Buttery Tomato Tart

This intensely flavoured tomato filling contains a scandalous amount of butter, but it’s worth every calorie. You can use any creamy soft white cheese, but avoid pungent goat’s milk cheeses. Steer clear of rocket too, because its aggressive pepperiness will overwhelm the star ingredient.

Buttery Tomato Tart: an easy recipe, and no soggy bottom. Photograph
by Michael Le Grange, courtesy of Random House Struik.  

This easy recipe comes from my book Scrumptious: Food for Family & Friends, and it's one I make often when cherry tomatoes are in high season, as they are now in South Africa.

I have a few vines growing in my garden, but I have to say they are not a patch on the glorious sweet tomatoes spilling out of supermarket shelves.  I've tried growing many different varieties of miniature tomatoes over the years, under the most organic of circumstances, but every summer I'm disappointed by my crop because their skins are so leathery. Sure, they have a wonderful and mysterious grassy taste that is quite absent in supermarket tomatoes, but they're really not suitable for a dish like this because I'd have to peel every one of them. And who has time for peeling cherry tomatoes?

For this recipe, in order to prevent soggy-bottom syndrome, I pre-bake the pastry cases and pile in the filling  just before I serve them.  You can prepare both the filling and the pastry cases in advance - see my Cook's Notes at the end of this page.

Please don't skimp on the butter or cream in this recipe. They are the best friends of tomatoes.

Buttery Tomato Tart 

8 Tbsp (120 ml/120 g) butter
2 tsp (10 ml) olive oil
1 kg ripe, sweet cherry tomatoes
2 thumb-length sprigs fresh rosemary
1 sprig fresh thyme
1 large clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped or grated
a pinch of chilli flakes (optional)
salt and milled black pepper
6 Tbsp (90 ml) fresh cream
2 rolls ready-rolled puff pastry, thawed
a beaten egg, for brushing

For the topping: 

150 g mild, creamy white cheese, such as feta, ricotta or proper mozzarella
a handful of fresh baby herb leaves: oregano, marjoram or basil

Heat the butter and oil in a large pan and add the whole tomatoes and herb sprigs. Cook, tossing often, over a high heat, for 5-7 minutes, or until the tomatoes have softened. Using a potato masher, lightly crush the tomatoes to release their juices.

Add the garlic and chilli flakes and season with salt and pepper. Turn up the heat and cook at a vigorous bubble for 5 minutes, or until the sauce has thickened and reduced slightly. Stir in the cream and bubble for another few minutes. Discard the herb sprigs and keep warm.

Set the oven to 180 °C and heat two baking sheets. Unroll each puff pastry cylinder and roll out lightly to increase its size by about 2 cm on all sides.  Using a sharp knife, trim a 1-cm-wide strip off each edge. Brush the pastry with beaten egg and prick all over with a fork. Place the strips of pastry around the edges of the rectangle to form a raised border. Mark a chevron pattern on the border, using a knife. Brush the borders with egg.

Cut out two rectangles of foil exactly the same size as the base (measure by placing the foil over the pastry and running your thumbnail around the inside edge of the border). Place the foil on top of the pastry. Lift the pastry sheets, on their paper, and place them on the hot baking sheets (you may need another pair of hands for this). Bake for 10 minutes, then remove the foil and bake for a further 10–15 minutes, or until the pastry is golden and crisp. Don’t worry if the middle of the pastry puffs up; it will soon subside.

Peel off the foil and place the pastry bases on wire racks so the bottoms remain crisp. Just before you serve the tarts, spread the warm tomato filling over the bases. Scatter with nuggets of cheese and a sprinkling of baby herb leaves. Slice into squares and serve immediately.

Serves 8 as a snack.

Cook’s Notes

• The pastry bases can be prepared, ready for cooking, up to 8 hours in advance and kept covered in the fridge. 
• Once baked and cooled, the pastry bases will remain crisp for at least two hours at room temperature, depending on the humidity in your kitchen.
• Bring the pastry up to room temperature before it goes into the oven. 
• You can prepare the tomato sauce up to 24 hours in advance and warm it gently before spreading it over the pastry.

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Spicy Parsnip, Butternut & Chickpea Salad with Soy-Roasted Seeds

My husband, who spent his early years in England, is besotted with parsnips, and whenever he sees a pack he buys them and hands them to me with a hopeful look on his face. I usually toss them into the oven along with the roast potatoes, or make a fluffy parsnip mash. They're excellent in warm salads too, particularly if they're roasted first at a fierce heat, which brings out their nutty sweetness. In this winter salad, I've combined them with chickpeas, roast butternut, feta, spices, mint, chives, coriander and - for essential texture and crunch - soy-toasted pumpkin and sunflower seeds.

Spicy Parsnip, Butternut & Chickpea Salad. Do you like my plate? I
bought it in a junk shop this week; in its centre there is a handsome peacock.

This is good at room temperature, and keeps well in the fridge, but it's very good when the root vegetables are still hot. I've written the recipe with the assumption you're going to serve it right away, which involves getting all the cold ingredients ready to go while the veggies are roasting. (Read more about my recent obsession with hot-and-cold salads here.)

The first time I made (and photographed) this dish, I used some finely sliced red onion, but it was too aggressive, so when I made it next I added plenty of chopped chives, which have just the right gentle oniony bite.

It isn't necessary to rinse tinned chickpeas if they're in a clear, thin liquid, but I had to wash the organic ones I bought from Woolworths, which were suspended in a peculiar and unappetising gloopy gel.

It's also not compulsory to splash Kikkoman soy sauce over the toasted seeds, but I love the way this adds a salty burnish to each seed.

A final dusting of excellent paprika adds a lively tingle to this dish. I love the mildly hot, smoked variety of La Dalia Pimentón de la Vera, which you can buy in good delicatessens, or order online from Yuppiechef.

---

Spicy Parsnip, Butternut & Chickpea Salad with Soy-Roasted Seeds

10 medium parsnips, trimmed and peeled
1 packet (about 3 cups or 400 g) ready-peeled butternut chunks
3 Tbsp (45 ml) olive oil
salt and milled black pepper
1 large lemon, halved
1 orange, halved
2 x 400 g tins chickpeas, drained
150 g feta cheese, roughly crumbled, plus extra for topping
2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed, or more, to taste
½ cup (125 ml) chopped fresh coriander [cilantro]
½ cup (125 ml) finely chopped chives
¼ cup (60 ml) finely chopped mint
1 tsp (5 ml) cumin
1 tsp (5 ml) coriander
1 tsp (5 ml) medium-strength curry powder
60 ml sunflower seeds
80 ml pumpkin seeds
1½ tsp (7.5 ml) Kikkoman soy sauce
1 tsp (5 ml) good smoked paprika
extra lemon juice & extra-virgin olive oil, for dressing

Heat the oven to 200 ºC. Cut the parsnips into large chunks (I slice the fat end quite thickly, half-mooning the biggest slices, then cut the thinner end into 2-cm batons). Line a baking tray with kitchen paper and add the parsnip and butternut pieces. Sprinkle with 3 Tbsp of olive oil, then squeeze over the juices of one half each of your lemon and orange. Put the squeezed-out halves into the tray, and season the veggies with salt and pepper.

