Feeds:
Posts
Comments

It’s a busy time of year!

A couple of weeks ago, we had our summer dinner with Kevin, Carol, Gill and Therese. We get together four times a year, at the beginning of each season. These meals are predominantly vegetarian, and we challenge ourselves to cook something different each time.

Our final dinner for the year was based around Korean flavours. After much googling, Pete decided that the main dish would be a vegetarian Japchae – sweet potato noodles topped with assorted mushrooms, garden greens, carrots, eggs and spring onions. This was accompanied by a variety of side dishes, including purslane salad, deep fried sweet potato and steamed eggplant.

For starters, we made these easy edamame canapés (recipe is here)…

The edamame were topped with a Korean sweet chilli sauce known as Ssamjang. It’s delicious, and very easy to make, providing you can get your hands on the right ingredients…

You’ll need to track down a tub each of Korean chilli paste and soy bean paste. I’ve taken photos to make identifying them a bit easier…

Be warned, you’re looking for the chilli paste (Gochujang) labelled Medium Hot. There are also Very Hot and Extremely Hot varieties, but approach those at your own peril – they can be tongue blisteringly spicy. Turn the tub over and read the tiny English labeling – I noticed the other day that the tub labeled “Classic” had “Extremely Hot” written on the back in English…

You’ll need twice as much chilli paste (Gochujang) as soy bean paste (Doenjang)…

  • 70g Korean chilli paste (Gochujang)
  • 35g Korean soy bean paste (Doenjang)
  • 15g sesame oil (I used the Korean variety)
  • 10g light olive oil
  • 25g toasted sesame seeds (you can buy vaccum-sealed packets of these from Korean supermarkets)
  • 50g caster sugar
  • 1 clove garlic, crushed

Combine all the ingredients together in a large bowl and whisk until the sugar has dissolved. Store in the refrigerator until needed.

My friend Young Jae tells me that Ssamjang is basically Korean tomato sauce, and an essential staple in all Korean kitchens. It’s sweet and spicy, with an added umami kick from the soy bean paste. I’ve quadrupled the recipe to make a few jars as Christmas presents for the neighbours!

PS. The white specks in the jars below are sesame seeds, not chilli seeds. The Ssamjung really isn’t overly spicy when made with the Medium Hot Gochujang.

Christmas bling is well and truly happening at our house!

I thought you might enjoy making these crystal decorations. Their gorgeousness belies their simplicity, and they make a stunning homemade gift.

For each decoration, you’ll need:

  • 1 large 12-14mm large clear crystal*
  • 1 large 8-10mm medium clear crystal*
  • 2 small 6mm small crystals in either red or green
  • 4 small flat spacer crystals
  • 2 x 2″ silver plate headpins
  • hanging ribbon or hook
  • round-nosed pliers
  • flat-nosed pliers
  • wire cutter

Note: the 10mm – 14mm crystals can sometimes be tricky to track down. Please substitute freely depending on what you can source. I used vintage Swarovski from my personal stash.

Step 1: Onto one head pin, slide a spacer, followed by the largest crystal, then another spacer. Bend the top of the head pin into a loop following our earlier instructions here (follow the directions for the green earrings in the second half of the post)…

Step 2: Using the cutters, carefully trim away the head of the second pin. Turn one end of the wire into a loop. Thread on in this order: coloured crystal – spacer – medium crystal – spacer – coloured crystal. Carefully turn a loop at the other end.

Step 3: Open the loop on the large crystal by twisting it slightly to the side. Never open a loop by uncurling it, as that weakens the wire…

Step 4: Add the second piece, then close up the open loop by twisting back gently…

Step 5: Add a hanging ribbon or hook…

Finished! I like to give these away in small organza bags, but they also make a nice addition to the wrapping of a larger gift. I’m currently working on a way to hang these from our dining room light fitting – I’ll let you know how I go!

In My Kitchen is moving!

I wrote my first In My Kitchen post in February 2010, and started the IMK gathering the following year. Over the past five years, it has been a great joy to spend time in your kitchens. Together we’ve built an amazing blogging community, and many of these online connections have developed into deep and lasting friendships.

Unfortunately, I’m no longer in a position to give this fabulous get-together the attention it deserves. So I was both delighted and relieved that fellow IMK blogger Maureen, who also happens to be one of the most beautiful people on the planet, was happy to take over the hosting role. Under her care, I’m confident that In My Kitchen will continue to expand and bring together like-minded bloggers from around the world.

This December’s IMK will be the final one hosted here at Fig Jam and Lime Cordial. As of January 2016, it will be hosted by Maureen at The Orgasmic Chef. Thank you for all your wonderful support over the past five years, and I hope you’ll continue to give the same to Maureen in the future. I look forward to dropping into your kitchens for a virtual cup of tea soon!

