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Thursday, 24 January 2008
Commentless: is this the world's least popular blog?
I suppose I'm asking for a bit of support, a tiny crumb or crust (which you might rub with a clove of garlic, sprinkle with sea salt, and then toast on an open fire), by giving this post that title. But, can you blame me? This blog has attracted 3 (three) comments since it opened months and months ago. Shall I give it up? Pull the plug? Throw the baby out with the bathwater?
Breaking news: this blog has changed is name.Print Friendly
Breaking news: this blog has changed is name.
Print Friendly
Friday, 18 January 2008
Easy Power-Failure Sweet Chilli Jam
I bought a gargantuan box of sweet, deep-red tomatoes from my greengrocer yesterday, for a mere thirty ront (R30). What a bargain, I thought as I staggered to my car. Every household needs 5000 tomatoes that promise to reach a pinnacle of ripeness within the next 20 minutes. It only hit me when I got home, and had to hire a forklift to get the box of tomatoes out of my car boot, that perhaps not everyone would appreciate gazpacho for supper for the next six weeks. So all the scarlet lovelies ended up in a Sweet Chilli Jam.
I didn't have a recipe, and couldn't look for one on the Net, because there was yet another power failure in our area (luckily I have city gas, so I can at least use the hob) so I improvised a quick cheat's recipe, using some old chutney recipes as a guide.
Stirring and scraping a cauldron of spitting red goo was a good way to while away the hours until the lights finally came on just after darkness fell. I've scaled this recipe down so it makes about 3 jars of sauce.
Excellent on a Cheddar sandwich, in stir-fries, or poured over a disc of ripe Camembert.
Power-Failure Sweet Chilli Jam
12 large, ripe, red tomatoes
2 big red peppers (capsicums)
4 (or more, depending on how hot you'd like your sauce) fresh red chillies
1 thumb-size piece fresh ginger, coarsely grated
2½ cups (625 ml) white sugar (or more, depending on the wateriness and acidity of the tomatoes)
4 Tbsp (60 ml) Balsamic or white wine vinegar
salt to taste
Roughly chop the tomatoes, peppers and chillies (skin, seeds and all) and place in a liquidiser, or a blender fitted with a metal blade, together with the grated ginger. Whizz on the highest setting for a minute until processed to a foamy, thinnish liquid: don't worry if there are pips, or bits and pieces of pith and peel bobbing around. Pour into a large, deep pan and tip in the sugar and the vinegar. Add salt, to taste. Place over a medium heat and bring to the boil, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon to dissolve the sugar. Now turn the heat right up and boil vigorously for 30-45 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent the mixture from catching. Use a large flat metal spoon to skim any foam or scum from the surface of the sauce.
In the meantime, rinse three small glass jars (or bottles, or Tupperware blikkies) in very hot water. If you're fastidious (which I am not) you can sterilise them first by microwaving the wet jars on high for three minutes, or by placing them, and their lids, in a clean saucepan of rapidly boiling water for five minutes. Drain upside down on a paper towel.
Taste the mixture - if it's too sweet, add a little more vinegar. When the mixture darkens a little, becomes syrupy and spits angrily when you stir it, it's nearly ready.
If you have a sugar thermometer, bring the mixture up to a few degrees below jam point. Or, much easier, take an ice cube from the freezer and drop a large blob of the mixture on to it. If the mixture, once it's cooled for 20 seconds, slides enthusiastically off the ice cube, you're not there yet - carry on boiling it for a little longer. If the sauce sets to a wobbly, trembling gel within 20 seconds of hitting the ice cube, it's ready.
Remove from the heat and allow to cool for five minutes.
Put a sheet of newspaper under the hot jars and use a ladle to fill each jar almost to the brim. Screw on the lids tightly. If the jars are sticky on the outside, give them a quick rinse under the hot tap before you put them away.
Makes about 700 ml.
