Steak and Kumera Pie

I love a good pie. The hardest part, I reckon, is getting the filling to just the right consistency without making it taste too floury, or sugary. What to do, what to do? Again, I could have gone surfing for ideas or a recipe, but as usual, I eschewed the abundance of knowledge and experience that lies at the fringes of the bandwidth and went the non-google way: I opened the cupboard instead.

I had everything out to make a steak and cheese pie, and I was poking my head into our baking cupboard to decide what I could use for a thickener, when what did I see but one trusty kumera (sweet potato to my non-kiwi readers).

Purple, knobbly inspiration.

During the 2 hours that the filling simmers on the stove, the kumera breaks down, leaving its natural sweetness in the meat, while its natural vegetable starch gives the filling body and texture without tasting starchy. Natural thickener. Genius.

Beef & Kumera Pie

(serves 4-6)
In a large pan, heat 2-3T of rice bran or olive oil. Fry up 1 chopped onion and 2 finely chopped cloves of garlic. When they have softened, add 400g of diced blade steak to the pan, 1 roughly peeled and chopped kumera, freshly ground salt and pepper, 1 t carraway seeds, 1 T paprika, 1 t mustard powder (more if you like a bit more bite), and about 3T of worcester sauce.

Cook on rapid heat for 6 mins, then add 1C of beef stock and simmer gently for 2 hours.
While the filling is simmering, roll out the pastry (yes, we let the supermarket freezer make ours) and place in a greased piedish, about 28cm round. When the stew is done, dish into the pastry. Spread a layer of grated cheese over the top of the meat. We used edam and parmesan, but any good tasty cheese will do. Place the pie crust on top of the meat and press down around the edges with a fork, like so. glaze with milk, and pierce all over with the fork. Bake for 40 mins at 190C, preferably with the grill on very lightly to brown the top. For the sake of being traditional, serve with peas, carrots and tomato sauce.

Pasta Carbonara

When you start asking people how they cook a carbonara, they get all vague and unhelpful. I have asked myself, accordingly, is this because everyone has their own secret recipe for carbonara, passed down from generation to generation by blood oath of silence, or do people just not know? Is the true shame of it that most people's carbonara comes from a jar?

I'll be honest with you: I don't have a secret recipe. I don't have a recipe full stop. I just know that I like a good carbonara, I know how they should taste, and so I went ahead and made one. I didn't even go surfing for clues. I just started cooking.

The results were... carbonara-y. Certainly very tasty. If I was served it up as a carbonara in a flash restaurant I might be a bit unimpressed, but if it was a cheap pasta place I'd be stoked. And anyway, I can't afford to go to flash restaurants, so the point is moot. I can cook as well as the places I can afford to go out to, and that must be something, right?

Best of all, this took about 15 minutes, so its brilliant for a week night to feed the family in a hurry.

Pasta Carbonara

(Serves 4)

Grease a pan with the rind cut from 4 rashers of bacon. Put the bacon fat on the edge of the pan, so that it continues to spread over the pan during the cooking process.

Break up 1 piece of stale bread and fry in the bacon fat. When the bread is starting to crisp, as 1 finely chopped onion and 2 finely chopped cloves of NZ garlic. Soften until almost starting to brown, then remove everything but the fat from the pan.

Regrease the pan with the bacon fat and bring to a high heat. Fry the 4 rashers of bacon, chopped into 1cm square pieces. When the bacon is cooked and starting to brown, remove the fat from the pan and add the onion/garlic/bread back in.

Add 1 1/2 chopped tomatoes to the pan. Reduce rapidly. Add a squeeze of BBQ sauce and mix everything thoroughly to heat through.
Meanwhile, boil up a pot of pasta and make a standard quantity of alfredo sauce. Mix the pasta, alfredo and bacon together, and serve with fresh steamed veges.

Don't Be A Rodney, John Key!

After much hard slog, Morgue has put together the "Don't Be A Rodney" campaign.

I urge everyone who lives in NZ to take action, and write a letter. Did we mention that postage to Parliament is free?

