Peanut Crunch Slice

It's an overcast Sunday, my fluffy slippers are on and the heater is churning away.  "True" Canberrans may try and hold out until ANZAC Day (25 April) before switching on the heating but I say bah humbug to them!  It was cold when I got up!

There really is something to be said for pottering around in PJs and slippers on a Sunday, sipping some coffee (with the heating on) and tapping away at the computer.  This post is the product of a similarly lazy Sunday when I felt the need to see what kind of a slice I could make entirely from the contents of my pantry.  You see I have an overly well-stuffed pantry and with my impending departure date for Europe three months away, I need to get through some of the items I have hoarded during my sojourn in Canberra.  And so the Peanut Crunch Slice was born.

This recipe is based on the original Peanut Crunch Slice recipe in the unglamorous but classic (and ever reliable) Nursing Mother's Association of Australia Cookbook.  Like many of the truly excellent cooking books on my shelves, this was given to me by my mum when I was just started to get interested in cooking (aka when I moved out of home and could no longer rely on Mum to feed me!).  It has no photos whatsoever, the simplest of 1980s fluro orange covers and features classics such as "Pumpkin Fruit Cake", "Simplicity Chocolate Cake" (my go-to basic chocolate cake recipe), "Tipsy Cake" and "Prune Snow".  I really need to use it more!

At any rate, I used the recipe as a base, jazzing it up with slivered almonds and shredded coconut in addition to the salted peanuts specified in the cookbook.  It turned out beautifully - the perfect mix of crunch, sweetness and saltiness.  It chops into neat squares that transport easily, which make it a great treat to give as a gift or take to work for a morning tea.

Peanut Crunch Slice

Ingredients

Slice
- 185 grams butter (unsalted), melted
- 40 grams salted peanuts
- 20 grams slivered almonds
- 1 cup self raising flour
- 1 cup shredded coconut (you can substitute all or part with shaved coconut)
- 50 grams roughly chopped dark chocolate

Icing
- 1 cup icing sugar
- 1 tablespoon cocoa
- 1 1/2 tablespoons hot water

Start by preheating the oven to 180 degrees Celcius.  Line a slice baking tin (long with low sides of approximately 1 inch in height) with baking paper.

Melt the butter and mix through all the other ingredients for the slice in a mixing bowl.  Press the mixture into the prepared slice tin and bake for 15-20 minutes until golden.  Remove and let it cool before you go any further.

When the slice is cooled, it's time to make the icing.  In a medium-sized bowl mix the icing sugar, cocoa and hot water together.  Pour over the cooked slice, spreading it until it covers the slice.  Allow to set and then use a sharp knife to slice it into squares of whatever size you fancy.

Sour Cherry Pie

When you're invited to a BBQ at John and Rachael's place - where the ribs are always excellent and the grilled haloumi plentiful - the appropriate response is always "what can I bring"?  I short-circuited the inevitable counter response of "nothing but yourself" by asking "what can I bake" instead.

The answer - pie! And just when isn't pie the answer?!

John kindly sent me a list of pie fillings he'd personally like to try and I chose "sour cherry".   The pumpkin pie and strawberry and kiwi fruit pie will have to wait until further invitations are forthcoming...

Now, sour cherries are not something I was terribly familiar with.  All the recipes in my many American baking books called for fresh sour cherries, which apparently have a tragically short season.  Seeing as it was autumn (not exactly cherry season in Australia) and that I had never seen sour cherries sold at any of the many markets I traipse about at regularly, I had consigned myself to using tinned sour cherries.  Now, this is not ideal as cherries preserved in syrup are a whole lot more watery than the cherries called for in my recipe books, and I was pretty sure this could make a big difference in the outcome.

Thankfully my local European deli came to the rescue with frozen sour cherries - and if the final dish was anything to go by, it was well worth the running around to find them.

I stuck very faithfully to the Martha Stewart Cookbook recipe for sour cherry pie, seeing as this was my first pie-making venture.  I also told myself repeatedly that I was going for "rustic" and not "Martha-perfect" and, with that in mind, I was very happy with the result.  The pastry was tasty and flaky, the filling just the right amount of sweet-and-sour and it all went down very well with a big scoop of vanilla ice-cream.

