confessions of a food nazi

incentive based fitness training aka lunch at Wesley Anne

2012-01-27T13:02:00.005+11:00

This is not a restaurant review, just remembering the good days when I have them. The Summer of Vegan cooking is coming…soon…I promise.

It’s 8 kilometres from home to Wesley Anne in Northcote and back. The walk involves a hill a hill or two and the lure of good food in the middle.

While this is probably not what a personal trainer would have in mind, my fitness program for The Grand Traverse by necessity has to be incentive based. It’s far too scary to contemplate tramping 18 kms a day up mountains without a tasty lure.

The menu at Wesley Anne always pleasantly surprises me. It’s better than average pub food, pitched at a wide variety of dietary requirements and at a decent price. Any place that I have the luxury of choice (heaps of vegetarian, a few pecterarian and a number of dairy-free offerings) deserves a mention. But would it suit the Born Again Vegan (aka the Significant Eater)? I so hoped after the hike up the hill that she wouldn’t let us down.

While there’s not a heap of vegan options (sides like the delicious roast potatoes or the asparagus and almonds make delightful mouthfuls but they’re not a meal), beyond the smoked tofu salad the menu promises, “Certain meals can be made vegan and vegetarian”.

The SE did just that. A veganised version of the Rustic Plate dished up a better than average shared platter, or in this case a substantial lunch for a hungry man.

This over-exposed photo doesn't do the plate justice, it was huge and that's before you tuck into the warm mini-loaf of bread.

For almost half the price I got a damn fine calamari salad. The lemon dressing and wafer thin croutons made my weekly non-vegan hit an absolute treat. It was one of the best I’ve had.

The walk home took us past the Westgarth, perfectly timed to see the Descendants. Great film. I was the one sobbing in the middle row every time death and dying was mentioned. Still, it was most cathartic.

Now if only the walk offers such great food and entertainment….

fire and ice aka summer gardening in Melbourne

2012-01-16T12:18:00.004+11:00

By the way, blogger tells me this is my 600th post. Who'd have thunk it?

The subversive plot has suffered neglect, golf-ball sized hail and days of scorching heat in the 40c’s over the last few weeks. On my return after Christmas, I was surprised to find I had anything left at all after the hailstorm.

My lazy gardening strategy of letting the tomatoes range with minimal intervention, that served me so well in the 2009 heatwave, continues to pay off. While a small amount of fruit was damaged (especially of the larger sized tomatoes), the majority has survived.

While the tomatoes are staked and pruned haphazardly at best, the strawberries require a little intervention. After watching the first two berries ripen, only to be nabbed by the birds before I could pick them, a couple of dollars of netting was a suitable investment. The old, concertina-style wine rack was also repurposed.

I possibly lost some of the eggplants, as there was a glut of flowers that set over a month ago. But I spied one, hidden at the back growing contentedly. The hail/heat cycle appears to have triggered a second round of flowers.

January 9sqM garden round up

Tomatoes – Burnley Surecrop and two Tommy Toes producing a steady stream of fruit. The perfect amount for a two-person household so far but weather catastrophes willing, there should be a glut in a month or to be roasted, pureed and frozen. I thought I'd lost the two other seedlings planted late, but they're just crowded out by the older siblings.

Strawberries – so many plants but on average only 2 or 3 ripe ones to nibble on each day.

Carrots – thought I’d harvested them all a month ago but found 4 or 5 decent ones this weekend. Still sweet, not woody.

Parsnip – like the carrots I’d thought I’d had the last of them but just spied a lurker this morning.

Silverbeet/chard – most now gone to seed and removed (lots of seed saving first) but a couple of plants soldiering on with new leaves.

Sorrel – looking a bit worse for wear after the hailstorm. Hanging in there, just.

Chives – robust small tuft planted in garden continuing to produce.

Parsley – garden patch gone to seed, after cutting back some edible leaves still usable.

Chilli – having removed my prolific plant when the garden was regenerated earlier in the year, the replacement is flowering but not fruiting as yet.

Tarragon – in a pot competing with weeds, the herb you use least always seems to last the longest.

Mint – has survived in a pot for another year. Thanks to the higher than usual rainfall it’s still lush and green.

Rosemary – stunted bush in a pot, waiting to be strewn on roasted potatoes.

eulogy

2012-01-06T12:36:00.004+11:00

It was an odd Christmas back in New Zealand. I sprung out of bed early to put together a hearty breakfast - scrambled eggs with roasted tomatoes, rosti and smoked salmon. There was ceviche to marinate, a Marie Rose sauce to put together and prawns to peel.

We hit the road with a few treats, following the familiar route to the nursing home. While mum couldn't make it home for Christmas, I was determined to bring some of it to her.

I've written before about what a cruel bitch dementia is, add a stroke and immobility and little is left. Aromas, tastes, sounds and touch can sometimes reach parts of the brain otherwise immune to language. For mum's last Christmas I was determined there'd be a gin and tonic and prawn cocktail, diced small enough to savour a teaspoon at a time.

The G&T hit that hidden spot. A smile as wide as a river. Each mouthful of prawn cocktail swallowed with something that looked like joy.

So pleased we'd found a way to make the day special in some way, for someone who barely knew her name let alone the date.

A little over a week later, my mother died.

I was just pleased she got a last gin, something that had previously been a daily reward for decades.

Back in Wellington, as the northerly wind whips past outside, I try to write her eulogy. All I can think of is standing at the kitchen bench creaming butter and sugar to make a cake, biscuits or a slice.

A year and a half ago I wrote...

Like many of us who are comfortable in the kitchen, it carries a daily reminder of the culinary traditions shared by my mother. Even if for me some of these skills are now redundant – through observation and careful assistance my mum taught me how to cream butter and sugar for a cake and to use the eggs from the pantry, not the cold ones in the fridge, for baking. As a carnivorous child I learnt how to brown cubes of beef for a casserole and the art of gravy making.

Decades on and in a different country, when I stew rhubarb (the only fruit that was ever plentiful in our shady garden) I cut the stalks into thick slices with my mother’s hands. I toss the sugar in carelessly, adding sweetness as required, remembering to only moisten with a little water and keep an eagle eye on the pot while it simmers on a low heat.

Though my mother is still able bodied, she no longer stews fruit. It’s years since she cooked and the poorly stocked kitchen under my father’s reign fills me with waves of grief each time I visit. This was once the heart of the home, now the drawers and cupboards are alarming spartan. It is the room of the house I feel her absence most. Despite that fact mum still bustles in, she might eye the kettle but is unable to reliably make a cup of coffee now.

Lately I’ve found myself honouring her memory by reading the books she used enjoy and keeping some of her kitchen traditions alive, albeit on another continent. I know I can’t blow the dementia from her brain or bring back the woman who raised me but I find these rituals comforting. For now she still has a dry sense of humour and can come up with the odd gem. She knows who I am but our baking days are over.

I'm looking forward to this phase of grief being over, returning to my own kitchen and paying homage to my mum in the way that comforts me most.

the ones that got away

2011-12-19T14:35:00.007+11:00

In October I quietly ignored the 6^th anniversary of Confessions of a Food Nazi. There’s been a lot of water (and homemade cordial) under the bridge since that first post on rhubarb with strawberries and rosewater.

At the beginning of the year I went mad on fish cutlets in a tomato and olive sauce. Just remembering it now is driving me crazy with desire, it was just so darn good. But give me a glut of tomatoes and I’m still more likely to make the vegan wonder of 2010 (tofu in a gingery tomato sauce) instead.

In June I had a wet weekend in Newcastle and ate Balinese food and in August I hung out with people from Newcastle in Bali at the Mindfulness retreat. Despite the weather, I enjoyed the NSW city but for the food, swimming and massage I'd be back on a plane to Indonesia any day.

Though Bali was the sweet spot of the year, the vegan truffle redux were a close second. The only food promise I’ll make for 2012 is there will be more experimentation with coconut oil extracted flavours. Plus lots more vegan food as the Significant Eater has announced, that for now, he’s joined the ranks. This summer I’ll be making more quinoa and millet dishes than you can poke a stick at.

Beyond my own kitchen I’ll take a stab at local food trends 2012:

Coconut will be king. I’m predicting coconut oil, water, milk, cream and even dried coconut in various forms will be the new hot flavour. Or maybe it’s because I have a Mr Nice Guy coconut vegan cupcake still a vibrant memory in my mouth from lunch?

Macarons have had their day; they jumped the shark when supermarkets started to sell them. Canelles could be in for a similar fate. I don’t think it’ll trend but I’d love the irony if macaroons became the new macarons (and that’d segue nicely from my first prediction!)

Local honey. The city is becoming alive with hives on urban rooftops and any hip eatery seems to be doubling as an apiary. In 2012 I’m predicting we’ll see honey labelled by street name, a little like Swords wines celebrated the back streets of Fitzroy in the ‘80s.

For now I’ll save my rants on the zillions of dumb emails I got courtesy of the blog this year (there are doozies, I promise you) and leave you with a few pics of the posts the got away

I grew parsnips for the first time, the first flush of young veg were so tender you could eat them raw. Nothing like the old tired ones that make their way to the shops.

Wraps are my home lunchtime fallback. Something leafy and green from the garden, tomato and avocado if there's any to be found and some kind of protein. Often panfried tofu or this tempeh fried with kecap manis. A little mayo never goes astray if the mountain bread is a little on the dry side.

I'm a sucker for Noisette's fig and apricot fruit loaf. In the rare event there's any leftover on the weekend, I make thick batons, dunk in vanilla scented beaten egg and whip up the most amazing French toast. Best served drenched in pure maple and organic strawberries.

I love to have my main meal at lunch (and then just a wrap for dinner) some days. This was a pepper crusted hunk of flash fried tuna (cut into strips so I could lazily eat the meal with only a fork), topped with tuna and Kalamata olives, served with roast asparagus and potatoes. A Nicoise bake, rather than salad.

My October trip back to Wellington, I got to have brunch at Larder in Miramar (aka Wellywood). Celeriac and smoked eel in a breakfast dish? It made my day.

What stood out (or got away) in your journey through 2011? Do take a punt at some food trends!

Have a pleasant season of over-eating and a healthy New Year.

how a gadget reclaimed my heart and the war on clutter was lost

2011-12-03T09:12:00.006+11:00

Why is it that the process of decluttering tends to cover more surfaces with mess than it clears up? Or perhaps I’m the only one who begins chores, only to loose interest half way through. The sad reality is that my kitchen is invading the rest of my small home. From cookbooks to preciously hoarded jars (yes, instant entry to old-womanhood), there are only so many things that can be shoehorned into a tiny house.

Something’s got to give.

While a few cookbooks have been culled (and a pile of less-used-but-still-can’t-be-thrown-out sit on the table awaiting banishment to a high shelf) and the aforementioned recycled jars are on notice, my small handful of kitchen gadgets got the once over.

The mini-food processor is used so often it’s won bench top squatting rights. A week doesn’t go by without a batch of nuts being ground to sprinkle on breakfast or a quick curry paste blended from scratch.

A bigger version hunkers in the cupboard, rarely touched since I fell in love with its dwarf twin. But the promise of whizzing up a batch of scones in the wink of an eye gains it a stay of execution.

In frequent use is the stick blender. I worship this invention and thank the day it superseded the old-fashioned jar blender. Who could forget attempting to blend molten batches of soup in the 80s? It’d take at least two or three blender-fulls and a couple of pots to transform a chunky liquid into a smooth soup. And the mess! Not just all the washing up but at some stage the inner lid would blow, creating an unwanted art installation on the (inevitably) white kitchen and the risk of second degree burns.

With the delightful combination of warmer weather and arrival of affordable bananas, my stick blender and favourite jug are in regular service. I’m loving summer fruit blended with rice milk and a touch of either pomegranate molasses or a spoon of coconut sorbet.

So it was with a heavy heart that I eyed up my long neglected juicer. Purchased almost-new for $12 at a garage sale in 1990, she’s done great service. I figured the carrots, celery sticks and apple quarters that gadget’s seen in the name of detoxifying had surely earned a dignified retirement?

But a watermelon bought with the intention of becoming another summer of love salad became my undoing.

“Watermelon juice!” I thought. And oh how right that notion was.

Watermelon juice three ways

Watermelon smoothie: blend juice with a small banana and a handful of strawberries. No milk or added sweetener required. The banana gives it added body and creaminess.

Summery watermelon cocktail: shake together 3 parts juice, 1 part Cointreau and a dash of rosewater and pour over ice. Not sure how I dreamed this combo up but I promise you the hint of orange from the liqueur and the fragrance of roses marries with the watermelon perfectly. And it’s pink!