Put the squeezed-out lemon & orange
halves in the roasting dish so you can
add their pulp to the salad.

Roast for 30-40 minutes at 200 ºC, fan on, or until the veggies are very soft, and just beginning to char at their edges.

In the meantime, rinse the chickpeas under cold running water (see my comment, above), drain well and place in a mixing bowl. Add the feta, garlic, coriander, chives and mint. Squeeze the juice from the remaining half-lemon and half-orange into the salad and mix well.

Set to one side.  Heat a dry frying pan over a medium-low heat and gently toast the pumpkin and sesame seeds for a few minutes, or until they are crisp and beginning to make soft popping noises. Watch them like a hawk, as they can burn fast.

Sprinkle the soy sauce over the seeds and mix well. As soon as all the soy sauce has evaporated - this will take not much longer than 30 seconds - whip the pan off the heat and set to one side.

Measure the spices out into a small bowl. Remove the cooked vegetables from the oven and immediately sprinkle the spices all over them, tossing well to coat (the residual heat from the veggies will help to release the fragrances).

Tip the hot butternut and parsnip pieces into the salad. Using a pair of tongs, squeeze the hot pulp from the lemon and orange into the bowl. Toss everything together very gently and thoroughly, then season to taste with salt and pepper.

You may need to add more lemon juice to the salad to achieve a pleasant acidity, especially if you leave it to stand for several hours. Chickpeas suck up flavours eagerly, and the lemon juice fades quickly into the background.

Tip the salad onto a platter, sprinkle generously with olive oil and top with the toasted seeds, some extra crumbled feta, and a generous dusting of smoked paprika.

Serves 4 as a main meal, 6 as a side dish

Like this recipe? Try my Parsnip, Potato and Cumin Cakes with Crème Fraîche and Chives

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Moroccan-Spiced Carrot and Chickpea Salad with Mint & Almonds

I think carrots are both underrated and neglected.  How many classic dishes of world cuisine feature carrots as the starring ingredient? You can count them on one hand: Carrots Vichy, Moroccan carrot salads, spicy Indian carrot pickles, carrot cake and... um... that's four fingers... can someone help me out here?

A flavour-packed vegetarian salad featuring carrots
 in a starring role. 

Truth is, the humble carrot is not a particularly versatile veggie.

Sure, when small and snappy and sweet, it's lovely raw, or lightly cooked in plenty of salty butter. But the minute a carrot reaches the length of a pencil, it tends to be booted like an elderly aunt into stocks, stews and soups, or julienned into coleslaws, or grated and mixed with fresh orange juice and raisins to create the vilest salad known to mankind.

Well, I think we all ought to eat more carrots. They're inexpensive, they're packed with healthy nutrients and fibre, and they have a lovely subtle flavour.

The trick to getting the best out of a carrot is figuring out how to achieve a Goldilocks texture: not too crisp,  not too mushy, but somewhere in between.

Part of the attraction of a good young carrot is its texture (most kids, for example, love slim sticks of raw carrot) but the truth is that you can only eat so many uncooked carrots without feeling as though you're munching  your way through a plateful of twigs.

In the same way, a  bowl of cooked-to-mush carrots can quickly bring on a case of the dry-heaves in children, possibly putting them off this nourishing vegetable for life.

This salad keeps very well in the fridge.

How do you avoid this 'yuck' factor? Here is my solution: cook them to a perfect state of tender-crispness, lightly season them with some North African-inspired spices, and combine them with toasted almonds, chickpeas, parsley, mint, garlic and olive oil.

This salad's dressing may seem pungently flavoured, but when everything has had a chance to mingle over an hour or two, its flavours are quite delicate, and you can still taste earthy carrots below the spices.

This dish improves with keeping, and the carrots will retain their tender-crisp bite for several days in the fridge. It's good on its own, and excellent with hot spicy roast chicken, or shredded chicken from the left-overs of a roast.

Please see my Cook's Notes at the end of the recipe for some variations on this salad.









Moroccan-Spiced Carrot and Chickpea Salad with Mint & Almonds 

For the salad:

1.2 kg carrots (about 14 medium-sized carrots)
salt
1 tin (410 g) chickpeas, well drained
4 Tbsp (60 ml) sultanas
150 g (about two 'wheels') feta cheese
½ cup (125 ml) finely chopped fresh parsley
6 Tbsp (90 ml) finely chopped fresh mint
2 tsp (10 ml) poppy seeds [optional]
6 Tbsp (90 ml) flaked almonds, lightly toasted in a dry frying pan (see Cook's Notes)
extra small fresh mint leaves, for garnish
salt and milled black pepper

For the dressing:

2 tsp (10 ml) finely grated fresh ginger
2 fat cloves garlic, peeled and finely grated
1½ tsp (7.5 ml) cumin
1 tsp (5 ml) good fresh paprika (see Cook's Notes)
½ tsp (2.5 ml) powdered ginger
½ tsp (2.5 ml) cinnamon
the juice of a large juicy orange
the juice of two big lemons
½ cup (125 ml) olive oil
salt and milled black pepper

First make the dressing. Whisk together all the dressing ingredients in a small bowl and set to one side.

Top and tail the carrots and lightly peel them using a sharp potato peeler. Slice the carrots into discs about 3 mm thick. The quickest way to do this is to use a food processor fitted with a metal slicing disc, or a stout-bladed mandolin. If you have neither of these, sit down at a table, turn up the music and patiently slice the carrots by hand.

Bring a pot of salted water to a rapid rolling boil.  Drop in the carrot slices, cover the pot and immediately set a timer to 5 minutes.  When the timer goes, fish out a carrot disc and bite into it. It should be just tender, but with some resistance and snap.  If it feels feels hard and crisp between your teeth, give the slices another minute or two.  Drain the carrots in a colander and then put them in a mixing bowl. Immediately pour the prepared dressing over the hot carrots - their residual heat will take the bite out of the raw garlic and ginger.  Mix in the sultanas and chickpeas, cover with clingfilm and set aside at room temperature for an hour or two, or in the fridge if you are planning to serve this the next day.

Just before you serve the salad, stir in the chopped parsley, mint and (optional) poppy seeds. Pile the salad onto a large pretty platter and crumble the feta cheese on top.  Drizzle over a little more olive oil and scatter the flaked toasted almonds on top. Garnish the salad with some small fresh mint leaves, and season to taste with salt and milled black pepper.

Serves 6 as a main course salad; 8-10 as a side salad. 

Cook's Notes

• Chopped fresh coriander is a lovely accompaniment to carrots, but it does have a domineering flavour which stomps all over the delicate spicing of this dish.
• In place of the flaked toasted almonds, you can use toasted pumpkin or sunflower seeds. 
• If you have a jar of preserved lemons to hand, add some of them, finely chopped, to the salad for a wonderful salty zing. 

