Monday, 13 January 2014

Don't waste that duck! How to render duck fat and clarify duck stock

If you've gone to the effort of roasting a beautiful duck, or making Peking Duck (read this fantastic post  here for a Peking Duck that is crispy skinned and delicious every time), it's a shame to waste any part of it. With a little extra effort that night and the following day, you can store the duck fat and make duck stock.

Both of these things are expensive to buy in stores and sometimes completely unavailable commercially. I haven't come across duck stock for sale anywhere, although chicken stock is ubiquitous. Duck stock tastes a little like chicken stock but it is richer and darker. It's wonderful to use for risottos, soups and sauces. Duck flavours go particularly well with mushrooms, potato, beetroot and any type of poultry where it can impart a complexity of flavour beyond that of the original bird. For this reason, it's great to have a carton of duck stock in your freezer - it keeps very well frozen and you'll always have it available.

Duck fat is even MORE useful. It has a high smoke point which means it doesn't burn like butter. You can use it for both shallow and deep frying. If you've used a large quantity you can strain it afterwards and re-use it. Roasting vegetables, particularly potatoes, in duck fat is well known to contribute both to their flavour and their crispiness. It can be used in salad dressings (you need to heat it slightly to make it liquid) and in making pastry, where it gives a fluffy light crispness. If you'd like some more detailed information on its uses, check here.

I hope I've convinced you of the usefulness of duck fat and stock - the best bit is that they take very little work to make if you have cooked a duck. (Obviously, they're a bit trickier if you haven't.) Basically you have to make both concurrently. Here's how.

How to clarify duck stock and render duck fat


After you have eaten your delicious duck and cleared the table, scrape all the bones, meat scraps, skin, etc into a saucepan. If you have cut off any parts of the duck prior to cooking (the neck or some of the fatty skin for example), reserve these at the time and add them in to the saucepan at this point. Add enough water to cover amply all of the bones, and put the saucepan on to simmer while you do the normal after dinner things (having dessert, washing the dishes, stacking the dishwasher, etc.)

At some point (I am assuming you have cooked and eaten your duck in the evening, for dinner) you will want to go to bed. Hopefully this will be at least an hour, possibly rather more, since you put the duck leftovers to simmer in the water. Before you go to bed, pass the duck mixture through a fine sieve into a ceramic or metal bowl. The sieve should catch all of the bones and solids while allowing the liquids to pass into the bowl. Discard all of the bones and solids. Cover the bowl with cling film and put it in the fridge overnight.

In the morning (or the following night, if you have to rush off to work first thing), you should find that your bowl of duck stock has magically separated, pushing the cream-coloured fat to the surface and creating a firm, clear jelly underneath.

If the fat is still liquid, put it back in the fridge for a while. You need it to be firm. It won't go hard exactly, but it will become pale and solid enough to scoop up in a spoon.














This shows the consistency the fat should be before you attempt to clarify the stock. It will be white and a bit grainy. It will be able to be manipulated in a soft but solid layer quite distinct from the stock beneath.



















Using a spatula, roll the fat layer off the stock very carefully, trying not to bring any stock with you.





















Scoop the fat into another bowl, separating it out from the stock.





















Keep going until you have scooped out pretty much all of the fat from the stock. The bowl containing your fat will look a little like this (the dark patches are bits of stock that have unavoidably been transferred).










Your stock will look something like this. Most of the fat has been removed but a bit still remains around the edges and there are some patches in the middle that may have 'melted' a bit while you're working, making them difficult to scoop up.

Heat up both your bowls - the stock and the fat - to encourage the magical 'separation' process for both. This will help you get the last bits of fat out of the stock, and the last bits of stock out of the fat. Leave them both to cool - this may take a few more hours; if you do the first stage in the morning, leave the bowls in the fridge until the evening and then do the next stage.
When the remaining fat has again returned to the surface of the stock and has gone pale and somewhat solid, use a spatula or spoon to scrape it all away. You should end up with a clear jellied stock, with no fatty film on the surface.