POSTSCRIPT: Store the jam in the fridge once you've opened it. I left two open jars in the cupboard and they lasted a month before they started to ferment, and I had to chuck them in the bin. This is probably because I neglected to sterilise the jars properly.Print Friendly
 |
| Here's a pic of the finished product (I think pictures might enliven this blog a bit, don't you?) |
Stirring and scraping a cauldron of spitting red goo was a good way to while away the hours until the lights finally came on just after darkness fell. I've scaled this recipe down so it makes about 3 jars of sauce.
Excellent on a Cheddar sandwich, in stir-fries, or poured over a disc of ripe Camembert.
Power-Failure Sweet Chilli Jam
12 large, ripe, red tomatoes
2 big red peppers (capsicums)
4 (or more, depending on how hot you'd like your sauce) fresh red chillies
1 thumb-size piece fresh ginger, coarsely grated
2½ cups (625 ml) white sugar (or more, depending on the wateriness and acidity of the tomatoes)
4 Tbsp (60 ml) Balsamic or white wine vinegar
salt to taste
Roughly chop the tomatoes, peppers and chillies (skin, seeds and all) and place in a liquidiser, or a blender fitted with a metal blade, together with the grated ginger. Whizz on the highest setting for a minute until processed to a foamy, thinnish liquid: don't worry if there are pips, or bits and pieces of pith and peel bobbing around. Pour into a large, deep pan and tip in the sugar and the vinegar. Add salt, to taste. Place over a medium heat and bring to the boil, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon to dissolve the sugar. Now turn the heat right up and boil vigorously for 30-45 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent the mixture from catching. Use a large flat metal spoon to skim any foam or scum from the surface of the sauce.
In the meantime, rinse three small glass jars (or bottles, or Tupperware blikkies) in very hot water. If you're fastidious (which I am not) you can sterilise them first by microwaving the wet jars on high for three minutes, or by placing them, and their lids, in a clean saucepan of rapidly boiling water for five minutes. Drain upside down on a paper towel.
Taste the mixture - if it's too sweet, add a little more vinegar. When the mixture darkens a little, becomes syrupy and spits angrily when you stir it, it's nearly ready.
If you have a sugar thermometer, bring the mixture up to a few degrees below jam point. Or, much easier, take an ice cube from the freezer and drop a large blob of the mixture on to it. If the mixture, once it's cooled for 20 seconds, slides enthusiastically off the ice cube, you're not there yet - carry on boiling it for a little longer. If the sauce sets to a wobbly, trembling gel within 20 seconds of hitting the ice cube, it's ready.
Remove from the heat and allow to cool for five minutes.
Put a sheet of newspaper under the hot jars and use a ladle to fill each jar almost to the brim. Screw on the lids tightly. If the jars are sticky on the outside, give them a quick rinse under the hot tap before you put them away.
Makes about 700 ml.
POSTSCRIPT: Store the jam in the fridge once you've opened it. I left two open jars in the cupboard and they lasted a month before they started to ferment, and I had to chuck them in the bin. This is probably because I neglected to sterilise the jars properly.
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Tuesday, 15 January 2008
Mango and Cheddar Toasties
I hesitate to post this recipe, because it's so peculiar. But it's very, very good, especially if you like the combination of cheese and fruit. This was made for me by a friend many, many years ago, in a tiny little flat in Dublin, and was the perfect pick-me-up after a long, gruelling, overnight ferry trip across the Irish sea. I won't go into details, suffice to say that it was lucky I had a big plastic handbag, because the crossing was so rough and nauseating that there was no chance of making it to the... well, that's enough for now.
Mangoes are in season in Johannesburg right now, my goodness, it is a bumper season - the shops are filled with the most beautiful globes in riotous sunset colours.
Mango and Cheddar Toasties
8 slices white or brown bread
2 firm, ripe mangoes, peeled and thinly sliced
2 tsp wholegrain mustard
a block of sharp matured Cheddar, thinly sliced
milled black pepper
Preheat the oven grill for 10 minutes.
