Cook sister!

Cauliflower steaks - and a call for help

What is it with the world these days?  Everywhere you look there's more disaster, pain, misery and suffering.  And more and more I find that, with the barrage of bad news leaping out at us every day from the media, people suffer from compassion fatigue.  Looking at the figures, there must be many people who donated generously to the Asian tsunami appeal in 2004 who simply turned the page and did not donate following the recent cyclone in Burma. 

Now you can say that these are cold, unfeeling, selfish people, but the truth is more complicated.  Many people truly want to help, but they see their money ending up caght in political no-man's land as politicians argue about who is allowed to help whom; funding the bureaucracy of huge international charitable organisations, rather than reaching the people in need; or at worst, ending up in the pockets of the oppressors rather than the oppressed.  So it always warms my heart when I find a charitable cause where you can see exactly where your donation is going to go, and that is to those who need it.

I recently discovered Mel's wonderful blog.  She is so full of laughter and life and I was instantly taken by her stye of writing.  But what really impressed me was the charity which she runs in Cape Town, called Bosom Buddies.  If you are in the loucky position of being able to afford private healthcare in South Africa, your experience of giving birth will be as first-world as anywhere you care to name, with a private room and your own obstetrician and/or midwife.  However, if (like the majority of South African women) this is not the case, you will find yourself in a state hospital where the care you receive can vary from the good to the okay to the awful.  Many women, sometimes only teenagers, are dropped off at hospital by family and left alone and scared to give birth surrounded by complete strangers.  The process often entails spending hours sitting waiting in a corridor until a bed is available, and the overworked nurses seldom have time for reassurance and soothing words.  Clean linen is at a premium and supplies for the new mum to take home with her are nonexistent. Add to that South Africa's shocking stillbirth figures (and our Minister of Health's even more shocking attempt to conceal them), and you have a situation that would horrify most people - if they took the time out of their safe middle-class lives to pay attention.

Mel is one person who did step out of her comfortable existence and found Bosom Buddies.  The charity collects new and good-quality used clothes and supplies for newborns, as well as having a band of volunteers who knit bootees, sew pretty cloth bags, bake and make cards.  Mel and other women from her church go to the poorest of the state hospitals around Cape Town and spend time with new mums, giving them each a bag containing supplies for them and their baby to take home.  Even more amazingly, they take time to sit with women who have suffered a stillbirth, pray with them, and have special bags for them containing toiletries and a little gift for the bereaved mum.  They distribute about 200 of these bags every month. 

But, as always, funding is a problem and Mel was quite down recently when she found the store where she keeps her supplies almost bare.  The charity only has a bank account in South Africa and therefore needs to use Paypal for international donations, which takes a cut from each donation and decreases the funds that go to Bosom Buddies, and most people are unwilling to spend the money to send baby supplies from overseas.  So what great news that Riki, another South African living here in the UK, has offered to collect any donations of newborn baby clothes/supplies/wool for knitting bootees and blankets from the UK and Europe and add them to her shipping container for free!  According to Mel, she needs:

"*   0-3 month (mostly) and 3-6 month sizes of babygros and vests
*   wool to use for knitted baby cardigans and beanies
*   waterproofs/plastic pants
*   blankies are also a need, but don't buy new, only if you have 2nd hand - rather *   spend those pennies on clothes if you are keen to shop, but gently used is just as good.   

And don't forget your local charity shop, Riki says she has found loads of bargains there too."

The container is being packed on the 9th of June so the clothes need to be sent by the end of May.   You can either e-mail me or e-mail Riki and we will send you the mailing address.  So if you have (or know of anyone who has) old newborn clothes or stuff, or if you feel you can pop some babygros into your grocery basket next time you hit Tesco, please please do so.  The donations will be going directly to those who are the most vulnerable and who need it the most.

Right - on with the food!

Andrea, my oldest and dearest friend back home, is a vegetarian (well, a gluten-free vegan these days!).  After spending time with her recently on a trip home I was constantly amazed at how dismissively vegetarians are still treated in South African restaurants.  You can have, erm, the salad (hold the feta cheese) or the grilled Mediterranean vegetables if you're lucky, or if not, you are stuck with the side order veg of the day (which 6 days out of 7 will be creamed spinach and mashed butternut squash!).  Often, she is also far too accommodating when visiting friends, professing to be happy with just the non-animal parts of whatever the hostess has cooked (usually not much!). 

