Cox Ina House

Or rather, Coxinhas, (pronounced Co-shi-nas). With little Miss Cox visiting. Mommy Cox is away on temporary assignment and I have become temporary mother. It's high up there with one of the hardest things I've ever done. 

I've always been terrified of becoming a mother. I was convinced I'd screw my child up royally with my insecurities and my neuroses and my fears. I'd make her feel as fat as I feel, as ugly as I feel, as convinced no one will ever love her as I feel. So I left that job to the better people, the more qualified people, who deserved to have a fragile life in their hands and who were able to protect and care for it without cracking it or irreparably destroying it. 

But a couple of years ago I was asked to become godmother to a ready-baked 8 year old and instead of remembering my destructive tendencies I said yes. So here I am. With child, so to speak. And goddamnit doesn't she come all packaged and wrapped and ribboned with insecurities and neuroses and fears! What in God's name am I supposed to do with that? I can tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to put her to bed, take an Alzam and drink a lot of gin to drown out the nauseating fear. I'm sure Dr Phil would have a better plan of action, but he's welcome to drag his bald ass over here and implement it. (I'll be the one on the Lay-Z-Boy in the corner, just follow the sound of clinking ice cubes.)

I want her mother to come back. I want her mother to come back and be her mother. I want to be the godmother/aunty that buys presents and takes her out or has her over for the night to watch Finding Nemo and eat enough sweets to make her puke. But holding her precious soul in my hands? 

No thank you. Mommy Cox come home. Please.

xx

J

COXINHAS

1L Milk
1T Butter
5 Chicken stock cubes
1kg Flour
400g Chicken breasts
1 Onion chopped
2 Garlic cloves crushed
200ml Tomato puree
2T Parsley chopped
1/2c Spring onion chopped
100g Philadelphia cream cheese
300g Breadcrumbs
2L Sunflower oil
Tabasco & Limes

Pour boiling water over the chicken breasts until just covered and crumble in 1 stock cube. Simmer slowly for 10 minutes, allow to cool then shred. Fry onion and garlic in a bit of olive oil until soft. Add the chicken, tomato puree, parsley, spring onions, crumble in 2 stock cubes and season. In a large saucepan bring the milk, butter and 1t salt to a boil. Turn the heat down low, add all the flour in one go and stir for 10 minutes (you better have been doing weights cause this gets pretty difficult!). Switch off the heat and allow to cool slightly then knead for 5 minutes while still in the pan. Roll the dough into golf-sized-balls. Use your thumb to make a dent in the middle then pinch it until you have the shape of a deep bird's nest with the walls being a bit less than a centimetre in thickness. Place 1t of cream cheese inside, followed by 1-2t of the chicken mixture. Pinch the top together and keep shaping until you have a teardrop. Dip in ice water, then in crumbs, then deep fry until golden. Serve with lots of lime and lots of Tabasco.

Chewing

I'm making granola bars. Who would've thunk I've thunk tho low. Don't worry, I haven't gone over to the other side. It's a supportive gesture, like chicken soup for flu. I'm making strong healthy snacks so my friend can become strong and healthy.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about us. Pondering our friendship. Twenty years of it. Loving someone for 20 years shouldn't be scoffed at. But what do you do when it gets so hard that you don't know how to do it anymore. What if you give in abundance but you get scraps in return? What if you keep offering but you keep getting rejected? What if the lies outweigh the promises and the terror outweighs the trust? What do I do when I'm living in fear but you won't take my hand.

All I know is I love you. My memories of you sploshing with me in the rain puddles in front of Huis Piron are indelible. We never wore rose-tinted glasses for each other. It took me goddamn hours to scrape your puke out of the crevices of the car windows (you just HAD to have viennas didn't you). We're both spectacularly flawed. We've both screwed up solidly and frequently. But our love never wavered. 

