How to Never Celebrate Valentine's Day Ever Again OR How to Semi-cater Your Wedding

Valentine’s Day, that most innocuous of holidays, is loathed about as much as it is celebrated.  And to stop the bane of having to celebrate it ever again, I did something rather novel (albeit clichéd):  I got married on February 14.

That was a year ago.  A wondrous, terrifyingly happy and singularly tough year doing what I said I’d never do again, except that what makes it all the aforementioned things is that I actually haven’t done this before.  Despite previous marriages, it is, in a very real way, the first time for both of us.

My Baby proposed in November, and we were married the next February: a shotgun wedding without the baby.  There was, at this point in our lives, no point in either waiting or spending a fortune on a “fairy tale wedding” because, let’s face it, we’ve both been around the traps and know better than to believe in fairy tales or try to re-enact them (unless it’s Goldilocks because I will always insist on swiping some of whatever My Baby is eating).  So we decided on a very small, intimate wedding in the backyard, and because I am a hard case, I decided that a portion of it was to be home-made.

My sister and I always laugh at wedding articles that say stuff like, “Begin your wedding day with a relaxing massage…”  With our ma in charge, our weddings were total nervefests, completely self-catered with 12 courses, and her sewing up the last of the wedding dress hem an hour before we were supposed to be walking down the aisle.  Relaxation and weddings were not things we had hitherto believed go hand-in-hand.  Ma is still with me in spirit these days, but I didn’t want to do that again.  On the other hand, we had only had a few months to save up, and Shane and I wanted a fantastic honeymoon.  So budget we did.  Budget or no budget, however, Shane and I wanted to make our guests feel welcome, and we wanted them well-fed, relaxed, and happy.  The solution was to let the caterer cater some, and let Vibey cater some.  Which I did, to the cries of one friend who exclaimed, “Are you insane?  On your wedding day you’re supposed to relax!  Have a massage!...”

OK so I didn’t have a massage on my wedding day.  But I didn’t cook, either.  I made some things the day before, bought the rest, and on the day, entrusted a fantastic caterer to provide a colourful and dramatic main course.  Once my dress was on, and my oldest friend had said, “Right?  You sure you want to go through with this?  The car’s running if you want to run away!” I did relax.  We had a beautiful day.  Who knew you could have a good time at your own wedding?  Not me.  Our guests were also relaxed and had a lovely time, and some of them said it was the loveliest wedding they ever went to;  and all of them, a year later, still rave about the food.

So here is how to cater and not cater your non-Valentine’s celebration, at the same time.

All photos except gazpacho © Dee Sutton Photography 

First on the table was a couple of picada, or antipasto, platters.  It included honey and balsamic roasted pearl onions, marinated olives, marinated roasted peppers, caperberries, marinated mushrooms, cheeses, spicy salami, lots of crusty bread, and what is the world’s one perfect appetiser:  prosciutto and melon.  The night before, my daughter assembled bamboo skewers of cantaloupe cubes and folds of prosciutto.  If you do this ahead, you have to do what we did and make sure the prosciutto and melon don’t touch, otherwise the melon juices will make the ham soggy.

There are no pictures of the first course – this is a swiped one - and I don’t know why, but I suspect it’s because it was just devoured.  To keep with the theme of the main course, I bought 200 shot glasses (a bargain – thank you eBay), and filled half of them with gazpacho, and the other half with white gazpacho or ajo blanco (“white garlic”).  I have made a killer gazpacho for decades now, but was unprepared how my guests would receive the white gazpacho, which on ingredients alone – lots of garlic, almonds, bread, and a garnish of green grapes – may sound weird to some, but there were enraptured exclamations, and sighs, and grown women licking out the insides of the shot glasses.  This behaviour was probably encouraged by the jugs of sangria that were on offer.  It is a colleague’s recipe and a killer, and because it was a warm day guests were quaffing down great glasses of it and saying, “There isn’t much alcohol in this, is there?”