Andrea is coming to stay with my over the summer (yippeeeeee!) so I am determined not to fall into the same dismissive attitude and have been investigating options for dinners while she is staying with me.  As we have discovered, most vegan meat substitutes contain (surprise, surprise) gluten, so I am trying to find vegetable main courses that can function like their meatier counterparts - I mean, how much fun is a green salad while Nick and I munck on a steak?  Something I read in Manggy's post recently stuck in my mind - cauliflower steaks.  Now there was a thought.  So, having acquired a rather large cauliflower last week, I set about making these steaks a reality.   A word of warning - you do need a big cauliflower for this, and only the slices cut through the stem will hold together, so you probably need a plan for the rest of the cauliflower.  But those niggles aside, this is a fantastic and easy way to make "steaks" for vegan friends, but also a tasty and very attractive way to serve cauliflower.  Next time I might try brushing the slices with curry-infused oil or sprinkling them with cumin, but this time I kept it simple and the result was delicious all the same.

CAULIFLOWER STEAKS

Ingredients

1 large cauliflower
olive oil
fleur de sel or kosher salt

Method

Pre-heat to oven to 190C.

Remove all outer leaves from the cauliflower and rinse it.  With a large, sharp knife, slice vertically through the middle of the head.  Continue to make vertical slices about 0.5cm thick until you get to a point where the slices fall apart (when they are no longer held together by the stem).  Do the same with the other half of the head.  You should get 4-6 slices out of a head.

Spray a rimmed baking sheet with olive oil and lay the slices flat on it in a single layer.  Brush each slice with olive oil and place in the oven.  Turn after about 10 minutes or when the slices start to brown slightly at the edges.  Cook for another 5-7 minutes, then remove from the oven and sprinkle with fleur de sel before serving.

I'm submitting this post as my entry to this week's Weekend Herb Blogging, kindly hosted by the talented Gay at A Scientist in the Kitchen.

Fabulous fish pie

Well, it seems I spoke too soon. 

After lying in the sun last Sunday, braaing (BBQing) last Sunday night, and after my lovely summery salad last weekend, the temperatures have plummeted and I'm back to woolly socks and hot chocolate. So it seems that either:

a) summer has been delayed (probably got its luggage lost at Heathrow's Terminal 5!); or

b) last weekend was this year's allocation of summer - hope you enjoyed it!

Nothing for it then but to turn to something warm and comforting to eat.  And I have to say that there are few things as comforting as food in a creamy sauce.  All the ingredients are there for warmth, a little self-indulgence and a deep sense of contentment.  One case in point is the delicious smoked haddock with flageolets and mustard that I often make, and another perfect example of comfort on a plate is traditional fish pie. 

When I first arrived in England, I imagined fish pie to be just like a chicken pie, only fishy - in other words, fish encased in some sort of flaky pastry - and historically, fish pies did indeed have a pastry lid.  The Romans were very fond of fish and on Fridays, fish was eaten in celebration of the goddess Venus.  But even after the departure of the Romans from these shores, fish gained popularity as Christianity grew and adopted numerous fasting days when meat was outlawed but fish was allowed.  Especially during the forty days of Lent, this could be a trial, so a number of special fish dishes and pies were invented by enterprising cooks.  It seems the Medieval palate took a far more relaxed attitude to the mingling of sweet and savoury flavours, because some pies included a mix of seafood cooked with rosewater, spices, wine and sugar.  There are mentions of mackerel and gooseberry pie; a cod pie with pears and crystallised lemon peel in 1649; and Yorkshire herring pies with apples and potatoes.  For special occasions the pastry lid could even be covered in icing and crustallised fruits! 

