Monday, July 21, 2014

Make Lemonade


Sometimes things do not turn out as well as expected. It happens to the best of us, and when it does, one should not despair but make lemonade from the lemons handed. Last year, the healthy growth on the potatoes foretold a glorious harvest, but resulted in nothing much. This year, the potatoes succumbed to disease and only gave a meagre crop. At least there was still enough for dinner for two!


Having no garden to speak of at the moment, I would never think to grow onions on the balcony. They take more room than it's worth. However, I just could not resist these decorative onions! They're so pretty, and -technically- edible as well. Even the bees can't resist them.


This cute fellow is North American wild garlic (Allium canadense). It packs a punch in its flowers and bulb, but has been known to be toxic in large quantities. Dogs should be kept well away from these.


I keep reading headlines about the end of summer (I know, crazy eh?), Summer is here for a while longer, so let's not dismiss her just yet. It's passion fruit season. Yes indeed! And there is no need to buy imported fruits: you can grow them yourself. It seems unlikely, yet passion fruits do rather well under less than tropical climes as long as winters are not too chilly. Where winters are frosty, passion flowers can be grown in pots, and brought indoors in the autumn. London gardens are rife with them, and if you are in the know, you can reap an abundant harvest. The more common passion flowers are rather vigorous vines, and are much too aggressive for a balcony garden, so I've been good about not succumbing to the temptation of getting a plant for myself.  


Until I met this little lass. She was too pretty to resist. And while I have yet to see any fruits forming, I remain hopeful...



Bon app', and happy gardening!




Sunday, July 13, 2014

Hampton Court


What started out as a rather ominous day turned out to be rather auspicious. All week, rainy weather was forecasted for today, and it wasn't until yesterday that I got a twinge of hope that a sunny window could open up in the afternoon. The ground was wet when I stepped out in the morning, and the air had a definite chill, but the sun was in full glory by the time I stepped off the train to make my way to the Hampton Court Flower Show.


I was, as I am sure you would understand, much too busy looking at -and desiring- plants that I did not have the room to own, so there is little evidence of the show's splendour. However, I did manage to gather my spirits a little to take a few snaps.


I'm always bowled over by the dahlia displays, since one rarely ever see more than a handful of variety in any given garden. 


So I can't help myself when I see two or three dozens exhibited side to side: it kind of feels like a family reunion!


There were so many beautiful plants and flowers that I found myself going round and round the marquees so that I could get a second, third and fourth look at specimens that I could not have for myself. I was rather taken by the Alliums (onion family), and have brought home three little pots. 


If only I could magically increase the size of my garden...



Happy gardening!



Friday, July 11, 2014

Hello Stranger!


Oh, hey, it's been a while... I know, I keep zoning out, making excuses for disappearing... It's been a crazy busy summer, I don't know where the time has gone. The garden -despite being so tiny- has been keeping me on my toes, and the near drought conditions we had been experiencing up until this week have been relentless. The thirsty plants that feed me seemed like more of a priority.


But I have been thinking up LOTS of things to write about, and if I can just get around to sitting down to type everything, I just may have a few posts up my sleeves this month. On my mind -and in my belly- at the moment are gyoza. Though these little dumplings are now most often called by their Japanese name, they are originally of Chinese origin and were once known by the moniker 'pot sticker'.


The dumplings are wrapped in a round, wheat-based dough and folded much like Polish pierogies or Russian piroshki. The pastry is easily found in most Asian shops, though if you have the time and stamina, it can be made by hand. Gyoza wrappers are not to be confused with wonton wrappers which are square, and usually contain eggs, or shumai/har-kau wrappers which are made with rice flour and tapioca starch.


The pastry is often sold frozen, but I prefer to buy pastry from the refrigerator since any left-overs can be frozen. I also try to get the thinnest pastry possible as thick pastry results in doughy dumplings. However, there are rarely any indications on the packaging as to the thickness of the pastry, so if you do end up with doorstop wrappers, you can thin them out yourself with a rolling pin.