Scoop this out into a container that you can microwave (or a saucepan). Be careful as you get down to the lower parts of the bowl - as you see here, there may be some grit and impurities at the bottom of the bowl. Discard these and only use the clear and pure jellied stock.

Heat until liquid, then transfer this to a bottle or lidded container and freeze it. You have made a beautiful, clarified duck stock!









Do the same thing with your duck fat - scrape any impurities off the top, then scoop the fat into another container. Be very careful as you get toward the bottom, as more impurities will collect there. It's important to get your duck fat as pure as possible so that it will keep well.

You should end up with a container full of very pure, creamy white duck fat. Seal the container and put it in the fridge. You now have wonderful, rendered duck fat!










That's all - I hope you enjoy this relatively simple process and get absolutely everything out of your duck!






Wednesday, 1 January 2014

How to make butter at home ... Dr Cupcake explains the tricks, joys and perils of domestic buttermaking

Why would I make my own butter when I can buy it?

What an amazing feeling of satisfaction is engendered by making, spreading and eating your very own home made butter! There is a homely goodness to it. It reminds you of being snugly tucked up in a warm house with pouring rain outside. It tastes like the butter from your childhood, the kind you used to spread thickly on your white sliced bread. In a word, it's delicious.

 It's also very simple to make. I didn't know this until a few months ago, when I read a newspaper article about the resurgence of domestic butter-making. It quoted a creamery owner saying that people could achieve an excellent result in their own kitchens as long as they didn't mind the mess of  buttermilk splashing everywhere. That was enough for me. I had to try it.

After using the resources of the googlewebs, I came across a few different and sometimes contradictory formulas and comments. My method is a combination. It's what works best for me. You may find opposing views elsewhere. Butter-making is such an ancient art, and widespread through so many countries, that there are probably many different ways to achieve a good result.

 

 

What ingredients do I need to make great butter at home?

You need pure cream - that is, cream that has no additives. You will need to look at the ingredients panel on the container. It should read "100% cream" or "pure cream". If you see any mention of thickeners, gelatine, non-fat milk solids, vegetable gum or anything else, don't make butter with it because it won't work. You may read elsewhere that the butterfat content of the cream needs to be at least 45% but this is not true. I make butter from thin (pouring) cream with an average 35% butterfat content. This works beautifully and it's also cheaper.

 You also need a small amount of salt if using (you don't have to salt your butter but it will keep longer if you do).

You can make butter from any quantity of cream. For domestic purposes, 600ml (a bit more than a pint) of thin cream will yield 260 grams of butter, which is about the unit size of a log of butter bought at the shop. This will fit into a normal mixing bowl and be manageable to work with. It will also yield 270ml of buttermilk - enough to make a decent cake, scones or pancakes (see below for details).

These measurements are approximate - you may find that this amount of cream yields a bit more or less butter, depending on your process, wastage and the exact proportion of butterfat in the cream. This can vary from week to week even in the same brand - it depends on lots of natural factors like the quality of the grass that the cows are eating, and the amount of recent rain. It's great to know that the natural world can't be precisely measured!

What kitchen equipment do I need?

You need two medium sized mixing bowls, an electric beater (I use a hand held beater with two paddles), some ice cubes and water. It is also really helpful to have either some thin muslin to strain the butter, or a couple of old fashioned butter paddles (pictured). A wooden chopping board and some paper towelling will also be useful.

How do I begin?

Pour the cream into the first mixing bowl and start beating it with your electric beater on the lowest speed. I place the mixing bowl in the empty sink as pictured - you'll understand why in a little while.

Beat for about 6 minutes and 30 seconds to get to the first stage of 'softly whipped cream'. This may take more or less time depending on the speed of your beater and the fat content of your cream. These timings refer to thin pouring cream. If you use a thick dessert cream you will reach all of the stages much quicker - so don't go by the timings, they are just a basic indication. Just keep a close eye on the cream.