One suspects that these combinations might not have been altogether succesful as none of them seem to have survived (or at least I haven't encountered any).  What did happen is that in areas where smoked fish was common, potatoes were almost always added to the fish pie to take the edge off the saltiness of the fish and, over time, the pastry lid traded places with a "lid" of mashed poatato to give us the fish pie we know today.  One of the best things about fish pie is that you can make it as posh or as simple as you like.  Keeping it simple, you can limit yourself to two types of fish; but when guests come, you can add all manner of exotic seafood.  It's also possible to add peas or other vegetables to the pie or the potato topping, making this a succesful one-pot dish (although I prefer to serve mine with lemon-thyme peas on the side).  The choice is yours - and I guarantee you will feel better about the lack of summer weather once you've had a taste.

 

FISH PIE (serves 6-8)

Ingredients

2 fillets of salmon (about 400g each)
1 fillet of smoked, undyed haddock (about 400g)
200g cooked, peeled prawns
500ml milk
100ml white wine
300ml double cream
1 bay leaf
3 whole peppercorns
100g butter
50g plain flour
2 Tbsp chopped chives
2 Tbsp chopped fresh dill

about 800g floury potatoes
100g grated cheddar cheese

Method

Peel and boil the potatoes.

Remove the skin from the fish (if necessary) and cut into 3cm chunks.  In a large saucepan, mix 350ml of the milk, the cream, wine, bay leaf and peppercorns and bring to the boil.  Simmer gently for 8-10 minutes.  Remove from heat and transfer the fish chunks onto a plate to drain.  Strain and reserve the liquid, and scatter the cooked fish as well as the prawns over the base of a large, shallow oven-proof dish.

In a clean saucepan, melt 50g of the butter, add the flour and mix well.  Cook for 1 minute, then remove from the heat.  Gradually add the cooking liquid from the fish, whisking it in a little at a time and then return to the heat.  Bring gently to the boil and allow to simmer gently for 10 minutes. 

Remove from the heat, season with salt and pepper and stir in the chopped dill and chives.  Pour over the fish in the shallow dish.  Pre-heat the oven to 200C.

Mash the potatoes together with the remaining butter and milk to form a smooth, creamy mash.  Spread over the fish in the oven-proof dish so that it covers the fish completely - you can score patterns in the mash with a fork if you feel so inclined.  Sprinkle the grated cheese over the mash.  Bake uncovered at 200C for about 35 minutes until nicely browned and bubbling.

Serve with steamed green beans or minted peas (or, in my case) lemon thyme peas and a full-bodied white wine.

Salade folle a la Cooksister and a foie gras primer

When I was a teenager, I used to be a veteran shopper for souvenirs and knicknacks.  I remember hours of dragging my mom through curio shops buying salt cellars shaped like Siamese cats, crystals, little ornaments for my printer's tray (remember those?  You will if you grew up in South Africa in the 1980s!!) - you name it.  I'm pretty sure that somewhere in the boxes I have in storage back in South Africa, you will find oversize pencils from our 1983 Paris trip, a minature St Bernard soft toy from the Grand St Bernard Pass, pens with little boats sailing in some viscuous liquid along their length... 

Evidently, I was a magpie in a previous life. Either that or a Womble.

The first great scaling back of my hoarding tendencies came when I moved out of my parents home and into a 2-bed apartment.  Suddenly the endless cupboard space was severely curtailed and I realised that if I did not stop buying stuff, soon I'd be sleeping on the balcony and my stuff would be sleeping in my bed, eating my food and cuddling up with my soon-to-be husband!!  Moving to England was the second great wake-up call as regards hoarding, and I must say that I have all but dispensed with the urge to acquire anything except books, DVDs, CDs... and food.  You see, these days when we go travelling, the things I am most likely to bring back as souvenirs are edible.  Italian balsamic vinegar and pasta.  German speck and sweet mustard.  Candied violets from Toulouse.  Austrian fresh horseradish. Spanish Jamon Iberico de bellotta.  And French foie gras.  Not the whole thing, vacuum-packed (although that is possible) - no, dainty little tins of it, all prepared, seasoned and ready to serve.  Now THAT'S fast food I could get into! 

