When I was in college (or "at university", as the Kiwis say), my then-boyfriend accused me of lacking appropriate ladylike charms. Basically he meant that I swore too much, had a wicked sense of humor, and didn't cook or clean.
Though that relationship was not long for this world, his criticism stuck with me, and stimulated a flurry of attempts at domesticity, because I now needed to prove to myself that he was wrong: I was perfectly capable of the housewiferly charm of the Home Cooked Meal. (Subsequently, I've also upgraded from him past boyfriend-who-doesn't-like-chicken-and-pasta, beyond boyfriend-who-thinks-I'm-too-uncouth-to-meet-his-mother, and finally to friends-who-love-coming-over-for-dinner.)
I must confess that I'm still utterly useless at the 30-minute family-ready meal.
But I like to take some pride in periodically laying out a spread for my friends back home, usually a multi-course affair which takes a day or two to prepare. (I did mention that I'm a "sprinter", right?) For me, the HCM is not just tasty and filling, it's also a demonstration of my domestic skill.
Unfortunately, that means my cooking recipe tends towards what my host/landlord Hugh calls "fussy food." He's endlessly amused that, when I cook "evening tea" (a.k.a. dinner), it's a multi-hour process that involves a seemingly endless procession of pots, pans, and finicky utensils that he and Robyn rarely use.
Somehow, I've not yet managed to disappoint them, though I have occasionally kept them hungry a little longer than normal. (Actually, that's my super-secret strategy: The hungrier you are, the better food tastes!) Also, the nice thing about being in a metric-system country but using recipes from back home is that I always have the fall-back excuse: The conversion tables didn't work out right!
Below are links to the recipes I've made for my host family with notes on location-specific preparation -- though the pictures come from previous endeavors with similar food in California. (I'm not quite prepared to admit to my kitchen camera-toting habits.)
Below are links to the recipes I've made for my host family with notes on location-specific preparation -- though the pictures come from previous endeavors with similar food in California. (I'm not quite prepared to admit to my kitchen camera-toting habits.)
No sufficiently large onions were to hand when I prepared this.
Of course, you can stuff peppers with most anything, and it will
turn out delicious and presentable. Only worry is to avoid
letting things become too watery.
For the life of me, I can't find the recipe I use online -- probably because it's now firmly cemented
in my head. Still, this one comes close. Rather than slicing the eggplant lengthwise, I slice mine
on a diagonal to give me oval slices (depends on the size of your eggplant, of course). Turns out
that salting the eggplant slices and letting them rest for 30 minutes is an absolutely brilliant step:
completely draws out the bitterness. After rinsing and drying, I brush mine with olive oil and pre-
bake for about 10mins on either side until their browned, rather than frying as this recipe suggests.
And, as I discovered here in NZ courtesy of a zucchini plant with a hidden arm, you can make this
with zucchini slices, too! (But skip the post-slicing salting step.)
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| Especially "fussy," as Hugh says, because you have to mash up the flour and cheese, then roll into balls, then cook, then fry. But incredibly rich and delicious. |
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| The star of this dish is the black-pepper pastry. Double the recipe (if you're like everyone I know, and adore a thick crust!) and chill everything whenever you're not handling it. Last year, this was my very first attempt at pastry-making, and it was a success. Unusually enough, I was able to repeat the performance here in NZ! (I think it's a function of my fearless addition of more and more cream...) |
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| I never -- and I do mean *never* -- make cakes from scratch. But since I first tried this recipe in December, I think I've made it no fewer than five times. Oh, and in the foreground, another fabulous Smitten Kitchen dessert: the cranberry-almond tart. Right, and I *always* use a store-bought crust for this. |
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| Though exhibited (of course, on Smitten Kitchen) as a hazelnut-plum tart, I of course was too lazy to toast and grind nuts, so I opted for almond flour that was sitting in my cupboard for... far too long, anyway. Turned out just fine with blackberries instead of plums, too. And, in subsequent iterations, with pluots (a plum-apricot mix found in Cali farmers markets) and, here in NZ, with rhubarb. Lots and lots of rhubarb. (Turns out you should pre-bake the rhubarb with sugar before filling the tart shell to soften and sweeten.) |
