Only beans? This must be too boring! Aha! You would be surprised…that is the secret. This simple dish inspired by the film, the Malaga Beanfield War, and it shouts (or sprouts): power food. You could go to battle with this soup…I love it. If you use different kinds of beans it just adds that extra: mmmm-factor… Serve it with tortillas, made the way my sister, Olivia, demonstrates in the pics.
How to gear yourself for feeding 4 people:
One onion
½ chilli (or more if you like it hot)
2 garlic cloves
4 more-or-less 8 cm sticks celery
One bay leaf
4 mixed cans of any beans of you feel like, for example chickpeas, cannellini beans, butter beans, red kidney beans, lentils…
2T extra-virgin olive oil
500ml home made veggie stock
At the end, to garnish:
One fresh red tomato
One small handful coriander leaves
A few gratings Parmeggiano cheese
More ideas to garnish:
Sour cream or crème fraiche
Lime juice
Avo slices
(Stick to 2/3 garnishes, it’s your choice which)
4 Tortillas, to serve
How to start training:
Chop the onion into chunks of roughly 1cm and the celery sticks in chunks about ½ cm thick. With a generous hand, add the olive oil to a medium-sized deep pan or casserole dish and put it on a medium heat. When the oil it ready and heated, about 30 seconds, add your onions and let go of the celery in as well. Turn down the heat to a low flame. Using a wooden spoon, stir the onions and celery a bit in the oil and let it cook gently for 7 minutes, also stirring occasionally. The aim is not to let it burn much, rather go for soft and melting onions and celery. Meanwhile, peel the garlic cloves by cutting off a very small piece at the end and the crushing it lightly with the side of your knife, so that the skin comes loose. Grate the garlic finely, and then chop the chilli! If you like things hot – use the seeds as well, if you like it mellows – scrape out the seeds. Dice it quite fine, because munching on a chunk of chilli is not so romantic. Add the garlic and chilli to your pan and let it cook for another 2 minutes, while you drain the beans of all its juices. This done, add your beans and stock and let in cook for 20 minutes in a medium heat. Don’t forget about it – it still needs love whilst bubbling away, so stir every now-and-then. You can dice the tomato, slice the avo, or chop the coriander and grate the parmeggiano so long, depending on what you chose. Get a pan ready for the tortillas. When the soup is done, turn it off and start by slicing the tortillas in triangles (as shown), heat up a non stick pan and go for it! Garnish and serve. Good stuff.
Grandmothers are legends – and from them we inherit legend recipes. This lemon tart is much like my ouma Awe (pronounced A-wwwie, with the kind of friction in your throat an Afrikaans ‘w’ would make) – a twist on the traditional, utterly unforgettable, and clever – on top of all that! In memory of my ouma Awe from Brandfort, a town in the Free State.
For one piece of Ouma’s inheritance:
One packet of Tennis – of Marie biscuits
150g butter
1 tin Condensed milk
2 eggs
4 T freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 T castor sugar
How to go about using the inheritance:
Firstly, turn in your oven on 200 degrees Celsius. Put your biscuits in a sealable bag (for example a large ziplock bag), let all the air go out and seal it. Using a roller pin or empty wine bottle, roll over the biscuits and crush them into very fine crumbs. Next melt the butter in the microwave for about 1 minute on high or in a small pan. Shake the biscuit crumbs into a medium-sized bowl and add the melted butter, then stir to combine well. Take out your tart tin, or any dish similar, and pour roughly 3/4 of the mixture into the tin. Now -hands on – press! Spread it out so that it builds up out to the sides, but keep a good base as well. All-in-all try to get some all over, as even as possible. Place it in the fridge to set a bit.
