Cooking Down Under - The Blog

Aussies love their pies

2009-07-12T17:13:00.004+10:00

What’s Australia’s national dish? Two out of three Australians who have chipped in with their views on the AllofAus site, reckon it’s the meat pie.

The humble pie was closely followed by kangaroo, barbecued prawns and roast lamb, with some people even saying the great Aussie breakfast should get a vote.

Kristy from Melbourne notes the local culture of a pie “with plenty of sauce at the footy in winter”. Some nominated a meat pie with a beer, others emphasised the sauce component.

Certainly since coming to live in Australia and more specifically Melbourne, I couldn’t help but notice the big part footy plays in the lives of locals. Footy watching requires the expenditure of quite a few calories and a well-sauced pie and a beer provide fans with a serve of most of the food groups, I am told.

Of course, some of those having their say at AllofAus nominate other things like Lamingtons, Vegemite, roasts, fish and chips.
What do you think?

To add your voice, go to http://www.allofaus.com.au

The site is a Qantas initiative and it’s not just food that is being talked about there. Australians are being asked what Australian spirit means to them in 2009 and for their thoughts on what sets Australians apart from the rest of the world, and what makes Australia great.

A magazine summing up the Australian spirit for 2009 is being published on July 25.

Can't wait to try your own Aussie meat pie? You'll find the recipe for the one pictured above here >>

Tech stuff

2009-07-10T12:30:00.001+10:00

8v2tnc9jhw Just claiming my blog on Technorati, folks. Normal transmission resuming shortly.

Outside the box

2009-07-03T13:17:00.005+10:00

Don't forget to pack me!

People who have near-death experiences often remark that their whole life flashed before their eyes.

It’s a bit like that when you move house and have to confront all the impedimenta you’ve gathered in recent decades. Unfortunately I have had to face up to all my “stuff” five times in the past 10 years and it doesn’t get any easier in spite of a massive clearance programme on each occasion. I find things stowed at the back of shelves I thought had long since gone to the tip. I discard ruthlessly as I pack and I’m still left with an oversupply to cull further when I unpack.

This time round the Vinnies scored about 15 cartons of unwanted kitchenware, crockery, bedding, towels, ornaments, glassware – you name it. Masses more we hurled into the chasm at the rubbish station.

The lineup of boxes that enhanced the rear of the garage in our last place yielded more tip fodder. We’d got by without some of it for four years since shifting to Australia and hadn’t really missed any of it.

It’s the second big clear-out I’ve had to do in the past three months. My sister and I faced a similarly daunting challenge at our late mother’s place at Easter.

If I never see a packing carton again, it will be too soon.

However, now, after four years of the gipsy existence of leasing a property, we are back living in a home we own – in partnership with the bank, of course. We’ve made what we hope will be our last move.

And now back to breaking in a brand new kitchen, learning the ways of a shiny new oven and finding out if I was perhaps just a little ruthless in my cull of the kitchen gadgets…

The Hole in the Wall

2009-05-31T19:14:00.008+10:00

Melbourne suburbs hide some quaint little meeting spots and the Cricketers’ Arms in Port Melbourne’s Cruikshank Street is certainly one of them. The taxi driver didn’t know where it was. The Spouse offered to direct him but wasn’t much help either, thanks to a couple of one-way streets. However, a nice clear sign suddenly appeared in the headlights, pointing the way.

The place was fairly buzzing when we arrived to meet a friend around 6pm on Saturday night. It’s one of those places where you half expect to get a few meaningful looks if you dare take up a regular patron’s particular possie. However, one cheery drinker pointed out a free table.

We’ve been there before with friends and found it a convivial place. On Saturday a welcoming log fire was burning at one end of the bar and attention seemed to be focused on the racing channel. Just as quickly as the horses ran away with people’s money, many of the drinkers moved out to another area to eat.

The pub is known as “The Hole in the Wall”, a name that dates back to the suburb’s true port days when imbibing sailors would escape through a hole in the back wall to avoid MPs or the local constabulary when they raided the place.

These days, in addition to the public bar, the pub sports an attractive dining room with a couple of gas fireplaces, a lounge-like back bar with more dining tables, and a beer garden. I'm told this is also a great place for lunch.

The lounge dining was fully booked but we secured seats in the dining room and browsed the menu.

The menu cover - but they don't look like cricketers to me.

There are no pretensions about it but it’s well thought-out pub food. There are starters ranging from oysters through dips, antipasto plate, calamari, mussels, prawns, melts. There were also bowls of chips and assorted breads.

I managed to bag the last half dozen oysters in the house ($12) - yes, soldiering on in spite of last Monday's gluttonous oyster frenzy... The Spouse had the calamari ($16) and our friend dived into a succulent bowl of mussels ($16) and a chunk of bread. I often wonder how many sacks of salt are sacrificed daily to hold oysters in the shell.

When it came to a main course,we women couldn’t go past the pizzas and opted for the prawn option – a nice crisp base with garlic, a touch of chilli, red onion, tomato and cheese. And very modestly priced at $13. There were six other pizza options available. We all passed on the half dozen pasta/risotto options and The Spouse chose a steak and mushroom shepherd’s pie which came with salad and bread - $17.

Other mains included chicken Parmigiana, BLT, steak sandwich, burgers (rockling or chicken), fish and chips, porterhouse steak, eye fillet, chicken breast and kangaroo salad – several under $20 and the most expensive (the fillet) $32. All came with real sides includuded. There were also some individual salads on offer - Greek, Caesar, that sort of thing.

Fortunately there was still space left for my nicely boozy tiramisu and their warm apple crumbles ($12).

Unpretentious but all nicely presented. Our fellow diners included kids and parents but there was something for everyone on the menu and we certainly didn’t have any leftovers.

A nightcap at the bar while we watched his Richmond Tigers actually win a game for a change and we were well fortified for a leisurely stroll home through the crisp calm night. Curiously, the journey home was quite a bit shorter than the journey there. Funny, that…

Click on menu pages to enlarge

Oyster Frenzy

2009-05-26T18:34:00.005+10:00

There was a feeding frenzy in Melbourne last night. Around 150 of us packed into the bar at Botanical on Domain Road, grabbed our little cardboard containers and wooden mini forks and gleefully accepted the challenge – all the oysters we could eat in three hours.

