This is a rerun from Day 16 of this blog. Day 16! I can hardly remember it being a demanding newborn. But really, this is a recipe I’ve been making since I was about 16, and before that my mom made it, and my grandma, and great aunts, and regular aunts, and I’m pretty sure it was/is in the Art Gallery of Windsor Cookbook, circa 1970something. (My relatives on that side were/are from Windsor, and so a handful of our family recipes can be found in or came from that book.)
Everyone has a few things that taste like Christmas to them – or Hannukah, or Festivus – and this is one of those edibles that can’t not be made in December. It’s so ingrained in our holiday psyches that I can’t really tell if it’s something I’d eat or not if I was introduced to it now (the ingredient list may make me shudder), but every year we make an enormous potful.
And I took a few photos of the process, but really it was just a mess of chopping, like the produce department exploded all over our countertop. I used to say don’t cheat and use the food processor, but this time we totally did – for everything but the cauliflower, which sort of bangs around and turns to little teeny bits with a bunch of tree trunks banging around. (Which reminds me – last time I was on the plane I watched Jamie Oliver make cauliflower “rice” in the food processor – have you seen it? Brilliant!) Anyway, I decided we needed to make a pot of this at five after three, and it was done by the time W got off school at 3:30. Like, enough for many, many jars and containers for keeping for ourselves and spreading around – it’s a good sort of thing to keep in the fridge and grab a jar of to take to a party, or to replenish the buffet table without having to reheat/assemble anything. And we’ve been known to eat it for dinner (see day 16) with crackers.
It’s Friday! That means festive free stuff! London Drugs has provided $100 gift cards to go shop for fun new kitchen toys – like a KitchenAid stand mixer or food processor – two of my personal favourites, two small appliances I’d have a hard time living without, and I say this as not a particularly gadgety person. Also? I think there’s a misconception that girls don’t like getting kitchen appliances for Christmas. I disagree. There are many many ladies out there (men, too) who’d prefer a KitchenAid stand mixer to some old diamond. Myself being one of them. Just sayin’.
Hey! All these recipes I’ve been posting here? The folks at London Drugs compiled them into a 12 Days of Recipes digital cookbook! You can download it here.
AND of course enter to win a $100 gift card to spend at London Drugs. To enter, comment here – remember when I used to ask what you had for dinner last night? I still want to know – but I also love hearing peoples’ holiday baking plans. Or what it is that Christmas just wouldn’t be the same without.
1/2-1 cup olive or canola oil, or half of each
1 small head cauliflower, chopped/separated into small florets
1 large or 2 medium purple onions, peeled and chopped
2 – 375 mL cans or jars pitted, sliced black olives
2 – 375 mL cans or jars manzanilla olives, sliced
2 small red or yellow bell peppers, seeded and chopped
3 – 106 g cans small cocktail shrimp, or about 1 1/2 cups tiny frozen shrimp
3 cans tuna, drained
3 1/2 cups ketchup
1 cup white vinegar
2 – 10 oz. (284 mL) cans mushroom slices or pieces, drained
In a very large pot, combine the oil, cauliflower, onions and olives and bring it all to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook, stirring often, for 5 minutes. (This is how it’s worded in the original book – it sounds as if the veg are boiling in oil, but really the ratio is so great that it’s a lot of cauliflower, onions and olives sort of glistening in the oil – it’s hard to tell if it’s actually “boiling”, so just make sure it’s cooking to the point where any juices you see are bubbling.)
Add the remaining ingredients and heat just until it boils. (Don’t let it go on cooking too long, or the veggies will start to break down and release their liquid.) If you’re using jars, pour the hot antipasto into hot, sterilized jars; seal and cool. Otherwise, remove the pot from the heat and let the antipasto cool, then transfer to containers to store in the fridge or freeze.
Makes about 6 L.
* This post was generously sponsored by London Drugs as part of their #LDHoliday campaign, but the words and thoughts are my own. Thanks, London Drugs!