Put the slices of bread in a single layer on a baking sheet and place under the hot grill. When they're nicely toasted on once side, remove from the oven and turn over. Spread a thin lick of mustard on each slice. Top with two or three slices of mango. Now cover with thin slices of Cheddar, making sure that the corners of the toast slices are covered in cheese. Grind over plenty of black pepper.
Put the baking sheet back into the oven and grill until the cheese is bubbling and beginning to turn golden brown. Cut into quarters.
Serve hot.
Serves 4-6 as a snack
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Mangoes are in season in Johannesburg right now, my goodness, it is a bumper season - the shops are filled with the most beautiful globes in riotous sunset colours.
Mango and Cheddar Toasties
8 slices white or brown bread
2 firm, ripe mangoes, peeled and thinly sliced
2 tsp wholegrain mustard
a block of sharp matured Cheddar, thinly sliced
milled black pepper
Preheat the oven grill for 10 minutes.
Put the slices of bread in a single layer on a baking sheet and place under the hot grill. When they're nicely toasted on once side, remove from the oven and turn over. Spread a thin lick of mustard on each slice. Top with two or three slices of mango. Now cover with thin slices of Cheddar, making sure that the corners of the toast slices are covered in cheese. Grind over plenty of black pepper.
Put the baking sheet back into the oven and grill until the cheese is bubbling and beginning to turn golden brown. Cut into quarters.
Serve hot.
Serves 4-6 as a snack
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Wednesday, 9 January 2008
Durban-Spiced Prawns with Coconut Cream
I am in raptures at the idea of crunching down on a garlicky prawn, and then shlurping the buttery, lemony, shellfishy juices from its head. I got the chance to do this twice in December, while on holiday on the KZN South Coast. Am I the lucky one?
Yes, I jolly well am. I'm lucky because I can occasionally (very occasionally, ie, once a year) afford to buy 2 kg of beautiful big pink Mozambiquan prawns, and cook them on a griddle, over a campfire, under the stars, in the singing bush, close to the beach, in the company of good friends and fine wine... oh, I wish it was December again.
Even though they're bought frozen, and so aren't as springy-fleshed as the expensive beasts you get in top-notch South African restaurants, Mozambique prawns are very, very good. A quick griddling and a bowlful of lemon-garlic butter is all you need, but if you're in the mood for something utterly delicious, try them in a mildly curried, garlicky, creamy, zingy, coconutty sauce. I call this recipe 'Durban-spiced' because of the fragrant, spanking-fresh spices it contains. Although I buy them from a wonderful spice shop in the coastal town of Shelly Beach, they come to South Africa via Durban. And if you haven't tasted a Durban curry, well.....
If you can't find freshly ground spices, buy the seeds and roast and grind them yourself: it makes all the difference.
Durban-Spiced Prawns with Coconut Cream
2 kg prawns, in their shells
olive oil
4 T (60 ml) black mustard seeds
For the marinade:
4 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
a thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, finely grated
juice and finely grated rind of two fat lemons
4 T (60 ml) olive oil
2 T (30 ml) freshly ground coriander
2 T (30 ml) freshly ground cumin
1 T turmeric
1 T paprika
1-4 t (5-20 ml) cayenne pepper or fresh chilli powder (depending on how hot you'd like your prawns)
1 tsp (5 ml) Tabasco sauce
a handful of curry leaves, fresh or dried
salt and freshly milled black pepper
To finish:
350 ml tinned coconut cream (or more, if you'd like plenty of sauce)
1 big bunch fresh coriander, finely chopped
a squeeze of lemon juice
thin lemon slices
Devein and clean the prawns and put them in a deep plastic bowl. Add all the marinade ingredients to the bowl and, using your hands, toss the prawns so that they are well coated in the marinade. Cover with clingfilm and set aside in a cool place for at least an hour.
