Tonight we are invited at Mrs. J's home, a farewell get-together for her son.
I am the one to make the appetizers and the son - a very talented young chef- is doing the main.
Young chef is leaving the little village of Sintra to head for the big world, London calling!
Great place for a chef, but also great competition.
That is life though, and so the little ones fly out, looking for their own path...
Shame... because it is always great to have a chef as a friend...
I guess some (fine) assorted collection of cheese, some prosciutto, maybe a dip and veggie sticks and homemade bread will do.
I usually buy the ready mix for bread (yeast already added). It comes in wholesome dark flavors with seeds and grains and is easy to make and always impressive. You don't need a bread-maker, just your hands, some time and the oven.
"WOW... YOU MADE THE BREAD???"
I mix half a kilo now, with 350 ml of warm water. The dough should be rather moist and gooey, but knead it well and with lotssssssssss of love. You can taste love in bread, I am convinced!
Cover the bowl and let it rest and rise on a draft-free place.
Prince wants to join me to the Corte Ingles today, great news, because less heavy baskets to carry.
But what is it with men in supermarkets? The coolest, smartest, fastest boys - once in a supermarket they are like lost babies! I push the shopping list into Prince's hand, but he returns either empty handed or google-eyed with something totally wrong. His sweet offer of helping delays us instead, but hey, I am not carrying those baskets. (my favorite shopping baskets from the St. Tropez market... there is no other way of shopping...And of course NO WAY of using plastic)
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I spot, once again, that handsome tall security guard, who always seems to keep an eye on me. I wonder if he likes me, or just makes sure, that I am not some thief in disguise. I think-hope-it is the first option?
Packed like donkeys we leave the shop and return home.
PS: I also got mascarpone today, for that soufflé testing!
Time for me to arrange the cheese platter; on a big wooden board, of course, and on some big leaves to give color and earthiness. Add some nuts and fruit and Anna's homemade Quince-paste and voila. Just like in France! (best to arrange soft cheeses hours ahead, to get them gooey and ready for sensual explosion)
My choice of cheese today: and sorry I am cheating on the delicious Portuguese selections (what a discovery, but more on that later)
*Monte D'or (heaven on earth, moist and runny to be discovered under a thick crust)
*Saint Marcellin (nutty and creamy and mhhhhh)
* Saint Maure de Touraine (the magnum of goat cheese, moldy grey roll on a straw with a walnut flavor)
*Cabecau ( milky with a hint of hazelnut, one can taste the happy goat life in the land)
Did you know that there used to be about 400 different kinds of cheese in France, but now the number has risen to above 1000? CHEEEEEESEEEEEE'es!!!
AND.... I will not let out my favorite Portuguese, a luscious masterpiece, which left me speechless (chewless) the first time I tasted it in a little tavern on the beach.
Azeitão
This round of sheep's milk cheese, is of royal finesse. Apparently, the land where the animals graze is covered in lush, herbaceous scrubs, which give this cheese its distinguished flavor. Molded in cloth, the appearance is rustic and simple, if even unrefined, which only adds to the surprise and romance once the hard crust is cut and the gooey gold gets scooped out with crisp bread. It is the perfect CINDERELLA cheese. Once you scrap away the poor looking (don't be fooled) outside, the inside holds a treasure of pure delight. Shame, that I discovered such palate diamond so late in life, but then... it means, that the path to tomorrow will have many more pleasant discoveries to come... Something I surely will look forward to...
Anna's Quince paste recipe
As soon as the leaves turn golden, the days get shorter and the roads are 'littered' with chestnuts and dancing foliage, the romantic season, also known as autumn (or less romantic - fall) has arrived. Autumn, a season for day-dreaming girls and a forgotten Queen called QUINCE. I remember quinces when I was a little girl. They held some strange fascination. You could not eat them (I tried and tried), yet, in grandma's kitchen this yellow apple-pear-lemon look alike, would turn into the most delicious juice, jam or preserve. Grandpa's garden was my paradise, but heaven opened its gates once the love-grown goods landed in grandma's blessed hands, and turned into the most yummmy dishes. Everything at my grandma's home was homemade. From the pasta, to the bread to the pickles. Born in Hungary, she had to leave her roots in the dark and cold of the 2. world war. Stranded in a poor village in Germany, an outcast, a gipsy, living in a rotten house filled with fugitives, she grew up without much hope, comfort or love. Life was hard, but there was always the kitchen. And even, if there was not much available for cooking, she learned to collect nature's wild gifts, like mushrooms and berries to fill the hungry tummies of the house... It was only 70 years ago, that a piece of bread was luxury. Let's never forget how lucky we are today! Especially, when little things upset us. We should be thankful and try to share and give as much goodness and kindness as possible. And on that point: Cooking is such form of giving and sharing. Quince paste is a lovely gift, so next time the leaves are dancing, make a paste and give it to your friends.4 Quinces
50-100 ml water
250-350 g sugar, depends on puree amount
1. Heat the oven to 180 C.
2. Wash the quinces and pat dry. Put them into a roasting tin, cover with foil and bake* for about 2 hours, till soft and mushy. Let cool, peel the skin, core and quarter them.
