighting is the lamb pot pie - well, how could I not? I live in New Zealand, after all! The pastry is enough for two crusts, as articulated in the recipe, but one can use a prepared puff pastry from the market if one cannot be bothered making the shortening pastry. The only omission I made was the mushrooms, but I have included them in the rundown of ingredients should you wish to use them. I also have to reveal that the lamb pot pie filling was supposed to require 1/4 cup flour and an additional 1/2 cup vegetable broth or water, but as to when to add them was not indicated in the method, so I didn't add them at all, and this did not negatively impact the result (but it did make for some consternation).

Lamb Pot Pie
(as served on the S.S. Milwaukee Clipper from the Ships of the Great Lakes Cookbook)

For the pastry:
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup shortening
6 to 7 tablespoons cold water

For the lamb filling:
2 pounds/approx. 1 kg stewing lamb, cut into bite-sized pieces
2 small onions, sliced
2 large potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
1/2 pound/a bit more than 1/5 kg fresh mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 1/2 cups vegetable broth
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cilantro/coriander
1 tablespoon mustard (or 1/2 tablespoon dry mustard)

For the egg wash:
1 egg
4 tablespoons milk (or other liquid, such as water)

To prepare the pastry:
1) Stir flour and salt in a large bowl.
2) Cut in the shortening.
3) Sprinkle 1 tablespoon of cold water in pastry mixture and gently toss with a fork. Repeat this step with remaining water until entire pastry mixture is moistened.
4) Divide dough into 2 balls. Roll out 1 ball and line the bottom of a greased and floured pie plate, reserving the remaining ball for the top.

To prepare the filling:
1) Combine vegetable oil and butter in a large pot, and heat together until the butter is melted.
2) Add lamb and brown it on all sides (I did this in two batches so as not to overcrowd the pot and braise the lamb).
3) Add the remaining ingredients, and stir to combine them.
4) Simmer covered for 20 minutes.
5) Uncover and cook for a further 15 minutes, stirring occassionally.

To compile the pie:
1) Preheat oven to 375 F/190 C.
2) Pour filling over bottom crust in the pie plate.
3) Roll out the reserved ball of dough to place over the filling, and crimp the edges to seal in the ingredients and moisture.
4) Cut three small slits in the top to vent.
5) Combine egg wash ingredients together and lightly brush over the top crust.
6) Bake for 20-30 minutes until done (the nose knows!).

I do apologise for the photo, but I had to use a disposable camera (shock horror) as my angelheart Eric has custody of our digital. Aesthetics aside, I have to say that this both smelled and tasted like a pie, which is to say that I would certainly use the recipe again, but I would augment some of the flavors. Perhaps I would add a little brandy or red wine to the simmering filling instead of so much vegetable broth, and I would also include a bouquet garni, so as to enhance the Spring flavors that complement lamb so well.

To me, though, this recipe is typical of most in the book, reinforced by the results of making the coconut pound cake (a standard cake mix to which is added a teaspoon of coconut extract and one cup of dessicated coconut) and baked apple dumplings (peeled and cored apples dusted with a combination of nutmeg and cinnamon, individually wrapped in sweet shortcrust pastry and baked in a sauce of butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar), in that they are mostly traditional, practical, and no-frills in their execution enough to follow for everyday cooking. There is a great degree of honesty in the recipes, some of which are no more than a can of this, a can of that, 1 pound of this, and 2 pounds of that. Not only do such recipes leave you a bit gob-smacked by the sheer quanitity of each ingredient and the indulgence in preserved goods, they educate the reader on the lifestyle of the crew, which is really on board to work and to whom the meals are mostly for sustenance. This not to say the book has no culinary merit, for there are gems within (the Layered Mocha Cream Torte as served on the Denis Sullivan has been bookmarked!) for at home or tailgating use.

The Ships of the Great Lakes Cookbook functions best as a good compendium of American recipes. Of course these recipes have to be standard - for the most part, the objective is to not only make people feel pampered (if they are passengers) but also to make people feel comforted when away from home. This invites you, the home cook and lover of American food, to add your own personal stamp, as I recommend you do.