Gyoza are traditionally filled with minced pork and/or chopped prawns, but anything can be turned into a filling: as I eat mostly vegetarian fare, I replace the minced meat with crushed firm tofu. The most basic ingredients are garlic, ginger, spring onions, and Chinese cabbage, all in obscene quantities. Anything else is up for grabs. I sometimes even throw in left-over bits of cheese, if it's kicking about. The filling in the following pictures is composed of the above basic ingredients, tofu, bits of Cheddar, and kimchi, a spicy Korean pickled cabbage.


Gyoza
Yields 50 dumplings

50 sheets gyoza wrappers (about 300g/10.6oz)
250g/8.8oz firm tofu (more or less 2 blocs) -you can substitute with prawns, minced pork or chicken
5 green onions
5 cloves of garlic
5cm/2" piece of ginger
4 leaves of Chinese cabbage
½tsp salt
ground pepper 
vegetable oil

Optional additions: mushrooms; kimchi; diced cheese; grated carrots, daikon; Asian pickles such as bamboo shoots



Place the tofu blocs in a colander over a bowl, and weigh down with a plate. Let sit for at least half an hour (at room temperature), or up to a day (in the fridge).
Wash the green onions, and finely chop. Trim and peel the garlic and ginger, and mince or grate on a fine grater.
Wash the Chinese cabbage leaves, cut into three or four lengthwise strips, and chop.
Mix together the cabbage, green onions, garlic and ginger, and season with the salt and pepper. Let sit for 15 to 20 minutes. 
Grab the veg mix by the handful, and squeeze out as much juice as possible: you want the filling to be very dry.
Remove the weight from the tofu, and pat dry with a paper towel. Crumble the tofu into the veg mix.
If using any optional additions, chop finely, and squeeze out any excess juice before mixing into the veg.  


To fill the dumplings, set up a production line: fill a bowl with cold water, have a baking tray or a plate ready for the finished dumplings, remove the wrappers from the packet, have a few teaspoons at the ready, and clear out a section of your worktop.
Dip a finger in the water bowl and dampen the edge of one pastry sheet.
Place a teaspoonful of filling in the centre of the pastry: it is of the utmost importance not to overfill the wrapper!
Fold the pastry in two, and pinch the edges shut.
Crimp the dumpling by folding the edge over and over, just as you would a paper fan. 
Line the dumplings onto the baking tray, and proceed with the rest of the wrappers.
The gyoza can be frozen at this point, and cooked (from frozen) at a later date.


To cook the gyoza, heat a large frying pan to medium-high. When hot, add a tablespoonful of oil in the pan, and swirl about.
Place the gyoza in the pan, side to side, touching their neighbours is fine.


Leave the dumplings to fry until their bottoms are nicely crisped and golden brown.
Add about 1cm/½" of water to the pan, and cover with a lid.
Steam the dumplings until the pan goes dry, about 3 minutes.


If you are cooking frozen dumplings, double the amount of water added to the pan, and leave to steam for at least 8 minutes, to ensure that the filling is completely defrosted and cooked through.
Slide the dumplings onto a plate and serve immediately.
Before cooking another batch, wipe the the pan clean, then add more oil.


Gyoza are traditionally served with a dipping sauce made of strong mustard, soy sauce, white vinegar and chili oil, but really, any dipping sauce will do. If you are filling your gyoaza with different stuffings, fold the wrappers in different manners in order to tell them apart: the edge can be scrunched together to form a little hobo's parcel; meet up three sides together to make triangular Hamentaschen, or make a four sided version.


Alternatively, you can do the Shanghai fold: Pinch the edge in one hand, and with the other, crimp one half of the pastry. With the pinching hand, press the crimped edge to the flat back. The resulting dumpling should have a curved backside and a bulging front.




Bon app'!