For the first 30 minutes at least, there was no letting up in the pace as we queued for another half dozen of the briny beauties. Rock oysters, Pacific oysters, native oysters, wild oysters.

While oysters slide down pretty easily, there was champagne, white wine, beer or vodka cocktails to help them along.

I’m not sure how many oysters were consumed, but going on previous years, it was probably around 7000. And there were a dozen different kinds on offer, among them Barilla Bay, Coffin Bay, Pittwater, St Helen's.

I’ve become a big fan of Australian oysters since shifting to Melbourne. I was brought up on Bluff oysters in New Zealand, with the occasional Pacific oyster thrown in. Now, alas, Bluff oysters are around $NZ25 a dozen, but when I began my newspaper career they were fairly cheap.

In those days we junior reporters were often assigned to cover events on the cocktail circuit – national days and so on. One of the best bits of advice I ever got from my old chief reporter was to locate the oyster bowl and stand nearby for the speeches and toasts. Once the formalities were over and it was polite to start eating, I would be well positioned to attack. As I said “oyster bowl” – generally a large silver container full of luscious fat freshly shucked Bluff oysters was the centrepiece at many functions in those days.

But back to the Botanical’s $75 a head Oyster Frenzy. There were definitely some dedicated oyster fans out to get value for money. One man I spoke to was eating his 83rd oyster. He probably got to 100 before the night was out.

There was mignonette sauce, Tabasco and lemon slices on hand and it was interesting to try two or three different oyster varieties and compare their characteristics. Some were very salty, others had mineral overtones, others a sweet finish. And I did get one cooked oyster along the way – a succulent spinach and cheese concoction.

New Zealand’s Catalina Sounds sauvignon blanc and their Crowded House pinot gris were excellent wine matches for what Botanical describes as “our most debaucherous event”. Watch out for the next one…

Un beau repas

2009-05-11T11:55:00.009+10:00

Melbourne was full of them yesterday – Mums being taken out for lunch by sons, daughters, spouses. Me, too.

Our destination was The French Brasserie, tucked away in Malthouse Lane off Flinders Street. We were warmly welcomed by proprietor Hadj Sadk and soon sipping on Kir Royale cocktails while we pondered the small but well chosen Mother’s Day menu.

I am glad the sons didn’t acquire a taste for oysters until they left home or it might have made quite a hole in the housekeeping budget. Along with me, they couldn’t see past the natural oysters in the trio of entrees. The Spouse reported on an excellent Terrine de Canard which included brandy-soaked prunes and pistachio nuts with the duck along with a witlof salad and honey dressing. The third choice was an autumn vegetable salad with white anchovy and herb dressing.

I went for the Filet d’agneau – a beautifully cooked herb crusted lamb loin with a smooth creamy celeriac flan and shiraz sauce. One son picked the grilled salmon with gratin dauphinois, truss tomatoes and basil sauce. The other option was a twice cooked goat’s cheese soufflé.

The camera had to come out of the purse when the desserts arrived, they were so pretty.

There was Nougat glace aux pistaches et fruits confits, a lovely parfait with dried fruit salad along with a vanilla and apricot foam which vanished fairly quickly when it arrived in front of The Spouse.

I rarely eat dessert but this was the day to dive in and the sons and I chose the bitter chocolate tart with raspberry sorbet, the latter nicely balancing the richness of the tart. I could see the people at the next table equally enjoying a fine crème brulee.

I see from the restaurant’s website that starting this month chef Frederic Naud will prepare his own taste of France every Tuesday night. Focusing on a different region each month, the meal will include a three-course degustation menu for $55 per person. This month it’s Normandie.

The French Brasserie is also handily situated for pre-theatre dinners and offers these for $35 a head, for two courses and a glass of wine.

It’s definitely one I want to try again. It has a slick, edgy ambience and a smart, friendly staff and it was a great place to spend a leisurely Mother’s Day afternoon with the family.

View Larger Map

Thank you

2009-05-06T15:10:00.005+10:00

A few years back I received a letter from an old friend. It began “Still not rich and famous – how about you?” It looks the time has come for my 15 minutes of fame. I’d like to thank those fans who keep reading my blog and encouraging me – and whose votes enabled me to win entertaining section in the Chapeau Blog Awards.

As a longtime journalist, I felt the urge to widen the scope of my writing and the blog seemed an ideal forum. I’ve found it immensely enjoyable. No pay packet at the end of the week but then no editor telling me what to do either.

Some blogs almost write themselves. Others need to be set aside for a few hours then approached with fresh eyes and some critical self-editing.

The big reward is when people are kind enough to leave a comment that they’ve enjoyed reading a piece.

Maybe while my luck’s in, I should go out and buy a lottery ticket.

Clean bowled

2009-04-28T12:00:00.008+10:00

It was too miserable and cold to venture out from beside the heater yesterday so I did a quick inventory of the fridge and pantry then went in search of a recipe for my findings.

Fortunately I didn’t have far to go. I’d just received a copy of Bowl Food for review and there I found just the sort of recipe I was looking for – Moroccan vegetable stew with minty couscous.

It was easy to make, didn’t require a lot of preparation and tasted really good. In fact, I’m betting the leftovers will taste even better after giving the flavours a bit of time to develop.

The fact that it happened to be a vegetarian dish as well, makes it doubly handy because I like to serve meatless meals at least once a week. It would also make a great side dish for a larger gathering.

Incidentally Bowl Food is part of a relaunch of Murdoch Books' excellent Chunky Food series (details below).

