Here’s the easiest, yummiest thing you can do with fresh kale: wash and dry the leaves and strip them from their stems (discard stems), tearing leaves into smallish pieces. In a large bowl, whisk a good  of evoo, juice of half a lemon, a little flaky sea salt and black pepper. Add the kale into the bowl and massage the dressing into the leaves. No namby pambying, you want to bruise the leaves, darkening them a little and breaking down the toughness. The result? The kale is still crisp but not at all thick and rubbery, and the simple flavours of the dressing are nicely embedded in each piece of kale. When I get some cavalo nero coming up in my garden this season I’ll try this technique with that, too.

This kale salad is a great refresher to serve with roast meats this winter, or of course you could add myriad other seasonal, crunchy things to make a salad that’s a meal of its own.

 Where to buy kale? Produce and farmer’s markets, Nosh and Farro, and organics stores are your best bet. NZ supermarkets don’t often seem to stock kale, but this may change as the leafy green continues its rise to superfood stardom. New World Victoria Park, whose range is way posher than most supermarkets, stocks a really good organic kale, $3.99 for a big bag.

I’m potato chip (crisp, whatever you want to call it) addict, so I love anything that equals or even trumps the savoury hit that chips offer, but without all the crappy additives and preservatives. Having said that – check out the wildly different ingredients lists on a bag of ready salted chips compared to anything flavoured (roast lamb in a chip, anyone? And I’ll bet there’s nothing remotely related to lamb in there). While I could never admit that salt and vinegar is anything but the king of chips, ready salted can stand proud with its mere three or so ingredients.

I digress. I’m here to tell you about a delicious little snack I’ve been making. All you do is toast whatever nuts and seeds you like, in a hot heavy pan, with a little olive oil and paprika – I use both smoked and sweet. When everything’s nicely golden, take off the heat, sprinkle over some flaky sea salt and devour. Well, wait a wee bit or you’ll burn your tongue into numbness. In the pic above I used blanched almonds and sunflower seeds, which, combined with the paprika, had me feeling all Spanish. Perfect with a crisp cerveza.

I also like to toast seeds (a good mix is sunflower, sesame, pumpkin, linseed) with a little soy sauce, and once cool, store in a jar either for snacking on or throwing into salads.

Best place to buy nuts and seeds? Bulk Savings in Eden Valley has a great range with a lot of organic options, and you can’t beat the several Indian grocers’ in Sandrigham for price.

I whipped this up in no more than 15 minutes for dinner tonight. It was one of those evenings: function after work (Lewisham Awards finalists announcements – congrats to all and well done) then schlep through thick traffic to pick up the kids who were, as one would expect at 6pm, very ready for a feed.

Of course I hadn’t defrosted the chicken stock I had made just days earlier, so I made an instant but really flavoursome broth instead. This makes about 4 decent servings:

In a large pot, heat 3 cups or so of water. Add 1 tsp ground ginger, 1 tsp sugar, 1 tsp white pepper a generous dash of soy sauce and a little less of Chinese black vinegar, 2 cloves garlic, chopped. Bring to the boil then lower in 400g chicken breast (whole). Turn down to a steady simmer and let chicken poach for 10 minutes. In the meantime slice 1 zucchini, 2 large field mushrooms. Throw the veges in to the broth to cook. Using tongs, pluck out the almost-cooked chicken breast (it’s been in for 10 mins now) and pop on chopping board. Now throw in 3 bundles of buckwheat soba. Slice chicken (will still be pink in the centre) before returning to broth. Cook for another 2-3 minutes till cooked through and soba are al dente. Ladle broth into bowls and use tongs to make sure each bowl has a good amount of noodles, chicken and veges. Add a wad of baby spinach leaves to each bowl, and some finely sliced red chilli. Drizzle over some sesame oil and serve.

NOTES

You can tell this is a “make with what you got” recipe. Use whatever suitable veges you have kicking around. Oyster mushrooms would be superior to field here, and Asian greens like bok choi would of course work well, as would a garnish of bean sprouts.

Because you’re cooking the chicken and the starchy  soba in the broth that you’re going to serve, you’re going to get a little scum round the edges of the pot. It won’t hurt you.

Soak 1 1/2 cups of dried dates and 1/4 cup goji berries in a little boiling water to soften slightly. Drain well and place in the bowl of a large food processor. Add 1/2 cup sunflower seeds, 1/4 cup black chia seeds, 1 Tbsp good quality cocoa, or raw cacao powder (I used Green & Blacks), 1 Tbsp cacao nibs, 1 Tbsp coconut butter or coconut oil.

Process everything on high, or pulse, until as smooth as you can get it. Roll into balls and store between layers of waxed paper to prevent sticking.

