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Twee verruklike deegdisse uit Theresa de Vries se Deeg

Deeg is die enigste boek oor deeg wat jy ooit nodig sal kry!

Alle soorte deeg om terte of pasteie te maak word bespreek – broskors, blaarkors, skilferkors, warmwaterkors, fillo en strudeldeeg, ook die gewilde Marokkaanse ouarkadeeg.

’n Besonderse boek wat al die kunsies van deeg fynkam: bestanddele, toerusting, basiese beginsels en puik resepte.

Deeg dek ook algemene foute wat by deeg kan voorkom en die oorsake daarvan. En om die terte of pasteie te laat pronk gee Theresa wonderlike aanwysings oor hoe om dit alles te versier.

Word ’n bobaas bakker met hierdie boek wat selfs intimiderende deegresepte maklik maak.

Hier is twee verruklike deegdisse – een vir die vleisliefhebbers én die met ‘n soettand!
 

Springbok Wellington

 

Lewer 4 porsies

DEEG
1/2. x resep Blaarkorsdeeg (sien bl. 76)
1 eiergeel vir bo-oor verf

VULSEL
500 g sampioene, skoongemaak en in skyfies gesny
90 ml olyfolie
200 g spinasie, stingels verwyder
1 stuk Springbok-rugfilet (sowat
25 cm lank) of beesfilet sout en peper na smaak
25 ml aangemaakte mosterd
Hanepoot-jagtersous
1 ui, fyngekap
250 g sampioene, skoongevee en fyngekap
25 ml olyfolie
125 ml hanepoot-soetwyn
250 ml vleisaftreksel
125 ml room
50 ml fyngekapte pietersielie sout en peper na smaak

1. Vulsel: Braai sampioene in 40 ml olie tot gaar. Skep sampioene uit pan. Laat afkoel.

2. Dompel die spinasie in ’n kastrol met kokende water net tot dit verwelk. Skep spinasie met gaatjieslepel uit water en plaas oop op kombuispapier om te dreineer. Laat afkoel.

3. Plaas sampioene in ’n voedselverwerker en verwerk tot ’n pasta. Hou eenkant.

4. Geur die vleis met sout en peper. Smeer die vleis reg rondom met mosterd. Plaas in ’n vlak pan en braai in die 50 ml olie tot verse.l aan alle kante. Skep vleis uit die pan. Draai vleis styf toe met kleefplastiek en plaas vleisrol in yskas om heeltemal af te koel.

5. Voorverhit die oond tot 200 ÅãC. Smeer of spuit ’n bakplaat.

6. Deeg: Rol deeg uit in ’n vierkant van 30 cm – en 5 mm dik – op ’n meelbestrooide oppervlak.

7. Smeer die sampioenpasta in die middel van die deegvierkant – so breed soos die vleisrol is.

8. Versprei die spinasie eweredig oor die sampioenlaag.

9. Haal vleisrol uit yskas en verwyder kleefplastiek. Plaas die vleisrol op die spinasielaag. Rol die deeg styf op, soos vir ’n rolkoek. Plaas die deegrol op die bakplaat, met die naatkant na onder.

10. Rol orige deeg uit. Sny blaartjies of versierings uit en plaas op die deegrol. Verf deeg met eiergeel.

11. Bak deegrol vir 30-40 minute of tot goudbruin.

12. Sous: Braai die ui en sampioene in die olie tot sag en deurskynend. Voeg die wyn by en kook vir 2 minute tot die alkohol weggekook het.

