Cookie (Not Cheffy)

I took some of my favourite baked bolognaise around to a friend whose ill husband has lost his appetite – and he ate two helpings! She asked me to share the recipe, so I’ll reveal all below the break… . What’s nice about this sauce is that you can just scale up this recipe until it fills your biggest ovenproof container, and freeze the leftovers for quick suppers or gifts for busy friends – it survives the freezer very well. It’s also good on sandwiches for lunch the next day.

Admittedly, I saw this on a Jamie Oliver show about eight years ago and remembered it, but I think I’ve probably tweaked it quite a bit over the years. It’s garlic-free, because Arthur hates garlic, but so packed with tomatoey goodness and rosemary undertones, that you really don’t miss it. If you do, just add a clove or two to the onions.

Baking the sauce allows the tomato flavour to really develop and makes the mince nice and juicy. It’s vastly superior to a stove-top bolognaise, I think.

Baked bolognaise
Serves four

one tbls olive oil
one big onion, finely chopped
half tsp dried chili flakes
one tsp brown sugar
one tsp balsamic vinegar
65g tin of tomato paste
300g beef mince
200g pork mince
small glass red wine
two heaped tbls Ina Paarman sundried tomatoes in oil, chopped
425g tin of whole tomatoes
two smallish sprigs of fresh rosemary
salt and pepper
500g spaghetti
grated Parmesan cheese, to serve

In a pot with ovenproof handles heat up the olive oil and then add the onions and slowly sweat till translucent. (You can also cook this in a normal pot, and transfer it to an ovenproof dish later). Add the chili flakes, brown sugar and balsamic and allow to caramalise.

Add the tomato paste and cook briefly. Then add the mince in a couple of batches, to brown. Once browned, toss in the red wine and allow the alcohol to burn off, then add the chopped sundried tomatoes and tin of whole tomatoes. Stir to combine, breaking up the whole tomatoes, and season with salt and pepper.

Cut a piece of baking paper to cover the top of your ovenproof pot. Tuck a couple of springs of rosemary into the sauce and then cover with the paper, pushing down around the edges of the sauce to seal.

Put the pot into an 180°C oven and bake for an hour. Get your spaghetti boiling 10 minutes before the timer goes. Take your sauce out of the oven and carefully take off its paper lid. It’ll look quite dry on top, with orangey red bubbles of tomato sauce hinting at the juicyness underneath. Lift out the rosemary stalks, give the sauce a good sir and serve on the spaghetti, with grated cheese.

Variations:
Use mixed beef and ostrich mince, available at Pick’n'Pay, and add a few chopped rashers of bacon when frying the onions.
Add a couple of chopped anchovies near the beginning of cooking for extra savouryness.
Add a couple of grated carrots and/or courgettes to bulk up the sauce and add veggie-vites (great for picky kids).
Add chopped mushrooms for extra low fat meatiness.
Add a little bit (100g) of very nutritious chopped liver or liver paste – this doesn’t make the sauce “livery”, but gives it a silky texture after baking.

*Thanks to Catmiz for the Flckr pic.

I’ll be selling and signing copies of The Whole Food Almanac at the lovely Wild Trading Store (34 Salisbury Street [cnr Fairview Ave], Woodstock) on the morning of 6 December. Get a copy for just R120!

Come grab some brunch (Brad makes a mean free-range boerie roll) and have a browse around the shop. Wild is offering very reasonably priced Christmas hampers. The “Pantry” hamper is only R260 and includes apple and grape chutney, Bloublommetjieskloof biodynamic honey (500g), Elgin Organic 3-fruit marmalade (375ml), Khoisan organic tea (100g), Sneeuberg organic coffee (250g), Tierhoek organic jam (260ml) and Tierhoek organic jelly (125ml). These fabulous local products would make a great gift for your parents and friends (as well as being an edible introduction to this “natural and organic” stuff). Oh, and don’t forget to add the book to that delectable collection – it’s cheap as chips, as Jamie would say, and signed nogal!

I know I shouldn’t admit it, but I’ve got a few “favourite” producers in The Whole Food Almanac – people I think are doing a better-than-good job of producing quality food. Neil Jewell is one of them, not least of all because he works with meat. I think meat is one of those foods that we should think and care particularly deeply about. I do believe we need some meat in our diets (Arthur and I have both been vegetarian – me for three years and Arthur for 12) and I really enjoy a good piece of meat. But there are plenty of ethical and environmental issues to consider when choosing to consume an animal. And we actually just eat too much meat, far more than we need. I won’t really go into it all here (I’ve recently written an article on meat for Fairlady, which will be in the January issue).

Anyway, I think Neil is doing a fantastic job of treating meat like the valuable and special foodstuff that it is. Here’s my write-up of his work from The Whole Food Almanac: (more…)

It’s a week until the wedding! What with all the low-level panic (even though it’s going to be very simple), I’ve barely been able to keep absorbing the fact that… I HAVE WRITTEN A BOOK! *squeal* Pia of Mother City Living gave me a nudge and pointed out that she’d written a really lovely review of it on her site. I’m going to have to quote her on “informative, extensively researched, and well-written” on the cover of the next edition! Candice of Aspirant Locavore also wrote a really through review – full of her trademark enthusiasm, which made me all glowey.