Don't Be A Rodney

For those of you not in NZ, send John Key an email. An international voice is needed as much as our own local efforts, to let the Government know that we cannot afford not to take action on climate change.

Don't Be A Rodney

Join the Facebook group, email this to everyone you know, post it on your blog. Whatever you can do, do. Spread the word, and most importantly, write a letter. It's as easy as it sounds.

Send a message to John Key - tell him not to be a Rodney on climate change!

On Tuesday 18 November, Barack Obama said it was time to confront
climate change.
"Delay is no longer an option. Denial is no longer an acceptable
response. The stakes
are too high. The consequences, too serious."

But here in NZ, delay and denial is what we get. National has given
ACT their heart's
desire, a select committee process that will stall our response to
climate change.
This is embarrassing - and also financially dangerous! We've signed up
to Kyoto and
we have financial obligations that are getting bigger all the time!

The good news: it isn't too late. John Key can still get us back on track.
We just need to let him know that's what he should do.

So send him a letter. It's easy, and free - you don't need to stamp a
letter to Parliament!
Speak up for the 96% of NZ who didn't vote for Rodney.
Tell John Key to get moving on climate change.

Get more information here: http://dontbearodney.blogspot.com/

----

In your letter, ask for these things:

* Ask for the select committee to be a large one, not a small one!
* Ask for the "review of the science" to get the chop!
* Ask for a narrow focus to the committee business!

These three simple points will mean the select committee will get sorted
sooner and we can start chasing after our friends in Australia and the U.S.
who are way ahead of us on climate change.
There's more information on all of these points at
http://dontbearodney.blogspot.com/

Finally, here's a letter template you can cut and paste. It's easy!
And did I mention that postage to Parliament is free?

----
Rt Hon John Key
Prime Minister
Executive Wing
Parliament Buildings

Dear Prime Minister

** 1. Tell him why you are writing** [e.g. " I am writing to ask you
to show some leadership on climate change" or "I am concerned about
your direction on climate change or I am writing to you about climate
change"]

** 2. Explain in a bit more detail** [e.g. "I've read that as part of
your agreement with the Act party there will be a review of climate
change, and that this will include a review of the science on whether
climate change exists. I am concerned about this because..."]

** 3. Explain what action you'd like him to take and how this would
help ** [e.g. "I think it would be a good idea if you made sure that a
review of the science was not included as part of the role of the
Select Committee. Taking this off the agenda would help NZ maintain
credibility with the rest of the developed world."]

** 4. Maybe add a short personal note ** [e.g. "My family and I saw
you at the Taupo markets when you were out campaigning and I'd like to
congratulate you on winning the election"]

** 5. Thank him for his time! ** [e.g. "Thank you for taking the time
to consider my concerns. I look forward to hearing from you."]

Yours,

** YOUR NAME GOES HERE! **

----

Simple! So forward this around to people who aren't Rodney Hide.
Let's get a message to John Key - don't be a Rodney. Be like Barack!

http://dontbearodney.blogspot.com/
http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=37044684218

Guilty of Poaching

I've got a lot going on right now, so the blogging has been a bit thin. Besides all the busy-ness of family life and work, I've been making good on my commitment to write something creative every day (at least 12 sentences, thanks Jane), gearing up for shooting the first instalment in a webTV series, working with Morgue on a campaign to put pressure on John Key to keep the ETS in place, redrafting the obituary for Hugh Cook (the Herald didn't run it this Saturday, but they hope to this weekend - how inconsiderate, those local notaries passing away at a time like that!), and on the weekend I finally got out in the garden and put down some onions, potatoes and pumpkins. To be honest, some of the pumpkins are self-sown, as well as one potato plant I found amongst the weeds, and among those are a number of self-sown tomato plants as well. Pictures will follow at some stage, I promise.

But I won't complain. Now I just have to stay on top of the weeding and watering duties. Meanwhile, out the front, the herbs are going wild and we have a single brocolli that survived the ravages of the neighbourhood cats, one strawberry plant, and a few cultivated tomato seedlings. Looking good for the summer season.

