A sweet pleasure

One of the best ways to learn about fruit and vegetables is to grow your own. Each season, I enjoy choosing what to grow, nurturing the seedlings and eagerly anticipating when the first crop will be ready for picking and tasting. There's something so satisfying about wandering out to the vegetable patch and being able to pluck some parsley for a garnish, snip off a few lettuce leaves to make a fresh salad, or using your own passionfruit to flavour a sponge.

Growing your own also allows you to enjoy fresh produce at the height of its season, which is one of life's great pleasures. I'd love to be able to eat my favourite fruit and vegetables year-round but most of the enjoyment comes from the fact that the joy of fresh, seasonal produce is so fleeting. The range of produce stocked in supermarkets could fool you into thinking that there's no such thing as seasons anymore, although the watery, joyless taste of out-of-season or imported produce will convince you that it's best to wait until the local season is underway. Understanding and working with the seasons is a good lesson for life in general; I don't think I would enjoy raspberries quite so much if I could eat them every day.

As children, my sisters and I were allowed to choose something to grow ourselves. I always chose sweetcorn and radishes. I loved watching the corn climb against the trellis and the little ears of corn swell into plump cobs. And I loved pulling out clumps of bright red radishes, washing them under the tap and then eating them, although I also loved the little radish flowers that mum made to garnish our salads.

Our little herb and vegetable garden has suffered terribly during this summer's scorching weather. But thankfully my local greengrocer has a great range of fabulous fresh fruit and vegetables and this has come to our rescue. Even though I'm no longer growing my own sweetcorn, it remains one of my favourite things to eat: I can't think of anything more delicious than a cob of sweet and juicy corn, freshly picked, lightly cooked and smothered in melting butter.

Home-grown corn is the best you can have, as sweetcorn begins to deteriorate from the moment it's picked. But my local greengrocer has a good fresh range and it's an acceptable substitute. I've always eaten my corn fairly simply - either lightly boiled and smothered in butter, in a rich corn chowder soup, or perhaps mixed with bacon to make simple fritters. But now, thanks to Molly from Orangette., I've discovered a wonderful, sublimely simple way to enjoy corn and I've been cooking it non-stop since I first tasted it.

Molly has been blogging at Orangette for quite a few years now (and actually has just released a book) but I've only just discovered her wonderful blog, which is very inspiring and impressive in both her descriptions and photos of food. Molly featured this burnt butter corn recipe in 2007, which is based on a recipe from The New York Times. It's barely a recipe, however, but more of an idea: corns kernels, freshly shaved from a cob, are cooked in nutty melted butter with some lemon thyme and salt, and then scattered with fresh parsley. The corn is sweet and nutty and the herbs and salt add an extra dimension of flavour. I've adapted this recipe to Australian tastes.

Brown Buttered Corn

Adapted from a recipe featured on Orangette, 17 September 2007

3 cobs of corn, shucked
3 tablespoons butter, preferably unsalted
4 sprigs thyme, preferably lemon thyme
Salt
Finely chopped parsley, for serving

Stand each corn cob vertically on a chopping board and run a large knife down to remove the kernels (or use a shallow wooden or plastic bowl, as the kernels are likely to spray all over the bench, and this will help contain them). Use the back of the knife to scrape the bare cob and release the juices. Set kernels and juices aside.

Melt the butter in a frypan over medium heat. Add the thyme sprigs and cook, stirring frequently, under the butter turns a deep amber shade and smells nutty. Add the kernels, juices and a large pinch of salt and stir well. Cover, reduce heat to medium-low and cook for about five minutes, or until the corn is tender. Remove and discard the thyme sprigs, season to taste with salt, scatter over parsley and serve.

How do you take your coffee?

The coffee revolution has not yet begun, according to international coffee expert Stephen Hurst.

Mr Hurst, the founder of specialty coffee company Mercanta The Coffee Hunters, says the future for coffee lies in developing a premium market and highlighting the characteristics of different coffee beans in a way similar to wine.