13. Voeg die aftreksel en room by. Kook tot sous effens verdik.

14. Roer die pietersielie by. Geur met sout en peper en kook die sous deur.

15. Haal die deegrol uit die oond en sny in porsies. Sit voor met die sous.

 

Suurlemoen-en-grenadellablommetjies

 

 
Lewer 12 groot tertjies

Deeg
1 x resep Warmwaterkorsdeeg
(sien bl. 138)
eierwit vir bo-oor verf

Vulsel
250 ml water
200 g suiker
120 ml mielieblom
6 groot eiergele, geklits
125 ml vars suurlemoensap
1 blikkie (115 g) grenadellapulp
5 ml gerasperde suurlemoenskil
100 ml suurroom
30 ml botter, in blokkies gesny

Meringue
4 eierwitte
2,5 ml kremetart
80 ml witsuiker
45 ml versiersuiker

1. Voorverhit die oond tot 180°C. Smeer of spuit 12 holtes van ’n groot muffinpan.

2. Deeg: Rol louwarm deeg uit tot 3 mm dik op ’n meelbestrooide oppervlak. Druk 12 groot blompatrone met ’n koekiedrukker uit die deeg. Voer holtes van die muffi npan met deegpatrone uit. Sny die kante netjies en prik die deeg met ’n vurk. Bak blind vir 15 minute (sien metode, bl. 13).

3. Haal uit oond, verwyder waspapier en verf eierwit oor die boom van die deeg. Plaas vir nog 5 minute in die oond.

4. Vulsel: Plaas die water, suiker en mielieblom in ’n kastrol.

5. Voeg die eiergele en suurlemoensap by en verhit oor lae hitte. Roer en bring tot kookpunt. Laat kook tot verdik.

6. Voeg die grenadellapulp en suurlemoenskil by die suikermengsel.

7. Roer die botter en suurroom by. Verwyder van hitte. Plaas ’n vel kleefplastiek direk bo-op die vulsel. Laat afkoel.

8. Meringue: Klits die eierwitte en kremetart tot skuimerig en wit.

9. Klits die suiker en versiersuiker stadig by en klits aanhoudend tot dik.

10. Verwyder kleefplastiek en verdeel die vulsel tussen die voorbereide korse.

11. Skep meringue in die spuitsak en spuit klein rosies op die vulsel. Sprinkel die klapper oor.

12. Bak tertjies vir 20 minute of tot die meringue verkleur.

Wenk
Klein blommetjies: Die tertjies kan ook in 2 klein muffinpanne gemaak word om 24 klein tertjies te lewer. Druk 24 kleiner blompatrone met ’n koekiedrukker uit die uitgerolde deeg, voer die 24 muffinholtes daarmee uit en bak en berei soos beskryf.

Deeg

Boekbesonderhede

Tales of the Karoo platteland and a recipe for all-day venison: take a sneak peek into Tony Jackman's foodSTUFF

foodSTUFF

The cookbook as memoir, or memoir as cookbook? With foodSTUFF, maverick food writer Tony Jackman presents us with a refreshingly original take on life and food.

He relates every heartache, every joy, and does not shy away from imparting the pain of loss of a family member or his troubled relationship with his father.

The stories of his journey towards adulthood are counterbalanced by rich tales from his life. foodSTUFF has many meaty recipes, spicy poultry dishes, some of Jackman’s eccentric signature dishes, and desserts he likes to spoil his friends with.

Jackman, known in particular for his article “Sliced & Diced” in the Weekend Argus, invites you into his world, from humble beginnings in an English working-class family to an illustrious career as an unapologetically eccentric South African foodie, playwright and author.

foodSTUFF tosses together tales from a rich, nomadic life with masses of meaty recipes (Obies oxtail potjie, beef fillet with melted French Brie, parsley-crusted rack of lamb); spicy poultry dishes (tamarind duck curry, chicken coconut curry); a handful of signature dishes (spanspek soup, bacon-and-beer braai bread); and the desserts with which Jackman likes to spoil his friends (the chocolatiest chocolate tart ever, lemon syrup cake, pears in Chardonnay Pinot Noir with a Parmesan wafer).

