Festive Roast Chicken with sage stuffing, roast potatoes and sautéed green beans

Monday night was always a night for roasts in our household. Being a family that placed a lot of store by food, I think it came from the school of thought that if you started the week off with a good , sturdy roast, then you were more or less set, what ever events would unfold themselves later on in the week.

This Monday proved to be rather a different reason than the fact that the frivolities of the weekend had  passed and that we were now firmly ensconced in the working week. Truth be told there seems to be very little work to do and since it is the festive season, but more so this Monday was a day to celebrate because my sister had arrived from Oz and one of my best friends had arrived from London.

So there we are, when we celebrate, we eat and this Monday called for more than just an ordinary roast chicken, but a festive one.

A note on roast chicken: It is the easiest thing in the world to cook. Once it is in the oven, your work is done. 

One of the flavours that rings true of festivities and the Christmas season has to be a sage stuffing. I love sage, I have to say and have been planning a blog on the herb for some time – oh, how evert-day life gets in the way! -– because it can be used in so many dishes to impart its somewhat fresh but earthy flavour. And where better to start than in a sage stuffing?

So for the stuffing:

2 thick slices of seed bread.

1 celery stalk

¼ onion

2 rahsers of bacon

1 T lemon zest

1 T dried sage

salt and pepper

This is easy, easy easy:

Make breadcrumbs out of the two slices of bread in a blender and pour them into a bowl

Zap up the onion and celery and add that to the breadcrumbs. Do the same with the bacon.

Season with salt and pepper and add the sage and lemon zest. Mix the whole lot up and then put ¾ of the stuffing into the cavity of the chicken and then place the last quarter carefully under the skin that covers the chicken breasts. Be careful not to break the skin as you pack the stuffing. Putting the stuffing here not only creates additional basting for the white meat that can dry out, it also provides extra flavouring.

Place the bird in a roasting dish. Roughly chop up the rest of the onion and place around the chicken. Cook at 180 degrees for about ½ hour.

For the rest: As many carrots and potatoes as you need

In the mean-time, peel as many potatoes that you may need and then proportionately same amount of carrots. After the ½ hour, throw these into the same baking pan, adding a few glugs of olive oil and a generous grinding of salt and black pepper and some sprigs of rosemary. Return to the oven and allow to cook for another hour at 180 degrees.

For the beans:

1 pkt green beans

1 truss vine baby tomatoes

5 T sunflower seeds or flaked almonds

1 t mustard seeds

2 T butter

1 T olive oil

In a pan, toast the sunflower and mustard seeds. Add the tomatoes, and then the butter and the olive oil.  Add the beans and toss. Season with salt and pepper and toss again. Remove from the heat.

To check that the chicken is cooked make a small incision between the thigh and the body and if the juices run clear then the chicken is done.

Lay the beans on a platter. Then put the chicken in the center and surround with the veggies that you've just roasted.

I always make the gravy in the roasting pan that I made the chicken and the veg in. For one thing there are all the spices and the drippings and the flavour of those now wonderfully caramalised onions!

Carve the chicken and voilá!

Oh, a note on the wine:  we started on a nice bottle of bubbly with a little bit of finger food. There must be Mediterranean blood in me because we ended up eating at 9:30 pm - but that is no matter because we were chatting and there were hors d'ouvres. We opened a bottle of merlot to have with the dish and it went down extremely well even though we were eating white meat. Sage is quite a strong flavour and so it compliments reds quite well.  You don't always have to follow the white wine / white meat rule!

A little Tuesday dinner at Bizerca Bistro

An odd name to choose for a restaurant, but the evening did turn out to be a little on the odd side, so I guess that that was fitting then.

I was delighted to be picked up for the evening even though my companion's driver was evidently off that night and because he stayed almost adjacent to the restaurant, was told that I was lucky to get a lift. None-the-less, I could live with this considering he was a fellow gourmand who had wooed me into giving him my number with rose water-flavoured promises of an eight course tasting menu at Cellars-Hohenort's Greenhouse.


There was a big walk going on in Cape Town central that held up the traffic and which seemed to complicate parking arrangements. These were eventually reached after circumventing the venue, via Heerengracht Traffic circle... and then through the Adderly street circle because we couldn't get around the first, driving through a police barrier (kindly moved aside by a bergie) and then reversing 100 m down Hans Strijdom Avenue (happily not busy because I assume that the barrier that we had driven through, had now been replaced by an official. I fear that this was something of an oddity for my companion, who is a Joburger and who assumes that one always parks at a venue and not near it.

