Saturday, 26 May 2012

Vegan Dinner Party: Part 2 - Roasted cauliflower and baba ganoush

Following on from my previous post about last week's vegan dinner party, here's the next recipe installment, for the main course of roasted cauliflower and chickpea salad with baba ganoush. 

As I think I have mentioned before, eggplant/aubergine is one of my very favourite things to eat.  In baba ganoush, which is basically a roasted eggplant puree, it bears very little resemblance to its usual texture, form or flavour but is still delicious.  Usually served as a dip, baba ganoush takes the soft flesh of the eggplant, tasting of a subtle smokiness imparted by the charred skin, and combines it with tahini, garlic and lemon to make the best thing ever to put on sliced bread.  (Well, maybe the second best or the third best... beetroot dip has to be up there too, and simple ripe tomato slices with a sprinkle of sea salt and fresh-ground black pepper.  Mmmmm.)

Some versions of this dish are loaded with tahini and olive oil to the point that the dip almost becomes a mayonnaise, creamy and thick-textured.  I prefer the kind where you can still tell it was once an aubergine, where the puree is more juicy than creamy, and with plenty of lemon.  I added sliced basil to this version, and might add a dash of chilli next time if cooking for other spiceheads like me.

Instead of using it as a dip, in this case I used it as a base on which to pile crispy, spice-coated florets of roasted cauliflower and chickpeas.  Since discovering roasted cauliflower last year I have made it on several occasions, including for parties as a nibble and Christmas dinner as an accompaniment, but it really is good enough to eat as the main event in itself, and eminently suitable for a vegan dinner.  Chickpeas and flaked almonds add a bit of extra body, and a squeeze of fresh lemon perks up everything.  I added soft strips of roasted pepper on the top for even more flavour, spooned some tomato-cucumber-onion-parsley salsa around for freshness, and garnished with a few crisp-baked pita wedges for texture -- and as a nod to the more familiar form of baba ganoush.



Baba ganoush
5 medium aubergines
1/3 cup tahini
2 lemons
3-4 cloves garlic, crushed
2 tbs olive oil
1/2 cup basil leaves, shredded
salt, pepper

Place whole eggplants under a hot grill and cook until skin is blackened (it will turn lighter first as it cooks, then start to char); turn and cook similarly on other side.  Continue to cook until flesh is very soft.  Once eggplants are cool enough to handle, cut in half and scoop out flesh, stripping off skin.  Add tahini, zest of both lemons and juice of one, garlic and olive oil; whiz with hand blender (or mash well with fork) until pureed but not completely smooth.  Stir in basil, taste and adjust seasoning with sea salt, freshly-ground pepper and extra lemon juice as required.

Roasted cauliflower
2 large cauliflowers
2 tbs olive oil
3 tbs ground cumin
3 tbs ground coriander
1 tbs chilli powder
1 tbs chilli flakes
1 1/2 tbs sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup flaked almonds
lemon
Optional: chopped herbs (parsley or coriander), fresh chilli

Cut cauliflower into 2-inch pieces, cutting across some of the florets to expose inner surfaces (this gives extra surface area to develop brown crispy bits and deep roasted flavours).  Steam for about 5 minutes, or until just tender to a knife but still very firm.  Drain and allow to steam-dry.

Heat oven to 230C.  Toss cauliflower with olive oil, then with spices and almonds.  Spread evenly on baking tray, allowing enough space so that florets roast, rather than steam in their own moisture.  Roast for about 25 minutes or until brown, crisp and beginning to blacken just a little at the very edges.  Zest lemon over and squeeze juice. 

(Some fresh herbs are nice to sprinkle over; fresh chopped red chilli is an amazing addition but can be dangerously hot!)

Note: The above amounts made plenty for 5 people with some left over for lunch the next day.  For the chickpeas, I used two tins and roasted them the same way as the cauliflower, using a smaller amount of the same spices without the almonds, then put them all in a bowl at the end before adding the lemon zest and juice and tossing the whole lot together.  Next time I might use just one tin and not cook them quite so long, as they were a tiny bit dry.

Wednesday, 23 May 2012

Vegan Dinner Party: Part 1 - vegetable tempura

I used to throw Proper Dinner Parties, way back when (I had time, a proper house, decent furniture, etc etc).  They were elaborate, multi-course affairs, beginning with cocktails and elegant nibbles at around 7, progressing through small tasters, plated starter and main course, dessert and petits fours, all accompanied by matching wines, at a relaxed pace and finishing some time after midnight. Nowadays my usual entertaining style is to throw together a huge bunch of random food, pile it all out of the kitchen in a steady stream, let people help themselves and keep the drinks flowing.  But last weekend I decided it was time to return to something a bit more traditional.  I invited a few friends over, keeping the guest list deliberately small (doing a plated main for any more than about 6 people just wouldn't be possible in my current kitchen), and as one guest was vegan and another vegetarian, I planned a(n almost) completely vegan menu.

