Olive Oil Oatcakes or, Four Fleeting Months

September 27, 2011. I could have sworn I had been here more recently than that. But, no. Aside from swooping in from time to time and deleting spam and checking to see if anyone had commented on any ancient posts, I have been gone. 

I was around for a spell, setting up a still dark, still unfinished crafty page. It has promise. Autumn was full of craftiness - lots of sewing and gluing and feeling very homemade. There was not very much cooking, not much to write about. The adjustment to my daughter’s new school and extra-curricular life kicked me in the gut. That, and trying to be serious about shifting the extra twenty pounds that has been hanging around for nearly six years meant that cooking anything that wasn’t child-friendly or low in calories, carbohydrates, fat and sugar was clearly not a priority. 

I also discovered Downton Abbey. I know it really is no excuse as it only accounts for a few too short hours of the last four months (Yep, four months, I know). It is, however, very hard to not stand watching, wondering whether an extra or secret episode has unexpectedly downloaded in the twenty-six minutes since I last checked. It’s become a little consuming.

Selflessly though, here I am. Back, with something healthy and cupboard friendly and good for you and your offspring to eat without feeling like you have broken the calorie bank. I have made these oatcakes at least half a dozen times during my hiatus, each time a little different with various additions and subtractions. I have got it down though and after some alterations felt at liberty to share with you my take on an already great recipe.

Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, the master of all things head to tail and local and ethical and sustainable and well, you know where I am going, writes a column for The Guardian. In it, he talks of all manner of foodly things from pig's cheeks to sumac to steamed pudding to picnics. I appreciate what he does. I adapted one of those recipes from an article on biscuits to suit not only the tastes of my children but our pantry contents as well.

I spent time grinding rolled oats and pinhead oats and steel cut oats and trying to get the texture just right before I even tried it with just plain old rolled oats, unground, as they come. Turns out, I could have saved a lot of time and good, but not excellent, batches of these little cheese, jam, chutney, salmon, ham and anything else you could think to put on a cracker holders. Plain old rolled oats is the way forward as far as I am are concerned. The finished texture may rival some of the finest Scottish offerings and it was by far the easiest batch to deal with in the prep.

The original recipe suggests letting the dough rest for as long as it takes to open a bottle of wine and pour yourself a glass. I can assure you that if it rests for as long as it takes to drink that glass of wine it will not result in culinary ruin. You may have to add a touch more water and give it a slightly longer bake but it will be just as good, and maybe even a little crunchier.

As well as changing the oats, I may have added a touch more water than what Hugh recommends. He says sunflower seeds, I say use whatever takes your fancy, or you have in your cupboard. I have used nigella seeds, sesame seeds, poppy seeds, a mix of seeds and nothing. All have turned out just fine. The nigella are the prettiest and the plain ones are the most perfect oaty toastiness.

Olive Oil Oatcakes (adapted from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s Bill Rona’s Oatcakes recipe)

280 grams rolled oats

Cracked black pepper (Hugh recommends 10 twists, I think you can take it or leave it)

1/2 teaspoon salt

A small handful of seeds

75 ml extra virgin olive oil

Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Dust two baking sheets with flour. Boil the kettle.

Mix the dry ingredients. Stir in the olive oil. Make a well in the centre of the mixture. Add just enough boiling water to bring the dough together. You want the dough to be firm, not sticky.

Form the dough into a ball and allow to rest for a few minutes.

Roll out the dough on a floured surface to about 3mm thick. Cut into rounds, you will need to use a fairly sharp cutter, or using a sharp knife, cut into squares.

Place on baking sheets and bake for twenty minutes. Remove from the oven, turn oatcakes over and bake a further 5-10 minutes.

Remove from oven and cool.

Yield will depend on cutter size and shape but expect about 3 dozen 1 3/4-inch round biscuits.

Roasted Rhubarb - Rhubarb Trilogy 2011 Part I

As I mentioned here, what seems like only a few days ago but in reality is nearly a month, rhubarb and strawberry season was underway on a recent visit to England.

It was on this trip that Poppy re-discovered Eton Mess and labelled it as the best thing in the world. So good, it was, and is still, requested at the faintest whiff of a strawberry.  

After our first Cornish lane experience in a good two years, following signs promising the first fresh strawberries of the year, I was a little shaky. We unbuckled and made our way up the path. I was worried the berries would be sold out or, even worse, Spanish. Poppy was worried the farmer would be in the fields, unable to be found to sell his or her goods. Tilly was just happy to be unbuckled from the sick making journey to get there.

Lucky day, the farmer was in her shop and had flats of huge, juicy strawberries just in from their very own tunnels, flanked by stalks and stalks of ruby red rhubarb, begging to join our berries.

