The Art of the Sandwich

Cooking is full of waxing lyrical about tastes, pontification on what and what shouldn't be done and snobbery as foreign (French and Italian) words are bandied about: Uttered  through the nose or with excessive gesturing. But food, as so many other things in life (and don't we so often forget it) does not have to be exotic or complicated to be enjoyed.

And what can be more simple than the humble sandwich? I have something of a love affair with sandwiches: their morish tastiness never fails to satisfy and astonish me with the enjoyment I take in having a good one with a cup of tea.

It started at school. Like so many South African school children, a sandwich was my lunch-time staple and  I had my fair share of end-of the week, peanut butter on dry-ish brown bread. This never bothered me that much at the time ( though now I might pull up my nose at one) because at school I always had an appetite to rival any of the boys' and so slightly dry or not, my lunch was generally finished before the bell had even begun to ring for break time, when I would oggle the contents of my friends' lunchboxes. But in all fairness, coming from a family that has always valued tasty food, my sandwiches were, more often than not, tasty and since I was so quick to gobble them up, the tomato never even had a chance to soak into the bread!

Fast-forward to life after the playground and my time has been dedicated to that well made sandwich. The idea that the Earl of Sandwich popped his delicate between two pieces of bread so that he could carry on eating without sullying his cards, sounds like the most sensible thing in the world to me, and I probably would have done exactly the same if only to be able to enjoy a tasty morsel while living through the characters of my favourite novels. Talk of warm bread and cheese in Lord of the Rings probably imparted more of the community and personality of the hobbits than all of Tolkien's description and the fact that they took time out of their epic journey to always sit down and eat the aforementioned bread and cheese (what better than a cheese sandwich?) impressed on my mind that these must, indeed be wonderful little creatures with an assured innate goodness.

Eating is more than essential, it is an art, even if it is just taking a moment to construct and enjoy the simple things. Taking a few moments to compose a delicious sandwich, in my opinion, is exactly a manifestation of that art. When, in the fifth book, Mostly Harmless, of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Arthur Dent eventually becomes the official sandwich maker of the small planet that his spacecraft has crashed into, I felt such a resonance that there can indeed be no better calling that Douglas Adams had indeed seen deep into my heart and published that short part of the story just for me. But then I think that, like so many other readers, Arthur Dent, for all his irritability, must be tolerated because he is in constant search for a good sandwich and cup of tea. That search and his unfulfilled desire for a lovely sandwich and cup of tea is, I would argue, the engine that propels the story! (It certainly drives my day. Who said that fantasy fiction is far removed from our world clearly knows nothing of the matter!

Well, having cleared up the importance of the sandwich in history, literature, morality (what else is Tolkien's epic about but the problems that the rustic English person faces?) so indeed, daily life!- you can see that it really is an art form.

I promised that I wouldn't be dogmatic about sandwich making, and indeed I recommend experimenting with all kinds of fillings. I even put a sprinkling of flax and sesame seeds onto mine (I'm nuts about these seeds at the moment). Only, keep these three rules in mind: Use a good bread that is still relatively fresh; If you use tomato on the sandwich make sure that the tomato is at room temperature( all the better if it has been ripening in the sun) and crack your fresh salt and pepper directly onto the tomato slices which should not to be too thin or too thick, but can be as many as you like. And lastly, since a sandwich is an entire meal in itself, balance the filling so that each bite gives you the best combination of the ingredients you have used to fill your sandwich.

Remeber every day is an opportunity to have a sandwich and cup of tea- As I have been writing this blog I realise that waiting for lunch time to aproach has created a longing almost as strong as Athur Dent's throughout his travels through the universe!

Bon Apetite!

My Favourite Cook Books

The other day, while sifting through a pile of cookbooks I came across The Return of the Naked Chef. And with it the Jamie Oliver mania that made Jamie Oliver to cookery what the Beatles were to music. I have fond memories of watching the programmes "The Naked Chef" and "The Return of the Naked Chef". If I remember correctly, the show used to come on on a Sunday afternoon and I couldn't wait to get my fix of the hot Essex boy who lived in a funky London flat and who drove a little Vesper to Borough Market  (where I would wonder through on my Friday lunch breaks when I worked on the South Bank in London - I would always take longer than my allotted hour perusing the stalls with all their wares- oops!) to get his fresh ingredients which he would then, with a lot of charm and very little effort - that was the idea of the Naked Chef: stripping it down to simple good tastes and easy methods- into something super tasty which they'd all enjoy at the end of the programme.

He'd give me the salad dressing to make and while I shook the jam jar

and batted my eyelids at him,

he'd smile and saying to the camera that he'd have to taste it,

"Wow! That tastes fantastic love!"

How I dreamed of being part of that scene: Jamie, would invite me over to his flat as they were filming one of the episodes and we'd whip up something wonderful. He'd give me the salad dressing to make and while I shook the jam jar (do you remember he had this brilliant idea of making salad dressings in a jam jar; no bowls to wash up) and batted my eyelids at him, he'd smile and saying to the camera that he'd have to taste it ( all good chefs do, you know!)  "Wow! That tastes fantastic love!" In the way that he does and then the programme would come to an end and all our friends would arrive and we'd all have an extraordinary amount of fun as the credits ran. All the viewers would strain to see us laughing as we went out of focus in the background, sorry that they couldn't see more as the production company's name and logo took over the screen signalling the absolute end of the episode. And twenty minutes later they'd still be wondering what the happy little dinner party was doing now.           

