This year I’d decided to tackle the fraught-with-danger-and-potential-food-poisoning art of preserving jam. Armed with a newfound appreciation for proper sterilisation and the world’s largest stockpot, I set about whipping up my first ever batch of jam for both my and Chadwiko’s mother. For a first effort, I was pretty pleased with the results. And even better, I’d managed to seal the jars perfectly- or would have, had Australia Post not taken it upon themselves to get my carefully bubble-wrapped packages to Adelaide by seemingly hurling them there from Canberra.

In the interest less of rubbing in what my mum may be missing and more in whetting appetites for future (hand-delivered) batches of jam, here’s the recipe!

Mothers Day jam

Raspberry, rhubarb and vanilla bean jam

(Adapted from David Lebowitz)

Ingredients: 

• 1 700g bunch of fresh rhubarb
• 1 cup frozen raspberries (or fresh, if the price is right!)
• 1/2 cup apple juice
• 2 1/2 cups sugar
• Juice and zest of one lemon
• 1 vanilla bean, scraped
• 1/2 teaspoon salt

1. In a large pot, mix together the rhubarb, raspberries, and apple juice. Cover and cook, stirring frequently over moderate heat, until the rhubarb is cooked through (about 15 minutes).

2. Add the sugar, lemon juice, lemon zest, vanilla bean scrapings and salt, and cook uncovered, skimming off any foam that rises to the surface, until the jam is thick. To test that the jam has jelled, place a small spoonful of jam onto a cold plate. Pop it in the freezer, and a few minutes later give it a poke. If the jam wrinkles, it’s done. If it’s still a liquid, it needs a little more time.

You can also use a candy thermometer to bring the jam to 104 degrees Celsius (I found the wrinkle test accurate enough, and far less fussy).

3. Ladle the jam into hot, sterilised jars and seal according to your preferred method. I boiled the jars in the aforementioned giant stockpot, which worked just fine. If you’re going to use the jam straight away, you can skip the sealing and keep the jam in the fridge.

This made enough for two fairly large jars that would keep two mums in jam for the next little while.

So, happy mothers day, Mum! Thanks for all you do. Thanks for always encouraging us to eat adventurously, thanks for teaching me that food made from scratch always tastes better, and thanks for making your bratkartoffeln vegan so we don’t have to miss out.

She's a good sort

Over my years of watching Masterchef, my eager anticipation of a vegan contestant or even challenge has succumbed to reality. It’s not coming. But why should that mean that vegans miss out on all the fun? So this year I’m taking it upon myself to mix up and veganise one recipe from the show each week.

First up is this fig frangipane tart with pistachio crumble from judge Gary Mehigan’s Masterclass last week. Despite Chadwiko’s insistence that I attempt the roasted beef fillet with pommes dauphine (from what I gathered, pommes dauphine is fancy-talk for tater tots) featured in the same episode, I thought that this seemed a little more achievable for my first attempt.

And achievable it was! Despite looking like an insanely lengthy recipe, this comes together pretty quickly with some good time management (I might even use this as an ‘organisational skills’ example in my next job interview). Since pistachio paste is a mythical ingredient in Australia, I made my own, and did this the night before. I was able to put together the tart shell when I got home from work and whip up the crumble while it baked, and make the frangipane filling and assemble the whole thing after throwing together a quick dinner (vegan sausage rolls, so Chadwiko wouldn’t be burdened with cutlery while excitedly playing Diablo 3).

So, does it live up to the Masterchef reputation? It’s a bit sweeter than I usually prefer my desserts, but I love the pistachio paste in this so much that I can’t complain too much. I can’t wait to bake with the copious leftovers. This tart also makes up for its excess sugar by being super pretty (that green crumble! The cool-looking figs buried under there!). I would definitely make this again, playing around with different fruit combinations- and cutting out a little sugar, of course.

On to the (veganised) recipe!

Fig Frangipane Tart with Pistachio Crumble

(Adapted from Masterchef)

Ingredients: 

• 125g peeled pistachios
• 62g caster sugar
• 1-1/2 teaspoons agave

Sweet shortcrust pastry

• 120g vegan margarine
• 30g icing sugar
• Pinch of salt
• 240g plain flour
• 3 tablespoons almond milk

• 1/3 cup peeled pistachios
• 40g caster sugar
• 40g plain flour
• 30g chilled vegan margarine

• 120g vegan margarine
• 120g caster sugar
• 1/3 cup almond milk
• 2 tablespoons cornstarch
• 1 teaspoon almond extract (optional- I left it out because I hate almond extract, but I know others would consider it a must!)
• Finely grated zest of 1 lemon
• 120g ground almonds
• 40g plain flour
• 2 tablespoons pistachio paste
• 3 fresh figs, cut into 8 wedges each
• 1/4 cup agave (optional)

For the Shortcrust Pastry:

Look, we didn’t mean to leave without saying goodbye. But life got in the way of things. Work, work, work- and then, a well-earned holiday! But after five weeks gallivanting about Europe and Morocco (and a week of settling into the crushing reality of home), we’re back online.