Get a taste for Tony’s book with this excerpt and recipe…

The T-shirt was black and bore an image of tall buildings, the Empire State at the centre. The legend: ‘I lost my heart to NYC.’ This tiny main-street fashion store was an odd place to find this wayward item of clothing, for we were not in Manhattan but in Calvinia, Northern Cape, South Africa.

As if to illustrate the irony, a blowsy woman pointed to the T-shirt my wife was eyeing and declared, ‘NYC? What’s NYC?’

Yep, you’re in the country now, and not everyone who lives here has ventured much beyond Nieuwoudtville, the world’s flower capital, 70 kilometres away. If you think this is a swipe at local habits, the truth is that the more you travel, the more you find that there are people everywhere, NYC included, who choose to keep it local and aren’t overly interested in anything beyond the highway that leads out of town.

When we lived in West Sussex we knew a woman who had never been to London, barely 100 kilometres away. We met a horse-and-cart driver in Kilkenny, Ireland, who had never been to Dublin or Galway. Nor did he want to. Many Yorkshire folk, members of my family included, either never go to London or, like my cousin Molly, went once and vowed never to go back. And local is, as we like to say, lekker, whether local means Brooklyn, Midhurst, Bradford or Calvinia.

So when in New York City, Rome, wherever, I like to do things the local way, and when in a place like Calvinia I seek out the local meat. There’s an annual meat festival here to celebrate the top-class lamb from this sheep-farming region of the Hantam Karoo. This is the western reach of the vast plains that sweep much of the interior of South Africa, and in March it’s hot and still, with a Karoo breeze picking up late afternoon to cool your evening around the braai.

On that morning, we left the local fashion boutique and wandered into the butchery next door where beautifully prepared cuts of meat were set out in a bank of fridges. The pork and beef are brought in, I was told, but the lamb was all local.

There were legs, shanks, slabs of rib, and lambs’ necks.

The last time I’d cooked lamb’s neck whole, I’d underestimated the cooking time or, more truthfully, run out of time. And there’s no point in cooking lamb’s neck at all if it isn’t allowed to become fall-off-the-bone tender. It’s impossible to gouge the meat out of the knobby bones if it’ even remotely tough. But when it is super soft – as it should be – you can pick up the bone and suck out the juicy contents. A bib would not be out of place.

Next door to the butchery was an old-fashioned bottle store with a wooden counter where an old feller, looking the worse for wear, packaged up the bottle of Tassenberg red I’d selected. Around the corner there was another bottle store where I bought a bottle of red fortified wine labelled Travino Matador, which the shop assistant said was a red muscadel. According to the label it was wooded, which immediately intrigued me.

At the Hantam Huis, which for years had surely been the best country store in the land, we bought a jar of tomato konfyt. They made the best breakfasts anywhere, complete with top-end boerewors and skilpaadjie (caul-wrapped lamb’sliver) and wonderful stoneground porridge served with fynbos honey.

Just outside the kitchen door of the house at which we were staying was a well-established rosemary bush, which I had partially denuded on earlier visits, and some sprigs of this, combined with the Tassies, the wooded fortified red, and some fresh garlic and ginger I had bought, became the makings of a slow-cooked pot-roasted lamb’s neck that I left to simmer away for the rest of the day.

My base was the Boekehuis, a very old Karoo house with creaking floors and the presence of spirits unseen.

You’re alone in the house for a week and when you climb into bed and turn out the light, you pull the bed sheets up over your chin and open your eyes wide like a child who’s been warned about the tokoloshe. There are curious scurryings of what you hope are tiny birds’feet on the corrugated-iron roof. The walls make hushed, mysterious noises.

It’s all strangely welcome, because this is a house to write in and it sharpens you up, a creaky house where I wrote two plays and where my wife wrote her novel. Where David Kramer has spent long days and nights writing, where Helen Walne wrote her searingly honest The Diving about her brother’s suicide and where many great South African works first found their pages.

It’s a house in which you can write of dark and uncomfortable things.

