Christmas Cake In A Month Of 50's.

This is my fiftieth post. I was kind of hoping to hold out till next week and have it coincide with my fiftieth birthday.

Alas, not to be. It is two thirty am and I cannot sleep. My mind is occupied with all the things I need to be doing. There are still some guests I have yet to invite. I need to get started on the veggies that must be roasted and left to marinate, so that by the 20th they will be loaded with flavour and bursting with zingyiness. Which veggies? The beetroot, the eggplant and the capsicum. Either tomorrow or the next day. No later. I mean it.

I made four calico tablecloths yesterday and four lovely country apple green table runners to go over the tops. Together with some table decorations in the way of citronella candles in large glass vases, chunky carafes, small green glass vases with fresh flowers, upturned terracotta pots holding sticks, washed rocks from the river and further wooden sticks and bark, the table was looking very rustic yet warm and inviting. At least that is coming together and looking very nice.

I need to make a couple of chocolate mud cakes. Probably one for my actual birthdate and a larger one for the party date. Righto, that's on the agenda as well. Speaking of cake, I made a Christmas cake about three weeks ago and I made the fatal mistake of cutting it about seven days ago. Half of it is gone. No kidding. And I'm ashamed to say I have consumed most of it.

Why should I be ashamed? It is absolutely gorgeous and I am loving it. There is simply no comparison to a storebought fruit cake. I don't care what you say. There just isn't. A homemade fruit cake is about as luxurious as it gets. Perhaps because there are so few people that I know who actually bake one these days. My mother-in-law still does. Several infact.

I am particularly pleased with my christmas cake this time round. I have made a few alterations and I'm delighted with the results. I have always enjoyed a moist fruit cake, but I have really overloaded the cake with fruit in the past making it too moist. However, there is nothing worse than a dry fruit cake, burnt around the edges and overcooked and overworked. It's not easy. Still, I haven't felt my version has been too crash hot the last couple of years. Sure it has been delicious but it has also been too difficult to cut without breaking up and quite simply there is just too much fruit.

In my lastest effort I decided to reduce the amount of fruit, made sure not to overcook it and wrapped it up soon after brushing generously with extra brandy. The enclosed steam probably helped with retaining the cake's moisture. And surprisingly enough it cut beautifully. It is not crumbly and the ratio of cake to fruit is much more to my liking. It's a keeper. So I guess I better get this recipe in writing before I forget exactly what it is I did. I don't remember as well as I used to. Would that have anything to do with turning 50?

Mariana's Christmas Cake

500gm sultanas
125gm raisins, chopped
125gm prunes, chopped
125gm dried dates, chopped
125gm glace cherries, chopped
rind of one orange
juice of one orange
2tbsp orange marmalade
1/2 cup brandy
250gm butter
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
4 eggs
1 cup plain flour
1 cup self raising flour
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp mixed spice
1 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
extra glace cherries & blanched almonds for decoration
extra brandy

Place the first nine ingredients all in a glass or ceramic bowl. Mix thoroughly so that all the fruit has been well coated with the liquid. Seal tightly with some cling film and place in a cool, undrafty spot. I soaked my fruit for about one week agitating it a couple of times to mix it up and soak evenly. I cannot describe how wonderful the smell was each time I unveiled the cling film. It is easy to overlook this step. I have at times. But the soaking of the fruit really is essential for a plump, juicy, voluptuous and spicy cake. I wish you could smell it.



Combine the butter and sugar in a bowl. Make sure the butter is fairly soft but definitely not melted. Mix till the two are only just combined. Really. Only just combined. Do not be tempted to keep mixing. Add this to your fruit and ensure that all the fruit is covered with the butter mixture.



Take four lovely free range eggs and mix well with a fork.



Add this to the butter and fruit mixture.



Using a spatula or indeed your hands, ensure the eggs are well incorporated.



Sift together the flours and ground cinnamon and mixed spice. The grated nutmeg may be too coarse to sift. I added it directly onto the mixture.



Ensure all the ingredients have been well distributed and mixed together. No flour spots please. No need to mix the heck out of it either. Just mix till you see it has all come together.