I'm inconsolably angry at myself that I waited so long to get you the help you needed, which I now fear may be my last gift to you. Because I'm not sure I have the strength to see if you take it.

xx
J 

GRANOLA BARS

1&2/3c Oats

1/2c Sugar

1/3c Oat flour (you can ground normal oats if you can't find the flour)
1/2t Salt
1/4t Ground cinnamon
1/2c Wheat germ

1/2c Dried cherries

1/2c Dried cherries

1c Walnuts

1/2c Pecan nuts

1/2c Coconut

1/3c Peanut butter
2t Vanilla essence

6T Melted butter
1/2c Honey
2T Treacle sugar

2T Water

Mix all the ingredients together, use your hands to scrunch if necessary. Butter a pan, line with wax paper and butter again. Spread the mixture and press down firmly. Bake at 180C for 30 minutes or so, until it just starts to brown. Cool completely then put in the fridge, it's less likely to crumble when being cut if it's cold.

Stewing

Yesterday was National Braai Day. I should be making my awesome potato salad. Or researching salsas for wors. Hell. I'm a coocoocook. I should be MAKING the flippen wors. But I don't want to. I'm stewing.

What I had to do this week was horrible. It was good it was right but it was horrible. What I have to feel after this week is good. But I don't. I'm not sure what I feel. It's stewy - a whole bunch of hodgepodge feelings all mixed up together. 

(Some kind of spin on atchar would be good. Lots of chilli of course. Not too chunky or it won't stick to the wors. Of course I'll have to bake bread. Maybe I'll try that one with the roast fennel inside. Depends on what you're braaing of course, pork is more peppadewy than fennelly.)

But I'm not making braai side dishes. I'm making a stew. Not even a happy stew but a sad, confused, angry stew. And I don't even want to make it. Who put ME in charge of the bloody stew anyway? Why couldn't all the other people make the stew? Why did I have to be the one to do the horrible deed while everyone just stood and watched?

So I'm stewing. I'm stewing. I made what in theory should be a perfect stew but it oozed and wilted and tasted bland and bitter. I'm so stewing I can't cook.

And THAT, people, in my world, is a sign of a broken heart.

xx
J

Pasties & Poppers

I made this great recipe for Ravioli of Slow-Baked Lamb with Sage Butter. Isn't it pretty?

It was disgusting.

However, the lamb was wonderful, so I'll give the details for that part of it - it's a great go-to roast lamb recipe.

The whole palava gave me some pause though. You might think I'm coocoo but I believe you can find metaphors for life in everything. Even in a leg of lamb. You see, in order to make those vile little raviolis I spent hours roasting an entire leg of lamb. And all that effort for nothing sounded familiar.

Lately I've been going through a bit of a personal "issue". And like with the lamb, what I put into this "issue" is so much much more than what I get out of it. If after all that effort my ravioli (i.e. my reward - in case you're having a bit of a slow metaphoric day), was wonderful, then it would make all that lamb roasting worthwhile. But if my reward sucks, then maybe I should be rethinking all that effort I put in. 

Here's another thought. Having realised that the ravioli sucked I could have given up. Nothing wrong with a leg of lamb on its own. But I wasn't ready to give up. So I made lamb pasties.

So now the only question left is this: Do I give up because my effort isn't rewarded. Or do I try a different recipe? 

xx

J

LEG OF LAMB

1.5kg Leg of lamb

4 Carrots roughly chopped

2 Onions roughly chopped

1 Head of garlic halved

2c White wine

Handful of thyme

Preheat oven to 250C. Oil and season the lamb. Place the carrots, onions and garlic in a roasting dish and put the lamb on top. Roast uncovered for 30 minutes. Turn the heat down to 160C. Add the wine and thyme, cover tightly with foil and roast for about 2 hours. Remove the lamb and strain out the vegetables, retaining the juices. Allow to cool down so you can remove the fat. Keep about 1c for the pasties.

LAMB PASTIES

200g Flour

110g Butter chopped

250g Cooked lamb chopped

2t Fresh mint chopped

2T Onion chopped

1/2c Peas

2 Potatoes chopped

1/2c Cream

Egg

Sift the flour and crumble with the butter. Add 2T water and keep mixing until you have everything incorporated. If you need more water add it 1t at a time you want it firm not runny. Cover with clingwrap and put in the fridge for 30 minutes.