My piece de résistance was the caterer, Wadey, from The Paella Pan catering. 

Everyone loves paella (not to mention risotto, which he also cooked), but the genius of it was the anticipation.  Wadey has these massive gas-fired pans that he uses to cook in front of assembled guests, and he doesn’t need to be showy.  The increasing suspense of the ingredients as he added them one by one, and the accompanying aromas, were drama enough.

Wadey made a classic “paella extreme”…

… and a wild mushroom and wild rice risotto.  There was a gorgeous salad with spanking fresh leaves and feta.  Wadey provides disposable plates.  Did we care about the lack of china?  Heck, no.  Everyone was rhapsodising about the deliciousness of it all, and there was less cleanup.

Dessert was delightful, and fine enough that everyone was asking me if I’d made these myself.  No, they were Bellantis, purchased from Aldi:  miniature ice-cream cones filled with good-quality ice cream and covered in dark Belgian chocolate.  I put these in a stunning ice bowl that I had made the week before.  Making your own ice bowl is the easiest thing in the world to do, and instructions on how to do it abound on the Internet, but funnily enough, it’s not something you much see these days.  Despite my fears that the artificial flowers I’d trapped in the ice would make the bowl look tacky, it didn’t, and it kept the Bellantis from melting. 

And so on to the cake.  I admire cake decorators beyond words, but I really wasn’t interested in a lookin’ cake, I wanted an eatin’ cake, and I wanted something that My Baby would love.  Marciano's Cakes, a Chilean pâtissier, makes a cake called La Rica, which has the tastes of my childhood.  Lighter-than-light vanilla sponge filled with dulce de leche (or as the Chileans call it, manjar), peaches and strawberries, and iced with the one icing I will go on bended knee for:  Italian meringue.  I asked for the decoration to be as simple as possible, and just as well, because there was a minor mishap and a portion of the icing got kinda… destroyed, but at that point I was past caring.  We were all so happy, so relaxed, and I knew the cake would taste divine, so I just shrugged.  My sister went into the garden, picked an overblown rose, sat it on the cake where icing should be, and that was that.

My Baby loved it.  And as I watched him enjoy our wedding cake, it occurred to me that I get to look into these amazing eyes for the rest of my life.  And no Valentine’s Day sentiment can compare with that.

MY GAZPACHO

(Serves 6, or fills 50 shot glasses)

I have tasted many gazpachos in my life, but none can compare to this one.  It is the best.  This isn’t a boast (particularly since it isn’t my original recipe, just a hand-down), it’s just fact.  It is flavourful and zingy, with lots of chewy interest.

Ingredients:

2 slices white bread

3 tbsp. red wine vinegar

2 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

3 cloves garlic

1 red or salad onion, roughly chopped

1 litre (4 cups) tomato juice

4 tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and finely chopped

3 Lebanese cucumbers, finely chopped

1 green pepper (capsicum), cored, seeded, and finely chopped

1 red pepper (capsicum), cored, seeded, and finely chopped

4 spring onions (scallions), finely sliced

1/2 bunch parsley, finely chopped

Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

Red wine vinegar and extra-virgin olive oil, extra, to serve

What you do:

1.  Tear bread into rough pieces and put into food processor with vinegar, oil, garlic, and onion.  Whizz until smooth.  You may need to add a little of the tomato juice to allow it to process well.  Put mixture into a large clean bowl.

2.  Stir in all remaining ingredients, cover, and refrigerate until very well chilled.  Taste, and correct seasoning:  chilled savoury foods sometimes need to be seasoned a little more highly.  Ladle into glass cups or glasses, floating a little extra vinegar and oil on top to serve.  Serve immediately.

WHITEY'S SANGRIA

Here's the recipe for the sangría we had at the wedding for the non-teetotalers.  It's from my ex-colleague and friend Andrew White, who is not only a gun but can cook like a demon. It's a far cry from my ma's, which used to just have wine, sugar, and orange and lemon juices, and packs a serious punch. I added orange juice, but Andrew doesn't; it doesn't matter, it's a flexible recipe. You can even remove the liquor and make it with non-alcoholic wine, which would be good for me because I’m one of the teetotalers, alas.