The Boekehuis is part of the life’s work of formidable and elegant Alta Coetzee and it is my favourite house anywhere other than the homes in which I have lived. It’s a house where you welcome the drawing in of the night so that you can light a fire in the old black kitchen range and put a pot on. Where you open a bottle of aged Cabernet Sauvignon and glug-glug-glug it into a glass, where the wine goes to your head as you pore over your research material to absorb what will turn into words the next morning. Where once, after I had finished a draft of my first play, Alta’s one-of-a-kind doctor-wine connoisseur husband Erwin cracked open a bottle of Cristal to toast my work. So here’s a toast to Alta and Erwin Coetzee and their benevolent charity to writers. I might sommer drink the whole bottle.

ALL-DAY VENISON

Whether you’re in the Hantam Karoo, the Klein Karoo or the Moordenaars Karoo, if you don’t hunt game you need a mate who does – someone who lives on a farm or shoots buck in the wild
to sell the fine meat to fancy restaurants.

Once in a while, they will pop by to hand you a bag with something intriguing in it. A haunch of warthog, a loin of takbok (fallow deer), or a quartet of springbok shanks. This is a more-or-less recipe for whatever venison has been bestowed on you.

Cut into small pieces and treat in the way the French and Italians do, which means cooked slowly forever at a bashful temperature.

Sauté the onion and garlic in olive oil until lightly golden. Add the cans of tomato and braai relish, wine, apple jelly, coriander, turmeric, Worcestershire sauce and sherry. Season with salt and pepper. Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer.

Add the cubed meat and stir to coat. Add the chopped parsley. Bring back to a very gentle simmer, cover, and allow to burble away for several hours. This needs to be very ‘stewy’, with the meat disintegrating so that it almost becomes one with the developing sauce.

About an hour before it’ s likely to be ready, stir the cornflour and milk together until no lumps remain, then add a little at a time to the pot, stirring with a wooden spoon. Cover again and allow to simmer until done.

Serve with buttery mashed potato.

1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
3 Tbs olive oil
1 x 410 g can
chopped tomatoes
1 x 410 g can braai relish
(chopped tomatoes and
onions with chilli)
1 large glass dry white wine
1–3 Tbs apple jelly
(or similar)
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp ground turmeric
dash Worcestershire sauce
splash of sherry (or port)
salt and pepper to taste
800 g lean venison,
cut into small cubes
handful parsley leaves (stems
removed), finely chopped
1 Tbs cornflour
2 Tbs milk

Book details

Nie vir Ma's Nie is dié resepteboek vir pa en die telge

Met dié boek word ma’s tydelik uit die kombuis verban, want jou wederhelf en kinders is van plan om jou te bederf met heerlike kos wat hulle sonder hulp of te veel moeite kan voorberei.

Nie vir Ma’s Nie se resepte is maklik, beproef en het stap-vir-stap aanwysings wat enige groentjie gemaklik sal laat in die kombuis.

Die boek verskaf ook die nodige omskakelingstabelle en wenke en laat kinders toe om meer te leer oor die doel van kombuistoerusting. Buiten heerlike resepte, is daar ook ’n hele hoop wenke wat kosmaak sommer kinderspeletjies maak.

Komaan, pa! Jy en die telge kan!

Daar is heerlike idees vir ontbyte, ligte etes, voorgeregte, kitskos, aandetes, bykosse, braaidisse, nageregte, teetyd-versnaperinge en smulgoed vir smulpape.

 
 

Boekbesonderhede

Meat Manifesto: two Fenner-dishes to treat your dad to this Father's Day

Andy Fenner believes you can’t sell meat unless you know what to do with it and, in between personal food philosophies and agricultural insights, Meat Manifesto celebrates various cuts of meat, by introducing readers to them and offering delicious recipes best suited to each specific one.

Andy smokes, grills and roasts his way through beef, pork, lamb, venison, poultry and even goat as recipes range from exotic (tongue, ears and offal) to basic (how to grill a pork chop).

