Lemon and thyme divine

Transcendent

Lemon and thyme lamb; an amazing throwback to my childhood

Transcendent

Lemon and thyme cake; the twist of thyme gives this citrusy delight a kick

Lemon and thyme divine

As a child growing up, the rule in our house was, on your birthday, you got to pick the meal for dinner that night. I usually picked one of two things; either my mum's lasagne, or lemon and thyme lamb.

 

My mum's 30-yr old recipe card

Lemon and thyme lamb is a favourite. I've got a picture of my mum's recipe card for it; the recipe card must be 30 years old and is from the Australian Meat and Livestock Corporation. When I moved out of home 15 years ago, I photocopied a bunch of my mum's recipes - ones I'd loved my mum making as I grew up - and they formed the basis for what is now the seven volumes of recipe scrapbooks I have in my kitchen.

But since Emperor D is not a fan of lamb, I never get to make it. Until recently. On a spur of the moment decision, we headed home to Australia for Christmas. I returned to Europe before New Year, but D stayed on until late January, leaving me home alone for a few weeks - and free to cook what I pleased.

With the weather cold and wintry, I spent one morning on the couch flicking through my recipe volumes, searching for inspiration. I came across lemon and thyme and lamb and was suddenly struck with making it; I hadn't had it - either made for me or making it myself - for years. I invited a friend over, Sophia, who being Greek, appreciates the combination of lamb and lemon. But having it with thyme - instead of the usual Greek combination with rosemary - was something new for her.

 

Lemon and thyme lamb

Throwing together the onion and lots of garlic, the lemon and thyme is added with cubes of diced lamb and white wine, then left to either bake or gently simmer on the stove for 1.5 hours. I chose to put it all into my faithful bright blue Le Creuset cast iron casserole pot, throw it in the oven, and allow it to slowly cook away.

Pulling it out of the oven and lifting off the lid, the delicious aroma of lemon, garlic and lamb hits my nose. Served simply with white rice, the first bite takes me back to my 11th birthday, May 1991. The lamb is melt-in-your-mouth tender, and together with the combination of the citrusy lemon, slightly minty/peppery thyme and garlic, it just works. There’s the zing from the lemon, which I love, but which is slightly tempered by the thyme and the strong flavour of lamb. Love it.

Lemon and thyme cake

It’s strange to have two key flavours represented in both a savoury main and a dessert like a cake. But I found a recipe for lemon and thyme cake recently that I thought I’d try. It’s a twist on a simple lemon cake, with the thyme giving a delicate kick.

Easy to make, it’s simply butter and sugar creamed together, plus eggs, lemon zest, a small amount of thyme leaves, flour, and almond meal – which makes it light. What makes it super moist – and delicious – is a syrup of lemon juice, sugar and thyme leaves that is poured into skewered holes of the hot cake as it comes from the oven.

I’ve made this a couple of times now and it’s a winner with everyone. The moist, light cake is packed with the flavour of citrusy, tangy lemons, offset by the sweetness of the sugar and given a slight uplift with the thyme. Served with my favourite Gruyère double cream (bliss!), it’s the perfect tea time treat.

Savoury or sweet, two recipes prove that, together, lemon and thyme are divine. 

 

Oh Jerusalem

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Not quite flawless food, but not too far off

Oh Jerusalem

I recently joined a group of like-wise foodie-minded expats in a small cooking club. Think of it as a book club - mind, there are actually books involved, since a cook book is chosen - but with the addition of good food. Before we meet, one person chooses a cook book from their collection, and the rest choose a recipe. We all meet, cook our chosen recipes, share the dishes and then discuss what we liked, or didn't like, what we thought of the recipe we chose and the book over all.

Selection of amazing food from Jerusalem 

For the first meeting, my friends Janet and Maya chose Jerusalem by Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi. It's an amazing book, a feast of Jewish, Arabic, Mediterranean and Middle-East cuisine. Among the food chosen was lamb meatballs with barberries, yoghurt and herbs; felafel; chard with tahini, yoghurt and buttered pine nuts; beef meatballs with fava beans and lemon; and clementine and almond syrup cake. The dishes chosen were absolutely incredible; gorgeous food.