 

 

 

 

Stage 1: Softly whipped 

 

  If you are using thin cream, when you have been beating at a low speed for about 6 minutes and 30 seconds, the cream should be 'softly whipped'.
This means it is light and fluffy. If you stop the beaters and draw a ribbon of cream across the surface, the ribbon will 'hold' its shape and position rather than dissolving back into the body of the cream. (This texture is called 'holding the ribbon' and it's also used to describe textures when you are beating eggs or cake mixture.)


Keep beating.

 

Stage 2: Stiffly whipped

 

When you have been beating the cream for about 7 minutes and 30 seconds, the cream will firm up quite suddenly and become 'stiffly whipped'.
In this form, if you draw one of the beaters out of the cream, the cream will follow the beater and stand up in in stiff 'point', similar to stiffly-beaten egg whites. (A brief note: if you actually want whipped cream and NOT butter, be very careful - the next stage (granular) follows very quickly, and there's no going back from that - your cream won't be cream anymore!)

Turn the speed of your beater up a notch and keep beating.

 

 Stage 3: Stiff and granular 

 

After beating for about 8 minutes, your cream will suddenly turn from being stiffly whipped to becoming very stiff and granular.
You will see the difference in the texture quite clearly.

Keep beating.














Stage 4: Grainy, beginning to break 

 

After about 10 minutes and 15 seconds, your butter will begin to 'break'. This means that the fats and the water-soluble components of the cream are beginning to separate. The cream looks unattractively bitty with lots of tiny lumps.

Sometimes the cream stays at this stage for quite some time before proceeding to 'break' entirely. I'm not sure why. The best solution is simply to keep beating and don't give up. If you get sick of it, put it in the fridge for a while and have another go later.

Keep beating.

 

 

 

 

 

Stage 5: Breaking

After about 11 minutes and 45 seconds, the butter will begin to 'break' in earnest. The first sign is the way it sounds: you will hear a sloshing sound as the watery liquids are released from the butter and begin to pool in the bottom of the bowl. Next you will begin to see the liquid buttermilk fly up in droplets around your beaters. (This is why I recommend placing your mixing bowl in the sink: if it's on the bench, the buttermilk will spatter over everything within three square feet. If it's in the sink, most of the spatters will hit the sides of the sink and are easy to wipe away.)

Stage 6: Butter

 

After about 12 minutes and 10 seconds the butter will be resolving itself into clumps which are very distinct. Over a minute or so these clumps will gradually come together as a single lump of butter sitting in a pool of liquid buttermilk. When this happens, you can stop beating. You have made butter!






 

Stage 7: Washing out the buttermilk

To stop your butter from going off too quickly, you will need to 'wash' the rest of the buttermilk out of it. You can do this by pushing cold water through the butter and gradually diluting the buttermilk into the water.

Take your other mixing bowl and put a few ice cubes in it, then fill it with cold water. Making sure your hands are clean and cold, lift the lump of butter out of the buttermilk and squeeze it into a ball with your hands. Get as much liquid out of it as possible. Then drop it into the iced water.

Using your hands, knead the butter gently in the water, spreading and gathering it.








The water will become cloudy as the buttermilk comes out.When the water is too cloudy, pour it out and put fresh water and ice in, then knead some more until the water stops becoming cloudy.
















 

Stage 8: Pressing out the water

Now you need to get as much of the remaining water out of the butter as possible. The purer the butter is, the longer it will last and the better the texture will be.

Wet down a clean wooden chopping board and the butter paddles if you have them, or the muslin if you have that. If you have neither, don't worry, you can still do a reasonable job.










 

With clean, cold hands, lift the butter from the water and squeeze it into a ball as hard as you can. Place it on the board and, using the paddles or your hands, knead it until you see some beads of water appearing on the surface. Either shake the butter to get these off, or blot them off with some clean paper towel (being very careful not to leave any fibres in the butter). Repeat until most or all of the water beads are gone.