Even water has been marketed in terms of different flavour characteristics and a premium water market has emerged, he said.

"It's amazing that coffee has not been differentiated in a premium way yet," Mr Hurst told a gathering of coffee lovers at Melbourne caffeine temple St Ali.

"The future will be in flavour discovery: single estate and single varietals of coffee beans."

Despite Melbourne's strong coffee culture, he said coffee lovers often remained uninformed on the origins of the coffee served and how it was selected by suppliers. And the concept of single estate, or single origin specialty coffee, rather than industrial blends, is also new to Australia, he said.

Mr Hurst said the existence of futures markets for coffee has "commoditised" the product and there is a false assumption that coffee is "generic", as if every bag from a single origin or country somehow tastes the same. He said good coffee needed to start from a good basis and that was with the green beans.

"The quality of the coffee is in the beans. Everyone has their own idea of what a specialty coffee is but if you roast good beans well and serve it well, that's specialty coffee," he said.

Mr Hurst founded his company Mercanta The Coffee Hunters in 1996 and supplies fine coffees to specialty coffee roasters around the world. He is also involved with the Cup of Excellence, a competition that selects the very best coffee produced in a particular country each year.

Contrary to popular business wisdom, Mr Hurst believes that the customer is not king when it comes to choosing the best coffee.

"Customers don't have the tools to make a good choice." he said.

"They ask for coffee that they've read about or heard about. There's a lot of things about coffee that are not understood. The baristas should be advising clients what to buy."

Mr Hurst said that fine quality coffee does cost more and acknowledged that it would be difficult to sell more expensive coffee, especially given the current economic climate.

This, to me, was one of the most interesting points of the night and got me thinking about our relationship with coffee: why do we drink it? For some people, it's because of addiction and they need a caffeine hit to start the day. For others, drinking coffee is a social thing to do, a pleasant way to pass the time or something to do while conducting a meeting or catching up with friends. Others enjoy going to new cafes and sampling different coffees.

We're fortunate in Melbourne because we have a strong coffee and cafe culture. In general, Melburnians are quite knowledgeable about coffee and we're fortunate that it's not hard to find excellent coffee. People are quite particular about their favourite type, whether it's a skinny latte or a macchiato, and more dedicated caffeine fiends have favourite cafes, and even favourite baristas.

But coffee is also a drink that's often consumed on the go, in take-away cups, or slurped down in a hurry before catching a train or rushing to the next meeting. It's not always savoured in the same way a glass of fine wine might be.

Is there a market in Melbourne for more expensive coffee? Would the average punter, despite our good coffee knowledge, be able to discern the difference between their usual flat white and one that's made with a single origin coffee bean? If you can get a good cup of coffee for $3, are you likely to pay $6 or $8 for a coffee that uses so-called superior beans?

I love my coffee, and I've learnt a lot about it through studying a barista course and reviewing for the Melbourne Coffee Guide. But I'm not sure that I would be persuaded to pay double the price for a coffee made with single origin beans - and definitely not for every cup of coffee I consume. I haven't yet tasted any coffee made from these specialty beans, and I may change my mind once I do so - perhaps it really is obviously superior to the blends currently offered. I agree that you often pay a price for a premium product but do we want to be drinking premium beans every time we grab a coffee? It's like drinking Grange at every meal.

There's also so much more that goes into a coffee than just the beans - the machine, the temperature, the milk and especially the barista can all make a difference. In fact, the barista's talent is the biggest variable of them all and even the best green beans in the world will not save a poor barista from making bad coffee.

Still, anything that increases our knowledge, and our choices, about coffee is a good thing, so it will be interesting to see how the concept of single origin beans slots into the current market.

Farewell to summer

I bought popsicle moulds at my sister's Tupperware party. It seemed like an odd purchase, since I can't think when I ever had a hankering to make popsicles, but these moulds were a cheery, egg-yolk yellow with orange bottoms and a bright green popsicle stick. They looked happy and fun, even if I wasn't sure that I was going to use them. They also reminded me of my childhood, as mum had a similar set, except hers were a boring plain white plastic (Tupperware has really sexed up its colours since the 1970s!)