Au naturel: or mixed 50:50 soda water to extend the loveliness.

So after three weeks of “decluttering” – the kitchen table’s still missing in action, cookbooks have been relocated (making space for my burgeoning jug collection) and the juicer is fighting the jam jars for space in the cupboard.

...and a former ambivalence for watermelon has been transformed into a new seasonal crush.

tacos with a little leftover love

2011-11-28T12:16:00.006+11:00

”Never underestimate how much assistance, how much satisfaction, how much comfort, how much soul and transcendence there might be in a well-made taco and a cold bottle of beer.”
Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume

Tacos, cheap as chips and so simple even a child can throw one together, seem to be the new “it” girl in town. From the stupidly cheap, to tad underwhelming and coolest of the cool, I’m predicting a Mexican summer in Melbourne.

Unlike spending your night queuing on the stairs of last year’s hippest restaurant, it’s more fun and easy to make tacos at home.

With a little homemade salsa anything tastes good. Leftovers can be transformed with the addition of salsa, lettuce and avocado into a Mexican inspired feast.

Sure, there have been times when I’ve sourced the best taco shells, cooked refried beans from scratch, lovingly made kick-ass guacamole and forked out for horrendously expensive/only just edible dairy-free “cheese”. But take it from me; a little leftover chili beans and a few minutes spent chopping while the supermarket-bought shells heat in the oven works just as well. Add sunshine or a warm spring evening to dine outside and you can’t fail.

You can even throw together a quick after work bit of leftover love for tasty and easy solo dining.

Simple leftover-magic tacos for one

(multiplies easily for more)

Simple tomato salsa

A couple of ripe tomatoes, diced

1 tablespoon of fresh coriander (cilantro), chopped

1 chili to taste, finely chopped

A decent squeeze of fresh lime or lemon juice

A pinch of salt

Mix together in a small bowl.

Sides

Protein – take your pick leftover beans (or refried from scratch), a can of fish, some smoked tofu cut into strips or for the carnivores leftover roast chicken or turkey (hey Christmas is coming!)

Shredded lettuce – use something crunchy like cos or the humble iceberg.

Avocado – halve, remove from the shell and stone and simply slice. Squeeze some lemon or lime juice over the cut fruit to stop discolouring.

If you must – get some super-hot Mexican sauce to add a few more drops of spice but I tend to make my fresh salsa hot enough to not need it. For those with children or who dine with the heat averse, the sauce isn’t a bad idea but watch out, the hot one really will burn your mouth!

Warm the taco shells in a moderate oven for about 10 minutes or as directed on the packet. Put in twice as many as you think you’ll eat. Believe me, there are never enough once you get started.

Assemble at your leisure, it’s a messy job but sometimes the best food is the kind that gets your hands dirty.

a subversive plot

2011-11-21T11:34:00.006+11:00

Today I discovered a new geeky pin-up boy and worked on a subversive plot.

Thanks to Mark Bittman's thanksgiving piece in the NY Times, I give you my latest food/gardening/political heart throb, Roger Dorian and his inspiring TED Talk.

But now it's time to go back to my subversive 9 square metre plot.

Seasonal garden update

Spring finds me still hanging onto the last of my winter cavolo nero and rainbow chard. Both attempting to bolt and go to seed.

It's still a thrill to come home from work and pick a carrot to munch on while I cook dinner.

The parsnips have been a good experiment. But the true revelation was eating them raw, young and tender. Who ever new a parsnip could taste so good?

The coriander disappointingly yielded no seeds this year. I'd raised them from seeds saved from last years abundance, planted in the same spot but alas the bolt began but fizzled, seedless. Anyone know why?

The parsley is bushy but not for long.

But the sorrel continues to be a star - fresh as a citrusy salad green or tossed through an omelette, I'm thoroughly addicted to the stuff.

New season kids on the block

So shoot me for harking back to the same old, but it aint summer without the trusty Tommy Toe tomatoes.

I've added an heirloom "Burnley Surecrop" to see how it goes.

There's eggplant in the spot closest to the barbecue. I regretted forgetting to plant some last year. Looking forward to that one quick move from garden, chopping board to grill this summer.

Lastly, there's a lot of strawberries - some fruiting already but between the cat covering them up in a frenzied feline OCD manner and the birds (must get some netting) I've only managed to salvage one so far.

I need to say farewell to the winter greens and plant some summer leafies. Such a small inner city plot will never fully feed me but it does cut my weekly organic veggie shop down by half.

And there's the buzz of being part of a global, subversive plot!

Oh and I still haven't covered the blue board, stopped the back shed from falling down and otherwise beautified my backyard. I prefer focusing on the beauty of green, growing things instead.

giving your fare share

2011-11-20T10:29:00.002+11:00

Originally posted on my other blog but sometimes food and politics intersect.

This week I had the pleasure of meeting a couple of StreetSmart’s grant recipients. We got to see behind the scenes at The Social Studio and break (injera) bread with Marcus and Kelly from FareShare.

I’d heard of Fareshare, largely through @msmadwoman’s singles cooking for a cause events, but knew little of the logistics behind this burgeoning organization. These guys turn industrial quantities of donated ingredients into (correct me if I got the number wrong Marcus) half a million meals a year.

200,000 people in Victoria are classified as food insecure, regularly missing meals because they can’t afford to eat. While much of the food and labour is donated, the out of pocket cost of turning a pallet of just-within-sell-by-date-chicken into chicken pies is about 50 cents a meal. That’s the culinary equivalent of making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

Which got me thinking. Having been a victim of Westpac taking over my handpicked non-big-four bank twice now, I’m still choking on the $90 million they’ve spent to rebadge the recently acquired St George Bank back into (the previously raided and closed) Bank of Melbourne. While banks like Westpac are known for their corporate philanthropy, such as releasing staff to do voluntary work for a few days a year (in places like the FareShare kitchen) I’d have preferred they spent the money buying 180 million extra meals for disadvantaged locals.

While we’d like to think these grassroots organizations would love us to volunteer our time, in reality they’d prefer our (and the corporates) money. See the contact details below if you’d like to share the love this season.

Streetsmart: If you aren’t eating out at any participating restaurants this festive season, you can donate directly

FareShare: donate online every buck buys two meals.

The Social Studio: provides a variety of ways you can contribute to helping refugees start a new life, from having a coffee at the café or buying a new frock, to donating directly.

M.A.D Woman: has a range of innovative fundraising events for everyone (not just singles).

eating for a cause

2011-11-17T20:07:00.005+11:00

Six weeks to Christmas means just one thing.

Streetsmart.

Or this year, DineSmart. Same great organisation, same concept (just add a couple of bucks to the bill at participating eateries), only a minor name change due to the expansion of their fund raising arms.

These guys were the first to introduce the concept to Australia and while some bigger organisations have muscled in on the action, I like DineSmart because of their support of small, local community groups that wouldn't always qualify for other funding.

Find a DineSmart participating restaurant.

(Do I need an excuse to brunch at Miss Marmalade? No I don't, I'll just be donating to a good cause!)

DineSmart gives 100% of the money raised through DineSmart to grassroots organisations, it doesn't get gobbled up in administration costs like the big guys.

It also supports wonderful places like The Social Studio (and their Cutting Table Cafe in Collingwood.

Helping them buy essential items like sewing machines.

So refugees can be nurtured through off campus education.

Sounds familiar? Previous StreetSmart posts:

Streetsmart 2010 (the one with that Sydney sight that made my jaw drop)

Streetsmart 2009

blight

2011-11-17T15:37:00.004+11:00

At the library I tend to gravitate to the new glossy cookbooks on display. Call me shallow but this kind of window shopping means I can actually take the product home for a limited time with no buyers remorse if it turns out to be all front and no back, so to speak.

Cook: A Year in the Kitchen with Britain's Favourite Chefs put out by The Observer is something way too meaty to consider purchasing but was happy to take it home for a ride purely due to the name "Ottolenghi" on the cover.

Over a rather delicious late lunch, I sat outside and began flicking through the pictures.

Then I came to this.

Would you eat such a manky looking avocado?

Would you include a photo of such a poor specimen in your blog, unless it was a post on manky fruit porn or to accompany a post like this?

Just as a blighted wedge of avocado can turn me off my breakfast, such poor styling can let down a cookbook.

Or am I just shallow?

scented vegan truffles: a sensory experience

2011-11-12T13:40:00.006+11:00

Scent: orange, vanilla, coconut, chocolate.

Texture: silky, melt in your mouth.

Flavour: see scent…all that and more.

Sound: can you hear the groans of pleasure, followed by, “holly f*ck give me more”?

For those who thought vegan food was all mung beans and healthy goodness, I give you the most luscious morsel to have graced my senses in living memory.

Vegan truffle redux
(Quantities for an experimental batch of about 20 truffles)

300 gm organic coconut oil
The rind of one organic orange
1 –2 vanilla pods
600 gm good quality dark chocolate (I used an organic 70% block of couverture)

Add coconut oil to a small pot. In this part of the world, it’ll be solid rather than free flowing. Wash and dry your orange. I used a Valencia as it was the freshest around at this end of the citrus season. As you’re using the skin of a highly sprayed crop, it’s worth buying organic. Carefully peel or zest the orange, avoiding the pith. Split your vanilla pod(s) open. Add the peel and vanilla to the coconut oil and melt over a low heat. Once melted cover with a lid, turn off the heat and leave to infuse in a warm place for about 24 hours. You should have a heavenly scented oil that after some time solidifies again.

The next day, or whenever the mood takes you (you can store the infused oil in the fridge for a couple of weeks if need be), chop your chocolate finely then whiz in the food processor. After a few blitzes if should be the consistency of breadcrumbs. Now heat the oil til it melts, strain through a sieve and pour onto the chocolate in the food processor bowl. A couple more whizzes and you’ll have a divine smelling, melted chocolate mixture. Poor into a tub, cover and refrigerate for 2-3 hours, til solid.

Now comes the fun part. The melon-baller method is a lot less messy than rolling with your hands (read my previous effort if you’d prefer the rustic version). Set out some good quality cocoa powder in a bowl, grab the melon-baller and a couple of teaspoons and get ready to go. On a warm day you may need to do this in batches if the mixture starts sticking to the baller. Just pop the truffle mix back in the fridge for 15 minutes.

Scoop some truffle mix, dunk it in the cocoa and toss it around with a couple of teaspoons, til coated. Repeat…again and again and again…

Sight:

a real food photographer would dust them with more cocoa to cover the teaspoon marks and arrange them on a pretty plate…but hell, life is too short to play with chocolate on such a hot day

Cook's notes

While my previous vegan truffles were moreish, the infused coconut oil version took them to a whole new level.

Obviously you can have fun infusing the coconut oil with your favourite flavour combinations. I’d originally chosen cardamom instead of vanilla but they were old and had lost too much of their essential oils.

Go easy. These are so rich. Savour the flavour, aroma and texture. More than one or two in a sitting could leave you feeling a little queasy.

watermelon salad and the summer of love

2011-11-07T16:54:00.008+11:00

My golden rule for cookbook buying these days is that I have to actually cook from it in the first week or two of ownership. Otherwise after that initial flick through it tends to be cast aside, relegated to mere food porn. I guess like the real thing, being a spectator’s one thing but it’s a heck of a lot more fun to participate.

In New Zealand I made an impulse purchase of Heidi Swanson’s lovely new cookbook. The current generous exchange rate always makes me feel so rich whenever I go home and was happy to spend some it in a local, independent bookstore.

As a longtime fan of 101 Cookbooks I knew it wouldn’t be hard to find something to cook within the critical timeframe. With eat.drink.picnic promising a stellar 30c day, the watermelon salad was a no brainer.

Did I take photos? No, in the rush to head off to the gardens I forgot. But it’s a simple dish – watermelon balls (note to self: must improve balling technique), toasted pistachios, slivered dates, a squeeze of lime and a dash of rosewater. Next time round I’ll throw caution to the wind and add more lime and roses and toss in some fresh mint.

The picnic was one of the best I’ve been to for ages. Perfect weather, a great mix of people (old and new acquaintances, all delightful), pétanque, vegan desserts (oh how I love to be able to eat a dairy-free dessert) and a delightful location. With the annual Village event next door providing some enjoyable music, by 5 pm our little pocket of Edinburgh Gardens was covered with so many blissed out park goers that it looked like The Summer of Love.