I chose roasted chicken with Jerusalem artichoke and lemon. It was incredibly easy. Other than simmering Jerusalem artichokes - which I'd never even seen before, I admit, let alone tried - it was chucking everything in a bowl, marinating it overnight and then roasting it.

Roast chicken with Jerusalem artichoke and lemon

I really liked this - the tender chicken, the lemon, pink peppercorns, shallots, garlic, thyme and tarragon all worked well. The Jerusalem artichoke though I wasn't sold on. Not sure why - maybe it was because I wasn't sure what to expect, but I found the flavour a little too bitter for the rest of the recipe. This dish as a whole though was delicious and was a nice contrast to the other, more meatier, heartier dishes on the table. Having said that, the jury is still out on the Jerusalem artichoke; I'd need to make this again before I could decide whether it belongs in the dish.

When chocolate’s not an option

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Lemony-coconut makes a great, tropical substitution for chocolate

When chocolate’s not an option

Many of you will know from previous cakes I’ve blogged about that my office has a birthday cake tradition; someone in the office has a birthday, someone else makes a cake and we all spring out from behind our desks at some point during the day, thrusting cake with lit candles underneath the embarrassed, but inevitably unsurprised, person’s nose, half-heartedly singing an out of time and out of tune rendition of Happy Birthday. Bad singing over, candles blown out and cake cut, we stand around together for 10 or 15 minutes discussing the cake – home made, of course (no-one dares dreams of doing a shop-bought job these days) – and anything else not related to work.

Incidentally, it was my birthday the first year I joined the office, that was somehow the catalyst for the compulsory birthday cake. I’m not sure why it came about, but I still remember the first cake made by my friend and colleague Julia, a chocolate concoction with Toblerone chocolate pieces and icing sugar dusted over it, to signify the Alps. I was touched. Not surprised though, because although Julia had hid the cake around the corner from my desk, she blew it by posting it to Facebook and tagging me in the photo five minutes before they actually gave it to me. Still, I remember it being rich and chocolatey.

Fast forward two and a half years, and there’s been good cakes and bad ones, but everyone gets a cake for their birthday and the baking load is shared by most of the office. But since the first chocolate cake for my birthday, we’ve had to change tack and try not to have cakes with chocolate in them as one of my friends and colleagues, Amelia, is allergic to it. How anyone could be allergic to chocolate and still be as calm, rational, friendly and funny as she always is, defies logic. Because of her allergy, Amelia’s birthday or not, chocolate cake is out. It’s been hard.

But also rewarding. Chocolate cake is the natural default one for birthday cakes, but the no chocolate rule has broadened the flavour horizons. Teri, a good friend and colleague of mine, had her birthday approaching and I put my hand up to bake it. Searching through my multitude of recipe volumes and books, anything chocolate or with chocolate in it was instantly vetoed. Amongst my own collection, the amount of non-chocolate recipes was decidedly small.

One stood out, however. Lemon and coconut cake was something I found on goodfood.com.au, through the Fairfax Australian news sites, a website I’ve increasingly turned to for inspiration. And it was an inspired choice, given lemon is one of Teri’s favourite flavours, so not only was it something that suited the taste of the person whose birthday it was, its non-chocolate status meant it was a winner for Amelia as well. It was easy to make, always a plus on a school night - a simple place all the ingredients into a bowl and mix with a wooden spoon - and the cake itself was light, moist and packed full of lemon punch. The icing – while made in a strange way – was the perfect balance between the sweet icing sugar and a fair amount of tart lemon juice. I think I would've preferred a butter cream icing, but the taste really did complete the taste of a cake that had a fair amount sweetness balanced by zing.

