Spiced Christmas Rice Pudding Recipe

The Swiss Cafe on Grafton Street (Cairns) used to sell small tubs of cold spiced rice pudding - ever so refreshing on a hot Summer's day! At one point I was treating myself daily.  Last week, my neighbours urged me to purchase the Morrison's rice pudding, which was a right steal at just 13p per can (it's no secret that the Yorkshire man hunts bargains as well as game). I hadn't eaten rice pudding in over a year and when I called my mum in a flurry of excitement, she reminded me how much I love the spiced version. Today I tossed a few spices in and the result was nostalgia inducing. I happened to have a bottle of cherry brandy in the homestead, so sloshed in a few cheeky teaspoons BUT, I wouldn't say that this is mandatory for success. The spices are so Christmassy and it is lovely served either straight from the stove, or chilled with a cup of tea. I am supposed to be cleaning the house in anticipation of Kane's arrival home - but couldn't resist sharing my version of Spiced Christmas Rice Pudding. Bon appetit!

Spiced Christmas Rice Pudding

Ingredients:
2 cans of plain rice pudding
Small handful of sultanas
2 cardamon pods
4 shakes ground nutmeg
4 shakes ground ginger
7 shakes ground cinnamon
5 tsp cherry brandy

Method:

Heat the rice pudding and sultanas in a saucepan over low heat for 2 mins. Split open the cardamon pods and add only the small black seeds from within. Add all other spices and the cherry brandy. Turn up ever so slightly, so that the pudding is simmering gently. Stir frequently to avoid sticking. Allow to simmer for a further 5-7 mins until the sultanas are plump and the pudding is exuding a fragrant aroma. Either serve hot as a winter warmer, or chill in the fridge for a few hours and serve as a refreshing after dinner treat. I think it seems more than appropriate to serve this for breakfast also. 

September 2011: Le Grande Maison, Loire Valley

This blogging business is tough going! This morning I found myself reminiscing about an out-of-this-world macha and white choc chip cookie experience at Bob's Kitchen in Paris. This got me thinking - how could I possibly begin writing about our March 2012 visit to France, when I completely failed to recount on an equally memorable Loire Valley experience from our van trip last September? With a freed-up Monday bank holiday on my hands - I best take a crack at it. The last stop of our 2011 European van trip. Here goes:

It's funny isn't it? We are always in need of a holiday. And when we're on holiday? We're planning the next. After accidentally discovering a nudist colony in Port Leucate, choking on a fish bone in Arcachon, losing to a van-intruding spider in Saint-Gilles, bathing outside a toilet block using 2L plastic bottles in a town whose name I couldn't pronounce, and might I mention, sleeping in the back of a van for four weeks, we needed a holiday. Don't get me wrong,  every destination...every experience, was memorable in its own right; I thrive on adventure and the unexpected. Hell - I believe in scheduling time for the unexpected! But the thought of a real bed for two nights at Le Grande Maison in the Loire Valley, inclusive of a five course wine tasting supper, sounded too good to be true.

On arrival, our English hosts, Sue and Mikaela, showed us to our room; a 17th century stone bakehouse still featuring its original oven. Kane and I spent the afternoon winding down in the estate gardens, with tea, biscuits and a light read; he  researching the geography of the Loire Valley as a wine region and me, with Elizabeth David in hand. French Country Cooking - how fitting! Soon, we were ready to explore. We set off for a stroll through the vinyards. When immersed in such tranquil surrounds, it's difficult not to forget about everything. This is exactly what the doctor had ordered. Our reason for stumbling across Le Grande Maison became even more clear when we discovered a tree laden with plump, ripe figs. WIN!

That evening, we met with our fellow guests to admire the sun setting over the vinyards. The five of us stood in awe, sipping our aperitif and enjoying Sue's bite-sized cheese puff pastries. The supper to follow was perhaps just as impressive as the view - five courses, five impecably chosen wines, a triple-sec shooter and a coffee to finish. With personalised menus to welcome each party, we couldn't praise Sue and Mikaela more highly for their attention to detail and willingness to share information about the wine and growers (all local to the area). Infact, all five of us enjoyed the evening so much that we booked supper for the following evening, requesting that this time, our tables be pulled together. It was one of those perfect evenings - great food, great wine, great conversation. There we sat in the 17th century Maison dining room, sharing the day's wine-tasting highlights and ooh-ing and ah-ing over Sue and Mikaela's gorgous selection of local cheeses. Our Texan fellow-diners also shared a hot tip - Chevre topped with a drizzle of honey and a sprinkle of white pepper. OMG. Do it! This is a no-regret situation that you should indulge in immediately - if not sooner.