Thanks so much to everyone who turned up (and sorry if any shy souls arrived and couldn’t find us, like a blind date I should have been wearing a pink carnation in my lapel). I really want to make Michael’s vegan caeser with Black Ruby’s stunning GF bread, Carla’s I can’t believe it’s not pate and Johanna’s vegan nutella fudge*. The Significant Eater is determined to buy me an ice cream maker to recreate Kristy’s balsamic strawberry ice cream.

Notable mention also goes to Claire’s wonderful prawns and Ed’s proseco. Not that I’m picking favourites, just two days after a 5 hour feast this is the best my mind could muster. Surely a good sign that it was an excellent day,

P.S. Some random thoughts while writing this post

Independent stores – books, locally made clothes, food…are awesome. If you have to buy things for Christmas, it’s nice to support the little guys.

We must have more picnics! There’s talk of a bloggers end of year “break up” at Barefoot Bowls. (Though Christmas may be loosely translated to early in the New Year).

We need to make all food related gatherings, whether it be friends, family or food lovers, as inclusive as possible. That doesn’t mean 100% gleegan but it’d be nice is half of it is. Everything was delicious.

Summer of Love? Yes please.

I really don’t watch porn (or not in the past two decades at least!)

attention Melbourne foodbloggers: eat.drink.picnic

2011-11-01T11:00:00.003+11:00

The weather forecast for Saturday is 30c, perfect for a picnic.

This is an open invite to all Melbourne Food bloggers who aren't heading north to eat.drink.blog #2 in Sydney, to come and picnic with other bloggers in sunny Nth Fitzroy, this Saturday.

This has been publicized through the Melbourne Food Bloggers group on Facebook but as not everyone has joined as yet, thought it'd be good to give a heads up here.

When?
5th November @12.30.

Why?
An opportunity to share homemade food, chat about eating, drinking and blogging and hopefully soak up some summer sun. Celebrate spring and include a fresh veggie dish to share. (To clarrify - this isn't a vego only event, just hoping that omnis can be inclusive and include a veg-friendly dish in their basket).

Where
North Fitzroy, comment/email me for exact location.

Don't forget a rug and sunblock, loved ones/families welcome.

Perfect for a picnic (and price of caulis willing) I'll be whipping up some of this. Over five years since I first made it, I'm utterly addicted to this dip and make it at least twice a month.

hold the sprouts

2011-10-17T09:30:00.002+11:00

I have a thing with sprouts. It’s not that I don’t like them. It’s just some unknown health guru put it into my head years ago that over three days old, sprouts encourage the wrong kind of oestrogen production in the body. Now this could be total hogwash. Yes it probably is. But the idea that they go from “good”, wonderfully beneficial food, to “bad” still lurks in the recesses of my brain.

But then I saw Ottolenghi’s sprout salad and it was a case of either sprout my own (um, maybe, I last sprouted radish seeds in the ‘80’s) or adapt.

Instead I simplified the salad into something else. But just like my “thing” with sprouts, I’m equally obsessed with the evolution of recipes.

Just picked

Carrot and daikon salad

1 daikon, peeled and finely sliced in rounds
2 large carrots, peeled or scrubbed and finely sliced in rounds
A large handful leafy greens (watercress works well if you can find it)

Dressing

3 tabs walnut or olive oil
1 tab sherry vinegar
1 tsp grain mustard
Pinch of sea salt
(It doesn’t need pepper because daikon is spicy enough)

Whisk dressing ingredients together and toss through salad. Serve immediately.

Toasted pumpkin seeds or crispy tempeh would go nicely in this, and if you must, add a handful or two of your favourite sprouts.

spring

2011-10-13T14:47:00.003+11:00

Keeping a low profile.

The cool season veggies are bolting. Leafy greens eaten, seeds collected, plants composted.

To make way for the bevy of nightshades - tomatoes, eggplant and chilli.

Today the sun finally came out. Not flirtatiously this time but with a real sense of promise.

Am hoping the fruits of the season spin their magic, banishing the melancholy that has settled into my bones.

solstice experiment update

2011-10-04T08:24:00.002+11:00

Thanks everyone who visited Fishpond and helped me raise money for my favourite Australian charities.

Now a little over a year since I started this experiment the final amount raised through affiliate sales is $293.67. (Though it’d have been more if Fishpond didn’t halve their affiliation payment percentage halfway through!)

I’ve thrown in some of my own money to round the numbers up with a total of $400 donated as following:

$200 to the Smith Family’s Learning for Life program. I’ve long been a fan of what the Smith Family does in my own neighbourhood to break the poverty cycle.

$200 to Ian Thorpe ‘s Fountain of Youth. The Thorpedo is more than a pretty face; take a look at what he’s doing to empower learning in indigenous communities.

It’s probably no surprise that the most popular cookbook that you’ve clicked through and bought is Feel Good Food by Tony Chiodo.

But in the last couple of months there's been a surge in popularity of The Edmonds (Sure To Rise) Cookbook.

Can anyone explain this?

Being able to shop, cook and blog about good food is such a privilege. I hope I never loose sight of that fact. Thanks again for your contribution.

Previous update.

finding inspiration

2011-09-18T15:46:00.003+10:00

The secret to my sanity is a working week with hours nestled somewhere between part and full time. Having run my own business for twenty years I’m proud to say I’ve navigated two decades of self-employment with body, mind and soul more or less intact. The latest addition to my work schedule is a weekly business meeting with myself. It's comprised of a leisurely brunch somewhere different each time, with tasty food, my trusty notebook and no expectations. So far, so good. Amazing what plans can hatch with the right fuel.

breakfast special, Dench, Nth Fitzroy

Just as I’m looking at work from a different angle, my kitchen mojo has returned (no doubt helped by the recent cook-along). Two inspired experiments this week, requiring a digital note to self for future reference.

Number one needs no real recipe - just a simple risotto with new season asparagus, garlic and shallots. Towards the end of cooking I added a little lemon zest and sorrel. For the dairy tolerant some marinated soft goats cheese tossed through before serving would be perfect.

Chard and flathead pastries

Thaw some good quality puff pastry.
Set the oven to 180c.

Sauté onion and garlic in olive oil til soft
Gather your favourite leafy greens (with a garden full of rainbow chard, cavolo nero and sorrel at the moment it’s a necessity), rinse well and chop roughly.
Add to the onions and cook for til wilted. Season with sea salt and pepper.
Squeeze a little lemon juice, add some zest too if desired.

Take the mixture off the heat and allow to cool.

Chop some flathead tails. If making small parcels, you only need 3 or 4 small chunks per pastry.

Cut pastry into squares (or circles if you want cute, semi-circular pastries). Fold on the diagonal to make a triangle, open out and use the fold line to mark half of the pastry to add the filling. Leave a centimetre around the edge. Add a spoonful of the vegetable mixture and dot with chunks of fish. Fold the pastry, add a little water around the edges to help them stick and crimp together. Puncture the top of a pastry with a fork.

Bake til golden, about 20 minutes.

Singaraja market

2011-09-16T13:10:00.000+10:00

As luck would have it, despite the bungalow we stayed in being a good 5 km east of Lovina, the quiet outpost was on the same road as an excellent restaurant and cooking school. The classes are fixed price, regardless of the number of attendees. This meant Lucy and I had the delightful Putu all to ourselves, including a personalised tour of the nearby market in Singaraja. While the ingredients for our vegetarian feast were gathered, like excited children we'd point to exotic produce and ask the name, how to cook it and were treated with good humour by the local stall owners. The class was worth it for the market experience alone.

Click photos to enlarge and enjoy a brief tour of this delightful Balinese market.

Take a look at Lucy's excellent photos of our market excursion and adventures in the North.

vegan feasts

2011-09-15T13:42:00.003+10:00

What more could a dairy-allergic, non-meat eater ask for? Not one but two vegan inspired events in the same week.

The first, a vegan degustation at Embrasse, was a standout event. An evening of delightful company, well-honed hospitality and an elegant, though a tad minimal, meal where I could eat every last drop.*

As fate would have it, a small band of vegan-food loving bloggers had for months been trying to set a date to chop, cook and chat together; and four days after we’d shared a table at Embrasse we found ourselves in my kitchen.

Cindy and Michael have done a great job of documenting our Indonesian inspired vegan feast. As usual, I was too busy chatting and sipping mocktails to seriously document the day, not even photograph the rujak I made.

What I loved most was how five food bloggers wove in and out of preparing a meal together in a little kitchen. At any time, someone was chopping (usually Michael), sipping, stirring, frying or steaming. Until finally the feast was before us. Five bloggers, five hours, many dishes and wide ranging conversations. Oh yes, we all cook and we read, a winning combination.

Menu

Peanut rice chips
Chickpea cakes (mock crab cakes)
Rujak
Tahu isi (stuffed tofu)
Steamed chilli tempeh
Stuffed eggplant
Cindy’s special dessert (sticky black rice coconut ice cream vegan of course).

Mock crab cakes: chickpea and potato, veganised with cornflour and water replacing the egg.

Rujak
(This vegan version adapted from the Casa Luna cooking school – traditionally the sauce is made with shrimp paste)

2 large chillies (add a small hot one if you want more fire)
1 tab kecap manis
1-2 tab tamarind concentrate
palm sugar and sea salt (to taste)

In a mortar and pestle bash the chilli and combine with the other ingredients. Adjust the balance as necessary. The flavour should be savoury with a combination of sweet/sour/spicy/salty and umami.

Cut the fruit/vegetables of your choice into bite sized pieces. Make sure there’s some texture - crunchy/soft, as well as acidity in your selection. I used:
Pineapple
Mango
Apple
Pear
Cucumber
(Some traditional recipes include water apple).

Toss the sauce through the fruit, ideally using your hands.

See the photo of the rujak at Where’s the Beef.

Some notes from the day

The filling for the tofu and eggplant was stir-fried in coconut oil. Other than a silky mouth feel, the vegetables are delectably scented with coconut. It transforms even the most ordinary vegetables.

Tahu isi – the classic Balinese stuffed tofu, is traditionally double fried. We made this at the Warung Bambu Cooking School in Pemaron. While it’d be hard to skip the deep frying of the tofu cubes, the second dip once stuffed and covered in a light batter is a little over the top. Other than the egg issue (with our bona fide vegan in attendance), Lucy and I were keen to see how it’d work simply stuffed and steamed. A less calorific but equally as enjoyable variation. The sauce accompanying the stuffed tofu was just kecap manis and chopped chilli (and a little fried shallots as well if desired). A traditional satay sauce is an other option.

Who ever knew you could steam tempeh? Well Lisa obviously, and the chilli tempeh made a great spicy accompaniment.

My vegan food-loving cup has certainly runneth over this week. Though I'm a pescatarian with a penchant for eggs, unlike the dinner at Embrasse, the Indonesian feast left me satisfied. Well, stuffed actually.

But in a good way.

Do you ever get together for cook with friends or fellow food bloggers?

* Well almost, the incredibly bitter capsicum reduction to accompany the vegan chocolate mousse did me in. That’s one fruit I avoid at the best of times, though at least I tried it.

Ubud: taking the rough with the smooth

2011-09-06T08:51:00.006+10:00

If I was in a relationship with Ubud, Bali's so called spiritual centre, our Facebook status would undoubtedly be “it’s complicated”.

What is it about Ubud that makes me feel so out of synch with the rest of the world? On my first trip it was like being an extra on the set of Disney Bali. The art! The market! The colour! The people! The hippies doing yoga! And action!

I just didn’t dig it. In fact, after a few days I felt decidedly ill. A malady that disappeared within hours of leaving the city.

Four years later I was determined to give it another go. Call me a masochist but I felt that Lucy, on her first journey to Bali, deserved to make up her own mind about the place. For the previous two weeks we’d meandered along the road less travelled in the east and north of the island. Our soft landing in Tirta Gangga was a taste of paradise. Talumban gave us the thrill of the ocean. Lovina served up the perfect sunsets. Even Seririt, where I attended a mindfulness workshop for a week, was an unexpected a gem.

The final day and a half of our holiday landed us in the grime and heat of a city, without the benefit of a sea breeze to cool off. The noise, traffic and hoards of tourists seemed even harsher after the loveliness we’d been experiencing in the quieter parts of Bali. If there wasn't the small issue of a plane to catch the next day, I'd have hightailed it to the hills of Munduk to spend some more time in the spice groves. As that wasn't an option, I was determined to find an upside to the town.

And I did.

Ubud redeemed herself with simple warungs and a humble tailor. Nasi campur soothed my soul. While a wicked espresso bounced me into enjoying my last day in Bali. Once you head away from the central rectangle of streets ( Jalans Monkey Forest, Raya Ubud and Hanoman ), the pace is not so hectic. Far from the spiritual centre of Bali for me (give me the hills any day) but good to discover the smooth amongst the rough.