In the end, having to think about flavours other than chocolate has been inspiring and refreshing. Although I'm still partial to the good old chocolate cake, and will go on making them when possible, exploring new flavours can open up your tastebuds to a whole new world they may not previously have encountered. And that's no bad thing.

The impossible made possible

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Super easy - not impossible - quiche makes for a tasty meal


The impossible made possible
 
Awhile back - and yes, it has been awhile given my tendency not to cook and post during summer - I hit upon the need to broaden the repertoire a bit and find a recipe that was easy enough, with few, uncomplicated ingredients, to do on a lazy Sunday or during the week.

I seem to have more recipes now - in cook books, in my own collection - than I'd ever be able to make, but that doesn't stop me from getting ideas for new things to try from Taste.com.au. It was while reading the email that drops into my inbox from Taste that I saw the recipe for impossible quiche.

Impossible quiche is one of those recipes that seems to hark back to the 70s and 80s - the daggy type of thing your mother would make. In fact, I think my mum did have a recipe for impossible quiche when I was growing up, but I don't ever remember eating it, fussy child that I was. For me, eggs stopped and started with scrambled eggs on toast.

Impossible quiche al fresco

So coming across this recipe, I was curious enough to give it a try. It was easy enough; mix dry ingredients of chopped ham, grated cheddar, flour, baking powder and onion - spread over base of shallow pie dish - and pour beaten egg and milk over the top.

The quiche sorts itself out while baking. The flour and baking powder form a thin crust on the bottom, while the cheese melts, ham cooks and eggs and milk becomes light and fluffy.

The result? A simple, easy-to-make, tasty quiche, that is light enough for a summer dinner or a picnic. In fact, I did make it for a picnic over summer and the whole thing was polished off in minutes. Which just goes to show the impossible is possible...

Cooking for one made easy with Nigellissima

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Super easy, super quick and tasty cheat's risotto takes the pain out of cooking for one

Cooking for one made easy with Nigellissima

Welcome to 2013! It's winter again in Switzerland - my favourite time of year, food-wise. But I have had a burst of summer - I spent the last couple of weeks in warmer climes, spending a week in Hong Kong, before heading home to Perth, for the first time in nearly 18 months, just before Christmas. I spent two weeks at home, catching up with family and friends and remembering just how hot Perth gets - it was 41C on Christmas Day.

Having left an empty house in Perth all this time, the Emperor and I decided it was time to clean it out and rent it out. But two weeks isn't enough time to deal with ten years' worth of accumulated possessions, so leaving Emperor D behind to sort the rest of the house out, and with work back in Switzerland calling, I headed back a week into the new year. Where I've been, ever since, arriving home, often late at night, to a dark and empty apartment and having to cook for myself.

Eighteen months ago I discovered my distaste for having to cook for one. That was during summer; I confess it doesn't get much better in winter. At least I can make soup during winter, which is easy enough to freeze for another night. And pasta is easy to make in quantities for one. But I never thought I'd say this - since it's my favourite food group - but during the week, I got heartily sick of pasta. To the point where I put fish fingers and chips in the oven for dinner one night. Oh dear. Confessions of a food blogger.

Nevertheless, this recipe is a pasta dish that's masquerading as a risotto. But it's super quick. And super easy. And no problem to make for one. It's Nigella Lawson's pasta risotto with peas and pancetta from her latest, the Italian-inspired Nigellissima.

I've always enjoyed watching Nigella on TV, but never really cooked her food because it always seemed, well, rather trashy. I paid a little more attention to this series though as it does fall somewhat under my favourite cuisine, Italian. While she does include some trashy recipes - like this meatzza (seriously) - she does have some gems like the pasta risotto.

The pasta risotto is basically a pea and pancetta risotto, but substitutes annoying, you-have-to-stir-it-all-the-time arborio or carnaroli rice for risoni, a tiny, rice-shaped pasta that doesn't require stirring and cooks in just 10 minutes. Much quicker than the 25 minutes or longer that ordinary risotto takes. Adding a small knob of butter and some grated parmasean at the end - as you would normal risotto - gives this dish it's risotto-like creamy consistency. It tastes good, too - the salty pancetta offsets the sweet baby peas. Best of all, it takes about 15 minutes to make from go to whoa, and can be made in small quantities - including for someone eating da solo.