Moroccan vegetable stew with minty couscous

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon dried chilli flakes
400 can diced tomatoes
400g can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1/2 cup (80g) sultanas
400g butternut pumpkin, peeled and cut into 3cm cubes
2 large zucchini (250g) cut into 2cm pieces
2 carrots, cut into 2cm pieces
1 cup (185g) instant couscous
25g butter
4 tablespoons chopped fresh mint

Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 3-5 minutes, or until translucent but not brown. Add the garlic, ginger, turmeric, cumin, cinnamon and chilli flakes, and cook for 1 minute. Add the tomato, chickpeas, sultanas and 1 cup (250ml) water. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for 20 minutes. Add the pumpkin, zucchini and carrot and cook for a further 20 minutes, or until the vegetables are tender. Season with salt and black pepper.
Place the couscous in a large heatproof bowl. Cover with 1 cup (250ml) boiling water and leave to stand for 5 minutes, or until all the water is absorbed. Fluff with a fork and stir in the butter and mint. Season with salt and ground black pepper, and serve with the stew. Serves 4.

Recipe ©Murdoch Books, photo ©Pat Churchill

Bowl Food
ISBN 978-1741964141
Murdoch Books
RRP $19.95

Pocket edition

2009-04-27T23:27:00.011+10:00

This is my 100th blog, so I feel a little bit of nostalgia is in order. Famed Paris-based pastry chef and blogger David Lebovitz confessed on Facebook recently that he’d found a USB flash drive in the pocket of his pyjamas. And he is wondering why.

I was left wondering why men have pockets in their pyjamas at all.

What are the pockets for? I don’t have the time to do an exhaustive vox pop, so I am reduced to speculation. I am conjecturing the contents depend on the age of the pyjamee. And whether they are at home or “elsewhere”.

Under 2 – a dummy
Under 12 – toys, lollies
Over 12 – tissues
Over 16 – tissues, condoms, cellphone, cash
Over 30 – condoms, iPhone/Blackberry, dummy (for sprog), drycleaning tickets
Over 40 – condoms, Blackberry, credit card
Over 50 – condoms, Blackberry, credit card, Viagra, antacids, USB flash drives, Medicalert card
Over 60 – most of the above, some past use-by date
Over 70 – same plus rosary beads, nitrolingual pump spray
Over 80 – same plus “Do not resuscitate” card and teeth
Over 90 – same plus card saying: “If you find my teeth, please return them.”
Over 100 – “My name is Charles. I am a millionaire and I live at Sunset Cottages. Please be gentle.”

(Ages are approximate only and there will no doubt be some overlap…)

The first garments I was allowed to sew on the family Singer were pyjamas. Aged 14 and under strict maternal supervision, I cut out the winceyette, learned to do fancy double seams so there would be no fraying and learned the intricacies of buttonholes. This was a leap of faith for my mother. I cut my teeth on pyjamas. Until I worked and could buy my own fabric, pyjamas were my lot.

The last pyjamas I made were for my sons when they were aged about 6 and 4. Knit fabric with fleecy lining. And not a pocket in sight.

All this set me forth on a voyage of discovery. Take a look at this wonderful collection of men’s 30s, 40s and 50s pyjama patterns I found. I just love them – the poses, the toothbrush, the yawning, the pipe, the cigarette, winding up the alarm clock, practising the golf shot - how debonaire. One chap even seems to have a vacuum flask (of cocoa?) And the lovely 1910 “dropseat” PJs (we called them “trapdoor pyjamas” in my youth). And note the single theme? All PJs have pockets - sometimes even two or three!

Thank goodness there are no pockets in women’s nightdresses. WE have no baggage…

Sorry, ladies, the chef is busy

2009-04-19T18:44:00.004+10:00

My sister and I had cause to stay a night at the Novotel on The Terrace in Wellington last week. We’d spent several days over Easter clearing out my late mother’s home and by the time we arrived at the hotel we were pretty much exhausted.

Plans to dine out were rapidly shelved and we decided to eat at the hotel. Room service was a temptation, but pleasant enough as the room was, we made the effort and headed down to the hotel restaurant around 7pm.

We hadn’t booked and were told we would have to wait 30 minutes for a table. But even though the dining room didn’t appear to be particularly inhabited, that was no big deal as our tongues were hanging out for a glass of wine.

Along the way we were given menus to browse and 30 minutes later were led to our table. I pointed out to the waiter that the table had been free since our arrival in the restaurant. He agreed, but then offered that there were only a couple of kitchen staff on.

Excuse me? Whose fault was that? I'd have thought hotels would have ample statistics to show how many people used their restaurants, and how many chefs and underlings were needed on a typical night, based on room booking etc etc.

I wondered if the party of around 10 who’d also spent 30 minutes in the holding pen had freaked them out. But looking round the rest of the room, the few tables were mostly occupied by solo diners or couples.

I can only assume the cheffing duo must have been run off their feet by hordes of people staying in their rooms and ordering up room service big time because it took quite a while for our underwhelming meals to arrive. And it surely took a singularly dedicated effort in the kitchen to turn my simple fillet steak into a total disappointment.

Goodness knows what the few waiters were up to because it took a stern reminder from two desperate sisters before our second glasses of wine eventually appeared. Fortunately we’d had the good sense to tuck a nice chardonnay into our luggage when packing so we cut our losses. declined coffee or dessert, and headed back to our room.

We really should have had the sense to take the short journey down the hill to the Boulcott Street Bistro in the first place…

Scaling the heights

2009-04-07T15:24:00.005+10:00

Sometimes the idea of a dish is hugely more appealing than the finished product. We slice and dice, marinate and pulverise, drizzle and season, telling ourselves it’s going to be worth it at the end. But after and hour or two slaving in the kitchen, we wonder whether it’s justified all the trouble we went to.

Some recipes can be fairly labour intensive. They can be interesting to make and taste great. But will the recipe become a “keeper”? Often not.

It was a hot summer’s day and I decided to barbecue some whole fish for dinner. They were just the right size for one-person meals and were beautifully fresh. And they had been de-gilled and gutted. But I quickly discovered they hadn’t been scaled.

The fish monger would probably have made short work of that operation but I don’t happen to own a fish scaler so I had to muck in with utensils not exactly designed for the job. After dirtying an array of sharp and not-so-sharp implements, I settled on a vegetable peeler which coped, but messily. And remember – this was a hot afternoon… It was two or three days before I got rid of the last errant flying fish scale that had landed about the kitchen. Amazing how far they travelled.

I had fun enough pounding herbs and spices in my new granite mortar. Its predecessor, an apothecary-style one has been banished now this industrial strength beauty has joined the kitchen crew.