Humble eats

Warung Kyoma (off Jl Hanoman, in a street parallel to Jl Dewi Sita)
This local run, basic eatery saved us on the first day. Tired, cranky and need of a late lunch, this blue-walled place, open to the street served us simple food cooked to order. Cheaper than chips – the small plate of gado gado provided a much needed protein and veggie hit. The peanut sauce wasn’t too rich and the vegetables were fresh. Lucy’s spring rolls were served hot straight from the wok (they must have been good, ‘cos she didn’t share them). The freshly whizzed mango juice cost about AU$1.50, a bargain in this town.

No tax (often a hefty 21+% in Ubud).

Biah Biah (Jl Goutama)
This was a Lonely Planet recommendation. It didn’t look that exciting when we passed it in the afternoon but it was close to our accommodation and I was hanging out for a vego nasi campur. While a step up (albeit a small one) from our lunchtime warung, Biah Biah was also extraordinarily cheap. At night the simple restaurant is transformed by lights nestled in cane lampshades. Service was a little chaotic but the Bintang was cold and we had the perfect Chefs Table seats, peering into the small but ordered kitchen. Nasi campur didn’t disappoint. Nothing overly memorable, just good honest vegetarian dishes.

No tax.

Oka’s Warung (Jl Kageng)
Another day, another vegetarian nasi campur and yet another small, blue painted Warung. We popped in for a (tax free) juice to cool off and ended up sharing a vegetarian nasi campur, not because we were particularly hungry but once we saw a fellow patron served it, we couldn’t resist.

Unusually it came with a little bit of omelette. As always the tempeh was great. Bali is the home of tempeh and it’s quite extraordinary. We couldn’t get enough of the stuff.

No tax.

Warung Sopa (jl Sugriwa)
We stumbled across this unique, vegetarian café quite by chance but later found it mentioned on Travelfish (excellent app, you can download it cheaply and access it while you travel without being online). Japanese influenced (and likely owned) you feel confident that the food is without the usual dash of shrimp paste that most “vegetarian” sauces often have in Bali. Apart from homemade bread and miso paste for sale, the “nasi campur” is a little different. You get to choose from a daily array salads, curries and non-Balinese offerings such as a tofu falafel and samosas. Another twist is that it comes with red rice, a nice change for our last meal. Amongst my offerings I chose an excellent bitter melon and tofu salad. They checked first that I knew what it was. Yes it’s a little bitter on first tasting but pared with the excellent, slightly sweetened tempeh it was a winner.

No tax (and free wifi)..and still incredibly cheap
Check out their amusing website.

On my last visit to Ubud four years ago, I’d done the rounds of some of the more upmarket, foreign-owned restaurants such as Casa Luna and Kafe Batan Waru and while tasty, it was as if the flavour balance had been altered for a Western palate, lacking the subtlety of some of the local food. Both are still going strong. This time I craved simple pleasures. I wasn’t disappointed.

Expensive drinks

We took some afternoon refreshment at Casa Luna (Jl Raya Ubud) and nothing has changed about this place from my last visit, though the staff at the height of the tourist season weren’t as friendly and finely honed as I remembered. A coconut juice, or the excellent lime and ginger number sets you back more than a nasi campur and beer at any of the local warungs. Sometimes, in the heat of the afternoon, you just need to cool down in pleasant surroundings.

Tax++ Free wifi on request

Tutmak café (Jl Dewi Sita)
I’d gone two weeks without an espresso and on my last day I caved in. Ubud does in fact have some great coffee and the lovely local at Utama Spice responded without hesitation to our question as to the best coffee in town. Tutmak, a fair walk from the shop she apologised, was definitely her pick. Then shyly, as if a little embarrassed to admit it, she mentioned the cinnamon buns and we were sold. Ten minutes later we were in the land of great coffee, munching on a warm, fragrant pastry. Ubud didn't seem so bad after all.

Tax and Free wifi on request.

So Ubud, I forgive you. It's still not love. And still complicated. But I'll keep working on it for now.

Quickie: post-holiday dinners for one

2011-09-04T11:47:00.002+10:00

I love rice. I’ve eaten it almost everyday for weeks. I’d call myself a rice queen but that has a whole other meaning.

But sometimes I need “meat” (ok, protein) and potatoes. Simple Anglo fare. Here's a quick rundown of my post-Bali cooking this week.

1. A simple 2 egg omelette with a little onion, garlic and loads of mushroom. There’s been a tiny dab of marinated sheep’s cheese (I can tolerate a small amount if I don’t do it too often). But best of all, when just cooked, topped with fresh sorrel and folded over. So addictive and simple I made it twice in a week.

2. “Fish and chips”. Strangely been craving crumbed, fried fish. But with all the eggs recently consumed, wanted a viable alternative. While dipping fish fillets in egg is an effective way of holding lots of breadcrumbs; water, milk, even “alternative” milks do a good job.

Snapper fillets, dunked in rice milk, then tossed in a mix of masa harina (or ordinary fine cornmeal) seasoned with zaatar and salt, fried in olive oil. Perfect! Accompanied by oven roasted kipfler potatoes, carrots and sweet potato. Sensational.

3. Lots of black kale, chard, sorrel and cos lettuce, straight from the garden. Handy to come back from holiday to an empty fridge but have more fresh greens than I could poke a stick at, a mere few paces from my kitchen.

Experimented with adding finely sliced cos lettuce to a stir fry. It works just fine.

Onion, garlic, kale, smoked eel and lemon juice made an excellent pasta source.

What have you been cooking this week?

name the fruit: part two

2011-09-01T13:05:00.002+10:00

Papaya, pineapple, mango, green skinned oranges, watermelon, jackfruit, durian, mangosteen, water apple – so many fruits, so little time.

The second mystery fruit came our way in the north of Bali. At a small market in Lovina a stallholder thrust one each into our hands, demonstrating how to remove the skin. For the next week, it became a staple.

Mystery fruit #2 has a thin but robust skin, oddly reptilian in nature. Inside is a pale yellow fruit, segmented into lobes with a seed in the centre of each. The texture is pleasantly crisp. The flavour has a hint of pineapple.

This is the fruit of a palm, one of the many exotic plants we saw growing in a trek through Munduk.

Can you name the fruit?

Taken at Ubud Market (note the piece of palm tree)

Update: As Michelle and Katherine rightly guessed, this is salak. AKA snake (or snakeskin) fruit. The texture of the skin gives the name away. It's quite extraordinary. This species is undoubtedly Salak Bali (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salak).

Salak fans, have you ever cooked with it or just eat it raw, as is?

salt

2011-09-01T09:14:00.002+10:00

At Tulamben the sea greeted us. Our first couple of days on the island, spent in a mountain paradise, were sad to leave. But the first glimpse of the ocean calmed any regrets of moving on to the East of Bali. After settling into our room we wandered down to deserted beach. The black sand was dotted with fishing vessels but it turned out that the water produced more than just fish.

A few metres back from the waves sat a row of hollowed out palm trunks. (Is there anything that coconut is not used for on this island?) Though the milky liquid seemed unremarkable, the crystals clustered along the edge belied the treasure within. Salt!

A few days later in Amed, the full story of salt making was revealed. A labour intensive exercise involving carrying many heavy buckets of seawater from the shore to pools dug in the soil, sun drying, filtering the soil with more seawater, then finally drained and dried in palm troughs.

This incredible, arduous process is weather dependent. Rain being the enemy of the process. Something rather hard to avoid in the tropics. Many poor families in Bali’s East coast scrape a subsistence income during the dry season from salt making. How dull our food would be without this miracle flavour enhancer.

I’ll never look at this kitchen staple the same way again.

More on traditional Balinese salt making.

name the fruit: part one

2011-08-29T15:03:00.005+10:00

Ah Bali! What's not to love about nasi goreng for breakfast, eating your body weight in gado gado and the wonderful surprises found in nasi campur? Lucy and I spent two weeks grazing our way around the East and North of this wonderful, tropical island. Posts will follow (including the best spot for authenti vegan nasi campur in Ubud) when head, body and mind are reassembled in the correct time zone.

But first. I saw (and sampled) many wondrous fruits and herbs that I've never experienced before. This competition has no prize but feel free to have a stab at naming this mystery fruit.

And on the tree.

1. Name the fruit.
2. Describe the flavour.

Go on, have a go.

If you grew up eating the mystery fruit, can you tell us a little more about what you used it for.

Update: Michelle and Celeste were spot on with "rose apple" and "jambus". The locals in the north of Bali call is "water apple".

The plant is from the Myrtaceae family, of the genus Syzgium. Not sure exactly which one.

The fruit we ate was pale with a rosy blush. The skin thin and waxy.

Tasting notes: This pale variety was crispy and slightly tart. Though it looked like it would be dry, it was slightly juicy and the flavour had a hint of tonic water. If I was a gin drinker I'd say it would be the perfect garnish for a G&T.

Texture wise, I'd imagine it would go well in a salad. A substitute for a crispy pear perhaps?

Have you ever cooked with water apple?

not there yet...

2011-08-11T12:06:00.003+10:00

But almost.

Will be offline for a couple of weeks. The mountains, beaches, infinity pools, meditation sessions, massages, sunsets, paddy fields, friendships and, of course, wonderful meals awaiting!

land of the long yellow banana

2011-08-02T07:18:00.004+10:00

Family, rather than food, is the focus of my short hops across the Tasman these days. But in the couple of decades I've been doing the commute, Wellington has increasingly embraced a burgeoning food culture. So while, thanks to the recent Masterchef episode, the delights of Logan Brown and Martin Bosley’s are high on visiting food bloggers lists, my dining choices are a tad more humble.

The star of the recent visit however, was not home grown.

Even at the foodie Mecca, Moore Wilsons, this golden import seemed ridiculously cheap to a banana-starved Aussie. We managed to chomp through a kilo or two of the fruit in a couple of days.

Also at Moore Wilsons we picked up a few bottles of the extraordinary Lake Sylvan rhubarb flavoured mineral water. This hard to get non-alcoholic treat is one of the best I’ve ever tasted. It’s worth a trip for this drink alone. The walnut and ginger slice (from Janus Bakery, I think) was another sweet treat we loved. Dare I say it, but I think it may have been better than my mother ever made!

At the Lido café (opposite the visitors centre in the CBD), I sampled one of the best kedgerees to date. Though not entirely traditional with the addition of a tomatoey condiment, it was a stand out. And a huge serve to boot. The Lido has served the test of time, being one of the first in the late ‘80s café resurgence. The coffee is great and the staff friendly.

In recent years, good food has begun to infiltrate the suburbs. With excellent bays and harbour views, waterside residential areas just a short hop from the city have come into their own. Apart from the excellent Maranui café, Lyall Bay is also home to Elements. This is a frequent family lunch spot, though not hugely vegetarian friendly, the food is consistently good. My elderly father drives across town for their lambs fry and bacon, but it’s not stuck in a time warp. The Significant Eater had a spectacular poached coconut chicken salad, while I tend to stick to a vego modified big breakfast.

But the emerging star of the New Zealand food scene has to be the impressive variety of beverages on offer these days. Forget the Sauvignon Blanc (yes please) and the boutique beers, it’s the alcohol-free stuff that continues to impress. While the previously mentioned Lake Sylvan mineral water is hard to get, most cafes still offer a tempting variety of locally made drinks. Hardie Boys dry ginger beer is always my first choice but the Aroha elderflower based Sparkles caught my attention. Great to see wildcrafted herbs on the menu!

Despite it being midwinter, Wellington shone on this trip. The flight into the capital city showed off the snow capped Southern Alps in their full glory and against the odds the sun shone every day.

mushroom identification

2011-07-23T13:57:00.003+10:00

When the mist cleared this morning, there were no gorillas.

Only 'shrooms.

With the garden bed rebuilt with a tonne of mushroom compost the odd fungi popping up is inevitable.

Can anyone tell me what they are and whether they are safe to eat?

...and finally a recipe, my ambivalent relationship with pasta meets my love of smoked eel

2011-07-18T07:54:00.002+10:00

I groan when I read pasta recipes. And not in a good way.

Pasta is my junk food. It’s the meal of least resistance, code for – I’m tired and I want something to fill me up and in my tummy in 15 minutes.

When I was an accidental vegetarian (I’d stopped eating meat but couldn’t afford fish), too often the unimaginative and nutritionally negligent spaghetti Napoli was the only menu item on offer. I grew resentful of pasta and the arrogant chefs who made it their only vegetarian item.