I couldn't recommend Le Grande Maison more highly. If headed toward Saumur in the Loire, you simply must book a room ( http://www.lagrandemaison.net/ ). Be sure to ask Sue and Mikaela about the history of the pigeon tower, as it is absolutely fascinating. More importantly, pick their brains about the region's wine-tasting hot spots. Saumur is known for it's unique sparkling red - and partnered with a generous slice of chocolate cake, you won't be disappointed. I promise.

Donostia, Basque Country

Donostia-San Sebastian is Basque Country. A coastal city in the North of Spain, just a hop, skip and jump away from the South-West border of France. During our six days camped in the eastern beach car park, I saw a very cool seaside town mastering the balancing act between old world and new. Think: bustling street markets and Balenciaga, cobblestone alleyways and opulent architecture. We thought it was fantastic...and apparently, we're not the only ones. San Sebasian has been dubbed the European Capital of Culture for 2016. During this time, the city will host a multitude of events celebrating the similarities and diversities across European culture. 

Kane and I were lucky enough to roll into town on the fifth day of the International Film Festival. I've always wanted to attend Cannes, so saw this as a 'warm-up', so to speak. We managed to snag tickets to a midnight screening of Steve McQueen's 'Shame' - a very raw drama about the life-shattering emotional struggles faced by a man with uncontrollable sexual urges and an addiction to pornography. Although the cinematography is very clever and the film received rave reviews, I have to be honest, in that I found it far too confronting. On day 2, I bought a pair of Tom Fords to replace my six-year-old sunglasses, which for the past year, had served the sole purpose of keeping hair of my face. In amongst the red carpets, blinding flashes, all-important festival ticket holders wearing lanyards, and cityscape swarming with paparazzi, I couldn't help feel just a little bit famous. Well - why not?

Our camp in the Eastern beach car park

But it wasn't all glitz and glamour. I mean, we were in San Sebastian. The major attraction?  Surf, sun and sand.  Having set up camp in the eastern beach car park meant that every day, we could wake up, whack on some togs and trot down to the beach (yes, with me, its all about the 'trot'). Once one became accustomed to dodging the White Pointers, it was easy to meld in with the crowds of people going about their way...sunbaking, picnicking, building sand castles and hitting the surf. It is during times like this that I wish I'd jumped aboard the 2002 Blue Crush phenomenon and been one of the those girls who learnt how to surf, just so that they could feel  a little like Kate Bosworth riding her first wave. 

For the lover of baked goods, San Sebastian is home to hundreds of gorgeous pit-stops overflowing with sweet treats. Everybody develops a favourite. For us, it was Barrenetxe. The family's link to confectionery and baking can be traced all the way back to the late 1600's  - and the hard work has paid off. Their San Sebastian establishment is an absolute temple of confectionery - with macaroons, croissants, truffles and miniature cakes piled high on the counter-top, in constant view (and easy reach) of the coffee bar dwellers. We visited every day. Possibly excessive - but that's the way I roll. My absolute favourite was Txintxorros, almond and candied orange peel cake miniatures, topped with a thin layer of crushed almonds - made with eggs, sugar, flour butter, almonds, candied orange and water...ONLY to be found in Barrenexte. As a friend recently pointed out to me, cake for breakfast, is so underrated. To top off the entire experience, the manager (and barista) made a killer coffee. He had mastered the knack of steaming milk. How could I tell? Not only through the creamy, perfectly aerated result, but through the staccato bursts of air - a rhythmic, tightly-pursed-lips kissing sound, which occurs every second or two, when the jug is tilted ever so slightly. He always delivered a deep golden crema and, each shot was timed down to the second, resulting in nothing less than a perfect start to the morning. It wasn't all roses though. I should mention that on the occasion that his employee made our coffee, it was nothing to write home about.