Foie gras literally means "fatty liver" and consists of the liver of ducks or geese that have been force-fed to capitalise on their natural tendencies to gorge before migration.  This gorging results in a fatty liver and humans have been practising this feeding technique since 2500BC. It is a speciality of the south-west of France but its production has been banned in some countries.  I am not going to enter the heated debate about foie gras here - I have eaten it, I continue to eat it and I'm not sure that its production is any more cruel than most intensive farming practices.  It certainly affects far fewer animals than ghastly battery chicken farming.  And if you love the taste but hate the idea, is possible to find ethically produced foie gras where there is no force-feeding but instead the geese are slaughtered just before migration season when they have naturally gorged themselves and fattened their livers.

Foie gras comes in various forms, ranging from the labour-intensive to prepare, to the dead easy. Foie gras entier consists of the entire liver (one or two lobes).  It can be sold either cooked (cuit), semi-cooked (mi-cuit) or raw (frais) and is good for preparing either au torchon (moulding the liver by wrapping it in a tea-towel and cooking it in a waterbath), or quickly at high temperatures (pan-searing, grilling).  The liver usually has to be deveined (time consuming and a bit fiddly), but some say that not deveining it helps to keep it together when cooking - a deveined liver can be like tryng to grill a lump of butter! Foie gras can often be bought from speciality shops in glass jars and consists of pieces of cooked liver moulded together (possibly by a method similar to au torchon).  Bloc de foie gras consists of a fully-cooked, molded block of smooth foie gras, usually sold in a tin and containing 98% foie gras (the rest is mainly seasonings like Armagnac).  If the tin states avec morceaux, this means there are pieces of whole liver included.  And at the bottom of the quality scale there are pate, mousse or parfait de foie gras. These must contain at least 50% foie gras, but the rest can be made up of other meats and seasonings.  These are unlikely to give you the full silky, rich flavour of foie gras unless they have a very high percentage of the liver.

When we went to Paris in 2004, one of the first meals we had was in a little cafe near the Pere Lachaise cemetery.  We were planning to go out that night so I opted for a lighter salad while Nick dug into something more carnivorous.  I had never heard of a salade folle ("crazy salad"), but the menu description was so... well, crazy that I had to try it.  I mean foie gras, smoked salmon and cured beef on one salad??  Surely I was reading the menu wrong?  But no - it arrived containing everything the menu had promised.  It was the first time I had tasted foie gras (one of those brave culinary moments!) and I was instantly hooked to those discs of delight with the taste of liver and the consistency of butter.  On subsequent trips to France, I have often come back with tins of bloc de foie gras which litter my shelves, but for some reason I have never tried to recreate the salad that first made me fall in love with the stuff.

This weekend, though, the weather in London was so delightfully summery that it called out for a salad, and I decided that this should be that salad.  It seems that the ingredients are quite flexible but foie gras plus at least one other luxury ingredient are required - could be smoked salmon, could be lobster.  I decided that this would be gilding the lily and opted instead for a salad topped only with slices of the bloc de foie gras and toast points, with some rather good caramelised red onion relish on the side.  I would recommend the carrot curls - their sweetness and crunch make them ideal partners for the foie gras.  And if you are not a fan of foie gras, you can replace it with a slice of any pate or terrine that you like.  Go crazy!

SALADE FOLLE A LA COOKSISTER (serves 2)

Ingredients

About half a head of lettuce leaves
2 vine-ripened tomatoes
About 5cm of a cucumber
2 sliced spring onions
2 medium carrots
2 slices of white bread, crusts cut off
1 small tin of bloc de foie gras (or similar)
a few slices of smoked salmon (optional)

For the dressing:
3 Tbsp very mild olive oil
1 Tbsp raspberry vinegar
1 scant tsp wholegrain mustard
Mixed herbs (whatever you like)
Salt & pepper to taste

Method

Wash and shred the lettuce.  Slice and quarter the cucumber and slice the spring onions.  Peel the carrots, then slice them with a mandolin or vegetable peeler into thin strips. 

Cut the crusts off the bread and place under a medium grill in the lower half of the oven so that they crisp up slowly rather than carbonise. 

Mix the dressing ingredients together, preferably in a small bottle and shake well. 

Carefully remove the foie gras from its tin.  The tins have ring-pull openings at both ends - remove both and allow the foie gras to slide out.  Using a very sharp, unserrated knife, slice the block carefully into 1/2cm slices. 

Toss the salad, dress, and top with the foie gras and toast points (and smoked salmon, if using) to serve.

