Help! Can't cook,won't cook

I must apologise for my continued absence from the blogosphere. The reason is I am now 5 months pregnant and my pregnancy has unexpectedly, drastically and alarmingly, changed my previously happy relationship with food.
On the plus side, the fact that I was able to become pregnant could be attributed to a particularly joyous food holiday in Singapore (see article below) - my well-researched friend R tells me studies have shown a baby comes in a time of plenty, and, suggests R, it's possible the 3 gazillion calories per day I consumed while on Foodtour Singapore contributed to my suddenly heightened fertility. Whatever the reason, B and I feel blessed to have our own little one on the way... which is fortunate, because now our relationship is being rather strongly tested.
The first trimester was a hellish time which I had not at all anticipated and turned me into a particularly grumpy person. I had morning sickness, that is, morning, noon and early evening sickness to be precise. The cure for which was to eat - not dry biscuits, or gherkins, like the cute smock-wearing mumsy women you see in films - but real, hearty, hot food, mini-meals - and constantly. On a good day, I'd have one mini-meal per hour, on a bad day I'd have to eat every 10 minutes, or the nausea would come flooding back. By midday each day I'd have a thought, so alien to me that it made me re-think the whole pregnancy thing - 'I don't like eating anymore. I hate it!' What had I become?
Second trimester has thankfully eased up the morning sickness, but I have now developed aversions to a very bizarre list of foods that I previously loved - like vegetables, all vegetables, most particularly my previous favourite, the cancer-fighting king of all greens, broccoli. The implications this has for the development of the little one are alarming to both B and I, so in an effort to make up for all the lost nutrients and fibre from this bizarre shunning of vegetables, I am now eating 4-6 pieces of fruit a day, which I am now also growing to hate.
Perhaps the most unexpected problem, however, is completely losing the desire to cook, therefore the ability. Until now I had never realised how important cooking was in my life - providing sustenance for B and I, romancing B or cheering him after a hard day at work, relaxing over a cookbook or three in bed at night, the joy of planning meals to entertain friends, experimenting with a recipe on a Saturday morning, figuring out how best to cook that weird oversized purple potato I'd paid a fortune for at the farmer's market, spending hours making an elaborate recipe (which rarely worked) to impress a foodie pal, coming up with acceptable dishes for my friend's fussy toddler... you get the idea, cooking was a big, big part of my life.
My hobby, my main form of relaxation has been taken away from me - and not just from me but from B, who is as perplexed, frustrated and disturbed by this cruel twist of fate as I am. Perhaps more. In the early days of our courtship, after I'd cooked him elaborate meal after meal, and discovered he shared my love of food and cooking (before I elbowed him out of my domain, the kitchen), I asked him jokingly if he would leave me if I lost the ability to cook. B seemed confused, upset, and looked at me askance and shuddered. What a stupid question, he seemed to be saying, don’t even think it. I laughed – what a ridiculous idea! – but a part of me was unsettled, because when it came down to it, he didn't actually answer my question...
And now here we are. Yes, B can cook, and usually he enjoys it, but coming home each night from a hard day at work, then trying to hide a multitude of vegetables in bolognaise, curries, or under a layer of my current favourite food - cheese - then often seeing me turn my nose up at it is frustrating for him. I think he was prepared to one day do what it takes to get his toddler to eat their greens, but he had never in his wildest dreams imagined it would be me he’d be trying to feed. (At least I don’t spit my food out and smear it all over my face, I tell him brightly, but as he surveys my still-full plate, this only solicits dirty looks.)
After dinner these days, B has a rather large glass of wine after which I catch him sitting on the sofa, a glazed look in his eye, remembering I think, happier times when I ate normally and better, and more importantly shared the wonderful food I cooked with him.
When the little one is a troublesome teenager, I’ll be sure to show them this post, at how much they were wanted and what we went through to ensure they were a well developed, adjusted human being – even in the womb. Fingers crossed it all works out.

Quote of the day

"I've always like miso soup as it generally displays interesting convection currents."
My father, the scientist.

Lebanese green beans with tomato and onion

This email I recently sent to my sisters is the perfect introduction to this recipe. Their names have been changed to protect the non-blogging innocent… oh and ‘Big Girls’ refers to the fact that they are older than me, not larger (they are actually rather svelte).