Barrenetxe cabinet selection

Txintxorros @ Barrenetxe

As this is a blog about Basque country, I suppose that I should follow suite and mention the traditional Pintxo (pronounced 'pincho'). At home, this is what we would refer to as 'tapas', except, Pinxto are served in line with the Spanish translation of their name - 'Pincho', meaning 'spike'. That is, skewers are used to fasten typical Basque favourites such as croquette or stuffed peppers, to small pieces of bread. Pintxo are served from the bar. I love the idea of this style of dining, however, from our experience, pricing is not for the faint hearted. At around two euro a pop, it's easy to rack up an enourmous bill without noticing. For much better value, we dined at Restaurant Urbano, where I ate pan fried foie on green beans and a bed of mashed potato with truffle oil, followed by the most incredible squid done three ways (ink, with onions and grilled). Kane had an egg cooked at thirty degrees, served on a bed of fried peppers with sea salt. Sadly, I can't recall his main! This particular find has a few bad reviews on TripAdvisor but honestly, other than my pineapple and rum soufflé which was not a soufflé in any way shape or form, the service and quality were fantastic. If you want to escape the bars and get out for a nice dinner in San Seb., I would definitely pay Restaurante Urbano a visit. 

View from our camp site and the picnic wall

When not dining out, we enjoyed simple picnics by the sea. One evening we  picnicked on the rock wall overlooking the eastern aspect of the beach. Nothing compares to taking in the ambience with a bottle of red, locally marinated artichocke hearts, fresh bread, olive oil and balsamic. It was actually a very bizarre experience. Within five minutes of us settling on the wall, about twelve wild cats emerged from the shelter of the rocks. They sat just meters from us, watchful, proud and ... judgemental? I felt as though I had been teleported to a fairytale hearing and my case was being presented to a jury of cats. I wondered if their shiny coats were a result of  a diet rich in omega-3. You know, from swiping sardines living solitary existences in rock pools. BAM. Mraauuuw!! Just like that. 

On our final evening, we utilised our wheels to explore the rugged coast line. After taking a few turns too many, we ended up off the beaten track, on a road set into the cliff face. We managed to find a spot to pull off the road and set up our dining room (a tiny fold out table, 2 tripod camper chairs and a double hob gas burner). Overlooking the ocean, with what looked like Christopher Robin's Hundred-Acre-Wood behind us, the location couldn't have been more perfect. It was here that we cooked salted pan fried green peppers and a first attempt at paella. I am ashamed to say that we used frozen, pre-packed seafood, because we had been too late for the fishmonger! Despite the fact that I felt at risk of chipping my dentition on sand excreted from the cockles, it was an experience in itself - homemade paella, overlooking the San Sebastian coastline  - complete with crashing waves, a beautiful sunset and the silhouettes of parachuters, making their way back to land. It was  a surreal evening and the perfect end to our San Sebastian experience.

Preparing and snacking on salted green peppers. Note the incredible backdrop!

San Sebastian sunset on the final evening of our stay

The following morning, we were sad to say goodbye but make no mistake - next Summer, we are SO there!

Hasta pronto amigos!

When in Aix

Situated in the south of France and once home to the post-impressionist revolutionary, Paul Cezanne, Aix en Provence may well have been my favourite van trip destination. If not for the endless supply of farm fresh chevre, for the patisserie windows filled with perfectly iced calisson, unmistakable aroma of Herbes de Provence, and boutique-lined cobblestone passageways. The city breathed a welcoming, South-of-Paris hospitality -  from the owners of Arc-en-Ciel camping ground, to the retail assistant who made phone enquiries regarding a fine we had received on the toll road. Our visit also marked the occasion of a baker insisting that I have an oven-fresh baguette, instead of her day-old display stock. As though it happened yesterday, I can still see her wiping a few strands of greying hair from her sweating brow, giving me a cheeky smile and cocking her head toward the oven. Although we didnt speak the same language, words weren't required to highlight the importance of a fresh baguette. Yes, in Aix, generosity is everywhere. But perhaps the most notable act, was that of Anna, a road-side greengrocer assistant.

