Kiwi Pavlova

The remainder of my time on the north island, was hectic and adrenaline fuelled. Starting slowly, we made a trip to Hobbiton, the set used in the Lord of Rings movies. Although I have watched all six of the Peter Jackson-helmed films, I never considered myself a rabid fan, but the set visit was a real highlight. From there it was in to Rotorua where I visited a Maori village, where I was elected Chief of the visiting tribe by my fellow travellers. This meant I had to greet the villages Chief, dance the Haka and sing a song native to my homeland. I chose Wannabe by the Spice Girls, naturally! Next, we ventured on to Taupo where I hiked 12 miles up and along a volcanic ridge, in the shadow of mount doom. That same day I dove out of a plane at 12,000 feet. Frankly the experience was one of the most mind-blowing and exciting of my travels so far, though quite honestly my friends and I were so exhausted from the hike that it all felt a little dreamlike. We ended our north island tour in Wellington, where we stayed for three days for a well deserved rest.

During this period of my travels I was in extreme money saving mode – jumping out of planes isn’t cheap. So a lot of the time I ate instant noodles, peanut butter sandwiches or cooked cheap meals like bolognese and burritos. I did enjoy one superb meal however, when visiting the Maori village. Known as a Hāngi, the meal consisted of roasted meats and vegetables, that had been cooked in an underground fire pit. This process lent the food a moreish smokey quality, that went surprisingly well with the Anglo-Kiwi additions of stuffing and gravy. As much as I would love to include these recipes on my blog, I do not feel adequetly experienced to teach you all how to make a fire pit in your back garden. Instead I will focus on the dessert – the Pavlova. The Kiwis and the Aussies have long contested the origins of this simple meringue based dish, but I tend to side with the people of New Zealand on this one.

In order to make a pavlova, with the necessary billowy, mallow like centre is simple. The addition of vinegar and cornflour is all it takes to make a soft, chewy meringue. And to top it all off – what could be more authentic than the Kiwi fruit!

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Level: easy
Methods: whisking method, italian meringue
Skills: baking

Time: 4 hours (including cooling time)
Makes: feeds 8-10

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Ingredients

For the meringue:
4 egg whites
250g caster sugar
1 tsp white wine vinegar
1 tsp cornflour
1 tsp vanilla extract

For the topping:
2-3 kiwi fruit, skinned and sliced horizontally
2-3 passion fruit, seeds and pulp only
2 tbsp icing sugar
350ml double cream

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Method

1. Preheat the oven to 130C.

2. Using a pencil, mark out the circumference of a dinner plate on baking parchment.

3. Whisk the egg whites with a electric hand mixer until they form stiff peaks, then whisk in the sugar, 1 tbsp at a time, until the meringue looks glossy and stiff peaks form.

4. Quickly whisk in the vinegar, cornflour and vanilla.

5. Spread the meringue inside the circle, creating a crater by making the sides a little higher than the middle. (Kiwi Pavlovas tend to be tall with straight sides like those in the picture.)

6. Bake for 1 hr, then turn off the heat and let the Pavlova cool completely inside the oven.

7. When the meringue is cool, whip the cream and icing sugar together, to form soft peaks. Spread it over the meringue.

8. Arrange the kiwi fruit slices on top of the cream and then haphazzardly drizzle over the passion fruit pulp.

Lamingtons

Sydney was just as I had expected; a sprawling modern metropolis centred around the harbour for which the city is so well known. On my second day I ventured into the Blue Mountains, on a small one-day group tour that allowed me to view some of the wonders of this natural wilderness (approximately the size of Belgium). Among them were the towering stone monoliths of the inaccurately named “Three Sisters”. Our passionate and well informed guide, himself quarter Aboriginal, helped explain the true legend of the Seven Sisters constellation and illustrated their significance to ancient cultures across the world. Back in the city, the weather was blisteringly hot, as one would expect in mid-summer, so I sought shade in the wonderful botanical gardens. From here I could capture photos of the majority of Sydneys most famous attractions. I also spoke to some other tourists who informed me that my penultimate day in the city would fall on Australia Day. Another happy coincidence.

