Dancing with the Aga at Duncan's

One weekend a month my sister and her family head off to Wiltshire where they stay in a cottage owned by their friend Duncan. Over the last couple of years the weekend at Duncan’s has become an indispensable ritual in my sister’s life – pack up and head off from London on Friday night after work, arrive late and collapse into bed, wake up Saturday morning to a view of rolling hills and fields with sheep and beautiful dopey cows. The village itself is a small windy street of thatched cottages with a church and a bus stop. No shops, not even a pub (whoever heard of an English town without a pub?). But best of all no broadband or mobile phone coverage. Ah the serenity.


There is very little to do at Duncan’s other than read and, of course, cook. Before I’d been to the cottage my sister had told me about the amazing oven – a Swedish designed cast iron Aga. I’d never heard much about Agas but after a few months living in England have discovered that they are quite the thing to have. Definitely a cold climate accoutrement as the Aga is always on which means it does make it toasty in the kitchen.

The beauty of the Aga is supposedly in the flavour of the food as it uses a less drying, gentler form of heat to cook. The tricky part is you can’t really set the oven temperature. You ‘find the heat’ according to the smug instruction book and learn where to position the food in the different parts of the Aga to get the desired result. For example, you start a roast chicken on the top shelf of the top oven to get a crispy skin then transfer to the bottom oven for a slower cooking heat; boil water in the centre of the left hand hotplate; gently simmer on the edge of the right hand hotplate etc etc.

It feels a bit like learning to dance with a partner. You can’t just close your eyes and boogie like you’re the only person on the disco floor. You have to dance in step and sometimes even let your partner take the lead.

The Aga and I danced the weekend away and together we found the heat.

Saturday lunch - a little two step

Carrot, thyme and orange soup with rosemary and onion bread


Ingredients

2 tbls olive oil
1kg carrots peeled and chopped into pieces
1 onion
clove garlic
about 1 litre stock
thyme
juice of ½ orange



Heat olive oil in large saucepan and sweat onions and garlic gently for about 15 minutes. Add carrots, thyme, then the stock and turn up heat to bring to the boil.


Simmer until carrots are tender. Remove from heat. Blend soup and then add orange juice and reheat. Season with salt and pepper and serve with bread.

Rosemary and onion bread
(makes 1kg loaf)

Topping
1 onion finely chopped
1 clove garlic crushed
2 teaspoons chopped rosemary
Heat oil in fry pan and slowly fry onions until translucent and sweet- about 10-15 minutes. Add garlic and fry another 2-3 minutes.
Mix in the rosemary and leave to cool.

Dough
500g wholemeal plain flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 sachets fast action dried yeast
310 ml warm water
1 tablespoon olive oil

Mix flour, salt and yeast together in large bowl. Stir in the warm water and olive oil. Work to a dough and knead well (about 10 minutes until it becomes springy and bounces back when you poke it with your finger). Roll out the dough into a short, thick oblong shape. Make holes along the top with your finger and spoon over the onion mixture. Roll dough around the filling and knead briefly.

Shape into a loaf and place into well greased loaf tin. Cover and leave to prove in a warm place for approximately 40 minutes until doubled in size.



Preheat oven to 220 degrees. Glaze loaf with a beaten egg. Bake in preheated oven for 25-30 minutes until well risen and golden. It should sound hollow when you tap it with your finger. Allow to stand in the tin for 10 minutes then transfer to wire rack to cool.

