burnt toast

Avocado

guacamole

Oh guacamole. It feels like we’ve known each other for ever. No matter where I go, or what I do, you will always sneak your way into my life. I have loved you, and hated you, as well as looked at you in pity. You have been good, bad, and extremely average. Before however I continue what could end up being a novel about the many facets of your personality, answer me this. What’s the go with that jarred version of you one finds at supermarkets next to the salsa and corn chips? Do people actually eat that or is it just to please the eye, to complete the colour composition of the snack isle? If it were, I’d pat you on the back and go “Nice one! But between the two of us, keep an eye on the natural flavoured corn chips. The two of you might clash a bit…” But whom are we kidding. I don’t know what you are but you will sure as hell not get the honour of being called guacamole. I have not dared look at your list of contents, but I assume it would include hydrated lettuce, tapioca, MSG and concentrated synthetic diluted reconstituted imitation guacamole extract. I know baby, I know. But I really appreciate how much effort you put into being perfect at home with me on the table, in that delicate white and blue bowl. You look beautiful together with those corn chips, they really bring out your smooth side. The slight bite of the lime, the tangy saltines of the goat’s cheese, the aromatic bouquet of the garlic and the spices. I will dare go as far and say baby, in my eyes, you are perfect.

Guacamole

2 large or 3 smallish ripe avocados

½ lime, juice

2 Tbsp sour cream

2 large garlic cloves, chopped finely

1/3 tsp ground cumin

1/3 tsp ground coriander

½  tsp salt

1 bunch coriander, leaves and stems, chopped finely

50g soft goat’s cheese or soft feta, crumbled, plus more to decorate

fresh chilli, as desired

Scoop out the beautiful avocado flesh into a bowl and mash roughly. Stir in the rest of the ingredients, adding as little or as much chilli as you’d like. Top with a little more cheese and maybe a few leaves of coriander for added prettiness. Bring out the tortilla chips and start that party.

Vanilla

vanillekipferl

Once upon a time, far far away, there was a little girl that lived in Switzerland who loved Christmas. Every year she’d look forward to lighting the advent wreath, to baking cookies with her mum, to opening the Christmas calendar and to decorating the the cute little pine tree she had helped to pick at the markets. Then, if she was lucky, Santa and his donkey would come by and give her a little bag filled with juicy mandarins, chocolates and peanuts. And then finally, Christmas Day arrived, where she and all the other little children were smothered with gifts, while their families and relatives happily sat by, singing Christmas carols, while the snowflakes outside silently covered the rooftops and footpaths. That time of year was just magical.

On the other side of the world, quite a few years later, this now not so little girl is sitting on the veranda, covered in sunscreen with a cold drink next to her, wishing for the life of her that it will soon be January. No matter how many cute little Father Christmas-hat – bearing wallabies she sees, she is incapable of taking on the Christmas spirit. It’s just too fucking hot.

So reminiscing the past, Switzerland, and snowy Christmas days, here my favourite biscuit recipe. May you too have an awesomely hot/cold/dramatic Christmas, and may we perhaps one day meet on a cold and snowy night to bake biscuits. Merry merry.

Vanillekipferl

 

I am not much of a biscuit person, so it means quite something that I’m giving you a recipe for some here. They are beautifully simple vanillary melt-in-your-mouth shortbread-style mouthfuls of pleasure.

Makes heaps (or about 4 baking trays worth)

 

500g plain flour

½ tsp salt

300g icing sugar, plus extra to decorate

400g cold butter, cut into cubes

4 tsp vanilla essence

1 vanilla bean, seeds scraped

200g ground almonds

2 egg yolks

Combine the flour, salt, and icing sugar in a big bowl. Next, add the butter and rub it into the flour until it resembles coarse sand.

Add the rest of the ingredients and knead into a soft dough. Cover with clingwrap and chill for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 200°C. While keeping the dough as cool as possible, shape it into finger – thick sausages. Cut these into 2cm lengths, and roll them into “horns” or bananas or waxing moons or whatever you feel like calling them at that precise moment. Place them on a baking paper – clad tray and bake them for 10 – 15 minutes – they should barely have taken on any colour. A golden hue is perfect.

While the bickies are still warm, turn the biscuits in a plate filled with icing sugar. Once they’re cool, you can always sprinkle on more.

Great with a cup of Lady Grey tea.

Sun-dried Tomato and Cream Cheese Dip

sun-dried tomato and cream cheese dip

This one will be short and sweet. Salty, tangy, and creamy too. Yes, another dip. But I know you believe me when I tell you that I only give you awesome dip recipes. If I had to describe how dear this one is to me, I would say it would be like a favourite grandchild. You know, the one grandmas brag about with their 17 photo albums, the one who’s a successful med student with a beautiful blue-eyed girlfriend, and they reeeally just won’t shut up about them? That’s mine. Only I would hold myself back a little bit. Because it’s not your fault your grandchild isn’t as awesome as mine. But. Because I’m such a generous person, today I will let you in on my grandkid, my baby, so that you too can go brag about it. Share the love I say.

