Kρητικός ντάκος, or how to eat Cretan barley rusks

Now that summer is officially here, there's the chance you'll find some tomatoes that actually taste the way tomatoes should. I'd be lying if I told you I've ever tasted a tomato here in Australia that comes close to the ones we eat in Greece; there's something about the Mediterranean sun that works magic on the fruit, because they're always sweeter and more fragrant than tomatoes here - and very often they're meatier with less water. But if you're growing your own or happen upon some at the farmer's market that have that intoxicating smell (you do sniff tomatoes before you buy them, right?), this is a beautiful way of eating them.

Dakos is a particular type of paximádi (dried bread or rusk) and is a speciality of the island of Crete. While paximádi are eaten all over Greece, dakos are particular in that they're made with stone-ground barley, imparting a rich nutty flavour and giving the rusks an addictive robust texture. The rusks are twice-baked until very, very dry and need to be rehydrated with sprinkles of water and then brought to life by the sweet spicyness of tomato juices and fresh olive oil soaking through. You might be surprised by how good this simple combination is, unadorned - but if you want to take these to the next level (of course you do), crumble on a creamy feta or chevre and a sprinkle of Greek oregano. So simple, but really a magical combination that becomes more than the sum of its parts. If you're in the mood for garlic and don't have a date that night, add a little - very finely minced - to make it a little more punchy.

You can buy Cretan rusks at most good Greek delis; they usually come packaged in plastic or cellophane bags. My favourite are Manna brand ("Το Μάννα") and have a green and white printed label, but ask the staff as there's often quite a number to choose from and more seem to be imported all the time. Wetting the rusks might seem a strange thing to do, but what you end up with is never soggy - only pleasantly toothsome and porous enough to soak up all the flavours you pile on top. Don't try to eat them dry, as you'll seriously risk losing teeth. Kinda like the time Richie and Eddie ate the Special K past its sell-by. Watch and learn, kiddies.

Dakos - and rusks generally - are very good for tossing into salads and are perfect for brown bag lunches. I often cut a salad in the morning then rehydrate the rusks 15 minutes before lunch. When they're soft enough, I break them up and stir them through the rest of the salad before adding my dressing. If summer lunches have to be eaten at work, this is a fine way to improve the day. At home though, I prepare them as below.

Kρητικός ντάκος/Cretan barley rusks with tomato
Makes 1

1 paximádi/rusk
1 ripe tomato, skinned, very finely chopped or grated
your best extra virgin olive oil
salt
a couple of slivers of garlic, finely minced (optional)
a sprig of fresh Greek oregano or a couple of fresh basil leaves (finely sliced)
dried Greek oregano
crumbled creamy feta or goat cheese, to taste


1. To rehydrate the rusk, run it under a running faucet, rubbing it all over so that it seems quite wet. You can also submerge rusks in a bowl of water for half a minute or so. Set aside to drain and soak through.

2. In a smal bowl, combine tomato, fresh oregano or basil leaves, garlic (if using), salt to taste and a generous glug of olive oil. Stir and set aside for 10 minutes so that the flavours combine.

3. Some people like their rusks more wet, other more crunchy - you decide. I feel mine's ready when it has a little give but doesn't leak water when I press into it. Top the rusk with the tomato mixture, add the cheese and rub the dried oregano between your fingers as you sprinkle it on top, to release its flavour.

What is فريكة‎ ? Why, it's freekeh. What is freekeh?

Today I'm stuck on the couch with a cold, but instead of watching Dr Phil and Oprah, I thought I'd use the time to geek out over my latest grain obsession, freekeh. Maybe everyone out there already knows about this magical, nutty stuff? But after I was introduced to it at Hellenic Republic in the salad you'll find below, I went looking for it - and many didn't even know who my little friend was, let alone where to find him! So just in case you haven't met, let me introduce you to freekeh.