Saturday dinner - the tango

Boef en daube followed by apple and blackberry crumble


Recipe from the Divertimenti cookbook by Camilla Schneideman (serves 6)

1.5 kg chuck steak or shin of beef cut into large cubes
350g streaky bacon
5 cloves garlic bashed with flat of knife
1 can plum tomatoes, with juice and seeds from tomatoes discarded
6 strips of orange zest
1 ½ glass of red wine
2 teaspoons herbs de Provence or if using fresh herbs, 6 sprigs of thyme, 2 sprigs rosemary, 6 sprigs parsley and 1 teaspoon fennel seeds

Preheat oven to 180 degrees. Cut bacon into thin strips and fry gently in a heavy pan until fat is translucent and begins to brown. While bacon is cooking, mix together the meat, garlic, tomatoes and orange zest in an oven proof casserole. Add the bacon and salt and pepper. In the pan used to cook the bacon, heat the red wine, deglazing the pan with a wooden spoon to release any sediment. When bubbling, pour over meat in pot.

Put on the lid and transfer to the oven. Once simmering (about 15 minutes) turn the oven down to 140 degress and cook gently for further 2+1/2-hours until meat is tender.

The stew has a thin sauce like French casseroles rather than the thick Italian type ragouts. I served it with mash and string beans dressed with lemon, oil and salt and pepper.

Apple and blackberry crumble (serves 6)


2 cups black berries
6 apples peeled, cored and sliced
2 tbls castor sugar
pinch ground cinnamon
2 cups plain flour
110g cold unsalted butter
½ cup light brown sugar
pinch salt

Preheat oven to 190 degrees
Put apples in pan with sugar and sprinkling of water. Gently cook until apples start to soften. Stir in black berries and cinnamon. Place in 25 x 20cm baking dish.
Mix dry ingredients together. Cut butter into small pieces and rub it through the dry ingredients with fingertips until it resembles dry bread crumbs. Sprinkle mixture over the fruit and bake for 40 minutes till top is golden.

Sunday brunch - lets rumba

Egg and baked bean tart


A little while ago I made egg and baked bean pie's for one. Here is the group version for 6. This time I thought I'd try a different baked bean recipe and I reckon this one's the winner. I had to cheat a little and use tinned haricot beans as I couldn't find any dry beans as I sprinted around the Tesco store in Salisbury on Friday night before jumping on the last bus to Duncan's.

Baked beans

3 tins haricot beans
4 slices maple smoked bacon
1 onion finely chopped
400g canned tomatoes mashed
1 tbls brown sugar
2 tbls wostershire sauce
1 bay leaf
1 star anise
1 teasp sea salt
½ tsp black pepper
1 extra tbls brown sugar
2 tbls chopped fresh mint

Cut rind from bacon and cut into cubes. Cook bacon and chopped onion in base of lidded ovenproof casserole until bacon is slightly crisp and onion soft. Add tomatoes, brown sugar, maple syrup, wostershire, bay leaf, star anise, salt and pepper and mix well.

Add the beans which have been drained and rinsed, together with 2 cups cold water. Stir and cover tightly. Bake for 2 hours adding a little water if dry. Sprinkle with extra brown sugar and bake uncovered for another 20 minutes until glazed on top. Remove from oven an stir through the fresh mint.


I cooked the beans on Saturday afternoon and then assembled the tart Sunday morning. You need a 28cm pastry case. Follow the same recipe as for the individual pies or use frozen pastry. Heat the beans and spoon into the pastry case which has been blind baked. Make six holes in the beans with a spoon and then gently crack the egg into the hole. Cook in a hot oven for 20 minutes or until the eggs are just set.

Veg box orders and disorders

I’ve inherited from my mum and dad an almost self-destructive hatred of food wastage. ‘Use by’ dates were scoffed at in our house and if fuzzy mould appeared on tomato paste, jams or cheese it was never a reason to throw it out. It could always be remedied by a quick scraping with a metal spoon and a declaration of ‘its perfectly fine’. As a result my favourite way of cooking is to create a meal out of the ingredients that I have in the fridge and pantry, especially if it means using up something before it goes limp or mouldy.

This process has become infinitely more interesting and challenging since I’ve been staying with my sister as she has an organic fruit and veg box delivered each week. Its potluck what comes as they provide you with whatever is in season. Sadly, Wednesdays have become the highlight of my week when Chris delivers the box and I see what mystery ingredients I have to work with. Will I be able to rise to the challenge and use all the contents of the veg box before next week's delivery? I have to admit that the kohlrabi and turnip season was a particularly lucrative period for the compost bin.