Anyway, eventually the fish were slashed and seasoned, lemoned and oiled, wrapped and popped on the barbecue. When they were done, they smelled incredible as the surrounding baking paper and foil was opened. The fresh herbs, lemon slices, olive oil and spices had worked their magic.

And so, on a summery evening on the terrace, The Spouse and I devoured our fish, picking over the bones and enjoying every morsel.

But at the end of the meal when we surveyed the debris littering the table, delicious though it had been, I ventured I was over the barbecued whole fish thing. As we cleared away the detritus, we agreed a nice fresh skinned and boned fillet, dusted with flour and pan fried in a little oil was every bit as good, far less messy and infinitely quicker to cook…

The price of fame

2009-03-30T21:40:00.006+11:00

Last week I received a message telling me my blog is a finalist in the inaugural Chapeau Blog Awards.

I first came across these awards when I received an email invitation to submit my site, along with a fee for $US195, to be considered for The Most Brilliant Blog Award. If I dallied, the fee rose accordingly as entry deadline approached.

Well, fame may come at a price, but I wasn't ready to hand over my money. I cheekily asked the organisers what was in it for me.

Mainly, it seemed from their reply:

Recognition as one of the most brilliant blogs in the world
A beautiful award trophy
Tools to promote my win including:
- Sample Press Release
- Logos & Site Awards Buttons
Chapeau Blog Awards online Gala ticket

Later they told me I could get a free entry if I had a new blog term accepted for their BlogOh!Pedia – an online encyclopedia of blogspeak. I coined a couple - including “blogarrhoea”, that ailment suffered by bloggers who need to blog several times a day - and saved myself $195 with an automatic entry.

I am now staggered to find I am a finalist in the entertaining section of the awards.

And so, if you happen to like my blog, or if you’d just like to see someone from Dunderworld - “those who blog from Down Under” - win, head on over to the awards site and enrol as a voter. They’ll remind you to cast your vote when voting opens next month.

I thought my chance of becoming rich and famous escaped me a long time ago. Your vote won’t make me rich, but a shot at achieving brilliance or even minor cleverness would confirm what I have been trying to tell The Spouse and sons for 30 years. I fear they are inclined to take my talents for granted.

Oh, yes, and I have to record my one-minute acceptance speeches just in case I win something. I will certainly include you all in my thanks. Why, right now I am heading for the treadmill so I can practise the breathless voice. While pounding the rubber footpath, I will watch a re-run of the Academy Awards ceremony and pick up a few tips.

I will take my chapeau off to each and every one of you on the night and if, in the emotion of the moment, I can’t recall all your names, I promise to lapse into a little weep…

The right formula

2009-03-28T18:49:00.006+11:00

You can’t expect to have Formula 1 racing in town without some noise, but finding earplugs on the dinner table at last night’s Grand Prix ball made me mildly apprehensive.

It turned out they were there for a purpose when a racing car rolled onto the stage and the roar of a revving engine shattered the air in the Palladium Room at the Crown.

The driver marched across the dance floor to a raised platform in the centre of the room, the music started and so did the entertainment as he performed an intriguing pas de deux with laser lights.

As usual, the room was dressed for the occasion, this time with a shimmering pink backdrop round the circumference and gorgeous floral centrepieces on the table to match.

The entree was crayfish tail with wasabi flying fish roe dressing, light pea mousse, blueberry ginger salad, and saffron yellowtail kingfish with a bisque dressing, matched with Hardys HRB D638 Chardonnay Margaret River, Adelaide Hills and Pemberton.

Braised Wagyu beef cheek and grilled Black Angus beef tenderloin featured in the main course, served with yellow cherry tomatoes, sugar snap peas, crushed English mustard potato and a porcini mushroom wafer. Hardy’s HRB D637 Cabernet Sauvignon Coonawarra and Margaret River accompanied.

The dessert trio comprised lemon lime chiboust, champagne berries jelly and passionfruit cream with fennel panna cotta and a glass of Lauriston Show Muscat.

The evening celebrated 25 years of Formula 1 in Australia. As poet Rupert McCall said in his poem to mark the occasion, performed with an orchestral group during the evening, Melbourne is truly “a city where the pulse rate is synonymous with sport.”

And the earplugs were handy when the dancing started…

Ending on a high note

2009-03-24T19:25:00.015+11:00

Dining on the 89th floor of a building has to be an experience in itself. When one of the chefs happened to be Rene Redzepi, whose two Michelin star restaurant Noma moved up to 10th on the S.Pellegrino World’s 50 Best Restaurants list, we knew we were in for a special night. Sharing the bill high above the Yarra in Eureka Tower was Raymond Capaldi, formerly of Melbourne’s Fenix and now on his latest venture, Locarno 150 at the old Mercy Hospital.

Redzepi (left) and Capaldi

The amuse bouche creations set the tone for the evening. First there were soft-yolked smoked quails eggs, peeled and presented on a nest of dried grass...

...then little terracotta plant pots were handed round containing radishes ready for us to harvest ourselves. Fortunately the “soil” clinging to the tender little radishes was edible.

Our gardening over, Capaldi kicked off the dinner proper - billed as A Marriage of Ideas - with a sour apple and pinenut custard dish, garnished with fresh cut grass and what looked like a cinnamon quill but was in fact a delicate rolled cinnamon flavoured crisp wafer. This was served with Delatite Dead Man’s Hill Gewurtztraminer 2008 from Mansfield.

Redzepi’s opening dish featured calamari in a mussel-based sea juice, “snow” with a horseradish kick and dill. Under the transparent cucumber slices, the calamari yielded to the fork by separating into delicate dice. Quealy Independence Pinot Gris 2007 from the Mornington Peninsula accompanied.

A Sutton Grange Flor Rose Sherry, spring 2008 accompanied the Locarno 150 dish of rustic tomato chunks, crumbs, sorrel and white chocolate sorbet, again a pleasant marriage of colour, texture and temperature. The juxtaposition of acid herb and white chocolate made the sorbet very acceptable for this white chocolate sceptic.