Sun-dried Tomato and Cream Cheese Dip

12 sun-dried tomato halves, roughly chopped

125g cream cheese, softened

125g sour cream

1 garlic clove, roughly chopped

1 tsp balsamic vinegar

¾ tsp vegetable stock granules

1 splash soy sauce

freshly ground black pepper

optional: a splash of milk

more chopped sundried tomatoes and basil, for garnish

Another dead easy one. Combine all ingredients, except for the garnish, in a jug, and give them a thorough whirl with your hand held blender. Add a splash of milk if it’s too thick for your liking. Voilà. Transfer to a pretty bowl and top with the extra sundried tomato and the basil.

I love this as a sandwich topping, or as part of a antipasti table, with some juicy kalamata olives, some steamed asparagus and some fresh focaccia.

Falafel

falafel

As a former vegetarian, I shall try not to overdo it with the enthusiasm. But as we all know the take-away choice of a vego is rather limited, especially if you’re feeling like something naughty. And “How about an apple?” just doesn’t seem to quite work anymore. So this was my naughty snack. While others had fries and sugary ketchup with their little squidgy cheese burgers, I was chomping into a huge colourful and (for me then) sinfully crunchy wrap with extra chilli. These days I don’t have these limitations anymore. The falafel however, has still stayed in my heart. Touching innit.

Amongst the many crazy veggie worshippers out there, with their “best” ultra-healthy oven-baked- or sweetpotato and white bean with alfa alfa sprout versions, there’s this recipe. Relatively traditional, just with the addition of tahini. This, in my opinion, makes it pop. And the frying of course. Go pretend to be a vegetarian for a while and make these. Then come tell me how awesome they were. You’re welcome.

Falafel

200g dried chickpeas, soaked overnight, drained

1 medium onion, chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

2 spring onions, chopped

½ cup firmly packed chopped parsley (with stems)

½ cup firmly packed chopped coriander (with roots and stems)

70g (or about 4 Tbsp) tahini

1 Tbsp ground cumin

1 Tbsp ground coriander

1 Tbsp lemon juice

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 tsp baking powder

3 Tbsp flour

1 tsp vegetable stock powder

salt

Blend everything in a food processor or with a handheld blender until a beautiful light green paste forms. Give it a little taste, and add as much salt as you think is necessary. Cover and keep in the fridge for 2 hours or more, until ready to use.

Shape the paste or dough or whatever you want to call it at this stage into walnut sized balls. Once you’re ready, you can either get a deep fryer going, or, like me, because I’m scared of the idea of large amounts of hot oil bubbling around in front of me, half-fill a fry pan with oil. Once it’s hot, add the balls and fry them on each side until beautifully browned. Transfer onto some kitchen paper to soak up the residual oil and fry the rest of the babies. Once done, you can either keep them in a warm oven until you need them, or serve them immediately, in a wrap, as a mezze spread, or with some coriander yoghurt with a swirl of sriracha chilli sauce.

Cheers.

It is time for drinks me thinks. Time to celebrate. It is very important to have a reason to clink glasses. It makes it all the more important. There are many many reasons today for this one. To good friends, to family, to health, to food, to life. To my repetitive sneezing, to early mornings, to warm scarves, and to tired giggles. And to this drink of course. Often it will be ordered without alcohol, as a designated driver’s drink, or even overlooked because it has become “standard”. However, if it is done right, it becomes so much more than just standard. Don’t go shy on the angostura and squeeze that lime for what it’s worth.

Cheers to us.

 

Vodka with Lemon, Lime and Bitters

ice of course

15ml lime cordial

10-12 dashes of angostura bitters

50ml vodka

150ml “Lift” lemonade, or other cloudy lemonade

2 fat lime wedges

Fill a tall glass with ice and add cordial, bitters and vodka, combining them with a spoon. Add lemonade and squeeze the lime wedges on top and drop into the drink.

Tomato Soup

So you know how you tend to be a bit crazy about something for a while? Usually it’s a lifelong addiction to chocolate, ain’t it ladies? Or you have some sort of lolly you can’t live without. Or a specific chilli sauce. My current such pleasure is somewhat ridiculous, but hey, we all are to some extent. Truffle oil. I could drink that stuff from a shot glass. I want it on everything. Especially on tomato soup. That beautiful savoury garlicky umami character of the oil compliments the sweet creamy tanginess of the soup perfectly. This is rich stuff. This is gourmet comfort food. It is anything and everything I could ever want from a soupe de tomate.