But, the bistro was just down the road and my heels, high but sensible (as a seasoned Capetionian, I am accustomed to find the first available parking within 500m and then walking to my destination)  were up for the little stroll down to Tilbugh square, where we found ourselves at Bizerca.

The  restaurant is elegant and we were lavishly welcomed by the host in French as we were swept inside and taken to our table.

Starters and mains were chalked on blackboards but we were given the seasonal menu as well. The asparagus with prawns and hollandaise sauce immediately caught my attention. I was in for a treat I thought smugly.

The wine selection is excellent, though don't expect a sauvignon blanc or a wooded chardonnay by the glass.

None the less, the waiter waxed lyrical about the hollandiase sauce pairing with the viognier, which was slightly more on the melted butter side and less on the sauce side and not all together that tasty. And then there were little cubes of tart tomato which I snobbishly ignored and left on my plate. The viognier which the waiter recommended was excellent and a beautiful honey colour, but not with the starter where it became overly acidic. The unwooded chardonnay, whcih was more acidic at first might have mellowed out and proved better at pulling the dish through, especially with the tomato. (Which might have been nice if they were boiled in cream. I can't really comment on the prawns in the dish since they were hardly there.

My companion's veal tongue looked very interesting, but I wasn't sure if it was beyond the boundries of politesse to ask for a taste. He was definitely enjoying it so I didn't want to interrupt.

The courses were well paced and there was a great deal of chit-chat and laughing, as we talked of travel and art and, well, food like old friends.

The main course however was superb! The beef bourguignon was delicious and the malbec which we had with it complemented it superbly! The beef was tender and the little mushrooms, onions, carrots and potatoes that attended the beef were all cooked to perfection. I have to say that I could not leave any of it behind. I did briefly consider mopping up the sauce with a bit of bread but then my companion did that for me.

And how could I deny him the pleasure of tasting that delicious sauce?

Dessert was a surprise as the berry panacotta trifle came in a martini glass. Quite pleasantly it came with an aside of berry sorbet that had a shot of vodka at the bottom of the glass.

Refreshing. I always like a bit of a digestif – in fact I had been craving a vodka martini the whole evening because I had just signed a contract and as everybody knows, a vodka martini is the only way to celebrate. But I fear that the vodka perhaps did me in. Oh who am I kidding? When I mix white and red wine, even with food, I'm a cheap date and I was having a very entertaining time.

That said, the espresso was excellent. Though it does mean that I am still up at 1am writing this post.

Mr Vidulich, you will be pleased to know that after all, that you were indeed right in your estimation and that I would still give the place a 6 out of 10.

 A little harsh, I know, but mostly becuase of the aircon that was suddenly set to artic blast at around 10:30. And that we were constantly asked which dish we had ordered. So service could do with a bit of a dusting up.

No lingering there then, unless you went to go and peruse the cellar, which was slightly warmer than the 14 degrees it should have been but a more comfortable temperature than the restaurant itself, like that of a sunning room in fact, in comparison to the rest of the restaurant. I could have happily sat down and opened one of the expensive bottles of wine (a bottle of boujoulais and the Russell-Hamilton pinot noir caught my eye) and enjoyed it in there. Indeed both the location and temperature were conducive to being a little on the mischievous side - except the walls were glass and the wine would have cost a fortune if we had been caught at it!

Flaked Salmon with green beans and faux hollandaise sauce

It is an odd phenomenon that in exciting, but slightly stressful situations, that people in our family will turn to cooking or at least eating, gourmet.

Before I was to get on a plane back to SA after a wonderful holiday in the States and then in London for two weeks, that a certain resident of a house in Putney will remember a rich lunch meal of smashed baby potatoes, grilled salmon with an apricot glaze with asparagus and hollandaise sauce. Did we manage a glass of Bordeaux white with it? I can't quite remember, but I do remember the meal precisely because I made it as I was keeping one eye on the clock to make sure that this culinary delight was served and eaten before I had to take that tiresome trek out to Heathrow.

I'm not entirely sure what this is about, a kind of combination between being set on using the best ingredients in the fridge if we are not going to be present to eat them (which shows an unexplained possessiveness over our food) and a last meal, if you will. Whatever stressful situation may arise out of travelling at least we will be secure in the knowledge that we dined like kings before we left the house for the airport.