Ingredients:

1 bottle red wine

1/2 cup sugar

1/3 cup triple sec

1/3 cup rum

1/4 cup brandy

A few glugs of vodka (opt.)

Juice of 1 orange

Fruit (we had peaches, grapes - both of which are essential to me - strawberries, and sliced lemon)

Lemonade or soda water

Ice

Lime or lemon wedges

What you do:

Combine the wine, sugar, triple sec, rum, brandy, vodka if using, orange juice, and fruit in a massive jug or bowl. Chill overnight. Next day, dilute with lemonade or soda (a ratio of 2/3 wine base to 1/3 lemonade or soda is about right), and add ice and lime or lemon wedges. Serve immediately.

Don't be mean with the beans, mum

It’s not heartening when you tell your husband that you’re having baked beans on toast for dinner and he counters by offering to make dinner reservations.

But OK, let’s give the man a break.  As a husband, he’s pretty new, without benefit of the common-law marriage prior to moving in, so he wasn’t to know that I wasn’t going to open up a can of Heinz’s best to dump on top of some poor unsuspecting piece of toast.

Heinz’s best, by the way, are something I despise, despite their iconic status.  No icon can take my attention away from the fact that what I’m eating is slimy, slippery, and much too sweet in altogether the wrong way.  (There is a right way for something to be too sweet – baklava, for example.  But more on this another time.)  Plus the “tomato” flavour is nothing like what a real tomato – even a tinned real tomato – tastes like.  That’s why I put together this recipe many years ago.  They’re not Boston baked beans, largely because I’m not a huge fan of the predominant molasses flavour, but they were my answer to Heinz for a daughter who really, really loved her beans on toast for breakfast and afternoon meal (she stopped eating lunch in high school and would be ravenous when she got home).  I added some brown sugar for a hint of molasses and sweetness, and went to town on the seasoning.  Who Heinz?

Back when I had a houseful of children, I would make twice the amount below and freeze leftovers in single portions in paper cups.  One of these takes about two minutes to thaw and warm through in the mikey; convenience food at its best.  Last night, we had them on beautiful sourdough rye toast and smoked cheddar, and they were still convenient.  Despite the long cooking time, during which the house was the best-smelling house on the street, dinner was on the table in a couple of minutes.

My husband wolfed down his plateful and apologised for ever doubting me.  And then I had him apologise a couple more times, just because he’s such a new husband that I can get away with this kind of thing for now.  

STICKY BAKED BEANS

These baked beans don’t need the pork, and will still be delicious and sticky without it.  And by the way, if you haven’t made my beautiful sweet chilli sauce yet and are looking for a way to use the bottle of commercial stuff you still have, this is the perfect recipe for it. (Serves 6)

Ingredients: 

1 tbsp. oil

2 onions, finely chopped

2 stalks celery, or green peppers (capsicum), finely diced

2 cups water or stock

3 tbsp. prepared mustard (I like these tablespoons to be heaped)

1 1/2 tsp. salt or to taste

1 cup tomato passata

2 tbsp. tomato paste

1/4 cup sweet chili sauce

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 tbsp. Worcestershire sauce

4 cups cooked, but al dente, beans – I used a mixture of black turtle beans and four-bean mix (tinned are ok if you must, but rinse before using, and understand that there is a risk they will go mushy)

1 ham hock OR several bacon bones OR 250g. bacon in the piece(opt.)

What you do: 

1. Preheat oven to 160oC.  Heat oil in a frying pan. Add onions and celery or peppers, and cook for about 10 min., stirring occasionally, until onions are lightly browned

2.  While the veggies are cooking, whisk together the water or stock, mustard, salt, tomato passata and paste, sweet chili sauce, brown sugar, and Worcestershire sauce.