Grease and line your cake tin. I used double baking paper. Take your time to line the tin so that there is no buckling or uneveness with the paper. You may as well carry on with the love and care now that you have come this far.



Carefully drop the mixture into the tin. Using a large spoon or your hands, spread the mixture till even. Drop the cake tin from a height, not too high, so that it helps to knock out some air bubbles and settle the mixture.



Decorate the cake top with blanched almonds and glace cherries if desired.



I baked my cake for three hours and fifteen minutes at 130 degrees celcius in a conventional oven, not fan forced. I brushed the hot cake with about 3 tablespoons of extra brandy. After ten minutes I pressed the baking paper sticking above the tin over the cake and covered the tin with a large teatowel. Leave overnight.



The next day, I removed the cake still encased in the baking paper and wrapped securely in foil and cling film then wrapped the lot in newspaper. Try and resist temptation for as long as you can to allow those flavours to further develop. It is well and truly worth it. Christmas Cake made with love.


Happy 50th Post to me!

Aioli And The Child In Me

I just managed to catch the film "Julie and Julia" before it ceased showing. I went with my daughter Nicole. It was a great bonding movie for us both as there was much to relate to in this movie. My dear friend Gayle sent me an email saying she thought of me the whole way through the movie. Really Gayle, the whole way. Wow that is saying something.

My daughter's best friend, Pip, saw me later that day and said "Julia reminded me so much of you. You even look the same." And, yes, we do. I am rather tall with a mop of curly hair that I have been trying to tame my whole life. It's a battle I have lost and I am now resigned to allowing the waves to go wherever the hell they like. The funny thing is, now I don't seem to mind too much. Sometimes, shock horror, I even like the way they choose to flick out or over or under. Sticking straight up is still not on, so the odd pot of hair jel has to come to the rescue sometimes.

I actually did not know very much about Julia Child, (forgive me please I'm Australian), however I had heard about her and I'd read some of her many famous quotes. I think I even used a couple in one of my cooking classes a few years ago.

I adore Meryl Streep. Strangely enough, so does Nicole and Pip, which is really saying something for a couple of sweet and sexy 19 year olds. They also absolutely love and adore Audrey Hepburn, but now I am really getting off the track.

Meryl Streep who played Francesca in 'Bridges of Madison County' absolutely touched me to the core. Her performance in that movie and indeed her character, has made this my all time favourite movie. So yeah, I like Meryl. Her portrayal of Julia was incredible. I actually found myself relating a little more to Julia than I care to admit. I felt the boredom of 'what to do' with my life. I felt the excitement of creating a recipe and seeing the wonderful expressions of gratitude and satisfaction ooze from the faces of those I love. I felt the hard work involved in pursuit of a dream, a mission, a goal.

I adored her "secrecy" and the guarding of her recipes. Oh how I laughed. I've well and truly been there. Infact I have been down right mean in not giving away some of my 'famous' recipes which I now have no trouble in posting about so that all the world can see. Are you out there world? My Danish Pastries really are the bomb! Sorry to all you ladies who begged for that recipe. Gosh I was mean. Gee "gosh" was another word Julia used rather often. Hmm.

But apart from Julia and the wonderful Meryl, I also loved the story of Julie. Anyone who is a food blogger would surely understand. This movie was made for us.

In recognition of Julia's thorough and comprehensive recipes, I have enclosed my recipe for aioli which I have attempted to explain in detail. There really is a knack to making a "mayonnaise" and so many recipe books have let me down in the past. Sure you can bung it all in the food processor but this is one of those recipes where "handmade with love" makes all the difference. If you have any questions, make sure you ask me so I can hopefully clarify. Julia would have loved that.

MARIANA’S AIOLI

(For best results ensure all ingredients are at room temperature)
1 egg yolk
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 or 2 teaspoons lemon juice
100 ml pure olive oil
100 ml light olive oil
1 large or 2 small cloves garlic
Fine sea salt & cracked pepper



• Smash garlic with some salt in a mortar & pestle; set aside.

• Pour oils together in a pouring bottle with a fine nozzle.

