Chickpea and Feta Fritters with a Mint &Paprika Dressing

Chickpea Fritters with a perky mint & paprika dressing 

A chewable form of hummous is how I'd describe these little fritters, because they contain all the ingredients (and flavours) of that heavenly Middle Eastern dip, with the bonus of a little crunch when you bite into them.

I am mad about hummous, and could eat it every day (in fact, I usually do). It's extraordinary that chickpeas - which, face it, taste as dull as ditch water, especially if they've been been boiled to buggery and then tinned - can be transformed, with the addition of just a few sparky ingredients, into a paste that is so zingingly delicious. But it's their very blandness and flouriness that makes these little legumes such good carriers of flavour, and they really come into their own when paired with pungent spices and fresh herbs.

These aren't really fritters, because they're not deep-fried: they're more like griddle cakes. Whatever you want to call them, they're very quick and easy to make if you have food processor fitted with a metal blade. Watch them closely as they fry, as they turn from golden brown to charcoal in a matter of seconds.

When I was imagining this recipe (it's usually when I'm lying awake and fidgeting in the middle of the night that my thoughts turn to food) I thought it would be interesting with grated halloumi cheese, for extra texture, but my local shop doesn't stock it, so feta had to do, and it did well.

Feel free to use dried chickpeas, if you have the patience to soak and boil them. I don't.

Chickpea and Feta Fritters, with a Mint and Paprika Dressing

2 x 250g tins chickpeas, drained
2 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
half a white onion, peeled and sliced
1 tsp (5 ml) Tabasco sauce
1 Tbsp (15 ml) tahini
finely grated zest of half a lemon
the juice of a lemon
1 tsp (5 ml) salt
3 eggs
½ cup (125 ml) chopped flat-leaf parsley
½ cup (125 ml) chopped fresh coriander [cilantro]
3/4 cup (180 ml) white flour
2 tsp (10 ml) powdered cumin
milled black pepper
100 g feta cheese
vegetable oil for frying

For the dressing:
5 Tbsp (75 ml) olive oil
the juice of a lemon
a pinch of salt
1 tsp (5 ml) smoked paprika
3 sprigs fresh mint

Put the chickpeas, garlic, onion, Tabasco, tahini, lemon zest, lemon juice and salt into the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade, and whizz to a paste. If the mixture is too stiff for the blades to turn, break an egg into the chute of the food processor. Now add the parsley and coriander and press the pulse button a few times so that the herbs are finely chopped but not puréed.  When the mixture looks smooth, tip it into a mixing bowl and add the remaining two eggs, the flour and the cumin. Mix very well. Crumble the feta cheese into the batter and season with black pepper and more salt, if necessary.  Place in the fridge for 15 minutes to firm up.

Heat the oven to 140°C and put a platter in to warm. Heat a few tablespoons of oil in a large frying pan. Using a spoon, drop blobs of batter (about 20 ml/4 tsp each) into the hot oil. Fry for about a minute, or until golden brown and crusty underneath, then flip over and cook for another minute. Drain on a piece of kitchen towel and place in the oven while you fry the rest of the fritters.

To make the dressing, whisk together all the ingredients, except for the mint, and decant into a little bowl. Just before you serve the fritters, strip the mint leaves from their stalks, slice into fine shreds, and stir into the dressing.

Serve the fritters piping hot, with the dressing as a dipping sauce.

Makes about 30 fritters.

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Calamari Salad with Thyme, Lemon, Chilli and Olives

This light, summery seafood salad, sparked with lemon juice, red chilli and fresh herbs, takes just ten minutes to make and keeps very well in the fridge for three to four days. Typically, not a single member of my fish-hating family was prepared to taste it.

Plate by David Walters

'I don't do tentacles', said my teen son. 'Are you kidding me?' said the other son.  'Eeeuw!' said my daughter. So guess who gobbled this up for lunch, three days running?

