Rhubarb & Custard...

...cocktail! I had a little rhubarb left over from the chutney, and still wanting to keep away from the usual things folk make with the red stuff, I thought a drink of some description would be worth a try. So after trawling through my cookbooks and asking the internet, I found this (apologies in advance for the non-metric measurements - I'll change them soon):

Rhubarb & Custard Cocktail

• 1/3 stalk of rhubarb, finely chopped
  
• 83/100 oz galliano
• 83/100 oz tequila
• 83/100 oz lemon vodka
• 83/100 oz.cream
• 21/50 oz grenadine
• 1 slice lemon, squeezed

You'll also need two Boston shakers, a hawthorn strainer, a bar spoon, a cocktail glass and a muddler.

Place the finely chopped rhubarb, lemon juice and grenadine in the first Boston glass, and then muddle. Add the tequila and vodka. In the second Boston glass, add cream and galliano. Fill the first glass with ice and shake, then strain into the cocktail glass. Fill the second Boston glass with ice, and shake furiously - the more you shake, the easier it is for the liquid to float (apparently). Separate, then lay the bar spoon across the top of the tin with its flat end (the underside) sticking out an inch past the edge of the tin at most. Place your Hawthorn strainer on top of the spoon. Slowly pour the cream and galliano mix down the spoon and float it over the liquid sitting in the cocktail glass.

It tasted good, pleasantly creamy and with a tang, but Stacey thought that the rhubarb should have been cooked off and a syrup made from it to make its tartness more pronounced. John thought the tequila was superfluous.

A big thank you to John, barman extraordinaire at Provedore, for his cocktail-fu.


Links:

• The specific gravity of liquers - essential knowledge for layering spirits(!) clickety

• Bartending techniques clickety

Rhubarb, Apricot & Ginger Chutney

At the bottom of your typical New Zealand backyard, just past Francesco the Jack Russell's grave and the smelly old compost pile, is an oft neglected plant found in many a New Zealand back yard: the rhubarb plant. It's a sturdy thing, requiring little in the way of attention; bearing a resemblance to silverbeet, it has long crimson stalks topped with full, leafy green, leaves. Rhubarb is ready to harvest from November here in the Southern hemisphere - don't be put off if the stalks are green; they're just as usable and edible as the red. Most people probably already know this, but it does bear repeating: the green leaves are very poisonous and should not be cooked, steeped as they are in oxalic acid.


Rhubarb's usefulness lies in its tart flavour. Typically used in desserts and puddings as a counterpoint to their sweetness, this feature makes it valuable in savoury dishes. In particular, rhubarb's sharpness contrasts nicely with the unctuous quality of cooked meats. With summer here and the accompanying prevalence of salads and cold cuts of meat, I thought a chutney would be a good way to put my rhubarb to use.

Making preserves, whether relishes, chutneys or sauces, is a great way of using up excess produce from your garden. It's also cheaper than buying it from the shops, invariably tastes better and as is often the case when making things, there's a great deal of satisfaction to be had from producing food for you and the people around you. The flavour of your product will continue to develop and even change over time, so it'll be interesting to see how this affects the rhubarb.

This is Gordon Ramsay's version of a traditional rhubarb chutney. I made this on Saturday morning; it's quite easy to do and makes about 900 grams.

Rhubarb, Apricot & Ginger Chutney

• 300 g brown sugar
• 450g rhubarb, chopped into 2cm pieces
• 350g onion, finely chopped
• 175g dried apricots
• 480ml cider vinegar
• 1 tsp ground coriander seeds
• ½ tsp allspice
• ¼ tsp mustard seeds
• 2 cloves
• 4cm piece fresh ginger, peeled and sliced
• jars & lids

Place all the ingredients in a large pot. Place on a low heat and stir until the sugar has dissolved, then bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer gently for 2-3 hours, stirring occasionally.,

During this time, sterilise your lids and jars. There are several ways to do this; run them though your dishwasher; pop them into a pot of boiling water for 10 minutes, remove and leave to air dry on a rack; you could use a sterilising agent such as that used for bottles for home brewing; or simply wash in hot, soapy water, dry with a clean tea towel and place in an oven at 150c for half an hour.

Back to the chutney. Allow to cool slightly and then remove the cloves. Using a hand-held stick blender, blitz the mixture until you achieve the texture you want. Spoon into your jars and then leave to cool completely before putting on the lids. Keep in a dark place for a couple of weeks before opening (remember, the longer you leave them, the better the flavour). Refrigerate after opening and it should keep for about a month. Unopened, it will keep for up to a year. Enjoy with cold slices of pork, mutton or beef.