My ELuckypacket postcard, WTSIM and some housekeeping

Some of you may remember a few weeks back I highlighted some South African blogs - among them This is Zimbabwe (the source of most of the Zimwatch headlines in my sidebar), Doula Mel, and ELuckypacket.  Well, ELuckypacket's Sue recently hosted a postcard exchange where the idea was to send a postcard to another participant and tell them something about yourself and the city where you live.  Well, what a lovely surprise it was to receive Georgie's postcard from Durban yesterday!  Georgie is a proud mom and gran and told me all about the hot summer Durban has just had and how preparations are coming for the Football World Cup to be hosted in South Africa in 2010.  I hope Georgie has received my postcard too - and Sue will be posting all the postcards on her Flickr page soon.

In other big news, Johanna has posted the roundup for the breakfast edition of Waiter, There's Something in My, and Andrew has announced the theme for May.  He's gone for dried fruit and nuts - other than that, interpretation is up to you.  So think dried cranberry muffins, pecan pie, granola, walnut bread, fruitcake...  the possibilities are endless! You have until 30 May to get your entries to Andrew.

I was also thrilled to discover that the lovely Ronell of My French Kitchen has awarded me a Yummy Blog award!  According to the originator of this award (Roopa of Kitchen Treats):

Hi dear readers/fellow bloggers, I am starting an award category called “Yummy Blog !” where the blog with most yummy recipes/photos will get the award. The person who receives the award should display the “Yummy Blog !” logo on their blog and also the meaning of the award which is “Yummy blog award is the award given to the blog with most yummy recipes/photos” The receiver should also quote their favorite yummy-licious dessert(s) that they have ever prepared/eaten. Dont restrict yourself to any dessert, chocolate bars also welcome:). Also the receiver should pass on the award to four other bloggers who’s blog they find “yummy” and let them know about the rules

As far as my favourite desserts go, I'll have to mention truly South African treats like Cape brandy pudding, Peppermint Crisp fridge tart, milk tart and asynpoeding (vinegar pudding), but this list wouldn't be complete without my mom's chocolate mousse and my raspberry and white chocolate cheesecake!  As far as the four bloggers to whom I passing this award to, it would have to be:

• June of Thyme for Food for her inspirational photography
• Inge from Vanielje Kitchen for her beautiful photos and writing
• I-Ling of Feed Me! I'm Hungry! for her zest for life and stunning pictures
• Michelle from Greedy Gourmet whose pictures and recipes are a constant inspiration

**STOP PRESS**  I am also thrilled to find that one of my other favourite bloggers, the  lovely Nicisme of Cherrapeno, has awarded me an Arte y pico award!  This award is for creativity, design, interesting material and contribution to the blogging community, and I am duly surprised flattered to receive it.  As part of my winner's duties (click on the link above to see the rules), I have to pass the award on to five other bloggers, so here goes:

Chris of Melecotte

Charlotte of Charlotte's Web

Johanna of The Passionate Cook

Bron of Bron Marshall

Abby of Eat the Right Stuff

Well done ladies - you deserve it!

And last but not least, in case you are interested, my second piece has just appeared in WE Magazine for women - it's all about South Africa's first carbon-neutral wine from Backsberg, so be sure to check it out! 

Riesling, mein liebling

Here are some two-word combinations that explain why many people think they don't like Riesling:

Blue Nun

Black Tower

Crouchen Blanc

The first two are brand names of mass-produced, mass-marketed syrupy examples of Riesling which is unfortunately the persistent impression that most Brits have of Riesling, formed during their formative years when they (like the rest of us!) started their drinking career on something cheap and sweet. 

The third is the correct name for the obscure French variety of grapes (originally from the Landes region in Southwest France, now almost extinct there) which was grown and marketed in South Africa as Paarl Riesling, and what I grew up thinking to be the real deal.   I would read that Riesling is one of the most noble and complex white grapes, then sip this grassy and often quite acidic wine and think "they're having a laugh!".  (interestingly enough, in Australia Crouchen was bottled as Claire Riesling.)  It was only in the 1970s that this wine was differentiated from true Riesling, which was then marketed in SA as Weisser Riesling.