Friday, June 20, 2014

Summer in the City

Summer will officially be here in a few minutes, and the warmer days really seem to be here to stay. Just as well, because I think that most of us are growing weary of dull skies and drizzly days. The British asparagus season is drawing to a close, but there are many other seasonal produce to look forward to, whether on this side of the pond or the on the other.


Berries
June is all about the berries! The British strawberry season, like asparagus, had an early start, but this month also see the first raspberries and bilberries -a European cousin of the blueberry. Nothing says summer like Eton Mess, summer pudding, or a simple bowl of berries and cream!


Garlic scapes and other Flowers
New season garlic, or better known in Britain by its unromantic moniker 'wet garlic', should be available at the end of the month, but what I really look forward to in June are the scapes. The flower stalks are only produced by hard neck garlic, most commonly grown in Canada and in northern regions of France, less so in the UK. The curlicue flower stalks are decorative enough to grace a flower vase, but they truly shine in the plate. Finely chop them into dishes as a substitute for cloves of garlic, or keep them chunky and feature them in a stir-fry.


Just about every plant on my balcony are itching to flower, and many are edible: pansies, nasturtiums, oregano, sage, thyme... The list goes on: generally speaking, if the plant's leaf and stalk are safe to eat, the flower should be too. However, play it safe! If you are unsure whether or not a flower can be eaten, look it up before you throw it in the salad.

Rhubarb
British gardeners seem to think that rhubarb can only be picked until mid-June. In North-America, it is a fact that the only way to prevent an invasion of rhubarb plants is to keep picking it until late August... Well, to each his own, but if I had enough room to grow rhubarb, I'd be eating it all summer.

There is a plethora of tasty, seasonal treats to look forward to, so do indulge in the peppery radishes, tender new potatoes, plump cherry tomatoes, and the first wild mushrooms of the year.



Bon app'!




Thursday, May 22, 2014

To Capri and Back


Everyone loves a good Caprese salad. The emphasis being on good: there's no point to a plate of tomato and mozzarella if the tomatoes are rock hard and as flavoursome as cardboard. So obviously, in May, when one is craving a nice salad, the Caprese would not be the first choice. However, if it's the soft mozarella you're hankering after, there is a way.


British asparagus are just about hitting their stride (they should not be far off in North-America), so -not surprisingly- I have been gorging on asparagus whenever possible. In fact, I've made a point of having asparagus at least every other day since the beginning of the month. And I will not slow down until the season ends in a couple of weeks.


So. About that salad. It's really not that complicated. Take a ball of mozzarella or a few bocconcini out of the whey, and leave at room temperature for at least half an hour. Mozzarella has such a delicate flavour that it is best appreciated at room temperature. You do want to use fresh mozzarella for this salad, keep the dried stuff for pizza and lasagne. If splurging is in order, go for some buffalo mozzarella or a creamy burrata. Meanwhile, boil or steam some asparagus until they are just barely done: squeeze a spear or two at the bottom end, if there is some give, they're ready.


Pile the asparagus on a plate -or two if you are sharing. Roughly tear the balls of cheese, and drape over the asparagus. Drizzle with a nice olive oil, or better yet use a nut oil: hazelnut really brings out the nutty notes in asparagus, but walnut may be a little easier to find. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt and a fresh grind of pepper.


Purists will cry out that a real Caprese salad is NEVER drenched with balsamic vinegar, but this isn't a classic Caprese: it's asparagus with mozzarella. And balsamic vinegar -it needn't be an expensive one- is rather nice over the green spears. There is no need to drown the salad in vinegar, just a few drops are enough to bring out the sweetness and counter notes of wilted grass. (That last remark may sound a little cryptic, but if you've ever had tinned asparagus you will understand...)


No need for sprigs of basil either, they would be superfluous. However, you will need to serve a generous amount of bread with this salad, as you will want to mop up all those lovely juices on the plate.



Bon app'!



Related Posts with Thumbnails