Ok, so I had a tendency to daydream- and besides, Jamie was already married at that stage to his missus, "the lovely Jools", to whom he dedicates Return of the Naked Chef. But my, who thought that advertising organic ingredients (a buzz word that was relatively new at the time in SA) could be so sexy. But then, as an 18 year old food-lover, the blond 24 year old chef on TV didn't have to try very hard to make it onto my list of most desirable men. Who says that food is only the way to a man's heart? Give me a man who can russel up a peach, rocket and goats' cheese salad or sticky ribs any day!

On a meagre allowance, I remember saving up to buy the book with Jamie's smiling face on it. I had previously wangled The Naked Chef as a Christmas present and I would lovingly turn the glossy pages with their large, bright pictures of food between the recipes. I was startled, paging through the book now, to see how young he looked! Now that I'm older, bad-boy Gordon Ramsay's sharp looks catch my imagination.

But this post is about Jamie. You can't stop the passage of time, but the recipes and Jamie's philosophies in the cookbook are still valid, but looking back it is interesting to remember that in so many ways he pioneered the idea of cooking being hip. No fuss, just fresh, pukka food, though there is no doubt about it, that he was also part of the Italian food obsession revolution. But who can blame him - the Italians know            how to eat.

I still follow Jamie's "Food Revolution" on Facebook, but it seems a little bit more like cooking and politics- a tad too serious. But then I guess, we all have to grow up sometime....

Thai Vegetable Soup with Coriander Pesto.

The First of September announces spring in the Southern Hemisphere, but here in Cape Town, despite the tantalising appearances of sunny days, the wind still has a chill about it as it ushers in cold-fronts which deliver rain well into October.

And on those rainy days, as on cold ones, there are few things more comforting in winter than a warm soup, and at that one that has a little heat. Soups are also perfect for winter because they are packed with vitamins that ward off colds. I love soup, from the simple to the thick vegi-packed variety. But this soup has a delicate aroma which sets it apart and hints at the balmy warmth of those places which are famous for their spicy foods in the same way that spring hints at the heat of the summer that is to come. I really think that this soup is something of a treat in terms of flavour which comes from the sesame, flax and sunflower seeds which you heat up with coriander seeds before adding the vegetables. Garlic is fantastic in all seasons not only because of its flavour, but also because it has mild anti-septic and decongestant properties that help guard against colds and flu.

The coriander pesto is an addition which makes this a soup that can be served at a dinner party and will impress. The chili in this pesto adds punch to the soup.
Add a few prawns (two or three per person) to add body and serve as a main.


Ingredients:

Soup
15ml sesame seed oil
1 tblsp sesame seeds
1 tblsp sunflower seeds
1 tblsp flaxseeds
1 tsp coriander seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds

1 small cinnamon stick

small clove of garlic

2 leeks

4 spring onions

a small bunch of coriander

2 medium sweet potatoes

1 small butternut

3 large carrots

1 litre chicken stock

Coriander pesto

a large bunch of coriander

1/2 cup of lemon juice

1/4 cup olive oil

30ml flaxseed oil

1/2 cup pumpkin seeds

1/4 cup sunflower seeds

1 chili

1 large clove of garlic.

Cut up the spring onions and leeks into rounds and toss together with the shredded coriander. Crush the garlic. Cut the carrots julienne. Cut the sweet potato and butternut into small cubes. (This part requires a little effort and can also be done in advance and frozen and taken out when needed) Alternatively, just get it ready cut from the shops! No need to slave away when the convenience is there for the taking (off the shelf)

On a heavy-based pot, throw in the seeds and allow them to slowly toast. Be careful not to let them burn and you should see oil from the sesame, sunflower and flax seeds. Add the cinnamon stick. The cumin seeds may pop, so just be careful and when the seeds are toasted, remove from the heat. Add a little more sesame seed oil, if you need to, and then throw in the leeks, spring onions and garlic. Allow this to become translucent. Add the rest of the vegetables and stir while they fry briefly. Add the chicken stock and bring to the boil, topping with water as required until the vegetables are tender.

The coriander pesto is easiest to make with a hand held blender but can be made in an ordinary blender if you stir the mixture around the blades. Needless to say- BE VERY CAREFUL when you do this and make sure that the blender is off: I switch it off at the plug each time, just out of caution. You can also shake the blender when the power is on, but be careful again, not to overheat the motor. If you are using a hand held blender simply pop all the dry ingredients and lemon juice into a bowl. Drizzle in the oil and blend until smooth. Otherwise place the same ingredients into the blender blend as best you can as you drizzle in the oils. It may not turn out super-smooth but the texture that you do get is interesting and, I think, adds to the flavour. Pop into an airtight, sanatised jar to keep in the fridge or spoon a tablespoon immediately on each serving of soup . Stir in the pesto before eating and serve with crispy chiabatta rounds drizzled with flaxseed oil.

You can make the pesto a day before and the flavours will intensify. The pesto will keep for a week in the fridge and can be tossed into warm couscous and served as a side dish or add a tomato and onion salsa and crumble a hard-boiled egg (one per person) on the top and grind some fresh salt and pepper and serve as a light meal. Otherwise this makes a great base on crackers topped with a dollop of Crème Fraîche, lemon zest and a smoked mussel.

Bon Apetite!