If you are using muslin, rinse the muslin in cold water, wring it out and spread it flat on a clean benchtop. Place the butter in the centre of the muslin, then wrap the muslin around it and twist very tightly to force it into a firm ball. Tie the muslin in place and sit the ball of butter on top of a small bowl - balance it on the edges of the bowl to allow space underneath it for the water to drip out. Place it in the fridge for an hour or so. Take it out and inspect the butter for water beads - if you can still see some when you slice or knead the butter, repeat the process until the butter is smooth and non-beaded.

 

Stage 9: Adding salt


In the days before refrigeration, people would make butter with a huge amount of salt - so much that it was unpalatable. In this salty state it could safely be cellared for a few months. When the butter was to be used, the salt was rinsed out to make the butter edible again. Amazing huh!

These days the amazing, magical refrigerator has given us a bit more latitude. You can even skip this step and have your butter unsalted if you prefer. But remember that salt is the only preservative in home-made butter. Even refrigeration can only do so much. If you don't salt your butter, use it up within a few days or it will begin to go rancid.

I recommend that you add some salt to your butter, both for taste and for longevity. You can use any salt that you want. I like using Maldon Sea Salt flakes, which remain in small, fairly soft crystals in the butter. If you don't want this interruption to the texture of your butter, use a fine grained table salt. You could experiment with flavoured salts (I was given a Gewurzhaus White Truffle Salt for Christmas and I can't wait to make some truffle-infused butter). You can also mix fresh or dried herbs into your butter at this stage. It's totally up to you.

Spread your perfectly-textured (we hope) butter out on the wooden board and sprinkle it with a teaspoon of salt. Knead the butter, taste it, and add more salt if you want. After you have mixed the salt through well, shape the butter into a log or a roll (you may need to put it in the fridge for ten minutes first if it's too soft to hold a shape).
 When it's salted/flavoured and shaped to your satisfaction, wrap it in baking paper, aluminium foil, or both (the baking paper inside the foil), and put it in the fridge.

Use it up within a week or so - I'm not sure of the shelf life because mine has always disappeared long before any hint of rancidity! If you've salted it well, it may keep for longer. Feel free to experiement but be careful, and never eat butter that looks, smells or tastes 'wrong'.

 

FAQs

 

Why won't my cream 'break' into butter?

 

This happened to me once. I beat my cream for ages and all I got was a grainy, slightly wet mess. I'm not sure why it happens, but my best tip is to keep beating - once your cream gets to this stage it has already started to break and it may simply take longer than usual for the break to occur fully.

If, on the other hand, your cream doesn't ever really get to this stage, check if you've actually used 'pure' cream. If your cream has been thickened artificially, it may not respond in the same way as pure cream. In this case I recommend you give it up as a bad job and stomp off to bed in a huff.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why is my cream pocked with little dents and bubbles when I cut into it?

You might not have rinsed out the water or the butterfat properly. The more thoroughly you rinse out the butterfat and press out the water, the more even-textured your butter will be.


 

 

 

 

 

 

Why do I need butter pats?

You don't actually - but they are very useful. Before I had butter pats I could make butter that was quite good - I managed to get the water pressed out using my bare hands and dabbing the butter with kitchen towel to absorb the water. When my ever-wonderful partner gave me some vintage butter pats, however, I was amazed to see how much quicker and more effective the pats were in pressing the water from the butter. A quick flick of the pats and the droplets fly off. For an investment of $AUD 25 or so, I recommend purchasing a pair - if you can find some. Try antique or vintage stores.

 

What happens if I don't salt my butter?

It will be fine initially but it won't keep as long. Salt is a preservative and without it your butter won't last. Be sure to keep it in the fridge and consume it within a few days.

 

Do I need a churn?

No you don't. I always thought you did too. Electric beaters are fine. Some people just shake cream in a clean glass jar, with a marble to mix it well. but that sounds like hard work to me.

 

How long will home made butter last?

At least a week if kept in the fridge and probably longer, especially if it's well salted. If you don't salt your butter it may not last as long as this.

 

What happens if my butter goes rancid?

