give credit to the rooster crowing for the rising of the sun

Monday 18 October 2010

Grains Nobles


Couscous is nice. “Keep moving, Sir. Nothing to see here.” One of my favourite comfort dishes, created of necessity, is haggis (Macsween, natch) on a bed of couscous with a dollop of crème fraiche, a splurt of harissa, and a sprinkling of chopped coriander. Sacrilicious!

But couscous is old (red fuzzy-felt) hat. Quinoa, millet and amaranth are where it's at, Daddy-O. I know, I know, they sound like hair products. But they are cheap, nutritious, and delicious.

The following salad can be made with quinoa or millet. It is important to toast the grains in a dry frying pan to intensify the nutty flavours. You can substitute other veg and flavourings to suit your mood.

Millet salad

Measure out 250g millet (enough for 4 as a side dish), rinse and drain well. Dry fry in a non-stick pan for 6-8 minutes, stirring continuously, until the millet is completely dry and starts releasing a nutty odour.

Meanwhile, finely chop 2 ribs of celery, 1 chopped fresh chilli and 1 small onion. Fry at medium heat in a dash of vegetable oil for 5 minutes. Now add 1 heaped tsp garam masala and a chopped red pepper and fry for half a minute. Add the millet, 3 cups of water, a small handful of sultanas and ½ tsp salt, and bring to the boil. Cook, covered, for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. The millet should swell and absorb all the water.

Add 1 finely chopped spring onion, a generous handful of halved cherry tomatoes and some fresh herbage (parsley, coriander, dill or mint). Check for seasoning. Transfer to a serving bowl and splash over a little olive oil.

I ate this with some smoked peppered mackerel, and a little sauce of horseradish purée mixed with sour cream.

Thursday 14 October 2010

Uborka Saláta



This Hungarian cucumber salad is a good accompaniment for a braai or a potjie. This makes enough for 4 people:

Uborka Saláta


Peel and thinly slice a cucumber, ditto a clove of garlic. Spread the slices in a bowl and sprinkle with 1 heaped tsp salt. Leave for 1 hour, turning occasionally, and then tip the water that has leached out away.

Make a vinaigrette: ¼ cup water, 1 tbsp white vinegar, 1 heaped tsp sugar and a good grind of white pepper. Stir thoroughly, and taste – there should be a good balance between sweet and tart. You may need to add more sugar. Pour this over the cucumber, and allow to stand for 30 minutes.

To serve, spoon the cucumber onto a plate, leaving most of the liquid behind. Spoon over ½ cup stirred sour cream which has been thinned with a little yoghurt or milk.

Sprinkle with paprika or dill. Artless presentation photo optional.

Egészségedre!

Friday 8 October 2010

Toxic Sludge


I got a text today from my great-aunt Hortense (like the Victorians with Queen Victoria, I didn't know she had legs under those voluminous skirts, let alone that she had mastered the ability to text, those gnarly thumbs being better suited to gripping a triple g&t than punching out an emoticon – I assume she dictated to a quivering underling), asking me “what the hell have I done to the Danube?" Hell indeed. It looks like Satan’s boudoir in west Hungary, people in Hazmat suits wading knee deep in Oros to rescue bedraggled pussy cats stuck up trees. Damage is so severe at ground zero that there is apparently no point in reconstruction, and it could be devoid of flora and wildlife for decades. Spare a thought for the locals, who will have to be relocated.

I guess catfish is off the menu for the foreseeable.

It's time to start stocking up on tinned pineapple and bottled water. And strange preserved things in glass jars, like a mad scientist's collection of HR Giger knockoffs in formaldehyde:

Hot cherry peppers stuffed with tuna and anchovy


Hooray for Hungary, with it's bewildering array of peppers (pritamin, cseresznye, kaliforniai, paprika, eröspaprika have found their way down my equal opportunity gullet to date). I pounced on some cseresznyepaprika (cherry peppers) at the market this week, and I immediately knew what I was going to do with them.

My cousin's mother-in-law makes a mean pepper stuffed with tuna. She is the type of formidable Italian woman who knows what to do with a pig's head, who has a larder stored with seasonal stuff harvested or purchased in abundance and then preserved to last out the winter. These peppers are a punchy, savoury treat, great as antipasto or with a Campari and soda.

This recipe is sufficient for 30 peppers, enough to fill a litre preserve jar.

With a small sharp knife, cut out the stalk and remove the seeds. Half fill a large saucepan with water and add 3 cups of white wine vinegar, bring to the boil and add the peppers in batches of 30, cooking for 5-7 minutes until the peppers have softened slightly. Do not let them become mushy. Drain well and allow to dry for 1 hour, cut side down.

To make the stuffing, empty into a food processor 2 tins of tuna in oil (not water), 5 anchovies, 1 heaped tsp drained capers, 2 tbs chopped flat leaf parsley, salt and pepper. Pulse until smooth and then add 2 tbs olive oil in a thin stream until the mixture is uniform.

You can spoon this into the peppers with a small teaspoon (fiddly), or use a piping bag or clean silicon sealant gun (thanks Sam!). Make sure the mixture displaces all the air in the peppers, and fill to the top.

Now pack the peppers cut side up into a sterilised jar. Fit them as snugly as possible. Top up with cheap olive oil (I used pomace, Nonna would probably have used that heady perfumed cold first press extra virgin stuff she puts on salads too). I'm sure these will last in the fridge for months, but I have no intention of finding out. They are delicious.

Monday 4 October 2010

Kısır


Luanda is the most expensive city in the world for ex-pats to live in 2010. Tokyo is just nudged into second place. The annual Mercer study takes New York as the base measure for prices, comparing over 200 items, including housing, transport, food, clothing, household goods and entertainment, in 143 cities across the globe. It is around $11 for a cup of coffee in Moscow. Glowering barrista at no extra charge.

In Budapest, Culinaris deli is probably the only place to snaffle a pomegranate out of season. I saw some for around $9 each in June. No dice. Roll on October, and you can pick them up in the big markets for less than $1. “Seasonal” has become an oft trotted out phrase of trend watchers, but it assuredly makes economic and environmental sense. Plus, stuff tastes best in season. I'm just prostrate, hands clasped in fervid supplication, glad tears garnishing the gouty feet of Aristaios (the rustic god of shepherds and cheese-making), that cheese is a year round phenomenon.

Kısır with pomegranate and celeriac tops


This fresh, substantial Turkish salad can be eaten warm or at room temperature. I ate it with the chicken recipe in the next post.

Sweat an onion in a little olive oil. Once it begins to colour, add a handful of quartered cherry tomatoes, 1 tsp tomato purée or harissa and a small bunch of celeriac tops (beet or celery tops, or parsley can be substituted) and cook for 2 minutes. Now add 250g bulgur wheat and 100ml water. Bring to the boil, remove immediately from the heat, and add the following: 1 tbs pomegranate molasses (turksvye stroop works just as well if you're reading this on the stoep in Putsonderwater, peach mampoer in an enamel mug within easy reach of your beefy paw), a glug of verjuice, 1 chopped fresh chilli, 2 chopped spring onions, 1 tsp ground cumin, and seasoning to taste. Put a lid on the pan and stand for 20 minutes for the bulgur to soften and soak up the water. Stir in 1 tsp of dried mint or dill, and scatter over the seeds of 1 pomegranate and a drizzle of olive oil.