Some sea plants fashionably foraged from the Hampton beach area featured in the Noma dish of raw chestnuts, salmon roe and rye, served with Silver Wings Macedon #98 Brut NV from Macedon Ranges. Quite a few at our table picked this as a favourite. I might be doing some surreptitious foraging myself soon.

The serving dish for the next Noma course was a fairly solid rock which featured a marron, Tasmanian oyster emulsion and sol (Icelandic seaweed) served with Bass Phillip Premium Chardonnay 2007 from Gippsland. I think that marron died happy.

Locarno 150’s fork-tender gelatinous slow cooked beef with vanilla lily and gravy granules garnished with baby turnips was served with Red Edge Tempranillo Monastrell (Mourvedre) 2006 from Heathcote. Indigenous foods are rising to the surface and I think it's great if we can learn from local cultures. Back in my native New Zealand we are constantly learning about under-appreciated resources in our local environment. One culture's weeds are another's cherished foods.

Walnut, dried berries and frozen milk may not sound like a very exciting offering from Noma, but the frozen milk was a fluffy ice cream-like cloud of milk and cream which perfectly offset the Chambers Rosewood Rutherglen Muscadelle (Tokay) NV from Rutherglen.

If the tastebuds were flagging a little by midnight, then the final Capaldi dish jolted them back into action. Marshmallow cut-outs of the initials M, F and W were part of a whimsical alphabet soup which featured tapioca balls, frais de bois, and a fresh flavoured mandarin soup, which we added ourselves. Yering Station Late Harvest Riesling 2008 from Yarra Valley was a fitting companion.

Verdicts ranged from "interesting" to "amazing", "delicious" to (from a couple of diners enthusing to the chefs during question time at the end) “the best meal I’ve ever eaten”.

Certainly it was a true marriage of modern ideas, fresh regional fare and an excellent complementary wine selection from Victoria, masterminded by the talented Matteo Pignatelli of two-hat Matteo’s.

Eight courses savoured over five hours and a memorable night nearly 300 metres above ground – perhaps a little too far above ground for Redzepi who took a while to find his “air legs” and admitted to experiencing a little motion sickness.

I think what diners appreciated most were the thought processes and skill that goes into putting together a meal of this calibre. There were flavour surprises, "spot the ingredient" moments, sneaking admiration for inventive use of a mundane component, and overall satisfaction that this was a palate-challenging experience.

This was the final event of the 2009 Melbourne Food and Wine Festival presented by The Age, and was hosted by MFW, Wonderful Copenhagen and Scandinavian Airlines. For me, it ended the festival on a really high note.

Communing with chefs

2009-03-23T14:18:00.012+11:00

Savouring a communion wafer that tasted like the aroma of a freshly bathed baby was one of the experiences shared by a room full of dedicated food lovers attending masterclasses at The Langham in Melbourne over the weekend. But not before they’d also popped frankincense flavoured film rectangles on their tongues.

It was the closest most of us were ever going to come to indulging in the Heston Blumenthal experience at The Fat Duck. The shaven-headed bespectacled chef took us through some of the steps that were involved in the extraordinary Christmas dinner which featured on his recent TV series as he incorporated gold, frankincense and myrrh in his babe in the manger offerings.

Blumenthal’s presentation was basically a talk with film clips because the painstaking nature of his food construction (his chef to diner ratio at The Fat Duck is virtually one to one) doesn’t lend itself to mass production in a hotel kitchen.

Heston Blumenthal

The other masterclasses I attended during the day, however, were very much hands-on affairs with chefs cooking up a slick collection of amazing flavours and the hotel kitchen producing samples for us to try.

My day started with the Barossa Valley’s own Maggie Beer who had reunited the Pheasant Farm team from a period she described as her happiest in the kitchen. She was joined by Nat Paull and cook turned winemaker/cheesemaker Steve Flamsteed. They made a warm salad of roasted pheasant from the Beer estate, served with walnuts, citrus and bitter leaves and a touch of beautiful Black Pig belly bacon from a daughter’s holding. Meanwhile pastry whiz Nat showed us some insider’s tricks on producing a verjuice custard with bergamot-braised raisins – smooth, creamy and piquant. An instantly usable tip – place a folded tea towel on the bottom of the metal baking container used as a water bath to disperse the heat so the turned out custards have evenly cooked tops.

Maggie Beer

Warm salad of roasted pheasant

Verjuice custard with bergamot-braised raisins

Shane Osborn left Australia for the UK in the early 90s and now runs London’s two Michelin star restaurant, Pied a Terre. He brought along his protégé Marcus Eaves who now runs L’Autre Pied. They produced a meltingly soft – but still flaky – sous vide-poached sea trout with fennel cream, olive and vanilla veloute and crisply delicious fennel and olive tuiles. The contrasting textures and good marriage of flavours made for a well-balanced dish. In fact, by way of a palate test, green olives were passed round for us to taste while vanilla beans were presented alongside to emphasise the vanilla overtones Osborn perceived in the olives and had exploited in the finished dish.

While we didn’t get to share the rabbit and carrot dish, it was a good chance to learn the basics of rabbit butchery, preparation of carrot oil and how useful a pencil sharpener can be in making carrot shavings for a garnish.

Eaves produced his simple but effective slow poached quail egg on crushed peas with smoked butter emulsion. The peas were lightly pulsed in blender so they were still slightly coarse in texture and the smooth emulsion included a small amount of peeled peas and peeled broad beans. This dish was a reminder that frozen peas can certainly star in their own right.

Shane Osborn

Green olives with vanilla overtones

Poached sea trout with fennel cream, olive and vanilla veloute and fennel and olive tuiles

Marcus Eaves

Slow poached quail egg on crushed peas with smoked butter emulsion

Melbourne can’t get enough of Frank Camorra. There’s always a queue of hopefuls at the door of his Hosier Lane MoVida restaurant looking for a seat. Even the opening of his MoVida Bar de Tapas y Vino next door has done little to alleviate the pressure so there’s a larger MoVida in the wind, likely to open towards the end of the year. And Frank and his co-author Richard Cornish have just completed their second cookbook based on a recent trip to Spain. The photos have been taken and now it’s revision time with the book expected out round November.