 I think it's such a pity that my kids, and my husband, are so wary about seafood.  Sure, they will eat battered, deep-fried linefish and calamari, and they tolerate - at a push - tinned tuna in a salad, or in a cheesy pasta sauce.  But if I present a fat fillet of spanking-fresh ocean fish, grilled and dressed with lemon juice and olive oil, there is a sullen mutiny at the dinner table.

But I'm determined to convert them, especially now that we are living ten minutes away from Hout Bay's beautiful fishing harbour. When I have a yearning for seafood (every second day or so), I visit all three of the fish shops located in the harbour, and spend a happy hour poring over the day's catch.  Most days, there's something fresh, flappy and shiny-eyed lying on a bed of crushed ice, but if the weather's bad, and the fish on on display looks like yesterday's goods, I'll grab a slab of something from the freezer.

I feel no shame at all in buying good-quality frozen seafood - including calamari, prawns and mussels - and I'm heartily sick of reading diatribes by food writers who claim that frozen shellfish (or frozen anything, for that matter) is disgusting, mushy and akin to dog food. Of course I'd rather have a fresh crayfish plucked from the ocean floor than one that's been ossifying in the deep-freeze for a month, but I reject, with a sniff, the idea that all frozen seafood isn't worth eating.

Now that I've got that off my chest: for this recipe, you will need small tubes and tentacles of calamari, which you will find fresh in selected branches of Woolworths, and frozen at good fish shops. I bought this batch from Mariner's Wharf, and it was as tender and sweet as a baby's bottom. The trick with calamari is not to overcook it: be warned, it turns from butter-soft rings to chewy elastic bands in a matter of minutes, so do set a timer - or watch the clock - while you cook it. If you can't find fresh calamari, use frozen Patagonian tubes.

This recipe is easily doubled.

Calamari Salad with Thyme, Lemon, Chilli and Olives

500 g small calamari tubes and tentacles, thawed and cleaned
1 tsp (5 ml) salt
12 calamata olives, pitted and halved
1 t (5ml) fresh paprika
2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
5 sprigs fresh thyme, leaves stripped from stalks
a small red chilli, deseeded and very finely diced
200 ml fruity olive oil
the finely grated zest of a lemon
the juice of two lemons
salt and milled black pepper
a handful of chopped fresh parsley

Rinse the calamari under cold water. Slice the tubes into slender rings. Fill a large pot with water, add the salt and bring to a rolling ball. Throw in all the calamari rings and cook for exactly one minute. Fish the rings out, using a slotted spoon, and place in a colander to drain. Now do the same with the tentacles, but cook them for a minute and a half.  Drain.  Place the calamari in a dish and add all the remaining ingredients, except for the parsley. Toss well, and place in the fridge for at least three hours for the flavours to mingle. Add the chopped parsley just before serving. Serve with brown bread and butter.

Serves 4 as a starter. Print Friendly

Black Fruit Salad with Figs and Brown-Sugar Crème Fraîche

Figs are in high season in the Cape now, and my goodness they are luscious things. We had a fig tree in our garden when we were children, and every time I taste a fresh fig I'm reminded of standing under that tree inhaling the musky perfume of sun-warmed green figs and marvelling at the sticky white sap that welled from the stalks.

Actually, the figs of my childhood are not a patch on the beautiful figs in the shops now:  with their dusty purplish-black skins and gorgeous coral-coloured flesh, they look and taste just  irresistible. These dark figs are grown in the Paarl area, I believe, while the bulk of South Africa's fig crop comes from the Klein Karoo region.

Also in season in the Cape are blackberries, blueberries and table grapes, so I've combined them with figs to make this mysterious-looking black (well, mostly black) fruit salad.   The first time I made it (and photographed it) I left it undressed; the second time, I tossed it with a little lemon juice and icing sugar, which gave the fruit a lovely zingy gloss.

Mix the brown sugar with the cream just before you serve the salad, so it stays thick and retains a crunch: if you make it in advance the sugar will dissolve and liquefy the cream. Chill all the fruit before you make the salad.