But I digress. The following dish is neither boring nor vegetarian. It is deliciousness personified and has earned it’s place as one of the few pasta recipes on this blog.

Leek and smoked eel pasta
(Serves 2)

Pasta spirals

Olive oil
1 large leek, sliced in 2-3cm lengths
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1-2 tsp lemon zest
1 tab capers
8 cornichons (that’s mini gherkins to you Bridget Jones), roughly sliced
Large handful parsley, roughly chopped
1/2 a smoked eel, sliced into bite sized chunks
lemon juice
black pepper

In a large pan on low heat, slow cook the leeks in olive oil until soft. Ideally, cover a heavy fry pan and cook on a heat diffuser mat for about 30 minutes. While that gets underway prepare your eel. When the leeks are half cooked, add the garlic. Now put on the pasta (gluten-free of course). In the time it takes to prepare the pasta, turn your attention back to the pan. Add the cornichons, capers, parsley and lemon zest to the leeks. Cook for a couple of minutes and then stir in the eel. Add a squeeze of lemon juice and a few grounds of black pepper, then stir though the cooked pasta.

The leek and eel combination is loose enough to moisten the pasta. Hold your horses with the salt, the smoked eel negates the need to add any. All up, this is a delicious, fragrant pasta dish, that boots the ubiquitous Napoli back into the sea.

calling Time Team: vegetables from the Iron Age

2011-07-14T08:29:00.001+10:00

Spied at Vic Market last week.

I know beans are out of season at the moment but this trader's managed to source some from the Iron Age. Hate to imagine the food miles for that.

better late than never: macarons are not macaroons

2011-07-13T08:04:00.005+10:00

I spend too many lunchtimes sitting in the window of Sushi Monger gazing out at the French bakery opposite. When I’m not imagining a flash mob breaking into song in an attempt to make the morose sushi man crack a smile (a hot topic on twitter) I’m desperately attempting to resist the urge to march across the laneway to protest at the patisserie. Surely they’d be laughed out of their homeland if they displayed a sign proudly boasting the myriad of flavours their “macaroons” come in.

I thought they only come in one?

The bakery is not alone, it’s a common mistake. Just the other day I was entombed in a waiting room with no phone for amusement and forced to read out of date Women’s Weekly’s. The 2010 edition I glanced at celebrated the “macaroon” and, you guessed it, there wasn’t a skerrick of coconut to be seen.

An artist after my own heart has taken the macaron/macaroon debacle a step further and turned it into an art form. Though published last year, I only found it on a recent expedition to the Sticky Institute, despite multiple visits to the illustrious zine cave in the meantime.

It’s a joyous (and unusually long) collection of memoir, recipes and collage by Becksley Felix celebrating the misrepresented crunchy sweet treat. Proving her stripes as a macaron aficionado, she comes to the conclusion that Duncan is the seminal authority on the subject. Though strangely, he’s not even seen the zine. (Hint @Becksley you might like to send one to him).

At a ridiculously low price of $4 Macarons Are Not Macaroons is a humourous and informative read. There were rumours of a sequel. Anyone seen it?

Not in Melbourne? The zine is still available via the Sticky Institute’s mail department.

While new to me, this zine has received a heap of mentions elsewhere, including:
Eat, Drink, Stagger complete with the ganache debate and comments from the zine’s author.

Happiness is a warm Simon Gray.

the time when masterch*f humbled me

2011-07-02T11:34:00.003+10:00

My facebook feed featured a fellow Wellingtonian adrift in Melbourne lamenting how last night's Masterchef (Friday Masterclass) made her homesick.

Figured a MC episode shot in my hometown was worth breaking my program ban.

Here's a taste of some of my favourite cafes in Wellington...

...and yes it's very cold there in winter.

(p.s. sweetie it's Floraditas, not Florantinas.)

the winter solstice experiment

2011-06-24T12:25:00.002+10:00

Twelve months ago I started an experiment on this site. To celebrate the winter solstice I shared some of my favourite healthy cookbooks and linked them to an online bookstore with affiliate sales, to raise money for a couple of my favourite charities. Some of you joined in and I added your suggestions to the list. Around summer solstice I updated the list and added a new donor.

So what did we raise for The Smith Family’s Learning for Life and Ian Thorpe’s Fountain of Youth? The princely sum is $286.53, which would have been more if Fishpond hadn’t halved its affiliate rate earlier this year. I’ve thrown in some bucks of my own and rounded it up to $400 in total.

I’m still on the lookout for healthy cookbooks – especially vegetarian ones that are simple to follow and don’t rely heavily on dairy or wheat. I’m also curious as to where you turn to for inspiration cooking seafood and if you have any vegetable gardening books that ring your bell.

The healthy cookbook roundup

Here’s the list, with a few new favourites added since the last update. Anything else you'd add to the list?

Veganomicon: The Ultimate Vegan Cookbook has been popular with those who went shopping on Fishpond.

Melbourne’s own Flip Shelton’s latest offering Veg In: Simple Vegetarian Dishes from Around the World ticked all my boxes.

How to Cook Everything: Simple Meatless Recipes for Great Food: Vegetarian
I'm a big fan of Mr Bittman and I think this book is an absolute ripper for techniques and good vegetarian recipes.

Eastern Vegetarian Cooking
This is probably my most tattered cookbook attesting to how often I've used it. Madhur taught me how to make dolmades, roll sushi and cook tasty simple dishes with pulses and grains. It's a cheap book and written for the British who've traditionally not been known for their cookery skills - so it is also suitable for beginners.

Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian: An Unrivalled Sourcebook of Over 600 Recipes and Ingredients from All Over the Globe
This is newer than my all time favourite and not limited to Eastern cuisine. It's the pick of one of my oldest vegetarian friends.

The Cook's Companion
This might be too ambitious for a newbie but for those building some cooking confidence she covers basic techniques well but what makes this book a star for me is the list of other foods that the featured ingredients goes with.

The Kitchen Diaries: A Year in the Kitchen
If Nigel Slater was straight, and I believed in marriage, I'd tie the knot with this bloke because I like his writing so much. Wasn't Toast: The Story of a Boy's Hunger one of the best foodie memoirs ever written? I've included a couple of Slater books because not only is he a joy to read, his recipes are easy to follow and I figure for those who enjoy eating meat, you can't go better than his chicken roast.

Real Cooking
More Slater love!

Feel Good Food
Another local chef/food writer to be proud of. Great macro inspired recipes.

The Asian Vegan Kitchen: Authentic and Appetizing Dishes from the Continent of Rich Flavors
Lisa's pick.

Jam Today: A Diary of Cooking with What You've Got
Lucy's pick.

The Yoga Cookbook: Vegetarian Food for Body and Mind
Zoe's pick.

Edmonds Cookery Book
Ok not a health book but I was cruising the site and came across it. Other than my mother's tuition, the Edmonds ("Sure To Rise") cookbook was the one that taught me how to make afghan biscuits and fairy cakes.

And for those who like a serve a politics with their food

The Omnivore's Dilemma: The Search for a Perfect Meal in a Fast-food World
An eye-opening read, without the sledge-hammer approach of some other authors of the genre.

In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto
You can't get enough of "the thinking woman's crumpet".

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: Our Year of Seasonal Eating
Barbara Kingsolver's journey into the locavore lifestyle never goes out of season.

Give a little

Don’t forget it’s only a couple of days until the end of the financial year, wouldn’t you prefer to give your favourite charity a few dollars and be able to claim some of that back on tax?

Coffee and art: a wet weekend in Newcastle

2011-06-16T12:11:00.005+10:00

I came to wander around the foreshore but ended up hiding out in cafes and bookshops. All is not lost when the rain buckets down on the 9th best city in the world.

I’ll be honest, when I hit the Newcastle CBD early on a drizzly Saturday afternoon I wondered if the city was closed for the weekend. When the first of the recommended cafes came into sight I brightened. One Penny Black gets repeated mention in social media for the best coffee in Newcastle. Barely bigger than a hole in the wall, it’d be more at home in a Melbourne laneway than a rather sad looking mall. The food also hit the spot. Though the menu is limited to mainly toasties, they had a better than average vegan offering of falafel on toast with hommos, rocket and sweet chilli sauce. It worked.

The coffee was good.

Just above OPB, one of the many Renew Newcastle initiatives has set up shop. Currently showing at the ARThive gallery is Art Vandelay: an exhibition about nothing, a quirky homage to Seinfeld group show. I loved the stuffed dolls depicting the main characters.

For an art loving visitor artist run initiatives are a boon. It means there’ll always be an artist on hand to pick their brains for local knowledge. The exhibitor at ARThive sent us up the road to the Lock Up to catch the end of an artist talk and exhibition. Happily Ever After explores female narratives within the fairy tale genre. This group show covers a variety of media, including some exquisite artists books. The exhibition will be touring later in the year so keep an eye on the blog for details. It’s worth a look.

The Lock-up museum documents both the inmates and the police who locked them up. The Dickensian cells were in use ‘til the early 1980’s. Some are now incorporated into the gallery space but the padded cell is a statement in itself. Not for the claustrophobic.

Just opposite the Cultural Centre we spied a Balinese Restaurant. The friendly people at the surf shop next door gave it the thumbs up, so it was earmarked for dinner later that night. Bali Corner smelt great, a sure sign that fragrant fresh herbs are used rather than pre-made substitutes. Actually it was the aroma wafting from the closed restaurant that made me want to come back. The owner/chef chatted to me as I eyed up the menu on the door, she’s the real deal and I’m happy we trekked back up Hunter Street once the sun went down. We sampled some prawn and corn fritters, fish cakes (more Thai in flavour than Indonesian), a steamed fish curry (great flavour and presentation but a little over cooked) and the omnivore ate something meaty. The food was good, though Warung Agus in Melbourne sets a higher bar. Sadly we’d headed off without an umbrella and the clouds had opened. Once there was a break in the deluge we didn’t linger and set off at a fast to walk back to our hotel.

The plan had been to leisurely wander back via the waterfront, have a drink by the water and make it a late night. Oh well. Maybe next time.

Another recommendation for coffee and food was “anywhere in Darby Street”. Like a mini-Brunswick Street, the road connects the CBD with the inner suburb of Cooks Hill. It’s a short walk from Hunter Street. There was a good selection of cafes to choose from but we headed for another pick from a friendly local (can you see a trend here? All the Novocastrians we met were delightful and helpful). Grind was packed but we managed to nab the last table as the torrential rain ramped up once more. It’s cosy inside and the staff did a great job at delivering service with a smile and efficiency. The architecture and layout in Newcastle reminded me a lot of Wellington but it was the cafes that nailed the connection. Almost every breakfast menu had fritters of some sort. As I can’t pass up a taste of home, I opted for the corn and shallot fritters and wasn’t disappointed. The waitress helped me vegetarian-ise the order, swapping bacon for mushrooms, but it didn’t need the additional side as the fritters, stacked with crushed avocado and tomatoes, were whoppers. We lingered in the warmth over a second excellent cup of coffee and headed out into the damp once more.

Darby Street is dotted with independent stores, including the whimsical Blackbird Corner. It’s a handmade haven packed with clothes, magazines, jewellery, cards, decorations and Lomo cameras. Pop in and chat to the delightful owners and buy yourself a treat from the reasonable priced goods on offer.

But when it came to bargains, a second hand store down the road won the prize. We got lost in the shelves of Cooks Hill Books and Records for over an hour. A great mix of quality recently released novels, genre fiction and non-fiction. Oh and they have vinyl too. Judy Garland for $5? Yes thank you very much. The shop flows through a number of rooms but is well displayed, not overwhelming like some second hand book stores. I have to wait for my stash of books (including a 1930s British Grocers handbook) to arrive when the Significant Eater drives south next week, as my carry-on only baggage couldn’t fit them.

Opposite the Queen Street entrance to the shop is the rear of the Newcastle Regional Art Gallery. Their exhibitions were the jewel in the crown of our art crawl. A well proportioned gallery, big enough to spend an hour or two but not so large you have to bolt through the shows to see everything. Currently on display are two collections of Australian art, both studded with gems, Citizen Collectors and Laverty 2. These included works by Richard Larter, Patricia Piccinini and Rosalie Gascoigne, as well as some stunning indigenous art.

Outside the rain continued to pour and the drains over-flowed. Time to hit the road for Sydney, with promises to return. But perhaps, next time, it will be in summer.

Don’t go to Newcastle without:

Printing off the Renew Newcastle map to inform your art and craft crawl.