In case you couldn't tell from the title of this post, freekeh is a grain used mostly in Arabic cooking and it's actually green wheat that has been sun dried, roasted and then rubbed, or thrashed - a process that (somehow?) gives the grain a uniform appearance and a very special flavour that is both nutty and smokey. It's so tasty that you can eat it on its own (with a little olive oil and maybe some yogurt?), but it's used in stuffings, pilafs, salads and a host of other preparations. Some types are cracked into smaller bits, others are left whole - the one I use at home is a whole grain type.

Not only does is it delicious, but is a nutritional powerhouse. Because it is harvested young, it retains more fiber, protein and vitamins. It's low in fat and low GI and even if it wasn't, I'd eat it anyway. It's the bomb. To prepare it, you need only to boil it until tender. The whole grain variety I use takes about 30 minutes to reach tender but with some bite (how I like it), but if you have the cracked grain, cooking time will be considerably less. Once it's ready, you should try it in this salad:


This is George Calombaris' Cypriot Grain Salad, and I first ate it at Hellenic Republic a few months ago with the rest of the Kannas clan. I'd visited HR before and the food had always been good, but the stars must have been aligned that night because we ate a truly glorious meal of slow-cooked lamb, cabbage salad, chargrilled octopus, saganaki with figs and this unforgettable salad. As soon as I got home I googled it and thanked the lord for the TV chef phenomenon, because I instantly had the recipe. Not that you really need one; it's really just a great idea that you can play with in all different ways. The freekeh, along with some just-tender puy lentils, form the bulk of the salad. This is seasoned with briny baby capers, sweet currants, chopped red onion and plenty of chopped parsley and coriander. Then you add crunch: toast a bunch of slivered almonds, pumpkin seeds and pine nuts until golden and throw them in. Bring the whole lot together with great olive oil and the juice of a lemon and top with a cumin-spiked yogurt that hides just a smidgen of Greek honey. In each bite, there's a bunch of different things happening, but all the flavours are at the same party and, baby, it's a good one.

When we ate it at Hellenic Republic it was topped with fresh pomegranate seeds and they were perfect: little jewels bursting with sweet sour juice that explode into the rest of the flavours when you bite in. Sadly, I couldn't find any this week, so I topped the yogurt here with a dollop of pomegranate molasses, to remind me of that first taste. I served alongside some quickly fried slices of spicy Greek loukanika (leek and pork sausage). It was good. I hope you think so too.

Cypriot Grain Salad
Adapted from George Camlombaris' recipe, published on ten.com.au

Notes: Freekeh is available at Middle Eastern grocery stores and some health food shops. The one I buy is produced in Lebanon and sold at Hassoun's Coffee, 384 Gilbert Road, Preston. An aside: this store is so ace I can't believe I'm publishing the address on the internets. Click here for more information about Australian freekeh. Serves 6 as a side dish. This salad keeps really well for a couple of days, so makes a great brown bag lunch dish.

1 cup freekah (or cracked wheat)
½ cup puy lentils
1 bunch coriander shredded
½ bunch parsley shredded
½ red onion finely diced
2 tbsp baby capers
½ cup currants
2 tbsp pumpkin seeds
2 tbsp slivered almonds
2 tbsp pine nuts
Juice of 1 lemon
3 tbsp extra virgin olive
Sea salt to taste
½ cup thick Greek yoghurt
½ tsp cumin seeds toasted and ground
½ tbsp honey
fresh pomegranate seeds, or molasses to taste

1. Cook freekeh and lentils separately until just tender. Drain and set aside to cool.

2. Meanwhile, add coriander, parsley, onion, capers and currants to a large bowl.

3. Toast pumpkin seeds, almonds and pine nuts until golden, being careful not to burn. Add to bowl.

4. Add drained and cooled lentils and freekeh and stir gently to combine. Add sea salt, lemon juice and olive oil and continue to stir gently until the salad looks nicely dressed.

5. For yogurt topping, stir cumin and honey into yogurt. Top salad with yogurt and pomegranate seeds or molasses, if using.

homemade bronx-worthy bagels

The first thing I wanted to eat once I'd finished the food lover's cleanse was bread. Specifically, bagels. I don't know why. But I'm glad, because it meant that I could try make some.