Pour the condensed milk into a bowl. Next take out a smaller spotless bowl of stainless steel, and separate your 2 eggs, the whites in the stainless steel bowl and the yolks in with the condensed milk. How to separate? Crack the egg carefully in the middle against the side of a bowl, while holding it in your hand. Keep the stainless steel bowl under you and using both hands, carefully open the egg and let the white slide down into the bowl. Next slide the yolk, keeping it whole, in your one hand and let the white run through your slightly open fingers. Place the yolks in with the condensed milk. Don’t let the yellow spoil the whites’ complexion – it will make it incapable of becoming stiff! Using an electric whisk (using your hand and a whisk is extremely labour-intensive, tried and tested!) whisk the egg whites until turn white-white and can hold soft peaks – when you lift up the whisk, it stays. Add the castor sugar and whisk another round. Next swop your bowl for the condensed milk and yolks and whisk well until it is well combined. Keep going and add the lemon juice a bit at a time. Take out a metal spoon (to keep the air) and fold in the egg whites with the other mixture in circular, voluptuous movements until no white streak remains. Spoon this out into the tart base. For the final touch, sprinkle the remaining quarter of the biscuit crumbs on the top. Bake it in the preheated oven for 15-20 minutes. It is ready when the top has coloured to caramel slightly and you can smell it. You will not believe how good this is!
It was December 2006 in Morocco – my family and another family, the Dreyers, found ourselves in a carpet shop in the Imperial City of Fes. We could not believe our eyes (or our stomachs for that matter) – sitting in this surreal room, having lunch of salad, marinated olives and bread, among millions of large rugs collecting dust in the corners of the majestic riad (close to a mansion, with the rooms designed around a patio). Nevertheless, the lunch did not come priceless – we were eagerly offered some carpets afterwards: “Shock me with your price. I give you very good price,” (nothing is sold without bargaining first in Morocco).
A page alone cannot begin to describe how the northernmost country of Africa captured my heart… . Now, where I am living in the southernmost tip of Africa, there are still the bright memories of one of the best holidays I had in my life with my family and friends. This is one of the recipes I brought back with me and it allows one to travel over deserts, jungles and oceans to experience Morocco – all in just a serving of this salad.
What do you need to go on this trip?
Only 8 of the reddest tomatoes
One red onion
2 T chopped mint (a small bunch)
2 T good extra virgin olive oil
A big pinch salt
Freshly ground black pepper, three or four grinds
3 T freshly squeezed lemon juice
A pinch of icing sugar
Your itinerary:
Take out your serving bowl (a plate will look gorgeous) and ingredients. There is one thing of tomatoes, actually two, which make or break the tomato – never store tomatoes in the fridge (excepts mini ones) and always go for the reddest ones – and then Mohammed’s your uncle! Firstly cut your onion from the root to the top part where the leaves sprouted from, length-ways in half. Peel it and discard (if it goes onto your compost heap, you are doing your bit to the environment too), then cut it in thin slices. Do this with both halves. Toss the slices into your serving bowl, while loosening the bits of the onion. Cut the tomato in quarters, the chunkier the better, but you still want to be able to put it into your mouth in one bite! I don’t like fighting with huge pieces of salad ingredients at all, it must be totally recognisable but also chewable. Morocco will really come to town when you chop the mint finely next, and then add it. In with the lemon juice, salt, pepper, and olive oil. Morocco has arrived – it is ready to serve – with bread and olives, with your invention, with a tagine, or on its own as a refreshing lunch.
These two ingredients are like a soon-to-be married couple – unusually fresh and new. It does seem like a strange combination at first, Mr Avo is not usually seen with Mademoiselle Papaya, but as soon as they are placed on a bed of rocket and dressed with a splash of good balsamic vinegar, all your doubts will have gone. Try this engagement, it may just be the recipe to a successful marriage…
For a couple:
One avocado pear (are they ever-so-slightly yielding and soft if you press against the skin? If it is rock hard, you’ve got a immature boy in your hands)
Half a big or one small papaya
Half a packet or two small handsful rocket leaves
A good drizzle of the best Balsamic Vinegar you can find
One or two grinds of pepper
How to go about it:
The papaya is extra seductive if you store it in the fridge beforehand, but that is not necessary. Wash your rocket in a colander and and shake the water off to drain. Place in a flattish bowl. Cut the papaya in half and take the skin off, scrape out the seeds. Now cut the halves, as you would do with chips and place it on top of the rocket. Follow with the avo, which can be a bit of a pain in the backside with taking off the skin, but it well worth the effort. I usually end up with quite a mash, so I tried cutting the avo in half, taking out the pith and holding it in one hand, slicing the avo in the skin in pieces and then scooping it out with a spoon. The salad is now ready to be dressed, be yourself and drizzle the balsamic with love. Grind over the pepper and serve with anything you like or on its own.