• Warm a bowl by placing hot water in it for a few minutes. Dry quickly. Sit over another bowl with some hottish water in it, a little like using a double boiler. By doing this I find I eliminate that "raw" egg taste that can sometimes dominate. My aioli may appear rather 'yellow' because my egg yolk is almost orange. Remember I have very healthy free range chooks and they reward me with bright eggs. Also the dijon mustard is brownish in colour and also contributes to a more 'coloured' aioli.



• Put yolk, mustard & juice in warm bowl; begin to whisk immediately.

• Add droplets of oil & thoroughly whisk till ½ of the oil has been used.

• Continue whisking in oil, now in a thin but steady stream until it has all been incorporated.



• Add garlic, season further with salt & pepper to taste. I added half a teaspoon of castor sugar. If you choose to do this, whisk well till the sugar is dissolved.

• If you prefer your aioli to have a thinner consistency, add a spoonful of warm water at the end. I do.

• Aioli is perfect to eat with carrots, asparagus, zucchini, celery, snowpeas, crudités.

• Pat dry dipping vegetables that are moist such as cucumber & tomatoes or the aioli will slip straight off when dipping.



1. This recipe may take 15min to prepare. Get ready to sweat a little!
2. Some countries like Spain use extra virgin olive oil, however I find it is too strong and overpowering. For me an aioli should be tangy but subtle without that dominating “olive” taste.
3. You may use 100% light olive oil if desired. I often do.
4. For added variety try an aioli with vinegar instead of lemon juice, more or less garlic, 1 or 2 tbsp shredded basil or chopped continental parsley.

Aioli keeps well sealed in jar in the fridge for up to 7 days.

I was really pleased with my aioli; the balance of flavours was perfect for me. It worked really well with my salad leaves, red onion, smoked salmon and squeeze of lime juice. Hmmm. Really, really nice and really, really 'real'.



Have a go. It's all Child's play.

New Beginnings

In less than a month I shall turn 50. My dear friend Gayle shall be back in New Zealand. We decided to have a lunch, a proper lunch that is, down on the farm before she returned. And so it was haphazardly thrown together with her lovely daughter, grandson and sons attending as well.

Hubby has gone to the trouble of creating an outdoor area just above the river flat. When I say creating, I mean, well, building and putting it together. He is one of those rare creatures these days who has to make everything himself. No storebought, ready-made for him. No way. That would be tooo easy. Heaven forbid.

And so out we went to christen the building and the new chairs. Unfortunately we didn't have time to drench and dry the 'kwila' hardwood chairs and so the tanins leached out and stained our clothes. Oops. Oh dear. Sorry about your very good footie tee Simon. We were guinea pigs. And sometimes we find things out the hard way because of it.

However when it comes to food, Gayle always says she loves being my guinea pig. I was very happy with the lunch and so it would appear was everyone else. Not sure if it was the outdoors but it was a lovely, relaxing day despite the searing heat. And her little grandson was very intrigued with the cows and calves. He left with a new word in his vocabulary. Moo.

I guess in a way I am like Hubby too. When it comes to food that is. I am very hard on myself and usually have to make "everything". And make everything I did. However I really enjoyed myself. I was well organised, paced myself well, and worked steadily. The most important thing is I didn't stress. I am thinking that I'm old enough now to figure out "it just aint worth it". If I "stuff up", well then I am just human. It has taken me a loooong time to get here. But I have finally made it. And I am finally relaxed. Having said that, it shall be interesting to see how I go when I cater for my 50th. That will be the 'real' test.

And so we had our first official lunch at the farm. The beginning of many, many lunches I hope to have on our beautiful place in the country. The beginning of my new self, a more relaxed self, that will in fact be able to put on these spreads and 'enjoy' doing so. The beginning of the second half of my life. Am I being a little optimistic here? Why not. The beginning of a new life with time spent more around nature and the outdoors rather than in the shopping centre. Life's good.

The Menu.

