Vegetables Archives - Page 2 of 2

Butternut Squash in Coconut Milk

February 1, 2009 2 Comments

Are you ever shopping and see something you think you need only to find when you get home that you already have, say, five of those already? No? Well, you’re smarter than me then.

A couple of months ago I saw coconut milk on sale, so I picked up a few cans. I like my curries and Thai Seafood Chowder and this great peanut sauce (which I should do a blog entry on; note to self) and so coconut milk is a good staple for me to have around. Unfortunately, I got home to find that I already had about four cans of it in the cupboard. Huh. Now I had eight cans.

On the upside, it means that I have the goods on hand when I see recipes like this one and want to give it a shot.

I’ve been on a butternut squash kick lately. Having never really eating squash for most of my life, I’ve found myself embracing it. It began with an acorn squash I randomly bought a few months ago. (It was so cute, and then it dawned on me that I’d actually have to do something with it.) I simply roasted it and then had it with a roasted chicken breast. Simple perfection. And there are apparently a lot of things you can do with squash. So goes my continuing education.

I liked the idea of this recipe. Soft, comforting squash with the exoticism of Thai flavours. And it was good, but if I can make one recommendation, I would suggest using this as a side dish. I’m sure this is the original intent of the recipe, but I made it on a whim and helped myself to a big bowlful. It was a bit rich to just eat on its own.

(I also should have reduced the sauce a bit more. Next time.)

This recipe comes from Closet Cooking, but has, as usual, been slightly adapted.

Butternut Squash in Coconut Milk

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 teaspoon garlic, minced
1 teaspoon ginger, grated
2 cups butternut squash, peeled and cut into 1″ cubes)
1/2 cup coconut milk
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1/2 teaspoon chili sauce (such as sambal olek)

Heat oil in a pan. Add garlic and ginger and saute for about a minute until fragrant. Add chili sauce and saute for another 30 seconds, then add coconut milk, sugar, lime juice, fish sauce and squash. Cover and simmer until squash is tender, about 30 minutes. Remove squash and let coconut milk mixture continue to cook until it is reduced. Pour over cooked squash.

Dinner, Vegetables

Roasted Tomato Soup

November 20, 2008 9 Comments

Sometimes, my apartment is the place where tomatoes go to die. I buy them, forget about them, and the slowly grow old, wrinkling away in their clamshell package until I’m utterly baffled about what I can do with them.

And then I had a brainwave (triggered in no small part by a recipe I saw over at 101 Cookbooks and then combined with an article from one issue out of my random collection of Cook’s Illustrated): why not roast them and make them into a soup? Then it doesn’t matter if they’re wrinkled. Or if they are wintry supermarket tomatoes that have virtually no flavour. Roasting will take care of both problems, especially the lack of flavour aspect as their summery, tomato flavour will intensify in the oven. Throw a couple of garlic cloves in with the tomatoes while they roast and add a hint of buttery, roasted garlic flavour to the soup.

The first time I made this, there was a tomato emergency. The collection I had was rapidly going south and was going to have to be tossed soon if I didn’t figure out something to do with them. Of course, since I was just playing around in the kitchen, I didn’t bother documenting the process.

The soup was full of flavour and velvety smooth. It was definitely a keeper.

The second time I made the soup, it was almost as good, but I’m going to suggest not using as much stock as I did this round. The first soup, which only had about two cups of stock, had a much more intense tomato flavour, which is what made the soup so great. The second one, I used three cups of stock. The tomato flavour was duller and I won’t be doing that again.

Roasted Tomato Soup

Six or seven tomatoes, cut in half or quarters depending on their size
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
one onion, diced
four cloves garlic, unpeeled
1/4 cup brandy, optional
1 tablespoon sugar
2 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1/4 cup cream, milk or half-and-half
Salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 375. Cut tomatoes in halves or quarters, depending on their size, and lay cut side up in a roasting pan. Throw in unpeeled garlic cloves amongst the tomatoes. Drizzle everything with one tablespoon of olive oil and sprinkle with kosher or sea salt and fresh ground pepper. Roast for 30 to 45 minutes until the tomatoes and garlic have started to caramelize.

