The aperitif hour - spicy pepitas and baked kale chips

What I like most about dinner parties is that I have the chance (or maybe excuse is more accurate) to eat all night long. To set the pace for the marathon ahead, I like to kick things off with a little nibble to go with the aperitifs. But how to fit in so much food without feeling like someone needs to pull the pin out and deflate you before you can take yourself off to bed? It's all about balance and pace.

Cheeses, breads and dips are a little too filling for me. Endurance is the thing. So here are a couple of light options. They're simple to prepare, inexpensive and heaven forbid, they're even healthy.

Baked kale chips
I'm a big fan of kale. It has such a robust, textured leaf and, unlike silverbeet and spinach, it holds its shape really well in soups, stirfries etc. Kale is also known as 'cavalo nero' or black cabbage, which makes me think, yes, maybe the colour is kind of black. How intriguing.

I first read about baked kale chips here. This recipe takes kale to a whole other level of pleasure I never thought it was capable of. The chips shatter in your mouth and leave an intense salty flavour. Who'd have thunk a dark leafy green could pack such a punch? I like to toast some cumin seeds, and grind them with some rock salt using a mortar and pestle.

Spicy pepitas
And so to the pepitas. Now, I know pepitas don't usually get the saliva juices flowing in the way that some other things do, but like the kale, when they're subjected to roasting and spicing they become something else. They pop. They crunch. They give a little spicy kick. I'm telling you, they are delicious.

Apart from throwing handfuls straight in my mouth, I also love them sprinkled in salads, on muesli or in yogurt. To make them, toss in some extra virgin olive oil and add some herbs and spices (I used ground oregano, ground cumin, chilli powder, sumac and salt). Spread them out on a foil-lined oven tray and bake on a low temperature (150 degrees or so) for around 20 minutes (very similar to the kale chips).

Et voila! That's the pre-first course taken care of. If you want an aperitif to go with them, how about a spritz? It's the Venetian version of an Italian drink.

Spritz
In a champagne or wine glass, add 45ml of Aperol, or another bitter drink such as Campari, and pour in 90ml of prosecco or sparkling wine. Finish with some soda water and a twist of orange. Chin chin.

What's the occasion? It's Friday.

What to cook to celebrate the end of the working week? I can't remember now what led me down the path of boudin blanc. Probably I was thinking minimal effort. Which I more than made up for in the effort it took to buy the goods while relying on public transport in peak hour. Live and learn. I never do.

Boudin blanc or white pudding makes me think of the old fairytale stereotype - good equals white, bad equals black. Because when I think of boudin blanc I automatically think of its evil twin boudin noir or black pudding - aka blood pudding because it's made with, well, blood. Gay Bilson really creeped me out when she wrote an article espousing the virtues of using one's own blood to make the sausage. I took her point (whatever it was) but still. Eww.


In fact I've eaten blood pudding and quite enjoyed the experience but I'd probably steer clear of convincing my dinner guests they could like it too. Boudin blanc, on the other hand, is the safe blonde option yes, but it's silky and voluptuous all the same.

What's the white equivalent of blood I wonder? Pork meat and rice apparently. But in the case of our sausages it was pork, some unspecified spices, mushrooms, brandy and porcini powder. Good stuff.

But first a little cheese. Blue veined sheep's milk cheese. No more to be said.


Blair denies this but whatever I'm preparing for dinner, he will suggest that mashed potato would go well with it. He had to settle for cold potato salad because it makes a good textural contrast to the sausage. After cooking the potatoes, I doused them in red wine vinegar and stirred through the dressing made from mayonnaise and sour cream. A little chopped mint was added for photogenic purposes.


The French theme made me think celeriac remoulade but then I remembered a French grated carrot recipe I'd just read about here. No way was I hunting down a celeriac. In the city. On a Friday night.

Dessert was cake. Iddy biddy cupcakes so I could choose more than one flavour. And if you're wondering why the icing has slipped off one of them, that is to illustrate my mad dash to catch the train home.

Menu

Blue veined sheep's milk cheese

Boudin blanc sausages with potato salad and grated carrot salad

Little cupcakes