In the meantime boil the potatoes in beef stock until just done and drain. Fry the onion in a little butter until soft. Add the potatoes, lamb, peas, cream and a cup of the lamb juices. Thicken with maizena. Stir in the mint.

Roll out the dough and cut into 4 rounds about 16cm or so. Divide the lamb mixture between the rounds. Dampen the edges, fold over and crimp together. Give it a slice to let the steam out and brush with the beaten egg. Bake at 220C for about 20 minutes.

PRAWN POPPERS

400g Prawns
3/4c Breadcrumbs
1t Lemon juice
2 Egg yolks
Tabasco sauce
2T Spring onions chopped (green part only)
2 Beaten eggs

1/4c Yoghurt
1/4c Cream cheese
1t Dijon mustard
1t Worcestershire sauce

Fry the prawns in butter until done. Shell and chop up finely. Mix with the 1/2c breadcrumbs, the lemon juice, 2 egg yolks, spring onions and about 6 drops Tabasco sauce. Roll into 12 balls, dip in the beaten eggs, then in the 1/4c breadcrumbs. Put in the fridge for about 20 minutes. Mix together the yoghurt, cream cheese, mustard, Worcestershire sauce and season. I added about 10 more drops of Tabasco to the dip. (Living dangerously). Deep fry the balls. Serve with the dip, lemon and loads of Tabasco.  

We're Jamming

I love making jam. Even though I'm terrible at it. And I don't eat it. But not everything you do has to make sense. As long as you're jamming when you're doing it. Like Bob Marley says: "Ain't no rules, ain't no vow, we can do it anyhow...We're jamming till the jam is through."

I sincerely dislike reggae but I have so many happy memories of Bob. Or rather, I have so few memories of my many happy memories of Bob. I miss youth. I miss the crazy. I miss the fact that things didn't have to make sense. Hours of the day were irrelevant. Drugs and alcohol could pass through your body without blipping the radar. And rules and responsibility certainly didn't blip the radar. In retrospect - dangerous times. Yet somehow, life was just a little bit funnier back then.

One night I was with three guys. (*No, not that way - even crazy has its limits!). The four of us drank enough to make Midmar restock. Needless to say the evening isn't particularly clear but I remember Stag's Head. Pool. Boerie rolls. And somehow, the next morning, we had driven from Cape Town to Hermanus and were sitting in the car by some beach, smoking dope and staring pensively at the sea.

There was a sign near the ablution blocks. For some reason we started arguing about what it said. We all agreed that it said "The average water temperature is". What we couldn't agree on was what that average temperature was. We didn't even differ that much, a couple of degrees this way or that. But thanks to the smoking, this led to an inordinate amount of discussion and speculation. Finally, finally, it was decided that I had to go and look. Which I did. (After 20 minutes trying to figure out how to open the door.)

The sign said: "Thank you for your patience during the refurbishment of our ablution blocks".....

Oh yes. Life was definitely funnier back then. And it didn't need to make sense. Doing things for no other reason that it feels good? As Bob would say, "Right on mon..."

xx

J

*In the interest of full disclosure one of those guys was my boyfriend. And when he broke up with me I took revenge by hooking up with all of his friends, including the two in the car that day. Who happened to be brothers. So, uhm, crazy has its limits, but apparently not to a coocoocook scorned...

STRAWBERRY BLACK PEPPER & MINT JAM  

1.2kg Strawberries 

800g Sugar  

Juice of one lemon
10 Leaves of mint

15 Black peppercorns crushed
 

Remove the stems and cut the strawberries up in quarters. Put the strawberries with the sugar and lemon juice in a dish. Cover and leave to macerate overnight.

On day 2 put the strawberry mix in a pot and bring to a simmer. Put back in a dish and once again leave overnight.

On day 3 sieve the strawberry mix. Boil the syrup for 10 minutes. Add the strawberries, mint and pepper. Boil for another 5 minutes then remove from heat. Zap with a blender but only a little bit – you want some whole strawberries. Soak 4 gelatin leaves in cold water for 5 minutes. Add to the strawberry mix.

