Good chocolate

Is there any other kind??? Arguably not. Anti-oxidants galore, all wrapped in mouth-watering, divinely sweet, chocolatey goodness. It was made that way for a reason, so let's vote to remove the luxury tax - it's a necessity, like water or sex.

Which is why, after a helluva long day like today, I needed some. 

These days I measure the productiveness of my weekend by how much really good cooking I've managed, and how well it looks in photographs. This weekend was excellent. Gorgeous weather, blue skies, birds singing, the smell of freshly mown grass and washing on the line. And a great chocolate cake. Bliss. 

I really had my doubts about this recipe because it looked almost too easy, but mostly because it called for melting the chocolate with a minute bit of 

milk. That just turned the whole thing into a fudgy sludge and had me cursing  the waste of 250g decent dark chocolate. (Although I would have rolled it into balls and sold it to Tim as 'truffles' or something of that ilk). 

Surprisingly, the whole thing mixed beautifully, was really simple, and came out perfectly. This cake is deceptively moist, and given that there's not an ounce of butter in it, that's an achievement. Must be the 6 eggs! It means there's no heavy or greasy residue which is a plus. Also, the hazelnut meal works to give it an interesting texture and extra flavour - better than flour. Hazelnuts are like walnuts - not a fan of them au natural, but combine them in any way with chocolate, and they're pretty special.

Time to be healthy...

Flourless Chocolate Hazelnut Cake

Wheat & Gluten Free, Jody Vassallo p 87

Ingredients:

250g (8oz) dark cooking chocolate chopped

2 tbsp milk

120g (4oz) hazelnut meal

1/2 cup (125g/4oz) caster sugar

6 eggs, separated

Preheat oven to 180º (350ºF/Gas 4). Line a 20cm (8in) spring form tin with baking paper.

Put the chocolate and milk into a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water. Do not let the base of the bowl touch the water. Stir over medium heat until the chocolate has melted. Set aside to cool slightly.

Put the chocolate mixture, hazelnut meal, sugar and egg yolks into a bowl and mix to combine. (I mixed everything except the chocolate mix first, and then combined it)

Whisk the eggs in a clean, dry bowl until stiff peaks form. Fold the egg whites into the chocolate mixture and spoon into the prepared tin. 

Bake for 45 minutes or until firm. Allow to cool in the tin for 5 mins. Serve with fresh berries. Serves 8. (Or 1 x Tim)

Lamington drive

The thought of lamingtons conjurs up memories of the yearly tradition of lamington drives for school, girl's brigade, church fundraisers, senior citizens fundraisers, etc, etc, etc... I'm sure it was even more painful for parents, guilted into buying the dreaded things, and bullied into arriving at the school early on a Saturday morning to take delivery of the un-iced cakes, and spend the day dipping and boxing at the direction of the second grade teacher straight out of uni.

I remember one year, back in the days when primary school children could wander the neighbourhood, safe in the knowledge that as long as parents knew vaguely where you were and you were home by dinner, they wouldn't panic and call a full-scale search, a good friend of mine called Imogen and I set out to sell more lamingtons than any other girls brigader had ever sold in the history of girls brigaders selling lamingtons. We decided that rather than do a half-arsed job canvassing immediate relatives, next door neighbours and our parents friends who would be unable to say no, (lest our parents refuse to buy their kids' fundraising crap) we would launch a well-planned, street-by-street operation in our suburb. I think we were actually trying to knock some leader's pet off their perch, but motive didn't matter because we were raising money for some good, girls brigade approved cause. I have no memory of what that was but I know it didn't directly benefit us - unless you count the glow you get when you sell more lamingtons than anyone else. But anyway...

For two 11 year olds, we were well-organised and strategic. There were clipboards involved, and a map of our suburb, one water bottle (no fear of germs then) and Imogen's bike in case we got tired. I don't really think either of us could read the map, but we had a notion that it was good marketing for adults to see two such organised kids, even if we didn't know what marketing was either. We went on to set some kind of lamington selling record, for the sale of both cream-filled and plain lamingtons - something like 67 dozen from memory. Not bad. It was announced in the church and we were instantly forgiven for annoying far too many innocent citizens.