Heat the remaining tablespoon of olive oil in a saucepan on medium heat, then add the diced onion and saute until transluscent — about four or five minutes. Add brandy, if using, and cook for another minute or two. Add sugar, then stock. Bring to low boil.

Remove paper skins from garlic, then add the tomatoes and garlic into the pot with the stock. Let cook for a few minutes. Pour everything into blender and whiz until velvety smooth. Add cream or milk and whiz for another minute. Taste for seasonings. (Since there is salt on the tomatoes and in the stock, I advise waiting until the end before seasoning because you may not need to add anything.)

Dinner, Vegetables

Risotto with Roasted Butternut Squash

October 29, 2008 8 Comments

Last week I worked a couple of night shifts.

I used to have a position where I worked nights for a month at a time, every three months. That was too much for me. Over the course of the weeks, I’d start to feel more and more ghost-like, spending my days alone and my nights with only a handful of colleagues; the final hour I was pretty much alone and I would slink out into the dark night, drive home and stay awake until three in the morning before finally crawling into bed.

But I don’t mind the odd night shift, actually. Sleeping in? A sunny day to one’s self? A few hours to bake and cook and photograph and eat? Sounds good to me. (Especially in these days of waning winter light, when full sun has been minimized to just a few short hours in the early afternoon.)

Plus, who doesn’t love the idea of waking up and having Risotto with Roasted Butternut Squash for breakfast?

That morning, searching around for something to eat, I realized I had better use up some butternut squash that was otherwise going to have to be imminently pitched. Roasting it was the only reasonable answer. And, as I dumped the cubes into a roasting dish and drizzled it with olive oil and sprinkled on salt and pepper, I remembered a Barefoot Contessa recipe for a risotto with roasted squash.

In pulling out my recipe book, however, I realized I was missing some key ingredients, including shallots and pancetta. I’m sure these things make her version even better, but this bastardized version made me swoon when I sat down less than an hour later with a big bowlful and the contented feeling that comes from hot food and knowing work is still hours away.

Luckily, I did have a small box of saffron — another of my myriad food impulse purchases that had not been cracked open. Saffron, those delicate threads, so scarlet, so fragile. I remember growing up, seeing the same type of small, clear plastic box in my mum’s cupboards. But I have no recollection of her ever using it. The red threads impart a lovely orange-yellow colour to the risotto and also their own flavour, which I can’t really attempt to explain. Still, while I made this with saffron, if you don’t have it, I wouldn’t panic.

This made enough to feed two adults generously, likely four as a side dish. Or, one of me over the course of several meals.

Risotto with Roasted Butternut Squash

1 small butternut squash (1 pound)
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
salt and pepper
1/2 onion, diced
3/4 cup arborio rice
pinch saffron (optional)
1/2 cup white wine
3 cups chicken stock
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan

Preheat oven to 400. Peel the butternut squash, halve it and remove seeds. Cut into 3/4″ cubes. Place squash in roasting dish or on sheet pan, toss with olive oil, 1 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Roast until tender and golden in spots, about 25 minutes. Toss once to ensure even roasting.Meanwhile, heat the chicken stock in a small covered saucepan. Leave it on low heat to simmer.

In saucepan, heat 1 tablespoon olive oil, add diced onion and saute until translucent. Put chicken stock in microwave safe bowl or measuring cup and heat. (Time will vary on the microwave; start with two minutes. This can also be done by warming the stock on the stove, but I find the microwave system saves me another pot to wash. If the stock cools too much, just microwave it again.)

Add rice to onion and oil mixture and stir until the grains are coated. Add the wine and let it reduce slightly. Add one cup of stock, along with the saffron, if using. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until the stock is absorbed — about five to 10 minutes. When the stock is almost gone, add the next cup. Repeat with the last cup of stock. When the liquid is all absorbed, remove pot from heat, stir in butter and cheese. Toss in roasted squash. Add salt and fresh pepper to taste.

Dinner, Vegetables

Butternut Squash and Caramelized Onion Pastries

October 13, 2008 5 Comments

I was first intrigued by this combination when I saw a posting about butternut squash and caramelized onion in a galette that referred me back to Smitten Kitchen. I printed it out and was ready to go until I looked over the instructions for the galette’s pastry and got a bit confused. I’m not going to lie, pastry intimidates me to begin with, so I just wasn’t sure I would be able to pull this recipe off. But I had bought the butternut squash already and had some fontina that was quickly going south. And, oh, what’s this, a package of puff pastry in the freezer that’s not getting any younger too….