Rather than just admiring the pretty colours of the moulds, I thought I should use them before summer's long, hot, ice-cream-friendly days disappeared for the year. There's still some dangerously hot conditions forecast for the next few days (and here's praying that there's no repeat of the truly horrendous Black Saturday of 7 February) but there's also an autumnal tone to the days, a slight chill in the morning and a mellowing at dusk, and it won't be long before I'm longing for hot puddings instead of freshly made ice-cream.

So, to celebrate the end of the season, I bought a punnet of raspberries and pureed them. I pushed the puree through a strainer to get rid of the seeds and swirled the puree prettily through a mixture of natural yoghurt and caster sugar. I spooned this mixture into the moulds, put them in the freezer and only a few hours later had an icy treat ready to go. For a spur-of-the-moment indulgence, frozen yoghurt hits the spot: ice-cream requires you to pre-freeze the ice-cream maker's bowl and make and chill an eggy custard to form the base.

The sour tang of the natural yoghurt balanced nicely with the slightly tart raspberries, and these two strong flavours were united and softened by a little addition of caster sugar. You could use a number of combinations of pureed fruit to make a similar popsicle; you could even make two types - say raspberry and mango - to make lovely striped popsicles.

I'm reluctant to give precise measurements for these popsicles, as I just used what was in the fridge and mixed it together. I had a 250ml tub of yoghurt, a 125g punnet of raspberries and I added about 50g of caster sugar. You could use more or less of any ingredient to suit your own tastes and size of popsicle moulds. I think this mixture would also successfully freeze in a metal container and could then be scooped out into bowls or cones.

Daring Bakers challenge - chocolate valentino cake

Ah, February, the month of love. And the Daring Bakers rose to the occasion, with hosts Wendy and Dharm nominating a decadent flourless chocolate valentino cake as our project.

The valentino cake, inspired by Malaysia’s “most flamboyant food ambassador”, Chef Wan, comes from his book Sweet Treats. It is a simple composition of three ingredients: chocolate, butter and eggs. Part of the wondrous chemistry of cooking is that these three ingredients can be transformed, through melting, mixing and baking, into a dense, fudgy cake with a similar texture to a brownie. The finished cake tastes exactly like the chocolate that you use, so it is wise to use the best-quality chocolate (and indeed the other ingredients) that you can afford.

To make the cake, melt together 450g of chocolate and 150g of butter. Separate five eggs; add the egg yolks to the chocolate mix, then beat the egg whites to peaks and fold into the chocolate batter, pour into a tin and bake. The recipe called for the cake to be baked at 190 degrees for about 25 minutes but my cake took about 35 minutes. It is not a particularly attractive cake when unmoulded, with a cracked, misshapen top, but this is one cake where the attraction is in the taste, not the looks. I used dark Belgium chocolate for the cake, as I love its deep, rich, bittersweet tones.

Wendy and Dharm gave us the option of making vanilla ice-cream to their recipes, or choosing a recipe of our own. I elected to make coffee ice-cream, as coffee and dark chocolate is one of my favourite combinations. I made a basic custard, whisking egg yolks, caster sugar and a smidgen of cornflour together, before adding scalded milk and stirring over heat until thick. I made a cup of strong espresso coffee which I cooled and added to the custard. Once chilled, I added thick cream and churned it all in my ice-cream machine.

We don't really do anything special for Valentine's Day, but it is Adam's birthday a few days later, so I made this for the family gathering. The cake and ice-cream both received a rapturous reception. A heart-shaped tin is required to make a "proper" valentino cake but I don't own one, so made this cake in a round cake tin and served it in small wedges with a scoop of coffee ice-cream to the side. The cake was very rich and the coffee ice-cream provided a perfect foil. This is a rich dessert cake that requires an accompaniment; it is too rich and dark for afternoon tea, or to have on its own. The original recipe suggested serving the cake with whipped cream but this would be too insipid for my liking; I think it needs a strong, but complementary, flavour to match its assertive tones.