APRICOT & CHILLI JAM

2/3c Finely sliced dried apricot
3/4c White vinegar
3/4c White wine vinegar
1/2c Finely diced red onion  

1/2c Finely diced red pepper  

2T Finely diced chillis
6c Sugar
 

Put apricots into vinegars and leave for a few hours. Add sugar, onions, peppers and chilli. Bring mixture to a slow boil for 10 minutes. Soak 2 gelatin leaves in cold water for 5 minutes. Add to the apricot mix.  

PS - Taste and texture are never a  problem when I make jam but thickness is and I can't find bloody pectin in this country. You can try maizena or gelatin. If my amounts don't give you the consistency you want, add more leaves. 

Bye Bye Bin Laden

On the 10th anniversary of 9/11 I had my long anticipated "Osama-Bin-Laden-Is-Dead-New-York-New-York!!" party. In celebration of the death of a piece of shit and the unbelievable survival spirit of the unshakable New York State of Mind. And before you say it, before you even think it, politically incorrect can KISS my ASS.

In the words of my beloved Jon Stewart, political satirist and genius, on the day Bin Laden was finally annihilated:

"I suppose I should be expressing some ambivalence about the targeted killing of another human being...and yet...uh NO. Last night was a good night. And not just for New York or DC or America, but for HUMAN people."

That ugly scumsucking marianatrenchdwelling creature did not care who was in the Twin Towers or on the planes or in the Pentagon. He killed regardless of religion, race or nationality. Regardless of whether they had kids, parents or dogs. 

So for my party, I celebrated New York, cooked what I consider to be their dishes and hung up balloons in USA colors. And I thought a lot, a LOT, about what it would have been like for me if I were walking down Adderley Street, and a plane flew into a building in Cape Town. If I saw what normal average people like you and me saw, on what should have been a normal day, when their city was destroyed and people fell from the sky.

So for my party, I rejoiced, because I know this for sure: Wherever his filthy soul went when he died, it was met by all those people he murdered. And he will know every burn and every fear and every agony and every unspeakable pain they felt. I do hope he has a high tolerance for pain though. Because eventually he will also be met by their parents, their children, their friends and (God help him) their dogs... 

xx

J

CORN DOGS

20 x 5cm Hot Dogs (I got chicken ones because my guests don't eat pork. Whatever you buy try to get high quality - you want a crunch in the skin or don't bother)

70ml Maizena

70ml Flour

5ml Sugar

5ml Baking Powder

1 Egg

70ml Milk

Heat oil to medium. Mix all the ingredients together to form a paste and season. Spear hot dogs with toothpicks and roll in maizena to ensure the batter sticks. Fry until nicely browned. I served then with Tomato, Mustard and Chilli Sauce. 

CHICKEN PARMIGIANA

1/4 c Basil

3 Cloves garlic sliced

3 Anchovies

1 Chilli

2 x 400g tins Chopped Tomatoes

150g Breadcrumbs

1/4c Thyme

0.5c grated Parmesan

1 Lemon

100g Flour

2 Eggs

800g Veal/pork/chicken flattened to 2 cm

125g Buffalo mozzarella

Pick the leaves off the basil and put in water to keep fresh. Chop the stalks and fry for a few minutes with the olive oil, garlic & anchovies. Prick the chilli several times and add it to the pan. Fry for a minute then add the tomatoes. Boil, turn down heat, then simmer for 20 minutes. Season. (BTW this is my go-to recipe whenever I need a great tomato sauce).

Mix the breadcrumbs with the thyme, lemon zest & parmesan. Season the flour with salt and pepper. Dip the meat into the flour, then egg, then breadcrumb mixture. Heat a good lug of olive oil and fry until golden (but not cooked). Spread tomato sauce in a dish. Lay the escalopes on top. Tear mozzarella over it and dot with basil. Bake for 20 minutes at 200C. I served mine with mash. 