Anyway, I got a call on the weekend from Uncle H asking how to poach an egg. Apparently Uncle H never used to like poached eggs, but since working on the boat and being fed catered meals for two weeks at a time, he has acquired the taste. And it just so happened that I had very recently made myself poached eggs for breakfast in anticipation of posting here (Dessert Chef doesn't seem to like them - why not is beyond me), and I had also been listening to a chap on Radio NZ describing how best to poach an egg, so I guess this post was inevitable.

As it turns out Uncle H and Liz E. Bear were missing the key ingredient required to make this dish a success: Vinegar. And as it also turns out, my wild suggestion to substitute the vinegar with wine was also ill-advised. Not to worry. They weren't my eggs.

The chap on the radio seemed to think this was best done in a deep pot, so I must try that one day.

Normally, I poach my eggs in a pan. Get the water rapidly simmering, add a generous pinch of salt and about 2T of vinegar; I tend to use balsamic, but white, brown or even cider are OK, as is red wine vinegar. If you're not sure, just use 1T the first time you make it.
Next, crack in your nice fresh free range eggs and put down your bread in the toaster. Keep the heat under the pan at a constant level, maintaining that simmer, and by the time your toast is popped and buttered, the eggs will be done. Drain the water and scoop onto your toast, dressing with freshly ground black pepper and a little salt.

Lamb Steak

I know I keep going on about this, but I did the maths and it still works out that buying this delicious free range lamb from the market on the weekend is better financially than getting it from a mass supplier like a supermarket. How can that be?

Well, here's the thing: shortening of the supply chain. In a world where we have been brought up to believe that efficiencies lie in the mass consumer market, we conclude that small operators without huge buying power simply cannot participate in a competitive marketplace driven by the megasuppliers. But as we enter tighter economic times, it is these monopolistic leviathans that feel the pinch as they try to keep their swollen infrastructure costs under control.

Maintaining a supply chain even for a country as small as New Zealand must be a huge logistical challenge with a multitude of costs at every level. Incoming expenses from vendors supplying the big stores go up as everyone feels the bite of rising fuel costs. As this happens, there are only a few ways to recover those costs: Either increase the cost of the product, or reduce expenditure within the business framework. Both of these can be a painful blow to a mass producer/retailer.

With a small operation, those pains are still felt, but not quite as often. When you buy from a grower-seller, the product you're eating has been provided down a very short supply chain indeed: Grow the product, harvest it, package it, store it, transport it to market, sell it. No warehousing, no freezing costs, no overflow, no returns written off as bad debt (and thus wasted as food), no huge promotional overheads to meet.
These three lamb steaks cost me $4.00. In the supermarket the equivalent quantity would be worth about $7.00. So for once, a premium gourmet product can be found for almost half the price of a mass consumer equivalent in the supermarket. That seems to me to be something worth shouting out about. I've gone on enough about cooking and eating this lamb. That's not to say I won't do so again in the future (I have knuckles in the fridge right now!), but I won't bore you with the details of how I did these lovely steaks, other than to say that the garlic was just on the side of the pan, infusing the oil as the meat cooked to add a subtle fragrance to the lamb and fresh herbs.

Resolve

I have found fresh resolve.

I read a blog post today by Jane Lindskold (on the tor.com website) which laid out for me in no uncertain terms what it is I seem to be doing wrong.

Here it is in a nutshell:

Life seems to nibble away at writing time. [...] But no matter how drawn I am to these other things, I write. When I had another full-time job, I wrote seven days a week.

And the kicker:

Remember Decision Number One: Writing Gets Priority?
By that I mean fiction writing. Not letters or grocery lists or even, as much fun as this can be, blogs.

Every good writing tip I've ever had has revolved somehow around the instruction to write something every day. But there is a fundamental difference between writing something non-fiction like this blog, and the sort of fiction that I also enjoy writing and which I aspire to in a career-like fashion. Basically, a daily post to Freshly Ground just doesn't count towards what I need to be doing in terms of writing my next fantasy novel.