Roasted Mini Trim Lamb - A Mediterranean Morsel
Buffe of Turkey Breast with Pistachio and Bacon Stuffing
Couscous Tabbouleh
Confetti Coleslaw
Mixed Lettuce Salad with Mariana's vinagrette
Salad of avocado, cucumber, tomato and spanish onion
Oven roasted capsicum, marinated in garlic, olive oil, white vinegar
Char-grilled eggplant marinated in garlic, olive oil, parsley, balsamic vinegar
Silverbeet, Feta and Ricotta Tart
Tomato Relish
Cranberry Sauce

Homemade Vanilla Slice with Passionfruit Icing
Freshly made fruit salad with mango, passionfruit, strawberries, grapes, blueberries, orange and peaches. Sorry, no photo, but it was absolutely delish!!!!!













Stuffing for the Turkey
5 or 6 slices of multigrain bread, trimmed of the crust, finely processed
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
60 or 70gm butter
2 rashers chopped bacon
1 small onion
1/2 cup whole pistachio's

Heat butter in pan, add peeled and chopped onion and bacon. Saute gently until onion is tender. Combine with remaining ingredients; salt and pepper if desired. Mix well.

Magical Montenegro and Mujo.

My oh my. How quickly time flies. I returned to Aussieland last Thursday. It felt so strange; I was getting used to handling the Euro currency, driving on the "opposite" side of the road; the numerous cyclists; the different landscapes and the cold snap that left me wearing all my clothes at once. Home was dry, hot and brown. It hasn't rained since I left hubby tells me. And it looks like it. I yearned for the brilliant greens in northern Montenegro and in Germany. I have been very pensive and I look forward to Mitch returning next week so we can talk about our adventures.

How does one answer the question; "how was your trip"? I certainly don't have a one liner or a couple of words to describe it. There were lots of ups and downs; heaps of experiences; tears of joy and sadness and moments of sheer exhilaration. Anger too. The main thing is we did it and we are so much the richer for it.

Our travels saw us go to Croatia, Germany, Serbia and Montenegro. We spent one whole month in Montenegro and it was marvellous. But not for the usual touristy reasons. We stayed with relations up north, in the city and in the mountains and then with other relatives down on the coast in Tivat.

Montenegro is such a land of contrast. The landscape is breathtakingly beautiful. Gorgeous aqua coloured sea water set beneath the most rugged and tallest of mountains. No wonder the Turks were unable to conquer the people in this terrain. The population today is small. About 700,000, if that. The country is small in size too. It's not even 200 kilometres from the sea to the northern border with Serbia. Not your usual 200 kms though. There are lots of bends to negotiate. Monsterous mountains to climb. Crazy risk taking drivers to beware of. And lots of dodgy cars that may not make the stretch.

It was another world. Nothing like Australia. Yet Mitch and I became very attached to this economically and financially depressed country. But most of all we became attached to the people. These people were real. No one ever "hid" their feelings. I will never forget Rajka; she managed to laugh, cry, scream and sigh all in the one breath! No joke. There were never any fascades. You always knew how people were going because you could see it. It was sooooooo refreshingly honest and raw.

My uncle Manojle lives in Potrk. He is 82 years old. He lives with his bedridden wife, Stana, and his 55 year old son, "Mujo"(pronounced Mooyour). Mujo is his nickname. Unfortunately when he was very little Mujo had an accident with boiling hot water that scored his skin straight through to his kidney. He was lucky to live. He received a massive shock to his system and his growth was stunted. He never married. He lives in the family home in the hills and looks after his parents and tends to all the jobs around the house. He also milks the cows, makes yoghurt and cheese, bakes bread and does all the cooking for the three members of the household.

Whenever something is needed, he rings his brother who lives thirty minutes away by car and Mujo's shopping is bought home by either his brother or nephew. His sister,also a nurse, comes up regularly because their mother needs an injection from time to time. Mujo is amazing. He gets on with his "lot" in life and I never once heard a word of complaint from him. His mother has been bedridden since January and he can never venture far. Whenever she calls him, he carefully tends to her needs. He places her on the sofa during the day so that she is with the family and then he takes her to bed at night. Mitch and I have never seen anything like it. There certainly was no form of respite for Mujo.

