The bread renaissance is still in full flight over here and this is the pinnacle. I use grated cheddar cheese and thick strips of ham (I buy it like that from the deli, you can get the cubes if you so wish) in equal quantities and learnt quickly to pile it on top of the bread – too little and it doesn’t produce the best result. I’ve made it with the beer no knead bread and the straight no knead variety.
No knead cheese and bacon rolls
3 cups bread flour
1 1/2 cups water (and a splash more)
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp dry yeast
Mix it all together until a shaggy mess (don’t try and make it look pretty, just make sure it’s all combined) then cover and leave for 8 to 18 hours (I’ve left it as long as 24 and it still works a treat)
Turn it out onto a floured bench and turn it in on itself about 8 times – as in look at the dough on the bench, bring the top of the dough to the middle, the bottom up to the middle, the sides into the middle and then do it again.
Break the dough into as many rolls as you like – 8 big ones if you want to replicate those of certain bread chains, 12 if you want a more reasonable number and 18 if you want delicious 3 bite wonders.
Shape them into nice round balls and place on a baking paper lined tray and cover loosely with either a damp tea-towel or glad wrap and set aside for 2 hours.
Preheat your oven to 220C and mix together 220g grated cheddar cheese and shredded or cubed ham – I use this quantity over 18 rolls. I suspect you wouldn’t need so much if you’re doing big rolls
Take a big pinch of the cheese and ham mix and press it into the tops of each of the rolls. Don’t worry about fall off, that makes the yummy crunchy bits around the base of the roll. And then, once you’ve done each roll, spread any left overs as you see fit.
Bake in the oven for about 20-25 minutes. You want some darker charred bits, golden crunchy bits and melty goodness.
My beautiful friend, fellow breeder of boys and blogger Ruth (of Gourmet Girlfriend fame) has been responsible for a renaissance of no knead bread making. Seriously, check out #ggbreadrevolution on instagram to see all the bready goodness.
Of course this is doing nothing for my current carb binging due to life stress but at least it’s homemade I guess.
Anyway, I’ve been using my failsafe no knead bread recipe from the esteemed Joe and have been experimenting.
Because hot cross buns involve fruit and spices, which inhibit rising agents in dough, most hot cross buns are in a bread base more like a brioche using milk and butter in the dough. I’ve got a great recipe for hot cross buns (see later in post) but decided to see if the no knead recipe worked with fruit and spice.
Things I’d do differently next time and have altered accordingly in the recipe following:
increase yeast to 1/2tsp
reduce sultanas to 3/4 cup
reduce spice to 1tsp cinnamon and 1/2 tsp all spice
cook at higher temp
What, I like sultanas
No knead hot cross buns
3 cups bread flour
1/2 tsp yeast
1 1/2 tsp salt
3/4 cup water, + 2tbsp
1/4 cup beer, + 2tbsp
1 tbsp vinegar
3/4 cup sultanas
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp mixed spice
1/2 cup plain flour
1/3 cup water
Combine the flour, yeast, salt, water, beer and vinegar until it’s a shaggy mess, cover and let sit somewhere warm for 8-18 hours
Turn out onto a floured benchtop and push into a rectangular shape – sprinkle over the sultanas and spices
Fold the two long sides of the rectangle into the middle and then do a couple of folds until the sultanas are spread through the dough – it took me about 10-15 folds.
Divide into 12 buns – they’re about 85 grams each if you’re a stickler for regularity. You can do them individually or make a round starting with one bun in the middle and working outwards.
Mix the 1/2 cup flour and 1/3 cup water together and then drop into a snap lock bag. Clip the corner off one side of the snap lock back and pipe the paste across the buns to form the crosses.
Leave to rise for 2 hours.
Bake at 220C for 20-25 minutes.
Best served on the day of baking and ideally warm, slathered in butter.
Traditional hot cross buns
One of my (many) kryptonite foods
For the buns
2 tblsp dry yeast
1/4 cup caster sugar
1 1/2 cups warm milk
4 cups plain flour
2 tsp mixed spice
2 tsp cinnamon
85g butter, melted
1/3 cup caster sugar
1 1/2 cups sultanas (or 1 cup sultanas, 1/2 cup raisins and/or currants)
1/3 cup candied peel (or finely grated rind of an orange and a lemon)
Combine the yeast, sugar and milk until bubbles form
Add everything else
Mix with a palate knife to combine, then knead for 5-10 minutes
Place dough in an oiled boil and set aside for 30 mins
Knock back, divide into 12 (or 24 to make mini-buns), place in a greased 23cm square tin (or place close together on a baking tray for freer form), cover and let rise until doubled.