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Cream of Watercress Soup with Wobbly Eggs

Liquid-centred 'poached' eggs add a touch of drama to this clean-flavoured watercress soup. This isn't a complicated recipe, but it does require some attention to detail.  The trick is to get the eggs just right, because most of the fun in eating it comes from puncturing the egg with your spoon and swirling the golden yolk around the bowl.

Cream of Watercress Soup with Wobbly Eggs

I am a great fan of watercress, and think it's a most under-appreciated ingredient.

Rocket is partially to blame for this, because this ubiquitous leaf, with its delicious, peppery twanginess, has a habit of hogging all the limelight, especially in salads.

Watercress -  now abundant on local supermarket shelves - is often considered a second choice to rocket, and I can't understand why. Watercress has a fresh bite and a lovely clean metallic taste, and is as good raw as it is lightly cooked.

This is a good light soup to serve, sequinned with olive oil and generously doused in cream, to friends on a cool spring evening (and there seem too many of those in Cape Town these days). However, since neither the most experienced cook nor the most foolhardy one should consider dangling over a hot stove poaching eggs the old-fashioned way when there are guests to greet and wine to quaff, I recommend that you use a clever restaurant trick:  partially cook the eggs in clingfilm ‘purses’ well ahead of time and then quickly reheat them minutes before serving.

Cream of Watercress Soup with Wobbly Eggs

2 packets of watercress, about 80 g each
1¾ litres (7 cups) chicken or vegetable stock
3 medium potatoes, peeled and finely sliced
6 Tbsp (90 g / 90 ml) butter
6 medium leeks, white and pale green parts only, sliced
5 Tbsp (75 ml) cake flour
the juice of half a lemon
200 ml cream
salt and milled black pepper
8 large, very fresh free-range eggs
a little olive oil
a few extra watercress or parsley leaves

Rinse the watercress, pick off the leaves and set them and the stalks to one side.

Heat the chicken stock in a large pot, add the watercress stalks and potato slices and cook at a brisk simmer for 15-20 minutes, or until the potato is very tender.

Melt the butter in a separate large pot, add the leeks, cover the vegetables with a circle of baking paper (or the wrapper from a block of butter) and cook over a low heat for 7-9 minutes, or until very soft. Remove the paper, stir in the flour and cook for another minute. Turn up the heat slightly, add the reserved watercress leaves and cook, stirring, for 3-4 minutes, or until the leaves have wilted but are still a fresh green colour. Now add the hot stock and potatoes, stir well, bring to a gentle boil and simmer for 3 minutes. Squeeze in the lemon juice, then blend to a smooth purée (but not too fine; the soup should be flecked with green). Reheat the soup, mix in the cream and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Make the eggs in advance. Line a teacup with a large square of clingfilm and generously brush the inner surface with sunflower oil. Break an egg into the cup, bring up the edges of the plastic, twist them together to make a ‘purse’ and then tie into a knot, as if you are knotting a balloon. Make sure there is not too much air between the egg and the knot. Repeat with the remaining 7 eggs. Fill a big bowl with iced water and 10 ice cubes.

Bring a pan of water to a very gentle rolling boil, add 4 of the egg purses and poach for exactly 3  minutes. Plunge the purses into the iced water and chill for 5 minutes. Cut through the knots with scissors, gently peel away the plastic and place the eggs on a plate. Repeat with the remaining eggs. Cover the plate with clingfilm.

When you’re ready to serve the soup, slip the eggs back into a pan of gently boiling water and reheat for exactly 1 minute (set your oven timer to remind you!). Fish the eggs from the water with a slotted spoon and drain quickly on kitchen paper. Ladle the hot soup into bowls and top each one with a puddle of cream, a poached egg, dots of of olive oil and a few leaves of watercress or flat-leaf parsley.

Serves 8.

Cook’s Notes

• This soup can be made up to 4 hours in advance, but no longer, or it may lose its colour.

• Poach the eggs up to 4 hours ahead, and keep them in the fridge. It’s a good idea to poach a few extra eggs, just in case the yolks break or the whites refuse to come away from the plastic. Practise poaching an egg the day before if you’re not feeling confident.

• Try this soup with other tender fresh leaves, such as sorrel, rocket or baby spinach.

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Easy Caramelised Onion and Feta Tart - using pickled onions

Do you have the patience to stand around peeling pearl onions? I certainly don't, so I've come up with an easy, knock-out tart that uses small pickled onions, which are (oh joy!) already peeled. All they need is a thorough rinsing and a 10-minute sizzle in a pan of hot butter, garlic and thyme, and they turn a gorgeous golden brown, with a perfect balance of sweetness and gentle acidic bite.

The first time I made this, I used bog-standard pickled onions, and they were just too aggressively vinegary. The second, I used a better quality German pickled onion (Kühne brand) and they were perfect.

This is a dead-easy recipe that takes about 20 minutes to prepare and the same amount of time to bake. Do use a good quality puff pastry containing butter, and make sure not to overwork the pastry.  You could add any cheese of your choice to this tart - it would be good with a creamy Gorgonzola - but I like feta the best, because it has such a mild flavour and agreeable texture.

This tart is at its best warm, but can be made up to five hours in advance.

Easy Caramelised Onion and Feta Tart

one 500 g jar (300 g drained weight) small pickled onions
3 T (45 ml/45 g) salted butter
a few large sprigs of fresh thyme
1 large clove of garlic, peeled and finely grated
1 roll of good quality puff pastry, thawed
a beaten egg, for brushing
1 wheel (about 150 g) feta cheese
milled black pepper
a little olive oil for drizzling

Heat the oven to 180ºC and place a non-stick baking sheet in it to heat.  Pour the pickled onions into a colander and rinse them well under running water. Drain well, and discard any pickling spices. Heat the butter in a saucepan and add the onions, thyme sprigs and garlic. Cook, over a medium flame, tossing often, for 10 minutes, or until the onions are golden brown and nicely caramelised. Don't allow the garlic or onions to scorch. Remove and set aside to cool slightly.

Unroll the puff pastry onto a board covered with a piece of baking paper. Using a rolling pin, lightly roll it out so it's two or so centimetres larger on all sides. Cut the pastry into an exact square (measure and mark it using a ruler, or lift one corner and fold it diagonally upwards to meet the top edge, as you would do if you were doing origami).  Prick the pastry all over with a fork. Cut the leftover piece of pastry into four strips a centimetre or so wide (you may need to roll the piece out a little further). Brush the pastry base with beaten egg, then place the strips around the edges to make a border. Mark the border with a decorative chevron pattern.

Arrange the cooled onions in even rows on top of the pastry. Break the feta into pieces and tuck it between the  onions. Scatter with a little more fresh thyme and season with milled black pepper.  Paint another layer of beaten egg onto the edges of the tart.

Carefully lift the edges of the baking paper (you may need another pair of hands for this) and place it on the preheated baking sheet. Bake at 180ºC for 20 minutes, or until the pastry is crisp and golden brown. Drizzle with a little olive oil, cut into slices and serve warm.