Rancidity is a chemical process whereby the fats in the butter begin to deteriorate. If you keep your butter too long without any preservatives, it will go rancid. We don't encounter rancid butter very often in these days of overused preservatives where commercial butter can last for up to a year if cold stored. In days gone by it was a common problem.  Rancid butter smells and tastes bad. Don't eat it. Throw it away and make another batch.

 

What can I do with the leftover buttermilk? 

Great question! If you start off with about 600ml of thin cream, you'll have about 270 ml of buttermilk left over in addition to your butter. Don't waste it - buttermilk is amazing stuff.
Firstly - taste it! Fresh home made buttermilk is not the same as the commercial stuff. It's liquid enough and sweet enough to use as a milk substitute. It's also low in fat, because all of the fat has gone into the butter. So try it on your muesli or as a drink.

Secondly - it's a fantastic milk substitute to use in cooking. Use it in cakes, muffins, scones, brownies, pancakes or anything else in the place of milk. It's great.

Thirdly - although I haven't tried this personally, I've read that it's a great addition to salad dressings. In this context, think of it like a thin cream or a yoghurt. Experiment and enjoy.

 

Anything else?

I've shared all that I know - if anyone has any helpful tips or tricks that might help all us amateur buttermakers out there, please feel free to leave comments and share your views.

With love from Dr Cupcake.




Thursday, 5 September 2013

Once upon a time: a sumptuous banquet of the 1920s ... and how to recreate it.

Once upon a time long ago ...

... There was a raven-haired beauty with sparkling eyes, cherry lips and peachy skin, tanned to olive by the strong sun of her island home. She loved the beach and the surf, and she would go every day during summer in her knitted bathing costume (made to fit perfectly, with the shorts taken up, daringly, far beyond the mid thigh), carrying her sturdy wooden surfboard, to paddle, surf and play. The beauty had a loving father, mother and sisters, and she was extremely happy, because she was set to marry her dashing, witty, beloved fiancee. The year was 1924; the beauty's name was Grace; and she was my grandmother.

To celebrate the imminent nuptials, on the sixth of March, 1924, Grace was taken out to a very special dinner at Phair's Hotel, Melbourne. This dinner was organised by the Societé Française and sponsored by none other than Champagne G. H. Mumm & Co - and therefore the sparkling eyes of Grace and her fellow guests (her fiancé, Kenneth Wootton, and two friends) were matched by some very good French sparkling wines.

The menu for the evening was decorated with a romantic coloured picture of a young man serenading a lady on a balcony; there were eight courses of the most delectable and unusual delicacies; and everything was written entirely in French - no doubt testing the schoolboy language skills of my grandfather (it certainly tested mine).

I was so charmed to discover this - and the meal it documents - that I've decided to take you through it. And then, if you're still with me, I'm going to recreate some dishes from it. (But not all at once, because eight courses is a bit much for your typical dinner in 2013, especially when you're finding it difficult to fit into your jeans.)







Back to 1924 - and a close inspection of the menu reveals a pleasant focus on alcoholic beverages (cocktails secs to start and liqueurs to finish, accompanied - I assume - by Mumm Cordon Rouge Champagne at all other times).

With the cocktails came a plate of oysters, tuna and olives. A delicate palate cleanser followed this, in the form of asparagus soup; then the serious food started.

Lobster å l'Americaine led the way (this recipe, with the lobster poached gently in a sauce of tomato, butter, white wine, cognac, shallots and herbs was invented by French chef Pierre Fraysse for the American restaurant Chez Peter's in the 1850s).

Next was an Entrec ote Bordelaise - we'd recognise this as a premium eye or Scotch fillet steak, seared, sliced and served with a red wine jus.

Just in case that wasn't enough, there was a succulent wild duckling to follow (the 'Sarcelle', according to Mr Google, is the smallest wild freshwater duck in Europe). Although there's no indication of how this was cooked, I'm betting on it being either a Magret de Canard (roasted duck breast) or a Confit de Canard (confit duck leg) - these being the two most common and traditional methods of serving duck in France.