It is also perfect for cold, grey Swiss days. Yes, the weather here in Bern is shite, but you know what? It’s so good to be back. I’ve missed you beautiful people. And the cheese. And the chocolate. I could go on but I know you’re hungry. Now go make this soup and think of me.

The Best Tomato Soup (with Truffle Oil)

Makes 1 Litre, serving 4 as an entrée, or two greedy people as a main.

1 tsp butter

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 onion, finely chopped

1 celery stalk, finely chopped

1 carrot, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, finely sliced

2 pinches cinnamon

2 pinches ground cumin

2 pinches chilli

4 parsley stalks, knotted together, plus extra, to serve

2 cans chopped tomatoes

300ml water

2 tsp chicken stock granules

1 Tbsp soy sauce

1 tsp honey

4 Tbsp crème fraîche, plus extra for serving

2 tsp truffle oil, plus more for drizzling

cracked black pepper

melt the butter with the oil in a saucepan and add the onion, celery, carrot and garlic, and sweat on low heat until soft. Add the spices, parsley, chopped tomatoes, water and stock powder. Let it simmer for about half an hour. Remove from heat, remove the parsley, and give it a whizz with a hand held blender, until it’s all smooth and creamy. Now add the soy, honey, crème fraîche and truffle oil, and give it another whirl. If you’re being all fancy you can pass it through a fine sieve, but that would be a waste of healthy fibre, would it not. Reheat if necessary, add some more seasoning if need be, then pour into bowls, swirl in some of the extra crème fraîche, drizzle over some more of that delicious oil and add a sprinkling of parsley. I love parsley with tomato soup. It’s old fashioned, but good. Crack some pepper over the whole beautiful mess and treat yourself to a bowlful.

Carrot Cake

So what are you, a cake or a biscuit person? This is pretty vital for our relationship, so be honest, okay. It’s like the dog or cat question. This will either deepen our friendship or make it disappear in a puff of orange smoke. Yes orange. I’m a cake person, through and through. But if I’m really honest, I’m actually an icing person. Cream cheese icing. Hells yeah. It’s the most important part of the cake.

I don’t care much for chocolate cake, unless it’s in brownie form. Cake needs to be fluffy and moist – none of that airy dry, crap, but also not too moist, because then it will become extremely heavy, like those vegan gluten-free sugar free bricks you find at the health food shop. Carrot cake is not supposed to be health food. It’s supposed to be cake, it says it in the name. Also, there is no way you will find raisins in my carrot cake, they just ruin it. And this cake is best for breakfast. Or lunchtime with champagne. Because carrot cake, my friend, is awesome, and it doesn’t need a special occasion.

The Best Carrot Cake

This recipe is adapted from Leila Lindholm’s cookbook, „Backen mit Leila“. Fabulous book, you should get it.

150g softened unsalted butter

240g caster sugar

3 eggs

2 pinches of salt

1 ½ tsp vanilla essence

1 ½ tsp cinnamon

1 tsp ground cardamom

½ tsp ground ginger

180g plain flour

3 tsp baking powder

300g finely grated carrots ( about 2 ½ large ones)

100g roughly chopped walnuts

70g softened unsalted butter

320g Philadelphia cream cheese

1 1/2 tsp vanilla essence

1 lime, finely grated rind and juice from one half

100g icing sugar

Preheat the oven to 150°C degrees. Line a 24cm baking tin with baking paper and set aside.

In a big bowl, beat the butter and the sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time. Beat in salt, essence and spices. Add the flour and the baking powder and mix well. Beat in the carrots, then the walnuts.

Spread into the tin. The batter will be nice and thick thus easy to spread. Let it bake for 55 minutes or until golden and a skewer inserted comes out clean. Let it cool.

In the meantime, beat the butter and the cream cheese fort he icing. Add the vanilla, the lime and the icing sugar and beat until fluffy.

When the cake has cooled, spread the icing over the cake. Get a knife and cut yourself a piece, you’ve deserved it.

By the way I’m a cat person, albeit a strange one. See, some cats don’t like me. And sometimes, very very rarely, I have been known to like dogs. But only if they tapdance.

Carrots, Cashews and Goodbyes

I’ve never been a big fan of goodbyes. I’ve had my fair share of them, and no boubt there will be more to come. Change is good, even if it’s hard to come to terms with that fact at the beginning. My last “change” was three years ago, from Switzerland to Australia, from (little) capital city to tiny country town. And as much as I may have complained about the scarce public transport and the sleepy, laid back life style here, I have grown to love Mullumbimby. I have met the most interesting and beautiful people here and made incredibly good friends. I will miss working with my best friend at the local coffee shop/takeaway deli. I will miss knowing every coffee shop customer’s coffee order. I will miss making sandwiches, and I will miss hating making fresh juices. I will miss jogging the same old track to the cemetery every day. I will miss apéro time down the road. I will miss all the hugs, all the laughs and all the smiles shared. I will miss being here, in this sleepy little place, where people drive like lunatics, where nobody will give you a second glance if you walk to town in your pijamas, where pseudo hippies ask for spinach in their banana smoothie.