Serves 6 as a starter or side dish. Print Friendly

Baked Aubergines with Tomato, Scorched Red Pepper, Feta and Mint

A happy marriage between a spicy Turkish Imam Bayildi and a Provençal ratatouille, this deep-flavoured vegetable dish sings with intense, sunny flavours, and is just as good cold as it is pleasantly warm.

Baked Aubergines with Tomato,
 Scorched Red Pepper, Feta and Mint

I meant to add parsley when I made this the first time but, having none to hand, used instead a handful of the fresh mint that flourishes beneath my garden tap. I was instantly smitten by the combination of aubergine [eggplant], feta cheese, tomato and perky little mint leaves. Mint is a such an undervalued herb, I think, especially in savoury dishes.

Serve with plenty of good, fruity olive oil, and tearings of crusty bread for soaking up the tomatoey juices. You can use quartered big tomatoes in this dish - if they are very red, ripe and tasty - but I love the way that intensely flavoured cherry tomatoes stay almost whole in the sauce, and surprise your tongue with little bursts of acidy sweetness.

This dish improves upon standing.  Cover it with clingfilm, and leave it at room temperature overnight. If you're serving it right away, allow it to cool for ten to fifteen minutes so that it's pleasantly warm.

If you'd like to turn this into a sustaining meal, add a tin of drained chickpeas to the mixture before you put it in the oven for the second time.  And if you'd like a bit of crunch, sprinkle with a few handfuls of toasted pine nuts.

It's not strictly necessary to degorge the brinjals before you bake them (today's modern varieties are not as bitter as the brinjals yesteryear) but I have found that this process helps to prevent the slices from absorbing too much oil. Choose firm, tight-skinned brinjals with a dark glossy skin, and not too big.

Baked Aubergines with Tomato, Scorched Red Pepper, Feta and Fresh Mint

3 large aubergines [eggplants]
2 tsp (10 ml) fine salt
2 large ripe red peppers [capsicums], sliced
4 Tbsp (60 ml) olive oil
2 medium onions, peeled and finely chopped
a large pinch of salt
750 g small, ripe cherry tomatoes (about 5 cups)
4 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped or grated
2 tsp (10 ml) ground cumin
1 tsp (5 ml) red chilli flakes
2 bay leaves
1 tsp (5 ml) sugar
1 cup (250 ml) water or stock
2 Tbsp (30 ml) tomato paste
salt and freshly milled black pepper

To serve:
1 cup (250 ml) of crumbled feta cheese
a handful of chopped fresh mint
an extra dusting of cumin
toasted pine nuts [optional]
olive oil
crusty bread

Heat the oven to 190ºC. Top and tail the aubergines. Cut them in half, lengthways, and then cut each half, lengthways again, into four 'wedges'. Now cut each wedge in half crossways so that you have finger-sized pieces that are roughly equal in size. Place the pieces in a large colander, in layers, and sprinkle with salt. Weigh down with a plate and allow to degorge for 20 minutes.

Start on the tomato sauce in the meantime (see below).

Rinse the aubergine slices under running water to remove excess salt, and pat dry on a tea towel. Arrange the pieces in a deep ceramic dish or roasting tray, drizzle over the remaining olive oil and, using your hands, toss well to coat. Place in the hot oven and bake for about 45 minutes, or until golden brown and just soft.

Put a large frying pan (a wok is ideal) over a high flame. When the pan is very hot, add the red pepper pieces (but no oil).  Cook, tossing all the time, for three to five minutes, or until the pieces are beginning to scorch in places to form small burned 'freckles'.  Pour 2 T (30 ml) of the olive oil into the wok, turn down the heat to medium and add the chopped onion and a pinch of salt. Cook for a few minutes, or until the onion has slightly softened, then add the whole cherry tomatoes, garlic, cumin, chilli flakes, bay leaves and sugar.  Turn down the heat to low and cook gently for ten minutes, stirring occasionally.

Now, using a potato masher, gently squash the cherry tomatoes so that they burst and release their juices. Add the water (or stock) and tomato paste, and season to taste with salt and black pepper. Simmer the sauce for half an hour, or until it has reduced and thickened slightly.  Stir the sauce now and then to prevent it sticking on the bottom and add a little extra water or stock if it looks as if it's drying out. Turn the heat off under the sauce while you wait for the aubergines to finish cooking.

Remove the aubergines from the oven after 45 minutes and tip the sauce all over them, shaking gently so that each slice is coated. Return to the oven and cook for a further 20 minutes, or until the aubergine slices are very soft, but still holding together.

Allow the dish to cool for 10 minutes. Crumble the feta cheese over the top and strew with freshly chopped mint.  Drizzle with a little extra olive oil and dust with a little cumin (no more than a teaspoon).

Serve warm, or cold, with crusty bread.

Serves 8 as a starter or side dish. 


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Spiced Baked Aubergines with Yoghurt and Pomegranate Seeds

Every family has a handful of famous recipes, and a famous recipe in my family is my brother-in-law Freddy's Aubergines with Garlic Yoghurt. (We call them brinjals, as do most people in South Africa.) Freddy, who is of Cypriot descent, always makes this excellent dish for family gatherings, along with his equally famous Smashed Olives).

Spiced Baked Aubergines with Yoghurt and Pomegranate Seeds

Freddy's recipe involves salting and rinsing thick slices of brinjal, frying them in hot oil until crisp and golden, then layering them in a dish with thick, garlicky yoghurt and few secret ingredients. (I assume he has secret ingredients, because when I make this, it doesn't taste half as good as Freddy's.)

This recipe is a variation on the theme, except that I have added lemon thyme, and lightly spiced the slices with some warming flavours of the middle east. The combination of aubergines, cumin, coriander and yoghurt brings to mind Persan cuisine, so I've also added a scattering of fresh pomegranate seeds, which pop gloriously in your mouth and provide a bright crunchy contrast to the silken centres of the brinjal slices.

Also, I've baked these, not fried them, to prevent the spices from turning bitter in the pan.

This is a good party dish because you can prepare the brinjals in advance and keep them, covered, in the fridge until you're ready to bake them. You will find that the slices suck up the oil like blotting paper (especially if you haven't degorged them; see below), but don't be tempted to add more before you bake the dish: I promise they'll be beautifully golden and crispy-edged when they come out of the oven.

It's not strictly necessary to degorge the brinjals before you bake them (today's modern varieties are not as bitter as the brinjals yesteryear) but I have found that this process helps to prevent the slices from absorbing too much oil. Choose firm, tight-skinned brinjals with a dark glossy skin, and not too big.

A very rich, creamy Greek yoghurt is essential. Use ordinary thyme if you can't find lemon thyme.

The sumac sprinkled on the slices at the end of cooking gives them a lovely tang. Sumac is available at good delis and spice shops, but if you can't find it, leave it out. Smoked paprika is now widely available, but you can use ordinary paprika. As always, use very, very fresh cumin and coriander (and by that I mean that you bought them less than a week ago!).