Anyway, Tim's had a craving for lamingtons lately and has been disappointed with the general standard of pre-packaged, pre-fabbed, pre-flavour offerings at the supermarket. Let's face it, the life of the supermarket lammo starts so long before it ever finds a home that the poor things don't have a chance! Dry sponge that doesn't resemble anything my mother ever made, synthetically flavoured with the sorriest looking coconut clinging desperately to the synthetically coloured chocolate, raspberry (try flamingo pink) or white syruped edges impersonating real icing. It's no wonder that Tim turned once again to the (so far) fail-safe pages of Donna Hay's chocolate book for guidance. (It was her or me and I wasn't in the mood.)

Tim has a theory that lamingtons are made best with slightly stale, day-old sponge. Since we didn't have any of that lying around the house, he bought a sponge cake from the supermarket. Next step, measure it up and square of the corners. Yes, I'm serious. The man had a ruler and other geometrical implements on hand so that his lamingtons would be perfectly cut. (I know) Next came the frosting. It involved A LOT of icing sugar, so he halved the quantities. But basically it's a hot, runny, cocoa icing. Totally idiot-proof. Tim did really well.

Lamington Icing

Donna Hay, Simple Essentials - Chocolate, p40.

Ingredients:

3 cups (450g/15 3/4oz) icing sugar, sifted

3/4 cup (90g/3oz) cocoa powder, sifted

1 cup (250ml/ 8fl oz) boiling water

1/4 cup (60ml/ 2 fl oz) milk

75g (2 1/2 oz) melted butter

dessicated coconut, to coat

Mix together all of the ingredients in a large bowl. Put the coconut in another bowl. Roll the sponge squares in the icing and then in the desiccated coconut. Place on a baking tray lined with non-stick baking paper and refrigerate until set.

The problem with brown food...

I really wanted to share this one because it's so delicious and easy and will definitely make the right impression on anyone who isn't a vegetarian. Unfortunately Tim was right! It's REALLY, REALLY hard to photograph brown food and make it look good. (The obvious exception being anything made of chocolate. Let's face it, chocolate on a stick would still make you want to reach for the nearest Lindt ball). Not beef stew.

Still, we pressed on, determined to do this French classic asthetic justice. In the end, after many variations on a theme, and with Tim at his wits end over my obsession for a plate of beef stew, I settled for full frontal beef.

Now about the brown food in question, I attempted another French feast - Beef Carbonnade. It sounds flashy, but really it's beef and onion stew made with beer. Actually it tasted great, but it's just hard to photograph it and make it look anything other than beef stew with mash. Which is really what it is.

Compared to beef bourguinon, this recipe is a doddle. No overnight marinading, bouquet garni, small onions that take forever to peel or any tying up of any ingredients. It's basically beef, beer and onion. Really you just chop it all up, brown it in batches, layer it in a casserole dish and pour a beery mixture all over it. Then into the over for 2-3 hours and you're done.

I think my absolutely favourite thing about this stew, and others like it, is that you can start out with an average cut of meat, and after several hours of cooking in some delicious juices in a slow oven, you have something really special.



Beef Carbonnade
The Food of France, a journey for food lovers, p159, Murdoch Books

Ingredients:
30g (1 oz) butter
2-3 tbsp oil
1kg (2lb 4oz) lean beef rump or chuck steak, cubed
4 onions, chopped
1 garlic clove, crushed (but since I don't have a crusher, I finely chopped)
1 tsp brown sugar
1 tbsp plain flour
500ml (2 cups) beer (bitter or stout. Tim spent some time in NT this year so I opted for VB)
2 bay leaves
4 sprigs of thyme

Preheat oven to 150ºC (300ºF/Gas ). Melt the butter in a large pan with a tablespoon of oil. Brown the meat in batches over high heat and lift out onto a plate. (I didn't cook completely through - literally just brown)

Add another tbsp of oil to the pan and add the onion. Cook over moderate heat for 10 minutes, then add the garlic and sugar and cook for a further 5 imnutes, adding another tablespoon of oil if necessary. Lift the onion out onto a second plate.