Jesse Breytenbach, the illustrator, showed some of the drawings she did for The Whole Food Almanac on her site (including two the publisher didn’t think fitted. She’s going to sell me the salad leaves one for my kitchen – lucky author!).

To add to all of the warm, fuzzy feelings, the launch was just awesome. Packed with people and I felt like a real star (if stars burned bright red – I get very blushy when I’m over-excited). We were sponsored cheese from Dalewood Fromage, wine from Avondale and olives from Blue Sky Organics, and picked up some loaves from Jardine bakery. It was a really fitting celebration.

So, after reading all these great reviews, of course you want to buy The Whole Food Almanac. It’s really well-priced (R125), so it’ll make a good Christmas pressie too. Try Loot or Kalahari.net.

*Thanks to BookSA for the Flickr photo.

If there are two things that Arthur despises, it’s beetroot and goats cheese. You see the problem. One of the few benefits of him being away was that I could make this yummy salad for supper. I roasted three small beetroot for about 40 mins, the took them out and peeled and chunked them onto a bed of rocket, topped with about six pecan nuts and a third of a chevin log (cut in slices) and sprinkled with an orange juice vinagrette. Ah, earthy beetroot staining everything red and hairy-tasting cheese – Arthur doesn’t know what he’s been missing…

He actually would have been sad to miss another salad I made this week. It’s one of my favourite self-invented dishes, made from bits and pieces in the store cupboard and fridge one Sunday lunchtime. It’s my Red Bean, Avo and Feta Salad. Sounds good, hey? I love the texture of this salad – creamy from the avo and beans, with a crunch from the leaves and red pepper. The dressing is mouthwateringly tangy and nutty. This recipe can serve two generously or four-to-six as a side: (more…)

Last month I was in Knysna for their annual slow food festival Gastronomica. A brilliant demo by île de pain’s Markus Färbinger inspired me to write this rather breathless piece (damn, that bread was goo-ood).

Bread is one of those things in life that’s so simple that it inspires fascinated contemplation. A three-hour demo with Markus Färbinger only breaks the crust of what bread’s all about. “If you tell people it’s a basic breadmaking course no one will come, but say it’s a master class and you’re completely booked out!” laughs Markus. “But whatever you call it, there’s not more to it than this.” Flour. Water. Yeast. Salt. Work with these four things in slightly varying proportions and in different weather and kitchen conditions for years and years. There lies the mastery.

I didn’t know much to start with, and Markus really packed it in. I learned that a bakers’ macho drag race equivalent would be to aim for equal amounts of flour and water in their dough (the wetter, the better!). That salt is a yeast inhibitor (and bread is inedible without it). That it takes 72 hours to make a proper wholewheat loaf. That a rainy morning after a warm night can affect the lightness of your loaf by changing the temperature of your kitchen. That folding the dough allows the gluten to “knit”, making a sturdy, smooth dough and a light, robust bread. That pizza dough should be rolled with a dowel and always from the middle out, to give you crispy edges (yum!) That smaller breads should be baked at high temperatures (and on baking paper, as an oiled tray smokes). That France’s best bakery has their bakers working in catacombs and their top-of-the-range oven had to be cut into four pieces and lowered down a manhole before being reassembled. That the secret to a snappy crust is bubbles that go right to the very edge of the bread – so always fold and shape your loaf gently.

The whole time he was giving us tips and telling us stories, Markus (assisted by his appie* Justin) was mixing and folding dough, shaping and slashing loaves, twisting breadsticks, topping pizzas… he made about four loaves, 10 breadsticks, 8 pizzas and a dozen bialys (indented rolls filled with caramalised onions and feta). As these emerged from the ovens, he would cut them open and discuss them. And then, finally, we got to eat them. It was not only that they were beautifully made and fresh that made the breads taste so good, but the knowledge that thousands of years of thought and mastery had gone into making this simple food.

PS. Since my beloved Ixus’ tragic “blue screen of death”, I’ve been taking photos with my camera phone. Eh. A camera OR a phone, I say, but until I get a windfall (or at least ’til we’ve paid off the wedding) this will have to do.

* Cape Town builders slang for apprentice

As a newly minted food author (rah!), I’ll be at the Natural and Organic Show this weekend, doing a demo at the Conscious Cooking Corner. It’ll like being a TV chef, without the make-up, or retakes, or assistants who chop things – so just scary bright lights and the opportunity to set my sleeve alight on the gas hob in front of one hundred adoring fans sixteen people. The demo won’t really be about the recipes – the dishes are just simple illustrations of some of the stuff I’ve discussed in the book: getting creative with your veggie box, doing actual grocery shopping at markets and minimising food wastage with clever meals. Ultimately, you can’t eat healthily without cooking for yourself, and I think it’s nice for people to see that making fresh, wholesome food can be very quick and easy. I suppose, looking on the bright side, it’ll be nice to cook communally – company in the kitchen and around the dinner table make good food even more enjoyable. Maybe I should get some people to come up and chop a few things for me? Now there’s an idea…

The Natural and Organic Show is at the CTICC on the Foreshore in Cape Town from 17 – 19 October. I’ll be doing 45min demonstrations at the Conscious Cooking Corner:
Saturday 18 October at 1.30pm
Sunday 19 October at 2.30pm