Venturing out on this important public holiday I was greeted with a variety of street performers, artists and purveyors of fine foods. It is here I had my first and only taste of a true Australian classic, the Lamington. Like most of the recipes I post here, the methods and ingredients used can be quite contentious. I try my best to do research, but ultimately what I post is as close an approximation to what I have tasted as I can muster. The Lamington I tasted had a moist but slightly dense sponge and was sandwiched together with strawberry jam. The coating was a semi-set viscous syrup, not the crisp snap of chocolate I had envisaged. Both of these innovations seemed entirely appropriate to me, adding interest, texture and moistness to the little cuboid treat. When speaking to the proprietors at their bakery stall, I picked up some great tips for how to make Lamingtons with minimal fuss. But beware, this does add a lot of time. I am reliably informed, it is best to sandwich and portion the Lamingtons the day before consumption. That way they can be frozen overnight, meaning they do not fall apart when coating them in the luscious, syrupy chocolate coating. You are also less likely to find your icing full of crumbs. In order to make a cake that is robust enough to withstand a long bake and a night in the freezer, without becoming dry, I am using a modified sponge cake with both oil and sour cream added to ensure that essential moistness. When it comes to sandwiching the Lamingtons with jam it is simpler, if not quicker, to divide the sponge into cubes, splitting and filling each individually. But if you are confident enough, you can cut the whole cake in two horizontally before filling with jam and then cutting into portions.

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Level: high
Methods: creaming method, ganache
Skills: baking, freezing, decorating

Time: 2 hours (not including overnight freezing)
Makes:16 medium-size lamingtons

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Ingredients
125g unsalted butter, melted
300g caster sugar
250g sour cream
3tsp vanilla extract
50ml sunflower oil
5 eggs
300g plain flour
3 tsp baking powder

4tbsp strawberry jam
300g dark chocolate
30g cocoa
300g caster sugar
200ml milk
250g desiccated coconut

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Method

1. Take a 25cm square cake tin and line the base and sides with non-stick baking paper.

2. Preheat the oven to 170C.

3. Pour the melted butter into a mixing bowl with the sugar, sour cream, vanilla extract and oil, then beat for a minute or so until smooth using an electric whisk.

4. Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat each one in well before adding the next.

5. Sift in the flour and baking powder, and incorporate gently but thoroughly with a metal spoon.

6. Pour the batter into the tin, cover the top with a lid of foil and then bake for about an hour (remove the foil after 40 minutes) until a skewer poked in comes out clean.

7. Cool the cake in the tin, covering the top with a tea towel, to keep it moist.

8. When cool, carefully remove from the tin and cut into 16 equal cubes. Split each horizontally and dollop on some jam. Sandwich and set aside.

9. When complete, wrap them tightly and freeze overnight to set.

10. The next day, make the coating. Finely chop the chocolate, set aside, then whisk the cocoa, sugar and milk in a pan and bring to the boil.

11. Remove from the heat, stir in the chocolate and leave until just warm before using.

12. Using a pair of forks or just your fingers, dip the lamingtons into the syrup, then roll them on a tray thickly covered with coconut.

13. Allow the chocolate to set for a few hours before eating. (They will keep well in an airtight container.)

Anzac Biscuits

From Melbourne, I ventured north to Brisbane. The city itself was a fairly innocuous metropolis, but its proximity to an array of attractions and additional destinations made it an appealing prospect none the less. Just forty minutes outside of the CBD (central business district for non-antipodeans) was a gorgeous and well appointed koala sanctuary, where I delighted in getting my photo taken, in true tourist style, with the miniature marsupial. I also fed kangaroos, spotted a sleepy Tasmanian devil and saw the prehistoric-looking Cassowary bird.

