Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Fennel Salt Schiacciata


I'm so depressed. Masterchef is over (again) and I've added another year to my life. It's not that I feel old because I don't - I've only turned 24. It's just that sometimes it feels like it all goes by so quickly. Woosh! There goes another year, and another, and another.. I don't feel like I've really done much besides work. I've yet to have the epiphanous moment, you know, the one when you finally realise what your lifelong dream has been all along.

I think I might like to be a food producer somewhere down the track. I love the idea of turning to the ways of the Old World. I read a tiny snippet in the paper last week about a new university course being offered in Britain - a year-long diploma on artisan foods. If only I had an extra 20,000 pounds sitting in the bank. I'd love to spend every single day up to my elbows in curd and learning how to make cheese or bread or smallgoods. Now that would be a dream come true.

A few weeks ago in masterclass, Michael Klausen of Brasserie Bread taught two lucky contestants how to make schiacciata. Its Italian name translates to 'crushed' and it is believed to have originated in Tuscany where during the grape harvest, crushed grapes are pressed into the dough along with olive oil, honey and salt. Like focaccia, schiacciata is a flatbread that is leavened with yeast and dimpled before baking over hot stones.

I know a few chefs who aren't too keen on Masterchef. It does make situations a bit awkward when a random weirdo guy comes into the kitchen to stare at us in the middle of dinner service with nothing to say except "Oh I cook too!". Okaaaay then.. I tend to think of it as more of a DIY show like Gardening Australia or Better homes and Gardens. I can pick up some new recipes and techniques from watching the show but I'm not a better cook until I actually give it a go.

After watching the episode online and with the kneading technique still fresh in my mind, I took Michael Klausen's suggestion to use fennel and set about making my fennel salt schiacciata. I used all-purpose flour which doesn't absorb as much liquid as high-protein baker's flour so my dough wasn't as wet as it was on the telly. It took 6 rounds of kneading and resting before the gluten in the dough was worked enough to form a thin membrane when stretched. Despite not having the right flour at hand, my schiacciata emerged from the oven deeply caramelised on the top, crunchy, salty, sweet and oh so aromatic. Mmm..


Fennel Salt Schiacciata
adapted from a recipe by Michael Klausen
420 g plain flour
10 g instant yeast
10 g sea salt
10 g extra virgin olive oil, plus extra for brushing
285 g water
10 g rapadura cane sugar
4 g sea salt flakes
4 g fennel seeds
Place flour in a large mixing bowl.
Place yeast on one side and salt on the other (salt will kill the yeast if they come into direct contact).
Add the oil and water and stir together until it forms a dough.
Transfer to a bench and knead for 5 minutes.
Cover with the bowl and rest for 2 minutes.
Repeat kneading and resting another 5 times.
Lightly grease a clean bowl and place the dough inside.
Cover with clingfilm or a damp cloth and prove for 1 hour.
Transfer to the bench and gently press to form a rectangle.
Visually divide the rectangular dough into thirds and fold both ends into the middle.
Press out a little to form a rectangle and fold into thirds again (this step promotes even yeast distribution within the dough).
Flip the dough so that the seam is on the bottom and return to the bowl.
Cover and prove for 30 minutes.
Divide dough into two equal pieces.
Place each dough piece onto a sheet of baking paper as large as your oven tray.
Using only your fingertips press both dough pieces into rectangles with rounded ends approximately 13cm x 25xm.
Push your fingertips into the dough, firmly and evenly to dimple the entire surface.
Brush liberally with olive oil, sprinkle 5 g of rapadura cane sugar, 2 g of sea salt flakes and 2 g of fennel seeds over each.
Cover with deep baking trays or clingfilm and prove for 30 minutes.
Place a heavy steel baking sheet into the lower section of the oven and preheat to 210ºC.
Slide one dough piece onto the hot oven tray and bake for 15 minutes.
Remove bread to a cooling rack.
Repeat with the second dough.



Tuesday, July 13, 2010

An Inspired Winter Salad


My little garden is a constant source of inspiration for the dinner table at our house. Being able to watch my food grow has made seasonal produce take on a whole new meaning. I grew my own tomatoes last year and the intense aroma of fruit ripening on the vine, still glistening with early morning dew, is absolutely incomparable to the 'fresh' product available in supermarkets.

The unfortunate reality is that people want their food to be perfect in shape and completely blemish-free, which leads to large supermarket chains buying food that stores and travels well. Just take a look at the rock-hard and under-ripe peaches, and watery, white strawberries when you see them in the shops next and you'll know what I mean. It's great if you want a salad bowl full of fruit on display for three weeks but not so great if you're after real flavour.