I really liked this cake and it is a simple, but impressive, dessert. The only drawback is the expense of the cake, as it requires a lot of chocolate. But it is worth splashing out if you want a grand chocolate finale to your dinner party. Thanks to Wendy and Dharm for this fun challenge!

The February 2009 challenge is hosted by Wendy of WMPE's blog and Dharm of Dad ~ Baker & Chef.
We have chosen a Chocolate Valentino cake by Chef Wan; a Vanilla Ice Cream recipe from Dharm and a Vanilla Ice Cream recipe from Wendy as the challenge.

Tampering with tradition

Today I bought my first hot cross bun for this year. Easter doesn't seem close but Lent has started, so I figure I'm entitled to have a hot cross bun now. Even though they've been in the shops for weeks, I've resisted. It's unseemly how quickly hot cross buns flood into supermarkets after Christmas, as if the supermarket conglomerates and marketing whizzes can't wait for us to get over one festival before focusing on the next.

I love hot cross buns but I'm a stickler for tradition. Some plump sultanas and a hint of rich spice are what make hot cross buns special for me. But today I've discovered that the hot cross bun has undergone a dazzling makeover to bring it into the modern era. I was offered the choice of the "traditional" (how dowdy and dismissive that word sounds when used in this context), the chocolate chip version, or this year's new offering, the mocha hot cross bun.

Why? What marketing guru came up with this idea? If I want chocolate chips, I'll eat a biscuit. If I want coffee, I'll drink it. It may be old-fashioned but I can't see the point in tampering with traditional recipes just for the sake of it. There's nothing wrong with modernising or improving recipes but sometimes the quest for something new or different goes too far. The hot cross bun is not a plain bun, so why the need to cram more ingredients into it? Why not just develop a sweet mocha bun, rather than adding this flavouring to the humble hot cross bun?

Making changes to take account of modern ingredients and tastes is fine but I can't stand meddling for the sake of it. Is offering three types of hot cross buns part of capitalism's never-ending thirst for new, fresh ways to entice us to hand over our cash? Has our modern palate become so jaded that we need sensory overload to awaken it?

An indulgent breakfast

Pancakes make me happy. They make me especially happy when they are light, fluffy buttermilk pancakes doused in maple syrup and served with crisp, salty bacon on the side. Could there be any better start to the day?

Much as I love them, pancakes are not something I could eat every day. They are special because they are a rare treat. But they must be made well; there's nothing more disappointing than a flat, tasteless, rubbery pancake.

Pancakes, pikelets, crepes, galettes, blinis, hotcakes ... there are many variations on what is essentially a simple mixture of flour, eggs and milk. It can be as simple as a pikelet fresh from the frying pan, slathered in melting butter and a dollop of good raspberry jam, as elegant as a buckwheat blini topped with smoked salmon and creme fraiche, or my favourite indulgent breakfast of buttermilk pancakes as described above. Some of my favourite breakfasts around Melbourne are based on pancakes: ricotta hotcakes with lemon curd and strawberries at Replete Providore in Hawthorn, or ricotta hotcakes with lavender ice-cream and poached pears (as served at the Rathdowne St Food Store). And I have very fond memories of eating galettes with cider in Brittany in France. I was almost tempted to bring home my very own galette pan until its heavy weight put me off. Fraus in North Melbourne do a perfectly acceptable version though.

Shrove Tuesday is always a good excuse for me to make up pancake batter. Adam and I have developed our own Shrove Tuesday tradition of buttermilk pancakes with bacon and maple syrup for breakfast and it's something we look forward to. The ultimate pancake recipe for me is the buttermilk pancakes from Stephanie Alexander's The Cook's Companion and I've written before about how much I love these pancakes. The buttermilk gives the pancakes a light and fluffy texture. They are neither sweet nor savoury but take on the flavours of what you choose to serve with them.