Reduce the heat to low and pour in any juices that have drained from the browned meat, then stir in the flour. Rmove from the heat and stir in the beer, a little at a time (the beer will foam). Return to the heat and let the mixture gently simmer and thicken. Season with salt and pepper.

Layer the meat and onion in a casserole dish, tucking the bay leaves and springs of thyme between the layers and seasoning with salt and black pepper as you go. Pour the liquid over the meat, cover with a lid and cook in the oven for 2 1/2 -3 hours, or until the meat is tender.

The French serve this with croutons - slices of baguette toasted and spread with dijon mustard. Since I can't do baguette, I settled for creamy mashed potatoes. Mmmmmm......

Comfort food at it's best, and excellent the following day.

To market, to market...

It's been a long and cranky week and what I needed this morning to boost my morale was a trip to some decent markets. I grabbed my patient and understanding brother Sam, lured by the promise of a good coffee and home-cooked tasty treats, and off I set.

First stop - Gorman House Markets in the City. Actually, first stop was coffee, but after that we got down to business.

GH has been around for ages, and I've been a seller there a couple of times. It's been a bit of an up and down affair over the years, but these days it's more up than down and actually really pleasant and vibrant. We got there just after opening time so a few people were still setting up and it was a little quiet, but perfect for trawling unhindered by crowds of people. By the time we left - about 10.30am, it was picking up considerably.

Stalls there are mostly vintage clothing, arts and crafts, local produce and international food. I haven't been in ages, but since last time I went, a cake stall has been added in the main courtyard - Amore Cakes? Of course this proved irresistable to me, so over I ventured, a woman with a mission, narrowly avoiding tripping over the dancing child and large Irish wolf hound . I really wasn't in the mood for a gluten free brownie, and I couldn't try the rose-muffins or brioche pudding (which incidentally looked divine) so I settled for a piece of banana-blueberry bread for Tim.

As you can see from my extremely average photo (forgot to take my camera along!!!) a piece of this bread is cut off an served in a great chunk and at $4 it seems like good value. I had the tiniest sliver and it was moist and tasty. Tim might have something to add when he's tried it...

The second good thing I got was home-baked bread. A whopping great multigrain loaf that really looks like a loaf of bread should look. There are two types on offer, the main difference being that one has caraway seeds and the other doesn't. The same lady sells other goodies, as well as some home-grown organic produce.

Gorman House is definitely worth a look. It's open from 10am Saturdays. 

Not satisfied with my purchases, I headed over to the Fyshwick Fresh Food Markets, on the promise that a shop there sold whole rabbits for the bargain price of 12.99. My mother has been hankering for rabbit for ages, and I've been dying to try my hand at making a French dish involving the little critters.

I found what I was looking for, not at either of the butchers (although I did come away with some very well priced and lean chuck for tonight's effort in French cooking) but at the poultry shop. I bought four, along with a whole duckling (don't worry - it's more the size of a small turkey!!!) for yet another French recipe I want to try.

We also picked up assorted fruit and veg at really good prices, and I was very restrained at the deli. It's easy to get caught up in the colour and theatre that is the heart of any real food market, and I say dive in. It's fun and you'll get much more out of it than supermarket shopping.

Try Fyshwick Markets for more info.

Now I have a lot to work with, so stay tuned for something fabulous and French.

New speed record set!

That's right folks, I set a new speed record when I took my chocolate souffles out of the oven! They fell faster than a euro dropped from the top of the Eiffel Tower. (Not that I've ever tried that. Just sticking to a French theme...)

They may have been a little flatter than I would have liked, but man they tasted goooooooodddd!!! Just ask Tim. I practically had to engage in hand to hand combat once he'd finished his and I still had some left.

I've always wanted to try making a souffle and as the Festival of Tim drew to a close, I decided it was time to try. I'd heard they were difficult to master. It's true. They are. Well sort of. It's not hard to follow all the instructions and put the ingredients together and get it in the oven, but the second I took mine out of the oven, their chocolatey, air-filled walls of tasty goodness deflated, right before my eyes! This made it very hard to photograph.

Undefeated, I intend to keep trying. It's likely this weekend will result in a recipe from a French cook book for zucchini souffle. Actually the photos look divine and I have nothing against zucchini.