Links: You can't talk about rhubarb and not put up dessert recipes. Treats from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall clickety

Information about growing rhubarb clickety

Reconditioning a Cast Iron Frying Pan

When I'm not busy wrestling middle-aged women for vintage cookbooks at garage sales, I can be found rummaging through piles of bric-a-brac for old kitchen treasures. Say hello to my latest acquisition, an old, cast-off cast iron frying pan. With an eye to restoring it back to its former glory (thanks to Greg's post here), it accompanied me home to the Kai Lab.




The beauty of cast iron cookware is that it can be bought relatively cheaply, albeit in used condition. Being of sturdy build, they'll take the knocks and will last for ever as long as they're looked after. They are prone to rusting but this is remedied by seasoning. The process is a form of polymerisation, which in this instance involves bonding oil to metal through heat, thus forming a protective skin. Done properly, this will prevent rust from forming, as well as rendering the pan non-stick and therefore easy to use and clean.

You will need:

• a can of spray-on oven cleaner (possibly two cans; this depends on how bad a state it's in)
• an old oven tray or dish (or a disposable one)
• white vinegar, 1 litre
• 0000 grade steel wool or a plastic pot scrubber
• gloves
• paper towels
• cheap olive oil (pomace or similar)
• large rubbish bag
• 7 litres of hot water

Dressed like a budget-constrained Bond villain, it was off to work. Place your pan over the roasting dish and spray all over with the oven cleaner. By the way, make sure the area where you're working is well ventilated - the OC is toxic stuff.



Pop the roasting dish with the pan into the rubbish bag, seal (the bag serves to stop the oven cleaner from drying out) and leave for a few days for the cleaner to work its magic. Depending on how encrusted your pan is, this may require several applications and a lot of time. Mine took two attempts over five days before it looked clean. After each session, wipe off the cleaner with a sponge or rag, and scrub the pan in hot soapy water - dry immediately.


Time to take care of the rust. In a bowl or tub, pour in your white vinegar and hot water. Place your pan in this mix for 30 minutes; during this time, preheat your oven to 130c. Once the time is up, remove the pan, dry and then sand off the rust with the steel wool (pop some gloves on before you start - the wool will break up as you work the pan and imbed itself in your fingers. While it doesn't hurt, it can feel a bit niggly). Afterwards, wash the pan in hot soapy water, towel off and then pop upside down in the oven to dry for 45 minutes.



Now crank the oven up to 280c and leave at this temperature for 45 minutes. This is the stage where we'll season the pan. Have a rack ready on your kitchen bench. Remove the pan from the oven (don't switch it off), place on the rack and rub all over with olive oil using paper towels - according to Greg, about two tablespoons or so should be sufficient. Do this until it develops a sheen. Once done, place the pan back inside the oven for half an hour. Once the time is up, turn the oven off, and open the door, but just a crack. Once the pan is cool, remove and give it a final wipe.


Voila! A clean and rust-free pan, ready for use.


The interior of the pan came up well; there was a little spotting but nowhere near as bad as the underside. I'm guessing I used far too much oil, resulting in pooling and subsequent staining. It's no bad thing as the pan is still seasoned and usable. This could well correct itself over time.



Now that it's clean, it doesn't look that old after all. Gone is the dream of appearing on Antiques Roadshow, proudly displaying the pan that could well have been used to fry up Captain Cook's bacon - I can't imagine there've been many people appear on Antiques Roadshow uttering the expression, "D'oh!".

Don't forget, every time you use your cast iron cookware, wash it in hot soapy water, dry with a tea towel, followed up with a brief spell in a warm oven. Give it a light spray with cooking oil before putting it away, too. Pans like this are always to be found at second hand stores and garage sales, so take a chance and buy one, and give this a go.

Clearing Out the Fridge 2 - Peanut Butter & Jelly Toasted Sandwich

Remember my last post, where I found the membrillo lurking in the back of my fridge? I also came across a jar of Welch's grape jam, an American pantry staple sent to me ages ago by my friend Ashley. This brought immediately to mind a recipe given to me the other day by Gwen, a genuine American citizen living in Waipawa! It's for a peanut butter and jelly toasted sandwich. Here goes...