Spiced Baked Aubergines with Yoghurt and Pomegranate Seeds

4 medium aubergines
1 tsp (5 ml) salt
⅓ cup (80 ml) olive oil
1.5 tsp (7.5 ml) cumin
1 tsp (5 ml) coriander
½ tsp (2.5 ml) smoked paprika
½ tsp (2.5 ml) chilli powder (or more, if you'd like some real heat)
milled black pepper
8 sprigs of lemon thyme
1 tsp (5 ml) sumac

To serve:
thick natural Greek yoghurt
fresh pomegranate seeds
extra olive oil
lemon wedges

Heat the oven to 180 ºC. Remove the tops and tails of the aubergines and cut them into 1-cm thick discs. Sprinkle the slices with the salt, place them in a colander, put a small plate on top and allow to degorge for half an hour. Pat them dry with a piece of kitchen paper (but don't rinse them).

In a small bowl, mix together the olive oil, cumin, coriander, smoked paprika, chilli powder and pepper. Take a spoonful of the oil and smear it across the bottom of a baking sheet. Rub each slice, top and bottom, with a little of the remaining oil. Arrange the slices on the baking sheet, scatter over the thyme sprigs and season quite generously with black pepper.

Brush the aubergine slices with the spiced olive oil. 

Bake the slices at 180 ºC for 25 minutes. Now turn the heat down to 160 ºC and bake for another 20 minutes, or until the slices are golden and rustling on the outside and soft and silky inside. Crumble the now-dry thyme leaves over the slices and discard the stalks. Sprinkle the sumac over the slices and season with salt, if necessary (but remember they may be salty enough after degorging).

Arrange the slices on a plate. Add dollops of yoghurt and drizzle with a little extra olive oil. Scatter with pomegranate seeds and serve piping hot or warm, with lemon wedges.

Serves 6 as a starter or side dish.


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Easy Crustless Courgette, Mint and Feta Tart

Flavoured with mint, dill and lemon, this light, easy crustless tart is inspired by the sunny flavours of Greek cuisine.

Easy Crustless Courgette, Mint and Feta Tart

This recipe is easily doubled, and excellent served warm for brunch, with a leafy salad and a dollop of extra-garlicky tzatziki. If you'd like a bit of extra crunch, sprinkle the top of the tart with poppy seeds just before it goes into the oven.

If you're not mad about dill - my family has a disappointingly iffy attitude to it - leave it out, or add some finely chopped parsley. But don't omit the fresh mint, which adds a lovely sparkle to this dish.

The grated courgettes are quickly fried, until slightly wilted.

Here are three more courgette dishes you may enjoy:

Feta, Blue Cheese, Herb & Toasted-Walnut Pesto with Griddled Courgettes

Crispy Courgette 'Fritters' with a Gingery Lemon Dressing

Slow-Cooked Courgettes & Cherry Tomatoes with Melty Feta Wheels

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Easy Crustless Courgette, Mint and Feta Tart

12 courgettes, topped and tailed
3 Tbsp (45 ml) butter
1 Tbsp (15 ml) olive oil
1 clove garlic, peeled and finely grated
1 Tbsp (15 ml) lemon juice
4 extra-large free-range eggs
½ cup (125 ml) natural yoghurt
½ cup (125 ml) cream
3 Tbsp (45ml) finely chopped fresh mint
2 Tbsp (30 ml) finely chopped fresh dill
1½ cups (375 ml) crumbled feta cheese
the finely grated zest of half a lemon
1 tsp (5 ml) baking powder
salt and milled black pepper, to taste

To top:
12 cherry tomatoes, halved
3 Tbsp (45 ml) finely grated Parmesan or 2 tsp (10 ml) poppy seeds [both optional]

Set the oven to 180 ºC. Grate the courgettes on the coarse side of a cheese grater. Heat the butter and olive oil in a large pan, add the courgettes and cook over a fairly high heat for 3-5 minutes, or until the courgette has wilted slightly and any liquid has evaporated. Stir in the garlic and lemon juice, cook for another minute, then tip into a large bowl and set aside to cool slightly.

Whisk together the eggs, yoghurt and cream. Pour this mixture over the courgettes, along with all the remaining filling ingredients. Stir well to combine. Tip the mixture into a well-greased ceramic or metal tart dish. Press the cherry-tomato halves into the filling, cut side up. Bake at 180 ºC for 30-40 minutes, or until slightly puffed and golden, and just set in the middle.

Serves 6

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Leaf-Wrapped Wine-Soused Camembert, over the coals

Soaked in wine overnight, then flavoured with herbs and garlic, these little cheeses are wrapped in green leaves, tied with string and grilled over hot coals until the cheese has liquefied. This is a great warm-up snack for a braai [barbeque]: put them on at the same time as the meat (they take only a few minutes to cook) and then pass them around with a pile of crisps or salty crackers while you finish cooking the steaks.

You can flavour these cheeses with anything you like - I used thyme and garlic - and any large, fresh, flexible leaf will do as a wrapping: fig leaves, spinach leaves, banana leaves, beetroot greens, or even a robust lettuce leaf. (Here I used mustard greens, which grow like weeds in containers in my garden). Don't worry about the leaves catching fire: their moisture prevents them from charring too quickly.  By the time they've blackened at the edges, the cheese will have collapsed into a herby goo.

 

This, I might add, is the only dish that I've so far managed to cook successfully on my brand-new, super-duper, Taj Mahal of a braai-and-pizza oven.  I fired up the new braai on Sunday for the first time, partly because I'd laid my hands on a beautiful slab of fresh tuna, straight off a fishing boat, but also because I wanted to road-test my new grid. This grid, which I asked a local ironsmith to make, has a cunning feature: a third of the total space is covered by a removable double-decker section. This is designed, first, to keep food hot, and second to allow slow-cooking meat (such as chicken) to finish off at its own pace. The grid and its upper storey worked very well; the tuna steaks, on the other hand, were... um.... well,  they were deliciously, spankingly fresh, but they overcooked in a matter of minutes, welding themselves so resolutely to the new and shining grid that I started hunting for a crowbar.

Clearly, there is a long way to go before I get this outdoor cooking arena working perfectly.  (And the pizza oven?  Oh, please don't mention the bloody pizza oven.  I fired it up once, and the results were dismal.  The wood burned out too quickly, the oven didn't get hot enough, and the pizzas were floppy, stodgy and riddled with concrete dust. Certain members of my family were so disgusted with their 'pizzas' that they dumped them in the bin. Some gave scornful snorts at my bourgeois efforts to own a pizza oven. But that's another story.)

Thank goodness for the cheese.

Leaf-Wrapped Wine-Soused Camembert, Cooked over the Coals
4 small, just-ripe Camembert cheeses
250 ml (1 cup) white wine
2 T (30 ml) olive oil
2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
12 large, fresh green leaves (see notes above)
a few sprigs of fresh thyme, or herbs of your choice
salt and milled black pepper

The day before you want to braai the cheeses (or at least six hours in advance), use a sharp knife to slice off the top layer of rind, removing about 2mm.  Put the cheeses, and the sliced-off rinds, into a shallow dish. Prick holes, using a fork, all over the soft upper surfaces of the cheeses. Mix together the wine, olive oil and crushed garlic, and pour the mixture over the cheeses.  Cover with cling film and set aside in a cool place.  Turn the cheeses once or twice while they marinate.