My sister left to go to Australia for, ostensibly forever, but for the meantime just six weeks to be with her boyfriend on Friday.  And sure enough, at 8 am she was (if you'll excuse the pun) fishing the salmon steaks that she had bought earlier in the week out of the freezer. "Shall I make us some salmon for breakfast?" she yelled from the kitchen. Followed, a few short seconds and some scrambling sounds of freezer drawers opening and closing, with "Don't you want to make us something delicious with this chorizo sausage? " and " I definitely should make these pies, they'll just go off!"

Bearing in mind that I am not a morning person at all and that at 8 am I was in all likelyhood not awake until I could not ignore the repartee emerging from the kitchen, with some instinctual knowledge that on the occasion that one's sister is leaving the country, one should invariably cook up a feast, I managed to yell back: "If you're going to make the salmon then you should probably use the rest of the fresh green beans in the fridge."

"Here's your tea!" trilled my sister. Knowing that this was the only lever that had enough leverage to extricate me from my bed.

As I came into the kitchen, I pointed out that she should have rather used milk instead of a whole egg to put on the pies so that they'd turn brown.

"How should I do the salmon?" she asked.
"Steam it," I said while swallowing the first sips of warm tea, "over the green beans."

"Here," and I was passed two thirds of a beaten egg in a cup. "Can't you do something with this?"

"Well do we have lemon?" I asked peering into the fridge.

We did and so the remaining egg mixture went into a stainless steel bowl and was whisked briskly with a quarter lemon's juice.

Hmmm, I could not quite remember how to make a hollandaise sauce but it seemed like a good idea to cook the egg and the salmon and beans having been removed from the pot, I whipped the stainless steal bowl over and carried on whisking.

Ah, that was better, the sauce was thickening. And not a lump in sight! A crack of black pepper and coarse salt, and a lug of olive oil (just because that seemed like the right thing to do) and I was done.

A not exactly, but a rather lovely lemon-tasting and lower-fat version of hollandaise sauce completed the salmon that had been flaked over the beans.

Tea was done: now it was time for breakfast and an hour till we had to leave to go to the airport.

A Visit with Shannon Draper at the Gravel Garden

 
On Tuesday, I spent all of a lovely morning with Shannon Draper of The Gravel Garden in Somerset West. After a warm welcome and a great cup of coffee, Shannon showed me around her garden where she grows organic and heirloom varietal vegetables.

Heirloom Varietals are any variety of vegetable that has not been hybradised. They are open-pollinated plants that produce true seed. In other words, seeds that will grow into a plant that is the same as the parent plant that they come from.

From a hybradised plant the seed will give you a variety of results, throwbacks to one of the kinds of plants that were chosen to make up that vegetable to increase its shelf life, produce uniform fruit for packing and shipping and often compromising on taste.

Shannon's beds were being repositioned and she was in the process of turning their old swimming pool into an underground storage facility for rain and greywater. An eco-friendly solution in what becomes a very hot Somerset West in the summer months.

In the meantime though, I was able to see her seedlings in their greenhouse, a structure that again was saved and made useful in it's current form. Seed containers are cleverly made out of newspaper (see below) so that they can simply be put straight into the ground.

Other containers sported the names of tomatoes  that were reminiscent of far-off times and places and whose words left a TASTE  of the exotic and the historic on your tongue as you said them.

The picture of what they would be was complimented by colour descriptions such as pink, red, black and brown, green, orange or, more exotic and tantalising: striped tomatoes!

After a brief peep into the chicken run, Shannon took me out back to a shed and deck that she is building where  other gardeners can come and swap their own produce for  what she  has or what other  people may bring to the stall.  The idea being to   reuse and recycle and not let the excess produce of people's gardens go to waste.

Eventually, she adds, she would like to invite local chefs and foodies cook in something like a closed door restaurant.  Having had ideas of a pop-up restaurant  for some time myself (watch this space), I found this idea wildly exciting.

 

But what I really appreciate about Shannon's approach to growing her produce, is that more than anything, it is a starting point to foster a sense of community.

Shannon's beautifully presented THE GRAVEL GARDEN seed packs

Shannon sells her seeds online. She is very particular about making sure that no cross-pollination happens and that her seed is true seed. See her website THE GRAVEL GARDEN. Also take a look at some of her beautiful picture of the fascinating heirloom varietals that she has grown.