Heat a few teaspoons of olive oil in a large, deep frying pan, or on a flat griddle or ridged skottel placed over a wood fire or a gas braai. When the oil is very hot, but not yet smoking, add the mustard seeds and fry until they begin to pop and sputter. Tip into a bowl, drain off the oil, and set aside. Add more olive oil to the pan and turn up the heat. Remove the prawns from the marinade dish using a slotted spoon and fry them, in batches, over a high flame, until they are just cooked (about 4-5 minutes). Don't overcrowd the pan. Set aside and keep warm.
When the last batch is done, tip the remains of the marinade into the frying pan or griddle pan. Now add the coconut milk and the reserved mustard seeds, and stir or scrape briskly to dislodge the golden-brown residue on the bottom of the pan. Allow to bubble for a minute over a high flame. Now tip the reserved prawns back into the pan, and toss well to coat. Add a squeeze of lemon juice and, if necessary, season with more salt and pepper.
Tip the prawns into a heated platter and top with thin lemon slices and fresh coriander.
Serve as a main course with Basmati rice, or as a starter.
Serves 6-8 (main course) or 12 (starter)
*** Or am I the angry one? Read my rant about holidaymakers plundering this coastline for a handful of miniature mussels.Print Friendly
Even though they're bought frozen, and so aren't as springy-fleshed as the expensive beasts you get in top-notch South African restaurants, Mozambique prawns are very, very good. A quick griddling and a bowlful of lemon-garlic butter is all you need, but if you're in the mood for something utterly delicious, try them in a mildly curried, garlicky, creamy, zingy, coconutty sauce. I call this recipe 'Durban-spiced' because of the fragrant, spanking-fresh spices it contains. Although I buy them from a wonderful spice shop in the coastal town of Shelly Beach, they come to South Africa via Durban. And if you haven't tasted a Durban curry, well.....
If you can't find freshly ground spices, buy the seeds and roast and grind them yourself: it makes all the difference.
Durban-Spiced Prawns with Coconut Cream
2 kg prawns, in their shells
olive oil
4 T (60 ml) black mustard seeds
For the marinade:
4 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
a thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, finely grated
juice and finely grated rind of two fat lemons
4 T (60 ml) olive oil
2 T (30 ml) freshly ground coriander
2 T (30 ml) freshly ground cumin
1 T turmeric
1 T paprika
1-4 t (5-20 ml) cayenne pepper or fresh chilli powder (depending on how hot you'd like your prawns)
1 tsp (5 ml) Tabasco sauce
a handful of curry leaves, fresh or dried
salt and freshly milled black pepper
To finish:
350 ml tinned coconut cream (or more, if you'd like plenty of sauce)
1 big bunch fresh coriander, finely chopped
a squeeze of lemon juice
thin lemon slices
Devein and clean the prawns and put them in a deep plastic bowl. Add all the marinade ingredients to the bowl and, using your hands, toss the prawns so that they are well coated in the marinade. Cover with clingfilm and set aside in a cool place for at least an hour.
Heat a few teaspoons of olive oil in a large, deep frying pan, or on a flat griddle or ridged skottel placed over a wood fire or a gas braai. When the oil is very hot, but not yet smoking, add the mustard seeds and fry until they begin to pop and sputter. Tip into a bowl, drain off the oil, and set aside. Add more olive oil to the pan and turn up the heat. Remove the prawns from the marinade dish using a slotted spoon and fry them, in batches, over a high flame, until they are just cooked (about 4-5 minutes). Don't overcrowd the pan. Set aside and keep warm.
When the last batch is done, tip the remains of the marinade into the frying pan or griddle pan. Now add the coconut milk and the reserved mustard seeds, and stir or scrape briskly to dislodge the golden-brown residue on the bottom of the pan. Allow to bubble for a minute over a high flame. Now tip the reserved prawns back into the pan, and toss well to coat. Add a squeeze of lemon juice and, if necessary, season with more salt and pepper.
Tip the prawns into a heated platter and top with thin lemon slices and fresh coriander.
Serve as a main course with Basmati rice, or as a starter.
Serves 6-8 (main course) or 12 (starter)
*** Or am I the angry one? Read my rant about holidaymakers plundering this coastline for a handful of miniature mussels.
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