Flicking through the Novocastrian Files, a great blog chronicling the best of indie Newcastle. The interviewees’ favourite places to eat, drink and shop are also a wonderful resource.

Visit

One Penny Black
111 Hunter Street, Newcastle

ARThive Gallery
1/111 Hunter Street, Newcastle

The Lock-up Cultural Centre
90 Hunter Street, Newcastle

Bali Corner
95 Hunter St, Newcastle

Grind Coffee Co
127 Darby St, Cooks Hill

Blackbird Corner
90 Darby St, Cooks Hill

Cooks Hill Books and Records
72 Darby St, Cooks Hill

Newcastle Regional Art Gallery
Laman Street Newcastle

The meaty business of turning vegetarian

2011-06-03T14:23:00.007+10:00

The biggest stir round these parts has been the Four Corners documentary on Monday, exposing the inhumane practices inflicted on animals due to live exports. As a result there are a lot of omnivores who've been put off eating meat.

The problem, nutritionally, is it's not just about dropping the meat. There's a whole heap of misinformation about vegan and vegetarian diets. So if you're a bit confused about sorting fact from fiction - check out this simple guide to becoming vegetarian.

If you've taken the plunge and experimenting with a meat-free diet - the majority of recipes on this site fit the bill. Just start cruising the "vegetarian" box on the drop down menu on the right side of this page.

For cooking in and eating out in Melbourne (and beyond) start with Cindy and Michael's delightful blog Where's the Beef?. These guys are responsible for the addictive soy bombs being made in every vego house in the city!

Heidi Swanson's cookbooks and blog 101 Cookbooks are a goldmine of wonderful recipes. Her generous site allows you to search for meal ideas by ingredient and she's formatted the recipes so they can be easily printed.

My two favourite local cookbooks (yes, I've mentioned them before) are Flip Shelton's Veg In, perfect for beginners and those converting to vegetarian food (full of vego "take away" recipes) and Tony Chiodo's Feel Good Food. Both make perfect gifts for those who've seen the light about live exports but don't quite know how to make the transition to a more meat-free diet.

Happy cow-free eating!

writing in the margins: vandalism or interactivity?

2011-05-30T10:29:00.001+10:00

I come from a family that has a certain reverence for the written word. My father begins his day worshipping the newspaper. It’s now delivered at 5 am and I swear the early drop off is the cause of his insomnia. He can’t bear to think of all that paper and ink sitting out on the drive in the cold.

Books are even more holy. In our house you’ll find no dog-eared pages and never, ever has a book taken to be read in the toilet!

But contrary to the unwritten lores of my family, in recent years my father has begun defacing books. I can only imagine the inner struggle that must go on between the Virgoan twin desires of neatness and utter righteousness. One day I noticed one of the many tombs on his beloved national park had been sullied with his unmistakable handwriting. He’d taken a pen and annotated every single mistake the author made, neatly in the margin.

Coming across a defaced book in the house was a revelation. I didn’t know you were allowed to write in the margins. It was as if the world had tilted slightly. My father had become so incensed with the authors inaccuracies, that correcting them was the only option. He did not, as far as I know, actually send the notes back to the publisher. Instead the book just continues to sit innocently amongst others on the subject.

Though last month that changed. During my trip home my father handed me two foolscap pages of corrections for a different book. This one was written about the town he grew up in. Instead of sullying the edition he’d decided to send them directly to body that had commissioned the work. Each mistake was noted by quotation, page number and the correction supplied, often with references from his archive – including old copies of his high school’s own journal. From the 1940s. Page numbers included.

So this morning, lying in bed (an indescribably wonton act on a Monday morning while the rest of the world toils), I glanced at a new “healthy” cookbook I’d picked up from the local library. I was surprised to read that the author was Australian and alumni of my own profession, as I’d never heard of her.

I was only a couple of pages in and a photo showed seedling of “coz” lettuce. Not a good start. The following page spruiked the wonders of agave syrup. I checked the publishing date, 2010. No excuses because by then this highly promoted wonder food had since been relegated to the “almost as bad as high fructose corn syrup” department by most of the authors peers. And spriulina? Surely that’s not still doing the rounds in the 21st century?

Like father, like daughter - I was already itching to pick up men pen and write a few references in the margin. But it’s the fourth recipe that did me in. It’s one for rhubarb and guess what doesn’t feature in the ingredients list? Aha, rhubarb. With 4/5 of the book yet to explore, should I just take a chill pill and take it back unsullied to the library.

So here’s the deal. Do I throw the baby out with the bath water? There are some good recipes and health information amongst the inaccuracies. Should they go through to the keeper? It’s one thing to annotate in the margin if your own cookbooks. Because as far as recipes are concerned, the notes of your own experiences, the temperature and timing of your own oven, varying the amounts for your own palate – to me adds to the value of a cookbook.

Illegible teenage scrawl in my Moosewood cookbook. Indeed the sour cream cheesecake is pretty damn good subbed with tofu. Must make it again soon.

But should you deface a library book? In pen? In pencil? Is this bringing the interactivity of new media to an old format? Or is it just vandalism.

I’m leaning towards sticky notes. What do you reckon?

report from the trenches

2011-05-29T12:37:00.005+10:00

With a spate of chilly, grey and wet weather I’ve given up and succumbed to hibernation. The garden is barely noticed, dull light deters photography and my cooking has been almost as inspiring as the weather.

But eat? Yes thanks, starch, starch and more starch. Hijacked by a primitive brain that anticipates a winter famine.

Potatoes: roasted, fried or jacket. Forkfuls of fluffy, warm goodness.
Rice noodles: with stir fried vegetables and crispy strips of tempeh, almost candied with kecap manis.
Delicious vegan burgers and hand cut chips.

Oh yes!

Between showers, it's too cold and wet to garden with any real gusto. The cos lettuce is growing very nicely, the odd bug dropping by for a snack but there are plenty of leaves left for me to consume. The cavolo nero has been visited by the sneaky little cabbage butterflies and is requiring some manual grub squashing. Fortunately they’re not interested in the rainbow chard and it’s slowly doing its thing but waiting for a little more warmth before it will take off. Strawberries are surviving, even with the odd flower and fruit, though this cold snap will surely put the end to that unseasonal folly.

The seed project has had mixed success. The spring onions are hanging in there but the coriander has grown so slowly that I’ve bought some seedlings in frustration. Parsley has been the only no show, so that’s also been purchased.

Newly added are a row each of heirloom carrots and parsnips, as well as garlic (that’s already sprouting), sorrel and garlic chives.

How’s your patch looking?

Rather dull photos, it’s soooooo grey here in Melbourne at the moment.

simple

2011-05-23T10:16:00.000+10:00

The past month has been about:

Stir fries…tofu, tempeh or egg as protein plus finely sliced, julienned or half mooned vegetables. Rice noodles always a favourite. Tamari, kecap manis and fish sauce on rotation as flavouring.

Soups…easy red lentil served with fish sauce, chilli and a squeeze of lime juice.

Fish fillets cooked the way I was taught at primary school…fresh gurnard in a foil parcel with slices of lemon, salt, pepper and nothing else. Cooked at 175c for 11 minutes. I’d forgotten how good it tastes.

Autumn fruits…feijoas, tamarillos and persimmons.

Out…not often but well chosen..an intimate dinner at The Commoner (the most amazing mushroom coated version of a scotch egg, not on the menu but offered as a vegetarian option)…two vegan burgers to choose from at the Tramways plus the best hand cut chips.

Purchased…a beautiful, large ceramic bowl from a local potter. Big enough to fit a swag of fruit.

Nothing fancy. Just keeping calm and carrying on.

television chefs: the real deal

2011-05-14T17:50:00.005+10:00

While dissing the current crop of reality TV cooking programs, I mentioned in passing a kiwi classic. Now for you viewing pleasure I give you a taste of Graham Kerr. Yes, it's a bit meaty but keep in mind this episode was shot in 1966. No, I didn't watch it first time round.

It's worth watching both episodes. The whole show is entirely ad libbed, with Graham answering questions from a "live" studio audience. I almost cried with homesickness listening to the accents of the good Wellington housewives.

He really was a charming devil, who tried his best to bring haute cuisine to the culinary desert.

Please enjoy - The Graham Kerr Show.

vegging in after popping out

2011-05-12T09:04:00.000+10:00

I've been across the Tasman for a while. My mother was moved recently to a nursing home after a fall. Do you know how difficult it is, in a small city, to get care for someone with dementia who is not mobile? The good news is she's walking again, shuffling and sometimes falling but hopefully that means she can stay where she is. Anyway, long story short, I've not been cooking much of late. So excuse this little cheat, a post I've made elsewhere on the net, tweaked a little for you reading pleasure.

For many years my favourite part of waking up on a Monday was listening to Flip Shelton talk about food on RRR. I miss her vibrant recipes and triathalon updates. I loved her first cookbook Green (now sadly out of print) and have been waiting eagerly for her next publication.

Veg In: Simple Vegetarian Dishes from Around the World is a nifty book of easy to prepare “takeaways” made cheaply and healthily at home. She promises the recipes will save you money, calories and even time. From Greek dolmades to Japanese tempura, Flip sets out simple ways to recreate your favourite vegetarian dishes, as well as innovative baked potato and pizza toppings.

Veg In is a simple but effective cookbook. The recipes are uncomplicated, perfect for novices and under confident cooks. The recipes aren’t rocket science and won’t take all day to prepare. Being written by a Melburnian is an added bonus as all the ingredients are easy to source locally.

This cookbook is ideal for someone who’d like to extend their vegetarian repertoire, omnivores wanting to diversify their diet (or choosing to practice Meatless Mondays) and those newly “converted” to vegetarianism. The majority of dishes are vegan-friendly and many are also gluten-free.

My only criticism of the book is that it has no index, so you can't hunt by recipe or ingredient. I found this rather frustrating and hope if the book gets a second print run that this problem will be remedied. Veg In is probably not for the gourmet cook, for those more accomplished in the kitchen wanting to expand their vegetarian range my pick would be Feel Good Food

Veg In: Simple Vegetarian Dishes from Around the World by Flip Shelton (Wakefield Press, RRP $29.95)

See Lucy's review of Veg In and one of Flip's recipes.

tuning out

2011-05-02T08:09:00.004+10:00

This post was originally published in May 2009. I've just polished it off and filed it under:

Why I'm not watching MasterChef

I’ve been more than lukewarm about the latest hyped reality television show – MasterChef. I love food, like cooking but I’ve known enough chefs to get an inkling of just how tough being an actual chef really is. Hospitality has nightmare working hours, inhospitable conditions and should carry a health warning for both body and soul. Boudain’s , Kitchen Confidential wasn’t a piece of fiction. Yet despite this brave soul’s brave all to follow their passion, get paid ridiculously low wages and sign up for apprenticeships to become chefs. Good on them.

Celebrity chefs/cooks are not a new phenomena. Graham Kerr, The Galloping Gourmet, first started broadcasting in 1959 and no one can forget Julia Childs. Both were more television personalities who cooked rather than classically apprenticed, restaurant chefs. Kerr’s parents owned hotels (as did Jamie Oliver’s) and his first job was in management rather than the kitchen. Childs took herself off to Le Cordon Bleu to study and started teaching cooking classes. So perhaps considering the lineage of television “chefs”, it is not so crazy to turn a home cook into an overnight media sensation, with a little training in technique and a lot of PR.

Celebrity chefs are an extension of the “food porn” industry, complete with glossy cookbooks, Nigella pouts and Oliver wannabes bashing herbs into submission. Food is sexy, so by extension are those linked to it. Even oversized, cravat wearing food critics. Reality television is the home of the overnight sensation, so our current obsession with food and watching Ms Average getting all teary on telly is an obvious hit. However when it comes to those who actually go into the industry the old fashioned way, the reality is most chefs don’t even get a guest spot on Ready, Steady, Cook, no matter how well they cook.

Masterchef will not turn these home cooks into chefs. There’s not enough graft or training to do that. I doubt if any in the top 20 (or more than a handful of the 7,000 hopefuls who auditioned for the show) would be prepared to swap a future in the law, their current established career or at the age of 40-something actually choose to step onto the bottom rung of the commercial kitchen hierarchy. What attracts people to the gig is fame and fortune, book signings and the odd gig demonstrating a dish. Will any end up in a restaurant kitchen and if they do could they stick it out? I find it very doubtful.*

My food nazi moment for the week was the episode that was actually of interest to anyone who has a passion for cooking, rather than the soapy storyline the series is trying to spin. This week featured an actual masterclass, a down to earth "here is how you make restaurant food" demonstration. Four simple dishes - some lamb (a great basic intro for carnivores), mash, eggy bread (fantastic loved that one) and a simple though creamy chocolate mousse. For me this was the standout of the whole series. In fact, can we cut the hype, jettison the star making, drop the amateur dramatics and just have Gary and George do some simple cooking demos? No cravat wearing critics need apply.

