Little Blood Orange Cakes

I have rules when it comes to buying fruit.  Vegetables too, if it comes to that.  As much as possible I like to buy produce that is grown locally, and therefore in season, for a number of reasons.  Firstly, fruit and vegetables which have been harvested as close as possible to ripeness and which have traveled the shortest possible distance to get to your table tastes better.  It's a no-brainer really.  I mean, let's face it, you know that you feel like c**p after spending 14 hours on a long-haul flight to the other side of the world, so why for a moment would you think that something as delicate as a strawberry flown all the way from Chile in the middle of our winter is going to cope with long-haul air travel any better than you do?  Secondly, avoiding out of season produce imported from the other side of the world is one way of making a small difference to my carbon footprint.  Admittedly, however, I am not fanatical about this.  I do buy imported specialty goods from time to time - cheeses, olives and olive oils, for example - but I do try not to overdo it on the imports.  And, lastly, I like to give as much support as I possibly can to local producers.

So you won't find me buying peaches, strawberries or tomatoes in the middle of winter.  And you won't find me buying lemons in January.  In short, if something grows here in New Zealand I won't buy an out of season import.  I do, however, make an exception of buying imported fruit on rare occasions when it is fruit which doesn't grow here - pineapple, bananas, papaya, mango, for example - and even though I know that here, far from where they have grown, they are not truly at their best, there is nothing quite like indulging in some tropical fruit for the occasional special treat.

With that in mind, I was faced with a bit of a dilemna this week.  At I Heart Cooking Clubs, where we are cooking with Tessa Kiros, our theme for the week was "Fight Scurvy - Eat More Citrus" - a theme I normally would have been super-excited about, except that it's so definitely not citrus season here in New Zealand right now.  I definitely wasn't about to rush out and buy up bags of lemons or oranges imported from the US.  So, just as I was wondering if I might be able to adapt something to perhaps use some of my homemade marmalade, I came across bags of blood oranges on special at the supermarket.  Now blood oranges are one of my favourite fruits, and since we don't grow them here (as far as I know) I don't feel too bad about buying imported ones.

As I've done so often over the last few months, I turned to Tessa's book, Falling Cloudberries: A World of Family Recipes, which I think by now has actually become the most used cookbook in my collection.

From there it was a breeze to turn Tessa's Little Lemon Cakes into Little Blood Orange Cakes.

These little cakes are utterly, utterly delicious.  They are light, beautifully moist, and the delicate, slightly "perfumed" flavour of the blood orange makes them seem ever so slightly exotic.  These are pretty much perfect any time of day, but I think would be especially good for dessert on those occasions when you are looking for something that is not too rich or heavy.  A dollop of creme fraiche or Greek-style yoghurt would be a good addition on the side.

Tessa suggests making these in individual 3/4 cup ramekins, or a single 20cm (8 inch) cake tin.  I definitely wanted individual cakes here, but my ramekins weren't quite big enough - note to self, get some bigger ramekins.  As it turned out, Texas sized muffin tins worked perfectly.

Little Blood Orange Cakes

Adapted from recipe by Tessa Kiros

from "Falling Cloudberries: A World of Family Recipes"

Makes 4

Click here for a printable copy of this recipe

100g (3-1/2 oz) butter, room-temperature

100g (3-1/2 oz) caster sugar

1 large, free-range egg, separated

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

100g all purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 blood orange, grated zest and juice

60ml (1/4 cup) milk

For icing:

1-1/2 tablespoons blood orange juice

50g (1-3/4 oz) icing sugar

Preheat oven to 180 degrees C (350 degrees F).

Lightly grease and flour the base and sides of four 3/4 cup ramekins, or Texas muffin tins.

Cream the butter and sugar, until light and fluffy.  Add the egg yolk and vanilla, and beat well.

Add the sifted flour and baking powder, together with the grated zest of the blood orange.  Fold in with a metal spoon, just until combined.

Add the milk and blood orange juice, and stir well until fully incorporated.

Using clean beaters, beat the egg white in a small bowl until white and fluffy and holds soft peaks.  Add one large spoonful of the egg white to the cake mixture, and mix well to loosen the cake batter.  Add the rest of the egg white, and fold in gently using a large metal spoon.

Divide mixture evenly between ramekins or muffin moulds.  Put into the preheated oven and bake for about 30 minutes - until the cakes are golden, and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean.

Remove from oven and place ramekins or tin on a wire rack to cool completely.  Run a knife around the sides of the cakes to loosen and remove from their moulds.

Make the icing by whisking the icing sugar and blood orange juice together until smooth, adding more of either to achieve the consistency you want.  (I kept mine fairly runny as I wanted more of a glaze than a thick icing.)

Put the cooled cakes onto a plate, make a few holes in the top of each cake with a skewer, and dribble the icing over the top.  I topped mine off with a garnish of the Seville Orange Spoon Sweets I made a few months ago.

If you would like to get to know Tessa a little better, then do go and visit my friends at I Heart Cooking Clubs and see what they've all cooked up ...

... or check out Falling Cloudberries and many of Tessa's other great titles available from Amazon or Fishpond NZ.

         

I hope you'll give these wonderful little cakes a try - I'm sharing them this week at Cookbook Sundays, where my friends are delving into their cookbook collections and sharing some of their recipes.  Do stop by to see what they're cooking - you might even feel inspired to link up a recipe from one of your own cookbooks.

