Summer Entertaining {Guacamole, Mojitos, Gazpacho, and Sangria}

The cat's outa the bag now. I recently confessed to my girlfriends that my sole reason for growing mint  (besides the fact that it's the only thing which refuses to die through vast epochs of neglect) is for the mojitos. Yep, when it comes to summer drinkies, I'm a passionate imbiber.

When it was decided to kick off a bachelorette party for a dear friend at my place I immediately stopped picking all the good leaves off the mint and started stalking the shops for quality avocados.  









Guacamole and mojitos are my summer entertaining 'gimmes', and gazpacho (a chilled Spanish tomato soup) and sangria often add to the line-up - tasty and light on the tummy. Certainly fits the bill for a night of teeny dresses and tube-tops whirling on a dance floor.


Debauchery or no debauchery, these are all great do-ahead items suitable even for a quiet, sophisticated, patio gathering. You know the type, that 'respectable' get-together where one may or may not end up whirling anyways on a kitchen-cum-dance floor.

Continue to Recipes...

I Met Him in a Cherry Tree...Part 1 (& Cherry Clafoutis Recipe)

I was in a cherry tree when I heard him for the first time.

"Hey, honey! What's your name?"

My head swiveled round. This cheeky opening line had to be directed at me. I was the only girl in that row of cherries. Tall above the branches, perched on a ladder, admiring the stellar panorama that New Zealand had to offer, I had been minding my own business - trying to pick fast, fill my buckets, and make some decent money that day. 

Or, at least enough money to cover the campsite fee, some organic lamb for dinner, a few beers (Speight's 'Old Dark' for you kiwi-readers), and enough petrol to traipse about elsewhere on the South Island that weekend.

 

Maybe it was the heat of mid-day, or the boredom of dealing with my own thoughts for too long, but I answered his call.

"Who me?"

"Yeah!"

"It's Josie."

And so it began. Small talk flew over the tree tops. I climbed down my ladder. I stood at the bottom of his. I noticed his odd, brown, leather work shoes. He began to descend. A baseball hat cast a deep shadow over most of his face. I gasped. He was cuuuute! 

 

To be continued...

For those who haven't come accross Cherry Clafoutis before, let me just say it is one brilliant use of cherries. No pitting involved, as leaving the pits in is a French tradition which is said to add to the depth of flavour. Real vanilla, eggs, cream, and toasted almonds tossed over top make for the perfect finish to a summer meal.

Continue to Recipe...

Strawberries with Ricotta Cream

Strawberries should not be tampered with. They should not be stuck in crumbles, muffins or other doughy goods. They should be eaten simply and with just a bit of sweetness - sugar, cream, a hint of citrus and mint. Period. Finito.

It seems such a waste to have them buried in layers of sweet pasty. I mean, really, anything tastes good in pastry year round, so why go through all that trouble cranking up the oven in June just to have something pale and mushy adorning your cake?

Leave 'em alone, I say. Keep 'em fresh and brilliantly red. Smoothies, hot compote over ice cream, sure, why not? But stick them in the oven for an hour. Oh, please don't.

Sometimes I fiddle around with a shortcake recipe upon which to pile a mound of sliced and sweetened berries on top. Recently, though, I neglected to notice the words 'self-rising' in front of the word 'flour' in the shortcake recipe. Needless to say, I had a pan of flat and crisply burned discs in the oven. 

The light at the end of it all turned out to be a tub of ricotta cheese in the fridge. It had went unused after last-weekends overly-ambitious idea of freshly made tortellini never came to fruition.

This dish, sweetened with maple syrup, brings a refreshing and earthy change to the strawberries and cream duo. This is a fantastic do-ahead item. Just take them out of the fridge 15 minutes before serving, as the flavours in the cream are best mildly cold.

Continue to recipe...

Lemon Poppy Seed Muffins

Sometimes the mundane is what makes life so enjoyable. It's important to remember to be kind to ourselves, slow down, and enjoy what each day has to offer. Sounds a bit trite? Sure. Yet who among us can't use another reminder to lay off the pressure on ourselves, and our loved ones, just a bit. 

Lemon poppy baked goods are nothing earth shattering, but they are comforting and uplifting. It remains one of my all-time fave flavour combos, which makes sense given that, among waves of food trends, lemon poppy seed cakes, muffins, scones, and waffles still flatter the pages of food magazines and cookbooks year after year. 

To test out my new oven thermometer (purchased due to my hair-pulling gas oven which has a dial with unmarked lines - no numbers, nothing - to set the temperature) I decided I needed to give another crack at the lemon poppy seed muffin. You see, the challenge is to balance the sweetness. Many recipes I've tried fall into one or the other extreme on the sweetness line. These muffins should be suitable for breakkie, yet sweet enough to snack on during that mid-afternoon energy slump. 

And wouldn't you know, I finally hit upon that balance. Maybe it was that oven thermometer that inspired some extra thought and vigilance while hammering out the recipe, or maybe karma just decided it was my morning for a treat. Whatever the case, I can finally share that sought-after recipe. It makes a batch of muffins plus a pan of mini-muffins (better for sharing, or sticking in the freezer for later.) I think raw sugar is the key to maintaining the sweetness balance, but there is a sugary glaze that I made and used over half the muffins...the ones intended for later in the afternoon.

Check out more scrumptious bites at Sweets for Saturday.

Continue to Recipe...

Grilled Chicken and Mango Salad

If I were to make a top-ten list of things I miss about the living in the States, the availability of cilantro would most certainly be on it. This much-adored herb has yet to break into the Czech foodscape, and is relegated to Vietnamese shops and sometimes sold in pots in herb sections of the grocery stores. So last year I started growing my own. Sometimes from little potted plants, sometimes from seed, but always with fairly good results.


