Chicken Breast “Saltimbocca” stuffed with prunes
I know, I know; I haven’t blogged in months. For those that know me, you’ll be aware of the upheaval in the past few weeks but now that I’ve had time to recompose myself I’m back online.
This is a dish I made when I worked in Liverpool; it’s not strictly saltimbocca but the ingredients are more or less there. I used to serve this with Celeriac rémoulade but the seasonal lack of celeriac here in Australia meant that I made a simple coleslaw instead. (Don’t forget to add in a splash of lemon juice and some wholegrain mustard to give the salad a bit of a kick).
Lay the chicken breast down on the chopping board and carefully slice into t
he meat opposite the tenderloin, then gently press the prunes into the crevasse. Season well (not too much salt – you’re wrapping the breasts in salty proscuitto!) and sprinkle with freshly grated lemon zest, before tightly rolling the chicken in overlapping proscuitto sheets, accompanied by slivers of sage. Finally, wrap the whole thing in tin foil, as tightly as you can; into the preheated oven at around 200-220°C, for 15-20 minutes (depending on the size of your breasts).
When they’re cooked, slice them in half (both for presentation and to ensure the chicken is cooked), and enjoy.
Chilli, Coconut Cream and Mussels… Thai time!
Mussels are so flexible, they lend themselves to a huge array of flavours. 
When I lived in France, there was a restaurant on the main square (La Place Emile Zola) simply called “Les Moules Zola”. They served immense portions of almost any flavour you can imagine, with unlimited sides of fries. One that stuck in my memory was a creamy Normande sauce, with apple slices and a cider base. Nevertheless, with a kilo of mussels in my fridge, I figured I’d throw something easy together, and nothing felt more suited to the balmy evening than a mildly spiced creamy thai curry with a good hit of fresh coriander and lemongrass.
It’s a very easy method; especially if you cheat a little like I did. I would typically make homemade curry paste, but the jars are great anyway. Anyway; throw finely sliced chilli, crushed lemongrass, diced ginger, diced onion, a little garlic, and a tea spoon of red thai curry paste into a large hot pan and sweat gently. Toss in your cleaned mussels, half a glass of white wine and a tin of coconut cream and put the lid on to steam your seafood dinner.
Cooking will only take a few minutes, then you should stir through some roughly chopped or torn coriander and spoon into a couple of shallow bowls. There’s nothing much more to it; enjoy!
Home-baked bread – the best thing since sliced bread.
I am a huge fan of baking bread, it does takes a little work and a little love but every gram of energy you put into it, you’ll get back tenfold. We all know how good freshly baked bread can be from a bakery, but when it’s actually of your own hands, that first warm, soft bite will lift the weight of the world off your shoulders. I believe it was Andy (my first pastry chef) who showed me how to make bread when I lived in Liverpool (UK), however I cannot quite remember if it was a Brioche loaf or an Irish soda bread. Either way, this Pistachio Dukkah Bread is for you.
- 500g bread flour
- 310ml tepid water
- 7g dried yeast
- 2tsp fine sea salt
- 20g caster sugar
- 1½ tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
- 20g Dukkah (or rosemary, thyme, or any other dry flavouring you like)
It’s easy really. Combine the flour, salt, sugar and make a pile on a clean workbench, and create a well in the middle. Mix together your water and yeast then pour into the well, before gradually incorporating the flour to make a dough.
Needless to say, try not to break the wall of flour otherwise the water will spill all over kitchen! Although if you have a KitchenAid, use a dough hook attachment and the whole process is faster, easier and a whole lot less fulfilling.
When the dough is combined and workable, slowly knead it until you reach a smooth ball. If you need helping kneading then check out this useful video – I apologise for the American accent.
Now, carefully place your dough into a floured bowl, cover loosely with cling film and set in a warm-ish place (such as in an airing cupboard) for about two hours, until it is doubled in size, more or less. Turn it back out onto your bench and knock back, i.e. knead the dough again briefly so that the dough goes back to it’s original size. Return to your warm spot on a flat floured baking tray to prove again. If you want to, slash the top of the bread to a depth of about a centimetre after you’ve set it on the tray, before proving.