So thank you, John and Rachael, for providing me with the motivation and the inspiration for trying something a little out of my comfort zone!

Sour Cherry Pie

Ingredients

Pastry
- 2 1/2 cups plain flour
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 teaspoon white sugar
- 1/2 pound cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes
- 1/2 cup ice water

Pie filling
- 4 cups pitted sour cherries (fresh or frozen), plus 1/2 cup left over cherry juice
- 1 cup white sugar
- 1 tablespoon plain flour
- 2 1/2 tablespoons of cornflour
- Juice and zest of 1/2 lemon
- 2 tablespoon cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
- 1 egg beaten with milk or cream

I kicked off first thing in the morning by setting up my food processor and making the pastry, which required at least an hour in the fridge before I could roll it out for the pie.  Once the processor was set up, I added the flour, salt and sugar into the bowl.  The butter, cold straight out the fridge, went in next and then I blitzed it with the processor until it looked like course meal (you can do this by hand with a pastry blender, but I was a little pressed for time).

Next I added the cold water while the processor was going, one 1/4 of a cup at a time, until it formed a rough ball in the processor bowl.  You don't want to do this too long, because it will make the pastry tough.  It really should take no more than 1/2 cup of ice water, so don't keep adding more.  You don't want the pastry to be too wet and sticky.

Now lay some cling wrap on your bench and scoop out the pastry onto it.  Roll the pastry into a round ball and cover in cling wrap tightly.  Pop it in the fridge for at least an hour, maybe while you go to the market for the cherries (that's what I did).

When you are ready to make the pie, firstly preheat your oven to 200 degrees Celcius (400 F).  Now, divide your pastry in half and roll out one of the halves on a floured surface - I used a large wooden chopping board for ease of cleaning up.  Use a pastry roller but don't forget to pop some flour on it so that it doesn't stick.  The pastry should be rolled out to approximately 1/4 cm in thickness.  Drape this over a 9 inch pie dish or pan.  Cut off the edges so it matches the shape of the dish.

Next, roll out the other half of the pastry to the same thickness.  I suggest a lattice top for this pie (or rather, Martha does), so I used a ravioli cutter - which produces lovely wavy edges - to cut the pastry into long strips about 1 cm thick.  A knife would also be fine, but you'll get straight edges.  Then, with the excess pastry, I cut up some leaf shapes and used the back of a knife to put a line through the middle of them to look like the centre vein in a leaf.  Schmancy, I know.

I then covered the pie plate lined with pastry with cling wrap and popped it in the fridge to rest (again to avoid a tough pastry).  I placed the lattice strips and leaves on a baking tray I had lined with baking paper (so the pastry didn't stick) and covered it with cling wrap too.  Again, this also went into the fridge for the pastry equivalent of a nanna nap.

Now it was time to tackle the filling.  I put the cherries in a large mixing bowl and added the sugar, lemon juice and zest, flour and cornstarch, stirring through until the cherries were evenly coated.  I poured this into the now chilly pastry case and dotted the top with little squares of butter.

The strips of pastry are then "woven" over the top of the cherry filling - you put your first strips down in one direction and then "weave" your other strips in the other direction alternately over and under the other pieces.  Have a good look at the picture of my pie and you will get the general idea.  I pinched the sides of the pie to help the lattice adhere to the edges, and then placed the leaves in bunches around the pie.  All of the pastry then got brushed with the egg-milk wash, and it was into the oven for around 50 minutes, by which time the pastry had turned a golden brown and the filling was bubbling ever so slightly in the centre.

Even if you want to eat the pie hot (which I personally prefer), I suggest waiting a good 15 minutes at least for the filling to firm up a little before you slice.  And if the filling is a little runnier than Martha's directions would suggest, forget about it.  Ladle on the vanilla ice cream and get stuck in - it's pretty damn delicious.

