Slowly Does It

I love slow recipes. I love how it pays off to take a breath, to be patient, to coddle and nudge instead of rush and push. It's so unlike me. I'm like the roadrunner in the cartoon, only way fatter, not blue and a shitload less chirpy. I am ALWAYS late, running from client to client and pillar to post wondering where the time went. Even when I stop running and lie down I can't slow down. As a kid I'd move my fingers, endlessly playing my piano pieces. As a grownup I still move my fingers, only now I'm endlessly typing. (If the world were fair my fingers would be still and my stomach muscles would be doing crunches - who needs thin fingers right?)

Perhaps it's because I'm so hyped, so damn late, that my patience is so thin, my irritation so high. Dawdlers drive me crazy. Sunday drivers drive me ballistic. People who walk behind my car when I'm clearly reversing enrage me. Pedestrians who take their time to cross the street infuriate me. At night I lay in bed moving my fingers, imagining sticking them in the eyes of the asshole that came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk today while his lizard brain tried to remember if he wanted to go left or right.

But with food I'm a different person. I slow things down. Take them down a notch. Turn down the heat. Throw away the timer and take out the calender. Because with food you are rewarded for that patience. Subtle flavours develop and grow and tough meat becomes succulent and tender. The pork in this dish, gently cooking away for 8 hours, is so tender they call it Pulled Pork, because you can pull it apart so easily.

Now if only I could slow cook myself. Become Pulled June. Instead of Panicked June. Learn to pause. And breathe. And practice slowing down.

Now hurry up and get out of my way already so I can start working on it dammit!

xx

J

PULLED PORK WITH TORTILLAS, THREE SALSAS, YOGHURT AND LIME

60ml Olive oil

1.25kg Deboned pork leg

2 Onions roughly chopped

3 Cloves of garlic chopped

200g Tomato paste

400g Tin chopped tomatoes

750ml Red wine

45ml Smoked paprika

Handful oreganum

Fry the whole pork leg until nicely browned then remove. Add the onion and garlic and fry for about 5 minutes. Add the pork and the rest of the ingredients and bring to the boil. Put into an oven dish and cover with a tight fitting lid or double sheet of foil. Cook in the oven for at least 8 hours at 110C. Since I did mine overnight I ended up switching off the heat after 8 hours but left it in the oven for another 2.

Tortillas

2c Flour

1.5t Baking powder

1t Salt

2t Vegetable oil

3/4c Warm milk

Mix together everything but the milk. Make a well then add the milk slowly, stirring until you have a sticky ball. Add a bit of flour to prevent it gluing to your hands. Knead for about 2 minutes. Put in a bowl, cover with a dishtowel and leave for 20 minutes. Break into 8 pieces and leave to rest for another 10 minutes. Roll out and fry in a dry pan or one sprayed with a bit of olive oil until slightly browned on both sides.

Other

500ml Greek yoghurt

4 Limes

Pineapple Salsa

1 Pineapple chopped 

1 Red onion chopped

2 Cloves garlic crushed

1 Chilli chopped

1 Lemon juice and zest 

Mix together and season.

Cucumber and Mint Salsa

1 Cucumber chopped

45ml White vinegar

30ml Sugar

Hand mint chopped

1 Chilli chopped

Mix together and season.

Tomato Salsa

400g Cherry tomatoes quartered

1 Red onion chopped

1 Lemon juice and zest

1 Chilli chopped

Mix together and season.

When I Croquette

I suffer from Alzheimers. Well not really but close. My memory sucks. "I told you that" is a familiar accusation. (Followed by "No you didn't" -  I live for denial). My childhood memories are practically non-existent. To tell the truth, the two old people that keep parking off here eating all my food are completely unknown to me. I let them come because they're pleasant enough and they think they're my parents. Shame, I feel sorry for them, I actually think they suffer from Alzheimers...

Anyhow, the other day the fog of my memory lifted and I remembered the delicious croquettes we used to buy on a Sunday night from the Dutch restaurant in town - Hoek van Holland. It was owned by Tannie Femmy and I had the poor woman tracked down and tortured until she gave up her recipe. 

It made me realise that despite all her other accomplishments Tannie Femmy will, in my mind, only be remembered for her croquettes. And I wondered - what will I be remembered for? Will I only be remembered for my brownies or will there be something a bit more substantial in my eulogy? I told Allison the other night that I think when you die, all your bad points become endearing. I envisioned people sobbing inconsolably while she stood on the podium talking about my "quirks":

"Remember how she never used to get her timesheets/invoices/VAT out on time, if ever? How self critical and over sensitive she was? And how you'd tell her a hundred things and a week later she'd deny you ever told her a thing?" (Cue affectionate laughter and more tears.)

