Your Cheatin' Hummus

I have a confession to make. Something I need to admit if I am to continue unfettered in a forum such as this. In order to be able to look myself in the eye and say, ‘yes, you have been honest; go ahead, blog your food fetish all over the electric interweb with gay abandon. Spread your message of the joy of feasting far and wide with a clean conscience and an awesome palate.’

This is not easy for me to admit and I ask, in advance of telling you, for your understanding and forgiveness.

Sometimes, when I cook, I cheat.

It’s not you, it’s me.

Do you hate me?

It means nothing to me at the time. A Kewpie doll blob of mayo added to salad dressings here, a sheet of store bought puff pastry there. No harm done, right?  I can’t help it if cling wrapped jacket potatoes in the microwave taste damned good. They take forever in the oven and come out nowhere near as velvety smooth and super creamy.

But now for the worst part. I know that I identify myself as the latest generation from the lineage of superbly resourceful women known as my ancestors. These women could make a make a loaf of bread from scratch; out of the wheat they’d ripped from their field and ground into white powder with their bare hands. What’s more, this loaf of bread would feed a family of 12 and last for 3 months.

If they wanted olive oil, they’d pulverize fresh fruit they’d harvest off carefully tended trees, thwacking them loose with big sticks and rescuing each green luscious orb before ravenous goats got to them first.

Lord… don’t get me started on the goats….

(Insert moving music here)

I’ve let my people down. I’ve let you down. But most of all … I’ve let myself down. 

Ok, here it goes.

When I make hummus, I use chickpeas from a can.

I have tried, honestly, I have tried to do the whole soak them overnight, change the water, add a pinch of bi-carb and simmer them for 6 hours with a bay leaf thing, but it just takes too damn long! In the time it takes me to do step one of this process, I can make a mellifluous plate of the yummiest tasting hummus you’ve ever had.

Go on, try it. Cheating feels good every now and then.

Easy, cheatin’ Hummus

1 x 400 g can of chickpeas, liquid reserved

1 clove garlic

1 ½ tablespoons Tahini

Juice of one lemon (or to taste)

¼ teaspoon ground cumin

1 pinch of cayenne pepper

Salt and pepper to taste

Olive oil

Sweet paprika

1 teaspoon chopped parsley for garnish

Put the drained chickpeas in a food processor and blitz until smooth and creamy. Add some of the chickpea juice if it’s chunky and thick.

Add the tahini and garlic, puree a little and then season with a bit of salt. Add cumin and cayenne and puree some more.

Drizzle in the lemon juice and blend til smooth.

Check the flavour and add more salt, lemon juice and pepper unitl the flavour is to your liking.

If it is too thick, add some more chickpea juice.

Spoon out onto a flat plate and create a well in the middle of the hummus.

Drizzle the surface with olive oil, sprinkle with paprika and sprinkle a pinch of parsley in the middle to make it look pretty.

Tess of the Galaktoboureko

It’s funny to have a cookbook in your heart, in that special place tucked way down in the subconscious deep; alongside pop songs from your youth that make you ache a little and next to the scents that wham you right back to that place in your history. To have such a cookbook destines one to have it work a profound and lasting effect on the trajectory of one’s lifelong love-affair with food.

For me, this cookbook was by Tess Mallos and upon being introduced to me she became the part-scary Aunt, part high priestess, of cooking.

It was simply titled “The Greek Cookbook”.

Yes, I know. It’s a no-brainer right? You’re probably thinking, ‘Wow, she’s a Greek chick and her first connection with a cookbook was with a Greek one. Wow… how unusual… NOT!’

But bear with me for a second. Tess was one of the first people of Greek origin I had ever seen on Australian television. Lex Marinos was there too, being called a ‘wog’ and being told to ‘leave the money on the fridge’, but the uproarious canned laughter never quite made sense to my young witnessing of nationally transmitted racism against one of my own.

Tess was a Greek woman on television. And not an actress like the beautiful, talented and glamorous Chantal Contouri (who also has a passion for food). She was a woman who was on television to teach people how to cook Greek food. It was amazing.

In this time there was Bernard King, Peter Russell Clarke, Margaret Fulton of course, and a few more. Nothing like the plethora of Celebrity Chefs we have rammed down our gullets like foie gras geese today.

And then suddenly, out of this “meat and three veg” cultural culinary landscape, there emerged, in the distance, festooned with oregano, lemons and a hint of garlic, Her Majesty Tess Mallos.  And long may she reign!

Mum and I would sit in front of our HMV TV set and watch The Greek Variety Show with Harry Michaels. There’d be singers doing traditional Greek songs and Greek language versions of current hits. The Bee Gees tune ‘Staying Alive’ was translated into “Pio thinata”, which means “More Hard”…..

Anyhoooo….

And then Tess would come on and show us how to make Yemista, Pastitsio and Baklava. She was poised and capable. It was like having her in our own home. It was an occasion. But mostly, it was comforting to see ourselves reflected back at us in a context that was simple, honest and practical all at once.

Mum has the first edition of her cookbook (1976) and I have the 1992 edition. It has been reprinted and republished – once in a ‘limp edition’ – around 20 times. I know that my copy is just one of the countless copies that have tomato stains and syrup spills through the pages all across Australia.

Tess has published other excellent cookbooks as well, and my other favourite Greek cookbook is by another Tess – Kiros. Her book ‘Falling Cloudberries’ contains gorgeous photography and good recipes.

The worst cookbook title ever ,  would have to be “Easy Greek-Style.” I mean really…. What were they thinking?

