T.S Eliot may have claimed that April was the cruelest month, but he hadn’t experienced Wellington in early August. By now, the gloss of wearing one’s winter coat and boots has well worn off (especially if you’ve been wearing them since March) and the grimness of rain, wind and more rain is starting to eat away at any joie de vivre you have left. Or maybe that’s just me. I can cope with June (a long weekend, a half-marathon) and July (my birthday, school holidays), but August is rough. Thank goodness for books, binge-watching and bowls of soup accompanied by lavishly buttered baguettes.

Sweetcorn And Kumara Soup

Sweetcorn and kumara soup

After a recent Three Ways With column extolling the virtues of frozen vegetables I had a large bag of frozen sweetcorn taking up valuable room in our tiny freezer. I am emotionally scarred by the frozen vegetables we had to eat at boarding school and the other members of my household are fervently anti-corn campaigners, but I was determined to use it up. This sunshine-y soup is the result.

2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

1 large onion, finely diced

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 stalks celery, finely diced

1 tsp ground turmeric

1 tsp ground coriander

600g (1 large) golden or orange kumara, peeled and cut into 2cm chunks

3 cups good chicken (or vegetable) stock

3 cups frozen corn kernels

Finely grated zest and freshly squeezed juice of 1 large lemon

A splash of cream

A handful finely chopped fresh parsley

Heat the oil in a large, heavy pot. Add the onion, garlic and celery, plus a large pinch of sea salt. Cook over medium heat for 10 minutes, until the vegetables are soft and beginning to colour.

Raise the heat slightly, then add the spices and kumara. Cook for a couple of minutes, stirring to coat the kumara in the onion and spice mixture, then pour in the stock. Bring to a gentle boil, then lower the heat and simmer for 10 minutes or until the kumara is nearly tender. Add the corn and cook for three minutes.

Remove from the heat and puree (with a stick blender, ordinary blender, or food processor. Don’t try pushing this one through a sieve, you’ll hate yourself – and me.) Return to the pot and add the lemon juice and zest, then taste and season appropriately. Reheat gently until piping hot, then serve in warmed bowls topped with a swirl of cream and a scattering of parsley. Makes about 1.5 litres, freezes well.

What are your tactics for surviving the bleakest month of winter?

Q: What do you call a goat that’s sitting around doing nothing?

A: Billy Idol.

I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. I fell down a rabbit hole of goat memes on the internet the other day and bad goat jokes were rife. Believe it or not, the Billy Idol example was one of the better ones.

Goats have been on my mind because today’s Three Ways With… column is all about using goat meat, milk and cheese. The latter has become much more common in New Zealand in recent years -there were loads of great goats’ cheese entries in the recent Outstanding Food Producer Awards, for example – but the former two are only just on the cusp of being mainstream. It’s a pity, because they’re delicious – and they tick all the boxes in terms of careful production and quality.

I was inspired to make my own cajeta (pictured above) after tasting Hamilton company Cilantro‘s version. Making your own is fun, not difficult and yields a generous amount that will disappear quickly. It’s the closest thing I’ve tasted to manjar, the highly addictive Chilean dulce de leche. One spoonful and you’ll never be satisfied with salted caramel again.

If you’re too pure to sully your palate with such decadence, but want to have a play with goats’ milk in the kitchen, I strongly recommend DIY goats’ curd. I make it quite often (short-dated goats’ milk is often on special at my local food emporium) and it’s the sort of kitchen magic trick everyone should know how to perform.

DIY Goats’ Curd
This is about as simple as cooking gets – milk + heat + coagulant + time = soft, creamy goats’ cheese. Smoosh a bit on some toasted baguette, drizzle over some extra virgin olive oil and bliss will be yours.

500ml (2 cups) goats’ milk
3 Tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
a pinch of salt

Heat the goats’ milk until simmering point. Remove from the heat and stir in the lemon juice. Let sit for 10-15 minutes, until curds have begun to form. While you’re waiting, line a sieve with muslin (I use a very fine cotton table napkin) and set it over a large bowl.
Carefully pour the curds/milk into the sieve. Leave to drain for at least 20 minutes, pressing it gently to squeeze out the whey. If you’re not in a hurry, you can put the sieve/bowl arrangement in the fridge and let it drain for a couple of hours.
When you’re ready, scrape the curds into a small bowl. Use immediately or cover and store in the fridge.

Are you a fan of goats’ produce? Or do you have a good goat joke to share? Let me know!