Could I overcome my fears after the puff pastry disaster?

So, I hauled out the puff pastry and let it defrost overnight in the fridge. There’s only one way to overcome such fears — confronting them.

In the end, this was relatively easy to assemble. I peeled and cut up the squash, tossed with it some olive oil, salt and pepper and threw it in the oven while I puttered around tidying up, checking email, playing a few scrabble moves on Facebook. Later, I caramelized the onions, grated the cheese and then rolled out the puff pastry. I didn’t quite think that step through, and cut the puff pastry dough along the diagonal line, leaving me with triangles to roll out. I ended up with these totally nonsensical shapes, but luckily I was able to fold them into little packages nonetheless.

All assembled, I brushed the parcels with whipping cream (because I had some and I had to use it up) and sprinkled with Himalayan pink salt. (I am the worst impulse shopper. What compelled me to buy pink salt? Sigh.)

These were fantastic, but now I’m going to try the combination over pasta.

Butternut Squash and Caramelized Onion Pastries

1 small butternut squash, about one pound
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 large red onion, halved in thinly sliced
1 teaspoon salt
pepper
pinch sugar
3/4 cup fontina cheese, grated (I’d be tempted to try this with other cheeses too)
1 package frozen puff pastry, defrosted overnight in the fridge
milk or cream

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Peel the squash, halve, scoop out seeds and dice into 1/2″ squares. Toss with olive oil, salt and pepper in a baking dish, then roast for about 30 minutes until it is starting to get golden and soft. Let cool.

Melt butter in a pan, add onion, sugar and salt and cook over low heat, stirring occassionally, until the onions are golden. Let cool.

Divide the puff pastry in four and roll out on lightly floured surface. Add one-quarter of the cheese in the centre of the pastry, then top with about a half-cup of the squash and one-quarter of the onions. Fold one side over the mound of cheese and vegetables and then the other, tucking the edge of the pastry under the parcel. Repeat with the other two sides, so you end up with a rectangle. (Or, frankly, close up the parcels however you like.)

Put the parcels on a baking sheet and brush the four parcels with milk or cream. Bake at 350 until golden — about 20 to 25 minutes.

Salads, Vegetables

Heirloom Tomatoes with Balsamic Reduction

September 1, 2008 4 Comments

I have virtually given up on tomatoes. The ones from the supermarket are bland, flavourless faux tomatoes and are hardly worth buying. Grape tomatoes are about the only ones I bother buying any more because they still seem to have some tomato-y taste.

As a kid, summers were spent with my grandparents on one of the Gulf Islands. They grew their own tomatoes and I would eat them off the vine, warm from the sun and bursting with that summery taste. I loved too the green, fresh smell that came when I brushed up against the dark green plants. Years later I bought a perfume from Demeter called Tomato that has somehow recreated that smell of the tomato vines. When I put it on, I’m transported back to my grandfather’s garden with its tall chicken-wire walls to keep the deer out.

So, when I saw a package of Heirloom Tomatoes at the farmer’s market recently, I ignored the price tag and put them in my basket. It was an odd little collection of cherry tomatoes, green tomatoes, some purplish ones and pear-shaped ones.

When I got home, I started eating them right out of the cellophane package, some straight up, others split in half and sprinkled with a bit of sea salt.

Most tasted like tomatoes, with the exception of the Green Zebra.

While I could have eaten them all just standing at the kitchen counter, I decided to make a very basic salad with just tomatoes, extra virgin olive oil and some reduced Balsamic vinegar.

I know I have already mentioned my love of all things vinegar, but reducing Balsamic gives it a sweeter, more syrupy consistency. Which makes it great for this type of salad because then you don’t need to make a full vinaigrette. It’s also great on sliced strawberries or on tomato tarts, among other things.

Making a Balsamic Reduction is super simple. Just pour a cup of the vinegar in a saucepan, put it on medium-high heat and let it reduce until it is thick and coats the back of a spoon. Some recipes suggest adding some sugar, but I have always liked my dressings tarter than not, so I don’t bother.