PB 'n' J Toasted Sandwich
You will need:

• 2 pieces of white bread
• butter
• grape jam or jelly (hard to find but you could try Trademe, Ebay, or the neat Asian food store in Napier near Firecats - they get it in every once in a while, as well as A&W root beer!)
• smooth peanut butter

Grab a frying pan and heat over a hob on a temperature somewhere between low and medium. While that's happening, butter your two pieces of bread. Flip the slices over and spread thickly with peanut butter. Then spread one piece with a generous helping of grape jelly. Sandwich together with the buttered sides facing outwards. Place in your frying pan and brown first one side, then the other. Remove the pan from the heat, slip your toasted sandwich onto a plate and devour with a glass of milk. God bless America...and antacids.

Clearing Out the Fridge - Membrillo

I was cleaning out my fridge the other day (no treasures to be found, apart from a bottle of creaming soda mix for my Sodastream - w00t!) ) when I came across this, the last of the membrillo I made back in May. Membrillo, originating in Spain, is a firm sliceable paste made from quince, typically served with manchego. Other cheeses work just as well; when I made it, I was shovelling it down with some vintage gouda - delicious! It's still in excellent condition, thanks to its high sugar content and having lived in the fridge all this time.

While quince aren't in season until autumn, knowing how to make membrillo is a handy skill to have. Like lemons and grapefruit in this country, it's not uncommon to see quince languishing on trees and going to waste (a bugbear of mine), due to folk being unaware of their potential. Write this down and consider making it once they're available; quince paste ain't cheap to buy, plus it's immensely satisfying to make. Here's the recipe:

Membrillo

• 1.8 kg of quince, washed, peeled, cored, roughly chopped
• 1 vanilla pod, split and scraped
  
• lemon peel, 2 band-aid sized strips
• 3 tbsp lemon juice
• sugar - keep it handy; the amount you'll need won't be determined until we start cooking
  

Place quince pieces in a large pot and cover with water. Add vanilla pod, seeds and lemon peel and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, cover, and cook until the quince pieces are soft, about half an hour.

Strain the water from the quince pieces. Discard the vanilla pod but keep the lemon peel with the quince. Blitz with a stick mixer or a food processor. Now weigh the quince - whatever amount you have, you'll need the equivalent amount in sugar eg, 5 cups of quince puree = 5 cups of sugar.

Return the quince to the pot. Heat to medium-low. Add the sugar. Stir with a wooden spoon until the sugar has completely dissolved - this step is important; if it does't dissolve properly, it won't gel. Once done, add the lemon juice.

Continue to cook over a low heat for 1 - 1.5 hours, stirring occasionally. The paste will gradually thicken and turn an orangey pink colour.

Preheat oven to a low 55°C. Line an 18 cm x 22 cm pan with baking paper. Grease it with a thin coating of butter and pour in the paste. Using a knife, smooth out the paste so that it's evenly distributed, and place in the oven for about an hour and a half. Remove from the oven to cool.

To serve, cut into cubes or wedges and pair with cheese, traditionally manchego. To store, wrap in cling film and place in the fridge.

Handy links:

So what exactly is a quince? clickety

Things to do with quince paste clickety

Ca Phe Sua Da / Vietnamese Iced Coffee

I had ca phe sua da for the first time many years ago at university. It was at the flat of a friend who was eager to show off the new gadgets his girlfriend had bought him from her homeland, Vietnam. We sat at their kitchen table impressed as glasses topped with little cup-like pots dripped coffee onto sweetened condensed milk. Once done, the pot was removed, the glass given a quick stir, and then topped with ice and a straw. It was delicious, and the best thing about that hot day. A few months ago, I came across some Vietnamese press pots at The Main Street Deli in Greytown (a neat little store in a beautiful little town), and snapped them up immediately, hoping to use them when it got warmer. Given the state of the weather here, now's as good a time as any.

You'll need:

• Vietnamese Press Pots (try your local Asian market or Trademe & Ebay)
• Tall Glasses
• Parfait Spoons (you can use any spoons; parfait are just ideal given the length of the glass)
• Coffee (tradition calls for a French dark roast with Chicory)
• Sweetened Condensed Milk
• Ice
• Water, & something to no-quite-boil it in

The press pot is an interesting device. It comprises the pot, which has a screen on the bottom and a mount to which the filter is attached by winding it on. The extent to which you wind determines the strength of your coffee; the tighter the fit, the slower the flow of water and consequently, the stronger the brew. There is also a lid/sauce, as well as a set of instructions. The unit cost $12 from memory.




Down to business: placing the pot on its lid, pour in two tablespoons of coffee or enough until it reaches just below the screw mount; anymore than that and you'll have difficulty screwing down the filter.


Place the filter on the screw mount and wind down. Again, the tighter you have it, the stronger your coffee will be.