A small jaunt on from Brisbane was the Gold Coast and later Byron Bay. A popular destination for tourists and Aussies alike, the beautiful stretches of beach were the picture postcard ideal we so often see in the UK and a perfect paradise for surfers. However, after so long on the road and with the purse-strings tightening. What I delighted in most was that my accommodation had both Satellite TV and a well-stocked kitchen. This made my evening entertainment decidedly cheaper. It was in the Gold Coast that I took my first foray into Australian baking; making my own version of Anzac biscuits.

I have sampled various version of Anzacs in Oz and the best versions are always freshly baked in cafes, served warm and therefore slightly soft in the middle. My ideal so closely resembles a recipe for Oaty Cookies I use at school, that I have decided to post that here. The biscuit should be golden with an irregular crust, providing crunch on the outside and a moreish soft middle. The traditional Anzac includes coconut and so I have added it to the recipe as an optional ingredient. It’s addition does not effect the cooking times at all, just the flavour, so go with your personal tastes. Cinnamon, mixed spice, raisins and chocolate chips all work too – but by then, you barely have an Anzac at all!

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Level: easy
Methods: melting
Skills: baking

Time: 30 minutes
Makes: 12 biscuits

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Ingredients

75g plain flour

75g oats

75g caster sugar

75g margarine

1tbsp golden syrup

1tbsp milk

½tsp bicarbonate of soda

Optional: 25g desiccated coconut

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Method

1. Preheat the oven to 180˚C.

2. Place the margarine, sugar, syrup and milk into a medium sauce pan.

3. Melt over a low heat.

4. Stir in the flour, oats and bicarbonate of soda. You can add the coconut if you’re using it.

5. Lightly grease a baking tray.

6. Use a teaspoon to place 12 small mounds of biscuit mix onto the baking tray. Leave some space in between as they do spread.

7. Bake in the oven for 12 minutes, until golden and still slightly soft in the middle.

8. Remove to a cooling rack and allow to cool fully before eating. They should be crisp on the outside and chewy in the centre.

Pastel de Nata

My final destination in South America, before departing for a cristmas at home, was Rio de Janeiro. Rio was every bit as ecelectic and interesting as I had hoped, though the oft-lauded beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema, were admittedly a tad dull after the beauty and isolation of Ilha Grande. Keen to reintegrate into urban life, our group departed on a city tour shortly after our arrival. Undoubtably the highlight of which was visiting Christ the Redeemer, a truly imposing and magnificent statue that sits perched above the city, arms spread wide. No doubt the most eponymous of Rio’s tourist attractions, the statue was visible from practically every part of the city – even lit up at night, he seemed to levitate above us. JC as my group renamed him, became somewhat emblematic of the trip and Facebook even requested I tag him as a friend on the collage I recently posted.

Another thing for which Rio is famous, is the slums which are situated at the edge of the city, sprawling right up to the edge of the modern developments, hotels and beaches. This stark visual juxtaposition, really drew into focus the rich/poor divide in this city and was truly thought-provoking. For this reason, some of us went on a tour of the Favelas, an interesting if overly orchestrated climb through the streets of one of the poorest neighbourhoods. There we experienced firsthand the poor sanitation and dangeously erected homes, but also the spirit of the people and some of the projects being used to help educate and enrich the life of its impoverished inhabitants. To be honest, I was expecting worse. The overwrought hand-wringing of our too-sincere tour guide, made the place seem unreal at times, like the favella was a tourist attraction of its own. The lines of reality and fiction became blurred and I left the tour unsure of what to believe. I do however think tours like this are to be encouraged, as we were able to invest in the local people, purchasing artworks and homemade pastries. Despite this odd experience, as a group we cant have been sufficiently put off, as we attended a Favela party for our last full night together as a group. The “party” was essentially a trip back into the slums at around midnight to visit a local nightclub there. At first the place seemed strange; we gringos were deposited on a balcony where we could observe the locals in a way that felt hugely voyeuristic. Below us, a small pocket of local boys (presumably employed by the club) danced an oddly choregraphed hybrid dance, somewhere between street-dancing and line-dancing. But once the number of partygoers rose, and we moved downstairs the atmosphere changed and it felt more like a traditional night out. For the girls in the group the experience may have been slightly different. While it was apparent that a small group of thrity-something white men, posed little threat to the local boys with their rippling beach bods, the latinas didn’t feel the same way about having white girls in their local haunt. In the most bizarre and brazen display of posturing, many of the Rio girls interjected themselves between our female friends and the local men, where they popped their chests and twerked their butts in a way that seemed to say “this is how its done!” All very strange.

