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Jul 24, 2023

Annabel Langbein’s Father’s Day treats

Share this article Reminder, this is a Premium article and requires a subscription to read. Melting moments. Photo / Annabel Langbein Media My father was an avid gardener and his bountiful garden

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Melting moments. Photo / Annabel Langbein Media

My father was an avid gardener and his bountiful garden provided most of the fresh produce that went into our meals while we were growing up. During the week, Dad would come home from work, take off his suit and put on his gardening clothes, and head out to tend the garden. His carefully washed and trimmed harvests would be delivered in a box to the back door by the kitchen and, from these, our mother would construct her delicious meals.

Each autumn the Thompson and Morgan seed catalogue would arrive in the post from the UK, and through the winter Dad would pore over it and make his seed selections (unlike today, back then you could freely import seeds into New Zealand). The seeds would arrive before the spring - little packets of cabbages, leeks, onions, celery, carrots, beetroot, broad beans, dwarf beans, spinach, pumpkin, parsnip, cauliflower – all those typically British vegetables, which pretty much defined New Zealand cuisine in the 1960s.

In the summer Dad would grow tomatoes and cucumbers in a small greenhouse set against the north-facing garage. Back then most people had vegetable gardens, but no one grew garlic or broccoli or zucchinis - or even rocket. I don’t even remember peppers, eggplants or fresh chillies being available to buy. And as for artichokes, only the Italians were lucky enough to have these growing in their gardens.

Each year, come early spring, Dad would start preparing his summer garden. We would head out to the estuary at Pāuatahanui to collect sea grass, lugging it back in big sacks to the boot of his precious Plymouth and, once home, spread it out between the rows in the vegetable garden and around the tomatoes, runner beans and the fruit trees. Seed potatoes, purchased locally, were laid out to chit on trays in the garage, while inside the house, tray upon tray of vegetable and flower seeds would be set to germinate on top of the night-store heaters in the hall and the dining room. In the weekends, Dad would be out in the garden for 10-12 hours at a stretch, digging over the soil, and fertilising it from the arsenal of chemicals in his garage, laying out exact rows with stakes and twine, planting carrot, parsnip, onion and beetroot seeds directly into the ground, and pricking out the tiny seedlings from his seed trays incubating on the heater - brassicas, tomatoes, beans, lettuce and cucumber - into tiny peat pots to grow on until they were sturdy enough to be planted outside.

If I think about it, Dad must have spent 20-30 hours each week in the garden, but it was obvious that he loved it. The garden was his solace, and through his efforts he was able to provide a lot of our food as well as beautiful flowers for the house.

Often, when my father was working out in the garden we would take morning tea out to the garden to share. Tomorrow, in celebration of Father’s Day, I’m looking forward to making some baking and taking it out to the garden with a cuppa, and reminiscing with Ted about our fabulous fathers.

Take a trip down memory lane with these melt-in-your-mouth cookies with a tang of passionfruit. When passionfruit is in season I freeze the pulp in ice cube trays and then free-flow it into a clean plastic bag. Store-bought passionfruit pulp or syrup can be used with equal success.

Ready in 45 mins + cooling

Makes 15 double biscuits

180g butter, at room temperature

½ cup icing sugar, plus extra to dust

1 tsp vanilla extract

1¼ cups flour or gluten-free flour

½ cup custard powder

PASSIONFRUIT-HONEY BUTTERCREAM

150g butter, at room temperature

2 cups icing sugar, sifted

2 Tbsp passionfruit pulp or syrup

2 tsp runny honey

1 tsp vanilla extract

Passionfruit pulp or syrup, optional, to drizzle

Preheat oven to 150C fan bake and line an oven tray with baking paper.

Beat butter, sugar and vanilla until pale and creamy. Sift in flour and custard powder and mix to form a very soft dough – initially it will look crumbly but when you press it together it should form a soft, smooth dough. Roll dessertspoon-sized scoops of dough into small balls, arrange on prepared tray, and flatten gently with your palm and then with a fork. Bake until set and very lightly golden (about 25 minutes). Allow to cool on the tray for 5 minutes, then transfer to a rack to cool completely.

To make the buttercream, beat butter until light and fluffy. Add icing sugar, ½ cup at a time, beating between additions. Beat in milk and vanilla, adding a little extra milk if necessary until the desired consistency is achieved. Beat for 3-5 minutes for an extra light, fluffy icing.