Put your water on to boil and be ready to remove it just before it reaches the rolling boil stage. While that's steaming away, get your glass ready. Pour in a hearty measure of condensed milk, around two to three heaping tablespoons. Place the pot on top. Once your water's ready, pour it in the pot, right up to the lip.


Sit back and watch it steadily drip, drip, drip onto the condensed milk.



Once the pot's empty of water, it's done! Remove the pot and place it on its lid to catch any drips. Grab your spoon, give it a good stir and pour in your ice. Now take your glass of iced coffee, go sit outside in the shade, and sip away while listening to this, thinking all the while about how lucky you really are...

Sponges & Big Red Tractors - The Waipukurau A & P Show, 2009

I've learnt quite a bit about sponges lately. For a start, a good sponge should be light and airy, moist and with minimal crumb. It should taste sweet, but not overly so, and there should be a complete absence of "eggy" flavour. Once you've got it mastered, expect to become very desirable company - watch that phone run hot when word gets out, with requests like, "Can you make a sponge for me? I've got folks to feed at a birthday/wedding/treaty signing at Versailles - ta!". I like to think that I've finally joined that esteemed group; the one pictured above was my entry in the sponge section of the baking competition at the Waipukurau A & P show (that's Agricultural and Pastoral for you cosmopolitan types) - and it won first prize! It looks a little worse for wear but then it had been sitting out for four hours by the time I took the shot. The sponge was the culmination of three months trialing of various recipes, and my gradual education in the science that is sponge making.



What did I learn? Quite a bit, but one thing in particular stood out: folding is the most important part of the sponge-making process. The egg white mix acts as a leavener, harbouring air in its mass which will give the sponge volume. When folding in the dry ingredients, you want to disturb the whites as little as possible, while also insuring that the dry mix is fully incorporated into it. Using a slotted spoon, scrape around the inside of the bowl, then slice down the middle of the mix to the bottom of the bowl. As you slice through the bottom and work your way back up, you should be picking up up a fair amount of mix. Once at the top, fold the mix you've collected over on the surface. Repeat this action and rotate the bowl as you work, until the ingredients are just mixed. Most of you probably already know all of this, but it's relatively new territory to me - there's nothing like making close to a dozen failed sponges before you start to understand the process.

I made the final cake the day before the competition. On the big day, it was split, sandwiched with strawberry jam and cream (a classic pairing, like Lennon and McCartney, or Smith and Wesson) and then off to the showgrounds at 8:30 am for submission.

Judging started at ten that morning. Half an hour later, they finally make it to my wee sponge. Careful consideration and deliberation ensue...



Yes! The thumbs up!




...or she has cream on her thumb. Whatever the reason, I won - woohoo! According to the judges, my sponge had good structure, was light, springy and airy,. Here's my prize, a fifty dollar voucher to be spent at local antique and collectables store, Piccadilly. Cheers!




The section with the most entrants was the Christmas cakes, with around nine or ten entries. They looked grand, covered in icing and packed full of nuts and fruit. It was a busy morning for the judges, with a lot to sample.



And the sponge recipe?

Never Fail Sponge Cake

4 eggs, separated
3/4 cup caster sugar
1 tbspn custard powder
3/4 cup cornflour
1/2 tspn baking soda
1 tspn cream of tartar

Turn oven on to preheat at 165c, and grease a round baking tin. Beat egg whites until stiff. Continue beating while gradually adding sugar. Add egg yolks, beat until well combined. Add triple sifted (from a height) dry ingredients to egg mix and fold using a slotted metal spoon. Bake for 25 minutes (the original recipe said 20 but mine wasn't quite ready at that time, so consider your oven's pernickety temperament when setting a time). Leave in the tin for 5 minutes, then remove and place on a rack to cool.

Below are a few photos of the show. For those of you who don't know, the A & P show is a key feature of life in small town New Zealand. Held in late spring all across the land, the show is a coming together of town and country, allowing townsfolk a glimpse of rural life. Livestock judging, dog trialling, sheep shearing and field ploughing displays are just some of the events that fill the day. All manner of entertainment can be found there too, with carnival games and rides, trade displays, petting zoos and a myriad of vendors selling food. All this, and big tractors too! One of the traditional aspects of the A & P show are the various competitions on offer to those wanting a challenge. Events range from tractor pulling, to dressage and equestrian events, right through to "Best Bantam" and, of particular interest to me, the baking contests.

.
A big thank you to Lorraine (for the recipe is hers) and to Lizzy for their help - much obliged! By the way, click on the link for a couple of alternate sponge recipes plus a brilliant lime, ricotta and strawberry filling - clickclack.