Labels: Book Review, Cookbook Spotlight, Lamb, Pie

Because this was going to be my last Thanksgiving in the U.S. for a while, I wanted to celebrate it twice. Well, I'm not sure that Thanksgiving is really a holiday for celebrating per se, but in the five years I've lived here, no one has given the traditional "let's be thankful for this, that and the other" speech, and no one appears to reflect on what one must be thankful for (the gas-guzzling? the waste in the landfills that we've created?). So, I'll just say here that I'm thankful for my experiences in the U.S. and the loved ones with whom I've been happy to share this period of time.

Mostly I'm just thankful for good food.


The first Thanksgiving meal was spent at our friend Suzanne's. It was especially glorious because our good friend, Ailene, celebrated with us (her husband has made the move out of state, and she is going to join him very soon), and Suzanne made turkey for the first time. She brined the 8 pound turkey for five hours before roasting it for a couple more hours. The baste consisted of butter, thyme, and lemon zest. Though there was no stuffing, the turkey's cavity was filled up with lemons and oranges, and they perfumed the succulent meat splendidly.



For my part, I made Roasted Root Vegetables with Honey, Balsamic Vinegar, and Fresh Goat Cheese and Pumpkin Pie with Candied Pepitas and Dried Fig and Coffee Ice Cream.

For the vegetables, I wanted a twist on tradition. I have had a million variations of roasted vegetables - after all, I'm from New Zealand, a land where The Sunday Roast is an institution that harks back to New Zealand's colonial days. I wanted to make something with big flavours and lots of style. To accomplish both of these, I turned to my angelheart Eric's favorite celeb chef (and one of mine, too), Tyler Florence. His new cookery book, Tyler's Ultimate, builds on the theme of his Food Network show in which he creates contemporary twists on traditional fare (not always traditional in the American sense, either, for some of my favourite shows include his renditions of paella, lasagne, and English roast chicken).

Roasted Root Vegetables with Honey, Balsamic Vinegar, and Fresh Goat Cheese (from Tyler Florence's Tyler's Ultimate)

3 medium carrots, peeled and cut into two-inch long pieces (5.5 cm)
2 medium beets, peeled and cut into sixths
2 medium turnips, peeled and cut into sixths
2 fennel heads, outer leaves stripped and cut into quarters
3 shallots, unpeeled, cut in half lengthwise
1/4 cup olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
4 oz chilled fresh goat cheese

1) Preheat oven to 350 deg. f. (195 deg. c.).
2) Toss vegetables with olive oil, salt and pepper on a baking sheet. Spread vegetables out in a single layer once done.
3) Roast vegetables for 25 minutes.
4) Whisk together honey and vinegar, then pour onto roast vegetables and toss them together.
5) Roast vegetables for 20 minutes, or until they are fork-tender and caramelized.
6) Top vegetables with pieces of goat cheese.

I had never had pumpkin pie before this Thanksgiving, and because I knew no one was going to make it, I wanted to take a risk and do it myself. Besides, if I failed, I was not concerned with not being invited to a Thanksgiving meal next year since I'd be back in New Zealand. Admittedly, I was very nervous. Who best to turn to other than the undisputed queen of the American lifestyle, Martha Stewart? The Martha Stewart Living, November 2006 magazine is really quite fabulous, and I was beaming when I came across her recipe. I don't know if most recipes call for the spices she does, but I was thrilled beforehand knowing the mellow depth they'd add, and I looked forward to making my own graham crust. As for the candied pepitas, I didn't even know what pepitas were, so I figured it was a good opportunity to find out. They are hulled pumpkin seeds - so now we all know.

Pumpkin Pie with Candied Pepitas
(From Martha Stewart Living, November 2006)

For the graham crust:
2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1/3 cup whole-wheat flour
1/4 cup ground pepitas
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 cup (113g) unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup light brown sugar, packed

1) Combine flours, pepitas, salt, and cinnamon (either with a whisk or in a food processor).
2) Add butter and sugar and proccess I did this in a bowl with my own hands, but you can do so with a food processor).
3) When dough comes together, put in a 9 or 10 inch single-crust metal pie plate (I actually put mine in my 10" fluted tart pan), and then freeze for 15 minutes.

