The other night we enjoyed another edition of the Wine Cellar’s dinner club. It’s where all the people who work there and the groupies like myself come together and cook to a theme. (Duh, it’s called a pot luck, Amber.)
Anyway, Bastille Day was a huge hit, so this time we all went out for another country – Mexico! While the others offered amazing salsa, chili and quesadillas, I rustled up a desert of sorts: fried cinnamon tortillas. They are so easy to make, and delicious like Little Orbit donuts – you must try them for yourself.
Cooking oil
Cinnamon
Sugar Tortillas (pre-made is easiest)
Cut up tortillas into small strips, or if you are feeling fancy, get out the cookie cutter. Fry the tortilla strips in oil till golden, then set aside on a paper towel to cool. Mix 1 part cinnamon to 3 parts sugar in a brown paper bag (or a container, but a bag means no mess). Put the now cooled strips into the paper bag and shake-shake-shake until everything is coated evenly. Serve with chocolate sauce, a fruit salsa, or just alone.
Saturday afternoon lunch with my family at the Jade Dragon. The food was good, the people better. My family is hilarious, especially my little sister Courtney. However, it was a little emotional (cue me weeping over Thom’s shumai) because it was the last chance I had to see my grandmother before the big move. I’m going to send her lots of postcards though, so she better watch out.
Perhaps one of the signs of a great party is no photos. If so, this little dinner party I hosted last week, a “soup kitchen”, was one of the best. I have only have two snaps to mark an evening defined by big pots of soup, simmering gently on the stove. Thank you to my beautiful friends for supplying: cheap vino for the mulled wine, bread for dunking and great conversation.
If it’s the middle of winter and you’re out to feed a crowd, there is no better path to follow than the way of the soup. I made a creamy cauliflower and potato, and a vegan ‘French’ onion soup (it turns out golden syrup is a good replacement for the more ‘spensy Maple Syrup).
100g unsalted butter 1 large brown onion, finely diced 2 cloves garlic, finely sliced 1 head cauliflower, cut into florets 4 large potatoes, peeled and diced 1 litre vegetable stock salt & pepper to taste 3-4 tablespoons Dijon or whole grain mustard 100ml cream
Melt the butter in a large saucepan, then add the onion and garlic. Fry until translucent. Add the cauliflower and potatoes. Pour in the stock and milk. Cover, bring to a gentle simmer and cook until the potato is tender. Optional: a few splashes of white wine. When the vegetables are cooked, remove from the liquid, purée with salt to taste and the mustard. Return to the saucepan and bring back to heat, stirring gently. Serve with cheesy toasted bread for best results.
cos·set/ˈkäsit/ verb: Care for and protect in an overindulgent way. Taking refuge from the winter winds that battered the city all weekend, the brunch club ventured out to suburbia out to Cosset, a sweet little café in Auckland’s Mt Albert. And indulge us they did.
It’s a warm and cozy place, filled with vintage furniture, stacks of magazines and lots of plants. The counter was stacked high with homemade bread and baking, and the staff were incredibly friendly. You can’t help but feel like you are taking tea in someone’s stylish living room.
I was delighted to discover that Cosset’s menu is entirely vegetarian, and was so delicious that the rest of the crew forgot about bacon. We ate: beans on toast with ripe avocado, coffee beans smothered in chocolate truffle, garlic mushrooms, and my pick of the day; toasted banana nut bread smeared with butter. We drank: star anise and feijoa sodas (made with Cosset’s own syrups), lavender lattes, and bracing Kokako coffee.
Oh boy, it was a lovely way to spend a lazy Sunday. With bellies full and minds humming from all the caffeine; we headed back to the car feeling, yes, cared for. I think we are all promising to ourselves that we will visit Cosset again soon.
I love good writing about food, and Blood, Bones & Butter: The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef by Gabrielle Hamilton ticks all the boxes. Hamilton is not only the chef/owner of Prune restaurant in New York’s East Village, she also has an MFA in fiction writing from the University of Michigan.
“I wanted a place with a Velvet Underground CD that made you nod your head and feel warm with recognition. I wanted the lettuce and the eggs at room temperature … I wanted the tarnished silverware and chipped wedding china from a paladar in Havana, and the canned sardines I ate in that little apartment on Twenty-Ninth Street. The marrow bones my mother made us eat as kids that I grew to crave as an adult. We would have brown butcher paper on the tables, not linen tablecloths, and when you finished your meal, the server would just pull the pen from behind her ear and scribble the bill directly on the paper like [the waitresses in France] had done. We would use jelly jars for wine glasses. There would be no foam and no ‘conceptual’ or ‘intellectual’ food; just the salty, sweet, starchy, brothy, crispy things that one craves when one is actually hungry.”
A yummy little recipe for iced macchiato pops. Can someone come over and make them for me?