When the dough looks like it’s doubled in size again, gently slide into a preheated oven at 180°C and bake for around 20 minutes. Take a look (it shouldn’t be quite ready yet, but you’ll have filled your home with the smell of bread by now), and if you like you can brush the forming crust with water or eggwash and sprinkle with poppy seeds, sesame seeds, or whatever you like. The bread will need about another ten minutes in the oven; the best way to tell if it is actually finished is to hold it upside down (in a tea-towel, or you’ll burn your hand!) and tap the base – it should sound hollow if it’s cooked fully. 
When finished, cool on a wire rack and eat on the same day. Fresh bread such as this will not last as long as sliced supermarket bread, which is pumped full of preservatives. Like cake, you shouldn’t really slice until the bread has cooled, but there is nothing quite as satisfying as melting butter on fresh bread. Enjoy. Then have another slice.
Marinated Chicken & Mediterranean Cous-Cous
Summer is, I’m told, on it’s way, and I for one cannot wait. This Sunday we awoke to a glorious Sydney morning, and after visiting The Canopy for a frankly disappointing breakfast, we wandered home to relax. I immediately marinated the chicken marylands I’d bought, since with most marinades (excluding those with a lot of citrus juice in) will work better the longer they rest. This flavoursome recipe for roasted chicken is brilliant hot or cold and is especially great as a plateful of wings at a picnic.
Today I crushed up some coriander seed, star anise, cinnamon, garlic, ginger, cumin, and a touch of ground cayenne pepper. You can use almost anything, but try not to go over the top. Too much of any one ingredient or too many different powerful flavours will dominate the whole dish and you’ll barely be able to taste the juicy goodness of your chicken!
Mix your ground spices with plenty of sea salt, freshly cracked black pepper and olive oil, and toss your chicken through the marinade then leave in the fridge, ideally overnight. If you are especially short of time, the flavour will permeate faster at room temperature, so leave it out somewhere relatively cool for up to an hour before cooking.
When you’re ready to cook (obviously the cooking time depends on piece of chicken you’ve selected) then turn your oven up to around 180°C and sit your chicken in a non-stick baking tray. I balanced the marylands on top of some large chunks of red onion – I love caramelised roasted onion, moist from chicken juices. A great little addition to your plate. 
While your chicken is in the oven, dice some zucchini, red onion, and pretty much anything else you feel like putting into the couscous. Red capsicum works well, and I always add some diced apple too for a bit of sweet crunch too. Coriander is a tried-and-tested addition to Mediterranean cuisine, despite it’s more obvious links to South-East Asian cooking. (Wikipedia tells me it was cultivated in Greece, Israel and Egypt millennia ago).
To check if your chicken is cooked, insert a small knife deep into the flesh and the juices that come out should be clear, not bloody.
When the chicken is done and resting, begin cooking your couscous. The packet always has directions on if you’re unsure, although you’ll get a much better flavour with stock rather than just water and I’d add a knob of butter too. Add your diced vegetables as it’s nearing tenderness; as everything is chopped up into small pieces, it’ll take seconds to cook. When you’re happy with it, bind the couscous with a little extra virgin olive oil, season well and serve, topped with the chicken pieces and any gorgeous sticky bits of onion left in the roasting pan. Bon Appetit, as they say in Morocco.
Cake. The uber-moist citrussy kind.
the soft, sweet sponginess of a cake can light up the darkest days.
Cake has always been such a rewarding thing for me to make. Bread, for instance, does take a lot of love and can be unimaginably superb when it turns out well, but the soft, sweet sponginess of a cake can light up the darkest days. This recipe, originally from Tana Ramsay (via the ever-useful BBC Good Food website) is so simple and tasty that I can’t help but make it whenever I feel like having a lazy bake with some sweet rewards.
This time, however, I’ve toyed with the recipe and substituted mandarins (we had loads of them lying around since they were on special at the supermarket!) and threw in a handful of poppy seeds too; I love the tiny bits of crunch.
225g softened butter 225g caster sugar 225g self-raising flour 4 whole eggs 1 lemon zest (or 1 orange, or 1 lime, or 2 mandarins) poppy seeds juice of 1½ lemons (or 1 orange….) another 85g caster sugarPreheat your oven to 180C, then beat together the butter and sugar until pale and creamy, then add your eggs, one at a time, slowly mixing through. An electric whisk would be ideal for this but you should never be afraid of a bit of hard work when it comes to baking – you’ll aprreciate the results all the more.