Drizzle over cut tomatoes and then add a bit of olive oil.

This would also be great on a more traditional Caprese salad with tomatoes, fresh mozzarella and basil.

Vegetables

Beans with Caramelized Onions

August 26, 2008 1 Comment

I have certain web surfing rituals.

Each morning, if I have time, I quickly check The Morning News for its quirky collection of news from various US newspapers. On Sundays, I visit the New York Times and read the Modern Love column and the Ethicist. (Okay, yes, I read the Vows section too; it’s a bit of a secret shame really. But I do love reading how these people met and how their lives have come to be intertwined. And, uh, I judge the dresses.)

And on Wednesdays, I check in with the New York Times Dining & Wine section where I read through great stories, get inspired by recipes and print out my fair share to try at home.

But, of all the recipes I have printed from there in the last year, very few have actually been translated into food on the table.

That is until I read a recent article about green beans (which I love) that I knew I had to try immediately. And, what serendipity! I already had a nice package of green beans from the Farmer’s Market sitting in my fridge. Must have been food fate.

I am now in love with this recipe. The softened tomatoes, the beans and the sweet onions with the tang of herbs….

Of course, I had to make a few changes. The recipe suggests adding water when the liquid evaporates. Um, no. I’ll add some more wine, thanks. Oh, and I don’t let all of that delicious liquid evaporate away. Leave some and then use a chunk of baguette to sop it up from your plate.

This is adapted from Melissa Clark’s A Good Appetite column at the New York Times. (Her original recipe is Grilled Sausages and Summer Beans with Herbs, Tomatoes and Caramelized Onions, but I only did the beans part of it and, therefore, have only included the beans aspect of the recipe. Also, instead of copying out her recipe word for word, I’ve written it including the changes I made.)

Beans with Caramelized Onions

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 large red onion, thinly sliced
4 fresh thyme sprigs
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pinch of sugar
1 cup halved cherry tomatoes
1 pound green beans
1/4 cup white wine (but, as indicated above, I kept using it for adding more liquid. So, likely more like a cup of white wine, unless you want to use water.)
1/2 cup chopped mixed fresh herbs, including basil and parsley

Heat oil in a large skillet until shimmering. Add onion, thyme and a pinch of salt, pepper and sugar. Saute over medium-high heat until onions are golden in spots and browned around the edges, about seven minutes.

Add the cherry tomatoes and cook until they start to release their juices, about two minutes. Add the beans and wine and toss everything. Cover, reduce heat to medium-low and cook three minutes. Uncover pan, add herbs and continue to cook. Toss beans occasionally, until there is only a bit of liquid left and beans are cooked to taste — five to 30 minutes depending on if you want them tender crispy or a little more cooked. Add more wine to the pan if it gets too dry. (You can also use water, if you’d like.)

Consider serving with chunks of fresh bread for mopping up the wine/bean/tomato juices.

Salads, Vegetables

Fresh Corn Salad

August 4, 2008 4 Comments

A group of friends and I were talking about things we like to make for dinner a couple of weeks ago, when one mentioned her relatively recently acquired love of all things barbecue. And that, inevitably, led to a discussion about side dishes.

There has been a lot of recipes lately for grilled corn, which sounds delicious (especially when there is also talk about chili-lime butter to spread on after), but I am a sad city dweller with no patio/balcony/deck and, subsequently, no hibachi/grill/barbecue. But that doesn’t mean that I miss out when corn is in season.

Every summer I make a few rounds of Fresh Corn Salad, when corn on the cob is ripe and basil is plentiful at the Farmer’s Market. There are only seven ingredients in this salad, and that includes the dressing.

This is really easy to throw together and well worth the effort. (Okay, maybe the actual cutting-the-corn-off-the-cob is a bit messy.) (I recently saw this gadget that strips the kernels from the cob and while I love all things gadgety, even I feel that’s a bit much.)

I did initially have a tough time finding cider vinegar, but then found some at my local Safeway (along with another much-loved Barefoot Contessa ingredient: champagne vinegar. Um, actually, I just looked and mine is “champagne style.” What can I say? I’m a champagne girl on a “champagne-style” budget.) They come in pretty small bottles, but I don’t use cider vinegar all that often, so it works out.

This recipe is from The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook.