Allison says I'm wrong. Dead or alive I'll still be just as annoying. Prove her wrong. When I croak, let me be remembered for my endearing/charming qualities, good or bad. And just in case you can't think of any, I'll make a list and give it to those two old people to keep. As soon as I finish my timesheets.

xx

J

CHICKEN CROQUETTES

300g Chicken
120g Margarine
210g Flour
3 Eggs
1/2t Nutmeg
1/4t Paprika
3t Salt
1t Black pepper
1t Aromat
750ml Chicken stock
1.5c Breadcrumbs
2 Eggs

Place the chicken in one layer in a pan or pot so it lies snugly. Cover with the stock and bring to the boil. Cover partly with a lid, reduce the heat and simmer very slowly for about 10 minutes. Turn off the heat and leave on the stove in the water for another half an hour. Drain, reserving 600ml of the stock. Shred the chicken.

Melt the margarine, add the flour and cook for a minute or so. Slowly add the stock, making a thick white sauce. Mix in 1 egg yolk, the spices and chicken and allow to cool.

Shape the mixture into sausages, about 12cm x 5cm, wetting your hands to make it easier. Whisk the rest of the eggs, then dip the croquettes into the crumbs, then the eggs, then back into the crumbs. Put in the fridge to firm up for half an hour. Heat your oil to 180C and deep fry for 2-3 minutes. You can also freeze them and then deepfry from frozen in which case heat your oil to 170C and fry for 3-5 minutes.

Pish Posh

It's not that I aspire to fanciness. I love my skop-skiet-n-donner bredies. But sometimes a girl just wants to get her posh on. I was waiting to be called in for my first mammogram and in order to contain my excitement about Big Bertha turning my clementines into crumpets I scoured the magazines for distraction. In Miss Oprah's Mag I found a fancy little cocktail party with lots of recipe ideas that I immediately frantically texted to myself. (By the time I got called in I was way more concerned with the tennis elbow in my thumbs to care about my boobs so it worked out well.)

The problem with posh is, you can have the ingredients and the recipes but that doesn't mean you can pull it off with the nonchalance that the photoshopped chick in "O" did. I'm more like the "O No" chick. Put me in a ballroom gown and I'll be the one that rolls down the steps of the town hall. Put me in a fancy restaurant and I'll be the one that tips the glass of red wine over. Even if I'm not drinking red wine. I'll be drawn like a bumbling bee towards the person drinking the sweet nectar of the most stainable liquid.

Thus, true to form, my posh dinner started with early morning mass hysteria at the discovery that blue cheese does not equal gorgonzola followed by desperate research and rapid calculations to compensate and convert my panna cotta recipe. (Thank you Spar for not having cellphone coverage - people need to Google you know!!) This was followed by tornadoing through my clients littering computer parts in my wake. Followed by shopping through Pick n Pay littering broken-hipped-grannies in my wake. Followed by my garden tap being ripped out of the wall causing a gorgeous fountain-like water feature that turned my garden into an impressive mudpit. 

Only then did I, soaking wet, snarling and bleeding from fighting with a rusted stopcock, start on my posh dinner. Needless to say, the hostess was panting, sweating and swearing when her guest arrived. And late. (Well, technically only if you consider having dessert at 11:30 p.m. late.) Thank God for gin. And gracious guests.

No one can say I don't try. But posh? Tosh. 

xx

J

MUSSELS IN CHAMPAGNE CREAM SAUCE

CORIANDER CHILLI AND PICKLED GINGER PRAWN WRAPS
GORGONZOLA CARAMELISED ONIONS AND PINE NUT TARTS

Mussels

20 Mussels

1/2 Onion finely chopped 

1/4c Champagne

1/2c Cream

Steam mussels in onions and champagne for 5 minutes until cooked. Drain, reserving liquid. Add cream and reduce until thickened, adding a bit of Maizena if required. Add mussels back into the sauce, season and simmer for a few minutes longer.

Prawns

20 Prawns shelled and beheaded

2T Coriander chopped

2T Pickled ginger chopped
1 Chilli chopped

1/2T Lemon juice

20 Wonton/Samoosa/Springroll/Phyllo pastry cut to roughly 10 x 12cm

50g Butter

Marinade the prawns overnight in the coriander, ginger, chilli and lemon juice. Melt the butter and paint one end of the pastry, then wrap the prawn and glue closed. Heat oil to about 170C and fry for 3-4 Minutes.