Chocolate Souffle

Donna Hay: Simple Essentials - Chocolate, page 80

Ingredients:

melted butter for brushing

caster sugar for dusting

150g (5 1/4 oz) dark chocolate, chopped

1/3 cup (80ml/2 1/2 fl oz) cream (single or pouring)

1/4 cup (30g/1 oz) cocoa powder, sifted

6 egg whites

1/2 cup (110g/3 3/4 oz) caster sugar

Preheat the oven to 180º C (350ºF). Brush 4 x 1 cup (250ml/ 8 fl oz) capacity dishes with butter and dust with caster sugar. Place on a baking tray. Melt chocolate, cream and cocoa in a saucepan over low heat, stirring until smooth.

Place egg whites in the bowl of an electric mixer and whisk until soft peaks form. Gradually add extra sugar and whisk until thick and glossy. Fold a quarter of the egg white mixture through the chocolate mixture. Gently fold remaining egg whites through and spoon into prepared dishes.

Bake for 20 minutes or until souffles are pugged and set. Serve immediately. (I served with whipped cream)

The festival of Tim continues...

Rather than spend hours over a hot stove creating something that would wind up being wolfed down while sitting on the floor, in our trackies, in front of the coffee table, with Tim reading the junk mail and me watching something British on TV, I opted to take him out for his birthday dinner.

But where was worthy of this occasion??? Sabayon, in Canberra's West Row.

We'd been there once before - the night before Tim had to go off on a 5 month posting, a night when we both wound up drunk on emotion and one bottle of red, and a night when his ex-girlfriend who he hadn't seen since the breakup a couple of years before, wound up sitting at the table behind us in full view. Memorable for all the wrong reasons, although I do recall thinking it was a great meal.

This time around was no exception. We opted for the degustation menu, without wine, since we'd already started drinks. There were 5 courses, starting with perfectly cooked scallops, followed by even more perfectly cooked calamari strips on a sweet salad. I was so impressed by this as most places manage to turn out slightly rubbery calamari. This was exquisitely tender and salty. After this, we moved on to a tourine of chicken, pistachio and I think a more gamey meat. Finally for mains, we had the most perfect little piece of beef known to man of beast. This was served with what I can only describe as the most flavoursome mini-meat and potato pie in the universe. I can't explain how good it was - it was like there was a party in my mouth and everyone was there! Despite being roughly the size of a 50c piece, it was enough. Any more would have been overkill.

The palate was freshened with a mouthful of mandarin sorbet, which we thought was it. But wait, there's more... A sort of chocolate mousey cake thing with strawberries and vanilla sorbet for proper dessert. Tea and coffee was then served with rosey turkish delight and caramel.

The thing about this degustation is that while everything is in small, and sometimes tiny proportions, it's all the best of the best. I mean, every morsel was carefully thought about and beautifully presented to you at just the right interval, by waiting staff who took care of you without crowding you.

We walked out feeling full and happy. My guess is that we felt so full because of the richness of every course, and because eating at intervals lets your system start to feel the food before you keep going. You don't just wolf down a big plate of whatever, not thinking much about it, and then wonder why you're about to burst.

Without wine cost $65 and with is $95. That might seem pricey but we both felt it was value for money - it's the whole experience you're paying for and well worth it. In fact, stay tuned next month when we will have gone back for another birthday and indulged in the version with wine.

The menu and all the details can be found on the website: http://www.sabayon.com.au/

Cakes Men Like...

This is from a hysterical book I bought a few years ago called 'Cakes Men Like' by Benjamin Darling. It contains 50 'fun filled recipes' for cakes that promised to make the most untalented housewife a domestic goddess, and thereby fulfill at least half of her matrimonial duty.

The recipes are taken from the promotional blurb produced by baking product manufacturers during the golden era of baking - 30's, 40's & 50's. I've attempted a couple of recipes in the past with mixed success, possibly because in some cases I've had to take a stab at what some of the ingredients actually are.

It's Tim's birthday today and while I'm tempted to make the pink-frosted birthday cake on page 9 that calls for 2 cups of sugar, 3/4 cup of shortening, 5 tsp of baking powder, and some other stuff, (like a trip to the ER when the chest pains begin) I'm going to make chocolate souffle. Tomorrow...