Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your kind words following my last post. It helps to think of so many people sending messages of support and sympathy to Jerome’s family and friends. I’m grateful that my words were able to convey even a little of the fantastic fellow Jerome was – and remains in the memories of those who knew him.
It also helps to focus on the moments in each day that sing of joy and sunlight, the moments that overlay the creeping bleakness. Moments like a coffee catch-up with a friend I haven’t seen in months. Or cuddles with my dog, who has become a little old lady almost without me noticing. Texts with friends that skirt (and at times fully cross) the borders of appropriateness, and thereby make me gasp with laughter.
A beautiful rose in my parents’ garden, seen for the first time upon walking outside to chase the warmth that was trickling through the kitchen window.
A forest of rosemary growing near the rose; a forest that enveloped me with its heady, spicy, perfume, and then lent its aromatics to the dinner I made for my brother and me.
Laughing so hard with my brother than I almost choked on the below spicy vegetable lentil soup, twice. The comfort of having my brother here for the weekend, both for Easter (Happy Easter/Passover, by the by) and the funeral.
It helps to know there is light still, even if it is ephemeral.
And though we can’t grasp intangible light, we can at least let it suffuse us when it shines.
Spicy Vegetable Lentil Soup
Serves 2
1 tb olive oil
1 red onion, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
2 tsp (or more; I’ll do more next time) fresh rosemary, finely chopped
1 large (150g) carrot, chopped
1 tsp sambal oelek, to taste
1 tin (410g) chopped tomatoes
1/2 cup (100g) French puy lentils
2 cups vegetable stock
half a medium head of broccoli (150g), chopped
salt, pepper, fresh herbs, or any garnishes you’d like, to taste.
In a large pot, heat the oil over medium heat and then add the onion, garlic, and rosemary. Stir until the onion begins to turn translucent. Add the carrot and sambal oelek, stirring until the carrot begins to soften.
Add the tomatoes, lentils, and stock, and stir well. Bring to the boil and then reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 30 minutes.
Add the broccoli and cover again, cooking for about five minutes more or until the broccoli is cooked to your liking (I prefer my broccoli to have some bite to it).
Season to taste, then serve. Once you’ve sat down at the table, I highly recommend whipping out a little tub of yellow powder, piling several spoonfuls of said powder into your bowl, and then leaning towards your dining partner to offer, in a low and somewhat creepy voice, “nutritional yeaaaaaast?”. If your dining partner is anything like my has-no-idea-of-wacky-vegan-condiments brother, much hilarity will ensue.
Question Time: Can you believe I just posted a savoury recipe? No, me neither. And here’s another question, for good measure: What did you get up to on Easter Sunday?
Today, I have the great honour of presenting my interview with Kirrily Cornwell, a fellow Canberran who was recently crowned the Australian Good Taste Home Cook of the Year 2011. Not only did Kirrily beat out nearly 5000 other competitors with her sheer cooking awesomeness, but she’s also a wonderful mother, world-traveller, and talented singer (she’s even performed in a Canberran production of Fiddler on the Roof, which you know is dear to my heart). Enjoy getting to know Kirrily; I certainly did!
Hannah: Congratulations Kirrily! Your winning dish of Salmon with White Wine Risoni and Fennel Orange Salad looks phenomenal, and I love that a fellow Canberran won Australian Good Taste Home Cook of the Year. How did it feel to be announced the winner?
Kirrily: Thanks so much Hannah. I can honestly say irrevocably and without a shadow of a doubt I was shocked beyond belief when they called my name out as the winner. It sounds like a cliché but I didn’t expect to get as far as the semi-finals, let alone the finals, let alone win!
Hannah: You were selected as one of six finalists from almost 5000 entries. What led you to enter, and what inspired your winning dish?
Kirrily: I buy the magazine on a regular basis and when I got the issue which started the competition, the Reader’s Issue in June, I thought there were so many great recipes. I really enjoyed bringing my own touch to the recipes and it was a real learning process taking photos and composing shots of food (I had a couple of rejects that never made the cut because they just didn’t look good in photos!) (Hannah: I hear you there, sister!)