NOTES

I’d like to roll the balls in desiccated coconut, but I have a coconut-hater in the house.

The chia seed and cacao nibs are too small to break down in a regular processor so they give these balls a bit of crunch. If you like smoother balls (aaa ha ha), omit or grind them in a spice/coffee grinder before adding to the mix.

I’d generally use chicken thighs rather than breasts for dishes like this, but I couldn’t get boneless thighs this time. Basting the breasts with the juices more than a few times kept them moist and my fear of bone-dry breast was avoided.

1 kilo free-range chicken breasts

3 medium peppers (I used yellow and green), sliced thickly

2 onions, cut into wedges

1 preserved lemon, skin only, rinsed and sliced finely

2 mandarins or clementines, sliced into thin wheels

1/2 cup green olives

2 Tbsp ras el hanout (I used Equagold)

Drizzle a good glug of olive oil in the base of a roasting dish and warm in the oven. Cut the breasts into single portions and roll in the ras el hanout to coat. Place all the ingredients in the warm roasting dish, grind over some salt and pepper, pour in a little water (no more than 1/4 cup) and place in the oven preheated to 165 degrees Celsius. Bake for about 45 minutes, but take it out at least three times to turn over and baste chicken pieces with juices. You should find the juices increase but if for some reason it’s running dry, just add a bit more water. Once chicken is cooked through but still moist, remove and taste for seasoning. You can then stir through some herbs of your choice – I used coriander but dill would work well here too. Serve with a nice big salad and  couscous or rice. I made yellow rice – caramelized onion, basmati and little vermicelli pieces steamed with turmeric.

-Preheat oven to 180 degrees Celsius.

-Take one medium size butternut squash and cut about 3/4 of it into small chunks, removing the stringy bits and seeds from the centre. You’re aiming for about 3 cups of butternut. Keep the remaining 1/4 of the squash for something else, or leave it to a sad, slow demise in the bottom of the vege crisper like I did.

-Place the butternut pieces into a large food processor and process until finely chopped. This doesn’t take long at all. Into the processor add 2 eggs, 1/2 cup raw sugar, 1/4 cup date syrup*, 1 1/4 cup flour, 1.5 tsp cinnamon, pinch salt, 2 tsp baking powder, 100ml olive oil. Process it all until just combined. Chop about 60g each dark and white chocolate into generous chunks and stir into the batter with a spatula.

-Spoon the batter into greased muffin trays and bake for 10-15 minutes  for mini size, or 20 minutes for larger muffins, until an inserted skewer comes out clean.

* I often use date syrup to replace some sugar where I think it will work. You can buy it from Middle Eastern grocers’. You could use other natural sweeteners instead or just up the raw sugar amount.

It may have been the entrance of proper autumnal weather today, it may have been Anzac Day on the horizon, whatever it was, my mind turned to chewy, oaty, golden syrupy cookies today and I had to act on it. These are a take on a traditional Anzac biscuit recipe, but I’ve added goji berries, pine nuts, golden linseed and black chia seeds to make them a bit more exciting. I must admit I’m not much of a measurer in the kitchen – yes, even when baking, tut, tut…. so my measurements here are not entirely, absolutely, unquestionably exact. But bahhh, biscuits are the forgiving souls of the baking world. That’s why I’m all about the them. This recipe makes about 24 average size biscuits.

-Preheat oven to 180 degrees.

-In a saucepan, melt 140g butter, 30g golden syrup and 30g date syrup (or just 60g golden syrup if you don’t have the date stuff)

-In a large mixing bowl, combine 2/3 cup plain flour, 1/2 cup wholemeal flour, 1 1/4 cups rolled oats (not instant oats!), 1/2 cup raw sugar, 1/3 cup pine nuts, 1/4 cup golden linseed, 2 Tbsp black chia seed.

-Boil kettle and a little of the boiling water to soak 1/3 cup goji berries for a few mins until soft.

-Dissolve 1 tsp baking soda in 2 Tbsp of boiling water, then stir into the melted butter and syrup – watch it go all foamy; that’s a bit exciting!

-Drain goji berries and stir into flour mix, then pour in the butter mix and stir until everything is combined. It’s a pretty buttery mix, but that’s why they taste so damn good in the end….Plop spoonfuls onto a baking tray and flatten slightly. Bake for about 12-15 minutes until golden and fragrant. Remove tray from oven but don’t try to shift the biscuits yet you impatient fool! They’re a bit flimsy to start with. Let them cool just a bit then transfer to a rack to cool completely.

I’m not a big pumpkin lover; I rather agree with the way the family I once nannied for in England felt about them – they laughed when Imade them  roasted pumpkin, telling me pumpkins were only for feeding to horses! 