Just like my visit to in Mexico, in working hard to illustrate the cultural differences I experienced, I have inadvertently painted a bleak picture that may only serve to reinforce said boundaries and differences. But what I need to stress, is that through these challenging experiences I learnt a great deal and they remain some of the most vivid, exciting and enriching of my travels so far. Embrace the differences I say.

For my final dish, I am going to post a recipe for a classic Portuguese dessert, that I have enjoyed many times over the years, Pastel de Nata. The Portuguese heritage in Brazil makes this an appropriate choice and in fact I even sampled a similar product in the favelas and an identical tart on my last day in the city. As it was the last Brazilian/Portuguese dish I ate in South America, I think it has earned its place as my last recipe from that part of the world. If you have never experienced the joy of these custard tarts, it is worth noting that they are really nothing like their british counterparts. Rather than a set, almost savoury custard in shortcrust pastry, Pastel de Nata are made of a lusciously thick vanilla custard that is rebaked in a a sweet, buttery flaky puff pastry crust. To my mind the Portuguese have the right idea and I infinitely prefer these to our own version. See what you think…

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Ingredients
Butter, for greasing
3 egg yolks
125g caster sugar
30g cornflour
1 vanilla pod, split, seeds scraped out
175ml whole milk
225ml double cream
300g ready-rolled puff pastry

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Method

1. Preheat the oven to 180°C.

2. Grease the wells of a 12-hole muffin tray with butter.

3. In a pan, heat the egg yolks, sugar and cornflour over a low to medium heat, whisking continuously until thickened and well combined.

4. Add the vanilla seeds, then add the milk and cream in a thin stream, whisking continuously, until the mixture is thick, smooth and well combined.

5. Continue to stir the custard mixture until it comes to the boil, then remove from the heat.

6. Roll out the puff pastry onto a clean work surface.

7. Cut the pastry into rounds using a cookie cutter.

8. Press a pastry disc into each of the wells in the muffin tray.

9. Prick the base of each pastry case with a fork. This will prevent the pastry from rising too much.

10. Divide the cooled custard equally among the pastry cases.

11. Transfer the muffin tray to the oven and bake the tarts for 18-20 minutes.

12. Allow to cool in the tin.

Cuñapés

Bolivian cuisine is held in much the same regard by South Americans, as English food is by the Europeans. Essentially they view the food as uninspired and bland. While there tends to be a modicum of truth as a basis for all culinary clichés, this is a largely unfair opinion. Yes, like the British, the Bolivians have a great many stews and soups as the backbone of their food culture. Likewise they are prone to a meat-and-two-veg diet and are in love with the potato in all its forms. But like the British, they are exceptionally forward thinking when it comes to modern fusion cuisine and they are excellent bakers.

My first taste of true Bolivian baking was in Copacabana. After spending 24 hours hopping on and off buses and trekking across the beautiful Isla del Sol, I was ready for a carbohydrate-packed hit to bolster my flagging energy levels. Whilst browsing the local eateries I stumbled across these delightfully light, chewy, moreish cheese buns, known as Cunapes. The Cunape is not native to Copacabana, but instead traditionally hails from the South Eastern city of Santa Cruz.

But wherever these come from, these baked delights are an ideal snack for mid morning. They are also ludicrously easy to make. I have substituted Queso Fresco for Gouda here, as it has the necessary mild flavour and brilliant melting properties. One ingredient that cannot be substituted however, is the tapioca flour, which provides the requisite chewy texture. You can buy this online or in many ethnic grocers – where it may be called cassava flour, mandioca starch or yucca, depending on its country of origin.