Most importantly, the batter is a simple concoction and can be mostly prepared the night before. The next morning, you only need to whip up eggwhites and fold into the batter, so these pancakes can be just as easily prepared on a workday as they can on a lazy weekend morning.

Go ahead and indulge yourself, whether it's Shrove Tuesday or not; it's worth it.

Cookbook review: In the Kitchen

Thanks to a combination of Christmas presents and bookshop gift vouchers, I've been able to add to my cookbook collection. I didn't need to add to my already burgeoning collection but I just couldn't resist some of the new titles on offer. I'll be reviewing my new cookbooks over the coming weeks. The first one is In The Kitchen by Allan Campion and Michele Curtis.

Allan and Michele are well-known to Melburnians, with The Foodies Diary and The Foodies Guide to Melbourne being just two of their regular publications. I've never bought the diary but I have several previous editions of the Foodies Guide and it's a great treasure-trove of information. If you need to know where to source food items, whether it's buttery croissants, unusual Asian vegetables, decadent chocolates or Spanish food stores, this book has all the information you need. It's a great way to make new discoveries and find out places worth crossing town for. It was through this book that I discovered the wonderful Frank's Bakery in Elsternwick, where the sourdough bread is a perennial favourite of mine.

I also have a copy of Campion and Curtis's Everyday Cooking, which has had plenty of use and can always be relied upon to provide a recipe when I'm running short of inspiration or need a quick but tasty weeknight meal.

When I saw In The Kitchen, which has more than 1000 recipes and weighs more than 2kg, I thought I really couldn't justify another cookbook, especially one of this size. But when I flicked through the book, I found that there was a recipe on practically every page that I wanted to try, so of course the book came home with me.

The chapters are divided into food types or meals for easy reference; for example brunch, starters, soups, everyday dinners, curries and tagines, cakes and lunchbox ideas. Each recipe is accompanied by a breezy little note that explains the recipe and perhaps a hint to its provenance, gives some reassuring comments about the difficulty or otherwise of the recipe, or provides alternative ingredients to jazz up or dress down the original recipe. I like the personal and reassuring tone of the book, which will comfort less-assured cooks, as it feels like a good friend is standing there with you in the kitchen and guiding you through the recipe.

Many of the dishes use everyday ingredients found in a well-stocked larder and many are both family-friendly and suitable for quick weeknight dinners. There's also more glamorous recipes for dinner parties or special occasions but, again, many of these recipes don't use specialist or unusual ingredients but rely on good lateral thinking or the pairing of complementary ingredients (such as dates with blue cheese).

So far, I've trialled several of the cake recipes and the one-pot chocolate cake recipe is alone worth the price of the book. The introduction to the recipe says "This has to be the best, most simple chocolate cake in the whole world" and I agree. Only a pot, a wooden spoon and a cake tin are required to make this fudgy cake, which is elevated above everyday status with the addition of good strong coffee. The flavours of this cake improve with age and it is a cake that I know I'll make again and again. The friends who were my guinea-pigs when I tried this cake were so delighted with it that they immediately requested the recipe.

I've also made the gingerbread cake, which is a cinch to whip up and is ready within 30 minutes, making it perfect for an unplanned morning or afternoon tea. The double chocolate chip biscuits satisfy any sweet cravings without an unnecessary trip to the supermarket (as the double chocolate hit comes from chocolate chips and cocoa, rather than chocolate chips and melted chocolate).

From the savoury chapters, I can report that the southern fried chicken is easy and delicious, with none of the fat or greasy skin that you would get from the commercial fast-food version, and that the oven chips are to die for.

I've bookmarked many other recipes to try, particularly stews and soups for when the weather turns colder. In The Kitchen is full of many recipes that will become classics in your own kitchen because the delicious final result belies the simplicity of the technique. We don't need to be highly trained chefs to eat well and these recipes will help launch novice cooks on their way, as well as providing more experienced cooks with plenty of recipes to extend their repertoire. I highly recommend this cookbook.

In The Kitchen is published by Hardie Grant Books.