Top with cross paste and bake at 200C for 20 mins
Brush over glaze.
For the crosses
1/2 cup plain flour
1/3 cup water
Mix together into a paste
Put into a bag of some description (I use a snaplock bag, then cut off one corner)
Draw crosses over the top
For the glaze
2 tblsp sugar
1 tsp gelatine
2 tblsp water
Combine over heat and cook until the gelatine dissolves
Sydney summers are a trigger event for me which I attribute to being born in December 1972. It held the dubious honour of being the hottest month on record as well as host to the hottest Australian day on record. That is, until yesterday. Yesterday the national average temperature was 40.3THOUSAND degrees Celsius. At the moment weather forecasters in Australia are talking about a DOME OF HEAT which is COVERING THE ENTIRE CONTINENT. Just writing that sentence caused me to stop, shake out my hands, take a deep breath and reassure myself I am not going to die. (SHE LIES! DEATH IS IMMINENT)
There are not enough words for me to adequately express my comprehensive dissatisfaction with the concept and reality of summer. The word itself is a fine example of latin, greek, gaelic and chinese derivatives coming together as not one of them could generate a word off their own bat to truly describe a three month period that delivered sweat, chaffing and clothing with inadequate skin coverage. It is unacceptable.
As we approach summerhell Australians have a competition to see which broadcaster or media outlet will use the phrase “tinderbox” first. We have a record of savage bushfires which are remembered decades later with a reverence normally reserved for the horse race, remembrance and invasion day. It was Tasmania’s turn last week with more than 100 houses razed and 100 people still unaccounted for. One death is too many due to a bushfire but Tasmania is not a big state. Such loss is profound.
In the midst of our own Hades Day yesterday I somehow mustered energy to make a proper dinner for the first time in what felt like months. I know it hasn’t been months but it occurred to me that about 80% if the boys’ diet in the last month has been Fruit Loops* and 2-minute noodles. As my mate Jane said, palm oil and sugar, the food stuffs of champions.
I instagramed the shit out of because, quite frankly, that’s what I do and if we’re NOT instagraming the shit out of dinner then did we really have dinner at all?
Hot summer nights dinner
A lovely follower @clareanna01 left a message on the pic:
Please tell me that you made this and that you will add it to your recipe list on your blog? It’s been a sh*thouse [isn’t that adorable, she did that asterix] couple of weeks down in Tassie and for the first time since last Thurs (when the bushfires started) you’ve made me hungry.
I promised her I’d post the recipes that night and then promptly fell into a codeine induced coma (until I woke up and read from about 1am to 4am because I AM READING AGAIN, thank you Nexus table that I got for my 40th!). Nice work Kim, bring someone traumatised back to the table, make promises and then leave them hungry.
So here we go, a day late but here. A dinner for hot summer nights.
Lime and mint chicken
1kg chicken thighs, cut into strips (depending on how big they are)
1 lime, cut into rough wedges which you then, using your hands, squeeze the juice out of over the chicken and then add the rinds to the bowl
couple of garlic cloves you’ve just smashed with the side of a knife so you can lose the skins
handful of sprigs of mint you’ve roughly torn up or chopped
pinch of salt, couple of turns of the pepper grinder and a few lugs of olive oil
Get your hands in there and smoosh it all together then let it marinate for as long as you’ve got – I gave it a couple of hours in a rare moment of foresight.
Cook on the bbq until done.
I have no idea if this salad is an Australian invention. It smacks of something that Americans would go giddy over and I really don’t want it to be something this country can claim ownership of. It is NOT in the league of the lamington, the pavlova or the ANZAC biscuit although granted it is just as addictive.
It’s officially called Chang’s Noodle Salad I call it The Bogan Salad because COME ON, the ONLY salad ingredient in this is the wombok cabbage. There are shallots in it as well but let’s face it, that we’re listing that as evidence it is a salad is evidence THIS IS NOT A SALAD. What it is is a vehicle for fried noodles, toasted nuts and a dressing made of a LOT of oil, sugar and some more oil.