We began with cocktails made from grapefruit zest muddled with lemon, Campari (1 measure), gin (2 measures), Cointreau (1/2 measure was all I had left), sugar syrup (1 measure) and lemon juice (another splash).  They came out a beautiful pink colour and delightfully zesty, with a palate-tantalising bitterness from the grapefruit and Campari.  Nibbles were wasabi peas and (sadly non-vegan, the only item that was) chipotle-flavoured crisps.  (What's non-vegan about chipotle crisps, you ask?  Whey powder.  Why whey?  I don't know.  Curse you, Walkers.)

To get us properly going, next up was broccoli, asparagus and courgette tempura.  I'm a sucker for anything deep-fried; I also love green vegetables.  Tempura broccoli works particularly well -- there's just something about the way the crisp batter clings to the tender but satisfyingly textured florets, plus the savoury complexity of almost-charred cruciferous vegetable, that makes it the ultimate vegetable for the purpose.  Asparagus and courgette are similarly tender but with different flavours.  Combined with a delicately sweet, gingered soy for dipping, and a glass of Prosecco, it was a simple but delicious starter.


(By the time I thought to take a picture, we'd already eaten most of it...!)

Next course was a rich tomato soup, laced with chilli, lime, black pepper and a dash of gin (no photos but recipe loosely based on The Food Lab's vegan 'creamy' tomato soup, except for, well, the chilli, lime and gin, and with a bit less olive oil).

For main course: roasted spiced cauliflower and chickpea salad on eggplant puree, served with fresh tomato salsa and pita crisps (recipes to follow), accompanied by patatas bravas and a rocket, citrus and beetroot salad (thanks again, Kenji -- I used my standard honey-mustard-lemon vinaigrette rather than the pinenut-sherry-vinegar version, but the grapefruit and beetroot combination was a winner).

[Perhaps Blogger's photo capacity has run out -- my three attempts to upload this picture have resulted, respectively, in a strange red-only version; a half-coloured, half-fuzzy version and a half-only version.  Next time, Gadget...] ETA: aha!



Dessert was chocolate raspberry cake; recipe later perhaps.

For now, here's how I made the tempura:

Batter
2 cups plain flour
2 tsp salt
1 tbs baking powder
1 tsp cayenne pepper
2 cups iced water

Sift all dry ingredients together.  Just before frying, add iced water; stir with chopsticks until just combined (lumps are ok).  [This made too much batter for the below amount of vegetables; I could have done another batch at least with what was left.  Half the amount did about 8 pieces broccoli, 10 pieces courgette and a dozen or so mushrooms.  Go figure...]

Vegetables
I used:
1 small head broccoli, cut into 2-inch florets (about 12 pieces)
12 stalks asparagus
1 small courgette, cut into about 1-1.5cm slices (about 12 pieces)

Dip vegetables in turn and fry in batches: broccoli will take about 4 min, asparagus and courgette 2 min each.  Drain on kitchen towel and then serve with dipping sauce.

Dipping sauce
2 tbs soy sauce
1 tbs mirin
1 tbs pickled ginger juice
1 tbs chinkiang or balsamic vinegar
1/2 tbs sugar syrup

Monday, 21 May 2012

Cocktail cupcakes? Oh yes!

I have recently discovered the show Mad Men (ah, the biting satire on gender roles in 1950s America; thank goodness we live in a more enlightened time and place.  Ahem.) and less recently, the joy of cupcakes.  Imagine my delight, then, when I came across this:

http://thisisrocksalt.com/2012/03/24/mad-men-season-launch-you-need-these-cupcakes/


"A juniper-scented, gin-soaked sponge with a light and tangy lemon icing..."?  Oh yes, I need these cupcakes, I really do.  Luckily, a friend's birthday tea party last weekend provided the ideal opportunity to try them out. 



I couldn't quite bring myself to use most of a whole block of butter in the cakes AND an entire whole block of butter for the frosting (mostly because I only had one block!) so I fudged the quantities somewhat for the cake and made slightly less frosting, supplementing the butter with gin and lemon juice (for extra tang and because let's face it, gin makes EVERYTHING better).  I was also so inspired by the description of the 'gin-soaked sponge' that I decided a drizzle of lemon-gin syrup would be just what was required. 

My cakes weren't as perfectly pretty as the original examples, but they did come out exceptionally well.  This is probably the most tender, even-crumbed and moist cupcake recipe I've tried yet -- will definitely be using it in future!

Tom Collins Cupcakes

125g butter
2/3 cup caster sugar
zest and juice of one lemon
2 eggs
1 1/3 cups plain flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/3 cup gin

Preheat oven to 180C (185 if you are my oven).  Beat softened butter, sugar and lemon zest together until light and fluffy (I used my hand blender with whisk attachment on medium speed); beat in eggs one at a time.  Fold in half of sifted dry ingredients, then gin and lemon juice, then remaining dry ingredients.