The book will explain how to make bacon at home but also why you should be eating grass-fed beef, as opposed to feedlot.

It will show you how to butcher a chicken at home but also explain how to best cook it.

It is meticulously researched but presented in an approachable way.

The end goal is to walk people through various meat recipes, sure, but also to strengthen the reader’s relationship with their supply chain by asking them to consider if they really are happy with the status quo.

This Father’s Day, treat your dad to one of these two deliciously meaty dishes – and the book, of course!
 

Lamb rump with deep fried capers and anchovy aioli

 

 

Most of us buckle before a whole leg of lamb roasted for Sunday lunch, but turn your attention to the smaller, more delicate rump as an easy weeknight meal for two. It’s a cut that invites you to try the meat a little pink in the middle. Anchovies work well with lamb and I love how the deep-fried capers in this recipe add texture. Incidentally, capers are an age-old accompaniment to mutton; this meal featured in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night and, frankly, what’s good enough for the bard…

Cooking time: 20–25 minutes

Serves 4

For the lamb
2–3 (800g in total) lamb rumps
salt, to season
black pepper, to season
2–3 sprigs thyme, destemmed

For the capers
2 Tblsp capers, drained
1 cup canola oil

For the aioli

1 garlic cloves, peeled, whole
1 egg yolk
100ml olive oil
100ml canola oil
1 Tblsp tinned anchovies, drained, finely chopped
½ tsp sea salt

Preheat the oven to 200°C.

With a sharp knife, score the fat side of the lamb rump, coat on all sides with olive oil and rub generously with sea salt, black pepper and thyme.

On the stovetop, heat an ovenproof pan over a medium heat and cook the rumps (one at a time, if necessary), fat-side down until browned.

Place the pan in the oven and roast for another 20–25 minutes or until done to your liking (use a meat thermometer to establish the internal temperature: I’d recommend 60°C for this cut).

Remove from the oven, set aside and rest for 15 minutes.

For the aioli:
In a bowl, crush the garlic and add the sea salt. Whisk in the egg yolk.

Combine the olive and canola oils.

Put the garlic and egg mix into a food processor, set the paddle on its lowest setting and very, very slowly add the oil mixture.

When the aioli is a thick, yoghurty consistency, remove, place in a bowl and fold in the anchovies.

For the garnish:
In a deep pot on the stovetop, heat the canola oil and carefully add the capers. Cook until they “pop”.
Remove with a slotted spoon.

To serve: thickly slice the lamb rump and fan onto a plate. Spoon over a dollop of anchovy mayo and top with capers.


Burnt fig, mozzarella and biltong salad

 

 
We openly celebrate cured beef from abroad like bresaola (a dry-cured beef speciality from Northern Italy) but, weirdly, South Africans don’t treat biltong with the same respect.

Biltong shouldn’t be restricted to a snack in front of the rugby or road-trip fuel. We should celebrate our homegrown speciality cured meat more. For this recipe, I’ve used flavours that
I know work with bresaola and would be pretty great with biltong too. Cooking the figs releases their sweetness, a neat counter to the salty beef.

The result is a quick meal that looks impressive and tastes delicious.

Preparation time: less than 10 minutes

Serves 4

For the figs
olive oil, enough to cover the base of a pan
8 ripe figs, halved lengthways

For the salad
20ml olive oil
5ml sherry vinegar
sea salt, to season
cracked black pepper, to season
½ red onion, finely sliced (use a mandolin, if possible)
2 cups watercress, washed, dried

to serve
150g wet, lean beef biltong, thinly sliced
1 x 125g ball fresh mozzarella

For the figs
On the stovetop, heat enough olive oil to cover the base of a pan and place the figs, cut-side down.
Fry for 2–3 minutes (it’s okay if deep colour develops).
Remove the pan from the heat.