Fresh Corn Salad

5 ears corn, shucked
1/2 cup small-diced red onion (1 small onion)
3 tbsp. cider vinegar
3 tbsp. good olive oil
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup chiffonade fresh basil leaves

In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook the corn for 3 minutes until the starchiness is just gone. Drain and immerse it in ice water to stop the cooking and set the colour. When the corn is cool, cut the kernels off the cob, cutting close to the cob.

Toss the kernels in a large bowl with the red onions, vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper. Just before serving, toss in the fresh basil. Taste for seasonings and serve cold or at room temperature.

Dinner, Pasta, Vegetables

Mustard-butter Broccoli Pasta

July 9, 2008 30 Comments

I have very particular feelings about condiments. These may verge a bit on condiment OCD.

Growing up, I refused to eat — in no particular order — mayo, mustard, relish, chutney. And mushrooms. Not a condiment, I know, but it was something I refused to eat. My burgers were dry except for ketchup and that was just fine with me. Except, oddly, McDonald’s hamburgers with their thin scraping of yellow mustard. Somehow that was OK with me.

Nowadays, things have relaxed slightly. I still ask for no mayo, if it’s just straight-up, out-of-the-jar, spread. Bring on the pesto, lemon, dill, herb, curry variations. I won’t go out of my way to add relish or mustard, but I enjoy them on my burger. (Oh god, when I decided to finally try a White Spot burger — the real ones from B.C., not these faux Alberta versions —and had the Triple O sauce? Damn, that is good condiment.)

(Ketchup is good, but belongs only on fries, hot dogs, hamburgers and sausages. That is all.)

And the turning point may have been Mustard-butter Broccoli Pasta.

Until I had this, I was certain I didn’t like Dijon mustard. I was wrong. Oh, so, very wrong.

This is a wonderful summer pasta, partly because of the bright colour and fresh taste, but also because it requires but one pot. And, if you’re quick on the ball and plan ahead, you can use the summer heat to soften butter, which is one of the “sauce” ingredients. Of course, if you’re a bit forgetful (like me), there is always the microwave. That said, softening the butter naturally is much tastier. (Full disclosure: I have used Becel to make this and it’s still good.)

My Mum first made this many, many years ago, then photocopied it for me while I lived for a summer in Kitimat with her own notes neatly written out in red pen. And this recipe has become one of those comfort ones that has followed me as I lived in teeny-tiny towns across B.C., slogging my way through jobs at teeny-tiny newspapers, and over to Japan where I lived for a year. Sure, finding Dijon was tricky, but it was doable. And, more importantly, it was worth it.

I like to use penne with this because then it’s super easy to eat, plus the penne rigate’s ridges pick up more sauce. Of course, the big carriers are the broccoli spears; they become sponges for the mustard-butter sauce. And, frankly, I’ll use whatever pasta I have on hand. Case in point: tonight’s dinner was farfalle.

I’ve made some changes from the original recipe, so this is the version as I make it.

Mustard-butter Broccoli Pasta

1/2 cup butter
4 tbsp. Dijon mustard (I use generic — gasp! — Safeway brand. I like it better than Grey Poupon.)
2 cloves garlic, finely minced (I use my lovely, lovely rasp.)
Salt and pepper
Herbs (chives, parsley or green onion tops), about 4 tbsp. total (And if I don’t have them, I don’t worry about it.)
2 or 3 cups broccoli florets, from two crowns
3/4 pound pasta

Let the butter soften, then mix in the mustard, herbs and pepper. Check for seasonings before adding more salt. Set a huge pot of water on the stove to boil. When it comes to a rolling boil, season liberally with salt, then add the pasta. Cut the broccoli florets off the stem and set aside. When the pasta is about two or three minutes from being cooked to al dente, throw in the broccoli and stir to let it cook with the pasta. Drain when the pasta is tender and the broccoli is still green. Throw back into the pot and stir in the mustard-butter mixture. The heat from the cooked pasta and broccoli will melt the butter mixture. Check for seasonings and serve.

Note: I usually hold back some of the mustard-butter. Often you won’t need all of it. But when I put away the leftovers in containers, I spoon a bit of the mixture on top. That way, when you reheat it the next day (or whenever) in the microwave, it’s still a bit saucy.