When I was selected as a semi-finalist and asked to submit my own recipe I was really happy. I wanted to do something a little bit different with pasta, and it seemed to come to me fairly easily with the ingredients just reflecting the flavours of spring. I did trial the dish with my family, and the salmon got the big thumbs up!
Hannah: Travel plays a key role in your love of cooking. What are your favourite food-related travel experiences?
Kirrily: It’s so hard to narrow down! The fresh produce at markets in France and Italy blew me away. My sister is a great cook and we stayed in a villa in Tuscany with her and her husband and I’ll never forget cooking over a barbecue with candles, cooking risotto with fresh porcini mushrooms, and eating the best gelato in the world in San Gimignano. (Hannah: Ooh, if only I’d tried the gelato in Sin Gimignano! I definitelylovedthegelatoinFlorence…)
I also love the memory of cooking in the tiny, tiny kitchen of a medieval cottage in the south of France. I love duck and it was so great to get my hands on the best duck and all the other fresh produce I needed to make yummy food.
Wow the list goes on, awesome pizza in Venice, pepper crab in Singapore, French onion soup in Paris, fresh waffles in Belgium (not to mention the chocolate, beer, and fried goodness!), tapas in Spain, kebab ‘sandwich’ and mint tea in Morocco… I probably should stop or this article will go on forever! (Hannah: Don’t stop! I’m lost in dreams…)
Hannah: Now, let’s talk Canberra! Do you have any favourite restaurants here?
Kirrily: I’m a bit sad to say this but we hardly ever eat out! I’d have to ask my mum who eats out much more than I do lol! (Hannah: My mum eats out more than I do too!) They go to The Ridge at Farrer Shops all the time, apparently it’s got great food. Jehangir at Swinger Hill has really, really good Indian food. I love Thai Spice for a good Laksa, and just along from there the Chinese Kitchen has the best bbq’d duck and pork.
Hannah: How did your family react to the news that you’d gained the coveted title of Home Cook of the Year 2011?
Kirrily: My husband was so funny he swore a LOT! (he won’t be happy I told you that).All the plans of me getting a taxi home from the airport changed and he and the girls came out to pick me up, flowers and Moet in hand (Hannah: Aw! That’s so lovely!) Everyone has been so excited and proud, I had to tell my mum she had to stop telling people because we weren’t supposed to let on until after the November issue was released (that was hard!)
Hannah: Do you have any food-related plans for the future?
Kirrily: To me there is a fundamental difference between being someone who wants a career in the food industry and someone who just loves cooking. The food I cook is made to be shared with family and friends, prepared and shared around a big table of food and drink and laughter and fun. I am also determined that my kids have an appreciation for different types of food and where their food comes from so that is one of my main motivations behind cooking. I can’t really see myself as someone working in a professional kitchen. Unless later on in life we end up retiring to the French countryside and decide to run our own bed and breakfast!
Hannah: Before I let you go, I must ask the most important question of all. Peanut butter: smooth or crunchy?
Kirrily: Most definitely definitely definitely crunchy! My name is Kirrily and I’m a peanut butter addict… (Hannah: Welcome to the club! I knew I liked you for a reason.)
Hannah: Thank you so much for your time, Kirrily! And thank you for the fantastic recipe below, too. It’s been a blast getting to know you, and I look forward to meeting up to sing some Fiddler on the Roof together soon…
Smoked Tuna & Risoni Croquettes with Baby Rocket & Cherry Tomato Salad and a Garlic Aioli
Recipe by Kirrily Cornwell, Australian Good Taste Home Cook of the Year
(makes around 12-14)
Punnet of cherry tomatoes
4 garlic cloves – unpeeled
Balsamic vinegar
1 cup San Remo risoni
4 eggs
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
1 tbsp lemon zest
1/4 cup chopped fresh dill
2 tins smoked tuna slices – flaked
1 cup plain flour
2 cups breadcrumbs
Canola oil for deep frying
3/4 cup whole-egg mayonnaise
Olive oil to serve
Preheat oven to 140°C. Line oven tray with baking paper, place cherry tomatoes and garlic on tray, spray with olive oil and season with salt. Drizzle balsamic over tomatoes and bake for 40mins or until garlic is tender, ensuring tomatoes stay intact.
