I Made Food!

I made coconut and chocolate slice and so can you

For the longest time I had an irrational dislike for Bill Granger, the blonde haired, ultra white toothed, v-neck t-shirt wearing Australian cook. I maintained this dislike through several enjoyable visits to his eponymous breakfast themed restaurant in Surry Hills. He seemed a little grating, perhaps. The sort of early rising type that has a nine hour ocean swim before grabbing a quick soy latte and rolling around on their millions. To be fair, I’m not sure if this was the reasoning I had at the time, or is some post facto attempt at justifying irrationality.

Recently, however, the cracks have started to appear around this dislike. It was almost a two pronged charm offensive: I started to find him as a character less objectionable, while appreciating his food even more. His latest TV show, Bill’s Tasty Weekends, helped me move from a position of general peevishness to one of fond approval.

Since going through this volte-face, I’ve made quite a few of his recipes. I’m struck by their simplicity and deliciousness. He rarely asks you to do much, so when he does ask you to go a slight effort you are more than happy to do so.

I think there are a few kinds of cookbook authors: those that get deliciousness in 4 or 6 ingredients, à la Bill, and those that get deliciousness in 15 or 20 ingredients, à la Ottolenghi. And of course that are those that can not get an appreciable level of deliciousness no matter how many steps or how many ingredients they subject one to. 

This recipe for coconut and chocolate slice embodies the best of Bill Granger’s style.

Find a mixing bowl. Even though I have somehow managed to accumulate sets of both, I have a marked preference for glass over stainless steel. In our kitchen, which can sometimes be rather dim, anything that spreads light rather than traps it greedily has to be appreciated. Plus there is something vaguely appealing about a nice piece of Pyrex glass.

While you’re deciding what your choice in mixing bowls says about you, preheat the oven to 180 units of heat. In the old talk, this is Gas Mark Kipling.

In the mixing bowl dump—with the grace of a culinary ballerina—an entire bag of desiccated coconut (250 grams) and much caster sugar (220 grams.) Now melt cheerful butter (butter has always struck me as the happiest of all cooking fats) (100 grams) and allow to cool.

While cooling whisk 2 eggs for a few moments. Then add the molten, cooled butter and the discombobulated eggs to the mixing bowl. Mix up with a wooden spoon, here used in its proper context, rather than reminding one of primary school sports carnivals.

I don’t like breaking up chocolate. It melts and shards and splinters, but we must suffer for our art, even for the simple art of Bill. Take some 70% good chocolate (150 grams) and chop and chop and chop. Once rendered into elegantly chaotic pieces, stir it into the coconutty mixture.

Before you’ve done any of this line a baking tray with baking paper. Now, take that pre-lined tray and throw in your slice mixture, pressing it down until it resembles Bondi Beach (golden yellow) after a thunderstorm (interspersed with brown nuggets). Put into the oven, cook 20 minutes, or until it looks golden enough. Cool for a little in the tin.

Cut up into small pieces, eat a few pieces, let the rest cool.

Simple. Delicious. Goes well with coffee or tea or spare time or before catching a train or while thinking about what to make for dinner.

Thanks, Bill. Thill. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.

I made pavlova and so can you

Pavlova, fluffy and crispy and with insides that tastes like how I imagine clouds would taste like. Of course being the reasonably mature chap that I am, I know clouds would disappoint. Like snow. One always imagines snow as being fluffy essentially temperature neutral powder. Instead it is this cold crunchy stuff. How life disappoints! 

On with the cooking! So, assemble the ingredients listed here. Yes yes, we all hate Donna Hay, but thankfully she is not the recipe. So we can cook it while maintaing our smug dislike of the bronzed ‘food stylist’.

Separate your eggs—you want the whites. You can do that precious from one shell to another shell transferring method, but I like doing it my hands. Egg yolks always remind me of canned apricots. Be careful however, as apparently the slightest trace of yolk etc will DESTROY EVERYTHING AND THEN YOU WILL BE SAD! The mixing bowl should be dry and clean, obvs. 

Now whisk until you have the start of a range of stiff white mountains with an electric mixer or somesort. It’s a bit tricky to know when they’re exactly ready, but they shouldn’t move. You can even hold them upside down above your head and nothing will happen. Now gradually add the sugar, bit by bit and continue to whisk. They should also be fairly glossy, like the coat of Spirit, mighty stallion of the Cimarron (whatever that is.) Stiff, too. An analogy between stiffness and a horse would be in the poorest of taste. 

Now add the cornflour and vinegar and whisk just a tiny bit until everything is combined. Transfer your mountains to an oven tray lined with some baking paper. I really love baking paper. I don’t love the greaseproof paper that we’ve mistakenly been using as baking paper, however. Shape into an 18 centimetre roundish sort of cake like shape.

You can taste the mixture, although doing it before adding the vinegar/cornflour is best. Mmm, sweet eggs. Oh! Get ready to have your world rocked: corn flour isn’t made form corn! It’s just fine regular wheat flour. Truth in labelling, sit on that. 

Bake in the oven for an hour and 20 minutes then leave to cool. It’ll probably turn out pretty good. It’s satisfying, in a way. 

I have a love/hate relationship with passionfruit seeds.

Now! You can either prepare the whole thing with cream and fruit, or cut it into individual slices and add the bits later. Whatever you choose, I recommend whipped cream and raspberries—the lazy berry—and passionfruit. Delicious. And easy. And Australian. There’s nothing like a dessert that is delicious and patriotic. 

I made raspberry sauce and so can you

What ho! A break from the assault of the forces of the tomato, garlic and chilli.  

I have strayed from the ingredients, but not the colour. This sauce is a lovely and cheerful red colour. It goes well with something white, like vanilla ice cream or a crisp shirt. 

It is super easy. Whack frozen raspberries—the lazy berry, so called for its use in Masterchef by every contestant whenever there’s a dessert challenge—into a pot. Can you use other berries? Or fresh berries (if you’re related to Richie Rich)? It’s not even necessary to answer that (yes, of course you can). Turn on the heat. Let the berries get mushy and squishy.

Squeeze some lemon and add an avalanche (or maybe less) of icing sugar. Cook and stir. Turn an innocent wooden spoon into a naughty shade of pink. Oops! Taste and smile. If what you’re cooking doesn’t make you smile then you must’ve have made a wrong move somewhere. 

You can leave it chunky, but I like to blend it. We have a smart immersion blender that is surprisingly useful and awesome. Whizz. If you like picking raspberry seeds out of your teeth serve now. Otherwise, smoosh through a strainer. It’s a very chef-y feeling, blending and straining things.

 

(there’s mint, so you know it’s dessert!)

It’s lovely. Raspberry flavoured. Tangy but comfortingly sweet. Smooth. As said above, goes great with ice cream. I bet it goes well with pancakes or licked off fingers. Your own of course, this isn’t one of those blogs of ill-repute you hear about.

P.S Please don’t call it ‘coulis’.