3. In a food processor puree with 50 ml of water, adding extra water if too thick.
4. Push puree true a sieve (it is a bit of work and time)
5. Measure the amount of puree, pour into a pot and add an equal amount of sugar. Cook over medium heat (make sure it is not too hot, or the puree will get burned and taste a bit funny) stirring CONSTANTLY. Yes. Nonstop. I know... but if you get bored get some good music playing or listen to some old radio shows at www.radiolovers.com. Those mystery stories should keep you happily stirring!
The stirring is the secret ingredient in the quince paste.
6. Quinces must have their own mind, as I have had many different timings till the paste gets thick (it should coat the back of your wooden spoon, without dripping) so anywhere between 45 to 65 minutes should be the norm. But if it takes longer, just keep on stirring! Remove from heat.
7. Push baking paper into a square pan and lightly oil it. Pour the paste into it, smoothing out the top with the wooden spoon. If you have time and you are in no rush or need of this delicious treat, then cover the pan and let dry in a warm place for a few days. I, to be honest, had no luck or patience with this method so far. I am also afraid of unwanted gourmet visitors, like dogs, ants or rats. Instead I turn on the oven to lowest heat and let it oven-dry. This takes about 3-4 hours, but it promises an ant-free delectable paste ready for dinner time.
* You can also boil the quinces till soft. This is much faster, but the fruit will loose some flavor and get much more watery. That means longer stirring time till you get the thick paste.
If you are experimental, try adding cinnamon or lemon to the puree. Another option is using wine instead of water. All a matter of taste, but best to start with the simple fool-proof version.
Prosciutto wraps (easy tasty starters)
slices of prosciutto
fig jam
mascarpone
dried figs, grapes
1. Spread a little fig jam and a little mascarpone on a slice of prosciutto.
2. Roll up and SERVE o a wooden board with some grapes and dried figs.
This must be the easiest appetizer ever and still always gets a lot of UHHHH and Ahhhh's....
In the warmer months, add some fresh mint leaves for that extra UHHHHH.
The best version ever though, is not fig jam - but sweet olive jam. Since it is so hard to distinguish what the sweet flavor could be, people just munch away wondering, wondering, munching and Uhhhhh-ing...
Olive jam is not always easy to find. You can order it or do it yourself. My olive jam recipe will come up soon.
Easy blue cheese dip with veggie Crudités
200 g yogurt (Greek style yogurt preferred)
100 g blue cheese
vegetables of choice, like carrots, cucumbers, celery, peppers... washed and cut into sticks
1. In a food processor mix the yogurt and cheese till you have a creamy baby blue (grey) dip. Pour into a cup and serve with the veggie sticks.
Ready to visit Mrs. J, who had a bad fall (on top of the chef-son leaving) and is now stuck at home with a broken leg-
House-arrest!
But since the weather is nothing but a grey wet wall, for the last 3 weeks (and no change coming up soon), there is not much missing out. We bought her a beautiful soft and silky blanket in a shimmering midnight blue, for all those long TV nights in front of her fireplace.
I am checking on Prince and he is not feeling well at all.
What happened?
He was just fine, wasn't he?
I am worried.
Shaking badly, he is trying to fuel up on warmth in front of the electric (fireplace look alike from LIDL) heater. His face is mummy white!
I bring him an aspirin and a big glass of Vitamin C and suggest to stay in. He wants to give it a little time and see. So I put him to bed, all cuddled up under 3 layers of blankets, to get warm and a bit of rest.
I think he is just exhausted. Even though we just returned from holidays, 12 days (including mad travel) are just way too short, especially after the year we had.
I am ready to cancel Mrs. J, when Prince appears, looking a bit brighter.
"I am ok, it is not right to cancel", he mumbles.
"Are you sure, you don't look good!"
"I am ok, let's go and come back early."
Just an hour late, we arrive at Mrs. J's beautiful home in a tiny village. Overlooking the valley and the sea, it is a magnificent place for doing NOTHING, but paint, write, plant and cook. And this really is the life of Mrs. J.
A fabulous cook (now we know where the chef-son got his talents), a wonderful mother and somewhat a hippy at heart she is an admirable person. Her life has been rather colorful and exciting, a free spirit, who roamed the planet like a wild butterfly, only to land on this flower called PORTUGAL.
Tonight, since Mrs. J cannot move, the kids take care of the dinner. The chef-son has made a pork loin, which is filling the house with the most luring smell. Son number 2 has helped with setting the table and his girlfriend has made a delicious guacamole.
We join Mrs. J by the fireplace, sipping red(me) and bubbles for the others. A small family gathering, the house is as always like a home to us. Prince declines any drink offer, till some Brandy comes around. It is medicine someone says and he takes a big gulp, which ends up in a quarter of the bottle, Prince fast asleep and the fat cat purring on top of his tummy.
So I lost Prince for the night by the looks of it.
But another feline gal took over right away...
Without my Prince I feel first a bit lost, but then enjoy the company, the red and the food and sometime, around 3 am, I figure I am sloshed.
Where did my good resolution, of drinking less in 2010, already go?
I wake Prince, or I think I did and somehow we get home.
I WILL NEVER EVER DRINK AGAIN!!!
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