3.  Combine beans and veggies in casserole with a tight-fitting lid, and stir in sauce mixture.  Bury the ham hock, bacon bones or bacon in the middle. Cover casserole, and bake 3-4 hours, removing the lid for the last hour of cooking.  Beans should be tender, thick, and slightly sticky. You can remove bacon or ham hock and set aside for another use, or chop and add to beans.

Here are the soaked and pre-cooked beans.  They are still quite al dente.  This will prevent mushiness in the finished dish.

Yes, the sauce mixture looks Heinzey when you put it together, but it comes good in the end.

Add the sautéed veggies to the beans.  I like to let my veg catch and scorch just a bit.  It adds depth and flavour to the sauce.

Add the sauce mixture to the beans and veg.  

If using the ham hock or bone, bury it in the middle.  By the way, you're not imagining it:  this is a huge casserole.  I doubled the recipe on purpose to have leftovers to freeze in individual portions in ziploc baggies.  

By the end of the cooking time, the mixture should be thick but the beans still plenty moist, with lots of sticky, but not runny, sauce.  Remove the meat from the ham, dice finely, and mix into the beans if you like (I do, and did).

Here they are on hausbrot with smoked cheddar and spinach that will eventually wilt from the heat of the beans.
Yumbo McGillicutty!

Recycling Fridays: Chiffonade

It’s probably the most guilt-inducing vegetable to find at the bottom of the crisper:  wangy lettuce.

Why guilt-inducing?  Because it’s wangy, and can’t be used for salad, that’s why, and if you believe that salad and other raw treatments is all lettuce is good for, you’ll feel guilt.  You’ll throw it away, its limp, lifeless form an accusation, because in your heart you know it should be good for something, dammit.  It was not its time to go.

No, it wasn’t.  Because yes, you can add it to just about any recipe that asks for a cooked leafy green, and you can still turn it into a dish you’ll be happy to eat, such as petits pois à la Française, or lettuce blanched in chicken stock and sesame oil and drizzled with oyster sauce.  Or chiffonade.

Chiffonade is a French soup, which probably means it hasn’t made an appearance in a cookbook for the last ten years, which is a pity.  It is delicious, and the perfect way to use up your wangy lettuce.  It also has a pretty, poetic name that describes how your lettuce looks after cutting.  Can you see the whirls, frills, and ribbons of chiffon?

I make chiffonade not just out of wangy lettuce, but the outer leaves of lettuce that some people find too robust for a salad, such as cos [romaine], and I’ve found that the darker the leaves, the better the soup.   And because we always have lettuce in the house, I can make it when the cupboard is otherwise bare, in under 30 minutes, to everyone's delight.  Other greens, such as silverbeet [chard] are also delicious in chiffonade, but if you use cabbage you won’t have chiffonade.  You’ll just have cabbage soup.

CHIFFONADE

Ingredients:

2 tbsp. butter

1 onion, finely chopped

lettuce

chicken stock

rice

salt and pepper to taste

What you do:

1.  Melt butter over medium-low heat and add onion.  Sweat, stirring often, until translucent.

2.  While onion is sweating, cut the lettuce into chiffonade.  To cut into chiffonade, stack a few lettuce leaves together and roll tightly.  Cut into very fine shreds.  Don’t hurry.  The onion is sweating and you have heaps of time.  (If you have a tight-headed lettuce, such as iceberg, there’s no need to roll leaves.  Just halve or quarter lettuce, place cut side down on board, and shred finely.)

3.  Add lettuce to onion, and stir until it wilts.  Add enough chicken stock to cover lettuce twice, and bring to the boil.  Boil as long as you like, but 10-15 min is enough.  Add a couple of handfuls of rice, and boil for another 15 minutes.  Taste for salt and pepper, and serve.

I dropped a few cubes of muzza - mozzarella - into the bowl because it was my lunch, and after I took the picture I dropped a few more in.

C’est bon!