The following Tess Mallos recipe has allowed me to secure my place amongst my friends as ‘Maker of Many Excellent Greek Things Woman’.  It's called Galaktoboureko, a dessert I describe to my Aussie mates, somewhat condescendingly… sorry… I gotta watch that… as, ‘a sort of Greek vanilla slice’. It’s nothing like vanilla slice. It is creamy sweet and golden and sublime. Vanilla slice is like sweet snot with biscuity bits.

Thank you Tess Mallos. You are my Julia Childs and the scary aunty I had but really wanted more of.  xxxx

Custard Pie – from The Greek Cookbook

Galatoboureko

Serves 12

Cooking Time 1 hour

Oven temperature 180 degrees

4 cups millk

¾ cups sugar

¾ cups fine semolina

60g butter

grated ring of ½ lemon

8cm cinnamon stick

Pinch of salt

5 eggs lightly beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla essence

12 sheets fillo pastry

185g unsalted butter, melted

½ quantity sugar syrup – to follow

• Mix the milk, sugar, semolina, butter, lemon rind, cinnamon stick and salt in a heavy based saucepan and heat until thickened, stirring constantly. Let custard bubble gently over heat for 5 minutes.
• Take from heat and remove cinnamon stick. Cover with a piece of buttered paper to prevent skin forming. When cool, mix in eggs and vanilla.

• Butter a 33x25x5cm metal baking dish. Place half the filo pastry sheets in the dish, brushing each side with the melted butter. Pour in the custard and top with the remaining sheets, again brushing each with butter as it is placed into position.

• Brush top with remaining butter and score through top three sheets of fillo in 8cm squares or diamonds. Trim edges 1cm above top of pie. Bake in a moderate oven for 45 minutes until golden brown and custard is set when tested with a knife. Remove from oven and cool thoroughly in the dish.

• Make syrup and pour over the pie. Leave until cool before serving.

Electra’s NOTE: Either hot fillo/cold syrup or cold fillo/hot syrup is the golden rule of golden fillo.

Syrup

2cups sugar

2 cups water

3 whole cloves (optional)

5cm cinnamon stick

1tbs lemon juice

thin strip of lemon rind

Place ingredients in a heavy based saucepan and stir over heat until sugar dissolves. Bring to the boil and boil over moderately high heat for 20 minutes.

                                                                                            

Poh Faced and The Soup of Love

So, recently I was on the telly. I’ve been on the telly before. It’s fun being on the telly. People watch you and send text messages and mum and dad get all super-proud and momentarily forget the hell their troublesome daughter has put them through for all of these years.

This time was different. I have never had so many people so excited about me being on the telly. Ever. My Facebook page was busier than my birthday. There were text messages, emails and tweets, people who sorta knew me stopped me in the supermarket and jumped up and down. It all went a bit crazy. And I was only on for two minutes! Other times I’ve been on the telly, people have been well… nice… enthusiastic … complimentary even… but not like this.

No. And why? Because I was on a cooking show. And not just any cooking show. I was on Poh’s Kitchen!

I loved it. Poh was actually in my kitchen. She and the lovely crew hung out, filmed me making Avgolemono Soup and then put the clip on the telly. Which you can find if you click on this link, here:

The clip of me on Poh's Kitchen: A Greek Breakfast

So.... a secret....

What I didn’t say on the show was that this soup is something I make when I seek comfort. When I’m feeling isolated or anxious, making this soup restores me, the action of assembling the flavours within that delicate broth brings me back to my senses. And when my friends are feeling poorly with no mamma or are holding a lingering sadness in their heart, I know the one thing I can do to make them feel better is make them this soup.  It’s a beautiful thing.

I also know there will come a day however, when I will discover someone I love is in the most agonizing state of pain. When I have to face the fact that all the soup in the world is not going to make that person feel better. There will be nothing I can cook or do or say that will make everything alright. This really terrifies me. What will I have left? Just me. With no tricks. No answers and a whole lot of fear that if I can’t channel my energy into doing something practical to help, like making soup, I’ll be reduced to being a reminder of how feeble humans can be.

Or… I’ll just be me. With no bowl of soup in my hand or words of comfort to offer.  Put simply, I will go to this person and be with them. I’ll be me saying silently, I’m here because I love you. I hope that will be enough.

Avgolemono Soupa

To make stock:

Place a whole free range chicken in a pot and cover with cold water. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat. Do not allow the water to bubble furiously or the stock will be cloudy and the flavour will be compromised. Skim any scum that rises to the surface. Season with a good pinch of salt. You can also add a bay leaf and some pepper corns if you like. Simmer gently for an hour or so, or until the chicken is about to fall apart. Remove the chicken, reserving it for later, and strain the stock.

For the soup:

You need:

At least 6 cups of stock

3/4 cup short grain rice, rinsed under cold water

3 eggs

juice of one lemon

Salt and white pepper

More lemon juice to taste

Shredded (reserved) chicken meat

Heat stock til its simmering in a large saucepan and add the rice. Stir until the stock returns to very low boiling point, and then simmer gently for about 15 minutes or until the rice is cooked. You may need to skim the soup during this process as well.

Separate the eggs. In a bowl beat the egg whites until soft peaks form, then fold through the yolks, being careful not to flatten the egg whites too much. Gradually drizzle in the lemon juice.

Then you need to ‘cook’ the egg mixture, by slowly ladling in the hot soup a ladle at a time into the egg mixture, while whisking well. Add the hot soup slowly so that the eggs don’t split.

Add the warm shredded chicken meat (about 2 cups worth) into the stock and rice. Remove the soup from the heat and stir in warm egg mixture. Adjust seasoning and serve immediately, adding more lemon juice to taste.