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Level: low
Skills: baking

Time: 30-40 minutes
Makes: 10 small buns

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Ingredients:
110g tapioca flour
220g grated Gouda
1tsp baking powder
1 egg
1-3tbsp milk

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Method

1. Preheat the oven to 230C.

2. Mix the tapioca flour and the baking powder in a mixing bowl.

3. Add the cheese and mix well until cheese is covered in the flour.

4. Add the egg to the mix and stir to combine.

5. The dough should come together in a ball, leaving the sides of the bowl clean. Add the milk 1tbsp at a time until the correct consistency is achieved.

6. Divide the dough into 10 pieces of the same size and shape them into balls.

7. Put a thumbprint in the bottom of each ball (this helps with even puffing in the oven and stops them sticking).

8. Place thumbprint side down on a lightly greased baking tray. You can use baking parchment to reduce clean up.

9. Bake for 12-15mins until lightly golden and well puffed up.

10. Serve warm.

Torta de Chocolate

After completing the Inca Trail I returned to the delightful, if touristy, City of Cusco. Cusco is the former Andean capital and is viewed by many today as Peru’s historic centre. It is here, by visiting the many Incan (or more accurately Quechuan) museums and ruins that I acquired the bulk of my knowledge about Peru’s intriguing past. Of course it is impossible to look back at the colonial past without drawing conclusions about the conquering European nations. For example, the Inca Temple of Qorikancha was leveled and used as foundations for the Convent of Santo Domingo. While this is undoubtedly a deliberately devastating way to stamp authority on the indigenous culture, it does provide us with an interesting juxtaposition of architectural and cultural styles.

Another highlight of my time in Cusco was at the Chocolate Museum, where I roasted, shelled and ground my own cocoa. The subsequent paste was used to make both Inca and Gringo style hot chocolate. Food historians still debate whether the Inca people consumed chocolate in the same way the Aztecs, Mayans and Mixtecs did, but the modern Peruvian love affair with the stuff cannot be called into question. For them it is a valuable export and an ingredient that is used frequently in their fusion cuisine. The streets of Cusco, you see, are brimming with artisan bakeries, showcasing the best of both South American and continental patisserie. As I was feeling a little celebratory in Cusco I figured the delicious Torta de chocolate, with its pan-continental origins and dark chocolate hit, would best represent my time there. The recipe makes good use of store cupboard ingredients and contains fewer fresh ingredients that we would expect from our own recipes, but the use of oil makes the recipe exceptionally easy to make and delightfully moist.

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Ingredients
480ml whole milk
2tbsp white vinegar
360g plain flour
1tbsp baking powder
120g good quality cocoa
180ml vegetable or rapeseed oil
3 eggs
560 g caster sugar
1tsp vanilla extract

Chocolate glaze:
1 tin condensed milk (397g)
1 tin evaporated milk (410g)
60g good quality cocoa
1tsp vanilla extract
1 knob of butter

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Method

1. Preheat oven to 180°.

2. Line a 26–28cm round cake tin with baking parchment and grease lightly.

3. Add the vinegar to the milk and set aside.

4. In a big bowl combine the flour, baking powder and cocoa.

5. Constantly stirring, add first the oil, then the milk, then the eggs and lastly the sugar and vanilla extract. Mix thoroughly.

6. Pour the cake batter into the prepared tin. Make sure it’s no more than ¾ full as the cake will rise.

7. Bake for about 45-60 minutes, until an inserted skewer comes out clean and the cake has withdrawn from the sides of the tin.

8. Allow to cool for ten minutes then turn out onto a wire rack until ready.

9. For the chocolate glaze, dissolve the cocoa in 3 tablespoons warm evaporated milk.

10. Put the sweetened condensed milk, the evaporated milk and the cocoa mix into a saucepan. Stirring the entire time cook at a rolling boil until the mixture thickens and gets creamy. This might take 10 to 15 minutes.