On top of that, I have an awful lot of research still to do before I can nail down my agent-publisher strategy, and of course none of that counts as writing either. Sadly.

But don't despair. Freshly Ground shall continue on in the haphazard manner that it always has; I enjoy showing off my culinary skills and having a whinge about politics now and again too much to let it fall by the wayside. What I must do is resolve to not finish a day unless I have written something of a fiction nature. Either that, or to know that I've worked on revising something which I've started. Poetry too will be OK, since it bridges the divide between fiction and non.

Jane's post has reminded me of something I used to do, way back when I was still planning my first novel and before I started the second draft on the computer:

I decided to pursue fiction writing longhand. Sometimes I simply carried a folded sheet of paper in my pocket.

I have a pile of notebooks that I used to carry around in one pocket, full of story ideas, notes on my novel, short poems, concepts for plays and games, not to mention (surprisingly) recipes. I no longer carry a notebook in my pocket at all times. I have evolved to a cold and heartless diary, full of times and places and notes about things.

This changes right now.
At least a couple of years ago, I was given a small book as a gift, made of handcrafted mahaguthi paper from Nepal (thanks Nan). I've never used it, as I felt it was too beautiful a piece of work to become scuffed and smudged and marked with the passage of many pockets and bags. Now I look at it and think this is too beautiful a piece of work to languish in a cupboard. Better it be filled with broken ramblings and half-finished stories than to lie buried in the dark for another count of years.

So now I have two things: A book to write in, and a commitment to write in it. Every day.

Pineapple Chicken with Moroccan Couscous

Do you ever feel like it's really time you did something different with that plain old slow-cooker chicken?

I get that feeling all the time. It's only sometimes that I have the imagination to actually do something about it.

Slow-Cooker chicken is so easy, and so good just as it comes, that it must be hands-down one of the best family meals you can cook. I was looking in the fridge for something that might make the bird more interesting when I spotted some pineapple rings from the night before, and I was inspired.

Don't forgot to pay very close attention to hygiene if you're going to get this intimate with a chicken...

Also pictured here is my latest obsession: Couscous. With apologies to anyone who already knows the joys of couscous, this stuff has to be the best carbo alternative there is. It takes just a few minutes to cook and tastes like whatever you choose to make it taste like. I'll be throwing around heaps of suggestions for how to make this stuff a normal part of your weekly meal routine as I discover more interesting ways to deliver it to the table.

Here it's cooked with a pre-packaged Moroccon spice blend. If you have the skill and the means to prepare your own spice blends, go for it - and maybe drop us a link here to share. From everything I've ever read about making up things like garam masala or other spicy mixes, the quantities involved are usually such that we would never use it all before it goes stale. So we stick to the pre-made ones for now. Suggestions welcome!

To cook couscous, just boil an equal quantity of water (ie, 1 Cup) with 3T olive oil and 1-2 T of flavouring, remove the water from the heat, add the couscous (again, 1 Cup), allow to stand off the heat for 3 minutes, then stir through 1T of butter. Fluff up with a fork and serve. Yummy stuff.

Now, onto the main event:

Pineapple-Stuffed Chicken

(Serves 4)

Take one whole chicken of a size suitable to feed your family, and make sure it is either fresh or completely thawed.
Slice the skin of the chicken near the tail on the breast side. Carefully prise the skin away from the flesh, making sure that it remains firmly attached down the length of the breast. Gently slide in two pineapple slices cut in half lengthwise, being careful not to break the skin, as per the picture.

Halve an onion and jam it firmly into the cavity.

Toss the chicken (gently) in a large bowl with 3T Soy Sauce, 1/4C Pineapple juice (reserved from the canned slices), freshly ground salt and pepper, and 3T of flour. Place on a low rack in the slow cooker, and cook on high for 2 hours, reducing to low for a further 3 hours. And yes, after all the care you took not to split the skin, it'll split anyway. But you didn't do it. The laws of physics did.Anyway, when you try to get the chook out of the cooker, it'll just fall apart. Dish the chicken and top it with the pineapple rings and fresh diced capsicum, alongside Morrocan Couscous and fresh veges.