Mujo did all the cooking while we stayed there. And it wasn't just us. We had other relatives who also stayed and lots of local people from the village who wanted to see these people from "Australia". Mujo handled everything and delegated jobs to willing helpers. Everyone respected him and everyone did as they were asked. The whole experience of seeing Mujo and his world was a very humbling one indeed.

Mujo adored Mitch. Mitch certainly pulled his weight around the place. I was very surprised actually. Mitch went up in the hills with my cousins and cut and carried wood all day. He helped with cutting grass, raking and collecting to form hay bales. He worked on a number of occasions and they were all blown away by this Aussie boy who was happy to help them with their chores. Far from what they expected. It was only later, they told me they expected this boy from Australia was going to be a "cool" kid with designer labelled clothes, attached to his ipod and expecting to be served. Gosh how I laughed. Because along came Mitchell and he is none of those things. To use their words; "he was one of us", and they adored him.

Mujo was always careful to prepare and have good food for his "Mitchko". He would get up at 4am sometimes to prepare the bread dough for proving and sometimes he would also make these donut type balls called "kroffne". Mitch loved them and he would gobble them up with jam or his newly found favourite food "Eurocrem", sort of like Nutella. I watched Mujo as he watched his Mitchko eating the freshly made kroffne's. Mujo was beaming. We shall never forget him.



Mujo's Kroffne

I'm afraid a little baking knowledge is required because in this part of the world there are no recipes or exact measurements. Mujo created this dish purely based on the look and the feel of the dough. Good Luck.

bread flour
milk
water
sunflower oil
fresh yeast
2 eggs

Dissolve the yeast in some warm water. Add to the flour along with the beaten eggs, milk and a little oil.

Work to a smooth but stickly consistency. Rest till rises.

Mujo set aside for 2 hours. He says the rising shall depend on the quality of the flour.

When risen, place onto a well floured bench and knead. Knead till workable.

Roll out. Using a scone cutter; cut out round shapes. Allow to sit while bringing a large pot of oil to a hot temperature.

Place in only enough kroffne that will float on top of the oil. Turn with a fork till brown all over. Remove from oil. Keep warm while cooking the rest.

Mujo recommends making one on it's own; opening it up and seeing how well it is cooked before cooking in batches.

Recovery and Discovery

Recovery: Poor Hubby has been running himself into the ground. Trying to run a business and then racing and working on his farm all the while overseeing his calving cows and trying to protect them from wild dogs and dingoes. A bad cold was definitely not ordered. But he got one. I felt so sorry watching him go off this morning, heaving and coughing.I crossed my fingers desperately hoping any newborns would be okay; unlike last time. Right then, I decided that I would make a good old fashioned chicken noodle soup. Nothing but goodies in it. Hubby needed lots of goodies and there is nothing better for the soul or a 'cold' than chicken soup. I didn't need to hit the cookbooks for this one. I have been in 'throw-together' mode a bit lately and I have enjoyed feeling 'liberated'. I just hoped that a nutritious soup would help him recover sooner rather than later.

Chicken Noodle Soup

3 skinless lovely legs (drumsticks)
2 chicken necks
1 peeled carrot, cut in half
2 stalks celery, including leaves, roughly chopped
1 leek, roughly chopped
1 brown onion, cut in half
2 bay leaves
several whole black peppercorns
2 1/2 litres water
a bunch of continental parsley
4 green shallots
3/4 cup short, thin pasta

Place everything into the pot, except for the pasta and shallots. Put 1/2 the bunch of parsley into the pot; reserve remainder. Bring to boil; reduce to a simmer; cook for up to two hours; no longer.

Take out the chicken; set aside. Strain the liquid through a sieve, catching all the veggies in the strainer. Discard the cooked veggies.

Return the liquid to the pot; bring to boil; add pasta; boil till pasta is cooked through. It should take no more than three or four minutes. Take off heat; put in green shallots and whole leaves from a couple of parsley stalks. Remove all the meat from the chicken legs; shred or dice. Add to the soup. Keep the chicken necks whole and return those to the pot as well. Season with lots of cracked pepper and salt.

