AUTUMN FLAVOURS

Almonds, eggplant, mushrooms, beetroot, pumpkin, fennel, olives, walnuts, pecans, quinces, pears, leeks, spinach, and figs – these are some of the flavours of autumn. In season, now starring at a farmer’s market or greengrocers near you (if you're Down Under).

Having access to the global supermarket of choice and convenience, I rarely used to give a second thought to the origins of the produce I tossed in my shopping basket. Too busy living the urban dream. Having read a lot of Michael Pollan now, I find it impossible to go back to enjoying those asparagus that travel halfway across the planet so they can make an appearance on my plate in the curtain call of autumn. 

And I love this time of year, just look at this... 

And the ingredients on hand! They are the foundation of comforting soups, pies, cassoulets, risottos and tarts. I’ll try and feature a few before the last leaves drop from the trees in the next month.

Eating seasonally and more locally are tenets of the Slow Food movement. So too a conscious effort to oppose the distractions, fast food, and shattered rhythms of modern living by slow eating, of which I’m a big fan – long lunches at a shared table, family, friends, a few drinks, and then some lolling about.

This Easter was the longest long weekend we’ve had here in Australia in memory so there was no excuse not to come almost to standstill, breathe, and impersonate a sloth. How was it for you? I’m sure there was a lot of eating, like at mine. I had my local crew over. Four friends, who at one time or another have flatted together, shacked up, or lived in the same suburb, on and off now for 15 years. There’s a new member, but since she’s only just started solids, and can’t sit up, she couldn’t partake, though she did enjoy rolling around on the floor, trying to stick her feet in her mouth, and the pumpkin in her purée was lip service to seasonal eating.

I also served pumpkin purée – well, soup. It was a bit blah, and I’m sure you’ve got your own favourite version of this, so I’m skipping straight to the main game.   

This chicken dish, from Karen Martini, is simple as. Everything is thrown into the one dish and baked, and with its marinade featuring almonds and olives, I gave myself two gold stars for being in the right season at the right moment.

Roast Chicken with Green Olives, Almonds and Oregano

[from Where the Heart Is]

Serves 4

1 cup blanched almonds, coarsely chopped

80g pitted green Sicilian olives

1 cup flat leaf parsley leaves, finely chopped
1 bunch oregano leaves, chopped

2 green chillies, sliced

6tbsp extra virgin olive oil

freshly ground pepper

2 small red chillies, finely chopped

4 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 lemon, juiced and zested

1 1/2 tbsp Dijon mustard

a large pinch of sea salt

4 free-range chicken marylands, jointed

4 large desiree potatoes, peeled and finely sliced

2 red onions, sliced into rings

1/2 cup (125ml) water

1/2 cup (125ml) white wine

Preheat oven to 200 C. Combine almonds, olives, parsley, oregano, and green chillies in a large bowl, and drizzle with 2 tbsp of the olive oil. Stir and season with pepper. Set aside. 

In another large bowl mix red chillies, garlic, lemon juice and zest, mustard, and salt and pepper. Coat the chicken pieces with the mixture, and set aside for 10 minutes.

Heat 4 tbsp of olive oil in a frying pan over high heat, and add chicken pieces, taking care to brown on all sides. Remove from heat and rest for a minute on paper towel. Then add chicken to the almond marinade.

Grease an ovenproof dish and line with potato slices. Scatter the onion over the top. Top with the chicken pieces and pour the marinade evenly over the dish. Do the same with the water and wine.

Cover with foil and bake for 15 minutes (I do this for 25 minutes to make sure the chicken is cooked). Remove foil and bake for a further 15 minutes, or until the chicken is golden and cooked. Serve immediately.

The main challenge, always, with a three-course meal is balancing the menu. Here, dessert had to fit a few criteria: no chocolate (the easter bunny having almost overstayed her welcome); not too heavy and creamy as the pumpkin soup had a dollop of sour cream added when served; no nuts since the main featured almonds, and no resorting to out of season fruit. Figs are in season, but they have a short shelf life and I err on the side of caution when entertaining.

So here is where I hit paydirt.

Torta di caffe

[from delicious magazine, March 2011, issue 102]

Serves 6

5 eggs, at room temperature

1 cup (220g) caster sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

2 cups (500ml) full cream milk

1/2 cup (125ml) strong espresso coffee, cooled completely

Preheat the oven to 180C. Place six 150ml ramekins in a baking dish that allows enough space so they are all level.

Crack the eggs into a large bowl, add 1/3 cup sugar and whisk until the mixture is combined. 

Combine vanilla, milk and cold coffee, and then slowly add while continuing to whisk. Strain the mixture through a sieve.

Place remaining 2/3 cup sugar in a small non-stick saucepan with 1/3 cup of water. Gently warm over medium-low heat, without stirring, until the sugar has dissolved. Increase the heat to medium and cook for 4-6 minutes until the syrup turns golden. (Be patient with this and don’t turn up the heat to rush it through. It can burn quite suddenly... as I found out.) Remove from the heat and allow to cool for a couple of minutes.

Divide the syrup evenly among the ramekins. Allow to stand for 5 minutes to set, and then add the custard, dividing evenly between the ramekins.

Pour water into the baking dish until halfway up the side of the ramekins, taking care to not splash the water into the mixture. Place on the oven’s middle shelf and bake for 40-45 minutes or until each custard is almost set, but the centre is still a little wobbly.

Remove ramekins from baking dish and cool to room temperature. Cover and chill for 2 hours. 