There’s a lot to catch up on- some great tester recipes for both Isa and Terry, and of course a metric fork-tonne of photos of some amazing European vegan treats. But for now, here’s a quick photo of one of the first things I cooked when we got home. After all, what better to celebrate being ‘back’ with than the one thing whose return seemingly causes heart palpitations in omnivores?

Vegan McRib with baked sweet potato fries

That’s right, the McRib is back! And by back I mean in my kitchen for the first time.

After Hank and presumably myself, Chadwiko has two great loves in his life- American football, and this seitan rib recipe (also featured in Vegan Diner). While watching the ads for American fast foods between touchdowns and ‘tight ends’ and whatnot, he put two and two together- a vegan McRib had to be made.

He showed me pictures of the meaty monstrosity and I wasn’t exactly sold. But he eventually wore down my resolve, and the above happened. Barbecued seitan ribs, smothered in barbecue sauce, topped with pickles and caramelised onions in a toasted bun. It was less awful than I had expected. But it was still a lot of meatiness- enough that I got halfway through one before falling back on the couch, exhausted, full and clutching at my clogged arteries. Chadwiko declared it a success.

Whether or not the McRib will remain in our recipe rotation remains to be seen (and depends on how much someone bugs me for one). But one thing is for sure, we’re back online and we’re here to stay!

Massaman curry with lemongrass lime rice

A massaman curry better than my previously-beloved one from the Lao-Thai place near our house.

Sri Lankan whole cashew curry and red pepper tofu curry

Sri Lankan food is one of our favourite cuisines, and I’m all about this whole cashew curry at the moment.

Avgolemono

Greek village salad with cashew feta

Creamy lemon rice soup and a clever substitute for marinated feta!

Roasted gnocchi with roasted tomato caper sauce

I’m roasting all my gnocchi from now on.

Basmati coconut pilaf with ginger tomato chickpeas

Sweet potato-stuffed paratha

My favourite food stuffed inside one of my other favourite foods? Yes please!

Testing (and eating) is tough, but I guess someone has to do it.

It would seem that all good things must come to an end. Today is the last day of Vegan MoFo, and while I’m sad to see the end of so many great posts from around the world every day, I’m also looking forward to relaxing for the next few nights. I must have communicated my need for relaxation to Chadwiko with some enthusiasm, because I came home today to find him giving the kitchen a much needed deep-clean, so that I wouldn’t have to do it myself tomorrow. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the end of MoFo!

I had intended to finish off our street food world tour with a stop in Venezuela for arepas, but it wasn’t to be, as the masarepa flour that I’d ordered online still hasn’t turned up. I was a little disappointed and wasn’t sure what to do- enter Chadwiko to save the day, with the suggestion that where better to end our tour than home? There was only one street food that I could make.

Our hometown, Adelaide, is well-known for one laughable, and honestly fairly nauseating street food- the pie floater. A pie floater is a meat pie in a bowl of thick pea soup, smothered in tomato sauce (ketchup for the Americans). And no, it’s not intended to be eaten while sober. Although Anthony Bourdain loves them (or so says Wikipedia), the thought of eating one was never something that I’d seriously entertained. Until now.

Pie floater

For the pies, I used the recipe for rustic tempeh and spinach pie from 500 Vegan Recipes, and made three mini pies instead of one full-sized one. It’s an interesting recipe, with orange juice and zest in the filling. The recipe also originally called for orange marmalade, but I chose to omit it- a good choice for my tastes, as any more orange would have been overpowering. I also cheated and used store-bought puff pastry because it’s a Monday night and I’m tired, okay? The verdict? Good pie! I’d like to make these a bit smaller next time, as the pastry is the best bit and pastry-to-filling ratios are very serious business.

The pea soup was an accidentally vegan recipe I came across online- essentially just peas, potato and spinach cooked and blended together. I can’t vouch for whether or not this was good because I hate peas with a burning passion and it was always going to taste awful to me. But despite the sludge-like appearance, Chadwiko seemed to enjoy it.

So we’ve been around the world, and ended up at home. It’s been a great month, and my thanks go out to everyone on Team MoFo, as well as everyone who’s stopped by here to say hi or just to look around. That’s it from me for now, see you in a few days- after I’ve enjoyed a nice dinner cooked outside of my kitchen, and by someone other than me. What luxury!