Warning! This does not include a recipe, it is just something I wrote, after receiving a writing assignment. If you had 500 words, with the topic: any interjection, what would you write? I decided to write of something I know…hehe …
“Table six: three tuna steaks, two quails, one ravioli and five salads!” As I try and glean my brain, orders file in like soldiers on parade. Already, I am behind with two orders.
“Station 4, will you bloody-‘ell ‘urry up!” bellows the chef. “Order 85 ees going out,” Chef says as I plonk my sides on the plate. A plate of beautifully pink tuna steak marrying well with the grilled asparagus, which is looking dazzling in garnish of the aioli, passes my nose. Then the wedding bell rings and I sauté back from my euphoria. Flames roar liberally like monsters in a scary movie, endless tears are wept without sorrow over onions. The stations, all with different purposes, become a liaison of aromas – onions sweating, steaks searing, vegetable sautéing and salad garnishing.
The orders do not become less. Quite the contrary, they become more. The experienced Chef gets redder in the face and young station chefs paler. It is only the food that sustains their colour; I witness a Tortellini elegantly entering with a two-step into the dining room, followed by a dish well worth its salt, Bangers and Mash. I see how a bunch of wild mushrooms and a thousand grains of rice evolve into a simple Mushroom Risotto, then off to the hot pass and perfectly balanced on a waiters hand to land in front of a guest. At last a killer Death by Chocolate – a trio of dark chocolate created into three different taste sensations – makes it way through the pastry section and is swiftly lifted from the hot pass, any later and we would have Chocolate Soup. Avarice rushes through each one of the young chefs, we would give our front teeth to be in the guests’ shoes. Even though we knew it from the beginning, this is the only way you can work yourself up to the top. We live for this way of live and work, otherwise none of us would be here, but in the shoes of our guests. There is no time to take a breath outside, as the amount of orders are creating a mountain in front of me. “I have to chop faster,” my mind races at 200 km/h. I get caught-up in the motion of chopping, chopping …
“Arggh!” Blood spurts out and flows like the Nile onto my chopping board. I grasp the kitchen towel and try to cut off the blood seeping through from my finger. Imagine green vegetables tossed in a red sauce being served in front of the guests…
“Chef!”
“Oui!”
“My finger is badly cut!”
Suddenly, I find myself in the Chef’s shadow. Slowly, he lifts up his hands from his sides to bare his hands. They are rough, they have large marks all over them, and the left hand is missing a thumb…
“Tch-tch,” replies the chef.
Roulade, roulade, roulade, roulade rolls from your tong and plate. This recipe was inspired by one of my all-time hero’s, Sam Stern, being a teen himself, wrote a teen’s survival cookbook. This one I made for Helette, a small something to say happy 21st!
Makes one big cake for 10 people or 3 small ones
You need:
Sunflower oil or Cook ‘n Spray, for greasing.
250 grams dark chocolate
160ml castor sugar
5 eggs
4 ½ T espresso or strong coffee, freshly made
Icing sugar, for dusting
One carton (250ml) double cream or mascarpone
250g strawberries or other berries, as you wish
To make someone’s wish come true:
Preheat the oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Take a tin about 23 x 33 cm or 3 loaf tins and line with greaseproof paper, and grease it. Fold it so that it fits nicely; let the paper stick out around the sides. Separate your eggs with clean hands, no oil, the whites going into a small stainless steel bowl and the yolks in another. Whisk the whites until they form stiff peaks, about 3 minutes with an electric whisk. Add the castor sugar to the yolks and whisk them until it turns light in colour and resembles what would be eggy mousse. Break the chocolate finely into a heavy-bottomed, non-stick pan and add the espresso. Let this melt over a very low heat, take care not to burn at all, and keep whisking! This will only take you less than one minute. Add the melted chocolate to the yolks and fold in with a big metal spoon. Next fold in the egg whites with the spoon. The odd spot of white is does not matter. Pour the mixture into the tin and bake for 25 minutes for the big tin, if you insert a knife in the middle and it comes out clean then hey! It is ready! The loaf tins will take approx. 15 minutes. It may be cracked at the top, that is fine, and it will also sink after it cools down. Let it cool down for at least 15 minutes. Whisk the double cream so long, and add some orange zest if you like it. Smooth it over the roulade with a knife, not to thick, not to thin, just right. Lift the short end of the roulade and roll it away from you so that it looks like an odd Swiss roll. Peel off the baking parchment as you roll. Take it easy, it may crack and break but it is not the end of the world. Keep rolling until you come to the end of it, transfer to a plate, cut and toss a few strawberries around it and dust with icing sugar (use a sift). Happy eating!