Try? Pfft. These were wonderful. I take no credit, though. I've been meaning to try these ever since Deb posted the recipe on Smitten Kitchen with photographs that almost bowled me over. Golden. Plump. Chewy. Fresh. I bookmarked them right away.


Growing up in Melbourne's north, a poor little Greek girl might not know what a bagel even is. Sad, isn't it? I (poor little Greek girl) knew some wonderful bread, and I knew what kolouria were (but do you? patience is a virtue...), but, really, what's so good about a bagel? I knew that there were things called bagels that people ate in Hollywood films and on American television shows all the time. But no bagel I'd ever eaten here had struck me as the kind of thing you'd want to eat every day - until I crossed the river, that is. The year I did my honours degree, I worked in a fancy delicatessen owned by a Jewish family in Prahran. Every morning I had to get up at 6 am and travel across to the wrong side of town and bust my ass for 12 hours or so serving people with one billion times more money than me. But I learned a lot about food. And, for the first time, I ate a wonderful bagels. The bagels we got in at Steve's place were from Aviv bakery - and sometimes we got bagels from Glicks. When they arrived in the morning they were golden, tender and still warm, and you'd always have a hard time putting them out without putting one aside for lunch to have with chevre and top quality smoked salmon - even if you'd already brought lunch from home. I've missed those fresher than fresh morning bagels - they'd been one of my favourite breakfast treats. Until now. I'm telling you, these are better than any bagels I've ever had - and I made them. Myself. I was home alone when they first came out of the oven and had a feeling that they might be TOTALLY excellent, but I needed confirmation. I passed a bagful to a helpful friend who fed them to a business partner from NYC, who gave these bagels the thumbs up on appearance, texture and flavour. I felt validated. And then I ate another one.


Can you imagine serving these to people fresh out of the oven after a big night out for a restorative brunch? Or better: how about sneaking out of bed in the morning to slide a few of these into the oven to awaken your (new?) lover with the best-ever scent of bread baking? Putty in your hands, my friends. You need to start these a little bit in advance, but they're not difficult by any means. You need to budget enough time to make a sponge, then the dough. Then you need to retard the dough (yep!) overnight in the fridge. You'll boil them briefly in the morning then throw them in your very hot oven for around 5 minutes. Then the world will be your oyster. I'm going to link to this precious recipe, because a) it's not mine and b) it's too bloody long to type out. But there are a few changes I made that are listed below. Enjoy.

Peter Reinhart's Bagels at Smitten Kitchen: totally bronx-worthy

Changes I made and some tips:

1. I substituted half the whole amount of bread flour used for all-purpose flour, simply because I ran out of bread flour. I don't necessarily recommend this, but thought I should note that the bagels still turned out wonderful and could thus probably be made very successfully with all-purpose flour, if that's all you have on hand.

2. Malt syrup? I could have gone to the health food store to investigate, but I subbed in honey and it worked a treat.

3. I didn't bake these all at once: I kept some unboiled, unbaked bagels in the fridge and used them over 3 days. The final day morning was pushing it a bit - they turned out a little flat. But you can have them ready to go in the evening and just finish them off at breakfast time. So handy!

4. Size matters: Deb made mini bagels. The original recipe makes larger bagels. I made something in between. I can put my hand in the air and admit that I, too, am a geek: I weighed each bit of dough to make sure the bagels came out evenly sized. I made my dough balls/rolls around 3 1/4 ounces each and got 17 bagels from this batch.

5. My first batch looked more like donuts than bagels. This was because the time between boiling and baking was too long - and I mean about 5 minutes. Try to boil as many as you can in one go and get those babies in oven ASAP. The sooner the better. They'll retain their bagely shape more and look so good you'll want to beat them up.

6. I topped mine with sesame seeds because I LOVE sesame bagels. But I can't wait to try other flavours. I've had requests already for blueberry. God help me - and my waistline.

focaccia di patate

Have you guys seen this? I hadn't until yesterday, and now my life will never be the same.


