Fresh fig, Parma ham, and Rocket salad with Cabernet Sauvignon reduction

It's a scorching hot day. The kind where you'd rather not do anything, cause moving translates into sweating, unless it's in the direction of the pool or the sea.

Guests flew in from blustery England this morning. I could think of no better February salad than this one to welcome them in:

Fresh Fig, Parma ham and Rocket salad with Cabernet Sauvignon reduction

I was planning on going with the old goat's cheese standard, but this submission on my new fave Drizzle and dip blog, which credits Jamie Oliver, gave me the idea to use mozzarella instead. I love mozzarella. I think mostly because it's a word with two 'z's and two 'l's. Which ups it's dialogue cred and also makes it sound sultry in an Italian- only kind of way. If you can't get hold of a sufficiently sultry mozz, I recommend a nice Chevin (not the same sex appeal, really but you can't have it all)

Pan- fried Silverfish with Radish, Sweet Pea and Mint salad

When you live in a small town you might have the pleasure of running into several friends at the Saturday morning market. Many of whom you saw last night at a quirky, tasty poetry reading; where Cafe D'vine gave out gorgeous lemon poppy seed cupcakes; and where you were moved by the generosity of people sharing their intimate favourites, their inside jokes, their stories of heartbreak and heartshare and taking a dump in the veld.

When you live in a small town you jump up and dance when you find out (and I am pleased to announce) that Lungi and Ingram’s fresh vegatable stall is expanding to a permanent shop in Peppergrove centre. Their sweet peas have been called ‘a miracle of life’ (McDougall:2011).

Produce from Lungi and Ingram's fresh vegetable stall

When you live in a small town you might end up standing at the great cheese stall in awe and excitement. But you’re a student on a student budget and so you ask the man to please cut you a R12 (about £1) piece of cumin cheese. He puts a thin slice on the scale and announces the price: R21. You cringe and say sorry, I really only have R12 on me. Then the woman beside you tells the man to wrap up the cheese, “you can’t have that little cheese” she says, and pays the difference.

Happy Roast Poussin Salad

I've been trying to make yummy chicken salad all season. Thighs and breasts have been grilled and fried, some marinaded and some sauced up at the last. Different leaves tossed in different dressings with different herbs, spices and salad things. I've never got it smack- perfect. 

Until today, I think. Because simplicity is key. And I think that maybe a chicken is happier when its whole than when its been hacked apart. What is it that they always say on free- range and organic advertising? A happy chicken is a tasty chicken. 

Roast Poussin salad

A very lovely lunch for two- Double up and use a grown- up poussin if you like

• 1 poussin ( baby chicky) Free range now for sale at Fruit and Veg City at reasonable prices
• 15ml olive oil, or erm.. truffle oil. (I'll explain later) 

Watermelon, Feta and Pomegranate salad

This summer salad just screams: " Eat me now!" If you don't have a sweet and firm watermelon though, don't bother.

Watermelon, feta and pomegranate salad with balsamic dressing

For the salad:

• ¼ big watermelon, sliced in triangles and pips removed ( what a treat)
• 50g good quality feta, sliced
• ½ pomegranate
• Handful of mint, chiffonaded ( rolled up and thinly sliced)  
• 40g rocket
• 3 radishes, thinly sliced
• Maldon salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the dressing:

• 35 ml good balsamic vinegar
• 5ml Dijon mustard
• 60ml extra virgin olive oil
• Salt and pepper

1. Here’s the easy way to get pips out of a pomegranate: slice it in half vertically and remove as much of the white membrane as you can see. Now turn it upside down in your hand, with the fleshy side facing your cupped palm. Now tap it sharply with the back of a heavy knife or a good wooden spoon. The pips will fall out into your palm. You might have to stop every now and then to remove a little more membrane.
2. Arrange the watermelon on a platter and sprinkle with the pomegranate seeds, radish slices and mint. Top with rocket ( dress it in a little olive oil first)
3. Sprinkle Maldon salt over a give a good grind of black pepper.
4. For the dressing, whisk together the balsamic vinegar and mustard then gradually add the olive oil. Season to taste and drizzle a little over the salad, serving the remainder on the side. 