Sparkling Weather, Sparkling Wine - Canberra District Wine Challenge Day 3

After the torrential rain of the Day Two of the Canberra District Wine Challenge, it was with some trepidation that the Merry Four ventured out for Day Three of the Challenge.  We needn't have worried, as the weather featured spectacular crisp blue skies and bright sun which matched perfectly the star of the day's tastings - Canberra District sparklings.

Now I must start off by stating that the sparkling white I purchased on Day Two of the Challenge from my favourite winery to date - Lark Hill - was pretty spectacular but, at $60 a bottle, more of a special occasion tipple with its taste of fresh pears and fine, crisp bubbles.  But on Day Three of the Challenge we switched to the other side of the Canberra District, heading to two vineyards in the Hall area (Surveyor's Hill and Pankhurst), stopping for lunch at Poacher's Pantry (and a cheeky Wily Trout sparkling) and then on to another three vineyards on the fringe of the Murrumbateman area (Gallagher, Granitevale and Jeir Creek).

At each of the cellar doors (other than Granitevale) the sparklings were the stand-out wines, whether of a white or red variety.  Interestingly, the Surveyor's Hill, Pankhurst and Gallagher sparklings were all made by Greg Gallagher of Gallagher Wines and the love and passion of this self-confessed "sparkling fanatic" shines through every drop.  Incidentally, his wife's cheese is also pretty spectacular.

But I have skipped ahead a little too far!  We started with a left turn off the highway towards the cluster of vineyards around the village of Hall, in sight of the Murrumbidgee River valley and fringing the NSW-ACT state border.  Surveyor's Hill, the first stop, had a fabulous view, a well-designed tasting area and cafe, and an owner who happily explained all her wines.  The consensus amongst the Merry Four was that the white sparkling was well worth the buying.  The interestingly savoury port (although I think we're not allowed to call it that now...) tasted like the port equivalent of dark and bitter chocolate.   We didn't stop to try the food at their restaurant but the menu looked good enough to justify a return trip and they had a nice combustion fire which would ensure a toasty warm lunch when the weather gets a little wilder.

I must admit a soft spot for the next cellar door on our trip, just a bit further down the dirt road - Pankhurst Wines with its slightly less "polished" labels but some terrific wines.  Visit for their punchy sparkling white (I bought the very last bottle from the 2006 vintage) and their wonderful reds - the best we've tried to date.  Thankfully, their new vintage is being released shortly.

Like Surveyor's Hill, Pankhurst also has a spectacular view of the Murrumbidgee and a wonderful wine-barrel seating area overlooking the river, in case you feel like stopping and polishing off a bottle before you move on.  While their cellar door was a little less "architectural" than a lot of the places we've visited, the wines are the focus at Pankhurst, and what a focus they are.  The Christobel 2006 sparkling white was well worth the trip down the dirt lane all on it's own, but add to that some truly top notch reds - yes, even I, the white wine-lover, picked up a bottle of sangiovese - and I want to encourage you all to make the trip out to Pankhurst.  At $23 a bottle for the sparkling and $30 for the sangiovese, pick up a few bottles while you are there too.  And the sparkling red was also pretty fab.

At this point our stomachs started to grumble, so we headed back down the highway for Poacher's Pantry.  Now, I have always thought Poacher's was a little overrated.  The staff can be a little on the frosty side and they like to rush you out pretty quickly to make room for bigger groups.  But on this occasion, I was the one who had the excellent meal - a slow-roasted pork belly juicy and then crispy in all the right places.  The platter of smoked meats and dips was also delicious, but the pot pies were on the runny, flavourless side and my friend's salmon was raw in the centre when it arrived, and then nuked in the microwave when he complained.  But, when we raised things with the floor manager, the salmon was thankfully removed from the bill.

While we were at Poacher's Pantry we also tasted some of the wines in their Wily Trout (the expensive line) and Fingerlings (the "budget" line) ranges.  Coming as the tasting did straight after our terrific experience at Pankhurst, the wines at Poacher's were a tad disappointing, especially considering they were priced about $5 more on average than the bottles at many of the better vineyards we stopped at.  Again, I enjoyed the Wily Trout white sparkling, which they refer to as "salmon" as it's got a lovely golden apricot colour... as it turned out this too was made by Greg Gallagher.

