Oh come on, seriously? A salad? Another fennel salad in the deep dark depths of winter. It seems I have a thing for dreaming up raw fennel/fruit combinations during the coldest shortest weeks of the year, though I assure you that this is not crazy at all, uh huh.
Recently I was lucky enough to receive a Murray Valley Moisture-Infused Pork Rack in a goody bag from the Yuletide Pork dinner at Restaurant Atelier put on by Australian Pork. What a surprise, 1.2kg of delicious pork with which to do whatever I pleased! Mel from Fooderati presented us with a masterchef-style challenge, so the pressure was on. Now, this was a little bit of a problem for me as I have never ever made crackling, never cooked a pork roast and have only recently started cooking pork at all. To top it all off, only the week before hand I had made this interesting, unusual and beautiful Pork Chops with Beetroot Relish. I stupidly had already played my only pork trick. Now I was on my own, in true Masterchef style.
The June Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Jasmine of Confessions of a Cardamom Addict and Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar. They chose a Traditional (UK) Bakewell Tart… er… pudding that was inspired by a rich baking history dating back to the 1800′s in England.
Writing doesn’t come as naturally to me as cooking, or more visual pursuits (and my backlog of posts is proof of this). I am a little bit of a perfectionist and if I tweaked and tinkered as much as I would like this blog wouldn’t exist. This is an exercise in letting go more than anything else.
Sometimes I sit down here to write and can barely string two sentences together. On a day like today, the posting day for the latest Daring Bakers challenge, this is a very bad thing. No words = no post, so what do I do? Get distracted. By my latest new cookbook, other peoples blogs, pretty internet nibbles or, as happened today, facebook scramble.
I met my mate Kate at the Eveleigh Markets one recent Saturday. I was throwing her an extra special cooking class devoted entirely to (vegetarian) things I wanted to make (the best kind of class), and then eat the dinner that was to follow. Earlier I had put the call out on twitter for some interesting pud. Y suggested sticky date, which I unfortunately had to refuse. F had attempted one earlier in the week and I was all butterscotched out, if that is even possible. Then Kathryn suggested surprise pudding.
Tastes change.
I used to hate mushrooms, though you’d never know it if you saw me inhaling the garlic mushrooms at a Tapas bar. I also turned my nose up at Brussels Sprouts until very recently and now I can’t get enough of the little cabbagy delights. As children, we often deem strong tastes repulsive, pushed to the edge of the plate and ignored, unless the threat of “no dessert!” forces them down. Sometimes these tastes last til adulthood and beyond, other times palates expand and embrace these new flavours. Continue reading