Sift in the self-raising flour, then add the finely grated zest and poppy seeds, then mix until well combined. Line a loaf tin (8 x 21cm) with greaseproof paper, then spoon in the mixture and level the top with a spoon.
The recipe recommends baking for 45-50mins, but in my experience (maybe it’s just down to my oven) it’ll take an hour, more or less. Either way, as usual when baking, it should be cooked when a thin skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean.
While the cake is cooling in its tin, mix together the juice and 85g caster sugar to make the ‘drizzle’. Prick the warm cake all over with a skewer or fork, then pour over the drizzle – the juice will sink in and the sugar will form a lovely, crisp topping. Leave in the tin until completely cool, then remove and serve.
My mandarin cake, however, is iced with a cream cheese topping, like you’d generally find atop a carrot cake. Beat cream cheese with a some icing sugar (as much as you want, until you’re happy with the taste), throw in a couple of mandarins zest until smooth, then spread over the cooled cake.
Yum.
Open-Faced Pie
It’s been a very hectic couple of weeks here and I’ve hardly had time to cook, never mind blog! Nevertheless, on Sunday I finally had time to catch up, only after a looooooong breakfast in Café Dov’s Garden, of course. Here we go then; many days ago… about 14… I made a quiche; pastry and all, inspired by the onset of Spring in Sydney.
Wikipedia’s definition of a quiche is a savory, open-faced pie of vegetables, cheese, or meat in custard, baked in a pastry crust. Today quiche is considered as typically French. However, savoury custards in pastry were known in English cuisine at least as early as the fourteenth century… Who knew?
While I’ve always been a fan of quiche, I’ve never really tried making it before now. I think I like it mainly because it’s such a versatile snack as much as anything else. With a salad and bread, it’s a summer lunch… grab a slice on it’s own and it’s a healthy snack to go… serve hot, it’s comfort food!
Anyway, for the shortcrust, you will need:
250g plain flour,
200g butter, diced,
2 teaspoons caster sugar,
2 teaspoons fine sea salt,
50ml milk
1 egg yolk.
Rub the flour and butter between your fingertips until you get a breadcrumb-like texture and all the lumps of butter are gone, then mix in sugar, salt, egg yolk and almost all the milk. Gradually work the pastry together until a dough forms – you don’t need to knead it, the less work the better as long as it is a smooth dough.
You may need the rest of the milk, it does just take a little judgement as to know whether or not your pastry needs it or not.I misjudged it this time, I should have used more – but it’s not the end of the world either way. You must wrap the pastry in cling wrap and rest in the fridge for at least 2 hours (or up to three days) – otherwise it’ll shrink too much.
Once rested, roll out the pastry and line your tart ring/quiche dish. Refrigerate for another 30 minutes to rest, then you can blind-bake the pastry while making your filling:
4 eggs 285ml pure double creamIt’s as easy as that. Mix well, add your flavours (I used sun dried tomato, feta and some torn baby spinach) and don’t forget plenty of seasoning!
When your pastry is cooked, pour your mix carefully into your base and slide your creation carefully back into the oven at 150°C.
It should take 20-30 minutes to cook; make sure you check it regularly. You want the egg mixture to be only just wobbly, it will set as it cools.
Feel free to eat hot, cold, or in-between.
Asian Noodle Salad
What a fabulous spring day we had on Tuesday, it seems the terrible start to the season has finally passed, and the sun finally shone down on Sydney. As it was, delightfully, also my day off from work I was inspired to make an easy yet delicious salad for dinner. I didn’t have a recipe but it is such a flexible, simple dish that you can throw in almost anything you have to hand.