There was more duck to follow: a duck liver paté with a Salade Française (perhaps a green salad with a vinaigrette dressing?).

My grandmother enjoyed cakes and sweet things, so I'm thinking she probably would have made room for Peach Melba, and - oh, maybe just one of the petits fours that were served with coffee and Cognac.

Certainly, if she was anything like me, she would  have been able to down at least one liqueur - after the Cognac - and (unlike me) being a lifelong smoker, she would have welcomed an elegant French cigarette to finish.







It sounds like an amazingly special evening - and indeed it seems that Gracie, Kenneth and their friends, Lucie Dupont and Mr Dupont (he of the indecipherable initial) also thought it was pretty special; because they each signed the menu, and my Grandmother kept it all her life.















This ephemeral trace of a memorable meal was kept perfectly preserved amongst a batch of pictures, papers and memories until with a flourish, my father pulled it out and showed it to me - eighty-nine years and three months later.

Now, as I promised earlier, I'm on a mission to recreate elements of this menu. That's the kind of culinary challenge I really enjoy. I'm not going to be prissy about it: I'm going to try to stick to the descriptions, but create my own dishes to fit the brief. Today I'm going to experiment with the first two courses....









Huitres, Thon, Olives 
Oysters, Tuna, Olives)

Tuna, oysters and olives are all brought together by lemon, so that became the central additional flavour.

I bought some lovely fresh Tasmanian oysters. It's pretty hard to improve a good oyster with cooking, so these are au naturel, with a wedge of lemon and a sprinkle of pepper.

 For the thon, I decided on a seared tuna log - with lemon zest and a scattering of finely-chopped black olives with a line of mayonnaise and some lemon zest.

(Secretly, I also sprinkled some soy and mirin dressing over the tuna before putting the mayo on.)

Potage Pointes d'Adperges (Asparagus soup)
In my quest to be all French about an asparagus soup, I found some lovely French recettes online. I then found that my French vocab was not entirely up to the task. I was forced to abandon Mr Google and venture upstairs to fetch the trusty Gasc's Concise French Dictionary.

This was a depressing experience. The first realisation brought to me by Monsieur Gasc was that I need glasses. The second was that 'crabe' does indeed mean 'crab', despite that being a totally unexpected ingredient. I abandoned that recette and decided to make up my own.

 Asparagus soup recette
Makes approx 250ml
(Four servings of 65ml to fill 4 custard cups, as pictured here, with a liquid volume of a short black coffee)

15-16 large asparagus stalks
500 ml vegetable stock
2 tsp double cream
pepper to taste
1 tsp finely diced tomato, to garnish

Cut the asparagus stalks into pieces of about 3 cm, discarding the very ends of the stalks and making sure to trim the heads off neatly (you will use some of these to garnish).






Heat the vegetable stock until simmering and add the asparagus. Simmer for several minutes, then remove and blanch four of the asparagus heads. Slice these in half lengthwise and set aside.

Continue simmering the asparagus in the stock until soft, approximately10 minutes. Set aside to cool for a few minutes, then put the asparagus pieces, with a small amount of the stock, through a blender or food processor until smooth.


Pass this mixture through a sieve to remove the remaining pulp. Test the texture - if it's too thick, add a little more of the stock to thin it down.

Stir in the cream and season with pepper to taste. Serve warm or cold.

When serving, pour the soup into the serving cups or glasses and drop a single tiny dollop of cream into the centre. Swirl this with a fork (above), or garnish with a couple of the halved asparagus stalks and a teaspoon of the cubed tomato pieces.


Now, I know that this is leaving you somewhat in the lurch, but I am stopping here and will be continuing the menu at various unexpected times in the future.

Thank you for reading and please enjoy!








Tuesday, 3 September 2013

Tasmania's seafood (and Dr Cupcake's total obsession with it)

It's time for Dr Cupcake to depart from the normal theme of sweet things, and venture into some more savoury territory. There is a very good reason for this: the amazing quality and abundance of fresh fish and seafood in the marvellous island of Tasmania which I'm lucky enough to call home.