As long as the pot is deep enough for the long 'tap root' it is said to have, one shouldn't have any problems. I keep popping in a few more seeds every few weeks to keep up the rotation in a few pots to give me a constant supply all summer long. Which means, for this months' Forever Nigella challenge Salad Days, hosted by Belleau Kitchen,  I could easily throw together her Chicken, Mango and Chilli Salad. 

This salad is so quick and easy to assemble, and is satisfyingly healthy to boot.

Both groundnut (peanut) and sesame oils are called for, but I omitted the peanut oil and used just a wee bit of sesame oil, and it was just the right touch. Also, the recipe states that it serves 2-3, but I easily gobbled it all up on my own for a nice big filling dinner after a long day. I didn't have leftover chicken to make it with (as the recipe calls for), but rather threw a piece on a little grill machine for 20 minutes while prepping (and photographing) the salad bits. The result: crisp, bright and tangy, with a bit of spice. Lovely.

Can't wait to be inspired by the other salads in this month's round!

Dobrou Chut'/ Enjoy.
-- Jo

Chickpea-Quinoa Stuffed Round Zucchini

A hidden surprise is always appreciated in the face of disappointment. This was the case during the last trip to the farmers market, where I anxiously hoped for more ramps. It had already become too hot for them during the last week, so no ramps were to be found. What was there, however, were these cute little Italian round zucchinis! I took one look at them and knew they were meant to be used as little bowls, stuffed with some savoury mix.



Many, many, many years ago, when I was devouring a lot of vegetarian books at the library when I was a teenager, I made these things called 'zucchini boats' at the family grill-out. It was with traditionally shaped ones, but they were stuffed with cumin-y chickpeas. It may have been the first time I had eaten chickpeas. Who knows. But I do know that zucchini and chickpeas left quite the impression. So this recipe easily came together. We might even say it was decade(s) in the making.

At the market: the Czech local veg trinity: celery root, carrots, and parsnips.



I wanted to show a few images from Brno's market. There's of course a lot of flowers this time of year, and some Czech produce (Slovak as well.) A lot of things are still coming from down South around the Mediterranean. I tend to easily justify buying from Italy, as it's only 400 miles away from us, so it's basically like eating California veg while in Cali (which is twice that distance at 840 miles long.) Heck, with that math I might start considering Spanish and Greek produce 'local' too.
 
In all seriousness though, I do try to stick to Czech produce as much as possible, and am impressed with the vendors here, as most of them label each product with country of origin.







Okay, before we get to that recipe, though, how about one gratuitous cute puppy shot? I was so proud of her first market visit. At 4 months she is still a little skittish around people (although not people with dogs, only ones without them. It's almost like she wonders why they think they're allowed to roam free without a dog guiding them.)

Note: More zucchini fun in July over at BestyLife's Seasonal Potluck!

Continue to Recipe...

Battle of the Asparagus: Green vs. White

The Set-up:
Looking forward to asparagus season every year is something I look forward to. Is that circular reasoning to say I look forward to the looking forward? It's true, though. When it finally hits whatever locality I'm in that year, there is no greater release than that first bundle of asparagus, proudly being carried home, and lightly sauteed in olive oil for it's first performance.

In the Czech Republic green asparagus is hard to come by. I have rarely, if ever, seen green Czech asparagus, rather it comes from Slovakia. Being ex-country-mates, Slovakian products don't even need the slightest justification to be considered local. But even Slovakian green stalks only make a limited appearance.

I have therefor acquiesced to eating white asparagus. Yet, something always tugs at me, thinking it's inferior. It's too big, too woody, too muted, too...whatever. I am just not as satisfied eating the white as I am it's green better half. So I decided on a taste test. Some Slovakian greens finally showed up at the market this week, giving me the chance to compare it to our Czech whites.

Let the Battle of the Asparagus begin!



The Preparation:
The bottom bits were snapped off at their natural breaking point. The whites, because they are naturally wider and and therefor a bit woodier, snapped further up on the stalk, giving a little less bang for the buck. I then peeled the whites with a vegetable peeler. I know that they tend to be rather stringy, so this is my usual tactic. Together they were tossed together in a pan, drizzled with a generous amount of olive oil, salt/peppered, and roasted for about 10 minutes.

 
The Verdict:
While the white variety definitely struggles with its much thicker nature, it still retains that delicate asparagus taste - especially at the tips. The biggest surprise though, and it wasn't until I was almost finished that I finally identified this, was that the white asparagus has a more buttery flavour. Really. Even though I used only olive oil, I could of sworn there was a few knobs of butter snuck in there. Not found with the green though.

The hefty girth of the white variety really plays with its texture. I've seen some at the farmers market this year which are so thick that only about ten of them are needed to make up a 500g bundle - peeling before cooking helps considerably. However, as it is said that white asparagus is more tender than its green counterpart, I found this to be true. At the middle of it's slightly stringy outside, it is meltingly soft and tender. At least, it is on the top half of the stalk. The bottom is definitely crispy. If you're not afraid (or too cheap) to break off a big part of the ends before cooking, you shouldn't have a problem with overt woodiness.

All in all, the taste test has buoyed my outlook a bit. As I normally buy the white variety due to it's Czech home-grown nature, I tend to still yearn for the green. I am by nature a person who is rarely satisfied with what's on her plate right in front of her. I struggle with this greatly. So the next time I am picking at my side of white asparagus and tempted to think "it's just not asparagus-y enough. I with I had the green..." I'll remember this experience and know that both white and green are truly even matched in their asparagusness, and truth be told, I really do prefer the texture of the white (so long as they are not bigger than my thumb.)

I wish everything were as simple as setting up a Battle of... test to realize the value of what one has.

Dobrou Chut'/ Enjoy.
-- Jo.