But I digress.  To all the people who are afflicted by the abovementioned couplets of words and who believe that there is no such thing as a good Riesling, I have only two words that will lead you on the path to salvation: 

Bert Simon.

As soon as I came to the UK and started drinking proper European Rieslings, I knew I was onto something, so we always looked out for them when we went wine shopping.  A trip to Alsace in 2000 further cemented Riesling's position as probably my favourite white grape.  But sadly, the affordable examples of Riesling that reached the UK shores were still largely of the Liebfraumilch/Blue Nun/Black Tower persuasion.  And then one day... we went to our local Majestic Wine Warehouse, and there on the shelves for something like £5 per bottle, was this Bert Simon Riesling Kabinett.

The wine comes from the Mosel-Saar-Ruwer (renamed the Mosel in 2007) German wine region, where wine has been cultivated since the second century AD and named after the three rivers that criss-cross it.  These rivers create a very specific and unique microclimate both because the expanse of water keeps extremes of temperature at bay, and also because of the steep valleys they have carved - some vineyards sit at an angle of 65 degrees which makes hand-picking almost compulsory! These steep slopes not only maximise sun exposure but also ensure excellent drainage.  Another feature of the region is its particularly slatey, minerally soil and Riesling grapes (which make up 54% of the grapes grown in the region) is particularly good at picking up these flavours.  The wines of the region are known for their intense fruitiness, low alcohol and racy acidity.  And if you want to see all those characteristic personified in one bottle, this Bert Simon Kabinett is your wine.

Before we discuss it though, a quick word about German wine types:

Kabinett is usually the freshest and most delicate style that an estate will make.  It will be made from normally-ripe grapes picked early in the harvest.

Spaetlese is German for "late harvest" and the wines have more richness and body on account of being left to ripen for another week or two.  Once harvested, it can be made into three styles: lieblich (fruity), halbtrocken (off-dry), or trocken (dry), depending on what the winemaker is trying to achieve.

Auslese means "selected from the harvest" and is made from overripe, late-harvested grapes which are hand selected for ripeness, bunch by bunch.  The wine is usually made in a fruity style with residual sweetness and there may be some botrytis.

Beerenauslese means "berry selection" and these wines are dessert wines made from individually selected overripe grapes that are fully affected by botrytis.

Trockenbeerenauslese literally means "dry berry selection" - where the wine is made from individually selected berries which have been completely shriveled by botrytis, concentrating the flavours.  The finest and rarest dessert wines are made in this style.

So from that, you can gather that this Riesling is actually in a pretty delicate style compared to it's more rareified cousins.  And yet, and yet... when we drank this about a year ago, it was thirteen years old.  Think about that - a thirteen-year-old unfortified white wine.  Nick was a little suspicious, especially given the reasonable price, so we only took two bottles. 

But after we tasted it you could hear the sonic boom as we broke the sound barrier racing back to Majestic to buy the rest of their stock.

The Bert Simon 1994 Serrig Wurtzberg Riesling Kabinett showed its promise right from the start.  The colour was just a joy to behold - a deep and intense straw gold that was lovely to behold.  The nose promised further delights - burnt caramel, marmalade and dried apricots.  But it was the palate that blew us completely away.  Yes, there were apricots.  Yes, there was an intense honeyed sweetness that seemed to seep through your soft palate and go intoxicatingly to your head via your nose. Yes, there was a pineapple upside-down pudding kind of sweetness with a bite.  And as you swallowed and all these flavours melded into one, there was a crisp, clear bell of acidity that rang out, leaving your palate cleansed and ready for the next sip.  We enjoyed it with Thai food and it was a marriage made in heaven.  But you could just as easily have a chilled bottle as an aperitif on its own.  And the best is that it has less than 10% alcohol, so you would still be able to walk to the dinner table after you'd drunk it!

We have had a couple of other vintages from the same estate and I have to say they are all good.  If you can get your hands on some, just do so.  And as for the pics below, last summer Andrew challenged me to do a visual tasting note of a wine, and this is the wine I chose, so it's only fitting that the visual tasting notes are included again here.

A couple more pictures are available on my Flickr site.