Tantalisingly, Camorra’s class started with some footage shot during their recipe-gathering trip to Spain and then he plunged into his menu.

He showed us how to preserve tuna in jars. He served the final product with a summer salad including fish roe, kipfler potatoes and tomatoes.

There were prawn fritters from Santucar. He explained the original features tiny shrimp, but he chopped up prawn meat as a substitute which was then cooked in a batter of chickpea flour and ordinary flour flavoured with coriander, parsley and chives.

Camorra and Cornish, who moderated proceedings, said it was often difficult to get basic recipes, specially when the cook – in one case Herminda, a woman in her mid 60s who spoke only Galician – liked to start at the very beginning and include instructions on how to grow and grind the corn. While Camorra’s interpretation of her peasant scallop pie wasn’t a dish scheduled to be sampled by the audience, it had us queuing at the end for a sample.

A simple chocolate dessert, sprinkled with salt crystals and served with a drizzle of Hojiblanca olive oil and a slice of crisp-baked two-day old bread left people scraping their plates for every last morsel.

Frank Camorra

Preserved tuna with summer salad

MoVida cookbook co-author Richard Cornish

Herminda's corn empanada with scallop, topped in rustic fashion with ragged pastry pieces

Chocolate with bread

This was just a sample of the 15 popular masterclasses presented over the weekend by local and overseas chefs and cooks as part of the 17th Melbourne Food and Wine Festival as it drew to a close.

A very long lunch

2009-03-14T12:44:00.010+11:00

The Melbourne Food and Wine Festival is in full swing and the riverbank outside the Crown complex was the perfect setting for this year’s World's Longest Lunch yesterday

For three hours we sat under the shade of the trees, wining and dining and enjoying a balmy afternoon by the river.

Corporates and clients, ladies who lunch, tourists who were in town at the right time and locals looking for some late summer fun filled the long line of tables that stretched for nearly half a kilometre along Crown Riverside.

While more than 1200 diners settled down to nibble on the appetisers - bread, baby bocconcini, tomatoes, cheese-stuffed peppers, artichoke hearts, olives – wait staff dispensed local wines, fruit beverages, mineral water and beer. Then with well-orchestrated precision they set out the entrees. The antipasto plate was an artful arrangement of prosciutto, salami, perfect baked roma tomatoes, char-grilled vegetables, asparagus, marsala melons and shaved parmesan.

This certainly set the sunny tone for the meal.

The main course was grilled beef tenderloin with a fresh green Tuscan herb crust, served on succulent field mushroom. Almond broccolini and a delicious cannelloni bean salad accompanied.

The lunch guest next to me took the vegetarian options which look equally appetising.

Dessert was zuppa Inglese with dots of red Tuscan Alkermes liqueur, candied fruit, glazed cherries and an Amaretto biscuit topping the sponge cake.

As we sat in the dappled sunlight enjoying the fare, photographers snapped the action for posterity (and occasionally found themselves being snapped) and musicians strolled along the riverbank, taking up their position to serenade a few tables then moving along.

An occasional light puff of breeze off the river kept the temperature perfect and while some diners couldn’t resist the pull of the Blackberry initially, technology was eventually pocketed and the serious business of relaxing kicked in. The Longest Lunch stretched into a long afternoon…

Testing times

2009-03-12T23:33:00.007+11:00

I’ve been cooking food, writing about it, and photographing it for many years. I’ve written a couple of cookbooks (one for bachelors, Man About the House, now out of print, and an ebook The Novice Cook). It's also been a privilege to contribute to numerous cookbooks over the years, many of them fund-raisers for great causes.

At one stage of my career as corporate relations manager for a large newspaper group in New Zealand, I inherited a small book publishing venture after a commercial printing division was sold off. In that extra role, I became publishing manager of several titles, including a couple of cookbooks.

It was there I learned about the hard reality of cookbook publishing. Fortunately I’d had plenty of experience in putting together publications for print, from newspapers to house magazines to glossy annual reports, so the cookbook business was something of a fun job. I got to spend a bit time with the author, famed NZ cookery doyenne Alison Holst and her talented kitchen team as they prepared the recipes for photo sessions. It was also enjoyable working with the designer as I did a lot of desktop publishing myself and it was good to pick up a few tricks from someone conversant with the same software.

And it was great seeing our baby hit the bookshelves. I became a bookstore stalker, surreptitiously rearranging displays so our books were to the fore. I’ve since swapped notes with others involved in the business and they confess to doing that, too.

Something stirred in me recently when my Net friends Mark Tafoya and Jennifer Iannolo from the Culinary Media Network announced recently that they were embarking on their first cookbook and put out a call for people to roadtest their recipes – and perhaps also take photos. I’ve followed these two for about three years via their podcasts and website so I was keen to help out. It’s easy to get in a culinary rut sometimes, so I put my hand up and volunteered, choosing a few seasonal recipes from the list suited to late summer Down Under in Australia.

I put together a shopping list, tried to slot the recipes round family meals and dived into the test kitchen.

It’s one thing developing recipes myself, but quite another working through someone else’s recipe. Normally when cooking out of a cookbook, I frequently wing it, making changes to suit my way of cooking, my tastes, and substituting ingredients if the whim (or an empty fridge) takes me.

This time I followed each recipe faithfully to ensure it was clear, unambiguous, didn’t assume the cook was super-experienced and knew all the jargon, that the instructions were coherent and didn’t leave the reader guessing.

Fortunately the recipes I tested were well written and the evaluation sheets I had to fill in allowed for suggestions on how recipes might be tweaked so the cook could add individual touches. Best of all, the food was interesting.

I started off with a very tasty little Pear and Prosciutto Salad with Toasted Walnuts – a starter for two for a romantic meal.

Next was an Andalusian classic, Salmorejo – a room temperature tomato and bread-based soup.

Silky Spring Beet Soup was next.

Then came Minted Pea Puree Canapés in vol-au-vent cases. The pea puree was very flavoursome and some of it made its way onto the dinner plate after I photographed my final dish...

...Seared Duck with Figged Port Demi-Glace.

It's been a pleasure working with such professionals as New Yorkers Mark and Jennifer. They live, breathe - and eat - food. In short, they get it.