Today, I combined finely sliced wombok (Chinese Cabbage), shallot, thin shaves of raw carrot (use a potato peeler), small florets of raw cauliflower*, torn coriander and mint leaves, glass noodle vermicelli, chopped roasted cashews, and torn chicken thigh. The dressing is a twist on a traditional Thai, with a combination of nam pla (fish sauce), soy sauce, freshly squeezed lime juice, coriander root, finely chopped or grated ginger, chopped chilli and raw sugar (or palm sugar if you have it). It’s so so straightforward but so good – I use it all the time, not only as a salad dressing but also as a dip for dumplings, grilled beef or prawns, and also as a marinade. To get the right combination is a matter of taste – if you haven’t used fish sauce before though, be aware it has a very strong flavour and you need barely a teaspoon to make enough dressing for two people, after you’ve added the lime juice. The addition of soy is (I believe) a stray from traditional Thai but I’ve never been one for sticking to tradition.
Toss the salad with the dressing in a large bowl, then heap generously into a bowl and enjoy, preferably with an ocean view and a glass of Riesling. Or, as I did, a Gin & Tonic and British TV shows.
*I wouldn’t really recommend the cauliflower, I just had it left over from the weekend. Broccolini would work better. Or Snow Peas.
Risotto
I grew up hating risotto. My mum has her strengths in the kitchen but risotto is certainly not one of them. I still have flashbacks of the crunchy-basmati-rice overcooked-chicken-liver risotto she’d make a couple of times a year. As I got older, my interest in cooking piqued and I read about risotto – you are supposed to use “special” rice, not whatever old long grain you find in the cupboard. I believe the first risotto I tried that I enjoyed (sorry Mum) was cooked by a close friend at University, who made a simple yet divine Butternut Pumpkin risotto with Crispy Sage – it is to this day one of my favourite flavours of risotto.
What I love about risotto is the way you can really pack in the flavours; it is a dish that can really send all your senses wild.
Since those days of my Mum’s Chicken Liver Basmati Risotto, I have seen many menus and recipes that suggest using a long grain rice, rather than the traditional arborio or carnaroli but it isn’t until I visited Tomislav restaurant in Darlinghurst where I tried a truly great Basmati rice risotto. The menu describes the dish as a basmati rice risotto, grilled Yamba prawns, chives and lemon zest. The result was incredible. Al dente, exploding with creamy citrus flavour, and beautiful presentation too. Needless to say, many an Italian chef would be crying into his arborio at the thought of bastardising a risotto with basmati rice, but a wise man once said, “The greatest virtue of man is perhaps curiosity”, and while traditionalists may scoff, Basmati Risotto is now OK in my book.
In true, classic Italian cookery, the risotto should retain a little bite when served, al dente, and that is just how I like it too – but at the end of the day, real cooking isn’t to impress a judge – it’s to feed yourself. Do what you like. If you want soft rice, then make it that way. The pleasure in cooking for yourself is exactly that… no-one can tell you what is right or wrong, the most accurate measure of success is if you enjoy it.
What I love about risotto is the way you can really pack in the flavours, it is a dish that can really send all your senses wild. It’s so versatile too, you can create a wonderful plate of carefully prepared rice in almost any flavour you imagine. I always find it so difficult to settle on a favourite flavour, however. Wild mushroom and truffle is a tried-and-tested classic; I’ll never forget my first Pumpkin & Sage; Pea and Mint is a delightful dish… the list is long and tasty. Tonight, however, I will be making a pea and mint risotto, with pan-roasted ocean trout fillets.
For two people:
First, make your risotto base – this is more or less identical for every risotto you can make.
Sauté off diced onion (about 1/2 an onion per person) in olive oil or butter – I usually add finely chopped garlic too. When tender, pour in your rice – 100g per person should be plenty – and keep stirring, you don’t want it to stick. The rice will begin to turn translucent, then pour in a good splash of wine (half a glass per person) and allow the alcohol to cook out before adding your hot stock (vegetable or chicken, usually). Add a ladle at a time, stirring the rice constantly, only adding the next ladle when the rice is drying out. After roughly fifteen minutes/600ml stock, you should have your base. The rice will be still crunchy, but at this stage, if you want to, you can stop, cool the rice down, and store it in the fridge for up to three days. This is how restaurants make risotto – otherwise it’d take too long every time a customer orders one.
For this pea risotto, I’ve made a pea purée by cooking the peas in butter and a little stock, then pouring into a blender. Be careful not to add too much stock in the blender – it’s much easier to add more liquid than take it away. I add a little mint into the purée and I chiffronade (finely slice) some to stir through at the end.