Cutting our losses, we headed off to the next cluster of vineyards down the road.  Gallagher Wines was the most entertaining of the day's cellar doors.  As well as making a great sparkling, Greg is also a bit of showman.  For example, when tasting the sparkling shiraz, Greg gets you to nibble at a piece of bitter dark chocolate to show off the potential for matching the wine with dessert.  I walked away with his more expensive Blanc de Blanc 2007 sparkling, having tasted the sparkling chardonnay/pinot noir "Duet".  At $30 and $25 respectively, I would have loved to buy a case - but budgets being what they are, took home a respectable single bottle of Blanc de Blanc.  What restraint!

Next it was on to Granitevale, down an endless dirt road to a rather respectable graded driveway of epic proportions.  As a white lover it was disappointing to turn up to a cellar door to discover that not a single white was available to taste or buy.  The general impression of the red drinkers was disappointment.  Not bad, not great.  Personally, I fell in love with their dogs and occupied myself with dishing out pats and tummy scratches.  Apparently they're famous for their ice wine, but again there was only a pink ice wine to taste and, while it was a perfectly reasonable dessert wine, at $25 a bottle, I didn't feel the need to splash out.

We finished the day off at one of my favourite Canberra wineries - Jeir Creek.  This one is well worth the visit for all its wines.  Yes, I mean all of them.  The whites, particularly the 2011 sauvignon blanc which smells to me of passionfruit, and the new voignier with its fruity pear flavours, were the reason I walked out with a box under my arm.  And for my free seventh bottle?  Well, the sparkling white, "Les Trois Filles" of course.  At $20 a bottle it is both the cheapest and the best of the day, fruity and full-bodied while still being dry enough for my taste, and it's only the third vintage they have yet produced.  To me it smells of saffron and the foods of Morocco... but maybe that's just me?

At any rate, Jeir Creek is the one cellar door where I routinely buy a half dozen on every trip. Mr & Mrs Ducky, red sparkling fans, were also pleased by the quality of the sparkling wine across the board and I will shortly be reporting on a sparkling tasting night featuring bottles of both varieties from all the vineyards we visited on Day Three.  Ten cellar doors down, twenty-five to go!

Slow Roasted Spiced Leg of Lamb

For a long time I have wanted to try out a recipe for a leg of lamb which has been marinated for 24 hours in a spicy yoghurt sauce, which I spotted in a very unassuming Indian cookbook given to me by the Cookbook Fairy Godmother (my Mum).  The book is called "A Heritage of Indian Cooking" by Joseph Cotta and the reason it had lingered so long, unopened on my bookshelf is - I am ashamed to say - the fact that it has no photos.

I admit it, when looking for foodie inspiration, I usually go straight to the pretty, glossy books with photography so good that you start salivating just looking at the pages.  This book is small, bright orange and has not a picture to be seen.  And I cannot believe I have overlooked it for so long!  I discovered the recipe for "Raan", which the book describes as "a wonderful Sunday treat", while cooking the recipe for black lentil dhal (it's a winner too, and I'll be sure to include it at some stage along the way).  

In my usual fashion, I took the original recipe and twisted it somewhat, while keeping what I hope is the essence of the original flavours.  For instance, when I made the marinade I didn't have any blanched almonds in the cupboard or fresh ginger in the fridge, so substituted shredded coconut and ground ginger instead.  I also decided that if I was going to go the whole hog (or lamb, so to speak) and marinate the sucker for 24 hours, why stint on the cooking time?  So rather than cook the leg of lamb on the stove top for the 3 hours or so described in the cookbook, I decided to still use a cast-iron casserole pot but instead to pop it in a 170 degree Celcius oven for five hours.  It was well worth the extra time out of my day, as the result was so tender and flavourful that it literally fell from the bone in shreds when I attempted to remove the leg whole from the pot!