I am also sharing this post with Sweet New Zealand, a monthly blog event created by the very lovely Alessandra Zecchini, and which this month is hosted by the equally lovely and incredibly talented Emma at My Darling Lemon Thyme. This is an opportunity for all Kiwi bloggers (whether you are living in New Zealand or overseas), as well as for non-Kiwi bloggers living in New Zealand, to connect and share some of those sweet treats from your kitchen.  So, head on over to Emma's and share something sweet.

Mystery Photo - Random # 2

If you saw my post a bit over a week ago for Blood Orange and Black Olive Salad, then you will also have come across this "mystery food photo" that was in the same post ...

There were several guesses for olives, and one for immature red grapes, and although it does indeed look as though it could be either of those things, to my surprise no-one guessed that these are in fact pistachios.  Yes, surprised the heck out of me too.  Don't you think they look rather lovely, and apparently as they mature they turn almost completely red.  It was so exciting to me to see something that (to my knowledge at least) is not grown in this country, and which I only know from the harvested product we get at the supermarket.

So now another mystery food item, again photographed on my trip to Greece.  Can you see the bright green "pods" hanging in the tree in these two photos, and do you know what they are?

The answer will be posted next week.

I'm also submitting this post to the Two for Tuesdays blog hop.

A year ago:  Winter Vegetable Nonya Curry

Blood Orange & Black Olive Salad Recipe

I'm ashamed to say that it's been a long time since I contributed to the I Heart Cooking Clubs group;  nevertheless, some of you may recall that the group is cooking with Mark Bittman, and our theme this week is Raw Foods.  I'll be honest - when I read that my heart sank.  Now that doesn't mean I have anything against raw foods - quite the opposite in fact - but here in New Zealand, in the middle of winter, our thoughts turn more readily to soups and stews right now.  And, let's face it, a lot of what's seasonal here right now doesn't exactly lend itself to being served up "in the raw", so to speak.  Raw kumara (sweet potato) or pumpkin?  I don't think so!

What's more, this idea seemed to just compound the battle already raging within over my food choices right now.  As I mentioned last week, having just come back from a month in Greece, I find myself constantly longing for the food which reminds me of that time - which was of course beautiful, light, fresh summer food.

 The salad in this photo is one that I made while on Paros of fried eggplant, rocket, green olives, lemon zest and a local cheese called Mizithra

I just cannot get excited right now about root vegetables and casseroles, things that normally I really enjoy when the season comes around.  So I have been trying in my cooking lately, as much as possible, to give my wintery food a bit of a summery twist or "tweek" it in some way that is reminiscent of the food I ate in Greece.  I think I succeeded reasonably well with the Dried Fruit Compote I posted last week - a compote of dried peaches, apricots, figs, cherries and prunes - same fruit that I had eaten almost daily on Paros, just given a different treatment.  I think I also captured some of that feeling in a warm salad I made during the week of steamed beetroot and brown lentils - I got my Greek fix, by tossing everything in a very lemony vinaigrette (sweetened ever so slightly with a little honey and spiked with dried oregano), then adding black olives, chunks of feta, and some roasted hazelnuts.

So the challenge then for me - make something raw, using seasonal ingredients, and which would also transport me back to Greece for a few glorious moments.  This orange and black olive salad fits the bill perfectly for me, and even though Mark Bittman was actually inspired to make this dish after a visit to the south of France, I could easily be in Greece.  You see I chose to use blood oranges, instead of the naval oranges that were called for in the original recipe, and just the gorgeous rosy-orange colour of those on the plate with the pile of black olive paste reminds me immediately of this beautiful Paros sunrise.

Now, I know you are waiting for me to just get on with the recipe, but before I do here is a little mystery food item for you.  Do you know what this is in the photo below?  Post your answer in the comment section - sorry I don't have a prize for getting it right, and I imagine for some of you out there it's a complete "no-brainer", but it was something I had never seen before.  Clue - unsurprisingly, I took this photo during my holiday in Greece...

Keep watching this space for next week's mystery food item.  Now, on with the recipe.

Blood Orange & Black Olive Salad

Adapted from Mark Bitman's

"Zucca's Orange and Olive Salad"

Vegetarian, gluten-free

Click here for a printable copy

1 cup of Kalamata olives (or any black olives you prefer)

olive oil (quantity will vary with type of olives used)

1x blood orange per person

thyme

fennel seeds

Begin by removing the seeds from the olives - please do yourself a favour and avoid already pitted olives.  This is very easy to do - simply place the olive on a hard surface such as a plate or board;  press firmly with your thumb (or if your olives are harder you can use the bottom of a cup or glass);  the olive will easily split open;  remove the seed and discard.

Put the pitted olives now into your food processor with about a teaspoon of olive oil and pulse a couple of times to roughly chop the olives.  Add a little more olive oil and keep pulsing till you have the desired consistency - take care not to turn this into complete "mush";  you want to keep a bit of texture to the paste.

Now to the oranges.  Grate the zest of one orange and set aside.  Then remove all the skin (including the white pith) from the oranges, and slice into thickish rounds.  Hint, do this on a plate so that you can collect all the juices which will come out of the oranges.

To serve, arrange orange slices on a plate and top with a dollop of the olive paste.  Drizzle with your best olive oil and some of the reserved orange juice.  Sprinkle with a few thyme leaves and fennel seeds and a little of the reserved orange zest.

Then sit back, close your eyes, and enjoy your Paros sunrise on a plate!