To finish your risotto, add more hot stock to your rice, as you did before, until it is approaching how you like it to be cooked. I like it al dente, so just before it gets there, I add my flavouring, which today is the pea puree. If your rice isn’t yet tender enough, add a little more stock until you’re happy with it – don’t forget it will keep absorbing the liquid even after you have served. Stir well, then season with grated parmesan and plenty of sea salt and freshly cracked pepper. Right at the end, just before you plate, stir in a healthy knob of butter and your chopped mint.
Spoon your risotto onto your favourite plate, top with shaved parmesan, extra virgin olive oil, cracked pepper, and in this case, medium-rare Ocean Trout. Enjoy. Feel free to lick the plate.
scone? or scone?
It all started with a jar of Strawberry and Vanilla Jam, made to a recipe lovingly passed down from Grandmother to Grandson.
- David Bitton
Sunday morning. Brunch with friends in Alexandria at the fantastic Bitton Gourmet Café. It’s the first time I’d been there and I absolutely loved it. The style of service, the food, and the layout of the café were all great, and David Bitton, the owner, was a fantastic host. I had a divine Croque Monsieur, with Gruyere, Organic Black Pig Ham, Sauce Mornay and delectable Bitton Tomato Sauce. It was a brilliant experience and massively inspiring – David opened Bitton in 2000 and it is a brilliant example of how a well-run café/grocer can be.
After returning home (via the supermarket) I set about baking scones. This recipe is from BAKE by Alison Thompson – simple yet great tasting.
- 700g Self-Raising Flour
- 180g Caster Sugar
- pinch salt
- 60g Butter, Diced
- 1 tsp Vanilla Extract
- 375ml Milk
Preheat oven to 170°C. Combine the sifted flour, sugar, salt and diced butter – either in an electric mixer or by hand. Add the milk and vanilla extract and mix by hand until a dough is formed.
Turn out onto a floured surface, and roll out to about 3cm thick, before cutting into rounds using a 5cm cutter. Carefully place the raw scones onto a greased baking tray. brush with milk, and bake for around 15 minutes until golden brown.
Serve with jam (I used Bitton’s Strawberry and Vanilla) and whipped cream. Awesome.
As you can see from the images, the scones turned out pretty well. The recipe makes around 18 – we must have eaten ten between the two of us. They were delightful; I’m pretty happy with the recipe and will keep using it until I perfect it – sweet scones with home made jam is something I definitely want on my menu.
books & breakfast
So this weekend, Melinda and I took ourselves to Ampersand Café/bookstore in Paddington, we hadn’t been for a while. Ampersand has, over the years, become an institution in this particular stretch of Oxford street. No matter who you talk to, all you have to do is say the name and everyone knows the café/bookstore. Some even start to get a dreamy, far-away look in their eye and start nodding emphatically as you describe your own breakfast experience before launching into a detailed account of their favourite Ampersand recipe.
perfect poached eggs, asparagus, home made hash browns, slow roasted tomato and garlic-and-thyme mushroom. And extra bacon. Seriously good stuff.
On previous visits, we sit in the courtyard, however this time we sat upstairs, and I realised what a fantastic concept it is – obviously a lot of bookshops serve coffee but is a really good brunch cafe with stacks of second hand books. It feels like such a happy, calm place too – plenty of sunlight and great charming staff. Anyway, I had a massive “Ampersandian” breakfast with perfect poached eggs, seasonal asparagus (I love that Australia has a long Asparagus season!), home made hash browns, sweet, juicy slow roasted tomato and garlic-and-thyme mushroom. And extra bacon. Seriously good stuff. Coffee was outstanding too. Melinda ordered the “Mediterranean” which was freshly toasted foccacia, slathered with home made pesto, baby spinach, grilled haloumi, two of the fabulous slow roasted tomatoes, and a frankly obscene amount of excellent scrambled eggs. The haloumi here is just out of this world – I just don’t know how they do it but they manage to retain it’s unique texture and yet isn’t overly salty. Having tried haloumi in many places across Sydney, cooked in various ways, but this is simply the best that has passed my lips.
I love this style of food and service, it’s so laid back but really great tasting. The presentation of the food is good without being pretentious or finicky, and it all comes together perfectly for a relaxed, satisfying, thoroughly enjoyable experience for the customer.