When cookies are cold, spread 1 Tbsp buttercream on the flat side of half of them and sandwich another cookie on top of each. Drizzle a little passionfruit syrup or pulp over the icing, if desired. Store in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

Here’s one from my mother’s old recipe file, which my great-aunt Freda always made. Eating it always takes me back to my childhood. It’s a great recipe for kids to make as it is so quick easy to put together. If you prefer you can leave out the ginger and add extra raisins.

Ready in 35 mins

Makes 16-24 pieces

150g butter

¾ cup sugar

1 Tbsp golden syrup

1 egg, lightly beaten

1½ cups flour or gluten-free flour

1 cup sultanas or raisins

½ cup chopped glace ginger

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp ground ginger

½ tsp baking soda, crushed to remove any lumps

Preheat oven to 160C fan bake. Line a 30cm x 20cm slice tin with baking paper.=

Melt butter, sugar and golden syrup in a large pot over medium-low heat. Remove from heat and stir in egg, flour, sultanas, baking powder, ginger and baking soda.

Spoon into the prepared tin and flatten with the back of a spoon. Bake until set, golden and lightly puffed (about 25 minutes). Allow to cool in the tin then cut into pieces. Stored in an airtight container the chews will keep fresh for up to 2 weeks.

This classic French yoghurt cake is so easy to make because the ingredients are measured in the empty yoghurt pottle.

Ready in 1 hour

Makes 1 medium cake

150g pottle lemon yoghurt

1 pottle neutral oil, such as sunflower or grapeseed

2 pottles caster sugar

3 pottles plain flour

2 tsp baking powder

Zest of 1 lemon, finely grated

3 eggs

½ pottle icing sugar, for glaze

2 tsp lemon juice, for glaze

Preheat oven to 175C fan bake. Grease the sides of a 20cm-diameter springform cake tin and line the base with baking paper.

Combine all ingredients except icing sugar and lemon juice in a large bowl, scraping out the pottle with a spatula between ingredients. Stir with a fork until evenly combined. Transfer to prepared tin and bake until the top is golden and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean (about 40 minutes).

Allow to cool in the tin, then transfer to a serving plate. To make glaze, half-fill pottle with icing sugar, add lemon juice and stir until smooth. Drizzle over the cake and garnish with fresh seasonal berries.

TIP: This mixture also makes superb cupcakes – simply divide between 12 cupcake cases (about ¼ cup per cupcake) and bake at 175C for 20 minutes until golden and set.

by Yvonne Lorkin

(Aunty Freda’s fruity chews)

Sting Organic Active Mānuka Honey Mead 375ml ($50)

One flavour-pairing springs to mind whenever I think about these chewy, sugary, sultana-ry, gingery treats, and that’s honey. But the sippable, not the spreadable. This honey mead liqueur is created by fermenting wild mānuka honey made by bees buzzing around the Whenuatike Valley in the Coromandel, with spring water and spices. The result is a rich, luxuriously sweet, golden, nutty, caramelised taste sensation, with a warm, beautifully buzzy finish. Just a teensy splash with every bite of these chews is a total treat. Glengarrywines.co.nz

(Melting moments)

Aimery 1531 Cremant de Limoux Brut Methode Traditionnelle NV ($23)

Cremant is the name given to sparkling wine made outside of the Champagne region in France, and this gorgeous, creamy, deliciously lemony sparkler comes from the Limoux (lee-moo) area in the Languedoc-Roussillon (long-gah-doc roo-see-yon) region. It’s made from a blend of 65 per cent chardonnay, 25 per cent chenin blanc, and 10 per cent pinot noir and it wins awards around the world on a regular basis for its perfectly balanced stonefruity, nutty, yeasty, yexcellence (new word). It pairs perfectly with the passionfruity, custard powdery crumbliness of these melting moments, and if that’s not enough to convince you to enjoy bubbles with biscuits, then you’re beyond help. Blackmarket.co.nz

(One-two-three lemon cake)

Yeastie Boys Gunnamatta Earl Grey IPA 440ml 6.5% ($8.99)

Thirteen years ago, when thinking about brewing something for an Australian beer festival, the Yeasties were bored with the chocolate and coffee beer trend du jour and decided to put tea into the spotlight. Tea was their hot bev of choice, so they experimented with Earl Grey Blue Flower tea, resulting in a pungent citrus and floral-forward IPA with a lipsmackingly dry, quenching mouthfeel. They called it Gunnamatta after a beach break on Victoria’s Mornington Peninsula and it’s also a Paul Kelly song from Ways and Means. So if your dad likes a good tune, a good cuppa and a good surf, then treat him to a slice of luscious lemony cake and a cold can this weekend. Glengarrywines.co.nz

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