I don't know what (besides procrastination) brought me to this recipe, because until now, I've never really been a fan of focaccia. I like the idea of it, but there are just so many bad ones around that taste like they've been around for a little too long... You know what I mean, right? Like their oiliness, which should be rich and pleasant, is always just, well, oily. I'm guessing poor quality oil is the problem with many of these commercially made focaccia. And what's with taking one of these, filling it with sun-dried tomatoes, avocado and cheese (a combination that really needs to be sent back in time to 1993, FOREVER) and squashing them into oblivion with a 3 tonne sandwich press? It's never as good as you want it to be, and stuffed with 'gourmet' ingredients it always costs more than you expect. RANT. But hey guess what? Focaccia is the absolute bomb, when you make it at home with a potato.




This is Luisa from The Wednesday Chef's recipe, first published at the beginning of 2008, and the bread is so good, that I'm jealous of all those people who've been making it since then. Is has a dense, chewy crumb and is moist and so delicious that you can eat it on its own; this is the marker of a wonderful bread. The magic element here is a mashed boiled potato (really!), which you add to the regular flour, water, yeast mix, enabling you to achieve a superb texture and perfect density. The dough comes together like a dream and needs minimal kneading, so it's great for new and/or hesitant bread makers. I've followed Luisa's example and topped mine with tomato and oregano, adding a brush of garlic oil to up the ante, but olives and rosemary or sliced potatoes and parmesan - or whatever you dream up - would be great too.


One more thing: you need to use good oil here - I don't mean top shelf at Enoteca Sileno, but something with enough flavour to make the bread really shine (visually and flavour-wise). Think about the fact that the flavour of the oil really comes through here. After all, if you wouldn't dip a bit of bread into a little bowl of balsamic and Criso blended vegetable oil, you probably shouldn't put that stuff into your bread, either.

Potato Focaccia
Makes one 8-inch focaccia
Adapted only slightly from The Wednesday Chef

1 medium floury potato
2 cups bread or plain flour, plus more as needed
1/2 tsp dried yeast or 1 tsp fresh yeast
A pinch of sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2/3 cup warm water
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 Roma tomatoes, sliced crossways
1 to 2 teaspoons dried oregano
Coarse or flaked sea salt

1. Put the potato in a small saucepan with enough water to cover. Place over high heat, covered, and bring to a boil. Add a handful of salt. Simmer until the potato is tender when pierced with a knife, around 20 - 25 minutes. Drain and let the potato/s it cool. When cool, peel and mash finely with a fork. Set aside.

2. Pour the yeast into a large mixing bowl and add the pinch of sugar. Slowly add the warm water in a thin stream, using a fork to help dissolve the yeast entirely. Let the mixture stand for a few minutes.

3. Add the flour to the yeast water and stir with your fork to incorporate, adding the mashed potato and the salt. The dough will be thick and shaggy as in the picture above - don't worry about this! When it is looking fairly even, add 2 tablespoons of the olive oil and knead the dough by hand, pressing against the side of the bowl, for around a minute, or until it is pretty smooth. It should come together pretty quickly. Add more flour if the dough is too sticky to handle. Form the dough into a ball and let it rest, covered with a kitchen towel, in the bowl for an hour.

4. Cut a piece of baking paper to fit the bottom of an 8-inch cake tin. Gently lift the soft dough from the bowl and place it in the cake in, patting it out so that it fits snugly. Cover the top of the focaccia with the tomato slices and sprinkle the oregano and a large pinch of coarse salt over, then drizzle with the remaining tablespoon of olive oil. Let the dough rest for another hour - it should puff up again nicely.

5. Halfway though the resting time, turn the oven on to preheat at 220 degrees. When resting is complete and oven ready, bake focaccia for 40 minutes, turning the pan halfway through. Let cool on a rack for 20 minutes before removing the focaccia from the pan - otherwise it may break.