Soak 1.5 metres of string in cold water ten minutes.  Remove any large, stiff stalks from the leaves.  Place two leaves, crosswise, on your counter top.  Place a wheel of cheese on top.  Drizzle some of the marinade over the cheese, top with a few sprigs of thyme, season with salt and pepper, and cover with the sliced-off 'lid' of rind.

 

Place another leaf on top. Cut off a 40-cm length of wet string and slide it under the bottom-most leaf.  Gather the edges of the leaves up into a parcel, pleating and tucking as you go, and secure it by knotting the string around it in six 'spokes'  (see picture, left.) Don't worry if the parcel is scruffy: as long as there are no gaping holes, your cheese is safe. Repeat the process with the remaining cheeses.

Place the parcels over hot coals, face down, for about three minutes, or until the top of the parcel is browned. Before the cheese melts completely, flip over the parcel, using a spatula, and allow the underside to cook for another three to five minutes  (depending on the heat of your coals). The very instant you see cheese seeping from the parcel, it's ready. Serve immediately.

Serves 8. http://whatsforsupper-juno.blogspot.com/2009/08/spring-salad-of-edamane-beans-fennel.html

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Beetroot Hummous with Wilted Greens, Feta and Lemon

Blood, iron, rubies and cold water running over pebbles come to mind as I fall like a deprived vampire on this earthy feast. Sorry to come over all po-hetical, but the mysterious deliciousness of brilliant-cerise beetroot hummous piled on dark, lemony greens sends my brain-buds into rhapsodies.

Beetroot Hummous with Wilted Greens, Feta and Lemon

And do you like this gorgeous red-glass plate? (Er, it might actually be yours, because I can't remember ever having bought it, and found it in my cupboards during a turf-out. If it is yours, may I keep it?) The red of this dish was so intense that my cheapie camera couldn't cope with it, which is why this picture looks rather redly surreal.

I developed this recipe by combining two dishes I  have so enjoyed this year: Mike Karamanof's fresh beetroot greens with olive oil dressing, and the lovely beetroot, cumin and garlic dip my sister Sophie made me last time I was in Cape Town.

I've added chickpeas and tahina to the beetroot to make a more substantial dip, and feta cheese to the greens for a lovely, creamy and salty contrast.  Any sort of dark, leafy green will do for this recipe: I used a combination of Swiss chard and beetroot greens, but it would also be good with baby spinach leaves, pak choy, or similar.

If you don't feel like eating wilted greens, make up a batch of beetroot hummous, anoint with a good slick of olive oil and cover with cling film. It will last up to four days in the fridge, and is just heavenly spread on toast, piled on a baked potato or spooned directly from the dish into your mouth, for breakfast.

I  haven't given exact quantities here: taste the dish as you go along. This dish is best served warm.

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Beetroot Hummous with Wilted Greens, Feta and Lemon

For the hummous:
6 medium-sized beetroot bulbs, untrimmed
6 fat cloves fresh garlic, unpeeled
salt and milled black pepper
a little olive oil for baking
1 Tbsp (15 ml) tahina (sesame-seed paste)
a can of chickpeas, drained of their liquid
1 and 1/2 tsp (7.5 ml) freshly ground cumin
the juice of a lemon
about 125 ml (half a cup) olive oil

For the greens:
a large bunch of young Swiss chard, baby spinach, beetroot greens or similar
the juice of a lemon
olive oil
salt and milled black pepper
feta cheese

First make the hummous. Preheat the oven to 180° C. Lightly scrub the beetroot bulbs to remove any grit, but don't trim or peel them. Put them, and five cloves of unpeeled garlic, on a large sheet of tin foil. Add a pinch of salt and a grinding of pepper, and drizzle over a little olive oil. Fold up the edges of the foil and seal tightly to make a loose parcel. Place the parcel in the hot oven and bake for an hour or two (the time will depend on the age of your beetroot) or until the beetroot is quite soft when pierced with a sharp knife.

Trim off the tails and stalks of the beetroot. Cut into cubes and place in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade (if you're making  the hummous on its own, reserve half a beetroot, and a few chickpeas, for garnishing).  Squeeze the softened garlic cloves out of their papery casings and add to the food processor bowl along with the tahina, chickpeas, cumin, lemon juice and half  (about 60 ml) of the olive oil. Blitz the mixture, at high speed, to a purée, adding just enough extra olive oil to create a smooth, thick paste.   Season with salt and pepper, to taste.  If the hummous needs a little more zing, add another squeeze of lemon juice. Decant into a bowl. (If you're serving this as a dip on its own, top with the finely diced reserved beetroot, a few whole chickpeas, a dusting of cumin and/or cayenne pepper and olive oil.) Cover with clingfilm and set aside.

Now prepare the greens. Heat a big saucepan, wok or frying pan. Trim away any very thick stalks (but leave all the slender remaining stalks on). Rinse the leaves well under cold running water, give them a good shake, and put them, with water still clinging to their leaves, in the hot pan. Cook for seven to ten minutes, tossing frequently, or until the stalks are tender ( but have a little crunch remaining) and most of the liquid has evaporated. Don't worry if the greens begin to lose their fresh green colour as the stalks cook: this is vegetable dish, not a salad!  Remove from the heat, drain off any remaining liquid and dress with lemon juice and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper and toss well.

Swirl the the greens onto a warmed platter and crumble over the feta cheese.  Pile the warm beetroot hummous on top.

Lovely with fresh bread for mopping up the juices.

Serves 6 as a starter or 8 as a side salad.

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A wild craving finds its cure: Beetroot, Cumin and Garlic Dip

I don't often feel like plunging my face into a bowl of food and inhaling it like a starving piglet, but when I tasted the glorious scarletness of this beetroot dip for the first time, the taste pathways in my brain went beserk. There were sighs, there were low moans of pleasure, and there were showers of cortical sparks.

I don't know why my tastebuds (and my brain) were so excited and astonished by this addictive combination of earthy blood-red baby beetroot, warming ground cumin, crème fraîche and garlic, but what I can say is that this is the best dip I've tasted in many years, and that I intend to eat it every day - spread on toast, or over a baked potato, dobbled over a soup, or spooned directly from the bowl - until my body says it's had enough, and it's time to turn to horseradish or bitter chocolate or orange peel, or whatever my brain's flavour-du-jour is.

I first tasted this dip in Hout Bay, Cape Town, last week, when my sister Sophie casually whipped it up as a starter to be served before a delicious Cape-Malay style chicken curry made in advance by her nanny/au pair.

Sophie gave me the basic ingredients, although she couldn't, off-hand, remember the quantities.