Delicious served steaming hot with some crunchy bread.

Discovery: A few nights ago I received an SMS from Mitch. He and Maxi began their bike trip last week from Stuttgart and their destination was to reach Amsterdam. It was very special to hear they were in Dusseldorf.

My mum was born in Dusseldorf, or at least I think she was. She died when I was almost two years old and I know hardly anything about her or her family. I won't go into detail but most of my upbringing has centered around the "Balkan" way. My half being German has played no significant role in my life. That is until my Aussie boy became best friends with a German boy.

Then his curiousity about his German ancestry began. He has a great deal of respect for German people and he thinks they are one of the smartest races on earth. Ah ha, maybe that is why Mitch fancies some German in him. The bottom line is he wants to know and he wants me to find out. I haven't really. It is almost like a scary place for me to go. But my curious boy just won't let it rest.

I leave in less than seven days. Yes, you heard me right. I'm going to Europe. I haven't been since 1981!! The plan is to meet up with Mitch and stay with Maxi and his family for a couple of days. We are being rather spontaneous about things and absolutely do not have things mapped out to a tee. It shall be interesting to say the least.

Our sketchy plan is to head down the Adriatic coast and reach Montenegro. From the coast we shall venture up into the continental part and through the mountainous terrain until we reach the village of 'Potrk', where my father was born back in 1924. My father would have been so proud of Mitch and so happy to learn about his grandson's interest in his European roots. My dad passed away three years ago.

The house is still there and my uncle and his wife are still alive. Mitch expressed a desire to stay with them for two weeks. He wants to experience their isolated part of world and work and live as they do in the mountains. Let's just say I don't think it is a place where many tourists, if any, are ever seen. Once again, it is going to be interesting.

After that we shall do some touristy things and visit the must see places in Montenegro. We have other relatives there so they will help us out and Mitch is looking forward to meeting his "on the other side of the world" relatives with whom he will not be able to communicate. Fortunately I can speak the language, so, phew.

The sketchy plan, then sees us heading to Greece for a short stint and I was hoping to see Crete and spend maybe even a week there. I am really fascinated with that place, so we shall see how it turns out. After that, back to Germany and Mitch will spend one last week with Maxi who should be back at university in Franfurt.

The week before that happens, we were thinking we might go to Dusseldorf and look into finding out about my mother and any of her relations. I have a strange, shaking feeling as I write. It is like going into the unknown and not knowing what I shall discover. And I am slightly scared. You probably think I am being foolish but that is how I feel.

Fear aside, I feel I owe it to my boy who has a clear and interested connection in his family roots. I need to do this. I have avoided it for a long time but now the time has come. I need to find out just exactly who I am.



See you in two months. Bye for now.
Mariana.

Orange Overdose

I was scratching my head wondering what to do with my oranges. They have been falling off the tree for the past two weeks. I have been retrieving as many as I can and using as much as I can but I am running out of ideas. Dear Filomena, down the road, said she was juicing and freezing her freshly squeezed orange juice. Fine, but what am I going to store all the juice in. Hmm. In the meantime.....I remembered a recipe that I absolutely adored many, many years ago.

When I lived in Wollongong I used to work occasionally for my hubby's aunt, Peg, who was a very successful caterer running her own business. Gosh I would have been 22 years old back then. A lifetime ago. It is fascinating when I recall the type of food that was popular at that time. Some of it was terribly sinful. I remember we used to go through loads of cream and butter, in both sweet and savoury dishes. Nobody had heard of olive oil back then. Olive oil was something you could purchase from the pharmacy in a small plastic bottle and it was supposed to be good for the skin. It certainly wasn't available for food purposes. Like I said; a lifetime ago.

In amongst this flood of memories I recall an orange recipe that Peg made from the Australian Women's Weekly. She was one of the test cooks at the Weekly and she never made anything unless it had been tested and endorsed by them. This particular recipe was probably one of the rare 'healthier' ones at that time. It was basically segmented oranges in a wonderful whisky syrup and the cream that she made to go with it was to die for. I hit the bookshelf; dusted off the cover and found the recipe.