Filed under: I want to eat dinner now!
To serve 6 people with plenty left for you tomorrow:
1kg stewing beef, cut into cubes of roughly 3cmx3cm
2 large onions
50 grams butter
Good pinch salt (about ½t)
1 heaped tablespoon sweet Hungarian paprika (keep an eye out for it at delis)
2 x cans whole tomatoes
300g baby potatoes
Put on your oven on 170 degrees Celsius. In a heavy pot (that can go in the oven, for example a potjie) melt the butter and then add the onions and beef. Let it fry for about 5 minutes, so that the onions turn an even, golden colour. Use your spoon to get a look at the juices at the bottom of the pan, oozing with deliciousness! Next add the salt and paprika, and mix thoroughly. Your stew will now turn a light golden and orange colour, which is all good. Add the tomatoes and half a tomato can of water in the pot. Pop that all in the oven, with a lid on. Leave it in there 1 ½ hours, stirring every now-and-then. This done, chop in half the potatoes and add, with another half a tomato tin of water. Place it back in the oven and forget about it for another 45 minutes. After this, check if your potatoes are soft by inserting a knife in the middle of a potato, if it slides in and out easily is ready. Now eat! With mash potatoes or fluffy basmati rice or just like that. Today or tomorrow.
Take a rainy day, a few winter veggies and some sausage and you have yourself a soup oh- so-good you won’t mind drowning (your bread) in it… this Spicy Chorico and Vegetable Bean Soup is the perfect reason to stay inside on a rainy day.
It is definitely worth making a lot of it – so that you can still enjoy it a day later, for the rest of the week (just reheat thoroughly in a pan) or a month later (implying that it freezes well!).
All right, here goes:
For at least 18 helpings:
One pack streaky bacon
One chorico sausage
3 large onions (2 red and 1 brown, substitute with 3 normal brown onions, cuts no ice)
8 large carrots
4 big leeks (we did not have any so they were omitted, but they add goodness)
10 stalks celery (if readily cut in 8cm sticks, but otherwise it should make about 2 cups when chopped)
2 tins tomatoes (for a twist-in-the-tale use some tinned cherry tomatoes)
3 (225g each) tins beans (butter, red kidney, canellini)
2 litres home-made Chicken stock, or cubes mixed with hot water)
How it started:
Wake up and have breakfast in bed. At about 12h30, start chopping your onions into rough cubes, carrots into rounds as well as the celery and leeks. Put it aside. See this as the remedying part. Using a pair of kitchen scissors (it really is easier) or just cut it into strips with your knife. Don’t make it too small, otherwise it may disappear. The same goes when you chop up things, especially for a stock. If you are going to cook it for a long time, then bigger is better, because the flavour must still linger after all that time in the pot. Thinly slice the sausage into rounds (I used to cut it into thick rounds until the Spanish showed me otherwise). Now add the bacon and chorico with a swig of olive oil in a big pot, and fry to crisp up over a medium heat. This will take about five minutes. Next add all the chopped veggies (except the leeks ) to the pot and let it sweat (with the lid on) on a low heat. Let it sweat away for 5 minutes, after 5 add the leeks and let it sweat for another 5 minutes. During this time, don’t forget about the veggies, take your wooden spoon and mix to combine every now and then. Drain the beans of their juices and add them to the pot. Add the tomatoes as well. Hear it sizzle and add the stock (just enough to cover the veggies, use your own instincts as a guide), to hear it smother the sizzle. Add a lot of freshly ground pepper, but don’t reach for the salt, the sausage is known to be quite salty and spicy. Bring to the boil over a high heat and then when it bubbles, turn it down to a simmer (over a low heat, it will let out small bubbles) for 30 minutes.
Serve now, piping hot with some crusty bread and butter, parmeggiano cheese, soft brie and a pear for dessert. Now that is how I like lunch.