I bought seeds from her and will certainly document with anticipation and great excitement the arrival of their fruit - an excitement only surpassed by what I can then cook with these wonderous "new" varieties at my disposal! 

A Little Dinner Before The Play

I recently came across Agnes Jekyll's "A little Dinner Before the Play" a collection of her "Kitchen Essays"that was published in The Times in the 1920's  put together by Penguin earlier this year.

It is, in a few short words, delightful. I think particularly for me because of their historical information about food. Being interested in food, I am interested in people (not necessarily those that are still living, mind, who can be somewhat annoying!) But those that have gone before exist at a safe distance and in that way I find are a great deal more endearing to me.

For instance, I know that Lady Jekyll and myself would have been very good friends, both taking an interest in food and both acknowledging that one is not at one's best first thing in the morning - though she published these thoughts in The Times almost 90 years ago and for those of you who have never met me, for the first time, now on this blog.  But I do feel so strongly on the idea that getting up before the sun rising is wrong, that I'll be surprised that I haven't written it somewhere else. All the more reason form the cheerful breakfast tray which she prescribes!

But I digress: this is not about me, but about Lady Jekyll.  Agnes, from her writing seems like a perfectly no nonsense kind of woman who found that all things being equal, and even if they weren't, that they were to be rectified immediately by putting effort into how and what you provided your guests with, but moreover, by putting careful thought into what guests ate.

Here is one such example. She says:

God made the first Christmas and man has ever-since been busy spoiling it. Year by year, the propaganda of the shops grows increasingly active (what would she have said today?) ; and their suggestion for the keeping of that high feast, including such secular items as dozens of brandy, whisky, and champagne, appear annually more elaborate and incongruous than never before.

So she doesn't hide her indignation at the fact that then friends will come from the countryside to Town in order to procure said brandy and champagne. But does she hold it against them? Of course not! Being delighted that she should see her friends, she suggests that the gracious Town hostess would make for them such delights for tea (read here an almost three course lunch to allow them relief from the effort of being on their feet and flitting from one shop to the next) as they would not be able to make in their country abode due to their being unable to procure the ingredients: A dear friend indeed!

The effort (or her cook's effort - since she was lucky enough to oversee one - though I have no doubt that if she saw her cook doing something incorrectly that she would take over and instruct with the good intention of bettering her cook's skills) that she went to in proving them with such fare leaves us in no doubt as to her being much treasured as such.

Some of her recipes do seem a little on the difficult side, but she seems not to have been one to spare the horses on account of her guests' happiness!

She would insist that guests enjoy themselves and in doing so, benevolently allow others to do so - another point with which I sit in solidarity with her on.

She was after all, a famed philanthropist, which starts in the kitchen.

I'm so delighted to have met her through her writings!

Fresh Produce: It's hard to beat the pleasure of eating just-picked tomatoes off the vine

Dear Readers,

I thought that I'd just share with my readers, my own little mid-summer triumph. After lovingly tendering my potted vegetable garden on the landing to my flat, there is suddenly a ripening crop of tomatoes and one whole and decent-sized green pepper to show for my efforts! All spurred to grow well with the help of my worm tea from my mini worm-farm. Feel oddly proud of myself for orchestrating their growth. Now I can't wait to munch them up!

Which is what I then did: This was the best cheese and tomato sandwich ever! The tomatoes were so sweet.

Whip up something quick for dinner

Busy, busy, busy? About to stop off for some fast food on your way back from work. Don't! Make this really quick all veg and absolutely satisfying dinner instead.  Makes enough for two.

• 1 tblsp sesame seed oil
• 1 clove garlic
• 2cm peeled ginger- grated
• 1/2 onion
• 1/2 green pepper
• 2 celery stalks, thinly cut
• 1/4 large red cabbage or one small red cabbage
• 2 carrots, peeled and grated
• 1/2 tsp ground coriander
• 1/2 tsp ground cumin
• 2 tblsps soya sauce
• flat tblspn chili sauce
• salt and pepper 
• 1/2 cup couscous (or enough for two people- follow the instructions on the pack)

Prepare the couscous

Heat the sesame oil in the pan, then pop in the chopped garlic, the ginger and the onion. Soften. Shred the cabbage and thinly slice the green pepper and the celery. Toss in the oil. Add the grated carrot.

Stir fry for about 2 minutes adding the soya sauce. Stir through the chili sauce.

Add the coriander, cumin. Stir. Add the salt and pepper.

Done once you've dished it out over the couscous!