Hence, bogan salad.
1/2 wombok cabbages, finely shredded
125g packed slivered almonds, toasted
4 shallots, finely sliced
1 packet Chang’s fried noodles
1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 cup vinegar
1/4 cup sugar
2tbsp soy sauce
2tsp sesame oil
Combine the “salad” ingredients in a bowl
Combine the dressing ingredients in a jar and shake until the sugar is dissolved. Don’t try to see if you can reduce the sugar amounts or the oil, just embrace it for what it is and don’t make it every day.
Combine and eat until your head falls off.
Jamie Oliver’s quick pickled cucumber salad
Now, there’s a cucumber salad in the same vein in both Jamie’s 30-minute and his 15-minute meals books. The 30-minute meal one is better and this is the recipe from that book.
1 telegraph cucumber that you’ve peeled into ribbons using a vegetable peeler
a thumb size piece of ginger, about 2cm – although use less depending on your love of ginger
3tbsp olive oil (I don’t bother with this at all anymore)
1tbsp soy sauce
1tsp sesame oil
fresh red chilli – if you want to
Mix the dressing stuff together – and have a taste – add a bit more soy or lime depending on how it tastes. I tend to hold back on the ginger and then add more if it needs it.
Just before you’re going to sit down to eat, toss the ribbons of cucumber in the dressing and sprinkle with coriander all fancy like.
Check out my buns
Jamie Oliver’s 15-minute meals coconut buns
OK, I have to fess up. Someone posted a pic of these on Instagram the night before and all of the above was made basically so I could make – and eat – these. Offering up these little puppies shifts a pretty tasty but fairly normal dinner in this house to fancy, fancy, fancy, f-fancy. And look, I know I say these things are a snap and those of you less comfortable in the kitchen roll your eyes and say on the inside, like I’m ever going to make that.
You need to make these. They’re not that coconutty which I found disappointing. I suspect it’s because he uses light coconut milk but I’m really just guessing. Next time I am contemplating putting a few drops of coconut essence in as well. We shall see.
Now, Jamie whips the dough up in a food processor which is just madness. I LOVE my food processor but hate having to wash it up with a passion I normally reserve for Mythbusters. It’s a ridiculous avoidance-inducing hatred because really, it’s not that hard to wash up. I think it’s a shape thing. Let’s file this under #notsane and not mention it again.
Basically the dough is a SNAP – very similar to that I use for the spring onion (or shallots) pancakes and you can whip it up by hand in minutes without having to wash up weird food processor bowls and lids with funnels. They’re doughy – you’re going to tear a bit off, whack a bit of chicken on it with a piece of gingery vinergary cucumber and forget that it’s still 38C at 7:30pm.
400ml tin of lite coconut milk
2 tinfuls of SR flour
pinch of salt
Combine everything until it comes together and knead it slightly until it’s smooth. This is not like a bread or pizza dough, I’m talking like a minute or two. In hindsight I probably could have kneaded mine for a minute or two longer but seriously, COCONUT BUNS!
Roll it into a log, cut it into 8 pieces and roll them into balls.
Place each one inside 2 muffin cases then in an Asian steamer – I didn’t have muffin cases so just bunged them in the steamer that I’d lined with baking paper. Worked a charm.
Then steam them for about 7-8 minutes. You’ll know if they’re done by just pulling them apart slightly and seeing if they’re cooked or still doughy.
It actually feels criminal calling that a recipe.
So there you have it. The perfect dinner for hot summer nights.
*only ever purchased in the holidays and this time around conveniently on special. At last count I think we’d gone through eight boxes.
my ‘go to’ non-junk food comfort food (which I’m currently trying to rebadge discomfort food but with minimal success) is bread. Not any bread, proper bread. Sourdough or something wholesome. With a dish of extra virgin olive oil, drops of balsamic vinegar, sea salt flakes and freshly ground black pepper. I can eat that shit till my head falls off. Or my stomach so distended my arms can’t reach the bench anymore.
