The title to this series was originally going to be either of two alternatives, Cooking Made Easy for Munters, or Food to Pull Chicks, but I thought that isolating half your potential audience was a little foolhardy. But, I have noticed that food is something sadly neglected by the average Kiwi male. So in the interests of public safety and the general reputation of other Kiwi blokes, over the next few weeks or months I'll be putting up a few recipes stolen from the various restaurants I've dishpigged in over the years.
Mind you, not all these recipes are stolen. Some are ones I've read in various cookbooks and dumbed down to my level of skill, which means if you're the kind of bloke (or sheila) who can't find their arse or elbow in the kitchen, you should be right to whip these beauties up.
But again, if you can't even cook toast without burning it, then you might even be too hopeless to do any of this stuff. However, if you're feeling adventurous, and want to foray into the wild world of good food and a big wicked smile on the (potential) missus' face, then read on.
Now, I'm not a chef. I never had pretensions of being a chef, and I don't particularly like the buggers. I did however pay attention when they were busy and I wasn't, like all good employees should. As a consequence, I've learn a few tricks that simplify the stuff you read in the cookbooks produced by choir boys like Jamie Oliver, and I'm willing to share this all with you.
Aren't I a nice bloke?
Thing is, awhile back I realised that if I ever wanted to eat decent food again I had to either move back in with Mum, or get hitched asap. As neither was an immediate option, I started making all kinds of crap food to see if I could do it. Fifteen years later, I have a few ideas and a few gems I use when cooking for other people. Also, having had to cook for myself for the past eight years or so (flats in Aussie typically do 'own food'), I have the proportions right for cooking for one or two. Convenient ay?
Mostly this is a public service, like I say. Bad food is a blot on the nation. If you're the sort of bastard who goes to a fancy restaurant and orders a steak of Black Angus, Well Done, you deserve a bullet. Maybe you can get away with that in a dodgy place, sometimes you need that steak to be well-done to avoid food poisoning. But man, a big hairy animal DIED so you can have that steak. It was never a bit of 'red stuff' in a cryo-vac (hopefully). At some stage someone has EXECUTED one of the worlds creatures, and you go and have the bejesus cooked out of it because you can't stand the sight of blood. I'm sure the cattlebeast didn't like the sight of blood either...
Anyhow, most of these recipes are simple fare, or one-pot boilers that emphasise good eating. If your only intention is to provide an entree before you get her kit off, then piss off. Seriously. Piss off right now and don't come back. Ever. Order a pizza for Christ's sake and buy a box of red goon.
Food is about people and their company, so if you just want to put on a good feed, one those one's that make you fart unexpectedly, or if you're doing it to provide that elusive 'dinner conversation', then bloody good on ya boy, I'll put up a few meals that can help you out, should you need it.
Oh, and read the recipe BEFORE you start to cook. Saves on the dramas.
Big Creamy Pasta or Cabonara
For this recipe you'll need a few things. If you don't have these or can't identify them, ring up your Mum to explain what they are. And all of the ingredients should be available at the supermarket. I know some of you worry that cooking will make you a 'homo', so I'll try to never send you to the deli if I can help it. These things are:
A frying pan.
A biggish pot, two thirds filled with water, and a lid on it.
A sharp knife (blunt knives are more dangerous that sharp ones).
A wooden spoon to stir the pasta and sauce.
A dessert spoon to measure things.
OK, for ingredients you need (this recipe is for two).
300ml of full cream.
150g of Tomato paste.
One onion.
Two teaspoons of crushed garlic.
A bunch of raw bacon, however much you like. Usually one 200g pack sliced into 1cm squares (cut off the chewy rind and chuck it away, but leave the fat on there).
A chunk of smoked chicken, maybe 150-200g cut into little 1cm chunks.
A packet of that fresh pasta, whatever kind you like, but I tend to use penne or farfalle (bowties), to avoid embarrassing accidents with things like spaghetti.
Salt and pepper.
A packet/tin of parmesan cheese, grated finely.
A bottle of olive oil. Don't use plain oil, canola oil, peanut oil or anything else.
The number one thing to do is to turn on the water while you're preparing the sauce. If it's boiling while you're getting ready, just turn it down a bit, and crank it up again before it's time to add the pasta.
This food is very, very easy to make. First, chop your onion as finely as you can. You don't want filthy great lumps of the stuff floating around, so put a bit of effort in. Slice it long-ways, take off the skin, then cut it all across one way, then across the other. Whack the lot in the pan, then add the crushed garlic. You can buy crushed garlic off the shelf, and save faffing about slicing it finely. Next, add about two dessert spoons of the olive oil.
Turn on your frying pan, and when it starts to sizzle, stir it all with the wooden spoon. You DON'T want the garlic or onion to turn brown or burn. Usually you just turn the temperature up to about half, and cook it gently. This isn't a barbie you're dealing with here.
When the onion starts to turn a paler colour of white, and before it burns, chuck in the bacon, stir for a couple of minutes till it looks like the colour has changed from 'red' to 'pink', then chuck in the chicken.
Meanwhile, the water is boiling and you've already put the fresh pasta in the pot. Seriously, fresh pasta. Don't be a goddamn cheapskate. Fresh pasta is easy to use and tastes great. If I thought you weren't a total nuffin I'd be telling you how to make your own. But, baby steps, baby steps.
Add a dessert spoon of olive oil to the pasta pot, along with a tiny bit of salt, and stir to make sure the pasta doesn't stick. Leave the lid off, if it stays on the water will boil over and that's a hassle.
By now the pan is ready for the cream. Tip the whole bottle in, and stir the lot. Add a little salt, put in a little pepper. Then, add about half a dessert spoon of the tomato paste. Put the rest in the fridge for next time, that's all you'll need. Then, stir maybe one or two dessert spoons of the parmesan cheese into the mix.
OK, now this is the tricky part. The idea is to reduce down the amount of liquid in the pan. At the moment there's too much water in there, and you need to simmer a little off. It's actually easy, just stir the mix till the sauce doesn't run off the wooden spoon, but kind of sticks to it in a slightly 'melted cheese' kind of way. You don't need the heat too high, just enough to keep the whole thing simmering. It should take about five minutes.
While you're doing this, you can check the pasta. It's cooked when you bite into a piece and it doesn't have an uncooked bit in the middle. DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT cook it till it's a soggy, limp piece of crap. It should be firm to the bite but not raw. Again, a little tricky, but practice makes perfect.
If your pasta is ready, but the sauce isn't thick enough yet, just turn off the heat, and tip the water out. You can either use a sieve or keep the lid on and tip water into the sink. Be careful, pasta accidentally going into a dirty sink is a 'bad thing'. To stop it all sticking to itself while the sauce thickens, put about a dessert spoon of olive oil in there and stir it through. Sweet as.
Once the sauce has thickened up, either tip the pasta into the pan if there's room, or vice versa. Stir the lot together, and serve.
Piece of piss.
If you're game, you can even add a few pitted olives to the mix when you fry the bacon, and garnish with a little fresh basil.