Anxiety associated with optimum utilisation of organic Veg Boxes is fast becoming a new yuppie syndrome – if you need a support group or suggestions on what to do with challenging vegetables visit the Veg Box Diaries.

For the last few weeks there has been a continuous and slightly monotonous supply of zucchinis (courgettes to the Brits). After barbecuing, steaming, and ratatouilling them I decided it was time to gratinate the little mo fos.

This recipe is inspired by a 70’s-esque dish my mother used to make. Mum’s used grated potato rather than zucchini and was usually made on a night they were going out because it is quick and she could make it ahead of time.

Zucchini Gratin

Ingredients



1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium onion finely diced
70g cubed pancetta
500g or 4 medium sized zucchini, grated
1 tsp fresh rosemary
2 tablespoons fresh mint
¾ cup mature cheddar cheese
1 cup self raising flour
4 eggs
1 cup buttermilk
sea salt and freshly ground pepper
handful of sliced mushrooms or sliced tomato for the top.

Preheat oven to 200C. Line a slice tin with non-stick baking paper so that it overhangs on all sides. Heat oil in frying pan and cook pancetta until lightly brown, then add onion until softened but not coloured. Remove from heat, stir in rosemary and cool.

Squeeze any excess liquid from grated zucchini and add to cooled onion mixture with grated cheese and flour.

In a bowl lightly beat eggs with buttermilk and season with salt and pepper. Stir in chopped mint. Add wet ingredients to dry and mix until just combined. Pour into the tin and arrange mushroom or tomato slices on top. Bake for 40 minutes or until firm in the centre. Allow it to cool and firm little before turning out to slice it.

Serve with a salad and of course…. chutney.

Off your bike

Wanting to take advantage of a rare Sunday off (I’m managing a café on weekends but that’s a story for another day) and an even rarer beautiful sunny day, I decided to cycle to the Sunday markets in Spitalfield. The day did not start well after an altercation in Hyde Park. A man took issue with me cycling in a no cycling section of the park (around 99% of the park) and actually grabbed me and tried to pull me off my bike. The fact that he could grab me shows how slowly and carefully I was riding your Honour. Despite Ken Livingstone's proclamations I haven't found London to be overly bike friendly. The unpleasant exchange ended with him yelling “Piss off back to your own country” and me replying “So you’re uptight, a knob AND a racist”. To which he surprisingly agreed.

By the time I reached the markets I was in desperate need of a coffee and in no mood for a frappuccino. I circled the markets and its surrounds before homing in on Market Coffee House on Brushfield St.


It had all the markings of a good coffee experience: next to a foodie mecca A. Gold, coffee served in small cups rather than mugs, lots of customers and friendly ones too who were happy to share tables, and some antipodean accents behind the counter. Maybe I’m racist when it comes to who I trust to make my coffee.

After a false start (in my still shaken state I ordered a white coffee and was handed a long black with cold milk) my persistence paid off and I was rewarded with a lovely latte.

All was well with the world again.

A country showing

Many a happy memory is held of our annual family outing to the Queensland Royal Agricultural Show - or the Ekka as everyone calls it in my hometown, Brisbane. Eating strawberry icecream, watching the dog shows and the wood chopping competition, catching the chairlift from one end of the showground to the other, spending hours choosing the two show bags we were allowed, and huddling together on the stands in the main ring at night time to watch the fireworks with the crowd chanting ‘red’ 'blue’ ‘green’ as we tried to guess the next colour that would explode in the sky.

Imagine my delight when I discovered that my visit to a friend’s place in Wiltshire coincided with the Gillingham and Shafttesbury Agricultural Show. There were jousting knights, ferret races, large farm machinery and fashion for sale and best of all, a food tent showcasing the region’s finest produce. I will never look at a sausage the same way after sampling more than is healthy in one day- researching suppliers for the café.