I’m of the belief that everyone, no matter how good a cook they may be, has one culinary nemesis. One thing that, by all logic, they should be able to cook without a problem- but can’t. Mine is pancakes. That’s right, something that small children can make with ease is something that foils me almost every time. With this in mind, it was probably never a great idea that I attempt crepes tonight.

But crepes are becoming a more and more common street food. They’re popular in Japan, and last time I was home in Adelaide I noticed that a crepe shopfront had opened in the city. But I chose to go the traditional route, paying homage to the home of crepes, France.

Crepes

Two of the most popular fillings for French crepes are fruit and nutella. With this in mind, I decided to whip up two different types- one filled with vegan mascarpone and cinnamon baked apples, and the other with chocolate mascarpone and hazelnuts. However, there was one flaw in my plan- two types of filling really aren’t necessary when your crepe-making skills leave you with very few intact crepes to actually fill.

I used the recipe from Vegan Brunch. The majority of the crepes that I attempted tore into pieces when I tried to flip them. Chadwiko stepped in to help/stop me from breaking something out of sheer rage, and managed to keep a few intact, but they were so thick that they weren’t quite reminiscent of the delicate real thing. But better this than nothing, right? They may not have been pretty, but the pieces didn’t taste too bad at all.

The fillings were a greater success. I used the recipe from the Urban Vegan tiramisu for the mascarpone, with rad whip instead of pre-made Soyatoo. The chocolate mascarpone was a combination of this recipe and the Sweet William chocolate spread that ‘fell’ into my trolley at the supermarket a couple of weeks ago. Chadwiko powered his way through the chocolate hazelnut crepe on this plate without stopping to breathe, let alone ask if I would like to share. I’ll take it as a compliment (but only because I had another one set aside- things could have ended badly otherwise).

So, my pancake/crepe nemesis seems to have bested me once again. I think Chadwiko can stick to weekend morning pancake duty in our house. I don’t mind being relegated to filling-maker- it’s probably for the best.

African street food isn’t something particularly well-known. I had originally hoped to put together a street food feast from the sparkly new Papa Tofu Loves Ethiopian Food zine, but alas, my copy hasn’t yet arrived- it just wasn’t meant to be. Perhaps it’s trapped on a grounded Qantas flight somewhere (I’m anticipating that it turns up on Tuesday, just after MoFo ends). Rather than do Ethiopian food an injustice by using an inferior recipe, I cast my eyes to the west of the African continent.

There, my eyes found themselves feasting on chin-chin, the west African fried cookie-like treat.

Chin-chin

Chin-chin is formed from a dough similar to a simple sugar cookie dough. But rather than being baked, the dough is deep-fried (it’s street food, after all!). I’d originally tried to fold these into more traditional knotted shapes, but while these looked great in their uncooked form, they unravelled and fell apart in the hot oil. More manageable dice were the way to go. The frying gives these a great, melt-in-your-mouth texture, similar to shortbread- but it also gives them a heaviness that meant I couldn’t eat more than a few. Chadwiko had no such problems. I left this plate unsupervised with him for a few minutes and returned to find it seemingly vacuumed of all crumbs. I choose to take it as high praise.

Terry, as always, seemed to have pre-emptively read my mind and came through with some truly impressive west African recipes among her tester list. In a bid to appear more adult and not just eat fried cookies for dinner, I tackled a couple of stand-outs.

Lemon mustard yassa seitan with jollof tomato rice

This vegan take on poulet yassa had a lot of my favourite flavours- lemon, mustard, and a lot of garlic- cooked into delicious, tender seitan. I can’t wait to make this again already. The jollof tomato rice, a one-pot staple dish of baked rice with tomato, thyme and garlic, was also great and the perfect way to get Chadwiko to eat brown rice without complaint.

Ethiopian food is becoming more and more popular by the second- but with dishes like these, it’s surely only a matter of time before vegans (and the rest of the world) are showing the same enthusiasm for west African cuisine.

For a long time, all I knew about Korean food was gogi gui- the dish typically composed of meat, meat and more meat, and grilled at the table. It’s not surprising that Korean wasn’t high on my list of favoured cuisines. But veganism is an eye-opener in more ways than one, and it led me to look further than the Korean barbecue so popular in Australia, to discover a world of new foods.

Still, Korean food isn’t something that I’ve ever really attempted at home. I knew I wanted to make a Korean street food for Vegan MoFo, but didn’t know where to start. Who better to come to my rescue than Terry? Among the tester recipes for her new (and s0 far very impressive-looking) world food book were several Korean concoctions- and as my luck would have it, the perfect example of Korean street food.

But firstly, there’s no more quintessentially Korean food than kimchi. Street food or not, no Korean meal is complete without it.