Black Fruit Salad with Brown-Sugar Crème Fraîche

1 big bunch sweet black grapes, halved and deseeded
1 cup (250 ml) blackberries
1 cup (250 ml)blueberries
4 purple figs, quartered
1 Tbsp (15 ml) icing sugar
the juice of half a lemon
1 cup (250 ml) crème fraîche or mascarpone
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
2 Tbsp (30 ml) brown sugar

Combine the fruit in a bowl and stir in the icing sugar and lemon juice. Place in the fridge for 10 minutes. Just before you serve the salad, mix together the crème fraîche, vanilla and brown sugar. Divide the salad into four bowls and place a dollop of crème fraîche over each portion.

Serves 4.

Note: the redcurrants adorning this salad come straight from my deep freezer: they're locally grown redcurrants, which you can read about here.

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Lightly Curried Mussel Soup with Fresh Coriander

A quick, fragrant soup: plump mussels on the half shell simmered in a gently spiced, turmeric-yellow, winey liquor, enriched with a little coconut milk. I know wine and coconut milk are strange bedfellows, but they work well here.

Bowl by David Walters

Are you put off making this recipe because you can't buy  fresh mussels where you live? Please don't be: there is no need to use quivering live molluscs in this recipe.  Instead, buy a bag of good-quality frozen mussels-in-their-shells from your local supermarket or fishmonger, and use them with confidence. For this recipe, I use inexpensive frozen South African mussels, when I can find them.  If I can't,  I use imported New Zealand green-lipped mussels which are good, fat and flavoursome, and available in most big branches of Pick n' Pay. You can, of course, use fresh mussels, if you're lucky enough to have them to hand.

You do need a nice chicken or fish stock for this recipe. If you don't have any stock, or can't be bothered to make one from scratch, use some of the mussels you've bought to make a quickie stock: half an an hour before you make the soup, put 10 mussels (don't bother to thaw them) in a saucepan. Add half an onion, roughly sliced, a stalk of celery, a carrot snapped into thirds, a bay leaf, a few peppercorns and a sprig of parsley.  Cover with two cups of water and half a cup of white wine, bring to the boil and simmer  for 20 minutes. Strain into a clean jug, and discard the mussel shells, flesh and flavourings. Set aside.

You can use any mild curry powder in this soup, provided that you buy it spanking fresh. The chilli is entirely optional.

Lightly Curried Mussel Soup with Fresh Coriander

2 Tbsp (30 ml) vegetable oil
1 large onion, peeled and very finely chopped
6 curry leaves, fresh or dried
3 white cardamom pods, cracked
2 cloves fresh garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 green chilli, deseeded and finely chopped [optional]
2 tsp (10 ml) cumin
2 tsp (10 ml) medium-strength curry powder
1 tsp (5 ml) turmeric
3 Tbsp (45 ml) flour
½ cup (125 ml) white wine
1 cup (250 ml) chicken or fish stock (see note, above)
2 cups (500 ml) water
1 cup (250 ml) low-fat coconut milk
1 kg frozen mussels in their shells, or fresh mussels
salt and milled black pepper
the juice of a lemon
a handful of chopped fresh coriander

Heat the oil in a large saucepan and add the onions, curry leaves and cardamom. Cook over a brisk heat until the onions are golden brown. Drain off any excess oil. Stir in the garlic, chilli, cumin, curry powder and turmeric, and cook for a minute.

Now stir in the flour and cook for another minute. Add the wine and the stock, whisking well to prevent lumps forming.  Stir in the water and coconut milk and simmer gently for fifteen minutes, stirring occasionally.  Now tip all the frozen mussels into the soup, and bring gently up to the boil. Simmer for another minute or two, then turn off the heat. Add salt and pepper to taste, stir in the lemon juice and serve immediately, topped with fresh coriander.

Serves 4 Print Friendly