Tasmania was into seafood in a big way long before it was cool. My Dad, hailing from Melbourne, was mystified to discover 'scallop pies' on an early trip to Tasmania in the 1950s - he'd never had a scallop before. Now, scallops appear on every truly ritzy menu in the world... and country pubs in Tasmania STILL have 'Scallop Pie' as a popular special on their blackboards. What a place.

Tasmania's seafood scene is not just about scallops. If you're lucky enough to live here, you're presented with a wild abundance of cheap, fresh-caught or sustainably-farmed mussels, oysters, squid and octopus, salmon (fresh or beautifully hot or cold smoked), trevalla (or blue eye), stripey trumpeter and sashimi grade tuna. No wonder that Japanese luminary chefs like Tetsuya Wakuda come to hang out here - and that the brilliant Maasaki Koyama, in a cultural twist of fate, has set up the most amazing sushi shop in Geeveston, Tasmania's Deep South. I actually plan my life around Maasaki's attendance at the Hobart Farmer's Market... his occasional use of fresh sea urchin roe, trumpeter and other incredible sashimi goodies makes the market the best place to be.

If you've made it this far I'll assume you're a convert and talk openly about my obsession with smoked salmon, which is quite possibly the most heavenly food in existence. Its amazing mix of salty tang, its shimmering coral colour, its soft but firm texture is truly special. I have yet to come across anyone who doesn't like it - although apparently, Scottish indentured workers in the nineteenth century got so sick of eating smoked salmon that many of them had it written into their contracts that they could be given it a maximum of once a week. 

Here is my homage to Tasmania's seafood bounty - a few pictures and descriptions that come mostly from my own imagination and occasionally borrowed from others - hopefully they will inspire you, whereever you are, to look at seafood again and remember that it's not 'difficult'. Instead think 'I can do that!' And enjoy the wonder of the sea...

Salmon three ways. 

From top, clockwise:

Hot-smoked salmon with rocket, avocado, lemon juice and olive oil.

A teaspoon of hand milked salmon caviar, with a dollop of creme fraiche and a sprig of dill.

Whisky cured smoked salmon with a salad of purple carrot, bean spouts, radish and shaved lettuce, with an asian hot sour dressing.


Squid ink fettucine marinara. 

Home made fettucine with squid ink, topped with Tasmanian king prawns, scallops and mussels with Italian parsley. A light dressing of olive oil and garlic.

















Seafood tasting plate (1)

Clockwise from top:
Hot smoked salmon with pea spout on a cracker.
Finger of cold whisky-smoked salmon with pesto.
King prawns with fresh basil and mayo.
Scallop in shell with pepper and dill.
Honey-cured smoked salmon slices on creme fraiche.
King prawn with lime wedge.

(Centre)
Bunch of redcurrants.



Seafood tasting plate (2)

A slightly simpler iteration, using very similar ingredients than above.

Clockwise from top:

Hot smoked salmon with a dill and pepper yoghurt.
Rolls of whisky cured salmon with mustardini (mustard sprouts).
Shards of Italian croccantini garnished with viola flower.
Salmon caviar with lemon wedge and pea sprout.

Baby whiting fillets, crumbed and fried

For anyone who says Tasmanian seafood isn't cheap... It cost $1.20 to buy these little whiting (at least, I think that's what they were).

They were sold as whole fish, and yes, they needed to be scaled, gutted and filleted. But I got the amazing Rohan to do the scaling and gutting, and it took me about a minute (and a very sharp knife) to fillet them.

They were completely awesome when crumbed and pan fried, served with a few lemon wedges, parsley and tartare.

An entree for two = $2.50 (including the lemon).
As a main? $5 for two. Now, THAT'S cheap. I love Tassie.

Seafood chowder. 

Tasmanian fresh-caught prawns, mussels and scallops, cooked in a thick broth of Tasmanian Dutch Cream potatoes, fish stock, and fresh Italian parsley.