Andrew Swallow, graduate of the Culinary Institute of America (the college of my dreams) and author of 'Mixt Salads' (a vibrant book jammed with seasonal salad recipes, some beautiful photography, tips on how to eat sustainably and create your own exciting salads!) inspired me to put a winter salad together.

I combined Brussels sprouts, crisp white icicle radish (I buy my seeds from Digger's Club) and smoked speck that I pan-fried until crunchy and caramelised with a horseradish dressing and some European yoghurt. Let's be honest, what doesn't taste better with smoked speck in it? I really love the sharp, zingy flavour of yoghurt here too as I think it works well with the bite of horseradish. The dressing is light and creamy, slightly sweet but mainly acidic.


Winter Brussels Sprout Salad

58 g Brussels sprouts, leaves only
21 g white icicle radish, peeled and sliced paper-thin
30 g smoked speck, rind removed
30 g European style yoghurt
Separate the Brussels sprout leaves by cutting off the stem and pulling it apart layer by layer.
Cut the inner core into quarters.
Bring a pot of salted water to the boil.
Blanch Brussels sprout leaves into water until just cooked.
Remove and plunge into ice water to stop the cooking process.
Drain and dry the leaves.
Slice the speck into thin, bite-sized pieces.
Pan-fry until crispy.
Reserve the rendered fat for the dressing.
Toss together the Brussels sprout leaves, icicle radish and smoked speck.
Transfer onto a plate and dot around small amounts of yoghurt.


Horseradish Dressing
3 g horseradish cream
3 g light agave syrup
7 g apple cider vinegar
1 g smoked speck fat
Combine all ingredients in a small bowl.
Add a small pinch of salt and taste.
Drizzle over the salad.


Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Own Stephanie Alexander for 25 Bucks!


Stephanie Alexander's Kitchen Garden Companion is a book that I've long been craving. I spent a whole afternoon at Kinokuniya bookstore reading and re-reading the first few chapters while I was in the midst of planning out the execution of my no-dig garden last year. Six months later, I found myself glued to its open pages in the middle of a David Jones hall, completely oblivious to having lost my friend in the frenzy of a kitchenware sale. As much as I loved to flick through the pages of this encyclopedic cookbook, I could never bring myself to justify the $125 price tag but then, only yesterday, a serendipitous moment occurred.

Searching online through booko for the cheapest available copy of 'Bakewise' by Shirley O'Corriher, randomly clicking on another title called 'Sorted: A Rookie's Guide To Crackin' Cooking', I saw it. Down the bottom of the page amongst a jumble of other books I read: "The Kitchen Garden Companion 88 days to go Pre order AUD$25.79". TWENTY-FIVE BUCKS?!?! That's one hundred dollars off the original price! *Click click click* well that's my copy sorted! Hoo! Hoo! I sure as hell can't wait to be holding it in my hot little hands! 

I remember reading somewhere that kitchen gardens were once commonplace. In America, Canada, Germany and the UK, "Victory Gardens" were designed to provide food and keep up morale in times of war. Community allotment gardens are gaining popularity in leaps and bounds, as are vertical window gardens and green roofs. Working on the outskirts of the CBD, I've walked past a few terrace houses where people have even reclaimed the tiny verge outside on the street.

I love food and the many pleasures derived from frolicking in the front yard, pruning a little here and there, poking insects with a stick and tending to my fruit and veg. It's just so darn peaceful, I'm often surprised and it saves me money too! I can't remember the last time I went to the shops to buy a bunch of herbs. If you've ever pondered over starting a vegie patch or potted herb garden, I have a few words of advice: "Just get on with it!".
a little surprise

Saturday, July 3, 2010

MasterChef Challenge: Passionfruit Pavlova


With three contestants from earlier episodes back in play for another shot at the MasterChef title, I thought I'd revisit one of the very first challenges set by Donna Hay. Can you guess what it is? Why it's the pavlova challenge of course!

We all know what pavlova is: crisp and crunchy on the outside with soft, pillowy meringue on the inside and all as white as a cloud on a bright, sunny day. Where most people tend to go wrong in the pav-making process is hmm let's see.. The stage when the egg whites are whisking and the recipe calls to add sugar to create a meringue. If you've read books by the likes of Shirley O'Corriher, Harold McGee or Hervé This, you'll be aware that adding sugar early in the mixing process inhibits the ability of egg white to become light and fluffy with loads of volume.

If you add sugar at the beginning, you'll end up with the perfect paste to pour into a soup bowl. What you should do instead, is beat the whites until they are aerated enough to form soft peaks and only then begin adding sugar (a little at a time mind you). If you dump it all in at once, the egg whites will collapse. If you add it gradually, the sugar will bind with the whites to create a more stable platform to hold up under the weight of the additional sugar and you'll have a meringue with maximum volume!


