Fig Jam and Lime Cordial

I haven’t bought cookies for a long time.

Not because I’m particularly fussy, it’s just that bought cookies are boring. I don’t know their backstory. I know what you’re thinking … do cookies really need a backstory?

Let me explain.

These are the quarantine cookies that I made for last Sunday’s neighbour bake. And as I was making them, it occurred to me that every ingredient had its own tale to tell.

The organic unsalted Belgian butter was a gift from our friend Chef Graeme who lives across the road. As an aside, can I just say how happy we are to have someone so knowledgeable close by? He’s incredibly patient too, putting up with my endless texts for advice at strange hours of the day.

The eggs came from our darling neighbour Jane, who is trying to support a free range producer who lost most of his wholesale business as a result of the lockdown. Jane buys 180 eggs every couple of weeks, shares them out with the whole street, and refuses to take any money for it. She’s an absolute rockstar.

The cacao nibs were made by Chocolate Ninja Jess who has just opened a bean to bar chocolate factory at our local shops. Lovely Lorraine at Not Quite Nigella wrote this post about her a couple of months ago and at the time, she said to me “I think you’d be really interested in what Jess is doing”. She was so right! The business is set up as a social enterprise, with every purchase helping to support growers in the South Pacific.

The vanilla extract was homemade, using beans that my incredibly generous friend Dotti gave me last year. The aroma is incredible!

I used the whole wheat Viva La Farina Italian flour that Steve, who is still stuck in Italy, had delivered to me from Lario International. I’ve been baking loaves and also sharing this wonderful flour with friends and neighbours. Its nuttiness really adds to the cookies…

Many of my baking supplies come from Southern Cross Supplies, and I’m keen to keep supporting them at this time, as so much of their wholesale business has dropped off. They’ve now moved to much larger premises in Lidcombe. I bought my cranberries, currants, dried figs and sultanas from them, as well as the Australian dark brown sugar and rolled oats.

The Olsson’s flossy sea salt, harvested in South Australia, also came from Southern Cross, in a giant 25kg bag no less. If you haven’t kept up with our salt adventures, you can read about them here and here.

When lockdown began and there was a run on salt at the supermarkets, I turned to Pete and said…”ha! Who’s the nutter now, then?”

Seriously, if that man’s eyes roll any further back in his head, there’s a chance they won’t come back out…

And finally, the Sao Thome 70% dark origin chocolate callets were bought from the truly gorgeous folks at Chefs’ Warehouse. I’ve been buying from them forever and popping in to their store is like visiting old friends. They’ve relocated to a large deconsecrated church in Redfern, and they too could really use your support now if you’re looking to buy supplies…

. . . . .

See why I find it so hard to buy a cookie these days? Every bite of one of these connects me to folks that I know personally – friends, neighbours, and suppliers that I’ve been buying from for years.

“Know where your food comes from”, we’re constantly being told. I can’t always manage that, but when I can, it’s incredibly rewarding. And this time, I knew where my food was going as well – to feed my fabulous neighbours. I left loaves and cookies on the back deck and they all came to pick up! ♥

I have several friends who will only eat fresh, locally sourced fish. I completely respect their position. But this post is about frozen, imported fish, so if that’s not your thing, then please skip this one, and I’ll catch up again with you tomorrow. x

Last week, Carol called to tell me about a fish wholesaler in nearby Lilyfield who was newly opened to the public.

As I was on my way to get groceries (we’d made it nine days between shopping trips), I told her I’d check it out.

Prestige Fisheries is a wholesaler of frozen imported fish, supplying to cafes and restaurants. When the lockdown happened, 85% of their sales stopped overnight. So brilliant Gina opened all her 6kg boxes and invited retail customers to buy in smaller quantities. On my first visit (I’ve since been again), I came home with two frozen barramundi, each weighing about 700g. The fish were grown in Taiwan and snap frozen immediately after being caught. Each fish only cost me $7 (no, that’s not a typo)…

Like many people, I’m a bit wary of frozen fish. But a few years ago, I realised that a lot of the produce I was paying top dollar for at the fish markets had been frozen and then defrosted for sale. Which is the case with nearly all prawns, both green and cooked, so it’s quite important not to bring them home and re-freeze them without checking their provenance first. Much of what I was buying was actually imported, which only became apparent after changes in regulations required sellers to clearly state where the seafood originated from.

I also realised that the fresh fish I was buying, popping into my freezer and then defrosting, was cooking up perfectly. The trick seems to be to defrost in the fridge overnight – if you try to rush the process by putting a frozen fish in the microwave or hot water, the texture turns to mush.

. . . . .

And the reason I went back for a second visit? Not because the fish was ridiculously cheap, but rather because it was beautifully clean and well-prepped. The intestinal organs and gills had been removed without hacking into the flesh of the fish, and the body had been scaled without destroying the skin. Someone had taken a lot of care over this $7 fish. The flesh was firm and sweet, without tasting muddy like barramundi sometimes does.

We prepared it very simply – the washed and towel-dried fish was slashed, then rubbed with a little oil, salt and pepper. I sat it on a large parchment lined tray, then tucked a handful of garden parsley and some lemon slices into the cavity. A few lemon slices and a bit more oil went on top. It was then surrounded by sliced and peeled potato and sweet potato, which had been tossed in a little oil and salt. The whole tray went into a preheated 200C fan-forced oven for 30 minutes, and that was it!

I dragged out the cute peacock platter that I’d picked up secondhand earlier in the year at the Salvos (isn’t it lovely?) and plated up…

Small Man and I fell on it like hungry wolves. Pete really enjoyed it too, but as he pointed out, he didn’t grow up eating fish, so he doesn’t crave it madly like the rest of us do. It had been weeks since we’d had anything other than tinned tuna and anchovies, and I didn’t realise how much we’d missed it. Actually, that’s not completely true. Our lovely neighbour gave us a piece of Hiramasa kingfish sashimi a couple of weeks ago and I nearly wept with joy.

So if you live in Sydney’s inner west and you’re interested in some good quality fish for your freezer, do pay Gina a visit. Ask her about her produce – she’s very knowledgeable and has flown over to inspect many of her producers firsthand. She will happily talk your ear off! As always, this isn’t an ad, but these lovely folks are based less than ten minutes from home, and I’m keen to support small businesses in our area.

Prestige Fisheries
1 White Street
Lilyfield NSW 2040
(02) 9660 8699