homemade flour tortillas

One thing I love about working from home is getting little bits and pieces of things done between writing sessions. In all honesty, it doesn't always work; mostly I get too excited/distracted by the little bits and pieces and everything goes out of whack and the day is ruined. So I try to get into the office most days. But sometimes - once in a while - I stay home and everything just works. I get to hang out with Quincy, get some washing done, eat a better lunch and everything on my work list gets crossed off. Those days make me feel like I'm really winning at life.

Tragically, today is not one of those days. But that's okay. I've written a little, nursed my slightly swollen throat with constant sips of ginger tea like the hypochondriac I have become, and I've made flour tortillas.

Homemade flour tortillas are both really easy to cook and significantly more delicious than the store-bought we typically find in Australia. They're fluffy, supple and even taste good cold - which is more than I can say for those snowy white discs in the plastic packaging (home very very late one night I ate one straight out of the pack and decided, even in my jolly state, that next time I wanted to taste a cold commercially-made tortilla I could just mix some flour with water to a smooth paste in a teacup and drink it).

To achieve that really nice crepe-like texture, you need to include some kind of fat. I will happily admit that these ones are made with lard, just as those you typically find in Mexico are. That super-white, greasy fat definitely produces the finest tortillas with the best kind of bubbling and flakiness. But I understand that cooking with animal fat is not for everyone. The good news is that you can easily swap the lard for an equal amount of vegetable shortening and get a really similar result. And yes, you can make tortillas with olive oil and even butter; I have and they can also be very tasty, but you'll get a different result texturally and a less authentic flavour profile.

The other thing you can change up is the flour you use. Here I've used a combination of plain and atta flours and I really like the flavour this produces. The atta flour is also high in gluten and helps to produce a lovely smooth and elastic dough that is really easy to work with. So even if you're a homemade pastry or bread virgin, you can still make flour tortillas. It's kinda like getting to third base in the world of breadmaking: not as risky as a yeast-risen loaf (home-run), with an end result that's less reliant on experience - but still very, very sexy.*

And third base on a Tuesday afternoon is not too bad. There's days left yet to win at life.

*I do not necessarily agree with this analogy, but I don't have time to think it through.


Homemade flour tortillas
Makes 12


1 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup hot water
1 3/4 cup of plain (all-purpose) flour
1 cup atta flour (or wholemeal, or more plain)
75 g lard, roughly chopped (or vegetable shortening)

1. Add hot water and salt to a small bowl and stir to dissolve salt. Set aside.

2. In a large bowl, gently whisk the plain and atta flours with a fork to combine. Add the lard or shortening and, using the tips of your fingers, rub the fat and flours together until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.

3. Add 3/4 of the salted water and use a fork to combine. Continue to add as much water as necessary to bring the mixture together in a stiff dough; different flours will have different absorbencies. Use your hands to draw the mixture together in a ball and knead lightly on the counter until the dough is uniform and smooth - 3 - 5 minutes. Cut dough into 12 equal pieces and cover with plastic wrap. Leave to rest 30 minutes. This will relax the gluten in the dough and make it easier to work with.

4. To roll tortillas, very lightly dust the counter top and rolling pin with flour. Roll each ball until about the thickness of poster paper, or just before it becomes translucent. Stack tortillas on top of one another while you continue to roll.

5. To cook, heat a heavy based frying pan to medium heat. When it is hot, add the tortillas one at a time, for around 30 seconds each side. They will bubble up and brown in parts. Don't leave them in the pan too long, as they can dry out and become crispy instead of pliable. As you cook, keep the stack of cooked tortillas covered with a clean tea towel, doubled over, to keep them warm and soft. When cool, they store well in the fridge for about a week when wrapped.

frijoles negros, or everyday black beans

I think if you're going to eat something everyday - or quite often, it should be made from the kind of recipe that serves you well every time. I have a bunch of these recipes scrawled out on the back of envelopes and receipts poking out of books and stuck to the fridge; there's my version of Molly's banana bread, the flour/yeast/water ratios for Jim Lahey's no-knead bread and a splotched crinkly print-out of the recipe for classic zucchini slice. One of the other things I make every couple of weeks is a big pot of frijoles negros, or basic black beans soaked and simmered with a dried chipotle chile until inky and creamy and totally delicious. At a Mexican-themed BBQ I had last weekend where I served them alongside charcoal-grilled achiote chicken, pico de gallo, mango salsa, salmon, apple and ginger ceviche, corn tortillas and mint caramel flan, the recipe for black beans was the one people asked for.