Dear Big Girls
Here’s a recipe I’m using in my new Michael Pollon-esque quest to ‘Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants’ but also try and reduce my whale-like physique after our recent family eatquest in Singapore. While I’m glad I managed to sample all of the plethora of dishes that make up the Singapore foodscape, the Agnes B shop assistant’s suggestion I go up from size 2 to 3 (that’s medium to large to you) filled me with such horror (never!) that I have been forced to take up the calorific reduction programme so diplomatically suggested to me by our mother.
This dish is one that I know is much loved by Sister no. 2 as we have have ordered it many times in Lebanese restaurants around the world and, Sister no. 1 we may have had a heavenly version at Abla’s recently? I like to eat the dish with a small portion of white fish fillet with a tahini and lemon juice sauce.
Let me know what you think of this dish. It takes a while to cook, so not great for those quick after-work dinners. I took a lot of the oil out of the original recipe for calorific sake and cooked it in a non-stick pan - feel free if you want to add a little more oil for extra flavour.
I hope all’s well and, Sister no 1, that Little Imp has stopped singing that song over and over and over again.
Love
Sister no.3 xx

200g green beans
1 clove garlic, crushed or whole
1/2 cup onions, chopped or slivered
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 x 450g tin tomatoes
pinch sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup water
chopped parsley, to serve

Top and tail beans. Heat oil, add garlic and onions and cook until light brown around the edges. Stir in beans and fry for 5 minutes. Add tomatoes, tomato paste, sugar and salt. Simmer partially covered for an hour, until sauce is thick and beans tender. Serve at room temperature sprinkled with chopped parsley.

Tarte Tatin

Some silly soul showed me a book called Gourmet Shops of Paris (Flammarion) and I have been thinking about it since. My favourite gourmet shop in Paris is probably the most well known, Fauchon, which is on place de la Madeleine. My father and I would go there on a Saturday for their amazing pastries and often hilarious people watching. Every Parisian stereotype was there, the fussy parents with the immaculately dressed, chipie children; the 60-something women in very short skirts feeding little scraps to their poodles; the drageurs - pick-up artists - who were trying to catch a young lady's eye over a cafe creme; the young BCBG couples in denim jeans and tweed jackets; and the confused looking tourists. I would always order my favourite dessert, the same thing I would order at the end of a meal at our neighbourhood bistr0 - tarte tatin.
This is the simplest and, I think, most delicious French dessert. Far less popular in this country than French favourites chocolate mousse and creme caramel, tarte tatin is a caramelised apple tart.
The original tart was made by nestling apple halves in a deep flan dish, sprinkling with sugar and butter, then topping with a shortcrust pastry lid. Once ready to eat, the tart would be served by inverting the flan dish onto a plate so the pastry was underneath and the apples, now a rich, golden colour, would sit up on top, slightly mushy but still firm enough to defy gravity and hold the flan dishes' shape.
This recipe is easier as it uses ready-made puff pastry. It also ensures the caramelisation of the apples occurs by making the caramel beforehand. This is the hardest part of the process, as the caramel burns quickly. So be alert!
The tart is best eaten just above room temperature with cream or icecream.

1 sheet ready-made puff pastry
6 large green apples
10g unsalted butter, melted
Caramel:
50ml water
100g caster sugar
25g unsalted butter

Preheat oven to 190 degrees and defrost one sheet of puff pastry.
Peel, halve and core the apples and set aside.
Make the caramel by placing the sugar and water in a heavy based saucepan over a medium heat. Monitor closely without stirring until the mixture is a light golden brown. Take off the heat immediately and stir in the unsalted butter (25g). Pour into an 18cm round baking tin.
Arrange the apple halves in the tin, cutting up a few halves to fill in any gaps. Brush the melted butter over the halves.
Bake for 30 minutes, then place the puff pastry sheet over the apples, trimming off extra pastry. Cook for another 3o minutes, until golden brown. Cool until just lukewarm.
Serve by running a knife around the inside of the tin, ensuring no pastry sticks to the side. Then place a plate over the tin and turn quickly and carefully upside down. Remove tin, you may have to tap it a few times, and voila... a gorgeous, tarte tatin.

Out of the Frying Pan at Melbourne Food and Wine Festival

Hello again! It's been a while, I know - the pressures of a new job mean little time to bobble about in the kitchen testing recipes and learning new ones. However there are a few in the works which I hope to have on the blog for you soon so please be patient!
The reason for this post is that the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival is now on again and is packed with an incredibly diverse number of events. While many of the events have now sold out, there are still tickets left to many fantastic events...
Such as Out of the Frying Pan, an all-day event which will discuss all things food - as in future trends, media (including blogging!), how to write recipes and, for me, the most anticipated event, a session with William Sitwell the editor of Waitrose Illustrated (Waitrose is a kind of gourmet supermarket in the UK and the magazine is amazing). So for anyone who either works in food media, intends to one day or just plain fantasises about it, get along to this event.
When: 9am, 3 March 2008
Where: The Langham Hotel, Southbank, Melbourne
For tickets, click here.