However I know my time here is up. I am ready for new adventures, for a change of scenery. Melbourne, you beautiful city, here I come.

But first, off to Switzerland. A month of freezing toes and old friends. Life’s good. Life’s great.

So in the meantime, I would like you to consider this little dip here. Yes, I recall telling you I have a thing for dips. Dips are awesome. They turn every end-of-day cup of wine into a little celebration. And in my opinion there’s never enough to celebrate. This one’s especially spectacular. The vibrant orange with speckles of green, the creamy, velvety texture offset by crunchy little morcels of cashew. The sweetness of the carrots complemented by the saltiness of the nuts and the zing of the lemon. If there’s something that could turn carrots into superstars, this would be it.

Carrot, Cashew and Coriander Dip

 

2 large carrots, peeled and roughly chopped

100g roasted cashews, plus 50g extra, roughly chopped

1 tsp ground coriander

1 tsp ground cumin

¼ tsp cinnamon

½ garlic clove, roughly chopped

½ lemon

½ tsp salt

dash of soy sauce

2 pinches chilli

2 Tbsp olive oil

2 Tbsp coriander, leaves finely chopped

Place carrot in a small saucepan and add a few tablespoons of water. Cover and let simmer until the carrot is cooked. Scoop it out and transfer into a jug. Add the rest of the ingredients and blend them with a hand held blender. Stir in the extra chopped cashews. You might have to adjust the seasoning later. Now, top with more nuts, maybe a slice of lemon, some paprika or maybe a few leaves of coriander. Let’s be hippies together, one last time.

By the way this goes really well with dukkah – crusted focaccia, jus’ sayin’.

Dukkah – dusted Focaccia

There are days ( specifically late Saturday and Sunday mornings), when the only thing that will do is bread. Pastry, starch. Anything soothing, filling and comforting. It’s even better if it has some sophisticated twist going on, so you have a reason to eat more, because you know, it’s sophisticated.

This is a beautiful combination of the previous two recipes. I dearly hope that you make it for dinner, and then, like me, have a nibble on a reheated piece the next day.

To weekends, to celebrations, and to my father’s wedding.

Dukkah – dusted Focaccia

I had this combination in Brisbane a few weeks ago at a little Italian restaurant called Conti, and it blew my mind a little bit. Maybe it was the combination of crusty, crunchy, dukkah –studded bread combined with the zingy hit of sharp olive oil and balsamic, or my starved self finally having some food to comfort my belly. Either way, it’s very sophisticated, in a tummy –filling sort of way.

1x focaccia dough, proven once, stretched out on a baking tray

a jar of dukkah, 5-7 Tbsp (about 1/6 of the previous recipe)

Preheat oven to 200°C. Brush your dough with some water – it makes the dukkah stick better than oil would. Sprinkle as much or as little dukkah as you choose over the top, and pop it into the oven, baking it for about 20 minutes or until golden. Serve with a combination of peppery olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and if you’re anything like me, with a dip and a few olives. But that’s entirely up to you.

Dukkah

Crunchy.  I love crunchy. I’m pretty sure you do, too. I want lots of crunch. Crunch makes me happy. Do you know dukkah? This dry Egyptian mix of nuts and spices, where you first dunk a piece of bread into olive oil, then into the nut mixture, then eat? Yeah? It makes me happy. Especially because of the hazelnuts. Anything with hazelnuts has to be good. And if it requires the action of dipping, well then, I’m sold.

Dukka

150g hazelnuts

100g almonds

100g sesame seeds

2 Tbsp cumin seeds

2Tbsp coriander seeds

1 Tbsp fennel seeds

¾ tsp freshly ground black pepper

¾ tsp cinnamon

1 ½ tsp vegetable stock powder

Dry-roast hazelnuts on a low flame till the skins crack and the nuts take on a golden, brown-speckled hue. I usually do this in two batches, first getting the skins to crack, rubbing them between a towel, then letting them have a second go in the frypan, for that deliciously toasty hazelnut flavour. Afterwards, let them cool. Repeat with the almonds and the sesame seeds. Next, combine the cumin, coriander and fennel in the pan and dry-roast them until they smell good and have taken on a little colour. Once everything has cooled down, pulse the nuts and seeds, each on their own, until roughly ground. Grind the spices with a pestle and mortar until also roughly ground. Combine with the remaining 3 ingredients. You could of course replace some of the almonds with pistacios for a bit of colour, but quite frankly I don’t think this needs changing.

Why do I always use stock powder? Because it has so much more flavour than plain salt, that’s why. If you don’t like it you can replace it with whatever salt that makes you happy. Just adjust the amount, okay?