But this is a recipe that doesn't exist on any of those bits of paper, actually. It's just a preparation I made up, liked and stuck to - a "recipe" that before now, I've never thought much about. I fell in love with the creamy, rich texture of black beans in Mexico and they've been on high rotation in my repertoire since I got my hands on a source for the dried beans back here in Melbourne. I just soak a couple of cupfuls of beans, then rinse and throw them into my cast iron pot, covered with plenty of cold water. I throw in a peeled garlic clove or two, a peeled whole onion and a dried chipotle chile, bring to the boil and then let the whole lot simmer away until it becomes a thick and dark magic brew that smells wholesome and smoky.

The beans can then be used for a million different things. You can serve them on nachos, or alongside sausages. You can use them, with salsa and queso fresco, to fill vegetarian tacos or empanadas. You can moosh them up, add some stock and serve with crema for a satisfying black bean soup. You could puree them into refried beans and serve as a dip with tostadas, alongside eggs for a traditional Mexican breakfast, or use a thick layer as an additional filling for Sunday morning hangover quesadillas. Or even better - and Aussies might have to trust me on this - you can serve them hot, spooned over the top of a plate of freshly cooked rice, garnished with coriander, chipotle crema, chunks of avocado, hot sauce and lime. It's my most favourite cheap, warming, filling comfort meal, but not something you hear much about down here in OZ.


While there's not exactly a recipe here for these babies, there are some things you should you know about cooking black beans that might help if you've never prepared them before:

1. Dried beans are better than canned. TRUE. I don't care what Jamie Oliver says - I can't afford imported canned black beans (at $5 a pop) and they're nowhere near as good as those you soak and simmer yourself. It may take some forethought, but it certainly doesn't take much time to soak beans while you sleep and to throw them in a pot to simmer for a few hours on a Saturday morning. Save dollars, food miles and packaging - and get compliments from everyone.

2.Good-quality, freshest dried beans are MUY IMPORTANTE, amigo. Black beans are a little hard to come by in Melbourne anyway, but those sold at Casa Iberica in Fitzroy are really worth the trip. Woolworths now sells black turtle beans under their 'Macro' label in the health food aisle; these are ok, but you just won't achieve the creaminess and flavour you're really after.

3. Don't throw salt into that water! At least not for the first hour or so. Word on the street is that this makes them tough as little stones (though I've heard contradictory theories too). I've always seasoned later and never had a problem with tough beans, so I'm sticking to this rule. Salt some after an hour or so of cooking and adjust as necessary when they're done.

4. Flavour as you like. I throw in a dried chipotle chile (also available at Casa Iberica or online here) to infuse the whole pot with a smoky, subtle heat that doesn't interfere too much with the different dishes I add my beans to. But throw in whatever you like; fresh bay leaves, ground coriander or a chunk of smoky bacon.

5. Skim that scum. Shortly after your beans come to the boil, a frothy scum often rises to the surface. You want to skim this off with a big spoon so that the texture and flavour of your beans and their liquid really sing. Once you turn down to simmer, check for more scum every so often and remove as necessary.

6. Add more water as needed and don't let the beans dry out. By the time the beans are tender and creamy, the water will have transformed into a thick black-purple sauce - you want to make sure there's enough of this. If you intend to puree or mash the beans, you may want a even little more liquid.

7. Taste! Cooking time depends on how long you soak and how fresh your beans are. These ones took just under two hours after an overnight soak, but there's only one way to find out if yours are done...

Braised Pork with Prunes

I've been so busy lately that I haven't even had time to tell you about this:


To be fair (on me), I have been busy organising this conference for the past few weeks. But now that the B for BAD dust has settled there's no excuse to not get on with things in the kitchen. In fact, I've been dying to. Eating out lots - something that invariably happens when one is very busy - always takes its toll on me. I can do it for a couple of days in a row, but then the effects of what must be so much more oil and sugar and salt in (even good) restaurant food start to kick in and I feel sluggish. Or maybe it's just that I can't help but order the duck every time. In any case, I need home-cookin' real bad.

Braised Pork with Prunes was the first recipe I tried from the 2009 reissue of Delia Smiths's Frugal Food (originally published 1976) and we've made it a number of times since already. The frugal thing is really a bonus; what makes me just about stamp my feet in excitement is how awesomely British the food is. I haven't got around to the Kipper Quiche or the Spiced Apple Shortcake yet, but you can bet I will. It is food that reminds a bit of my Australian grandmother, Mavis. It is British food before Jamie Oliver, but before the proliferation of take-away, too.