For the filling:

1 1/2 cups canned solid-pack pumpkin (or 1 small sugar pumpkin roasted cut-side down at 425 deg. f./220 deg. c. for 50-60 minutes)
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
3/4 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 tablespoon corn starch
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
pinch of cayenne pepper
pinch of ground clove
1 1/2 cups evaporated milk

1) Preheat oven to 350 deg. f. (180 deg. c.).
2) Bake crust (after it has been in the freeze for 15 minutes) until dry and golden brown - about 20 minutes - and then let cool completely.
3) Reduce oven temperature to 325 deg. f. (170 deg. c.).
4) Whisk pumpkin and eggs in a bowl.
5) In a separate bowl, combine brown sugar, cornstarch, salt, and spices.
6) Whisk dry ingredients into the pumpkin mixture.
7) Whisk in evaporated milk.
8) Tap firmly on counter to release air bubbles and let stand for 20 minutes.
9) Pour filling into graham crust; tap to release air bubbles.
10) Bake until set, approximately 50 minutes.

For the candied pepitas:

6 oz (2 cups) pepitas
5 tablespoons sugar (the recipe actually calls for 6 tablespoons)
1 large egg white, beaten
pinch of coarse salt, plus more for seasoning
pinch of ground allspice
pinch of cayenne pepper

1) Preheat oven to 350 deg. f. (180 deg. c.).
2) Stir ingredients together in a bowl.
3) Spread mixture in a single layer on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.
4) Bake until pepitas are golden and slightly puffed, approximately 10 minutes.
5) Season with salt.
6) Stir gently, leaving some clumps.
7) Let cool completely in a bowl before storing in an air-tight container for up to three days. Sprinkle a small handful over pumpkin pie and save the rest for snacking :-)

Of course, most people have cream on the side or on top of their pumpkin pie. I, of course, wanted something a little different. Tamasin Day-Lewis is very inspiring, and, like Nigella Lawson, has interesting dessert ideas. I was eager to make something from her latest book, Tamasin's Kitchen Classics,which is divided into the following sections: A Classic Start, the Main Course, Classic Cakes (interesting twists, such as Rhubarb and Ginger Crumble Cake and Upside-Down Pear and Spice Cake), A Classic Finish (desserts, such as Redcurrant Curd Ice Cream and Black Forest Trifle) and Basics (stocks and pastries). It is a gorgeous and hunger-inducing book - my latest "must have". Tamasin's Dried Fig and Hazelnut Ice Cream sounded like too much of a dream to pass up, especially since I had good organic dried figs on hand. I omitted the praline and substituted the vanilla base for one of coffee).

Dried Fig and Coffee Ice Cream
(Adapted from Tamasin Day-Lewis' Tamasin's Kitchen Classics)

9 large, whole dried organic figs
3 tablespoons squeezed orange juice
2 tablespoons cognac
1 cup whole milk, well chilled
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3 tablespoons instant espresso or coffee
2 cups heavy (double) cream
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1) Chop the figs into small dice and soak them in the orange juice and cognac for 4-6 hours.
2) In a medium bowl, whisk to combine milk, sugar and espresso powder until sugar and powder are dissolved.
3) Stir in the cream and vanilla extract.
4) Put into ice cream maker with the liquid that the figs have not absorbed.
5) Once churned, fold figs pieces into the ice cream and freeze.

For the second Thanksgiving dinner, we ate at my angelheart's sister's with his mother, brother-in-law, and two-and-a-half-year-old nephew. On the menu were cornish game hens stuffed with bulgur wheat, raisins, and pine nuts (which you can read about here), sauteed spinach with garlic, and prosciutto-wrapped scallops and shrimp. Eric's sister's dessert didn't quite turn out, but she made Lemon Madelines during the day. It is a recipe from Martha Stewart's Baking Handbook, and I'm tempted to make them in the future because they were simultaneously fluffy and substantial, and the combination of almond and lemon in heavenly.



As for leftovers, today I made soup out of the Roasted Root Vegetables by blending the vegetables with some hot chicken stock and seasoning, topped with croutons that were rubbed with garlic.

Happy Post-Thanksgiving everyone!

Labels: Holidays, Ice cream, Martha Stewart, Pie, Pumpkin Pie, Tamasin Day-Lewis, Thanksgiving, Tyler Florence