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...

bánh mì and bánh gan, or pork meatball sandwich and coconut creme caramel

Friday nights I'm usually home-bound; I'm tired after a full week of working and writing and I just want to sit on the couch with a glass of wine, watch Masterchef and eat something that's half-treat, half-comfort. Lately, my Mum has been joining me for Friday night masterclass action and last Friday night we had a casual Vietnamese dinner of bánh mì and bánh gan - and it was awesome, as you can see.


First of all, how good are meatball sandwiches? When we were younger, my brother and I became obsessed with them watching Point Break (2001); here's the reason. Though to tell you truth, I don't think I'd ever had one - except for those Vietnamese rolls with those delicious (lukewarm) pork meatballs that are probably a bit dangerous, but are so, so good. I was always tempted to ask for only meatballs, but they seemed so special that I didn't think this was a possibility. Turns out that making them at home was the answer.

These meatballs have so much flavour that they're killer snacks just on their own. But encased in those super-light Vietnamese/French baguettes and garnished with sweet vinegary carrot and daikon pickles, hot chilli mayo and fresh sprigs of coriander, these are near on perfect.


But what to eat afterwards? We tried not to be piggies and had smaller rolls for dinner, but only so we could fit this in. In another culinary triumph of Vietnamese/French fusion, I bring you bánh gan, or the coconut creme caramel - so perfect after something spicy. Half the milk or cream of the regular flan is replaced here with coconut milk, resulting in a pudding that is silky and refreshing and not too sweet. I also swapped the brown sugar in the custard recipe here for grated palm sugar and was very glad I did: the sweetness was even more subtle and nuanced than I'd expected. And these two dishes went down so well together that now I find it hard to imagine making one and not the other. Oh oh...

Bánh mì - Vietnamese meatball sandwiches
Adpated from Bon Appétit Jan 2010

For the hot chilli mayonnaise:
2/3 cup mayonnaise
2 spring onions, finely chopped
1 tablespoon hot chilli sauce (I use sriracha)

For the meatballs:
500g pork mince
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh Thai basil (or regular basil)
4 garlic cloves, minced
3 spring onions, finely chopped
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 tablespoon sriracha or other hot chilli sauce
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons cornflour
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon salt

For the sandwiches:
1 cup julienned or coarsely grated carrots
1 cup julienned or coarsely grated peeled daikon (Japanese white radish)
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon sesame oil
4 10-inch-long baguettes (preferably from a Vietnamese bakery)
Thinly sliced jalapeño chiles
About 16 large fresh coriander sprigs

1. To make the hot chilli mayonnaise, stir all ingredients in small bowl. Season with salt. Cover and chill.

2. To make the meatballs: line a baking tray with plastic wrap. Gently mix all meatball ingredients in large bowl. Using moistened hands, roll scant tablespoons of the meat mixture into 1-inch meatballs. Arrange on baking sheet. Cover and chill.

3. For the rest of the sandwich, toss the first 5 ingredients in medium bowl to make the pickles. Let stand at room temperature 1 hour, tossing occasionally.

4. Preheat oven to 180°C. Heat sesame oil in large pan over medium-high heat. Add half of meatballs and sauté until brown and cooked through. This should take around 15 minutes - be careful not to burn! Transfer meatballs to another rimmed baking sheet. Place in oven. Repeat with remaining meatballs.

5. Cut each baguette in half, not quite all the way. Spread hot chili mayo over both cut sides of rolls. Fill each with 1/4 of meatballs and pickled vegetables (drained), jalapeños and coriander to taste. Eat over a plate, as these can get gloriously messy.


Bánh gan - coconut creme caramel
Adapted from Good Taste 2007

225g (1 cup) white sugar
80ml (1/3 cup) water
1 x 400ml can coconut milk
375ml (11/2 cups) milk
6 eggs, lightly whisked
100g (1/2 cup, firmly packed) grated palm sugar sugar
1/2 vanilla bean

1. Preheat oven to 160°C. First make your caramel. Combine the white sugar and water in a medium saucepan over low heat. Cook, stirring, for 2 minutes or until sugar dissolves. Increase heat to high and bring to the boil. Boil, without stirring, occasionally brushing down side of pan with a pastry brush dipped in water, for 3-4 minutes or until beautiful golden. Watch out, because this burns easily at this stage! Pour the caramel mixture evenly among eight 160ml (2/3-cup) capacity ovenproof ramekins. Set aside for 5 minutes or until set.