And LOTS of pepper.














Seared tuna with daikon. 

Sashimi grade tuna served two ways:

(Bottom of plate) Ribbon of sashimi tuna, sparsely sprinkled with soy sesame dressing.

(Middle of plate) Seared tuna, coated in toasted sesame seeds and sprinkled with nigella seeds, on a bed of shaved daikon radish, with a soy sesame dressing. Lime, pickled ginger and wasabi on the side.










I hope you've enjoyed this little journey through the fabulous seafood of this island... Please, go out and experiment... find your own unique and wonderful way to enjoy the fruits of the sea!

Monday, 3 June 2013

Announcing... A new Dr Cupcake Workshop!

Yes - it's another brand spanking new DR CUPCAKE WORKSHOP!

*****DATE CHANGE*****

Dr Cupcake's Portrait Workshop will teach you how to make three fantastic little cupcake 'portraits'.



Come along and learn how to make expressive and engaging 'faces' using fondant icing, and take three amazing cupcakes away with you at the end of the workshop to gift to friends or keep.

The possibilities are endless!!





And, while we only have time to create three portraits on the day, the skills you learn will allow you to adapt hairstyles, expressions and features to make any portraits your heart desires!
So come along, learn a new skill and have a fabulous afternoon full of fun and cupcakes!



 Location:  Salamanca Arts Centre Meeting Room, Salamanca Place, Hobart
Date: TO BE CONFIRMED (Winter, 2013)

Time: TO BE CONFIRMED

Cost: $60 adult, $45 under 18 or concession

What to bring: yourself and an apron. Cupcakes, equipment and everything else is provided.

Bookings and further information / date confirmation: email wootton.astrid@gmail.com

Be quick - spaces are limited!


Saturday, 13 April 2013

Citrus fusion: an orange marmalade cake with lemon glacé icing

I've made this orange cake before but I've never combined it with lemon glacé icing before. It turned out to be the perfect combination. The cake is dense, rich and syrupy, and the tangy, thin icing cuts through the richness perfectly.

I decorated it with a few fondant flowers. This is a simple, plain sort of cake, and you don't want to get too fancy with the decoration. A few flowers are fine.








This recipe is very simple:

Ingredients:
3 eggs
100g ground almonds
50g caster sugar
1 tsp baking powder
175g orange marmalade


Preheat oven to 180C and grease a loaf tin. Beat the eggs with an electric beater for five minutes, until they are thick and creamy.

Then add all the dry ingredients and the marmalade, and fold through the egg mixture until well combined.

You should end up with a foamy, loose mixture. Pour into the tin and put into the oven immediately. Bake for 30-35 minutes or until a skewer stuck into the centre comes out clean. If the cake starts to brown too much on top before being ready, cover its top with foil and reduce the oven heat a little.






The cake will rise, then sink in the middle - to get a flat top on the cake, reverse it when taking it out of the tin.







Glacé icing:

200g icing sugar
1 -2 tblsp lemon juice
lemon zest (if desired)

Mix the juice in with the icing sugar and stir until smooth. Adjust for desired thickness/runniness by adding more juice or more sugar.


When cake is cold, dollop the icing onto the cake and smooth it out with a spatula. I like mine to run down the sides of the cake in some droplets and look a little home-made and rustic - use lots of icing for this look.














For the fondant flowers, if using, you'll need some coloured fondant, a small rolling pin and some flower shaped cutters.

Roll out a small piece of fondant, using cornflour to prevent it sticking. Stamp the fondant with the cutters, then add a cachou to the centre of each flower, fixing it with a drop of water.






Once made, these flowers will last for months in an airtight container. Make sure they're completely dry before sealing the container, though, or the flowers may go soft.

A small amount of fondant will make lots of flowers, so it's worthwhile doing a big batch once in a while and keeping them for use in decorating.











That's it for the orange marmalade cake - good luck and happy eating from Dr Cupcake!