But the genius of adding lemon zest to French toast aside, the health abiding person in me loved the reality-check moment when Gary made mash (or pomme puree, if you prefer). Just watching the skinny, food loving female contestants faces when he threw in the stick of butter was fantastic. Yes this is what restaurant food is all about. Bourdain didn’t just dish the dirty of the secret life of kitchen staff but he drove home the message to readers that the amount of butter in traditional chef-cuisine is literally heart stopping and don’t forget – never order the fish on a Monday!

But back to the heart stopping pomme puree. The spud cooking technique was brilliant – whole jacked potatoes cooked at 160c for 2 hours, baked on a bed of sea salt to draw out the moisture. But wait here comes the butter. The demo showed Gary throwing in 100gms per spud, with an extra dollop for luck plus some whole milk for good measure.

In nutrition terms that worked out to over 720 calories/3000 kilojoules of 80% fat butter, in each modest serve of mash – over a third of your daily food requirements in the side dish alone. Nowhere on this site have you seen the dreaded word “kilojoule” before. It is a cold hard technical term, not sexy and definitely not part of the vernacular of food porn. But “reality” television in its truest sense has driven me to it.

So, the take home message. If you have any respect for your health – skip the mash. Go for a steamed potato, even by comparison a scant handful of chips doesn’t look so bad.

But most of all, stick to being a cook, just use a modest splash of fat in your mash at home. Even if this won’t bring the dreamed of book deal you hanker for, you might live long enough to achieve a whole lot more.

* 2011 update: A couple of seasons into the Masterchef phenomena we are yet to see any contestant in the final cut to hack a traditional apprenticeship. Two notables from the first season have by-passed the basics and on gone straight to opening a restaurant, though don’t seem to handle criticism well. Injera has an update on what some of the MC alumni are doing now.

works in progress 3: planting

2011-04-24T14:07:00.003+10:00

In the house of pesky illness, the kitchen has been rather underutilized of late. Oh local takeaways let me count the ways - tom yum, curry laksa, bean curd and vegetables....

Fortunately raising seedlings only requires a warm spot and a bit of water every couple of days. The perfect hobby for a convalescent.

In a sunny spot in the shed the second lot of spring onion seedlings are coming along and the coriander is sprouting. Haven't given up on the parsley yet, I've been told it takes a while to burst into life.

Once the seedlings have got a little growth pop directly into the earth, cardboard and all.

Have bought some cos lettuce, black cabbage and rainbow chard seedlings ready to be planted. Just need a wee lie down first.

works in progress 2: garden ready to go

2011-04-17T12:57:00.002+10:00

Last weekend, just before the wet stuff fell in bucket loads from the sky, we rebuilt the itty-bitty inner city garden bed.

It took half a truck of mixed mushroom and organic compost, two people and a couple of shovels, to load 50-odd wheel barrows full of the lovely compost to rebuild the depleted bed.

An hour or two later, nicely topped with 4 bales of lucerne, we could sit back and admire the work.

(yes I really will cover the blue board one day, I prefer to garden/cook/eat than undertake DIY projects)

Some of the strawberries went straight back in but stage two of planting will hopefully get done over easter. I have a well established cardamom that will sit in that hard to reach middle spot, atop a sadly growing cat cemetery.

Meanwhile the seed raising experiment is having some success a mere week after starting. The spring onions have sprouted and almost ready to go into the ground. Then I'll start another batch, to stagger the crop. Still waiting for the parsley and coriander to show signs of life but I have faith they'll do their job.

Has anyone grown turmeric? Some uneaten tubers have sprouted in the bowl in the kitchen. Do they grow as big as ginger? Not sure the little patch can take it but I might give it a go.

Next silverbeet (‘cos it’s nutritious, delicious and foolproof to grow), lettuces and the odd brassica.

Speaking of gardens. Take 12 minutes and watch this delightful video about gardening and life.

This woman is amazing. Not sure when the piece was made but considering she was born in the 1880's I'm pretty sure it was shot on film. I loved the calming muted colours and clarity of birdsong throughout.

Parts of this originally posted elsewhere.

kitchen alchemy: preserved green chilies

2011-04-10T09:48:00.005+10:00

What to do with one hundred odd fiery green chilies prematurely plucked from the garden?

This year's chili plant is producing hot as hell, small curly beasts. Sadly it's been exiled from the garden bed for routine maintenance and I've been left with the aforementioned bowl of green firecrackers.

Last autumn I used Christina's recipe to preserve the last of the season's red chilies. The jar has seen me through the winter, dipping into it whenever a recipe calls for fresh chili. Though now I look for the link I cannot find it, aint that always the way. No problem, it's a simple technique and I'd even scrawled the ingredients on the label.

On the jar I'd written:
Very hot chilies
garlic
salt
vinegar

And folks - that's about as complex as this recipe needs to be. No need for precise measurements and you can even skip the garlic if you like. The most important thing to remember is to keep the mixture covered in vinegar.

Chilies preserved in vinegar

Step 1: Wash and towel dry the fresh chiles.
Step 2: Cut off stalks and discard any damaged fruit.
Step 3: In a small (or large if you're doing a big batch) food processor add the chilies, a few peeled cloves of garlic and a teaspoon.

Add a tablespoon or two of vinegar and blend.

Step 4: Decant into a clean air tight jar, top with vinegar and keep refridgerated.

When your recipe calls for chili, just grab a spoon and add straight from the jar. No slicing, dicing or painful chili-on-the-finger accidents!

works in progress

2011-04-08T07:59:00.005+10:00

How can you not love autumn? After a sodden summer, we're being treated to balmy days with sun aplenty. Even after nightfall the warmth has pervaded, into golden evenings.

Yesterday we ordered a couple of cubic metres of compost to build up the garden bed, as it's dropped a good 30 cm since we first built in. In preparation for the arrival it meant an afternoon of pulling out the disappointing tomato crop and transplanting any surviving herbs and strawberry plants. Awful timing all round. The strawberries had just begun shooting off runners and the lovely hot chili plant was in full production. Who knows if they'll survive the disruption.

A quick pruning landed a bowl of (mostly) green chilies, to either be preserved in vinegar or whipped into a green harissa paste.

I also started raising some seedlings. Will see if this summer's seed saving experiment worked. With luck these toilet rolls will sprout spring onions, parsley and coriander...if I remember to water them.

How does your garden grow?

lunch - one that got away

2011-04-03T17:19:00.004+10:00

Last time I ate at Ume I arrived too late for my favourite scattered sushi and reverted to my previous lunch order of vegetable tempura.

As the previous post mentioned I find this way too much food to get through but skipping the rice makes it a little easier. Just found on old iphone shot of aforementioned meal.

The vegetable tempura bento: Miso soup, 5 pieces of freshly fried vegetable tempura, 2 cubes tofu, carrot/mayo based salad, 1 vegetarian nori roll, rice and dipping sauce. The photo doesn't do it justice, it's way bigger than it looks.

Still on the look out for CBD lunchtime haunts that are pescatarian/vego friendly, filling enough to get me through to a late finish at work and not sandwich based.

refreshment break

2011-03-31T08:40:00.003+11:00

Time to take a short break while life whirls on around me. My head and a heart are in NZ with my family at the moment, though the rest of me remains on the other side of the Tasman.

While I'm contemplating the universe and the complexities of aged care, help yourself to a drink. This one's for the kiwis. Not the ever popular L&P but a family favourite from my childhood.

Camroc was a dry ginger ale, popular in New Zealand in the twentieth century.

In our house, where soft drinks were a rare treat, camroc was reserved for when we were ill. Being bought a small glass of camroc, by mum, while languishing in bed with a malady made being sick worth it. If camroc didn't bouy our spirits, she knew something was desperately wrong.

Click to enlarge. An ad for Camroc, (Wellington's) Evening Post, 1913

Does anyone know when and why Camroc went out of production? Sorely missed by at least one Wellington family.

the art of the chalkboard

2011-03-28T17:00:00.003+11:00

In hospitality a board can share so much more than the fish du jour.

Here's a couple of random iphone shots.

Cafe, Forster, NSW

"Service and quality depends on customer attitude!"

Sadly the coffee was average but the owners were a delight to find in a sleepy town. Had a great mushroom burger (tempura batter and aioli) and got rewarded with a free game of space invaders on their retro games machine.

Bottle shop, Melbourne, Vic

"Buy champagne it makes you look good".

You gotta love the inner city. I really did laugh when I read this.

Though didn't buy and bubbles, I already look good!

Mist, fruit and a lychee salad

2011-03-23T17:41:00.002+11:00

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

From Keats Ode to Autumn

As the city is blanketed in morning fog and the last of the tomatoes wither on the vine, Melbournians enter a dance of not quite knowing what to wear at this time of year, making the commute to work most amusing. One young thing will be flashing the flesh in cut-off jeans, while another hides under a heavy coat. The men of late stay clad in t-shirts exposing a vast array of forearm tattoos. Yesterday I spotted a classic be-hearted “mother” on one thirty-ish lad and the stark number “29” on another. I itched to ask their stories.

The fruit that Keats so elegantly wrote of are on the turn. At the market exotic lychees and longans nestle next to apples and pears. I’ve convinced myself that fresh blueberries cost less than a glass of wine, so why not enjoy them a little bit longer?

But cooking with exotic fruit has never been my thing. I blame the toxic red “sweet and sour” sauce that clung to deep fried Chinese morsels that haunted my childhood. And let’s not get started on the 1970s Women’s Weekly curries featuring lamb, curry powder and a whole fruit salad bowl of apples, raisins and canned pineapple.

Over time my sweet 'n savoury-averse taste buds have undergone a re-education. It began with the delicious “summer rolls” at a long gone Gertrude Street Japanese kitchen. How could I guess that ice paper rolled around vegetables, nuts and mango could taste so good? Then as the diversity of Asian menus grew wider, the Chinese fluorescent sticky sauce was mercifully replaced with the tangy combo of fish sauce, lime juice and palm sugar.

Time to take the leap and add fruit to the main course I reckon. This weekend I whipped up a variant on this Asian coleslaw, in the form of a rice noodle salad. The sauce remains the same – that heavenly combo of lime, fish sauce, palm sugar and a little heat from this season’s searing red chilies.

Toss together a bundle of thin rice noodles, softened in hot water, with cucumber, grated carrot and a handful of aromatic herbs (Vietnamese or ordinary mint, coriander etc). Shell some fresh lychees and rip into pieces, top with chunks of smoked trout, add dressing and mix thoroughly.

I loved the bursts of sweet fruit in this old favourite. Ripe mango, papaya or pineapple would work equally as well. Definitely one for a warm autumn’s day.

Enjoy the mellow fruits while they last!

Much nicer fresh but the packaging is cuter!

a recipe to fight compassion fatigue

2011-03-17T14:57:00.004+11:00

Hold someone you love close (a small furry creature will do).
Close your eyes.
Breath in their scent.
Feel comforted.
Take your ball of compassion, cover with a tea towel and allow to rise in a warm place 'til doubled in size.

Once risen, protect your compassion from undue battering from the media.
Keep the temperature constant, lest cynicism toughens the consistency.
Shape into a heart and bake in a moderate oven.

Once cooled, share your compassion with friends and strangers. Sprinkle a touch salt from your tears but balance with honey to sweeten.
Drink a little wine if you need to lift your spirits but not too much, hangovers have been known to cause fatigue.

Don't forget to keep a little starter-ball of compassion aside. Whenever you feel jaded or sad, repeat the recipe. Offer it to those who need it. Be kind to others and gentle with yourself.

Sorry no actual recipes this week. As sunkissed as I am from a week of beach and sea, gushing about food while others go hungry doesn't sit well with me right now. My heart goes out to those I know in Japan and all those I don't.

a quickie from Sydney

2011-03-06T11:12:00.004+11:00

It's official. I'm in love.

Weekending in Sydney en route to a quiet beach on the mid North coast, I've managed to clock up at least two blogworthy food experiences in the last 12 or so hours.

Number one was a degustataion at Oscillating Wildly. Eight courses, including the most sublime sweet treats, for $100 is a special night out but worth it. They worked around my food intolerance issues with aplomb, serving a pescaterain feast. I flagged a little towards the end. After all eating for three and a half hours is a tad exhausting. I only just managed to pop a fresh marshmallow into my mouth before stumbling up the street before pumpkin hour.