I have my firm favourite homemade bread which I firmly stuck to throughout the whole no knead bread fad. But the other day I had a hankering to try something new and of course it was my ‘ole mate Joke who came to the party with a recipe that hit the spot. You do need a cast iron pot with a lid but apart from that I am guessing you could go coco bananas with what sort of flour, beer and vinegar you use.
(Almost) No Knead Bread
3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons water
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons mild-flavoured lager
1 tablespoon white vinegar
Whisk flour, yeast, and salt in large bowl and then add the water, beer and vinegar
Fold the mixture together into a shaggy ball then cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let it sit at room temperature for 8 to 18 hours
Transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface and knead the dough 10 to 15 times – I then get a long piece of baking paper and place it in the bowl
Shape the dough into ball by pulling edges into middle and then transfer it, seam-side down, to the baking-paper lined bowl. (see below – that glorious round of dough? Just 15 turns and it is that glorious)
Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise at room temperature until dough has doubled in size and does not readily spring back when poked with finger, about 2 hours
About 30 minutes before baking, adjust oven rack to lowest position, place your Dutch oven (with lid) on the rack, and heat oven to 250 degrees
Lightly flour top of dough and, using a sharp knife, make a long 1cm deep slit along the top of the dough
Then, taking care not to burn the crap out of your hands, wrists, arms, carefully lift the lid off the pot, transfer the dough and baking paper (hence a long piece of paper, so you can lift it and lower it) into the pot
Put the lid back on and place in the oven. Reduce the oven temperature to 200C and bake covered for 30 minutes. Remove lid and continue to bake until loaf is deep brown – about 20 to 30 minutes longer
Carefully remove bread from pot, transfer to a wire rack and cool to room temperature, about 2 hours*.
So many of you are aware of my recent obsession with making sourdough bread. I am now the proud owner of the Bourke Street Bakery cookbook so expect the obsession to pick up where it last waned.
The initial infatuation fell away when the family just wasn’t getting as into it as I was and there were issues with the level of rise I was getting from my doughs. A few years back some dear friends had given me Jeffrey Hamelman’s book Bread: A Baker’s Book of Techniques and Recipes and I decided to try some of his recipes which call for a poolish, or a starter that only requires 12-16 hours rather than weeks.
Enter centre stage the Pain Rustique. The loaf I now make for everything – loaves, free-form loaves, roasted garlic loaves, olive and rosemary loaves… endless. It is easy to make and divine to eat. DIVINE.
Oh, a tip from all the bread making aficionados – always use spring water not tap water.
Pain Rustique From Jeffrey Hamelman, Bread: A Baker’s Book of Techniques and Recipes
1 lb bread flour (3 5/8 cups)
1 lb water (2 cups)
1/8 tsp instant dry yeast
1 lb bread flour (3 5/8 cups)
6.1oz water (3/4 cup)
Poolish (2lb total)
1 tbsp salt
1 1/2 tsp instant dry yeast
To make the poolish
Disperse the yeast in the water, add the flour and mix (by hand) until smooth. Cover with plastic and let stand for 12 to 16 hours at 70F. (I never really adhere to the room temperature guidelines, I mean, what are you going to do?? We don’t live in a humidor.)
To make the bread
Combine the bread flour and water with the poolish in a mixing bowl and mix with a dough hook on the lowest speed until it comes together as a shaggy mess. Cover and let rest for 20-30 minutes.
Add the yeast and salt and on the second speed mix together until the dough is fairly well developed (about 1.5-2 mins) – it should be supple and moderately loose (I take this term to mean quite wet)
Bulk fermentation is 70 minutes
25 minutes into the bulk fermentation give a quick fold to the dough. This means put the dough on a very liberally floured bench. Pull a third of the dough from the left hand side into the middle and press down gently to expel some of the air. Do the same again from the right, then the top and the bottom, then return to the bowl.
25 minutes after the first fold do another one and return to the bowl.
20 minutes after the second fold turn the dough out onto a floured surface and rest for 15 minutes
Gently divide the dough into the sizes you like and shape or place in bread tins
Leave the dough for a final fermentation/proofing for 20 to 25 minutes.
Cook in a 240C oven for about 35 minutes.
The pain rustique with kalamata olives. There’s about 500g of pitted chopped kalamatas in for the recipe given above with a few sprigs of fresh rosemary finely chopped as well.