So here is my version. If you don't feel like buying and baking fresh beetroot, use pre-prepared cooked fresh beetroot chunks, available in South Africa from Woolworths. But please, don't use pickled or canned beetroot, which tends to be so vinegary. This dish is best with freshly ground, toasted cumin seeds, but you can use pre-powdered cumin if it is very fresh.

Beetroot, Cumin and Garlic Dip

4 small fresh beetroot [or a pack of Woolworths beetroots chunks]
1 t (5 ml) cumin seeds
1 fat clove garlic, peeled and finely crushed
4 T (60 ml) crème fraîche, or sour cream or Greek yoghurt, or a combination
2 T (30 ml) olive oil
a squeeze of lemon juice
salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 200 C. Trim the leafy tops off the beetroot (but don't peel, or cut into, the bulbs), wrap tightly into a parcel of tin foil (or put in a lidded ceramic dish) place in the oven for an hour, or until completely tender when pierced with the point of a sharp knife. Remove the parcel from the oven and allow to cool for half an hour. In the meantime, put the cumin seeds in a frying pan and set over a medium-high heat. Toss the cumin seeds until they are just warmed through and toasty, and then grind them to a fine powder in a mortar or coffee grinder.

Rub the skin off the beetroot with your fingers, cut off the tops and tails, chop roughly and place in a liquidizer or blender. Add the toasted cumin powder, the garlic, the crème fraîche (or yoghurt) and the olive oil and process to a fine puree (or a chunky one, depending on your preference). Taste the mixture: if it seems bland, add a tiny squeeze of fresh lemon juice. Season well with salt and pepper.

Tip the mixture into a bowl and top with a shower of cumin, a lick of olive oil and perhaps a little yoghurt.

Serves 6, as a snack Print Friendly

Quick Vegetable and Feta 'Strudel' with Lemon, Dill and Yoghurt Sauce

Why, you might ask, am I thinking about summer food in the crackly depths of the Johannesburg winter? Well, although it gets cold here at night, the afternoons are often gloriously warm and sunny, and the ineffable blue of a winter Highveld sky makes it difficult not to think of spring.

This light, summery roll of phyllo pastry and crunchy little vegetables in a lemony butter makes a lovely starter or lunch. You can prepare this in under 25 minutes, if you buy packs of pre-cut, crisp baby vegetables, and if you use spray-on olive oil (see my notes here), instead of melted butter, to glaze the phyllo sheets.

You can use any combination of quick-cooking, crisp baby vegetables for this recipe: I used two Woolworths packs of mixed vegetable pieces: baby corn, asparagus, green beans, carrot and butternut batons, courgettes and mangetout.

It is important not to overcook the veggies during the quick initial stir-fry, or they will lose their colour and crunch in the oven. Any fresh herb can be used to flavour the dressing, but I think that the combination of dill and lemon is sublime. I am a devoted fan of this most ethereal of herbs, and have discovered that you can freeze fresh dill for use during the dill-less winter months. See my note at the end of this post.

This parcel goes into a very hot oven so that the pastry crisps quickly, and the vegetables don't overcook: watch your parcel like a hawk as it bakes.

Quick Baby Vegetable and Feta 'Strudel' with Lemon and Dill Sauce

2 T (30 ml) butter
1 T (15 ml) olive oil
3 carrots, peeled and cut into pieces the size of your pinky finger
a few sprigs of fresh thyme
4 cups of crisp baby vegetables (see notes above), cut into pieces
1 clove garlic, peeled and crushed
the juice of half a lemon
3 T (45 ml) freshly chopped parsley
salt and milled black pepper
4 sheets of phyllo pastry
spray-on olive oil, or olive oil, or melted butter
1 and 1/2 wheels (or a block the size of a deck of cards) of feta cheese, cubed

For the sauce:

1/2 cup (125 ml) good mayonnaise (Hellman's or home-made)
1/2 cup (125 ml) thick plain white yoghurt
1 T (15 ml) finely chopped fresh dill *
the juice of half a lemon
1 small clove garlic, crushed
salt and freshly milled black pepper

Preheat the oven to 210°C. Heat the butter and olive oil in a frying pan and add the carrot and the thyme sprigs. Cook over a fairly brisk heat, tossing often, for four minutes. Now add all the remaining baby vegetables, and stir-fry them for two minutes, until they are brightly coloured. Remove the pan from the heat and mix in the garlic, lemon juice and parsley. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside and allow to cool.

Cover a large chopping board or a baking sheet with a sheet of phyllo pastry. Brush all over with melted butter, or olive oil, or - the quick way - coat with spray-on olive oil. Add another sheet of pastry, and continue layering in this way until you've used all four sheets. Pile the cooked vegetables in a strip down the middle of the pastry, leaving a gap of an inch or so at either end of the pile. Arrange the cubed feta along the top and sides of the vegetables, and sprinkle with a little more olive oil and a squeeze of lemon juice. Pick up the long edge of the pastry closest to you and flip it over the vegetables. Brush with more fat, and then fold the other long side towards you, as if you are wrapping a present. Now fold the shorter sides of the pastry inwards (don't pleat them first) to make a neat parcel.

Place a greased baking sheet, face-down, on top of the parcel, hold it and the chopping board firmly, and flip the whole thing over so the pastry parcel lies smooth-side up on the baking sheet and the fold seams are on the bottom. Brush with more butter or oil and place in the hot oven for 10 to 15 minutes (depending on the ferocity of your oven) or until the phyllo pastry is crisp and just turning golden. Remove from the oven and allow to cool slightly.

While the parcel is cooking, make the dressing: put all the ingredients in a bowl and whisk until well combined. Place in the fridge.

Using a serrated knife, cut into thick slices and serve warm, with a big dollop of cool dill dressing.

Serves 4 as a light meal, or 6 as a starter.


Freezing dill: It is common wisdom that fresh dill is too fragile to freeze. Well, I beg to differ. You can freeze fresh dill, provided that you have a very cold and reliable freezer. Sure, it will darken and crisp, and it won't be suitable for salads or for garnishes, but it will retain its lovely, delicate aniseed flavour for up to two months in the freezer, and can be used in salad dressings, sauces and the like without losing any pungency. Some pointers: buy the dill in a plastic 'pillow pack' or box. Don't open or unwrap it, or rinse it: place the whole package into the freezer. If you're have bought a bunch of fresh dill, put it into a freezer bag and use a drinking straw to suck out any air. Seal tightly and freeze. When you take it out of the freezer, quickly remove however much you need and immediately crumble it directly into your sauce or dressing (it thaws in seconds).

Did you notice that the picture above has six layers of phyllo, not four? That's because I tore the parcel when I flipped it over, using two spatulas, and had to patch it with two more sheets. I don't recommend using six sheets: far too much pastry. But the filling tasted good! Print Friendly

Cauliflower with Butter, Lemon, Parsley and Crispy Breadcrumbs

"Training is everything. The peach was once a bitter almond; cauliflower is nothing but cabbage with a college education." I think of Mark Twain's famous words every time I look at the curious 'brain' of a cauliflower, which I reckon is one of the world's most underrated vegetables, along with parsnips and celeriac.