Quick cabbage kimchi

Kimchi always seemed like something too complicated and time-consuming for my liking, but Terry’s recipe is a quick one, with great results. I took the option to simulate fermentation by leaving this on the counter overnight. The flavour today was a huge improvement on yesterday’s freshly-made taste, so I can’t wait to leave the unused half of this jar in the fridge and try it again in a few days’ time.

The other half of the jar, however, has destiny to fulfil elsewhere- in kimchi manju dumplings.

Kimchi manju dumplings

I can’t say no to dumplings in any form. They’re the perfect street food. And these ones, stuffed with kimchi and tofu, don’t disappoint. Chadwiko, who had never eaten kimchi and was sceptical of my claims as to its deliciousness, adored these and polished off more than his fair share. But that’s okay- I had also whipped up a batch of sesame bean sprouts (yet another tester recipe for Terry). My not-so-inner hippie loves bean sprouts, so I was content.

So, my first real foray into Korean cooking was a success! I can say with confidence that this won’t be the last time Korean food makes an appearance in our kitchen… and that’s not just due to the giant bag of gochugaru sitting on the floor of my pantry. I’m sure it’ll also be in part due to Chadwiko’s demands for more dumplings.

While Chadwiko undoubtedly loves street food from all around the world, these’s one dish that he near-constantly requests at home- jerk seitan. I can’t blame him. Jamaican jerk seasoning is unlike anything else, spicy and smoky and absolutely delicious. Jerk seitan was a natural choice for a MoFo meal (a natural choice if I wanted to avoid the tantrums associated with a missed opportunity to make the stuff, that is).

Jerk seitan and Jamaican johnnycakes

I used my usual recipe for jerk seitan, from Vegan with a Vengeance. It’s not entirely authentic, but it sure is delicious, and until it’s warm enough to grow my coveted Scotch bonnet chillies here, this comparatively less-spicy version suits us just fine.

The accompanying Jamaican johnnycakes, however, were something new to us. The recipe comes from Caribbean Vegan, of course, where it’s given the alternative name ‘Saint Lucian bakes’. From what I’ve seen, however, the word ‘baked’ seems to be missing from the Jamaican dictionary (references to the effects of certain natural substances aside, that is), because these are anything but baked. In fact, they’re the opposite- fried in a couple of centimetres of oil. The fact that these are perhaps the world’s least healthy version of English muffins aside, these are fabulous. Moist, dense and hearty, they’re a natural street-corner choice to deal with hunger pains.

Now to just make my way to the Caribbean somehow. I can’t think of a better way to work up an appetite.

I scored myself a bargain the other day. Perusing the kitchen appliance aisle of Kmart with the intention of purchasing either a deep-fryer or a ‘health grill’ (it was a toss-up between these, due to the clear similarities between the two), I spotted it. Buried deep in that section filled with novelty appliances that no one in their right mind actually needs- a poffertje maker. I’d been thinking of making poffertjes- the baby pancakes so popular on the streets of the Netherlands- during MoFo, but the only poffertje pan I had come across was cast iron and $30. Thoughts of tiny pancakes dancing through my head, I grabbed the giant box and lugged it to the nearest price check station. $12. It was a done deal.

(Interestingly enough, the poffertje maker is only the second most useless appliance we own. The first being the Shrek hotdog maker that belonged to our old housemate and somehow ended up in our boxes when we moved to Canberra, despite neither of us wanting it.)

Tonight it was time for the poffertje maker to prove my $12 to be a wise investment. The makers had clearly cut costs when making the instructions (which actually read ’1: turn on machine. 2: put food you want to cook on the hot part. 3: take the food off the hot part when it is cooked’), so surely the savings were put towards the high quality machine itself.

Poffertjes with speculoos syrup

And what do you know, it worked pretty well!

I used a ‘traditional’ yeasted poffertje recipe that I came across online, which turned out to be a bit of a mess and required a lot of fiddling with. They ended up just tasting like (tiny, adorable) pancakes anyway, so a regular pancake batter would probably do the job just fine.

The real excitement here, though, is the syrup accompanying the poffertjes. The internet recommended maple syrup, but that’s a little boring, and just not that Dutch. But what’s more Dutch than speculoos (windmill) cookies? Enter the hero of vegans worldwide, Biscoff spread- the spread made from cookies. It’s every bit as glorious as its sounds, and as discovered tonight, when mixed with maple syrup it becomes a magical topping for poffertjes. There was no real recipe here- just the speculoos spread combined with maple syrup (I was a little more generous with the speculoos than the maple syrup, due to deliciousness), warmed through and with the Dickens stirred out of it.

Magic! And the whole thing was well worth the $12… just maybe not the potential house fires that my high-quality poffertje maker may cause.