To serve, boil some water and pour back into the baking dish. Run a sharp knife around the edge of each custard and one at a time dip the bottom of each ramekin in hot water for 10 seconds to loosen, then turn out into individual plates. I find the best way to do this is to place the plate over the ramekin and then grip both and flip gently but quickly... good luck! 

Not as sweet as creme caramel, this Italian version from Tobie Puttock, is dosed with espresso. Light, subtle, silky. An hour later, draped across the couch, there was even still room for chocolate.

SAY CHEESE

Easter is nearly upon us, daylight savings is over, and autumn has finally settled in Sydney. It’s that crossover time where tilting toward the comfort food of winter is delayed just a little longer (please) by the last flavours of a nearly forgotten summer. 

So I’m cracking out the cheese. Light, heavy, hero or bit part, lunch, dinner, starter, side, it’s the great mainstay for all seasons. I’m sure by now you’re starting to figure out that there’s never been a dairy product I could say no to, and as I’m a savoury girl, this is where my style of cooking finds its heart, and I hardly need to say its particular expression in nearly every cuisine on the planet plays very close to a culture’s sense of home. Sinful or sustaining, heart clogging, or heartening... again it all comes down to how much, how often, and how it’s included in a meal... and so I say, just a taste, now, tomorrow, and always. 

The ricotta gnocchi (with a nod to Italy) is a great starter for any dinner party from my favourite cookbook ever by Neil Perry (until his next one). The prawns also make it a great stand-alone lunch for guests on a warm day, or you can swap the prawns for roast pumpkin and serve it as a quiet dinner for two on a cold night.

Ricotta and Spinach Gnocchi with Burnt Butter and King Prawns

[from Neil Perry’s Good Food]

Serves 4

4 bunches (approx 1 kg) of English spinach, washed and trimmed

350g ricotta cheese

3 tbsp grated parmesan, plus extra to serve

2 egg yolks, lightly beaten

Sea salt and ground pepper

Plain flour for dusting

100g unsalted butter

16 sage leaves

8 king prawns, shelled (but with tails left intact)

Bring a saucepan of water to the boil, and blanch the spinach until just wilted (less than a minute). Drain into a colander, and plunge quickly into ice water and then drain again. Squeeze out as much water as possible, then chop finely. 

In a bowl put the spinach and add the ricotta, parmesan, egg yolks and season to taste. (Follow the quantities for the gnocchi exactly if you want them to bind properly.) Roll the mixture into 16 balls and stick in the fridge for 20 minutes.

Bring a large saucepan of lightly salted water to a gentle boil, and remove the gnocchi from the fridge and lightly dust with flour. Add the gnocchi to the water a few at a time and once they rise to the surface remove with a slotted spoon. Dive the gnocchi among four plates and sprinkle with parmesan and ground pepper.

Meanwhile, put the butter in a small saucepan and heat slowly until the butter starts to turn brown. Then add the sage leaves and allow them to crisp up. Then take off the heat.

In a frying pan, quickly sauté the prawns in a tiny bit of butter. Place the prawns on top of the gnocchi and spoon the butter and sage mixture over the top. Serve immediately.

The haloumi (with its Cypriot soul) is a perfect lunch or even brunch on a Sunday, especially if you add the sourdough toast to the dish as the recipe suggests. And best of all, it tastes like summer.

Fried Haloumi with Cherry Tomato Salsa

[from delicious magazine, April 2011, issue 103]

Serves 4

1/3 cup olive oil

2 chorizo sausages, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

2 x 250g punnet cherry tomatoes, halved

Pinch chilli flakes

1 tsp caster sugar

1/4 cup red wine vinegar

2 tbsp chopped flat leaf parsley, plus extra to serve

250g haloumi, cut into 8 slices

Extra

Chargrilled sourdough bread, to serve

Heat 2 tbsp of oil in a pan over medium heat. Cook chorizo, turning over, for 6-8 minutes until browned. Add garlic, tomatoes, chilli flakes, sugar and 2 tbs of red wine vinegar. Cook, stirring occasionally for 3 minutes until the sauce thickens. Add parsley and remaining vinegar, then remove from the heat.

Meanwhile, heat a chargrill pan and sear haloumi until golden brown and melting. Serve with the chorizo salsa, extra parsley and if you like, sourdough.

And the cheese biscuits? A bit of nostalgia that is Very Sydney, circa 1978. They’re from a cookbook called Mud Pies for Mothers that’s been gathering dust in North Shore homes for the past three decades.

Cheese Biscuits

[from Mud Pies for Mothers]

Makes 16 

60g butter, at room temperature

85g self raising flour

85g grated (soft) cheddar cheese

A pinch of salt and cayenne pepper

Coconut

Heat the oven to 180C. Line a tray with baking paper.

Cream the cheese and butter in a food processor. Sift the flour, cayenne pepper and salt and add throw into food processor.

Take a teaspoon size of the mixture, and roll into a ball. Toss in coconut and then flatten with a fork (it should end up the size of a 10 cent piece).

Line up on baking paper and bake until golden – around 12-15 minutes.

Store in an airtight container.

I grew up handing these around at dinner parties for my mother. They’re incredibly simple to make with no fancy ingredients from a time when fancy just wasn’t available in the suburbs. If you have a food processor just throw in all the ingredients, and pummel it.

You can make them in advance, because the secret is they are so much better a day later. As the heat subsides, their richness emerges. Much like the slow pleasures and slow food days of autumn.

Have a lovely Easter...