Despite the less-than-inspiring photographs this week, I promise that this is delicious - especially if you're the kind of person that usually orders the duck. It is sweet and sticky and rich and is a complete meal made entirely in one pot (not including the pan from the celeriac puree we served it with). And it is gold for those that love that heavenly coupling of dried fruit sweetness and slow-roasted meat. Gold. I've only changed the order in which things are done to minimise washing up - otherwise the recipe is entirely Delia's. Enjoy.

Braised Pork with Prunes
From Delia's Frugal Food. Serves 4

700g lean (or trimmed) belly pork or spare ribs, cut into cubes or pieces
1 tbsp olive oil
6 juniper berries, crushed
1/2 tsp fresh thyme, chopped (you could use dried)
225g brown onions, peeled and sliced
1 clove garlic, crushed
110g prunes, halved and pitted
1 large Granny Smith (or other cooking) apple, peeled, cored and sliced
A large pinch of caster sugar
700g potatoes, peeled and thickly sliced
Small knob of butter
150ml dry cider or white wine
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 170°C/325°F.

Heat oil in an oven-proof casserole over medium heat and fry onion and garlic until softened. Remove and set aside. Fry pork pieces in same pot until browned. After arranging them fairly evenly, season and sprinkle over the juniper berries and thyme. Layer in the onions and tuck in the prune pieces here and there. Arrange the apple slices over this and sprinkle them ever so lightly with the caster sugar. Next layer over potato slices, overlapping and season. Dot butter here and there over potatoes and pour in the cider or wine. Cover and cook in oven for 1.5 hours. When cooking time is done, increase heat to 220°C/450°F and remove the lid from your pot. Pop back into the oven for around 20 minutes until everything looks delicious and golden. Voila.

Soft White Dinner Rolls

Finally things are getting back to normal around here after a few weeks of (what must have been) alien interference with our electrical appliances. What have I been doing all this time without my computer (and my hairdryer)? Why, I've been baking, of course!


I feel like a bit of a phony admitting this, but I'm pretty crap at making bread. Which is so sad! Especially when, one Autumn afternoon, you cook up a big pot of sweet butternut pumpkin soup and realise that nothing would go better with a big bowl than a warm, freshly baked dinner roll.

Funny, right? I mean: 'dinner roll'. I hadn't thought about them in years until we had lunch the other week at our wonderful local French restaurant Libertine and they served up the tiniest, most dense and delicious warm dinner rolls (with real French butter) and I remembered how great those little rolls could be. So elegant! And then I remembered a clipping I'd clipped many moons ago in which Nigella Lawson gave instructions for an easy milk-bread dinner roll that she promised anyone could make. And yes, my friends, I can confirm that anyone can make these delicious little...dinner rolls.


Okay, so I just like saying that. Dinner rolls. But really, these are wonderful - like something a country town bakery might make. Soft and super-white and torn open while still warm, all they need is a scrape of butter to become perfect. If you've got any left later on, they're brilliant with jam for breakfast. And if you've still got some left, you can freeze them to whip out at a moment's notice when friends drop by. And then you can show off because, yes - you baked your own bread.

Soft White Dinner Rolls
From Delicious. magazine

31/2 cups plain flour, plus extra for dusting
3 tsp dried instant yeast
1 tbs caster sugar
11/2 cups milk
25g unsalted butter

For topping:
1 egg, beaten
1 tbs milk
1 tbs sesame seeds

Combine flour with yeast, sugar and 1 tbsp of salt in a large mixing bowl.

Warm milk and butter over medium heat until butter begins to melt (around 2 minutes). Pour butter and milk mixture into dry ingredients and mix with a fork to make a rough dough. If it seems too sticky, add a little more flour. Using a machine with a dough hook or your hands, knead with until the dough is smooth and silky. This should take around 5 minutes.

Put the ball of dough into a greased bowl and turn to coat.. Cover with plastic wrap and leave in a warm place to rise for around 1 hour or until doubled in size.

Grease a baking sheet. Punch down the dough and turn out onto a floured surface. Pull off golf-ball sized pieces of dough and form into little balls, forming them into five rows of six rolls. Place them around 5mm apart on all sides to ensure that they meet once risen. Cover the rolls with a tea towel and leave to rise for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 225 C.

When rolls have re-puffed, beat together egg, milk and a pinch of salt to make the glaze. Brush the rolls tops with this mixture and sprinkle tops with sesame seeds (or poppy, if you're so inclined). Bake the rolls for around 15 minutes until they are golden brown. Serve immediately or transfer to a wire rack to cool.

To freeze rolls (best done same day of baking) cool, double-wrap with cling film and pop into freezer.