This post is my submission to this months' Wine Blogging Wednesday, an event from which I've been lamentably absent of late.  Tim of Winecast chose Old World Riesling as a theme, so how could I refuse?  And although I realise it's no longer Wednesday, a little bird told me that he might still accept an entry as the roundup has not yet been posted...   

Vampire-slaying tomato, basil & marinated feta skewers

Now there's a post title you didn't think you'd be seeing on Cooksister any time soon.

Don't get me wrong - I love vampire lore.  I read Salem's Lot as a teenager and loved every minute of it.  Interview with the Vampire enthralled me.  Nosferatu is, visually speaking, one of my all-time favourite films - both the 1922 original and the 1979 remake.  And what's not to love about the gleefully over-the-top gorefest that is From Dusk Till Dawn?  Or the uber-cool Blade?  I could explain to you from an early age that you should never invite a vampire into your house as then you will never be able to keep them out (funny - I know some people like that too...!); that garlic and holy water were good things to keep on hand; that sunlight was a sure-fire way to deter the keenest vampire; and that wooden stakes were essential, but that you had to catch them asleep in their coffins and nail them through the heart.

So it's quite surprising, I guess, that the whole Buffy the Vampire Slayer thing totally passed me by.  I am dimly aware that this is the show that made Sarah-Michelle Gellar's name and launched her as the object of a lot of male fantasies, but I can tell you nothing else about the show and I have never even watched an episode.

Really.

So when my dear friend Stephanie invited me to take part in this month's Blog Party, my heart sank.  The theme she had chosen was Buffy the Vampire Slayer - a Buffy Bash.  Damn.  But Stephanie was very cool about it and said I had loads of leeway to interpret the theme as I wished.  Plus I remember cajoling people to take part in the Harry Potter-themed End of Month Egg on Toast Extravaganza who professed never to have read a book, so I figured it was my karmic destiny to have to do this event. (If you want to join in the fun, you have until 15 May to get your posts to Stephanie!)

I made these snacks in lieu of starters at a braai (BBQ) this weekend and it's a good thing there were no vampires present because the feta cubes had been marinated in a ton of garlic.  And just in case the garlic didn't get them, there was always the little wooden skewer to finish them off :)  As for what to drink with them - well, clearly there can only be one drink suitable for a vampire-themed event and that's a Bloody Mary.

TOMATO, BASIL AND MARINATED FETA SKEWERS (makes 12)

Ingredients

12 ripe cherry tomatoes
12 cubes of feta, about 1.5cm
12 fresh basil leaves
1 clove garlic, crushed
Extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 tsp dried thyme
12 toothpicks

Method

If you have bought the feta as a block, cut your 12 cubes - carefully so that the cheese does not crumble.  Place the cubes in a shallow dish. Mix a few tablespoons of olive oil, garlic and thyme together and pour over the cheese cubes.  Cover and refrigerate overnight, turning the cubes once or twice for even coating.

When you are ready to serve, rinse the tomatoes and thread onto each skewer: 1 tomato, 1 basil leaf, and 1 cube of feta (again, be careful that the cheese does not crumble and fall apart).  Balance each skewer on its block of cheese and serve with drinks. 

Useful for getting rid of annoying vampires you have accidentally invited into your home :)

Cape Town: Blackheath Lodge - and meeting my first South African food blogger!

There can be no better feeling that arriving in a foreign city and having good friends there to look after you, to welcome you into their home, advise you on all the best places to go and secure hard-to-get bookings. Unless you are lucky enough to have friends in all the world’s major cities, you may not be able to experience this luxury. Or maybe you can… as long as you know where the best guesthouses are!

In the interests of full disclosure I have to say that I have known Antony and John, the delightful owners of Blackheath Lodge in Cape Town, for a couple of years. I met them through our mutual friend Cecil (he of the lamb sosaties) when they still living in London and was devastated a year or so ago when they returned to South Africa to run Blackheath Lodge. But on the plus side, it meant that we could arrive in Cape Town and head straight for their hospitality before the round robin tournament of family visits began.