I still don't like cooking for one - and will be heartily glad when Emperor D returns in a few days' time - but Nigella's risotto-that-isn't does make it a little less painful.
 

Pumpkin perfection

Pumpkin perfection

Transcendent  
Creamy - but without the cream - butternut pumpkin soup is a winner

So we're back into my favourite time of year - autumn and winter - and with it, comes my favourite type of food - comfort food. Perfect pastas, brilliant braises, steaming soups.

Soups are one of my most favourite things to cook and eat. They're so easy to make, yet can be as simple or as decadent as you like. They can be clean, nourishing and light - like chicken noodle soup - or they can be dense and knock your socks off, fending off any would-be cold - like my spicy barley and lentil soup.

I've written before that there's a few things you can't get in Switzerland. But I was pleasantly surprised when the shops started stocking butternut pumpkin a few weeks ago. (Which, I must add, I was shocked to discover that butternut pumpkin - as it's called in Australia - is not actually a pumpkin at all, but rather a squash.) Picking one up, I suddenly had a craving for butternut pumpkin soup.

Perfect pumpkin creaminess

I had plenty of recipes amongst my recipe books and volumes, but none really suited what I wanted; a rich, smooth soup, easy to make, creamy - but without the cream. I've never been a big fan of cream in anything, but especially in soups. However I found the perfect recipe - pumpkin and chive soup. This recipe uses potatoes - the starch of which provides the smooth creaminess - a tiny bit of sour cream - for depth of flavour - and a sprinkling of chives - for a hint of crunch.

After sautéing onion and garlic, and then simmering peeled and cut potatoes and pumpkin in chicken stock (add veg stock to make this vegetarian-friendly), it's time to break out the equipment and whiz it all up in a food processor, in batches, to a super smooth, creamy consistency. Season with salt and pepper, add sour cream and finely chopped chives - and voila - pumpkin soup perfection. 

Peel, chop, simmer, whiz, stir - very easy to make. Sweet pumpkin taste, balanced by starchy potatoes and dense sour cream - very tasty. On a cold, wintry night, what else could you ask for?

Harissa in a hurry

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What more can I ask for than something that’s quick, easy and tasty?

Harissa in a hurry

At last! I get to debut the new camera! For those who missed it, I bought a new Panasonic Lumix G2 camera. It’s kind of like a small DSLR. It’s pretty cool, although I have no idea on how to use even half the functions on it, but that will come with using it and reading about it a bit, which I’ve done a little of already. Unfortunately though, I’ve only got the one photo to show of Harissa chicken with lentil mash – it was dinner one night during last week and I was kind of in a hurry.

Harissa chicken with lentil mash

This dish has only very recently made it into my mid-week dinner repertoire. I found it in the Winter issue of Donna Hay Magazine, tried it, and we both really liked it. Actually, I first made this not long after starting my blog, and Emperor D suggested even then that I should post about it. It’s very easy and very quick to make and very tasty to eat. The chicken breast – use free range please, if you can! – is simply tossed in some olive oil, sea salt and black pepper, plus some harissa, which is a spice paste from North Africa, especially Tunisia. You can buy it in gourmet shops and good supermarkets, but there’s loads of recipes out there if you need to make it. A quick search turned up this one, which looks very easy, but I’ve got no idea how authentic it would be.

The great thing about this recipe is that it can be thrown together in the time it takes to boil and mash potatoes. The lentils are a nice touch when they’re mixed with the mash. I think lentils are a seriously underrated and under-used ingredient in Australian households; they’re so easy to cook with (especially the tinned variety) and very healthy too.

The spiciness of the harissa provides a nice contrast with the starchy potatoes; quick, tasty and healthy for a mid-week dinner.