Keep a watch out for their book. I am sure it will reflect their enthusiasm and professionalism. It's a book for people who like entertaining at home, specially if they enjoy hosting dinner parties.

Dreaming of Louise Cake

2009-03-09T22:44:00.005+11:00

Stacey Barber 1924-2009

My mother turned 85 in January. A quiet woman, but with a streak of stubbornness, combined with independence and determination, she became a significant role model for my younger sister Lynne and me after she was widowed at 35. That stubbornness and determination was to come to the fore during her recent fight with cancer.

I longed to cook her exotic meals and take her to interesting restaurants. However, in the food department, we were chalk and cheese.

One year she broke her wrist. A few years later she broke her ankle. Both accidents meant she had to stay with me for several weeks. She lost weight both times because I cooked too much healthy “foreign” food for the family. She couldn’t wait to get home to her own kitchen.

While I carefully observed a fairly Mediterranean diet, she was frying fritters, slathering butter indiscriminately on her toast, scoffing pikelets, scones and muffins and turning up her nose at my efforts to reform her eating. Curiously, my sister and I are the ones on statins while her cholesterol never gave cause for concern.

My husband and sons loved being invited to her home for a weekend dinner of roast lamb and loads of roasted vegetables. Plenty for seconds - and thirds. And pudding as well. As far as they were concerned, Real Food.

To celebrate her 85th birthday, some friends decided to bring round a birthday cake for a surprise afternoon tea when Mum returned from a radiotherapy appointment after her lymphoma had returned with a vengeance. Unfortunately, just before they were due to arrive, I received a call to take her back to the hospital. I left a note for her friends on the door after failing to raise them on the phone, and we headed back to the hospital.

It turned out to be something of a false alarm, and eventually she was sent home, doubly peeved when she learned of the surprise party that had been planned. The get-together was rescheduled, this time with her knowledge.

The Fossil, as my sister and I lovingly call her, was a hard task-master. From her ringside seat, she directed me.

“Could you get out the nice cups.”

“Yes, Mum,” I said, collecting the fine bone china from the cabinet, and washing it all to make sure it looked bright and shiny.

“If we’re having cake, we’ll probably need the cake forks…”

“Sure, Mum.”

She was a dedicated and talented baker and veteran of the niceties of the afternoon tea ceremony, having honed her skills with fellow officers’ wives on air force bases in the 50s. And it was not unknown for Lynne and me to brush up our manners on the occasional Sunday afternoon in our youth when The Fossil would disappear into the kitchen and whip up some cinnamon oysters or an impeccably light cream sponge topped with an assertive passionfruit icing or a piquant orange frosting, redolent of finely grated zest.

And so I had the fine china out, her favourite tea, the cake forks, the pretty napkins and her dear friends sang happy birthday to a brave woman, resolutely battling cancer.

She lost the fight and died peacefully in her sleep on February 5. But not before telling us she had a hankering for a piece of Louise cake, even though her appetite had long since deserted her and she knew she wouldn’t be able to eat it.

"I just dreamed about it," she said.

Louise Cake

65g butter
25g sugar
2 eggs
150g flour
1 teaspoon Edmonds baking powder

Cream butter and sugar, add egg yolks then sifted flour and baking powder. Press into a greased sponge roll tin and spread with raspberry jam. Beat egg whites until quite stiff and add 125g sugar and 50g coconut. Mix and spread on top of jam. Bake 30 minutes at 180C.

From Edmonds Cookery Book, ISBN 9414972210106

Up close and sensual

2009-03-03T12:03:00.011+11:00

I think it's a beautiful love song to food

Padma Lakshmi, the sylph who hosts Top Chef, has added another string to her bow which already includes chef, model, jewellery designer and author. She is now front woman for a commercial plugging Hardee’s Bacon Thick Burger.

"I think it's a beautiful love song to food," Lakshmi said of the commercial. "I think eating in itself is an act of great sensuality, so all you have to do is point the camera in the right direction."

Clearly Padma hasn’t spent much time in food courts watching people scoff down their burgers. That “act of great sensuality” usually involves opening the mouth and sinking the choppers into the bun and then…

Well, that’s the problem with burgers. Thanks to lubricants like mayo, mustard, melting cheese and tomato sauce, things immediately start to fall apart, not least of all the burger which starts self-deconstructing into its component parts. Out skids the onion on one side, the slice of tomato on the other. And the eater still hasn’t made tooth contact with the burger pattie. By now the iceburg lettuce has become horribly limp and starts edging its way out, coating the chin with dribbles of tomato sauce, And that’s only two bites.

Reassembly is called for, coating the fingers in cheese and mayo. The inadequacy of the single ply napkin is immediately apparent. Just as well the consumer has been dealt a handful by the overstuffed dispenser.

By now that burger and the “fries with that?” don’t seem the attractive proposition they were five minutes earlier when the empty stomach was rattling.

Burgers are probably best consumed alone, in private.

Market intelligence reports the Padma commercial is due to air in the US on March 30 so we in foreign outposts will no doubt get to see it online soon after. Will Padma actually engage in a greatly sensual act with a thick one, or will she just sit round fluttering her eyelashes, pouting gorgeously and merely play with it?

Padma Lakshmi in other sensual acts with food.

PS: March 29

Here it is, folks - Padma being elegantly messy...

Full of beans

2009-02-26T11:17:00.005+11:00

One of the family caffeine-heads has just alerted me to the premiere issue of BeanScene magazine.

It’s Melbourne-based but, according to publisher John Murphy, “the magazine will truly reflect a national perspective – city and state rivalries will have no place in BeanScene” and the goal is “to develop the industry as a whole for the betterment of everyone.”

Murphy says the magazine will educate, inform and promote the very best of the coffee culture to a growing community of coffee lovers. It will provide an inclusive platform that encourages the industry and consumers of all levels to develop and share their love of coffee.

According to the BeanScene website, the magazine was on display at the recent Queensland food and wine show and was a hit with the coffee loving public and industry heavyweights alike.