Normally, without the prospect of Eton Mess, Poppy would be all over a nice bunch of rhubarb. The berries and thoughts of cream and meringue were too much though and she made me promise, promise, promise that if we got rhubarb too, I could not mix it in thereby destroying everything an Eton Mess is supposed to be.

I didn’t mix it in, but I did put it on top. And, then I put it on top of muesli and yogurt in the morning and then on top of ice cream and then, I thought some pork, roast or chops, would benefit hugely from a few bits of this on top and a sprinkling of sea salt. Or, I thought, maybe a nice wedge of camembert or a bit of goat cheese and some oat cakes would be a nice medium. What I am trying to say is that there isn’t a whole lot that I don’t think this would be really good with. 

When you roast these, you’ll find they start to look a ‘little splody’, meaning they have almost burst their skins. That is fine. As the rhubarb cools, it will firm up and then you can move it around gently.

Roasted Rhubarb

7 big stalks of rhubarb washed and cut into 3-inch pieces

3/4 cups sugar

Preheat oven to 375ºF. If you have a convection oven, or fan in your oven, I would use it. If not, you may need to increase the cooking time. 

Line a baking sheet with parchment.

Toss the pieces of rhubarb in the sugar and arrange them on the baking sheet. Sprinkle the sugar that is left behind over them.

Bake for about 20 minutes, checking often, until they look like they are bursting and the edges have started to brown.

Remove from oven and cool. Transfer to a container or plate, reserving any juices for drizzling.

Use them to top Eton Mess, or muesli or yogurt or cheese or meat. You get the idea.

No Knead Olive Oil Pizza Dough - Kitchen Workhorse

Sometimes you happen upon something that makes your previous efforts seem like a colossal waste of effort. Years spent altering a bit of this and a bit of that, wondering which combination will be just right are looked back on as misguided and foolhardy. Now, I do know that life, and all it entails are about the journey, not about where you end up but, I have decided, that as far as pizza crust goes, we have arrived and reflection on the past will not be happening.

I have had a pretty decent pizza dough recipe that I have used for about twelve years. It makes a divine focaccia, which is really all about the olive oil and salt ratio. The pizza crust it makes, if your oven is hot enough and you are lucky enough to be using “00” flour, is pretty good. I have spent many hours kneading this dough, in all its flour combinations, trying to come out with just the right taste and bite. Rarely with overwhelming success and, when successful, rarely repeatable which I chalk up to our nomadic tendencies.

I like kneading bread, I love it in fact. I love it more when I have no one underfoot and something good to listen to, and by good I don’t mean Sharon, Lois and Bram. Under these circumstances, I don’t even mind the clean-up. It used to be a retreat, the morning bread making, hiding out in the galley before anyone woke and broke the silence. Sadly, or happily, these circumstances are pretty much a thing of the past and I look to simplifying, even if it means giving up on cheap therapy.

When I saw this recipe and heard about the the book it came from, Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day, like my friend Kate when I told her about it, said, ‘I don’t believe it.’ I still haven’t read the book but if this pizza crust recipe is anything to go by, it holds great promise.

I have made it with several different types of flour, all resounding successes. Our favourite is making it with all Speerville Mills Whole White flour. It has a great crunch and a nice toastiness on the crispier bits. The half white bread flour, half whole wheat was really good too. I wouldn’t go more than 50% whole wheat personally but to each his own.

I know what I am about to say will leave pizza purists reeling. Don't get me wrong. I love perfect pizza. I have been lucky enough eat it here and here and here repeatedly (I apologize for the music). I spent four months working in and out of Naples and when in Rome, er, I mean Naples, you do as the Neapolitans do. I also think that when you are not in Naples and you don't have a 200 year old oven or family tradition to carry on, you can use a little license.

We have been topping pizzas with everything and have discovered fruit pizzas. The first was a caramelized shallot, fresh mango and brie number with a bit of fresh chive that was scrummy. The next, a few days later, was the same caramelized shallots, apple and cheddar and I think I almost liked it better simply because the apples held a slight crunch.

The girls are loving their pizza bianca. Our version is a smear of garlic scape pesto with feta or cheddar. It’s also so good with spinach and artichokes.

While we haven’t been, and don’t, eat pizza everyday, this dough is great because a batch makes enough for about five or six thin crust pizzas. You can divide it after it rises and put it in bags in the fridge for up to twelve days. I am sure it would freeze really well but, I have to admit, we haven’t had to yet.

Tell me, what is your favourite pizza topping. Are you a traditionalist? Can you stomach pineapple? What’s your most adventurous?