Tarts

100g Gorgonzola

5 Onions finely sliced

400g Puff pastry

40g Pine nuts

375ml Cream

2 Eggs

Fry the onions slowly in 3T oil for about 20 minutes until golden and caramelised. Roll out the pastry fairly thinly then cut out about 8cm rounds. (I used a pudding mould as a cookie cutter - you should get 10 - 12). Oil a muffin pan and press the pastry rounds into the holes. Divide the gorgonzola and onions amongst them. Whisk together the cream and eggs and season well. Pour into the tarts then sprinkle over the pine nuts. Bake at 180C for about 20 minutes until set. 

PEPPER FILLET WITH BRANDY CREAM

(or in posh-lingo - FILET MIGNON AU POIVRE WITH COGNAC CREAM - ha!)

1.2kg Fillet

1c Black peppercorns

1.5c Cream

1/4c Brandy

2T Olive oil

2T Butter

Crush the peppercorns in a coffee grinder or in a plastic bag with a hammer (don't use a pepper grinder). Roll the fillet in the peppercorns but don't salt. Heat the oil until shimmering then add the fillet, searing for about 3 minutes on all sides. Add the butter then turn down the heat a little and cook for another 3-5 minutes, depending on how you like your steak done. Remove the steaks and leave to rest for at least 10 minutes. Add cream to the pan, scraping all the bits from the bottom of the pan, thickening with Maizena or flour if required. Slice the fillet into thick slices and return to the pan. Pour over brandy and set alight. Allow the alcohol to burn off and season to taste. I served mine with baked potatoes lathered in butter and sour cream. Try not to drool... 

BLUE CHEESE PANNA COTTA WITH ROASTED PEARS AND VANILLA 

This is the recipe that caused the drama on Friday morning because I couldn't find Gorgonzola and assumed blue cheese would do. It won't. To research I got four recipes for Gorgonzola panna cotta and four for blue cheese panna cotta, converted all the liquids to the same amount and then compared amounts of cheese. Bottom line? On average Gorgonzola used three times more cheese than blue cheese. So blue cheese is three times stronger, gettit?

90g Blue Cheese

600ml Cream

4 Leaves gelatin

4 Tinned pears drained

1.5c Maple syrup

1 Vanilla pod

1 Orange juice only

Soak the gelatin leaves in water for at least 5 minutes. Process the gorgonzola together with 200ml of the cream until smooth. Bring the rest of the cream to the boil, remove from the heat, add the gorgonzola mixture and stir until smooth. Stir in the gelatin leaves until melted. Oil panna cotta moulds, pour in the mixture and leave to set in the fridge for at least 4 hours.

Slice pears and pour over the maple syrup and juice. Cut the pod in half then slice open and scrape the seeds out onto the pears. Tuck the pods under the pears and bake at 200C for 20-30 minutes.

Yumbalaya

OK don't tell anyone but until about 5 minutes ago I didn't know where rice comes from. I know. Shocking. I just never thought about it past the fact that it comes from the shelf and that (according to the dregs of my memory of school geography) it arrived there via rice paddy. I started reading Wiki to get more information but I soon started snoring. Then I Googled it and found that these days everyone just quotes Wiki. More snoring. But just in case you're also blonde I roused myself long enough to learn that rice is the seed from the rice plant. Oh, and that "the edible seed is a grain (caryopsis) 5–12 mm (0.20–0.47 in) long and 2–3 mm (0.079–0.12 in) thick". Zzz...

But I digress. The only reason I cared where rice comes from was because I wanted to make Jambalaya. Having heard of it and seen it I was curious as to how it compared to Paella. And of course once I went down that road I wondered how those two differ from Biryani. And what about Kedgeree. And Pilaf. And Risotto. Before I knew it I had broken out into a cold sweat of bewildered fascination. I'm serious, it took the better half of a bottle of gin to compose myself.
 
I appreciate that most people won't share my awe. It's food. It contains rice. So what, right? But think about it. We're talking about dishes from America, Spain, India, Scotland, Turkey and Italy. And what they all have in common is an itsy-bitsy little seed 5-12 mm (0.20–0.47 in) long and 2–3 mm (0.079–0.12 in) thick that made it's way around the world all the way from China. 