Okay, I concede that overcooked, flabby cauliflower is just revolting - fartily whiffy, slimy, and stinking of boarding school - but a dishful of fresh, springy white cauliflower florets, cloaked in cheesy Béchamel sauce or a zinging salad dressing, or crunchily pickled with peppery spices, is just a joy.

I only ever make cauliflower cheese (or my cauliflower-cheese soup recipe) so I was interested to come across a recipe, in Robert Carrier's seminal seventies book Great Dishes of the World, for Cauliflower à la Polonaise. The combination of lemon juice and cauliflower had never occurred to me; but it works so well here, with plenty of butter, and crunchy fried breadcrumbs.

You can do this with a whole head of cauliflower, or you can break the cauliflower up into florets and coat them in the sauce. I took the picture above with a whole head, trying to be clever - like a cauliflower! - and then decided this was a ridiculous idea, as the sauce wouldn't be able to coat every chunk. I then broke the cooked head apart, tossed everything together, and served it up to the hordes.

Robert Carrier's original recipe calls for diced ham, but I don't think this dish needs it.

Cauliflower with Butter, Lemon, Parsley and Crispy Breadcrumbs

1 small, fresh head of cauliflower
1 tsp (5 ml) salt
a slice of lemon
2 extra-large free-range eggs
½ cup (125 ml) melted butter
4 Tbsp (60 ml) breadcrumbs (blitz a few slices of white bread in a food-processor)
the juice of 1 lemon
4 Tbsp (60 ml)  finely chopped fresh parsley
salt and milled black pepper

Fill a big saucepan with water, add the salt and the lemon slice, and bring to the boil. Remove the green outer leaves of the cauliflower and trim the stalk, and any brown bits.

Submerge the whole head of cauliflower in the boiling water and cook for 15-20 minutes, or until it's just tender and yields to a knife. (Cauliflower cooks beautifully in a microwave oven: see Cook's Notes at the end of this post.)

In the meantime, put the eggs on to boil. Fill a small saucepan with water and bring to the boil. Gently lower the eggs into the boiling water, and cook for 10 minutes. Take the pan off the heat, pour off the boiling water, and run cold water over the eggs until their shells feel cool to the touch. Crack and peel the eggs, chop them into a fine dice, cover with cling film and set aside.

Remove the head of cauliflower from the water and drain, upside down, in a colander over the sink.

Heat the butter in a frying pan. When it stops foaming, tip in the breadcrumbs and fry them for a few minutes, or until they turn golden brown and crunchy. Remove from the heat and stir in the lemon juice, parsley and chopped boiled egg. Season well with salt and pepper.

Put the head of cauliflower into dish, and pour the buttery mixture over it. Or - if you're not looking for a cheffy result - break the cooked cauliflower into florets, place in a dish, and coat with the butter sauce.

Serve hot, with extra parsley.

Serves 4 as a side dish.Cook's Note:

To cook a whole cauliflower in the microwave oven, put it in a deep glass or ceramic dish and add half a cup of water. Cover with a plate or lid and microwave on high for about eight minutes. Push a sharp knife into the cauliflower to test for doneness. If it feels crunchy and unyielding, continue to cook it in two-minute bursts, or until it is just tender to a sharp knife. At this point, remove it from the microwave, douse it in cool water for a minute, and set it upside down in a colander to drain. Don't allow the cauliflower to sit in its steaming dish: it will turn into an overcooked mush. Print Friendly

Microwaving veggies: try a paper bag!

Since my last post about the deliciousness of microwaved vegetables, I've spent a few hours experimenting with different cooking techniques for various lovely seasonal veggies, including fresh asparagus and broccoli, ears of sweetcorn, tiny new potatoes and frozen peas.

I've tried everything: putting the veggies naked on the turntable; placing them in a glass jug topped with an upturned plate; wrapping them in various things (clingfilm, sandwich paper, dry newspaper, wet newspaper, clingfilm); putting them in a bamboo steamer; even sealing them in a Tupperware container. All were good, but not one technique stood out as brilliant, until....

UNTIL... the white paper bag. I put a fistful of fat fresh asparagus spears into a plain white paper bag, added a tiny sprinkling of water, folded the top of the bag over once or twice, and microwaved on High for three minutes. To say that I nearly fainted when I tasted them, dipped deeply into a bowl of foaming lemon butter, is no exaggeration. Try the technique: you will be amazed at the results. The paper bag traps all the steamy flavour, allows the veggies to cook quickly, and keeps them moist and slightly springy - but never soggy. I then experimented with broccoli, sweet corn and sugar-snap peas, with the same excellent results.

Though I used white paper bags, I'm sure a plain brown paper bag would work just as well.

Tips:

- Put the veggies into the paper bag immediately before you microwave them. If you leave them lying around in the bag, the paper might go soggy and split.

- Add a few flavourings to the bag. To my broccoli bag, I added a dash of Kikkoman soy sauce, a squeeze of lemon juice and a fresh garlic clove. To a paper bag of frozen peas, add a few sprigs of fresh mint and a lump of butter. A sprig of rosemary tucked into a bag of tiny new potatoes will impart a lovely resiny flavour.

- Instead of adding a splish of water to the bag, try a sprinkling of lemon juice, white wine or chicken stock. Print Friendly

Buttery Parsnip Mash

The Parsnip (Pastinaca sativa).
 Image: Wikimedia Commons

Parsnips are very well named, don't you agree? The word sounds like a parsnip looks: a big bulbous beginning tapering to a skinny little snippy-snappy bit. To me they look a little like goblins' legs, which is maybe why my kids have never worked up any enthusiasm for them.

This dish, however, received guarded approval from my taste team. The parsnips  I used were getting on for elderly, which is perhaps why this mash was so voluptuous.

You could add some orange juice and finely grated orange rind, or perhaps a pinch of ground cumin and coriander, or nutmeg, but I think it's just right tasting only of parsnip and butter.

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Buttery Parsnip Mash

8 large parsnips, peeled
3 Tbsp (45 ml) butter
water, to cover
a pinch of salt
3-4 Tbsp (45-60 ml) cream
salt and milled black pepper

Cut the parsnips lengthways into quarters. If they have tough-looking fibrous cores, ease these out using a sharp knife, and discard.  Cut into small chunks.

Heat the butter in a saucepan, add the parsnip pieces and fry gently for five minutes. Now add just enough water to cover the parsnips.

Boil briskly until all the water has evaporated and the parsnips are very tender (top with with more water if necessary). Add the cream and mash to until smooth and fine. The amount of cream you use depends on the size and age of the 'snips - I suggest you start with two tablespoons, and keep adding more until you're satisfied with the consistency.

At this point, you can push the mash through a sieve to make a silken purée, but usually can't be bothered.

Serves 6 as a side dish.


My rating: 10/10
Teenagers' rating: 7/10
Small-daughter rating: 5/10 ('Nice, but a bit sticky and hairy')


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