But hold on, before you let the horses have them, at least scrape the seeds out first, dry them and toast them – I love those pepitas. They remind me of travelling in Turkey, where all through the countryside are fields dotted with  huge piles of the stringy orange flesh, the prized seeds having been extracted for drying. Turkey was where I gained my appreciation for cracking open roasted sunflower and pumpkin seeds with my teeth, and deftly extracting the meat within with my tongue (great snack to have with a bottle of Efes).

Seeds, yes, pumpkin flesh itself, no – cloying, heavy, sticks to the roof of the mouth. Other squashes I can do – spaghetti (where can you even buy them nowadays?) and butternut would be my picks. The other day I picked up two weighty butternuts for the bargain price of $1. And that’s something I have to give squashes – kudos for their ability to feed an army for very little coinage.

I often roast slices of cubes of butternut to make salads with, but the other night I was in a soup mood, so I took them home and went to work. Oh yeah, I just remember the other reason I rarely buy squashes, and when I do, I tend to roast them with the skin on – because chopping them up (giant pumpkins being the worst here) is a life-threatening, and plainly exasperating operation. The bit where you get the knife stuck in the middle and it won’t budge. And when you suddenly get leverage, you risk accidentally flinging the knife – or knife with pumpkin attached – across the room. There’s probably some easy trick to cutting up a pumpkin and removing all the skin, but Idon’t have the patience to learn it.

Butternuts – not so bad in the prep department. Still a bit of  a pain, but no real threat of injury. The soup was delicious and will be a great freezer-filler to roll out over the winter. You could add stock if you like, but I find the flavourings sufficient to do without it. Here’s how to make a big batch – enough to dinner, lunch the next day and two servings to pop in the freezer, for two:

Take two medium butternut squashes, peel and cube and cook in boiling water until tender.

Meanwhile, sautee 1 onion (I used red as it’s all I had) and 3 large cloves garlic until softened. Add a 1-inch piece galangal, finely chopped; 1 stick of lemongrass, very finely chopped; 1 chilli, finely chopped, towards the end of sauteeing. I used jalapeno which I have growing, for a nice mild kick.

Drain the cooked butternut and use a stick blender or processor to puree the cooked pumpkin and onion mix. Return the pumpkin mix to the stovetop and turn on the heat. Add about  two cups of water, 4 Tbsp fish sauce, 3 Tbsp tamarind paste, juice 1 lime. Stir well and let it come to the boil. Taste and season. Add more water if you like it a bit thinner.

I made a nice crunchy topping for this soup by toasting some cashews and coconut flakes in a hot dry pan, then ading a bit of coconut oil, garlic and chilli and sauteeing till the garlic is cooked. Add a bit of sweet soy sauce and a squueze of lime juice. A handful of coriander leaves would be a great addition, too. Dish the soup out into bowls and top with the cashew garnish.

I’m quite excited about my latest foray into the world of fermentation after I was given some water kefir grains by the lovely food writer Eleanor Ozich of Petite Kitchen. I used to make kefir using milk (the  grains/cultures used to make water and milk kefir are different) but after a few too many incidents of me being less than diligent with my delicate grains, they went bad and refused to perform any longer. So it was months since I’d made kefir. I thought I’d try these water grains out with fresh young coconut water to see how that went. It went so well, I’m hooked – the coconut kefir drink tasted tart and fizzy with quite a ginger kind of flavour to it. I’m going to be needing a regular supply of those coconuts, now.

Kefir, along with other fermented foods, is purportedly very beneficical for the whole digestive tract, and in turn, the immune system. I’ve found it reasonably difficult to obtain grains here, so if you know of any friends who make kefir, see if they can increase their culture and gift some to you. Alternatively, ask at your local healthfood store or try Trademe.

The onion, that is – when stir-frying. I grew up learning to cook from my parents, who largely cooked along the lines of classical European – where the onion is almost always sauteed at the beginning of cooking to soften it. Sure, we ate Asian-inspired stir-fries at home, but following the way mum made them, I would still cook off the onions and garlic first. Wrong! It wasn’t really till I did my first Thai cooking course some years ago that I clicked that a great stir-fry is one where all the vegetables pretty much get cooked for the same, short, amount of time. Including the onion. The garlic, yes, is cooked off first, along with any spice pastes you might be using. But you want the onion to stay semi-crisp and only just starting to show any sign of softening at the edges – a few minutes cooking at the most, usually.

So when I prep for stir-fries, I do it how I learned in Thailand: trimming and chopping all the vegetables and placing them on a plate to be thrown into the wok in one go. This how Thais prepare all their ingredients – the prepping of everything happens first, usually at the dining table (sitting, nice and relaxed, not to-ing and fro-ing at the bench) – and then the cooking part happens smoothly and quickly, usually over high heat (and often outside, in places blessed with less rainfall than us).