Divide mixture between 12 cupcake cases.  Bake for 20 minutes, rotating halfway through cooking time, or until cakes are lightly browned and spring back when pressed (mine took about 22 minutes).

Lemon-gin syrup
2-3 tbs gin
juice of one lemon (reserve zest for decoration)
2 tbs sugar

Mix together until sugar dissolves.  Drizzle about a teaspoon or so of syrup over each cake while still warm.

Frosting
350g(ish) icing sugar
125g butter, softened
zest and juice of one lemon
a splash of gin

Mix all ingredients together until well-combined, adding more liquid or more icing sugar as required until correct consistency (pipe-able or spreadable) is reached.  Ice cakes when cool; sprinkle with reserved lemon zest.

Tuesday, 1 May 2012

Sushi is simple


My first exposure to sushi was in my Year 7 Japanese class, when our teacher (who was not by any stretch of the imagination Japanese -- nor, I suspect, did she actually speak much more Japanese or have a deeper understanding of Japanese culture than we did, but bless her, she was willing to teach us anyway) made and brought some in for us to try.  Having a naturally sweet tooth and being fond of strange sweet-savoury combinations, I thought the squishy, sugary rice wrapped in seaweed with canned tuna in the middle, dipped in salty soy, was really quite tasty.

The next time I remember having sushi was about 6 years later, when I had freshly made temaki and nigiri at a high-class Hong Kong hotel.  It was nothing like Mrs O'Callaghan's sugary tuna creation.  It was also utterly delicious.

The Melbourne public must have (re)discovered sushi around the same time I did, because in the following years, sushi hand-roll chains began to spring up everywhere around Melbourne.  Wrapt was memorable for its after-3pm $1 handroll specials -- and also for its antipasto roll, filled with grilled eggplant, roasted red capsicum and shredded parmesan cheese.  I never would have guessed that parmesan and soy sauce would work so well together, but thinking further, it makes sense that their flavours complement each other: salty, fermented, umami-ful.  Another early contender was Yoyogi, on Swanston St, which I think still survives; nowadays the Sushi Sushi chain has grown and come to dominate much of the market.  And let's not forget Melbourne Uni's wonderful Plush Fish, home of delicious fresh salmon and avocado handrolls as well as the best coffee on campus (until Brunetti's opened a branch at the Potter) and an insanely rich white hot chocolate that would keep you on a sugar high all afternoon.

I first tried making sushi from the recipe in Charmaine Solomon's Complete Asian Cookbook.  We didn't have mirin, so I just used the vinegar, sugar and salt; we did have a rice cooker, so I used that to cook the rice.  We didn't have a rolling mat but I soon acquired one: they make it so much easier!

I've stuck to this method ever since, though my technique has improved considerably: early attempts suffered somewhat from too-hard rice, layered too thick, resulting in overstuffed rolls that would split down the sides.  I learned a tremendous amount from watching the sushi chefs in some of the abovementioned sushi outlets: take a modest amount of rice, no more than a tennis-ball; form a hedge of even thickness the entire width of the nori sheet; fold the hedge down with your fingers to form a uniform rectangle, leaving a little strip at the bottom; add your fillings (not too much!) and roll neatly, with the bare strip at the bottom contacting the far edge of the rice; use the edge of the rolling mat to neaten up the ends of the roll.  Or, more impressive, the method for making nigiri I observed from one chef: left hand grabs slice of fish, laying it flat in left palm; right hand grabs just the right amount of rice; right index finger scoops up dollop of wasabi while other three fingers squeeze rice into a neat block; right hand smears wasabi from index finger onto fish in left hand and then plops rice neatly onto wasabi-smeared fish; left hand deposits completed nigiri into tray.  The entire process took no more than five seconds; rinse and repeat.  I've never got quite that good...




Sushi rice
500g uncooked sushi rice (about 2 cups)
An equal volume water, plus a good splash more

Cook rice in a rice cooker until it pops; check, stir, add a bit more water if needed, leave to steam for another 5-10 minutes.

Dressing
80ml white vinegar
60g white sugar
2.5 tsp salt

Mix all ingredients together and heat in microwave, stir until sugar and salt dissolve.

When rice is cooked, remove from heat, pour over dressing, toss well to combine and leave to cool.  (Traditional methods have you fan the rice while tossing it continuously until cool, which results in a glossier grain; I find the lazy way still works fine though.)

Fillings
You can put whatever you like inside.  Some of my favourites:

  • California roll: surimi (artificial crab meat) finely chopped and mixed with mayonnaise, avocado, cucumber, carrot and red pepper
  • Garden roll: avocado, cucumber, carrot, red pepper, sweetcorn mixed with mayo and pink pickled ginger
  • Teriyaki chicken: sliced cooked chicken breast, hoi sin sauce, cucumber and red pepper
  • Salmon, avocado and cucumber
  • Inari (sweet fried tofu), spinach and avocado/cucumber
(The picture above shows garden rolls, salmon mini-maki and salmon nigiri; the enormous heap of pickled ginger shows how much I love the stuff!)