NEW YORK CHEESECAKE

350g Digestive biscuits

120g Melted butter

900g Low fat cream cheese

150g Caster sugar

5 Large eggs

125ml Lime juice

Zest of 1 lime

3 Large egg whites

110g Caster sugar

40g Coconut

Set oven to 160C and butter a cake tin. Put the biscuits in a P&P bag, picture Osama and smash it until fine. Mix with the melted butter. Squash it down into the cake tin then put it into the fridge while you do the rest.

Put the cream cheese in a food processor and give it a whizz. Add the sugar, eggs & lime juice. Pour into the biscuit base and bake for 50 minutes. It's gotta wobble so keep an eye and don't overdo. Remove from oven and let it rest outside for at least 15 minutes. Turn the oven up to 220C.

Whisk the egg whites for the meringue until you have soft peaks, then add the caster sugar bit by bit until it's thick and glossy. Fold in the coconut and spread onto the cheesecake. Bake for 5 minutes but DO NOT take your eye off it, meringue is a bastard, much like, uhm, oh yeah, Osama!!

Let the cheesecake cool down then grate on the lime zest and put it in the fridge for a few hours. 

PS - These recipes are from Jamie's America - no need to mess with perfection.

Battle Cries

The Springboks have landed on enemy soil, ready to do battle. A battle I'm not sure I'm ready for. I'm still suffering from PTSD following the Cricket World Cup. The flashbacks, the trauma, the pounding heart, the dripping sweat, the violent projectile vomiting...

Ah yes, I have many such happy World Cup memories. I remember with unfortunate clarity the day I met Fabs' parents and her baby brother. Cricket World Cup 1992. A tormenting ordeal during which rain and shortsighted moronic rules required us to get 22 runs off 1 ball. To be fair, it wasn't England's fault that they won. To be fair, who gives a shit. I came storming down the passage, flung Fabs' door open and with livid fury screamed "THOSE *%$# ENGLISH *%$#!!! (Oh and trust me, those were *%$# hectic swearwords...). Her parents stared at me blankly. They had gone into shock. They proceeded to howdoyoudo me kindly, but their skin was pale and grey, their hands cool and clammy, their eyes glassy and dilated. Ah yes, good times...

So here we are again. World Cup time. Those glorious few weeks marked by battle cries - mine. The sobbing and wailing can be heard blocks away. The KFC staff across the road sit and smoke outside, waiting for customers that will never venture anywhere near Obz again.  

There is nothing I can do. I can't even pray, God doesn't take sides. But I can cook. And cook I will as my nerves unravel and shred with every game. On Friday I started with Bobotie to channel some Afrikaner spirit to the Boys. But soon I might have to serve a kangaroo on a stick with a kiwi down it's flippen throat. And when I say kiwi I don't mean the fruit, I don't mean the bird - I mean the Richie McCaw. 

Let the battle begin.

xx
J

BOBOTIE WITH YELLOW RICE

8T Oil
2kg Mince
3 Onions chopped
2T Butter
4 Garlic cloves crushed
4t Salt
2t Pepper
4T Curry
4t Turmeric
2t Cinnamon
4T White wine
5 Slices white bread
3T Sugar
4t Apricot jam
5T Chutney
1c Milk
500ml Buttermilk
8 Eggs
10 Bay leaves
2T Butter

Soak the bread in the milk. Fry the mince in the oil until browned. Remove from the pan and fry the onions and garlic slowly in the butter until soft. Add the mince, salt, pepper, curry, turmeric, cinnamon and white wine and fry for a few minutes. Crumble the bread and add with the milk. Add the sugar, apricot jam and chutney and mix well. Spread into an oven dish. Mix the buttermilk with the eggs and pour over. Use a fork to ensure it soaks through. Decorate with the bayleaves and dot with the 2T butter. Bake at 180C for about 40 minutes.  

Yellow Rice
  
2c Rice
5c Water
2t Salt
4t Turmeric
4 Sticks cinnamon
1c Seedless raisins
4T Honey/syrup
4T Butter

Boil the rice in the water with the salt and turmeric until done then rinse. Add 1/2c boiling water with the cinnamon and raisins, stir and cover. Simmer on medium for another 10 minutes until the raisins are puffy. Stir in the honey/syrup and butter.