Amazingly I didn't have to dash off to the shops to get anything. The oranges I collected fresh from the tree and the rest was easy. I wonder what my little trip down memory lane shall bring. I wonder if the oranges were going to taste as divine as they did all those years ago. Only one way to find out.

Whisky Oranges with Atholl Brose Cream
adapted from the Australian Women's Weekly

3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup scotch whisky
9 oranges
juice of one orange

Cream
1/2 cup cream
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon scotch whiskey

Combine sugar and water in a saucepan, stir over heat until sugar dissolves. Bring to boil, reduce heat, simmer for another 2 minutes. Remove from heat; add whisky, cool.

Remove all rind from oranges and all the white pith. This is slightly time consuming but necessary. Cut oranges into segments, cutting between membranes; do this over bowl, to catch all the juice.

Put into bowl, pour cooled syrup over, cover, refrigerate.

Whip cream, honey and whisky till thickened. Refrigerate till serving time. Oranges can be kept in fridge for several days. The longer it is left the more intense the flavour develops.

Simply whip more of the cream as needed or for a change try eating the oranges with some ice cream and straight whisky poured over the top. Double the dose but yummy.



Was it delicious? Yes, very. Was it as wonderful as my memory serves me? Not sure. I think my palate has changed since that time. It was a long, long time ago. Although it really is delicious it doesn't seem to be as "to die for" as I had thought. The oranges are truly wonderful but I think I would serve it with a honey, orange zested ricotta instead of the Atholl Brose cream. It is very decadent and I am aware that I shouldn't be indulging in too much cream these days. The days of the 'excessive eighties', at least for me, are over. I think I shall stick with ricotta or yoghurt instead.

Meringue an' Tang

I'm comfortable in my cooking. I must be. I recall years ago scouring through my cookbooks, picking out a recipe, making sure I had all the ingredients even if it meant going down the street for a sprig of rosemary or a stick of cinnamon. I'd re-read the recipe several times to make sure I "got" it, prep away and have all the appropriate cookware in place before I would commence. Honestly, it was like an orchestra about to perform on stage with yours truly being the very nervy conductor.

Ahh I'm chuckling at the absurdity of it all. But then I wonder if that is what I needed to do in order to get to where I am now. Maybe. Maybe that was my destined culinary journey to get comfortable in the kitchen. I look back and cringe at how 'seriously' I took it all. But I love how I am so much more relaxed and easy going now. Not to mention knowledgeable. I ought to know a thing or two because I have practised long enough! I think that definitely contributes to my sense of freedom and risk-taking in 'zee' kitchen.

I had three spare eggs. Beautiful free-range eggs. I had a hankering for lemon butter and so it began. I have been very unhappy with some of the lemon butter recipes I have tried. I feel they haven't explained the procedure well. Nor the ingredients. I get very annoyed when I see a recipe state "the juice of two lemons'. I would rather a measurement please!!! Like say 1/2 a cup or something. Some of our lemons are so big they would pass for grapefruits. Our average lemon is much bigger than a "shopsized" lemon, so how accurate do you think the juice of two lemons is. Ours would surely yield two cups and I am pretty certain the cookbooks don't mean two cups.

I'm not getting worked up; remember I'm relaxed in the kitchen these days. But things like this really annoy me because it is critical to the overall result. After making a few lemon butter recipes recently, following them to a tee, I have still ended up with disasters. The mixture separated. Therefore I am turfing the books. I have decided to "boldly" steer this orchestra without the sheets of music. Yep. I am making it up. Or perhaps what I ought to be saying is, I am drawing on my years of experience. I am challenging myself to see what being in a comfortable, relaxed and confident place in my cooking will bring.



My Lemon Butter

1 lemon
2/3 cup of lemon juice
130gm unsalted butter, cubed
180gm castor sugar
3 egg yolks

Peel the rind from the lemon into long strips. I used a large lemon and peeled most of the rind. If you don't want too much lemon "zing", then only peel a couple of strips of rind.