Managing editor Steve Agi will head BeanScene’s editorial team. Steve is well known for his reviews, café journalism, industry insight and dedication to intra-industry promotion. He is the editor in chief of Melbourne Coffee Review and hosts his own caffeine-fuelled radio show, The Devil’s Cup. There is a knowledgeable panel of contributors with solid coffee industry experience.

You can get a taste of the first issue online >>

"Come back" call to tourists

2009-02-23T15:52:00.005+11:00

While many Yarra Valley vineyards and businesses wholly or partially survived the bushfires of early February they have another disaster looming – local tourism is drying up.

I suspect, like myself, many other city-dwellers and would-be visitors have been giving areas affected by the bushfires a wide berth, not wanting to be mistaken for rubber-neckers.

There will be plenty of other areas just as vulnerable, no doubt. While we have been digging deep and contributing to the bushfire appeal, we all have a another part to play by returning to our favourite weekend destinations, buying their local goods, eating at the many appealing little establishments and keeping their local economy alive. They've served us well and we must continue to return the favour.

In the case of the Yarra Valley, this site will help would-be tourists and supporters to identify what damage has been sustained.

VisitVictoria.com is also keeping people posted on which areas are safe to visit.

Hopefully other affected areas will let us know if the welcome mat is still out.

Tourism key to rebuilding burnt towns

All in a good cause

2009-02-17T14:42:00.008+11:00

View Larger Map

One thing Melburnians do well is eat out and many of them will be doing it in a good cause in the weeks to come as restaurants stage special fund-raising events for bushfire victims.

The Albert Park Deli Café in Dundas Place, Albert Park took the opportunity to join in when it officially launched its new dinner service last night and proceeds were earmarked for the bushfire appeal. Fortunately it was a full house.

The café was previously only open for daytime trade from 5am, but owners, the Xynas family, have decided to extend the Monday to Friday hours and I was there last night to sample the inaugural evening menu.

The chef, Yorkshire man Simon Thomas has been at the restaurant for about a year, having worked there on and off since 2000. He’s from Whitby, famous Captain Cook territory, and trained at Scarborough College. He worked in hotels and restaurants in England before settling in Australia in 1992 and working at Cape Schank, in Sydney during the Olympics, and at the Telstradome for the Spotless group. He also has his own catering company, Brown Sugar Catering.

Of course, as a Whitby man, he’s keen on fishing and enjoys trying his luck on the water with the Xynas brothers in the Portarlington, St Leonards and Queenscliffe areas. He also runs and plays golf with them and says he enjoys working for the family. However, there won’t be any Yorkshire specialties on the menu, though the Greek influence is definitely there.

Our group started with the deli tasting plate – a nicely balanced assembly of white sardines, pearl onions, plump green and black olives, wedges of savoury tart, a creamy chicken liver pate, grilled red pepper, deli meats, marinated artichoke hearts and other tempting morsels.

Appetiser choices ($5-$9) included spiced nuts, the Deli’s mix of marinated olives, feta and pickles, a trio of dips with grilled bread and grilled saganaki with lemon and rocket.

Entrees ($10-$16) included salted cod and potato fritters (I must go back for some of those), an endive, goat’s cheese, fig and crispy prosciutto salad or scallops grilled in the shell with lime, soy and chilli – a little bit of the chef’s love of Thai food creeping in there.

Three of us couldn’t go past the generous portion of pan-fried fish of the day ($25.50) resting on a vegetable base including spinach. Next to me, the veal scaloppine
with prosciutto and sage on a saffron mash with madeira jus ($23) disappeared pretty quickly while across the table dry-aged yearling rib eye with potato gratin and café de Paris butter ($26.50) looked equally tempting. There was also a linguine, tomato and olive dish with goat’s cheese or gnocchi with pumpkin, pine nuts and gorgonzola (both $18). To accompany, salad, vegetable of the day or fries with aioli are all $7.

I finished with an affogato ($5) while others tucked into the ice creams and sorbets $11). Crème brulee and tiramisu (both $9) were other choices, as was a cheese selection ($18).

The wine list, while not lengthy, covers all bases without battering the wallet and there’s a happy international mix of beers.

Service is friendly and manager is Luke Skidmore who has previously worked at Rockpool and Vue de Monde.

This was well-priced, delicious fare and is a great addition to neighbourhood dining choices. Simon told me feature evenings are in the melting pot and they hope to do wine dinners as well.

I think user-friendly cafes such as this will increasingly feature on our dining-out radar as the belt-tightening goes on. I was lunching at Southbank last week and was told by the restaurateur some of the upper strata restaurants there are feeling the pinch as diners abandon big prices and go hunting value for money.

[For more restaurants staging fund-raising dinners for the bushfire fund, check out the end of this article from today's Epicure in The Age.]

If you want to donate directly to the Red Cross Victoria Bushfire Appeal 2009, go here.

Be in to win

2009-02-15T17:35:00.004+11:00

Thanks to Murdoch Books I have five copies of Susie Theodorou's delicious Coffee & Bites book to give away. If you'd like to be in to win, full details are on my website. Click here to be transported.

Chucking in the towel

2009-02-04T09:55:00.002+11:00

Question for the day – what are you supposed to do with the hot towels handed out on flights or delivered to the table in some restaurants?

It’s probably OK for men. They can mop their brow or refresh their moustache or whiskers. However, we women run the risk of removing our makeup so we usually end up dabbing round our necks or wiping our hands once the towel has reached a manageable temperature.

The last time I was handed the towel I briefly toyed with the idea of more extensive ablutions on my person or surroundings. Armpits, maybe? Feet? Should I wipe down the foldaway table? Clean the aircraft window? Polish my specs? Launder my loose change?

I chickened out and settled for the conventional hand wash. However, suggestions are welcome for next time...

Clamour to cook

2009-01-10T18:39:00.002+11:00

At least 7000 Australians want to change their lives and be Australia’s MasterChef.

Graeme de Vallance whose company, A Cast of Thousands, is casting the programme, says applications closed last night and the number of applicants was 5000 more than he had expected.

“The standard is extremely high and I have been very surprised at the depth of talent lurking out there,” he told me.

Auditions begin soon and I don't envy those who had to whittle the number down to something manageable. The series will screen on Ten.