2. Whisk together the coconut milk, milk, egg, grated palm sugar in a large bowl until well combined. Scrape in vanilla bean and whisk again to combine. Strain through a fine sieve into a jug. Carefully pour this over the caramel mixture in the ramekins.

3. Place the ramekins in a large roasting pan. Boil your kettle and pour enough boiling water into the pan to reach halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Bake in oven for 35-40 minutes or until the custards are just set. Transfer to a baking tray and set aside for 1 hour to cool. Cover the ramekins with plastic wrap and place in the fridge for 6 hours or overnight to chill.

4. To serve, run a flat-bladed knife around the inside edge of the ramekins and carefully turn onto serving plates. I didn't have any on hand, but recipe suggest sprinkling with toasted shredded coconut and lime rind to serve.

sides as mains: roasted brussels sprouts with bacon, mushrooms and crispy shallots

If you're one of those people who think they don't like Brussels sprouts, this may cure you.


There's little baby sprouts at the markets at the moment and they were so cute I had to buy some. But to be honest, Brussels sprouts were - up until now - one of those things I wished I liked more. I kept reading about how sweet and nutty they were, but couldn't seem to draw those qualities from the little things the few times I'd tried. The answer was, of course, to roast them in the oven. I should have thought of this earlier - probably around the time I first tried this.

This recipe has you toss the babies in finely minced garlic and some olive oil and roast them until they smell amazing and look all burnished and glossy. While they're cooking, you crisp up some shallots and put them aside to drain. Then in the same pan, sauté some bacon and mushrooms until it looks amazing, add thyme and white wine to make a kind of jus and the toss in the roasted brussels sprouts. Serve topped with the crispy, crispy shallots and this is really too good to be a side dish.

The original recipe has no bacon, as it's designed to serve alongside meat. I had some in the fridge so I threw it in, thinking it would take this dish to the next level. But the roasted sprouts were so good, it would have been just as yummy without. So it makes a wonderful vegetarian side or dinner, if you don't mind sides as mains.

Roasted brussels sprouts with bacon, mushrooms and crispy shallots
Adapted from epicurious.com

Brown bag lunch idea: I popped the leftovers into my lunchbox with a miniature can of chickpeas and some feta. It was ace!

500g Brussels sprouts (the younger the better)
1 clove garlic, minced
olive oil
salt
vegetable oil
2 shallots, thinly sliced
2 rashers of rindless middle bacon, cut into lardons
a knob of unsalted butter
a couple of handfuls of fresh mushrooms (I used swiss brown), quartered if large
a slug of dry white wine
2 sprigs of fresh thyme
salt & pepper
1/4 cup water
an extra knob of butter

1. Toss Brussels sprouts with oil, garlic, salt, and pepper, then spread out in 1 layer in a large shallow baking pan. Roast until tender and browned. This will take around 20 for baby sprouts and up to 35 minutes for larger ones.

2. While the Brussels sprouts roast, fry your shallots. Heat oil in a pan big enough to accommodate the mushrooms later and fry shallots, stirring occasionally, until golden brown. Be careful as they burn very easily! Transfer with a slotted spoon to paper towels to drain, spreading in a single layer and they'll magically crisp up as they cool.

3. Next do the bacon and mushrooms. Remove excess oil from the pan, but don't clean it! You want to use all that sweet flavour from the shallots. Fry bacon lardons until crispy brown. Push lardons to a far edge of the pan and heat knob of butter in pan until foamy. Sauté mushrooms, stirring occasionally, until golden brown and tender, stirring through the lardons. Add the wine, thyme, salt, and pepper and boil, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until liquid is reduced to a glaze, about 2 minutes. Add water and extra knob of butter and simmer, swirling skillet, until butter is melted. Transfer to a serving dish and stir in Brussels sprouts. Sprinkle with shallots.