Place the rind, lemon juice, butter and sugar into a glass or ceramic bowl. Using a heavier bowl offers you more control from the mixture curdling. Bring a saucepan with a 'little' water in it to boil. Of course it depends on the size of your saucepan. You want enough water in there so as not to boil the saucepan dry but it mustn't in any way be too close or touching the bowl. One and a half cups of water was sufficient for my saucepan.

Bring the water to boil. Turn right down to a gentle simmer. Place your bowl with ingredients over the saucepan. Using a wooden spoon stir occasionally till the sugar has dissolved.

Take off the heat; add egg yolks one at a time, whisking each one well as you go.

Return to heat and continue to stir slowly over a very low simmer till mixture has thickened and easily coats the back of the wooden spoon. This requires nuturing so expect to stand and stir for about 20 to 30 minutes. Remove from heat.

Empty the hot water from the saucepan; dry quickly with a clean teatowel. Strain the mixture into the hot saucepan; strain well. Pour immediately into jar. Seal when cooled.

This quantity gave me two small jars. My little pots of lemon butter were gorgeous. The yellow was brilliant, probably as a result of our happy chooks. I was very pleased with the taste too. Vibrant with lots of "tang". If you prefer quite a thick lemon butter then I recommend you mix a little cornflour with some lemon juice and add it towards the end of cooking. I am happy with a looser consistency, so generally I was happy overall. Take a bow!




What does one do with three egg whites? Well my fabulous neighbour Filomena would make biscotti in a jiffy. Hmmm. Not sure my lemon butter would go with that. I haven't made a pavlova or meringue in ages. I remained in cookbook rejection mode and carried on in confidence mode. Let's see how this one turns out.

My Meringue

3 egg whites
a good dash of cream of tartar
almost one cup of caster sugar
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
2 teaspoons of lemon juice

Place the egg whites and cream of tartar into a clean, glass bowl. Using hand-held electric beaters, beat till the mixture works up into a good froth. Add vanilla extract; beat a little more. Begin adding the sugar and whisking at the same time. I added about a tablespoon to begin with then increased the quantity slowly. Make sure you keep beating the whole time.

Once all the sugar has been added; beat till the mixture looks nice, firm and glossy. My beating time took about 12 minutes. With one minute to go, I added the lemon juice and whisked this right through the mixture. Done.

I took a small baking sheet and lined it with baking paper. I know from past experience pavlovas can be difficult to remove. Especially as they can release moisture from the sugar that hasn't dried out enough. For extra caution, lightly grease the baking paper and sprinkle lightly with some cornflour. This should ensure easier removal.

Spread the meringue mixture over the sheet and using a flat knife level out evenly.

Place into a very low heated oven. No kidding it has to be low. It's tricky for me to know how to explain this one. I didn't use my regular oven, but instead a small grill and convention oven that sits on one of the kitchen benches. I baked it for about two hours on 80degrees celcius. You would have to use your intuition and your oven light to determine how long to bake this. I am guessing in the bigger oven I would bake it at about 110 or 120 degrees celcius for about 1 hour. Approximately. It's your call. Whatever you do, do not open the oven door!

When you feel the meringue has cooked; just leave it in the oven to cool. Don't take it out. You will get less cracks that way.

I did have some liquid seepage from the sugar; but that's fine. It was a lovely colour with a beautiful crispiness. I was very happy.



So here goes the fun bit. I cut up the meringue into equal parts. Spread with some whipped cream, topped with some beautiful strawberries I purchased from the farmer's market, drizzled with lemon butter. Top with some more meringue; continue layering with more cream and lemon butter if desired.



As chance would have it, I was taking photos of this very creation when one of Nikka's friends Kyle happened along. He walked in bemused to find me taking photos of my little meringue delight. The funny part is, Kyle is a "serious" photographer with amibitions of turning professional. He is working towards this goal and I am confident he will make it. He is very good. I only wish he had his gear strapped on him at the time so that I could have had an 'amazing' shot of my meringue. Oh well, I think you get the picture.

After my little shoot, we sat down and ate my lemon butter meringue together and I lost count of the amount of times Kyle used the word "awesome". I think that means its good. Is that clapping I can hear? Time for another bow.