Tono (a “pseudo intellectual folk pop singer for the streets” and regular performer around Auckland) has written an interesting piece on perseverance within an artist’s practice: [a] busload of faith to get by.
“A lot of people think it’s mad to take time to bake,” she says, “but for me it’s a way of showing love for people I care about. This type of cooking is not essential for health, but it might be essential for mental health.”
I love this quote from Alexa Johnston, baking queen. And I think many of my friends agree. Baking for each other on birthdays and for parties is how we show affection for each other – whether that’s with an extraordinary narhwal cake, macarons or simply a big loaf of banana bread. Tomorrow I think I’m going to try and make ginger kisses for a certain someone… despite the fact I’ve never attempted them before, and my ardent dislike of ginger!
I am forever trying to organise my recipes in a handy dandy way. Right now I use a flowery Cath Kidston binder for print outs, or more often than not, drag my lap top into the kitchen. However for something more permanent, these darling Rifle Paper Co. Heirloom Recipe Card Boxes caught my eye:
Aren’t they fantastic?
Here’s one recipe I’ve made recently that I will be transcribing straight away. It’s a delicious lunchtime snack – or a great dinner with a crisp carrot & rocket salad.
Mushroom and poblano vegetarian enchiladas
1 package of firm tofu
1 small pepper
Sliced mushrooms
1 tsp. ground cumin
¼ cup dairy sour cream
1 cup shredded cheddar and another sharp cheese of your choice
8 corn tortillas
Chopped tomato and red onion
Drain tofu; cut in cubes. Stem and seed poblano; cut in strips. In skillet heat 1 Tbsp. oil over medium heat. Add tofu, peppers, mushrooms, cumin, and 1/2 tsp. salt. Cook 8 to 10 minutes or until mushrooms and peppers are tender, turning occasionally. Stir in sour cream and 1/2 cup of the cheese.
Lightly grease a baking pan, set aside. Wrap tortillas in dampened paper towels and microwave for 30 seconds or until warm and softened. Spoon mushroom filling into tortillas; fold over and place in prepared pan. Sprinkle with remaining cheese. Grill in oven for 1 to 2 minutes, until cheese is melted. Top with tomato and red onion.
The bride’s fantastic lace sleeved dress that channeled Grace Kelly.
Looking up Chelsy’s outfit online and declaring her unfit for public consumption.
THAT hat! (Although, I suppose if you are seated behind the queen, you must turn to extreme measures.)
Cute double kiss action.
Waving to the crowd 101. It’s from the wrist, not the elbow.
We had so much fun. In the end there was about 20 of us in my lounge, huddled around a small TV. Looks like I’ll have to stay home tonight, I am exhausted from all the festivities!
New Zealand, while part of the Commonwealth, is tucked down the bottom of the world, and the monarchy doesn’t have much sway on our everyday lives, save supplying the trash mags with fodder. Despite that, I’ve always had a soft spot for those bumbling royals. And now one of them (we can’t be sure which though) is getting married. Viz:
Teehee. Collectible!
THE ROYAL WEDDING TV SPECIAL
I had already decided I was going to watch 2011′s biggest television spectacle, so when Kate mentioned she had invites to not one, but two Royal Wedding parties, I got a little bit green-eyed. Why not host my own? Thus the ‘Royal Wedding TV Special’ was born. Here’s what I think are the most important elements of any decent wedding gathering:
A large teapot. I’ll be dusting off my Big Ben teapot. Well now, I knew there was some reason I purchased this way back in 2009. At the time I was nomadic, and didn’t have any reason whatsoever to justify this purchase. Now I am smug. Cup o’ tannin, anyone?
Tea sandwiches. Crustless and dainty, the best sandwiches combine a soft filling (cream cheese) with a flavoursome kick (scallions, salmon, cucumber, chilli, ginger). Think savoury, not sweet!
Novelty teaspoons. I am just a tiny bit excited to get my best British teaspoons out. Once upon a time I thought I was going to have them made into a charm bracelet (this may yet happen), but for now they are in our cutlery drawer.
Decorations. Fly the flag! I particularly like the “aged” style of this Union Jack Bunting.
Hats. Just like race day, everyone must be wearing something on their crumpet. Enforce this dress code strictly.
Gin. The party won’t be complete without lashings of gin! Serve in fine china and ensure there’s plenty of tonic. My gin of choice is Hendricks, yum. Just make sure you’ve got tissues on hand, as some people seem to get weepy whenever there’s gin in the house. Seriously. My darling friend Mon can’t even nibble on a piece of gin soaked cucumber without the tears welling up (we all still love her though).
A lucky dip. Not mandatory but I think it’ll be fun. One lucky plucker will fish out a Faux Sapphire Royal Engagment Ring, while the rest of the mob might just get some Grandmother’s Teeth. Speaking of faux royal engagement rings, my mum actually bought a replica one way back in 1981. Her bling is the real deal though – gold, sapphire and diamonds. I’m definitely borrowing it for the TV Special!