Competition standard may not have been world class. Some dubious entries in the craft and home baking categories attracted harsh comments from the public viewing the entries on display...



but there was nothing shameful about the size of their vegetables.




These magnificent buddha-esque onions inspired me to bake a tart – practising for my entry next year in the vegetable tart category.

Goat cheese and caramelised onion tart

40g butter
4 large onions (relatively speaking- they don’t have to be the size of those pictured)
salt pepper
freshly grated nutmeg
120g goats cheese log
2 eggs
250 ml crème fraiche
24cm shortcrust pastry case baked blind (10mins with baking paper on, 10 minutes without)
2 sprigs lemon thyme

Preheat oven to 180 degrees.

Melt butter in large pan. Add onions and a good pinch of salt and cook stirring over medium to high heat until softened (about 5-10 minutes). Turn heat down to low, cover with a lid and leave to soften for about 30 minutes, stirring often. Remove lid and continue to cook until liquid is evaporated and the onions are a golden colour and have a jam like consistency (about another 30 minutes but depends on how much liquid you have to start with). Add salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste. Remove from heat and leave to cool.

Cut the goats cheese into slices about 5mm thick and then into halfmoons. Beat eggs with the crème fraiche until smoothly combined. Stir in the cooled onions and add salt and pepper to taste. Pour mixture into pastry case and arrange goats cheese slices over the top. Scatter over the thyme leaves and some ground pepper. Place tart in the oven and bake until golden and just set (about 25 minutes). Let stand for half an hour before serving.

A different Bill

I don't mind admitting that it was with feelings of trepidation and preemptive envy that I made the trip to Brighton to visit Bill's Produce Store (no connection to the three Bill's cafes in Sydney set up by Bill Grainger). A gaping hole in the UK market is casual cafe dining for foodies - something that Australia has in abundance. From what I'd heard, Bill's in Brighton had a very Australian feel and did great breakfasts, salads and fresh juices. What if they were doing exactly what I'd envisaged for my cafe but better than I ever could?

After getting hopelessly lost (it's 100 North Rd Brighton, not North Street or Brighton Rd) we arrived at 1pm and were seated at the last free table. Literally ten minutes later there was a queue - not bad for a weekday considering Bill's is by no means small (looks like it seats over 60). Its a food store/cafe housed in what feels like a shed with high ceilings, crates of fresh fruit and vegetables in the front, a cafe in the back half and shelves of upmarket pantry items like chutneys, vinegars and oil lining the walls throughout. I don't know how many people actually buy any of this stuff; no-one while we were there. But despite the slightly staged look, it all lends itself to the farm-shop, rustic atmosphere they are trying to create.



They have managed to fit a lot of different offerings in a relatively small space with takeaway sandwiches, salads and cakes, a juice bar, the fresh produce and goods section and the eat in cafe which is clearly what most people come for. The menu marks it as more cafe than restaurant and is weighted towards breakfast which includes all the usual suspects - scrambled eggs, eggs benedict, pancakes, grilled mushrooms, etc. For lunch there are a selection of pizzas (thick based like a focacia and heavily loaded with ingredients) and quiches (English cafes are very fond of quiches) all on display, as well as a couple of daily specials written up on blackboards.

I had the steak sandwich (9 quid) which came as a gristly, though generously sized, piece of steak sandwiched in home made focaccia bread with horseradish mayonnaise and roast vegetables including roast parsnip, zuchini and sweet potato. I'm all in favour of mixing flavours and textures but I also think that if you use really fresh quality ingredients (which given the props and setting you assume they do) its better to keep it simple. I think the roast vegetables were a mistake.

Nothing is minimalist or understated at Bill's - portions are huge, flavours are mixed together with gay abandon, and the presentation is a little overwhelming. I gave up on desert because I couldn't see what any of the cakes looked like underneath the decorative flora and fauna.