Vegetables

Green Beans with Garlic

June 4, 2008 5 Comments

What is it about other people’s versions of the same recipe that inevitably turn out better than yours? I call it Other People’s Salad Syndrome, or Salad Syndrome, for short. I can put the same baby lettuce, grape tomatoes and grated carrot in a bowl, make a basic vinaigrette and it will be fine. My Mum will make it or a friend will whip one together and it will still taste better than one I’ve made.

When I was back in Vancouver a few weeks ago, my Mum made a dinner that included Green Beans with Garlic. In a nutshell, it’s steamed green beans, doused with olive oil that has had chunks of garlic cooked in it, then sprinkled with salt and pepper. We’ve had this many times over the years, and I’m sure I remember a few versions that had long strips of sweet red pepper for colour and flavour contrast.

Still craving another hit of that garlicky, summery taste, I picked up a huge bag of green beans earlier this week. Then, this morning as I was procrastinating (surely, this is one of the top reasons I bake and cook), I thought it would be the perfect time to cook up some beans.

I had double checked the “recipe” with my Mum the night before. (“So, it’s just beans and garlic in oil and salt and pepper, right?” I messaged her in the middle of our online Scrabble game. “Yup.” Alrighty, then.) So, I was good to go.

Oh, except for the fact that for some unknown, unexplained and super annoying reason, the water to my apartment was cut off for several hours today. But, never one to shy away from a challenge, I proceeded anyway. (I can be particularly stubborn and, subsequently, pretty creative.) I had just enough water in my Brita to make three cups of rice (for the other part of my lunch) and to steam the green beans. Thank god I refilled that thing.

Owing to my overwhelming supply of shallots, I thought I’d adjust the recipe slightly and slice up one of those and add it at the last minute to the olive oil. I really liked this touch, as the shallot was a sweet addition, and will do it again in the future. But if you don’t have any lying around, I wouldn’t worry about it.

The idea here is to cook the garlic until it’s tender and has lost its bite in favour of a slightly nutty taste sort of akin to roasted garlic. If the oil’s temperature is too high, the garlic could burn and it will taste very acrid. The key is to watch the amount of bubbling after throwing in the garlic. I also occasionally lift the pot off and swirl the oil around to keep the garlic moving. If you’re going to add some shallot, add it towards the end because it will cook more quickly than the thick-cut garlic.

Anyway, I steamed the beans, cooked the garlic in the oil, added the (what I believe to be) inspired choice of a shallot, tossed it all together with some salt and pepper and sat down to enjoy lunch.

And was disappointed.

It’s not that it wasn’t good. Mmmmm garlic. Mmmmmm slightly sweetened shallot. Mmmmm grean beans. And yet, it still wasn’t as tasty as the version I had just two weeks earlier.

I’m blaming it on Salad Syndrome.

But I’m going to keep working on it because this summery, salad-ish recipe is too good to give up on.

For this recipe, I use Maldon flaked salt. I like the slight crunch of the crystals and that it’s not an overpoweringly salty taste.

Green Beans with Garlic

1 pound green beans
1/2 cup olive oil, extra virgin preferable for it’s more intense flavour
4 cloves garlic, sliced thickly
1 or 2 shallots, sliced thickly in rings and then separated
salt
pepper

Steam the green beans. (I do it on the stove using a steamer, but only because I’m not sure how to do it in the microwave.) When they are still slightly crisp (I think the technical term is “tender crisp”) and bright green, throw them in a bowl of ice cold water to shock them — stop the cooking process and keep them a nice colour. Strain and throw in a bowl. While the beans are steaming, set a small pot with the olive oil onto a burner set to medium heat. Add the garlic and cook until slightly golden. Toss over beans and then add salt and pepper to taste.

P.S. When all the beans are eaten and there is still all that lovely, garlicky oil left over, it’s pretty delicious with chunks of french bread.

P.P.S. Hmmmm. Having just had another round of beans that have been sitting out since I made them (about two hours ago) and are now about room temperature, I’d say they are even better this way. Maybe *that’s* the trick. When my Mum made them, my sister and I kept picking away at them while the rest of dinner cooked, so they probably were more at room temperature by the time we all sat down.

So, you may want to make them slightly ahead of time and let them cool before enjoying.

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