Meanwhile, cook risoni in salted boiling water until al dente, transfer to a large bowl, add parmesan and set aside to cool slightly.
Add two eggs, lightly beaten, tuna, dill and lemon zest to risoni mixture. Stir to combine. Season to taste and refrigerate until cooled completely (add some plain flour is mixture is too moist).
Line tray with baking paper. Place flour, two eggs (lightly beaten) and breadcrumbs in separate bowls. Roll 2-3 tablespoons of risoni mixture into a croquette shape, dust lightly with flour shaking off excess, dip into egg then roll in breadcrumbs until coated. Refrigerate for 30 mins.
Heat oil in pan over medium-high heat (to a depth of around 10cms). Heat to around 180 degrees. Cook croquettes in batches until golden, turning if necessary. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towel and keep warm.
To make aioli, peel slightly cooled garlic & blend in a food processor with mayonnaise until smooth. Season to taste.
Place baby rocket & tomatoes on a serving plate & drizzle with a little olive oil. Place 3-4 croquettes on plate & serve with aioli.
As I’ve mentioned here before, my [maternal] grandfather has been in hospital since the end of July. Last week, my [paternal] grandmother had bronchitis, took a fall, broke her nose, and also went to hospital. To complete the trifecta, my [maternal] grandmother (the lovely lady for whom I created my Date Coconut Cashew Energy Treats) is today going into hospital for hip replacement surgery.
As you can imagine, we’re all a bit worn out over here in Wayfaring Chocolateland, and life isn’t likely to get less hectic anytime in the near future.
Big thank you to my mum who, tonight while I was singing away my icky emotions,spent an hour rummaging through computer files to find me this photo.
Oh, and a second thank you to my mum for dressing me in the above clothing. Words cannot express how much I want that jumper back in my life, and how much I want to know what on earth its decorations are.
However, being hectic is a small price to pay for having my grandparents here, still, with me. I’d like to take this moment to send my Grandma S. a thousand hugs, a hundred bucketfuls of love, and countless dozens of firework-esque sparkling wishes for a speedy and smooth recovery.
I’m also grateful that Grandma S. was able to attend the Fathers Day dinner I cooked for my pa last Sunday. We started with a dish that could have gone horrifically wrong, seeing as I was making it up as I went along, but luckily for everyone at the table it was dazzling (if I do say so myself). There’s no picture of that Thai-Style Fish Pie with Coconut Mash, because I’m a nincompoop. For dessert, I made this Magical Flourless Three Ingredient Almond Cake (baked for 25 minutes). Dusted with icing sugar, it was also dazzling.
And Grandma, whenever you read this, rest assured I’m looking forward to cooking for you again soon. Soon.
Thai-Style Fish Pie with Coconut Potato Mash
Gluten-Free and Dairy-Free
Serves 4
1 tb olive oil or peanut oil
1 red onion, chopped
1 stick lemon grass, pale section only, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 tsp sambal oelek
500-600g white fish fillets, like ling, chopped coarsely
zest and juice (1/4 cup) of one lime
1 tb tamari
1 tb sweet chilli sauce
large handful fresh coriander leaves, chopped
slightly smaller handful mint leaves, chopped
500-600g potatoes, peeled
1/3 – 1/2 cup coconut milk, room temperature or slightly warmed
Preheat oven to 180°C (350°F). Grease an ovenproof circular dish (ours was perhaps 18cm in diameter, and 3-4cm deep).