11. Add vanilla extract and butter. Remove from heat.

12. Split your cake in half with a bread knife.

13. Spread half of the glaze between the two cakes and half over the top, with a warmed palette knife.

Alfajores

Paracas was a uniquely beautiful but small coastal town, where we stopped for a few short days. It’s position, overlooking the pacific ocean meant the climate stayed cool, despite the dessert surroundings. A number of interesting trips can be organised here (the tourist information centre incidentally is run from a bus station-slash-hostel). My favourite was a boat ride out to Isla Balletas, cruelly referred to by some as “the poor man’s Galapagos”, the Balletas Islands are home to a variety of native birds such as boobies, cormorants, vultures and pelicans. There are also a ton of sea lions and the odd dolphin if you’re lucky. From there a trip can be arranged to the unique salt dessert, where it virtually never rains and you can see large crystals of salt under the crunchy upper sand layer. This unique terrain was created millions of years ago during the last ice age, when the water withdrew. Movement of tectonic plates has pushed this ancient ocean floor well above sea level. This seemingly desolate landscape is punctuated by lakes and glimpses of coast line, that appear like mirages between the vast expanses of sand.

But what I liked best about Paracas was the simplicity of the available cuisine. My hotel, which was the poshest I have stayed at so far, provided simple food that was cooked and presented immaculately. Likewise the surrounding restaurants, provided similar simple but quality fare. My favourite discovery however was in a small, murkily lit, dilapidated shop. Nestled in amongst the chocolate and crisps were some Alfajores. I had some vague knowledge of this biscuit, which is produced across many countries on the south American continent. But they were better than I had imagined.

A simple sandwich biscuit at first glance, the shortbread like rounds are especially short and crumbly, with a moderate but pleasing buttery taste. But better than the texture is the generous layer of Dulce de Leche nestled in between, which serves to provide notes of caramel, whilst simultaneously preventing the biscuit from falling apart completely in your hands. A simple garnish of icing sugar completes the look. As I continued to travel through Peru I tasted several variants, with slightly differing textures, some which had their sticky sides coated in dessicated coconut and others dunked in quality Peruvian chocolate. Here I have attempted to create a similar biscuit, but this time I will let you off and allow you to purchase the dulce ready made in order to save time. For those interested, a recipe for homemade Dulce de Leche will follow in the coming weeks. These treats are ludicrously high in sugar, so don’t let the delicate melting texture fool you – eat responsibly.

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Level: low/medium
Methods: rubbing-in
Skills: baking

Time: 1 hour 45 minutes (including cooling and filling)
Makes: around 12 sandwich biscuits

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Ingredients
175g self raising flour
125g cornflour
50g icing sugar
225g butter, diced
1 egg yolk
1 tsp vanilla essence
Dulce de Leche (397 g tin of carnation caramel is an easily available substitute)

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Method

1. Preheat the oven to 160ºC and line a couple of baking sheets with baking parchment.

2. Place the flour, cornflour and icing sugar in a food processor and pulse for a few seconds to mix. Then add the butter, egg yolk and vanilla and turn the machine on until it all comes together into a ball of dough.

3. Place the dough in between two sheets of cling film, flatten slightly with the palm of your hand and refrigerate for 20 minutes.

4. Remove the dough from the fridge. It should be slightly firmer now but not solid. Keeping it sandwiched in between the cling film, roll it out to a 1/4 thickness using a rolling pin. The short dough will invariably crack around the edges but don’t get frustrated, it is quite forgiving and can be rerolled multiple times.

5. Stamp out 24 rounds using a plain or fluted 2-inch round cutter, rerolling the dough as necessary until all of it is gone.

6. Place the cookies on the prepared baking sheets, 12 per sheet and at least 1/2 inch apart. Bake 1 sheet at a time until the biscuits are firm and pale golden on the bottom, about 12 to 14 minutes. (The biscuits will remain pale on top.)

7. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely. Take care, the cookies are even more delicate when warm, so work slowly unless you want a pile of broken biscuits.

8. When cool, flip half of the cookies upside down and gently spread about 2 teaspoons of the dulce de leche onto each. Place a second cookie on top and gently press to create a sandwich.

9. Dust generously with powdered sugar before serving.