For the salad:
In a small bowl, combine the olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper and, using a fork, whisk to emulsify.
In a deep, non-reactive bowl, combine the red onion and watercress leaves and pour over the dressing. Use your hands to mix gently, but be careful not to bruise the leaves.

To serve: plate the dressed leaves as a base on a large platter and top generously with the beef biltong. Scatter torn mozzarella and arrange the cooked figs on top.

Photography: Craig Fraser
Food styling: Justine Kiggen

Meat Manifesto

Book details

"All the recipes in Johanne 14 carry memories of comfort" - a Q&A with Hope Malau

Chef Hope Malau grew up in Klerksdorp in the North West Province eating traditional Sotho food prepared by his dad, who worked in a mine kitchen. Instilled with a deep love for cooking from an early age, Hope went on to study at the Professional Cooking Academy in Rustenburg before garnering experience at various restaurants in Cape Town. Hope is currently the food editor for DRUM magazine and has also won the prestigious Galliova Food Writer of the Year for the past two consecutive years.

Here he discusses his childhood memories of family meals, the traditional South African food scene, and why he is so attached to any Magau recipe…

You grew up eating traditional Sotho food prepared by your father. Would you cite your family as the main inspiration behind your love for all things culinary?
Yes, especially my granddad. He loves food because his body demanded good food and we adapted the same love. The memories of watching him cook and placing me on his lap to feed me while chatting about the goodness of what he has prepared. We were friends in a sense of he would take me everywhere to experience the cultures and community we were surrounded by in the township. Then experiencing food from my granddad’s work place in the mine kitchen and seeing the man wearing chefs-white got me more curious about food. When I got the chance to be a chef I worked hard at it and still am.

What made you decide to publish a book consisting of home-cooked meals in South African townships?
I didn’t publish it; Quivertree fell in love with how passionate I was about simple South African and almost-forgotten food that celebrate culture, community and family of black township South Africans. I’m glad that Quivertree Publications turned me into an author of this great book.

What are your thoughts regarding the current local cookbook-scene?
I’m glad that my book has knocked some interest into traditional South African food. I’m hoping that Johanne14 becomes that book that ignites excitement in young people about cooking.

Would you like to see more books devoted to traditional meals prepared as a family?
Yes, we need to show tourist how we celebrate as South African families, what brings us together.

If you had to pick a favourite recipe from Johanne14, what would it be and why?
That is a tough question as all the recipes in Johanne14 carry memories of comfort. But if I have to choose I would choose Megau a lot of people have forgotten how Megau used to create Ubuntu and taste different from store bought. You’ll understand me more by reading through the recipe in Johanne14 about Ubuntu.

Johanne 14

Book details

Clover Tradisionele Suid-Afrikaanse Gunstelinge bevat resepte vir bunny chow, marog, smoorsnoek, isidudu en meer!

Clover Gunsteling Suid-Afrikaanse Kos
Suid-Afrika is ’n wonderlike vermenging van kulture en nêrens is dit meer duidelik as in die interessante verskeidenheid tradisionele kosgunstelinge nie. Die kombinasie van inheemse kulture en honderde jare se immigrasie beteken dat Suid-Afrika een van die wêreld se mees kleurryke en diverse kostradisies het.

In Clover Tradisionele Suid-Afrikaanse Gunstelinge deel ons iets van die verskeidenheid – soos ’n Bunny Chow, romerige marog, smoorsnoek, soetsuurlewer, vetkoek, isidudu, mashonza (mopaniewurms), wildspastei en botterhoender.

Met Clover aan die stuur, val die kollig natuurlik op Cloverprodukte wat op slim maniere inkorporeer word om smullekker resepte te ontwikkel – van ligte etes tot hoofgeregte en ietsie soet. Marlo Carstens het elkeen van die resepte getoets en toeganklik gemaak.

’n Persentasie van die boek se verkope word aan die Clover Mama Afrika-projek geskenk.
 
 

Boekbesonderhede