In a large frying pan or wok over medium-high heat, heat oil and then tip in the onion, lemongrass, garlic, and sambal oelek, stirring for five minutes or so until onion is softened.
Stir in the fish and let it cook through, breaking up the fish with your stirring implement as it cooks.
Stir in the lime zest and juice, tamari, and sweet chilli sauce and let simmer for a minute or so, until the liquid is a little bit reduced but not all gone. Take off the heat and stir in the herbs, before spreading this mixture into the bottom of your ovenproof dish.
Meanwhile, chop your peeled potatoes and put them in a saucepan, cover with water, and bring to the boil. Reduce to a simmer and, with the saucepan half-covered, let the potatoes cook for about 18 minutes. Drain and either mash by hand or put through a ricer (a ricer is the only way I mash potatoes; it makes for perfectly smooth mash every time. Though, technically, what I use is a spätzle-maker), then add enough coconut milk to get a nice mash consistency.
Spread the mash evenly over the fish, run a fork over the top to rough it up a little, then bake for 20-30 minutes, until the mash is starting to turn golden.
Theme: Spice
Recipe: Sri Lankan Chicken and Cashew Curry
Cookbook: Curry in a Hurry
From around the age of ten to eighteen, I played clarinet. For the majority of these years, I was a member of a clarinet ensemble that would rehearse every second Friday night. Over the course of those almost-eight years, I transitioned from being one of the youngest members (which entailed a tendency to get attacks of the giggles on a regular, and likely very irritating, basis) to one of the most established and mature (hah! I still display a remarkable tendency to get the giggles…) clarinet players in the group.
What never changed, however, was my mother’s unfailing kindness in ensuring I had a hot dinner and, if I was lucky, dessert waiting for me when I arrived home at 9pm, tired from the rehearsal but also hyped up on the tea-with-four-billion-sugars that I would drink with my friends during the rehearsal break.
For some reason, the dish most intertwined in my mind with those late clarinet-playing nights is mum’s green curry chicken. I remember the strong smell of coconut enveloping me as I walked in the front door, and I remember the rich sauce soaking into basmati rice as I chatted to mum about my ability to fit eight spoonfuls of sugar into one tiny disposable polysterene cup of tea.
The recipe you see pictured above (and below), which I cooked with the Cookbook Challenge Spice theme in mind, is not a green curry chicken. It is, however, a chicken curry recipe that involves spices and coconut milk, and is best served over rice, so it’s almost the same thing. Right?
More importantly, this Sri Lankan Chicken and Cashew Curry is what I made for my parents upon their return from three weeks in Japan, so that they wouldn’t have to worry about cooking while they readjusted to the Aussie time zone and normal life. Sometimes what goes around comes around, in the best possible way.
In other words, this post is a way for me to say thank you to my parents for unfailingly supporting (and feeding) me in all my musical endeavours. They still do.
Sri Lankan Chicken and Cashew Curry
From Curry in a Hurry
Serves 4
See the other Cookbook Challenge Spice recipes here
1 tb coriander seeds
2 tsp cumin seeds
1/2 tsp fennel seeds
8 curry leaves, or 2 bay leaves
3 tb vegetable oil
1/2 – 3/4 cup raw cashews
4 – 5 chicken thigh fillets (could easily be made vegan by substituting tofu/tempeh/seitan/extra vegetables)
1 medium onion, peeled and sliced
1/2 tsp crushed garlic
1/2 tsp crushed ginger
1/2 tsp crushed chilli
1 whole clove
2 green cardamom pods
1 small cinnamon stick
2 cups coconut milk
1 1/4 tsp salt
Put the coriander, cumin, fennel and curry leaves in a medium frying pan or wok, without oil. Place over medium heat, shaking the pan frequently, until the spices are browns and aromatic (about 2 1/2 minutes). Pour into a spice grinder (Hannah’s note – I used a mortar and pestle, old-school style) and grind to a fine powder.