And that's AWESOME.

xx
J 

JAMBALAYA

8 Deboned chicken thighs cut into bite sized pieces
500g Chorizo sliced
500g Bacon roughly chopped
750g Prawns shelled, topped and tailed
3 Onions roughly chopped
2 Sticks celery roughly chopped
1 Red pepper roughly chopped
1 Green pepper roughly chopped
4 Spring onions chopped (white and green separated)
2T Paprika
1T Dried thyme
3T Creole seasoning (or 1.5T chilli)
1/2t Cayenne pepper
6 Cloves garlic sliced
4 Bay leaves
3 Tins tomatoes
750ml Chicken stock
3c Uncooked long grain rice

Fry the bacon and chicken until browned then add the chorizo and fry for another couple of minutes. Add the onions, celery, peppers and the white of the spring onions and fry until softened. Add the spices and mix through. Turn up the heat and add the tomatoes and chicken stock. Bring to the boil then turn down and simmer for about half an hour. Add three cups of rice and continue simmering until the rice is just done (but not stodgy). Add boiling water as required to prevent burning and ensure the rice cooks through (I ended up adding about a litre) but remember you want a stew not a soup. Once the rice is done stir in the prawns and cook for another 5 minutes. Stir through the green part of the spring onions and serve.

Curiosity Did All That

I'm too chickenshit to be an experimental cook. When I do bugger around with ingredients I'm relatively conservative with my choices. (Except for chilli, I can't be trusted around chilli). But I've seldomly found myself tempted to add apple jelly to a béchamel sauce or cumin to chocolate muffins.

I think I'm probably mostly afraid of failure. My unsuccessful dishes haunt me. I'm appalled by them. Affronted. Aghast. Asmidgemelodramatic some might say. But there have been, and still are, incredible people out there who aren't scared. Who don't care if they don't get it right.

They throw things in and pour things on top and (God forbid) leave things out just to see what will happen. They break the mould, stir things up and boldly go where no man has gone before.

There's a saying about standing on the shoulders of giants. That's what careful cooks like me do every time we take to the stove. Thanks to those brave, daring cooks who went before us and did the hard work because they were driven by culinary curiosity that far superseded their fear of failure.

I told my dad there was no way a rockhard-latex-oozing-fig could be made edible. I was wrong. There's no way I would've ever thrown together the ingredients for marshmallows unless I was on LSD. And lemon vodka instead of a lemon in vodka? I'd have to drink half the bottle before that occurred to me.

So thank you, to those who dared, so scaredy-cats like me, get to be amazed.

xx
J

PRESERVED FIGS 

1kg Unripe figs

1t Bicarb

1.25kg Sugar

Slice the tops off the figs. Then stab each one with a screwdriver or something relatively thick and scary. (From what I understand this is the part that helps to get rid of all the disgusting gunk and taste. I dunno. I'm still freaked out that those rocks turned yummy and oozy. So don't take any chances and stab away.) Cover the figs with cold water, add the bicarb and leave to soak for at least an hour. Put a plate on top to force the figs underwater.

Drain the figs, put in a pot and cover with cold water. Bring to the boil then drain with cold water. Do this three times. The point is to once again get rid of the gunk. Put the figs in a pot with 1.25kg sugar and 3c water and bring to the boil. Add 2T lemon juice and 1T vanilla essence and turn down to a simmer for about 2 hours. Keep and eye and add water if necessary - you want syrup not glue - and more lemon and vanilla to taste if required.

VANILLA & LEMON MARSHMALLOWS

10 Leaves gelatin
1c Sugar
1/3c Glucose
4 Egg whites
Pinch of salt
2t Vanilla extract / 3t Lemon juice plus a few drops yellow food colouring
1c Icing sugar
1c Maizena

Soak the gelatin in 2c water for at least 5 minutes. Melt the sugar and glucose with 1/3c water and bring up to 118C. (Don't even try this without a candy thermometer). Meanwhile beat the egg whites until stiff. Try and time it with the sugar syrup reaching the correct temperature. Continue beating at a high speed and pour the syrup in slowly. Melt the gelatin leaves over medium heat in about 2T water then add to the egg whites. Keep beating until the mixing bowl is completely cool to the touch.

(At this point I split the mixture and added 1t vanilla extract to the one and 1.5t lemon juice to the other as well as the food colouring.) Sift together half the mixture of icing and maizena to cover the bottom of a tray completely then pour the marshmallow mix in. Or you can, like me, drop blobs onto the tray. Leave to dry uncovered for about 4 hours, then dust with the rest of the icing/maizena mix.  