Summer you beauty

View from the cliff path

Summer days like these are for bikinis and dresses and shorts. For large hats and the smell of sunscreen. For soft serve ice- cream and cold beers.  For sitting on my favourite bench on the cliff path and watching the fishermen. And for crunchy Chicken salad.

My crunchy Chicken salad

Serves four

Vinaigrette:

• 7ml wholegrain mustard
• Juice of ½ lemon
• 10ml clear honey
• 150ml olive oil
• Salt and pepper

Salad:

• 400g skinless chicken breast fillets ( free range, happy(ier) chickens taste nicer)
• Juice of ½ lemon
• 30ml olive oil
• small bunch of dill, chopped
• Salt and pepper
• ½ cucumber, cut into big dice
• 250g ripe cherry tomatoes, halved
• 1 carrot, peeled, halved lengthwise and sliced
• 200g mange toute, sliced
• 100g fine green beans, blanched and cut in 2cm pieces
• 100g asparagus, blanched and cut into 2 cm strips
• 50- 80g feta cheese, crumbled or sliced
• 100g rocket, or cos lettuce (or both) dressed with a little olive oil
• Maldon salt and black pepper

Grill those little chicks. 

1. Whisk together the mustard, lemon juice and honey. Add the olive oil in a steady stream while whisking continuously. Season with salt and pepper.
2. Season the chicken breasts and marinade in mixture of lemon juice, olive oil and dill for thirty minutes.
3. Heat up a grill pan until smoking hot and grill the fillets on each side for a minute or two, to make those pretty lines. Usually, colour is flavour.
4. Pour a little of the dressing over the chicken, and place in a 180 C oven for 6 minutes.
5. Allow to cool. Combine with other ingredients and season with Maldon salt and black pepper. Serve remaining dressing alongside. 

words cannot describe yesterday, today

Prawn, asparagus, mascarpone tarts

Frozen lemon meringue cake

Christmas Mince Pies

Devil- red macaroons

Oysters with vodka, cucumber and mint jelly.

Christmas Eve Croquembouche

The Crayfish Waggle

The moment you spend a bit of time with something or someone, you inevitably start to form a bit of a bond with it/him/her.

I go to pick up 6 critters from 'the crayfish family' on the other side of town. Of course, today is the day I decide to drive my own car (and not Mrs X’s staff station wagon). Of course, today is the day that the crayfish lady decides to ask me for a lift down the road; with a bulging, holey packet that bleeds crayfish juice all over her lap, and trickles the pungent liquid down onto my freshly cleaned seats.

I drive home. I keep an eye on that white packet on the passenger seat floor. The packet waggles. I imagine it bursting open, red beasts escaping and crawling all over my car. We make it home in one piece. Shoo.

                                  

I get a large pot on the stove and pour some beer and rooibos tea in the bottom. I put my hands in a pair of heavy- duty yellow gloves (I’m rather allergic to crustaceans) and cringe while I open the packet. They are still waggling. One by one I grip them with the tongs, while their tails clap and their legs claw the air, and submerge them in the pot, shuddering.  I can’t bear to hold the lid down while they scratch the sides to death.

I call on the butler (we’ll call him ‘Niles’) to hold the lid down firmly. Niles obliges, laughing. Their little antennae are poking out of the pot. He chuckles and says that the crayfish are waving goodbye.

As a carnivore and meat lover, I’m all for acknowledging the animal you kill for consumption. I like to think I could look a lamb in the face. I like to think I’m a little less naïve than those who think chickens come cling- wrapped in polystyrene trays.

But I don’t really dig watching a crayfish’s eyes glazing over as he slips into a rooibos- induced coma.

