Vegie Smugglers

Like nearly every other sheeple (sheep + people) in healthy-food-land, I’ve recently cut right down on the amount of sugar that I consume. The argument that sugar is an evil poison is extremely convincing and I find myself being swept along with public opinion.

Naturally though, my teeth are SWEET, so I’ve never felt the need to banish sugar from my life completely. I know myself well enough to know that it would be a futile exercise that would result in guilt and failure – two emotions that I just don’t need intertwined with my food experience. I love food, I love eating, I love cooking. And I love to cook for, feed and eat with the people I love.

So with that in mind, I keep the sugar debate in perspective. We don’t eat much processed food. We don’t drink soft drink or juice. Dessert is a rarity. Lollies are left for parties and most of the healthy treats I cook for the lunch boxes are fibre-rich with ingredients that nourish.

Which means on occasion, there’s room in our life for sugar. Not coconut sugar, or stevia or anything so fancy. Just sugar.

A couple of years ago, before the current sugar-fear exploded, the common food adage was, “Don’t eat anything your grandma wouldn’t recognise.” Luckily for me, my granny – like the rest of her generation – was extremely familiar with flour and sugar.

Unlike some foodie-types who claim to have grown up at their nanna’s apron strings, absorbing her food wisdom, my Granny was a pretty average cook. In fact it was a chore that she didn’t particularly like at all, which explains why good old fashioned crumble was on the menu so often. It’s a dessert that gives you a heap of bang for your buck. Just some chopping then a bit of massaging some ingredients together, into the oven and VOILA, the most gorgeous treat appears. And did I mention that it’s absolutely delicious, especially on a cold night, when eaten around a table with the rest of your family? It is. Try it.

My granny ate this type of dish often, and she lived to a happy and sprightly 94.

1 1/2 cups oats
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup plain flour
1/2 tsp cinnamon
100g butter, softened

3 granny smith apples
2 cups frozen berries
1/4 cup raw sugar

Preheat the oven to 180C.

Combine the oats, sugar, flour and cinnamon in a large mixing bowl. Rub the butter in with your fingers so that you have the consistency of rough breadcrumbs (you don’t have to be too exact here – a bit of lumpy butter works out just fine). Set aside.

Core and chop the apples. Toss into a medium sized oven dish (I use my 24cm round glass dish). Mix in the berries and scatter the sugar over the top.

Scatter the crumble mix over the top – leave it pretty loose – no need to pack it down neatly. Pop into the oven for 55 minutes until golden and bubbling.

Serves 2 adults and 4 kids.

In recent weeks the kids have become obsessed with watching me put on make up.

Every morning when I’m getting ready for work, I seem to end up with a companion. Someone will happen to need to brush their teeth at just the moment I start to slather on cosmetics. They pretend they’re concentrating on their own task, but standing beside me I can see their eyes tracking me in the mirror.

As I grab a new tube or pencil, toothpaste starts frothing everywhere and they’ll spout, “what’s that for?” Or “What do you call that?”

I explain concealer. “This makes mummy look less tired.”
I explain eyeliner. “This makes mummy’s eyes look nicer.”

Even as the words roll out I’m aware of how weird they sound. And how strange the whole idea of make up is. How trivial.

The kids just look at me quizzically. Bewildered that a mummy would even have ‘looks’ or should care about them. I’m just their mum, after all. I look pretty much the same to them every day.

The toothbrushing facade gets totally forgotten as they just stand and gape. After my entire routine is done (it takes about 2 minutes), I’ll say, “do I look better now?”

They shrug in that we-don’t-get-it way. If my companion is Mr M&P, he’ll eventually pipe up, ‘Yep’. Ever the charmer, he knows that it’s always worth complimenting effort, even if he doesn’t quite understand it.

Like make up, pastry will tart up nearly anything.

Old fruit tart

Use up excess stone fruit with these tarts.

2 sheets puff pastry
3-4 nectarines, peaches, apricots (or a combination)
1 tbsp maple syrup or honey
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp almond meal
1 tbsp caster sugar
1 egg, lightly whisked, for sticking & glazing

Ice cream (to serve)

Preheat the oven to 180C. Line an oven tray with baking paper.

Separate the frozen pastry sheets off the block. Score one into quarters and snap it apart. Leave to thaw while you chop the nectarines (chunks or pretty slices are all fine). Toss them with the maple syrup and lemon juice.

Brush the pastry quarters with egg, sprinkle the almond meal and sugar over the centre (leave a 1cm border).

Slice 1cm strips from your spare sheet and layer them around the edges of your squares. Brush with more egg.

Divide the fruit between the squares, reserving the liquid. Scatter a little more caster sugar or raw sugar over the entire tart and bake for 20 minutes until golden.

Serve with icecream and the reserved juices drizzled over the top.

MAKES 4