Blackheath Lodge consists of two adjacent houses on the slopes above Sea Point, overlooking the Atlantic. I have a soft spot for the area as my parents owned a spectacular beachfront apartment there for many years, but even if you’ve never been there before I can guarantee that you will fall in love. The house is perched just below High Level Road, so the suburb slopes away before you, clearing a view down to the twinkly and impossibly blue Atlantic Ocean.  The décor is relaxed but elegant, with touches of African style rather than the full zebra-print experience that seems to be de rigeur these days in guesthouses catering to overseas visitors ;-) The bedrooms are spread throughout the two original buildings and the nerve centre is the lovely courtyard with its lush plants, and the sparkling blue swimming pool. Even when the southeaster is pumping (and believe me, it can!), the courtyard provides a sheltered oasis where guests can relax on the sun loungers and do nothing more stressful than occasionally dip their toes in the pool. Drinks and breakfast are served on the tranquil verandah under crystal chandeliers – all exceedingly lovely.

After a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a chat, we headed for our room which had a panoramic view towards Lion’s Head, as well as a window looking directly down the hill towards where the sea was sparkling like a sea of diamonds. I could hardly bring myself to leave the shower cubicle because the views of Lion’s Head are so good – and enhanced by the clever placement of mirrors. You will not believe that after boarding a plane in cold, rainy London, it is possible to be in a place so radically different by lunchtime the following day! The room itself is huge by European standards with a king-size bed and good linen. There is also a selection of drinks and nibbles, a TV and a small library of DVDs, and a seating area where you can keep one eye on the DVD, one eye on the view and enjoy your pre-dinner drinks in private. Like I said, it’s more like having a best friend in a foreign city than staying in paid-for accommodation!

After tearing myself away from the lovely vistas of Signal Hill and Lion's Head, we eventually made it out the door and down to the V&A waterfront (more of that in another post) to meet friends. But by sunset we were back at Blackheath Lodge for a quick change of clothes and pre-dinner drinks. As friends of Ant & John's, we had the privilege of having drinks on their private deck next door with an even more panoramic views down towards the ocean - and they had a special surprise in store for me.

You see, occasionally they need catering services and they make use of none other than my fellow South African food blogger Sophia, who they had also invited to drinks.  We hit it off immediately as if we had known each other for years and I can vouch for the fact that she is as bubbly in real life as her blog suggests.  I can also tell you that I am sorely tempted to return to Blackheath Lodge in June.  Why, I hear you ask - it's the middle of winter in a city that's notorious for soggy, windy winters!.  That may well be, but I have an ulterior motive:  Blackheath Lodge in conjunction with Sophia are using this time to run their first ever Taste the Cape programme.  The programme is meant to highlight the Cape as a gourmet destination and for your money, you get accommodation in the exceedingly lovely Blackheath Lodge, cooking classes at Sophia's house, dinner at some of Cape Town's top restaurants, wine tastings and a tour of the Cape's gastronomic delights (such as Morgenster's award-winning olive oil and some of the Cape's top markets).  If I hadn't spent all my money on this trip, I would be sorely tempted to return in June...  And if you are a foodie contemplating a trip to Cape Town soon, I would strongly recommend you check out the itinerary.

 

The following morning, we were awakened by the sounds of birds singing and the distant sound of the sea.  Opening the curtains and being assaulted by the bright sunlight, the bluest sky I'd seen in months, the rampant greenery of the garen next door, and the imposing bulk of Lion's Head, left me feeling quite lightheaded - but that's what months of solar depriviation and a London winter will do for you.  Freshly showered and dressed, we presented ourselves downstairs for breakfast on the wraparound verandah overlooking the pool.  The buffet-style breakfast looked fresh and lovely and included fresh fruit, yoghurt and cereal, pastries and local preserves, a muesli-topped fruit tart, mini quiches and a cheeseboard.  We also had our choice of eggs cooked to order and plenty of excellent coffee - so something for everyone.

   

Because the family get very antsy if we don't stay with them when we visit Cape Town, we only spent one night at Blackheath Lodge, but if there is any way I can wangle a longer stay next time, I will do so.  In fact, they'll be prying me out of that room with a crowbar ;-)  For more photos of our stay, see my Flickr album of the trip.

Stay tuned for the next instalments in my South Africa trip diary:  German beer in the V&A Waterfront, funky Greenpoint market, and dinner at Aubergine.