Olive Oil Dough from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day

Makes enough for five to six thin crust pizzas (about 4 pounds of dough)

2 3/4 cups warm water

1 1/2 tablespoons active dry yeast

1 1/2 tablespoons salt

1 tablespoon sugar

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

6 1/2 cups flour (be adventurous)

In the bowl of a stand mixer, if you have one, or a large mixing bowl, mix the water, yeast, salt, sugar and olive oil together.

Mix in the flour until it all comes together.

Turn into a large bowl and cover, I use cling film because I know it will reach the top of my bowl. If your bowl is big enough, use a damp tea towel.

Let rise at room temperature until it falls back on itself (it rise so much that the bubbles burst and it collapses), or until it flattens on top.

Use immediately or divide, if you want, and refrigerate for up to twelve days, or freeze.

If you freeze it, although I haven’t tried, thaw it in the fridge without opening the bag or container.

Prepare it as you would your usual pizza.

Pistachio and Cranberry Pesto (and eleven of its uses)

I was at the market on Thursday collecting our CSA and strolling around, as you do at the market. We stopped to buy some cookies, sublime chocolate chip and walnut, from an Australian stall holder who was selling a wide variety of things -bread and pasta, pesto and hummus, olives and nuts, cookies and cheesecake. After serving a very anxious Tilly, he proceeded to give a very indecisive woman the hard sell on his pasta and pesto combos. 

Now, I think fresh pasta is a delicious luxury and homemade fresh pesto equally so but, if I am going to buy pesto of any sort, it had better be damn good. My curiousity, and maybe his selling technique, got the better of me and I caved in for a taste. The choice was Poppy’s and she decided that we should try the pistachio and cranberry pesto. I dutifully tried to scoop up what looked like a fancy herbed dipping oil onto the bit of bread for a taste without much solid stuff sticking. It tasted fine, if you drizzled it over something maybe even a little yummy but not fantastic, not really fruity or nutty or anything. We didn’t buy it.

I decided to make it and would like to say that this is a little holiday kitchen workhorse for you. It is warm and wintery and fresh at the same time. It is so versatile that without even trying, I can think of a ton of uses. We have tried it three ways and we only made it after lunch today. 

So, you can, of course, use it stirred into some pasta. The girls devoured this perfect apres-swim supper this evening. You could also put it in a little jar and tie a pretty ribbon around it and give it to a friend. Add a beautiful goat cheese, if you really like this friend. You could use it to top roasted squash. And, in that vein, it could turn the sweet potato casserole on its head - mini marshmallows beware. You could roll it in some filo, with or without a little bit of cheese (think soft) and make very tasty little hors d-oeuvres. Try stuffing it into apples, baking them and serving with a pork roast. I like to muck around with the humble grilled cheese but I really, honestly think this would be divine spread inside with some really old cheddar. I think that this would be really nice alongside turkey, not traditional cranberry sauce but maybe a tasty new tradition. And, despite my disregard for it, I can’t help but quietly whisper roast lamb to you as well.

Stephen, for supper, had it stuffed into a chicken breast and roasted - it would have only been better had I taken a real chicken breast out of the freezer instead of a skinless one. Had it been a real chicken breast, ie. one with skin, I would have been inclined to just stuff the pesto under the skin. I, for a late lunch, had it dobbled over some fresh figs, a SoCal benefit, with a bit of shaved Parmigiano Reggiano. It disappeared rather quickly. 

I should mention a few things about making this. I would recommend buying shelled pistachios for two reasons. The first is that you can save yourself a lot of time, especially if you find yourself dropping whatever it is you are doing to rescue various parts of your house, furniture, sanity from your small child. The second is, that by the time you finish shelling them, especially with a little helper, you will have eaten half of what you bought. If you can buy them shelled, roasted and unsalted, even better. If not, buy unroasted and lightly toast and cool them before you start. Try as hard as you can, and buy unsalted ones.

If you go the shelling route, you will need to get some of the loose skins off. Do that by wrapping the pistachios in a clean towel and rubbing them. Then they should be less skinny and ready to go.

This makes about four cups of pesto which is quite a lot but you can keep it in the fridge in a jar covered with olive oil for a couple of weeks at least, if it was to last that long.

Pistachio and Cranberry Pesto

1 1/2 cups shelled unsalted roasted pistachios

1 cup dried cranberries

2 large shallots minced

4 cloves garlic minced

1/4 cup + 3/4 cup olive oil

1/4 cup lemon juice

1 cup parsley finely chopped

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

Sauté the shallots and garlic with 1/4 cup olive oil until translucent. Cool.

Pulse the pistachios in the food processor.

Pulse the cranberries in the food processor, or finely chop.

Put all the ingredients in a bowl and mix it up. Store it in a jar in the refrigerator until you find the next use. It won’t take long.