Monday, 25 January 2010

Drop Scones

Gosh, I love it when good friends visit. This weekend I was treated to the company of a very old friend and her husband. Being newlyweds, these two are a delight to be around as they genuinely glow with togetherness. They also happen to make rather good food and I’m not one to turn down the offer of someone else cooking for me, especially when it means I can pinch any of their tried and tested recipes. The Sunday morning brought fresh winter sunshine and I was woken by some clonking about in the kitchen. After wrapping up against the chill I was greeted with the sight of my friends whisking up some drop scone mix. A very large portion of Thai curry the night before had me wondering whether I could manage anything that substantial for breakfast, but the result was actually very light and fluffy. We hurriedly polished off the entire batch with maple syrup, Drunken Monkey (see previous post), and apricot jam. All washed down with huge mugs of tea and plenty of nattering. Here’s the original recipe from Rachel Allen:

100g (4oz) self raising flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
25g (1oz) caster sugar
Pinch of salt
1 organic egg
125ml (4fl oz) milk
Drop of sunflower oil, for greasing

Sieve the flour and baking powder into a bowl, add the sugar and salt and stir to mix. Make a well in the centre, crack in the egg and whisk, gradually drawing in the flour from the edge. Add the milk gradually, whisking all the time, to form a smooth batter.

Lightly grease a frying pan and warm it over a moderate heat. Drop 3 tablespoons of the batter into the pan, keeping them well apart so they don't stick together. Cook for about 2 minutes, until bubbles appear on the surface and begin to burst and the drop scones are golden underneath (and not before).Then flip them over and cook on the other side for a minute or so, until golden on this side as well. Remove from the pan and serve warm.

Monday, 18 January 2010

Ridiculously Good Chilli

If I ever have visitors which I haven’t seen a long time, I like to spend as little time as possible in the kitchen. I’m not one of these lucky people who have a big island in the centre of their workspace which they can prop up a friend on and natter away while they prepare a meal. If I’m cooking, I’m pretty much the only one who can fit in the room without being in danger of knocking over steaming pots. A great fallback dish which can be made in advance (and is in fact better if eaten the day after) is chilli con carne. It’s one of those dishes that can be absolutely delicious, but so many people cook badly. Here’s a recipe which has never failed and always has people asking for second helpings:

A little olive oil
1 large red onion, chopped
3 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 tsp chilli powder (or 2 fresh red chillies, chopped)
1 tsp cumin
½ tsp coriander
A stick of cinnamon
1 beef stock cube
1kg lean, locally reared beef mince
A large glass of shiraz (or merlot if you can’t find that)
2 cans of chopped tomatoes
2 cans of kidney beans, drained
Rice or crusty bread to accompany

Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan and soften the onions, then add the mince and garlic and stir until browned. Pop the red wine in (and pour one for yourself) and bring to the boil. Simmer for a few minutes, then add all remaining ingredients, pop the lid on and simmer gently for approximately 1 hour or until the chilli is lovely and thick. Snaffle it up with some rice or bread and a spot of sour cream to add another depth of texture and temperature.

Photo courtesy of Michelle.

Wednesday, 6 January 2010

Rockpool in Sydney

Although the most expensive meal I have ever eaten, Rockpool in Sydney certainly lived up to its reputation. It was an incredible experience from start to finish (well, not quite as the amuse-bouche was about as amusing as a large fish egg floating in custardy soup, plonked into a shot glass, can possibly get). My dining partner and I chose the four course a la carte menu so we could sample a little of everything. To start I had green lip abalone, red braised thirlmere goose, chicken crisps and fine noodles with xo dressing. It sounds like a huge meal doesn’t it, but in fact it was a lovely fist-sized dish, plenty for the first course. I was intrigued by the chicken crisps which turned out to be a very thin slice of chicken skin, baked until it had become a wafer thin and would melt in the mouth. The whole dish was wonderfully savoury, yet left a slight sweetness right at the end, especially when consumed with the rather nice bottle of Australian Sauvignon Blanc we had.

For round two, I had grilled hervey bay scallops with sweet corn crepe and mussel butter. For me, this was the highlight of the meal. It’s one of the most delicious combinations I have ever eaten. I regrettably forgot to take a photo to display the simplicity of it, but I was far too involved in getting it into my mouth. The creaminess of the sweetcorn, the hint of the sea from the mussel butter and the gentle resistance from the scallops as I bit into them was to die for. I would pay a lot of money to be back in Oz right now and eating that dish.

The third course was a work of art in itself; bright smears of red pepper jus accompanied a lovely pink piece of slow cooked castricum lamb, braised breast, baby radishes and olives. Caper berries and tiny purple flowers gave another flash of colour to this edible collage. The lamb could’ve done with ever so slightly longer in the oven for my tastes, but it wasn’t bleating so it can’t be all bad.

I can never resist a cheese platter if it’s on a dessert menu, so I chose this for my fourth course and was treated to a very pokey blue, a tangy hard cheese (similar to cheddar), and a creamy camembert like piece. All delicious, especially when washed down with a glass of vintage tokay. The entire meal was very well complimented with attentive yet not overly obsequious service (I feel rather uncomfortable when waiters are so grovelling that if you asked them to chew your dinner for you, they would probably oblige). I’d recommend Rockpool to anyone, provided you have a good couple of hundred quid to burn.