And yes, the coffee is served in cups for giants with calcium deficencies.

In contrast to all the chaos and clutter going on in ingredients, presentation and people, the waiters are amazingly calm and efficient. We had excellent attentive service, although I did take issue with the man serving at the fruit and veg counter when he mocked my Aussie accent. Ah a cunning linguist: "You don't hear me making fun of your accent do you?" "Well go on then". So I gave him a rendition of my cockney accent, something I felt I'd honed from working at a jacket potato shop in Holborn 13 years ago: "I'll have a jacket wif beans and cheese and don't be shy wif the beans". Not bad he conceded "but you still sound like an Aussie". I didn't think he'd appreciate a history lesson explaining Australia's convict beginnings so I let it go.

All in all, nothing amazing about Bill's considering the hype - they are still way superior to most cafes I've been to in the UK and are obviously doing something right to be so popular. Maybe I was just unlucky but I was peversely happy to be a bit disappointed.

Coffee trials

Armed with an A-Z and a list of places gathered from reliable sources, I am embarking on a pilgrimage in search of good cafes and, more importantly, decent coffee. Unfortunately due to lifestyle choices (i.e sleep) I'm now a one coffee a day drinker - hence the importance that I place on that coffee- so it will be a slow journey.

Whenever I complained about the coffee in London people would ask "have you been to Bar Italia in Soho"? What better place to begin this pilgrimage than at the godfather of coffee houses.


A classic Italian espresso bar, if I wasn't sitting across the road from Ronnie Scott's I could swear I was in Pellegrini's in Bourke St Melbourne. Same floor bolted vinyl bar stools lining a long mirrored wall (not a bad hair day or large group venue), same nonchalant 'I could think of better things to do than wait on you' waiting staff and same mix of city workers, Italian men and groovy young things drawn in by the retro kitsch...


and the coffee: lovely strong Italian style coffee served in a normal sized cup with nice thickly textured milk; but relatively expensive at 2.50 (ludicrously expensive if you convert to Australian dollars but what's the point).


I just had the coffee but I did see some impressive paninis walking by including a prelude to a heart attack: a chicken schnitzel ciabatta sandwich.

The L word

Location location location keeps ringing in my ears. Every person I've spoken to in the restaurant industry tells me it will make or break your business. It's hard enough trying to find a good location when you know a city but having not lived in London for 12 years first thing I've had to is decide what area we want the cafe to be in. The selection criteria: inner city suburban area populated by high income professionals, ‘yummy mummys’, mobile/home based workers and preferably lots of affluent Australians/antipodeans who are desperately missing Australian style cafes. As for the site itself we want somewhere that gets morning sun, preferably a corner site, in a high visibility location like a retail strip, near or on the way to a train station and in an area where there are some competitors but not saturated with other cafes. Not too much to ask? Well it wouldn't be if the freaking Starbucks and Cafe Neros didn't take every site that meets that criteria. So we may have to compromise on a few things...

Another expression that rings in my ears: if it looks too good to be true, it probably is.

I thought I'd found the perfect site on Fulham Rd. Not on a corner but it seemed to have everything else going for it in terms of location and was surprisingly cheap. Maybe I got a little blinded by the good location and price and didn't see the faults of the property itself. Or maybe I've watched too many shows like Renovation Rescue and have completely unrealistic expectations of what you can do as a low cost makeover. After getting an architect to run his critical eye over it I saw it in a different light- low ceilings, no windows or ventilation, only one entry point and a horrible musty damp smell that suggested bigger plumbing issues.



I also learned that you can't just get a mallet and knock out walls like they do on those home improvement shows when that wall is holding up a block of apartments.

So the search continues but at least I'm not the novice I was before. Now I know that windows and ventilation are important and that when the agent is strongly suggesting you get a building inspection before making an offer, they might be trying to tell you something.