At the far end of my garden, a golden passionfruit vine has slowly wound its way up an old stone wall that provides shelter for ferns living on the other side. Using a sprightly young orange tree as leverage, it reaches for the empty sky and basks in sunlight all day long. Late autumn marked the first (ever!) harvest, and even now the vine lays abundant with winter fruit. 

Allowing the season to guide my inspiration, I decided against making a traditional pavlova. Wanting to do something a little more fun, I clambered up the stone wall and reached through the thorns of the orange tree. Waving a spindly stick around like a lunatic, I eventually swatted down about half a dozen ripe golden passionfruit from the creepers that had entwined themselves around the upper branches.

I scooped out the sweet pulp and incorporated most of it into a rich pastry cream, half of which went into the oven to dry into wafer-thin crisps. The other half, I reserved in a piping bag for plating. I made oeufs a la neige in the microwave and mandarin jelly from the juice of freshly squeezed mandarins (straight out of the garden too!). I kept the peel and candied it in a simple syrup with anise, pared a few mandarin segments, cracked open a couple of walnuts and turned the remaining passionfruit pulp into a sharp vinaigrette.


Passionfruit Pastry Cream and Crisps

420 g milk
94 g egg yolk (approx. 5)
85 g castor sugar
32 g potato starch
4 g sea salt (I use Murray River pink salt flakes)
45 g unsalted butter
128 g golden passionfruit pulp
Pour milk into a small pot and bring to the boil. Remove from heat.
Whisk eggs, sugar, potato starch and salt in a bowl until thoroughly combined.
Temper eggs by slowly adding hot milk, whisking continuously.
Pour into pot and simmer over medium heat for 2 minutes to thicken, whisking continuously.
Remove from heat and whisk for a few minutes to cool.
Whisk in butter when it cools to below 55ºC but is still quite warm.
Whisk in passionfruit pulp.
Spread half onto baking paper in a thin layer.
Place onto a baking tray and dehydrate at 90ºC for 2 hours or until crisp when cool.
Push remaining pastry cream through a fine sieve.
Keep refrigerated in a piping bag until serving.


Candied Mandarin Peel

25 g mandarin peel
150 g castor sugar
150 g water
1 g sea salt
1 star anise
Cut peel into 2-3 cm wide pieces.
Remove any white pith with a sharp knife.
Blanch 3 times in boiling water to soften.
Place sugar, water, salt and star anise in a small pot and bring to the boil.
Add mandarin peel, reduce heat until barely bubbling.
Cook over low heat until nearly translucent (approx. 30 mins) and the syrup becomes viscous like honey.
Cool and store in syrup in fridge.


Mandarin Jelly

1 gold gelatine leaf
20 g boiling water
150 g freshly-squeezed mandarin juice
Soak gelatine leaf in cold water for a minute to bloom.
Squeeze out excess moisture and dissolve in a bowl with boiling water.
Add mandarin juice and whisk to combine.
Strain and pour into a shallow dish.
Refrigerate for 1 hour or until set.


Oeufs A La Neige

144 g egg white (approx. 5)
175 g castor sugar
2 g vanilla paste
Place everything in a bowl over a bain marie and stir gently until the whites have warmed up slightly and the sugar has dissolved.
Transfer to an electric stand mixer.
Whisk on high speed for 2 minutes.
Reduce speed to medium-high and whisk for an additional 3 minutes.
Divide into two square plastic containers (takeaway containers work well) and smooth over the top.
Microwave one at a time on medium setting for 90 seconds or until cooked through and puffed like a souffle.
Refrigerate until thoroughly cold.


Passionfruit Vinaigrette
33 g golden passionfruit pulp
5 g extra virgin olive oil (I used Nolans Road - Delicate)
2 g light agave syrup (available in Aus. from Santos Natural Food Store)
2 g apple cider vinegar
Whisk together in a small bowl to break up the passionfruit pulp.


To plate up - pipe passionfruit pastry cream into two parallel lines 3cm apart, running from one end of the plate to the other. Using a 3cm diameter round pastry cutter, cut cylinders out of the cold oeufs a la neige. They should feel firm like marshmallow. Square off the ends and place these along the lines of pastry cream. Place a few mandarin segments around the cream and spoon a little mandarin jelly in-between. Slice a piece of candied mandarin peel into thin strips and drape a few over the mandarin segments. Pop a few small pieces of raw walnut around and spoon over a generous tablespoon or two of passionfruit vinaigrette. Break the dehydrated pastry cream into shards and finish by leaning one up against each vanilla eouf.

Ta da! And that's my passionfruit & mandarin pavlova! It encompasses all of the original tastes and textures - sweet, sour, crisp, crunchy, creamy, soft and smooth, but presented in a different form, I think it takes an old dessert to a new level.

Submitted for Grow Your Own: July 2010 hosted by Kitchen Gadget Girl.

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