Cape Town - As I count down to the last of these columns, I’d like to walk through some of the ingredients and dishes I love the most, or the things about food that either inspire me or get my blood boiling.
Either of those responses is valid. In my rather maverick book, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of invective, or with letting off steam even if it does offend some people. Being offended has never killed anyone and you and I know there are people out there who just love being offended. The least one can do is supply them with plenty of ammunition.
You know who I mean (not you I hope). The holier than thou and don’t they know it. The expert in his field who would rather not hear other opinions. The historically learned who will not entertain the possibility that even they might sometimes be wrong or that others may have better knowledge.
Oh yes, and the hardnosed vegetarian. I mean the vegetarian for whom their chosen diet is as much of a religion – a cause – as the tome of choice is for the devout fundamentalist of whichever religion.
Not Ann who eats no red meat, but happily cooks hearty red meat dishes for her strapping sons and husband and doesn’t screw up her nose.
Not Phil who can give you the sternest lecture from a seemingly lofty height about the errors of your meat-eating ways, then break into into fits of laughter having enjoyed winding you up. Not Helen who has the best way with words yet never uses them to defend her choice not to eat meat, or attack your choice to do so, and will cook you a fleshy meal when she invites you round for dinner. Not Marianne who I always saw as the ultimate diehard vegetarian yet who I discovered recently has been eating meat for years. Who knew?
My mom always said, “I’m not a meat eater” as if somehow she couldn’t bring herself to call herself a vegetarian.
I suppose she came from an age or a Yorkshire community in which there just weren’t any. Have you ever heard of a Yorkshire vegetarian? It’s the sort of thing that would get you a frown and a raised eyebrow as if you’d admitted to being a serial killer. ‘You’re a what? Give over!” And then give you a clip around the earhole which - if you don’t know - is a northern English expression for something not unlike what we might call a running snotklap.
This week’s favourite ingredients, perhaps surprisingly, are a pair of vegetables. Contrary to popular belief, I am very much in favour of vegetables, convinced as I am that if I did not eat them I would die, or an arm would fall off, or my hair would fall out, which is even worse. I adore vegetables, though like anyone I have my favourites.
And way up on my list of favourite legumes is the humble, sometimes ignored and often misunderstood courgette. The baby marrow. Zucchini. And the humble gem squash. Or “gourd” as the English call it before frowning, wondering what you do with it, and buying some turnips.
Which is a pity, because there’s someone of the maverick about a gem squash and a courgette. That very thing that brings on a frown in somebody who has occasionally seen them at the supermarket and wondered how you cook them, is the thing that makes them intriguing.
A gem squash is a splendid thing, as any South African worthy of the name would attest. It does have a super-subtle flavour, yes, but that is the thing.
That very gentleness on the palate is what makes a gem squash a canvas for the cook. It takes on gentle flavour and can be toyed with as an artist would with canvass and palette splashed with colours.
You can steam or boil them (steaming is best as boiling removes nutrients and a little of the flavour, and prevents them soaking up too much water) and then leave them to drain in a colander or fine sieve.
They hold a lot of water so this is important. Once drained, it’s a good idea to return them to a pot and gentle simmer away the remaining water. Stir while doing so to prevent sticking.
Once you have your pure gem squash, you can have fun. Pour a little olive oil in a pan, add a whole star anise and three or four whole cardamom pods, infuse into the oil for a minute or two, and then add the cooked gem squash and stir to combine, salting subtly and adding a grinding of pepper.
Or melt a little butter (or canola margarine) and add a clove of finely chopped garlic and a sprig of rosemary. Stir this through the cooked squash and season. Thyme is great too, and spices such as ground ginger, ground cumin or ground coriander can play a role in adding a little zing, but always season subtly with gem squash as it is easily overpowered.
My favourite way, as longtime readers may remember, is to retain a half shell per serving and, once you’ve cooked the squash with garlic as above, fill the half cases and grate cheese on top, whether cheddar, gruyere or gouda or grated Parmigiano Reggiano, and finish under the grill in the oven.
As for courgettes, wash them, slice into thin rounds, and cook them in heated butter or olive oil with finely chopped garlic and a herb, on a moderately hot stove while stirring frequently. You have to stay with it until they’re cooked otherwise they will burn. A little seasoning and they’re good to go. As am I.
Tony Jackman, Weekend Argus