About Me
I'm a Melbourne boy, hailing from St Kilda with one ex, one current wife and four kids. Love the outdoors and making new discoveries. I cook a lot at home (cheers from wife) and do some preserving, mostly jams, pickles and fruit liqueurs. This is the diary of a cooking journey.

My Complete Profile

Recent Posts
The Gross Factor
Weekend Herb Blogging #40
Comfort Foods
Portuguese Dreaming
Takeout
Bendigo Gold
Kill That Taco
Musseling In
For You
Great British Menu

Links
1001 Dinners 1001 Nights
A Few of My Favourite Things
Abstract Gourmet
Apellation Australia
Becks and Posh
BurgerMary ATX
Cook (almost) Anything at least once
Cooking Down Under
Cook sister!
Cooked And Bottled In Brunswick
David Lebovitz
Deep Dish Dreams
Chef Paz
Chubby Hubby
Eating Melbourne
Eating With Jack
essjay eats
Food Lover's Journey
Gosstronomy
Grab Your Fork
I Am Obsessed With Food
I Eat Therefore I Am
Iron Chef Shellie
Just Desserts
Kalyn's Kitchen
Kitchen Wench
Lobstersquad
Matt Bites
Melbourne Gastronome
My Kitchen in Half Cups
Nola Cuisine
Not Quite Nigella
Nourish Me
Seriously Good
Souvlaki For The Soul
Stone Soup
Sunnybrae
Syrup and Tang
Steve Don't Eat It!
That Jess Ho
The Elegant Sufficiency
The Perfect Pantry
The View From My Porch
Thyme for Cooking
Tomato
Tumeric & Saffron
tummy rumbles
What I Cooked Last Night
where's the beef
WhiteTrashBBQ
Vicious Ange

Food Blog Resources
Food Blog S'cool
I Eat I Drink I Work
Kiplog Food Links

Food for Thought
Autism Victoria
Autism Vox
forget me now
Lotus Martinis
MOM - Not Otherwise Specified
St Kilda Today

Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Cooking Flu
In my previous post, I related how I watched telly with my daughter on a cold Sunday afternoon. Lest you think we are just couch potatoes, it wasn't the only thing we did all day. It must have been the weather for I was in a cooking mood right from the word go.

For breakfast nothing seemed better than a plateful of Huevos Rancheros, only I didn't have corn tortillas or masa harina, nor did I want to go shopping, so after a look in the fridge there were some leftover boiled spuds, perfect. I made a cooked salsa using that workhorse Mexican chile, the guaillo, fried the spuds in some oil, then fried the eggs and plated everything up. Despite the lack of any tortillas, the dish stood up well. Just in case you are wondering, there was no hangover involved at all.

Later on I grabbed a free range Glenloth chicken from the fridge, sectioned it and made a stock with the carcass and used that to make a sauce after frying off the chicken pieces, then braised them in the sauce for twenty minutes. The pieces were then removed and the sauce was quickly reduced over high heat to intensify the flavours. Whilst that was reducing I made some rice pilaf - nothing better to soak up the chickeny juices. The traditional accompaniment to chicken fricasse is baby mushrooms and onions, but I was toying with the idea of adding in either porcini or morel mushrooms instead. But after a taste of the sauce I decided to keep it simple and concentrate on the chicken flavour alone.

This cooking bug that I had contracted was contagious.

Whilst we were watching telly, my daughter M wandered off for a bit. Suddenly she reappeared and in her six year old excitement announced that she had made a cake and I should come and have a look. In some trepidation I went with her to the kitchen, hand in hand, looked around but could see no cake.

"Where's your cake, darling?"

"Over there."

I looked over there and could see a bowl with what looked like a whole bottle of milk in it.

"Is that a milk cake, honey?"

With a look reserved for simple people, she said "No, there is flour in it."

There was too.

I explained to her that she must always cook with an adult. What else was there to do, but back up my statement? Out came the scales, flour, butter, sugar and sour cream. M rubbed the butter into the flour, cut out a parchment circle, mixed the wet and dry ingredients, greased the tin and licked the bowl. Clean. The next day when I caught up with my wife D, I asked her if M had told her about the cake.

"Yes she did, she said it was delicious."

Sometimes I think there is no better job in this world, and the bonus is that M calls me dad.
 
  posted at 10:14 am
  1 comments



1 Comments:
At 7:52 pm, Blogger pentacular said...

tankedup, what a great 'dad' story, and boy is it good to hear that word. I made a little butter cake yesterday and iced it with lemon icing, not the thick variety. It was scrumptious. Every second Saturday I make biscuits with S(3) who loves to lick the bowl even if its raw cocoa dust, yeeek. Cheers Gregory

 

Post a Comment

<< Home



Search


Recipe Categories
Soups
Salads
Vegetables
Poultry
Pork
Beef
Cakes & Desserts
Miscellaneous

Archives
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
May 2009
June 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
February 2010
March 2010
April 2010
May 2010
June 2010
July 2010
August 2010
September 2010
October 2010
November 2010
December 2010
February 2011
March 2011
April 2011
May 2011
June 2011
July 2011
August 2011
September 2011
July 2012

Miscellaneous
AUSTRALIAN FOOD BLOGGERS
Prev ~ List ~ Random ~ Join ~ Next
Site Ring from Bravenet


Site Feed

counter easy hit

Credits
Blog Design by:


Image created by:
Ximena Maier

Powered by:


Photos, Original Recipes, and Text - (C) Copyright: 2005-2010
At My Table by Neil Murray, all rights reserved.
You may re-post a recipe, please give credit and post a link to this site.

Contact Me
Neil Murray

Follow messytable on Twitter