Without care, ratatouille can turn into unappealing mush, but done well, it is an ideal way to make the most of plentiful late-summer vegetables.
I recently returned from a quick trip to Queenstown, my shopping bags heavy with local produce. Although shopping was not the purpose of my visit, I picked up so many punnets of sweet raspberries that they ended up crammed together. The result, of course, was a bloody trail as I left the plane’s cabin on my return home.
On a brief visit to a specialist food store, the Mediterranean Market, I felt spoilt for choice and, with a domestic budget in mind, I was overcome with a sense of having to stock up on whatever I could for the coming winter months.
So it was with much pride, and a certain degree of calm, that I presented the results of my day trip when I returned home. I brought back garlic heads, which we roasted whole then spread thickly on toast, the aroma bringing satisfied smiles and making me more determined to ensure all the garlic we use in the restaurant is New Zealand-grown.
The sour cherry-plums were used, with possibly a bit much tongue-numbing tarragon, to stuff a loin of hare, and I considered using the yellow-hued cherries in various ways, but we ended up eating them raw. The local cheeses never made it past Christchurch, because I couldn’t resist eating them. This was quite an achievement, given how little room you get on one of those small aircraft.
Huge mushrooms, fat zucchini, bunches of dazzlingly green watercress and bottles of peppery local olive oil were added to the shopping basket, and a week’s worth of home-cooked dinners seemed sorted.
Although I like my home cooking to feel relatively spontaneous, a dish such as ratatouille – the famous vege-table stew of Provence – requires a bit of thought. It is a fabulous late-summer meal that makes the most of cheap ingredients. Although ratatouille is often served as an unappealing mush, a well-conceived version is possibly the most noble treatment some vegetables can receive, especially the zucchini, which, because of its excessive moisture content, is good for little else except serving raw. Prepare all the vegetables before putting anything into the pan, as some of them take longer to cook, and make sure you start the ratatouille before the risotto.
Controversially, I don’t go in for the standard “ladle-by-ladle” method of making risotto, especially after Italy’s premier rice farmer, Gabriele Ferron, convinced me it was unnecessary. Follow his method and you end up with rich, creamy, delicious rice without even breaking a sweat.
It’s small tips like these that demystify cooking, make it more enjoyable and give you more confidence, resulting in a string of successful dishes.
Risotto with Ratatouille Vegetables and Mascarpone
Ratatouille
2 large aubergine
3 zucchini
1 onion
2 red capsicums
4 large tomatoes
2 cloves of garlic
80ml olive oil
1 loosely packed cup of basil leaves
salt and freshly ground black pepper
Cut the aubergines into 2cm cubes and the zucchinis into 2cm slices. Chop the onion. Quarter and seed the capsicums, then slice each quarter into pieces similar in size to the aubergine cubes. Cut the tomatoes in half, seed, then chop the flesh. Crush and chop the garlic. Place a large saucepan over the heat, then add the oil. Fry the onion and garlic until soft and lightly coloured, then add the capsicum and cook until shiny and soft – about 5 minutes. Add the aubergine and zucchini to the pan and cook for 15-20 minutes. Finely shred the basil leaves, then stir into the vegetables along with the tomato. Season with salt and pepper, then cook another 6-8 minutes.
Serves 4.
risotto
600ml chicken stock
1 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp unsalted butter
½ cup of finely chopped onion
500g carnaroli or arborio rice
1 bay leaf
160ml dry white wine or vermouth
salt and freshly ground black
pepper to taste
2 tbsp mascarpone
Put the stock into a saucepan and bring it to a gentle simmer. Meanwhile, heat the oil in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. Add the butter, and once it has melted, add the onion and gently sauté until it is soft and shiny but without colour. Lower the heat, then add the rice and allow it to gently toast, stirring continuously so that all the grains are coated in butter and oil. As the rice cooks, it will start to give off delicate nutty, floral aromas. This should take about 5 minutes.
Stir in the bay leaf, then pour in the wine or vermouth. Stir until the wine is absorbed, then pour in all the simmering stock, stirring well. Cover with a lid, cook for 13 minutes, then uncover and stir. Test the rice – it should still be a little firm to the bite – and season with salt and pepper. Stir the ratatouille into the risotto, then cook for a further 3 minutes. Divide between 4 warm bowls and top with a spoonful of mascarpone.
Serves 4.
I threw the South Island watercress into a frying pan with some glisteningly fresh chicken livers, some of the mushrooms and a splash of sherry, then I added gnocchi to give the dish some weight.
Sautéed Chicken Livers with Gnocchi, Mushrooms, Sherry and Watercress
1 onion
50g unsalted butter
2 cloves garlic
400g store-bought potato gnocchi
8 portobello mushrooms, thinly sliced
12 large chicken livers
1 sprig fresh thyme
1 tbsp chopped fresh tarragon
salt and freshly ground black pepper
100ml dry sherry
1 handful of watercress sprigs
Chop the onion. Melt the butter in a frying pan, then add the onion to the pan and gently sauté until soft and golden brown at the edges. Crush and coarsely chop the garlic, then add to the pan with the gnocchi and mushrooms. As soon as the gnocchi turns a light gold and the mushrooms soften, carefully add the livers, thyme and tarragon. Season with salt and pepper, then continue cooking over a high heat until the livers develop a speckled brown crust. Pour in the sherry and cook for 2 minutes, then remove the livers to a warm plate. With the pan still on the heat, add the watercress and cook until it wilts. Divide the watercress between 4 hot plates, then place a portion of liver on top.
Serves 4.