'you won't accept a guy's tongue in your mouth and you're gonna eat that?': the brown bag lunch

I'm in love with the idea of bringing lunch from home to work or school or whatever; this is because I hardly ever do it. I think about it lots - I fantasise about what would be wonderful to eat outside under old trees shedding orange/red/golden leaves in the warm Autumn afternoon sun on my lunch break. But I'm hardly ever organised enough to make this dream come true and am invariably left complaining about the fact that there is nothing you can buy worth eating. Every. Day.


This has to stop. So I got to think more seriously about bringing lunch from home, or brown bagging-it, as it's also known. Remember that great scene in John Hughes 1985 film The Breakfast Club where it's lunch time and everyone takes out a lunch that totally cements their character stereotypes? I love that scene. Claire, the princess, pulls out a proper sushi lunch set-up which she proceeds to eat with chopsticks (remember, this was the 1980s). The jock whips out giant bags of sandwiches, coke, chips, milk, fruit and chocolate chip cookies. Bad boy John has no lunch, and 'neo maxi zoom dweebie' Brian's 'standard, regular lunch' consists of soup, apple juice and PB&J with the crusts cut off. And Allison, the basket-case pictured above, in a lunch performance, slurps coke and concocts a sandwich to end all sandwiches. To the horror of her Saturday detention buddies, it begins with (literally) throwing away the baloney that sat between two slices of white bread and replacing this with carefully distributed sherbet from straws and a huge handful of what I guess (as an unenlightened Australian) is Cap'n Crunch cereal.

There is no quiz below to help you work out your neatly-defined lunch personality. Just as the characters in The Breakfast Club come to see their stereotypes as permeable, constructed things that they can all claim membership to, I can see bits of myself in all of these lunches. Sometimes I bring no lunch to work and this leaves me feeling really ace and tough - but unsatisfied. For a princessey treat sometimes I actually do pick up sushi on the way in. Once, in pre-coffee morning haste I packed cool ranch doritos and olives. But maybe nothing is quite as good as a properly packed, yummy but healthy lunch like Brian's. It's a shame he gets teased for it, but we'll let Bender off, because he has problems at home and he's a spunk.


The only thing with brown bag lunches, is that I seem to run out of ideas in double-quick time. So I've decided to start a mini-series of brown bag lunch posts here called 'you won't accept a guy's tongue in your mouth and you're gonna eat that?'. And I've John Hughes to thank for such eternally useful one-liners. I kicked off my new resolution to brown bag it more often the other day with this salad. It's healthy, pretty filling, it travels well and you can make it the night before - and with fruit and PB & choc chip cookie treats, it made a super lunch. I've included the recipe below.

But, do you take your lunch to work? What are your favorites? And, what do you pack it in? I'd really like to know. I need ideas, desperately. Even more than that, I'd like to stereotype you (endearingly) by what you pack. Indulge me?

Potato, tuna and egg salad
Adapted from Woman's Weekly wonder diet book (yes, really. Good lunch recipes to be found here.) The photograph shows the salad before I mixed the dressing through - much prettier, but salad is tastier once this has happened
Serves 1

3 smallish new potatoes
50g green beans, topped and halved crossways
95g tinned tuna, drained (one mini-can)
1 spring/green onion, finely sliced
a spring or two of flat-leaf parsley, chopped
1 heaped tbls Greek yogurt
a little finely grated lemon rind
1 tsp lemon juice
pinch of salt
1 hard-boiled egg, quartered

1. Boil or steam potatoes and beans separately, until potatoes are tender and beans are cooked but still a little crunchy. Drain and cool.

2. While cooling, make dressing. Combine yogurt, lemon juice, rind and salt and mix well.

3. Quarter potatoes, add beans, onion, tuna and parsley. Add dressing and stir to combine, or drizzle atop. Serve topped with egg.