The dish, which I served with small roasted onions I popped in the oven for the last couple of hours, and  yoghurt flavoured with garlic and coriander, was a real crowd pleaser.  There were seconds and then thirds served and I polished off the last of the lamb today for lunch.  It was pretty good reheated, let me tell you!  A shout out goes to Ms K for the delicious potato gratin which so complimented the lamb.

Although the sound of marinating something for a day may seem a little high maintenance for most, I assure you the marinade was pretty straightforward and, once it was poured over the lamb, you got quite a lot of bang in flavour for your small amount of effort.

Slow Roasted Spiced Leg of Lamb

Ingredients

- Leg of lamb weighing approximately 2.8-3 kilograms (will feed 7-8 people)
- 6 garlic cloves, sliced into quarters or halves length ways
- 1 cup plain yoghurt (unsweetened)
- 1/2 teaspoon of saffron strands
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 teaspoon ground tumeric
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
- 2 tablespoons shredded coconut (unsweetened)
- juice of 2 lemons
- 3 tablespoons ghee
- 4 tablespoons brown sugar
- 8 small onions, peeled

On the day before you intend to eat your leg of lamb, it's time to marinate, baby!  First, soak your saffron strands in three tablespoons of hot water.  Then, in a blender or food processor, blend the yoghurt, all the spices, the coconut, the saffron and the water it's infused in, and the lemon juice.

On the stove in a small saucepan, melt the ghee and tip the brown sugar on top.  When it's starting to melt and bubble, add 1 1/2 cups of water.  Bring this to a boil and then turn down the heat to a brisk simmer, stirring constantly until the liquid has reduced to one-third it's former volume and looks dark and treacly.   Reserve half the liquid for later and pour the other half into the yoghurt marinade, whisking to combine.

Meanwhile, place your leg of lamb in a deep glass baking dish.  Stab the meat with a knife and push the garlic cloves into the slices.  Pour the yoghurt marinade over the top, ensuring it covers every surface.  Cover with cling wrap and place in the refridgerator for the next 24 hours.

The next day, you should remove the leg of lamb from the fridge about two hours before you plan to put it in the oven.  You want it to return to room temperature so the slow-cooking times aren't thrown out of whack.

Next, preheat your oven to 170 degrees Celcius.   Remove the leg of lamb from the marinade and save the marinade for later.

Heat a heavy cast-iron casserole dish on the stove top and melt two tablespoons of ghee.  Brown all the sides of the leg of lamb - you just want to brown it, not cook it, so it shouldn't take too long - and then add two cups of water over the top of the lamb.  Cover the pot with aluminium foil and then place the lid on top.  Put the casserole dish in the oven and leave it well alone for two hours.

At the two-hour mark, remove the dish from the oven and turn the leg of lamb over to ensure the whole leg stays moist.  Return the casserole dish to the oven.

Now, mix the last of the dark sugar syrup with the remaining marinade, again whisking them together to combine.

At the three-hour mark, remove dish from the oven again, pour the marinade over the top and add the onions.  Reduce the heat to 140 degrees Celcius and return the dish to the oven.  At this point the lamb will likely be too tender and ready to fall off the bone to allow you to flip it again, so you may need to baste it at the four-hour mark to make sure the top part of the leg doesn't dry out.

At the five-hour mark, turn off the oven.  If your guests are late, just leave the dish in the oven until you are ready to eat.  Otherwise, remove the lamb from the oven onto a carving board.  The flesh should simply fall away from the bone, but I helped it along by using two forks to break it up a bit into shreds.  I placed the lamb and onions on a large platter which had a little lip and then poured a few spoonfuls of the sauce from the pot over the meat.

While the spices don't overpower the lamb, they do help elevate this dish well above the average Sunday roast and the tenderness of the meat was all down to the 24 hours of marinating and the long cooking time.

Most of my guests enjoyed the dish with a nice cabernet sauvignon, but as a white drinker, I sipped a glass of Lark Hill riesling with mine, purchased last week on the Canberra District Wine Challenge.  The Challenge went on hold this long-weekend, with Jess, Matt and Tanya all out of action, but hopefully we'll be back at the cellar doors of the district next weekend!