Kane and I met Anna on our first evening in Aix. I had wanted to try out a couple of dishes inspired by Elizabeth David's French Country Cooking. After collecting a few bits and bobs, we paid. Anna was astounded. For some reason, she was under the impression that the few items we had bought, would be the only and entire contents of our evening meal. We tried to convince her otherwise but she seemed dubious. After a lengthy discussion about where we had travelled from, she asked, "Do you like chevre? It comes fresh from a farmer four kilometres away, every single day".  We both responded that we liked chevre very much. Without further ado, she wrapped two rounds (one natural and one coated in ground black pepper), in waxed paper. The cheese was unpriced. When we asked how much, she insisted that we take it as a 'gift'. I couldn't have been more delighted! How kind of her!

That night we enjoyed a camping feast fit for kings! We started with the chevre and fresh baguette. The goats cheese was gorgeous and creamy. Being in a whole league of its own, it would be rude to compare it to any that I have eaten before. We then went on to enjoy whole baby endives, stripped of their outer leaves to avoid bitterness and sautéed in salted butter. This was followed by a simple dish of poached button mushrooms in fresh, thickened cream. Whilst preparing the dish, I could hear Elizabeth David's voice in my head - "To have anything else with them, would be absurd!" As a main course, we prepared a soul-warming tomato soup enhanced with a vegetable and chicken stock, seasoned with fennel, thyme and bay, and heartied-up with half a cup of rice (added 15 mins prior to the intended serving time). It is the perfect dish for a couple of campers working from a teeny-tiny camping stove, with only one pot! What a memorable Autumn evening. There we sat, cupping our bowls of soup in both hands, to generate extra warmth, occasionally moving one hand to pick up our glass of local red. When we had finished our soup, we used up the last of the baguette to mop up the juices.

The following evening, we returned to buy some more fresh fruit and veg. We told Anna how much we enjoyed the chevre and that this time, we would actually buy a round! Again, she refused - this time, wrapping three rounds of goats cheese in waxed paper, insisting that we needed one of each variety! That evening, we were spoilt for choice, with the addition of chevre heavily coated in dried Provencal herbs (Anna's favourite).  The following morning, we  left Aix. To thank Anna her for her kindness, we stopped by the greengrocer, with a bottle of wine in hand. Our new friend wasn't in, so we left it with her boss. Without stipulating who we were, or what we were grateful for, we asked him to pass on a 'thank you'. I'm sure that Anna would have known.

Since our time in Aix, we have been eating young chevre as if  it's going out of fashion (sadly, nothing compares!) About two-three weeks ago, Kane and I went out for dinner and although I'm unable to recall the restaurant's name, I am able to recall what was an ingenious entrée! Pan fried soft goats cheese, served on brioche, with caramelised onion and a side of tomato and ginger relish. It was nothing less than ridiculously incredibe. The following day I couldn't stop thinking about it, so decided to use up the tomatoes in my fridge and embark on an experiment of re-creation. Here is what I came up with:

Tomato & Ginger Relish


Ingredients:
Small dash of extra virgin olive oil for cooking
4 medium-sized ripe tomatoes chopped into quarters (the riper the better)
1 tbs sugar
1/4 large onion finely diced
1.5-2cm of a ginger knob (finely grated)
Pinch of nutmeg
Pinch of salt
2 cloves
Splash of port (be generous, if you must!)
1 tsp sweet balsamic glaze (I used an aged fig variety)

Method

In a small saucepan, cook onion and ginger over a low-medium heat in olive oil until fragrant and onion is soft with transparent quality.  Add tomato and sugar and stir frequently until sugar has dissolved. Turn up heat slightly and add generous splash of port - let it bubble away so that the alcohol can sizzle off. Add all remaining ingredients and turn down to low. Allow to simmer gently, stirring every now-and-again to break up the tomatoes, until your relish has reduced to a lovely jam consistency. At this point, you must fish around for those cloves and whip them right out! (An appetizer quickly becomes UN-appetizing when one of your guests crunches on a clove!)

Refrigerate before serving as a side to a whole round of fried goats cheese on thick slice of fresh crusty bread, or even better, brioche. NB: Prepare your goats cheese by quickly pan frying over high heat in a  non-stick pan on both sides until golden.

Keep any left over relish sealed in the fridge... no doubt you will be craving it the following evening and will be thankful that you didn't wash it down the sink!!