I must mention at this point that the first time that I ever I touched crayfish my tongue started to itch and swell, filling my mouth. My hands blossomed a prickly pink rash that spread quickly and lasted for hours.

All six souls died for a good cause, however. A recipe for Lobster salad with warm-rooibos-gooseberry-and-wasabi- butter that I found in the Woolworths Taste Magazine has always intrigued me. I like the marriage of colours: Green, white, orange. It’s a subtle dish that doesn't try too hard. I made it as part of a kind of 'surf and turf' main course, alongside salt- crusted fillet with caramel fish sauce and a light lime- juice dressed raw coleslaw.

By the time I finished this dish; tasted the perfect butter sauce, and gave some thought to the delicate flavours, I was ready to slip a piece of my old travelling companion, my glossy eyed red shelled victim, into my mouth. It slipped down like silk.

Yes (if you are wondering), my tongue itches. One of my fingers is a little red where a claw punctured my glove, and I had to get Niles to dispose of the gleaming red corpses. But my guilt has certainly subsided. 

The crayfish waggle is actually nothing more that cute.

Crayfish salad with warm Rooibos-Gooseberry-and Wasabi butter sauce

Serves 5 as a starter, or as a main course alongside a hearty steak

Adapted from Woolworths Taste Magazine, October 2007 page 17

• 6 legally sized, legally sourced fresh crayfish 
• 60ml rooibos tea sticks, or 10 sachets best- quality rooibos, opened
• 2 beers ( I'm an Amstel fan, but whatever floats your boat)
• 2 avocados, ripe but firm, cut into 0.5cm lengths and sprinkled with
• the juice of 1 lemon
• 400g tenderstem broccoli
• 2 handfuls fresh basil
• 200g gooseberries
• 10ml extra virgin olive oil
• maldon salt

For the sauce: 

• 130g butter, clarified is preferable
• 30ml rooibos sticks or 5 top- qualitiy rooibags, opened
• 5ml wasabi sauce, or 3 ml wasabi paste
• 50ml balsamic reduction*
• 15ml honey
• salt

1. Place a stock pot on the stove with a round trivet inside (I use one that used to be in an old microwave). Pour in the beers and tea sticks and bring to a boil, lid on.
2. Knuckle down, get a hold of those critters with a pair of tongs and settle them onto that trivet. Shove the lid on, ignore the waving antennae and hold into down until silence ensues. Time about six minutes from the moment of silence, or wait until the bad boys are bright red. 
3. In a basin, rip the heads off (grrrr) and slit the tail down the centre. Maneuver the flesh out, keeping the tail in tact. Slit down the centre of the flesh, and remove the entails. Set aside. 
4. Blanch the tenderstem broccoli until just tender and plunge into ice water to refresh. 
5. Halve all the gooseberries for the salad. 
6. For the sauce: Bring the rooibos sticks or bag contents to boil with 200ml water and boil until about 30ml remains. Melt the butter in the saucepan and strain in the rooibos mixture, along with the wasabi paste, balsamic reduction, honey and half of the gooseberries. Whisk well, and keep on low heat until ready to serve. 
7. To serve, you can heat up the crayfish tails a little in the same steam- contraption, or leave them cold. Drizzle with olive oil to moisten, and season with maldon salt. On a platter, arrange the broccoli and avocado slices, scatter the basil leaves and top with the crayfish tails (cut them in half if you like) and the remaining gooseberries. Drizzle with a touch of olive oil and some of the butter sauce. Serve the rest in a sauce boat. Real suave. 

*Balsamic reduction is as easy as buying a bottle of balsamic vinegar, and reducing it on a hot stove until drizzling consistency. Test by putting a splodge on a plate in the freezer for a minute. Easy, now. It over- reduces easily. At least one high- end chef I know of cheats by adding sugar. Most foodies I know cheat by buying a bottle from the supermarket. Life is complicated enough as it is, I reckon.