Add the oil to the pan and fry the cashews until golden brown. Removed with a slotted spoon and set aside. Cut the chicken into 2cm cubes and brown, in batches, in the same oil until golden brown and partially cooked (about 3 minutes). Remove.
Brown the onion over med-high heat for 3 minutes, stirring constantly. Add the garlic, ginger, and chilli, and cook for 30 seconds. Next add the clove, cardamom, cinnamon, and ground spices (Hannah’s note: the original recipe didn’t say when to add the ground spices, so this is just where I thought it made sense to add them!) and cook briefly.
Stir in the coconut milk and salt. Bring to the boil, reduce to a simmer for 1-2 minutes, then return chicken and cashews to pan and simmer gently for 10 minutes. Serve over rice, preferably accompanied by hyperactive chatter from a family member.
Question Time: Did your parents have a special dish they’d cook for you to support extra-curricular activities? (Wow. That’s a rather specific question…)
There is something uniquely wonderful about friends you’ve known for 80-100% of your life. I’m lucky enough to have several such friends, but today I’m going to tell you about Robert.
I’ll also tell you about the Chilli con Kangaroo-Carne Soup I made when Robert came over for dinner, but first I’ll explain why it makes me smile to have this fellow in my life.
Robert and I went through primary school, high school, college, and university together. In fact, we were in almost all the same classes throughout primary school and high school, which means we’ve racked up a goodly amount of shared memories. For example:
1. Robert saw me swan around as an incredibly bossy year six student determined to write and perform in various plays and musicals for school assemblies (I’m particularly proud of my musical about recycling), but he also saw me turn into a bit of a sadface hermit during years 11 and 12.
2. He forgave me for the time I pulled a chair out from under him as a joke, causing him to crack his head spectacularly hard on the wooden seat that was suddenly behind rather than under him.
3. I forgave him for the time I approached him and his new friends in year seven, and he told me to go away. (I’ll let you forget about that one eventually, Robert.)
4. In a moment of pure modesty in year two, Robert and I (along with my other friend in the photo above) formed a club called “The Smarties”. We told people the name referred to the chocolate lollies. That was only half-true.
5. He makes me laugh.
6. I think he’s awesome.
7. We both like to travel.
8. He’s keen for me to make him a crazy smoothie in my Vita-Mix, but he’s less sure about trying my raw food creations.
9. In year 10 I played Robert’s scorned lover in Oscar Wilde’s A Woman of No Importance, and I had to slap him with a glove during the final scene. I felt so guilty about doing so that I over-compensated, and ending up hitting him incredibly hard. I’m sorry, Robert.
10. He likes my cooking. A thousand points towards life for that one.
11. I think I’ll stop now. Otherwise, this will go on forever, and I’ve got a gospel performance to get ready for.
sour cream and grated cheese to garnish, and/or diced avocado, fresh coriander, and corn chips if you’re fancier than I am.
1. Heat oil in a heavy-based saucepan over medium-high heat, and cook the onion and garlic for a few minutes until softened. Tip in the kangaroo mince and cook, breaking up with a spoon or spatula, until browned through.
2.Add the stock, water, tomatoes, beans, oregano, and spices, and stir to combine. Bring the soup to the boil and then reduce heat, cover, and keep at a low simmer. The original recipe says to simmer for 45 minutes, but mine ended up simmering for about an hour and half. I added in a bit more water at the end, but the soup still ended up rather thick. Thick and delicious, I might add.
3. Serve hot with the toppings of your choice, preferably with a bottle of red brought by your long-time super-awesome friend and lots of laughter.
A beautiful rose in my parents’ garden, seen for the first time upon walking outside to chase the warmth that was trickling through the kitchen window.
A forest of rosemary growing near the rose; a forest that enveloped me with its heady, spicy, perfume, and then lent its aromatics to the dinner I made for my brother and me.
(Hannah: Aw! That’s so lovely!) Everyone has been so excited and proud, I had to tell my mum she had to stop telling people because we weren’t supposed to let on until after the November issue was released (that was hard!)