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

A note of warning to my vegetarian and vegan friends:
there’s a roasted pig’s head below. x

In my kitchen…

…are flowers from my neighbour Mark’s garden, arranged in a brass Turkish teapot…

. . . . .

In my kitchen…

…is a set of four Royal Doulton Fable plates, a gift from my nephew Bryan’s new girlfriend. I can’t tell you how touched I was by this gesture – Lilian had only been for dinner once before, but she’d noticed our tile trivets and gone out of her way to select plates that would match with them (I think she’s a keeper, B!)…

. . . . .

In my kitchen…

…there is always chocolate. I tempered a blend of milk and dark Callebaut to create chess pieces for a friend’s birthday…

. . . . .

In my kitchen…

…are loads of beans! We’ve planted a new variety this year – Italian flat beans – and they’ve been prolific. We’re picking about 250g (9oz) each day…

. . . . .

In my kitchen…

…is a little box of magic!

A gift from my mum, it holds a block of super-compressed black cloud-ear fungus (we call it bok ni). After soaking in a (very) large bowl of warm water…

…the block unfolded into a mountain of tender, perfect bok ni. Mum recommends simmering for five minutes before use. It’s great in stir fries and noodle dishes…

These little packets come in boxes of ten ($10, so just $1 each). They’re widely available at Chinese grocers. I’ll be keeping the photo below on my phone to show shopkeepers when I’m buying these – it’s easier than trying to describe them…

. . . . .

In my kitchen…

…is a brand new dehydrator, a gift from the beautiful Maureen

. . . . .

In my kitchen…

…are new season’s cherries, brought from Young by Aunt Liz and Uncle Peter. They’re Small Man’s favourites, so Pete’s wonderful aunt buys him a box every year…

. . . . .

In my kitchen…

…was an entire roasted pig’s head. I was at the K.W. Barbecue shop in Flemington on Friday and spied it in the window…

Apparently they only have one per day, each Friday and Saturday. It cost me just $10 and produced a ridiculous amount of meat and crackling – enough to feed all of us, my mum, and a few of the neighbours…

After picking it clean, I used the bones to make seven boxes of stock the following day…

. . . . .

In my garden…

…grows green amaranth. We’ve tried frying it in the past and found it incredibly bitter, so we’ve always fed it to the chooks…

Then we discovered that if we boil it in quite salty water, the bitterness disappears and we’re left with an incredibly tasty and easy to prepare side dish. After draining, we simply pour over a little roasted garlic oil…

. . . . .

In my kitchen…

…are weekend sourdough loaves and four jars of freshly made bread and butter pickles…

. . . . .

Finally, in my kitchen…

…are twenty packets of Priscilla sourdough starter to give away for Christmas! I gave some away last year, and we all had enormous fun baking together. This year I’m only able to send the starter within Australia, and it’s only available to folks who have commented on our blog previously. If you’d like a packet, please let me know…

And some exciting news, some of my fellow Priscilla bakers will also be sharing their starters this month! Check out their December IMK posts (I’ll update the list once I have more information)…

. . . . .

Tell me, what’s happening in your kitchen this month?

If you’d like to do an In My Kitchen post on your own blog, please feel free  to do so. We’d love to see what’s happening in your kitchen this month!  Please link back to this blog, and let us know when your post is up, and we’ll add it to our monthly listing. Please upload your post by the 10th of each month.

I’m sitting at my dining room table making Christmas decorations from vintage crystals.

And I’m thinking about Selma.

My beautiful friend passed away on the 4th July this year. Ten days later, my dad was in hospital. I’ve been so emotionally raw from losing Dad that I haven’t had a chance to write about Selma until now.

Last December, I packed some of my Swarovski earrings and Christmas decorations into a little box and sent them to Selma in London. Her handle on Twitter and Instagram was Diva Sparkle and oh, how she loved shiny things.

She was a true kindred spirit. We would message each other regularly, chatting about life and family and our views on the world. Very early on in our friendship, she told me about her cancer. I knew it wasn’t a good prognosis – she’d been in remission for over a year when it had returned in an aggressive, secondary form. By the time we met, she’d already lost a small section of her spine to bone cancer.

But Selma didn’t want sympathy. I understood that completely. Sympathy, so often well intentioned, allows our difficulties to define us. Selma refused to let that happen. She was resolutely upbeat, enjoying every moment she had with her beloved son Jake and her very dear friends.

At the end of last year, I sent her some of my Priscilla sourdough starter. We had the most glorious fun that January. We exchanged bread photos, scrutinized bubbling bowls of starter, and raved like excited mad women as Selma turned out the most incredible loaves. She took to sourdough baking like a duck to water – I’d never met anyone who mastered it so completely from the very first loaf. But then again, Selma was seriously smart. She was always finding a clever way to tweak a recipe, or turning a technique on its head to produce a better result.