LIMONCELLO

Zest of 4 lemons
1.5c Vodka
1c Sugar
4T Lemon juice

Add the zest to the vodka and put in a glass jar with a tight lid. Put in a cool, dark place for about two weeks, shaking the jar every couple of days. After two weeks heat the sugar and water until the sugar is dissolved. Allow to cool down completely. Add the lemon juice then combine with the zest/vodka mix. Put back in your cool, dark place for another 4 - 6 weeks. Serve ice cold. (I'm only on day 2 of the 2 weeks, I'll report back if I make it for another 6 - 8 weeks...)

Afrikaners is Plesierig

That's the first line of a traditional Afrikaans song. It means Afrikaners are nice people. OK, maybe that's stretching the translation a bit. The meaning of "plesierig" is probably more "fun" than "nice".

But I maintain. (Most) Afrikaners are nice people. It's easy to overlook because the Afrikaners' legacy as white self-proclaimed overlords of this country has tainted us all. There are no excuses and I won't get political - I hate politics more than sprouts. All I want to say is that I believe, I'd LIKE to believe, that every culture has a good and a bad. And when you average it out I believe every culture has more Mandelas than Malemas. 

I frequently forget I'm Afrikaans. Often on purpose. My dad can quote CJ Langenhoven till he's oranje blanje blou in the face I just don't like the sound of the language. Add Kurt Darren to the mix and I have an uncontrollable desire to knock myself unconscious with an epidural and some tik.

But this weekend I went home and it was Gatiep and Maraai on the one side and Rapport and Huisgenoot on the other and Noot vir Noot in the middle. And it reminded me how nice, how incredible NICE Afrikaners are. We have terrible taste in clothing and music but we're funny and we like to laugh whether it's with others or at ourselves. We're loyal and helpful and kind and yes, we're also fun - we'll drop everything for a dop 'n a chop.

I'm going to try really hard to forget what some assholes did to this country in the name of my culture. Just because I share that culture doesn't mean I'm a bad person. And neither are most of us. So give us another chance. And don't knock us till you've tried us. After all - we're plesierig! And we make bliksemse lekker kos.

xx

J

VETKOEK WITH CURRY MINCE

Vetkoek

500g Flour

5ml Salt

5ml Sugar

5g Instant dry yeast

30g Butter

325ml Warm water

Sift the flour then add the salt, sugar and yeast. Rub the butter in (you can grate it if it's hard). Add the warm water bit by bit and mix until you have a soft dough. Knead on a floured surface, adding more flour if it gets sticky, for about 10 minutes. Put in an oiled bowl and cover. Leave to rest for about half an hour. Knock down and divide into about 16 balls. Allow to rise again for another half an hour. Deep fry at 170C for about 4 minutes. You can serve with curry mince or lather with marge and jam and lots of cheese. 

Curry Mince

500g Beef mince

1 Onion finely chopped

1 Chilli deseeded and chopped

1T Curry powder/Mother-in-Law if you're daring

1t Turmeric

1/4t Ground coriander

1t Whole cumin

2 Bay leaves

2 Grated carrots

2 Peeled potatoes in small cubes

2T Chutney (Mrs Balls, of course)

2.5T White vinegar

1c Frozen peas

Fry the onion and chilli until soft. Add all the spices and fry for another couple of minutes. Add the mince and cook until no longer pink. Add the rest of the ingredients except the peas as well as 1/2c water and allow to simmer for half an hour. Add the peas and simmer for another 5 minutes. Season to taste. 

SOUTTERT

 Crust

2c Flour
125g Butter
1t Salt
1t Baking powder
2t Sugar

Sift together the flour, salt and baking powder. Rub the butter into the flour until well mixed. Add the sugar. Press the mixture into a pie dish. (It will seem dry but the butter will melt in the oven and make a delicious crust.)

Filling
 
3T Butter
1/3C Flour
600ml Milk
1t English mustard powder
1/2t Cayenne pepper
1 Onion roughly chopped
1/2 Yellow pepper roughly chopped
1c Bacon roughly chopped
1/2c Ham roughly chopped
1/2c Viennas sliced
1c Grated cheddar
1T Parsley chopped
1T Chives chopped
3 Eggs whisked

Melt the butter then add the flour to make a roux. Fry for a couple of seconds then slowly add the milk, making quite a thick white sauce. Season to taste and add the mustard and cayenne. Fry the pepper, onion and bacon until cooked. Add to the white sauce together with all the other ingredients except the chives. Pour into the pie dish and sprinkle with the chives and a little more cayenne. Bake for around 30 minutes at 180C.