Of course, any good monarchy needs dissidents. Not into the Royal Wedding? Hanging out in your own personal republic that day? Well how about one of Lydia Leith’s hilarious screen printed sick bags?
I am in awe of how offended those old ladies are, but personally, I think humour helps. As does gin, so bring on April 29!
The last few days have been a lot chillier here in Auckland. Time has snapped back one hour and the autumn rains have started. Despite rugging up in my deliciously warm shearling jacket and winter boots, I have still managed to catch the sniffles. One of the things that has been helping me feel better, alongside cuddles on the couch and watching lots of Antiques Roadshow, is bowls of apple crumble. It’s the ultimate comfort food – working well at breakfast, lunch, and dinner time.
The recipe is from my friend Leon. He says that personally he always doubles the crumb mixture, but I have made it both ways and it is fine. It really depends what ingredients you have on hand – it truly is a ‘throw-it-together’ recipe it). And on that note, it works a treat with berries or peaches thrown in with the apples.
For the apples:
6-8 apples (of any variety)
2 Tbsp. brown sugar
¼ cup of water
For the crumble:
1 cup caster sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
½ cup of melted butter
1 tsp. cinnamon
½ tsp ginger – optional
Preheat the oven to 180C/350F. Peel and core the apples, chopping the flesh into large chunks. Then boil with brown sugar and a little water until you reach the desired consistency – softened but still solid.
In another bowl, coarsely mix the melted butter together with flour, caster sugar and cinnamon to make crumble.
Put the apples in an oven proof dish, and then spoon the crumble evenly on top. Cook the crumble at 180C for about 40 minutes, until the top is golden brown. Serve warm, or at room temperature, with a helping of ice-cream or thick yoghurt if you please.
On Saturday night my flatmates amd I hosted a wee soirée at our new house (I have moved again – house number 5 or so since I started Code For Something). My contribution was this elegant and easy drinking vodka orange punch. The addition of tea makes it rather refreshing, and not overly sweet. I used edible flowers to make the punch pretty – nasturtiums this time because I found them for sale at the city farmer’s market on Saturday morning, however marigolds or orange blossom work well too.
Orange Saturday Punch
1 part Vodka
1 part Ginger Beer
1 part Tea
1 part Orange Juice
A dash of Cointreau to taste
Mix high quality vodka , ginger beer and orange juice (non pulpy) in a punch bowl. For the tea – make a pot of your favourite black tea, and leave it to cool before adding to the mix. If you’re in a hurry, ice can be added to the tea to cool it. To make it pretty, add slices of orange to the mix, or if you have them in the garden, edible flowers. Serve chilled.
{Thank you to Rhiannon for the recipe – it’s a winner!}
Other people are FASCINATING. The Makers is a photography project by Jennifer Causey that documents the lives of makers. In particular I like the shots of kitchens, and food being made. I love seeing process and tools as much as the final product. (As an aside, did I tell you this year I’ve vowed only to give tools, ingredients and experiences as gifts?)
The Jewels of New York are food stylists. Look how they have repurposed a Bulliet Burboun bottle. Simple but pretty.
Morris Kitchen are a brother-sister run company who supply ginger syrup to mixologists. Yum. Wish I could try one of their conncoctions.
Gorgeous. Be sure to check out the rest of the photographs and the other Makers.
Look what I made with my own two hands: one hearty little round loaf! Well, to be honest, part of that statement is not true. My hand’s weren’t really involved in the process at all. You see friends, this is a no knead bread, with a recipe so easy to follow that a four year old can make it.
The original recipe was shared by the New York Times in 2006, and again, I stress that it’s easy-peasy. There’s no photographs of the rising stage, as it was a gloopy, shaggy mess that looked like a paper making project gone bad. Best served warm from the oven with a lump of real butter!
Making bread satisfies my desire to slow down right down and pay attention to the art of living (as outlined in this previous Code For Something post). It seems like the older I get the more time speeds up… So I prescribed some time to nurture my herb garden, make food from scratch and write more by hand. So far so good.
Hello! My name is Amber Parkin. I'm a New Zealander living in London. I'm a writer obsessed with fondue, chesterfield sofas, vintage dresses, foxes, and 35mm.
It’s a warm and cozy place, filled with vintage furniture, stacks of magazines and lots of plants. The counter was stacked high with homemade bread and baking, and the staff were incredibly friendly. You can’t help but feel like you are taking tea in someone’s stylish living room.
by Gabrielle Hamilton ticks all the boxes. Hamilton is not only the chef/owner of Prune restaurant in New York’s East Village, she also has an MFA in fiction writing from the University of Michigan.