We would chat about our wonderful sons, help each other choose outfits for special occasions, compare the weather in our different parts of the world, and discuss how we lived our lives. And occasionally we’d share our troubles, because that’s what a complete friendship entails, but it was rarely negative or dismal. Our conversations always centered on how fortunate we were, and how much we had to be grateful for.

When times were really hard, we would just hold each other’s virtual hand. A week before she died, I messaged Selma. I knew she’d been in hospital a couple of weeks prior, but I hadn’t heard from her since she’d been home.

Darling, she said, I’m really terrible. I’ve never felt so sick in my entire life. We agreed that she needed to call an ambulance. She’d barely kept any food down for a week.

Selma, I’m scared, I finally confessed.

It’s ok darling, she said, please don’t worry, just think positive thoughts. I’ve just had a severe reaction to the new meds. 

I knew it wasn’t true, and I knew she knew that too. But the only thing I could do from the other side of the world was to keep her company while she waited for the ambulance. So we pretended everything was fine, and we talked about Jake and Small Man and their upcoming exams, and we laughed about how different it had all been when we were at school. I sent her photos of Big Boy and Monkey Girl, and told her funny stories from my uni days. I said that once her medications were sorted, she’d be able to come home and eat the chicken soup we both loved so much.

Then I told her about a post I’d written the previous week, inspired by her amazing attitude to life. And I told her I adored her, and we said goodbye. She texted the following day to say she was in hospital. I never heard from her again.

Our final conversation was one of laughter and joy and love. Those forty minutes of texting and virtual hand holding felt like a gift and a privilege. I later heard that Selma’s best friend Alex flew in from South Africa when he’d heard that she was in hospital. Apparently he’d arrived and immediately made sure all of Selma’s affairs were in order for her, and that Jake would be well looked after in the future. I have trouble even typing that without crying, because that was always her major concern, making sure Jake would be okay. I can’t imagine a more powerful final act of love than one which enabled her to die in peace.

Farewell, Diva Sparkle. Thank you for the laughter, and the conversations, and for your continued inspiration. I miss you very much. ♥

A quick (un-sponsored!) heads-up on some great Kindle cookbooks currently available at Amazon.com…

. . . . .

Alice Medrich is one of my favourite cookbook authors of all things sweet.

I’m more than happy to pay full price for her books, so when these ones popped up on Amazon this morning for less than the cost of a takeaway coffee, I didn’t even bother trying to resist.

Workman Publishing heavily discount a few titles every month, and November was Alice’s turn. Her Pure Dessert has a print price of US$35.00 but is currently on sale in Kindle format for US$2.84…

Chocolate Holidays, print price US$15.00, Kindle price this month US$2.80…

Finally. this James Beard Award winner on baking with gluten-free and alternate flours is now just US$2.06 (print price US$35.00)…

I bought all three (of course!) and whilst I haven’t made anything from them yet, they all read well on my iPad. And I know from past experience that the recipes will be fabulous!

. . . . .

We’re huge Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall fans.

Watching River Cottage many years ago kickstarted our drive towards urban self-sufficiency. So when I saw this cookbook for just US$4.18, I didn’t even think twice before buying it.

I wasn’t sure I’d love it – the notion of limiting each recipe to just three main ingredients seemed a little forced – but it’s actually brilliant. The dishes are simple, and in many cases, I have the ingredients readily on hand.

Hugh’s red lentil, bacon and onion soup took no time at all to make and was wolfed down enthusiastically by Pete and Big Boy…

  • light olive oil for the pan
  • bacon (recipe says 4 slices – I used some nitrate-free bacon offcuts we had in the freezer)
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • 200g split red lentils, well rinsed
  • 1 bay leaf
  • salt and black pepper

Heat a little oil in a medium saucepan and fry the chopped bacon until the fat starts to melt. Add the onion and fry over a medium heat until soft and lightly coloured, stirring constantly.

Stir in the lentils, bay leaf and 800ml water. Simmer gently for about 15 minutes until the lentils are soft and breaking down. Remove the bay leaf, then blitz with a stick blender until smooth, adding water if necessary. Season to taste.

I could have dressed the photo up a bit better (sorry), but the soup was absolutely delicious. Definitely one we’ll make again!

. . . . .

Finally, my last purchase of the day was this little US$2 gem. After all, it’s nearly Christmas…

. . . . .

As you know, I love everything about e-cookbooks.

I love that they don’t cost the environment in trees and energy, I love that they don’t create storage issues, I love that they’re portable, I love that they don’t get dusty and torn. I love not paying for postage. And because they have no built-in production costs, they’re often available at amazing prices. Surely that’s a win for everyone!