Slow cooker is indispensable

Andre Burgener has been immersed in all things food since she took over the making of the family's lunch box sandwiches aged eight (her mom could make a mean creme brulee and a staggering souffle, but could never butter the bread all the way to the edges.

APPLIANCE UNWRAPPED

I know, I know. Slow cookers are in the same sad kitchen universe as salad spinners and electric carving knives.

Plain embarrassing, right? So I thought too, until a friend who was given one exclaimed over the wondrous meals emanating from the appliance.

So I bought one. It is magical and indispensable. Snigger all you like - once you've made your favourite oxtail or other stewy dish in this thing, you won't look back. It also makes a mean stock. What's more, it uses a minuscule amount of energy. My restaurant kitchen is less frantic knowing that in the morning we can bung the ingredients for a dish in the cooker and come back to find silken meat.

Hints for converting liquid amounts come in the (embarrassing) pamphlet, and the appliance is as forgiving as those hippie romertopfs (clay pots) that had such a good run in the 1990s.

COOKING THE BOOKS

MasterChef contestants have been prodigious book writers.

This particular tome, The Entire Beast, by Australian finalist Chris Badenoch, is the least likely to have massive sales, but is possibly the most interesting. For meat eaters, that is.

Badenoch, obsessed with nose-to-tail eating and beer, seduces even the offal-phobic in a beautiful, almost archly styled book (all glinting knives and film-noir lighting). Beer-braised pork cheeks, duck-neck sausage and crumbed trotters are Badenoch's bread and butter.

Lamb heart tartare might be pushing it for most of us, but there are loads of less threatening (and still compelling) recipes to help you forget that one. Published by Penguin Books, R295.

SWEET TALKING

With oranges on their last lap, I can't help wanting to use them in just about everything.

Usually I'm not a fan of messing with the classics, but this baked custard, based on a creme brulee recipe, is fantastic with the fragrant addition of generous orange zest.

You need: 2¼ cups single cream / 3 dessertspoons caster sugar / 4 egg yolks / zest of one orange.

Beat yolks and cream together, add sugar and orange. Leave covered in the fridge for one hour to overnight. Strain through a sieve (custard with zest in it is no treat). Pour into four to five ramekins, placed in a large baking dish.

Place dish in the oven and fill with hot water to half-way up the ramekins. Bake until it reaches soft-jelly firmness, 30 to 40 minutes. Eat when cool, with berry compote or as is.

And there's nothing to stop you giving the top a thin coating of sugar and burning it a la creme brulee.