Equally as orgasmic was this morning's jaunt to the Marrickville organic market. Food nazi heaven on a stick. Vibrant fresh produce, crispy corn fritters with kick arse chilli jam, handcrafted breads and a friendly vibe.

I'll be back in a bit. Enjoy the autumn weather while I'm gone.

how to be a food blogger - from the master

2011-02-26T17:12:00.004+11:00

So many pin up boys, so little time.

I've been on a bit of a David Lebovitz binge of late.

For a good reason. This guy is a master.

If you write a blog, really any kind of blog, especially one about food, read his latest post on food blogging.

If you’re just looking to get a pile of people leaving comments, you may as well just post recipes that include a cup of corn syrup or tell readers that you recommend running a cast iron skillet through the dishwasher.

Happy reading.

Have you got a food writer crush?

worse things than a shortage of bananas

2011-02-24T18:18:00.003+11:00

It's been a crap summer in this part of the world. We seem to be leaping from disaster to disaster. Just as the floods, fires and cyclones are beginning to recede in Australia, it's New Zealand's turn for sorrow.

Some of you know I'm a kiwi and it's only just come to my attention that there's been a bit of quiet worry in the blogosphere as to the fate of my family and friends. It's ok, those closest to me live in Wellington, though we all know someone in the quakezone.

Full update on the almost defunct, not-about-food blog for those who are interested.

Pear and cinnamon cordial-with bonus poached fruit

2011-02-21T13:37:00.002+11:00

It started with half a dozen slightly wrinkled apricots looking reproachfully at me from the fruit bowl. Not even organic and past their prime, I’d been musing on food wastage and felt growing levels of guilt about not consuming all that I’d bought. To extend their life a little longer I chopped off any blemishes and stewed the fruit with a scant amount of water and sugar.

Oh my goodness, I’d forgotten how good freshly stewed fruit tastes. The flavours intensified in the cooking and transformed into a fragrant treat.

A few weeks later, some pears begged for the same treatment. The end of the week fruit is like the kid picked last for the sports team. They’re not necessarily unworthy, just the stars got chosen first. Eating the fresh pear (an organic Bartlett) told me today it was perfect, neither too hard, nor too soft and the flavour subtly sweet. Not being able to get through the rest of the bowl in one sitting, poaching was the obvious solution.

I usually poach pears in port but this time wanted something more breakfast friendly so opted for a simple syrup. I like David Lebovitz’s approach and covered the simmering fruit with paper to stop them from browning. I went easier on the sugar and spiced them with cinnamon and vanilla.

The house quickly became scented with cinnamon. I’m sure it must be a mood enhancer, like a feline stalking catnip I kept pacing by the stove taking in huge wafts of the enchanting aroma.

Not only was the fruit an amazing success but I also lucked on a new drink. My love for elderflower cordial reaches almost addiction levels at times but poached pear and cinnamon syrup could rival it. The taste has the subtleness of elderflower, balanced by the base notes of cinnamon.

This following was for a small test batch, for a larger amount of cordial scale up as required.

Pear and cinnamon cordial

6 ripe pears, peeled, cored and quartered
4 cups water
1 cup sugar (plus more for the cordial)
1 cinnamon quill
1/2 – 1 vanilla pod (to round the flavour but not dominate, unless you love vanilla)
pear juice concentrate (optional)

Place the water in a large pot, add sugar and dissolve over a gentle heat. Add the spices and prepared pears, then cover with a round of parchment or baking paper with a small hole in the middle (see the Lebovitz link above if unsure how to do this). Simmer over a low heat til the pears are just cooked. Mine took about 20 minutes.

Allow the fruit to cool in the syrup to enhance the flavour, then remove the pears with enough syrup to coat them. Return the pot to the stove and bring to a simmer. As the rest of the fluid is to make a small batch of cordial you may want to add more sweetener. I used some pear juice concentrate but if you want a clear syrup add more white sugar rather than the brown concentrate. Reduce the liquid by a third then decant to a small covered bottle or jar when cool.

For a fragrant drink add 1 – 2 tablespoons of cordial to a glass of sparkling mineral or soda water.

And don’t forget to eat the poached pears, perfect as a simple healthy dessert or on cereal for breakfast.

Recipe: Fish cutlets in vine ripened tomato sauce

2011-02-14T14:27:00.005+11:00

2011 has been about practicing mindfulness thus far for me. To date it has kept me in the moment when dealing with a new landlord (oh don’t get me started on that, it could waste a perfectly delightful moment as I sit at my desk on a sunny day writing) and stopped me from feeling too sorry for myself while succumbing to an annoying bug.

This being in the moment lark is not always easy. I remember Stephanie Dowrick writing years ago in the Saturday Age about the mindfulness of washing dishes but to be honest I’d prefer to be anywhere else than in the moment when undertaking that menial chore.

I see shopping for seasonal food as a central tenet of my practice. Going to the market with no fixed ideas of what to cook means some surprises in my basket. I recently ate a lot of daikon – stretching my cooking repertoire to using the green leaves in soup, the root raw in salads as a replacement for radish and a foray into stir fries for the crunch texture. Last week it was a wander through the fish hall for the freshest looking produce at the most reasonable price.

I returned home with modestly sized but thick, snapper cutlets with not a clue about how I’d cook them. I’ve ranted before about the Australasian phobia for fish on the bone but like most flesh, this makes it taste sweeter. The snapper is blessed with a medium sized spine with thickish ribs, making them an ideal fish to eat whole. The cutlets are also encased in omega rich skin so the whole piece is like a tidy package that stays together well when cooking. This is the ideal cut for those who can’t get through an entire fish or are working their way up to dealing emotionally with the beast. Being headless there are no eyes to distract the squeamish fish lover.

Fish cutlets are great to poach and stew as they keep their shape. With the garden bearing a host of love apples, tomatoes feature in much of what I'm cooking at the moment. I’m not sure the genesis of this recipe, finding none that fitted the bill, it came together from fragments of memory and imagination. Flying by the seat of my pants, in the moment, it turned out perfectly.

Fish in tomato and olive sauce
(serves 2)

2 tabs olive oil
2 large fish cutlets (or 4 small)
1 cup fish stock (vegetable or chicken stock would do)
1/2 cup white wine (optional)
A pinch of saffron threads, soaked in 2 tabs hot water
1 onion, chopped
A touch of chili, for subtle warmth (optional)
2-4 cloves of garlic (the more the better)
3-4 large, ripe tomatoes (or a cup or two of canned crushed tomatoes)
A decent handful, green beans, top and tailed
10 black olives (I like Kalamata)
Salt and pepper to season

Soak your saffron threads in a little hot water or stock.

Heat a heavy bottomed fry pan to medium to high, add half the olive oil and fry the fish for a minute or two both sides. This is to seal and colour the fish rather than to cook through. Put aside once seared.

Add the rest of the oil to the pan and sauté chopped onion. Because I was going to blitz the fresh tomatoes in the food processor I did the onions and garlic in it first, a great shortcut for a tired cook. Stir frequently ‘til translucent, then add the garlic and chili. After a minute or two pour in the crushed/blitzed tomatoes (mine were grand lisse still warm from the garden and perfectly ripe) wine and stock. If using warm stock, add the saffron to it for 10 minutes first, otherwise soak the saffron in warm water and add with the stock. This recipe works fine with just stock and no wine, though the alcohol adds depth of flavour. Reduce heat to a gentle simmer. After 5 minutes or so add the olives, green beans and fish. Depending on the thickness of the cutlets poach in the tomato sauce for 4-5 minutes each side ‘til cooked through.

Taste and season as required. Serve on rice or with crusty bread.

In the moment, my thoughts were on eating not photography. But feast your eyes on part of this morning's Tommy Toe haul.

Melbourne CBD lunch quest continued

2011-02-12T09:57:00.002+11:00

I’m loathed to write about my quest for lunch in the Melbourne CBD. Each time I post my top three lunch spots, one falls off the perch. First Sataybar closed its nearby store. Then last time my beloved dosas dropped off the radar. Both Nila City and Sydney Road are long gone. Though the De Graves Street spot is now occupied by the sister shop to the Lygon Street fish/burger/sushi chain that includes a small selection of brown rice nori rolls.

A year or two ago I added Ume Sushi House to my lunchtime treats. Little Bourke Street isn’t usually in my city circuit but it’s now become the eatery of choice on the days that I have enough time to stroll and eat at a more leisurely pace. Nori Rolls aside, the dishes at Ume are generous and appropriately priced in the $10-15 range. Not an everyday lunch choice for me but makes a nice treat.

Though I was taken by their vegetable tempura bento for awhile, it’s just too much food to get through for me as it includes not just a generous array of tempura but also miso soup, small salads, rice AND a vegetarian nori roll.

My current treat is their chirashi sushi. There are so many variations on this dish, often translated as “scattered” sushi, that each restaurant’s version is unique. Ume’s presentation is a delight and the bonito flecked condiment in the bottom right corner (can someone tell the me the name of it?) is a tasty addition.

What's on your lunchtime menu at the moment?

Ume Sushi House
383-385 Little Bourke Street,
Melbourne VIC 3000
Open 9-5 weekdays

Hotcakes

2011-01-30T12:24:00.003+11:00

It will come as no surprise to regular readers of the blog that Mark Bittman is one of my favourite culinary pin up ~~boys~~ men. If I had to nominate a top three there’d also be delicious Nigel and our own lovely Tony. But let’s not be heterosexist, my soft spot for Annabel also deserves a mention.

What all four of these cooking heroes have in common is a laid back attitude to home cooking. There's also a shared joy of homegrown produce and a relaxed approach to following recipes. All of which tick my boxes.

But back to Mr Bittman. I enjoyed his recent New York Times piece on whole-grain pancakes. The accompanying video showed him incorporating some cooked oatmeal (porridge) with a scant amount of flour, herbs, nuts and dried fruit. I took notes as I watched! I made guesses as to quantities. Why? Because at the time I couldn’t actually find the recipe.

As fate would have it, last weekend came around and I awoke to an unexpected dose of mild food poisoning (sadly from an oldish favourite on Brunswick Street). My partner suffered likewise, sealing the deal as to the source of the infection. Once my digestion calmed down all I wanted to eat was porridge. Which meant the next day, when I was fully functioning again, a cup or so of rolled oats slowly cooked with rice milk and a little banana sat waiting to be used in my fridge.

My version varies somewhat from the original but they look and I suspect taste pretty authentic. The notes in italics explain the variations. The quantities were more than adequate for two very hungry adults.

Super healthy pancakes with oats and cardamom

Combine the following dry ingredients:

2 tabs ground almonds
2 tabs raw rolled oats
I chopped the almonds roughly in the food processor then threw in the raw whole oats for a couple of whizzes. The texture in the finished product was lovely – but I really wonder if it needed the raw oats at all.
1/2 tsp salt
Seeds of about 4 pods cardamom
I pounded salt and herbs together in a mortar and pestle. The aroma was quite strong, so I used this as a guide to the amount of cardamom seeds I used. The cardamom was very subtle in the first pancake I cooked but was more noticeable in later ones.
1/2 cup unbleached flour
This was perfect, in both texture and binding of the batter.
1 tsp baking powder

Wet ingredients

Whisk together:
1 egg
1/2 c rice (or other) milk
I added a further 1/3 cup when mixing the final batter. to get to the right consistency.
1 tsp vanilla extract
As there was a trace of banana already in my porridge and I knew I’d be using the perfect runny apricot jam on top, no need for the addition of dried apricots. Even without that, I think they’d be over kill. The vanilla, though not in the original recipe, was a subtle flavour enhancer that I’d use again.

Stir into the combined wet ingredients:
1+ cups porridge
I had a bit over a cup of left over porridge cooked with a little banana and rice milk from the day before. As leftover porridge tends to congeal, using clean hands to break up the lumps through the wet ingredients was the most effective method.

Add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir gently.
Despite my initial scepticism, it really does create a “batter consistency”, even with so little flour. They needed to be loosened a little more with milk. I decided to let the batter sit for half an hour. That’s the general rule for flour based pancake batters, the flour swells a little but more than that the cardamom has a chance to infuse.

Cook in rice bran oil in a hot pan. They needed at least 4 minutes a side. And like most pancakes I find it better to do a small one first, then the pan seems to get into its groove and the following ones cook more smoothly – or is that just me?

Served with a spoonful of the most heavenly, runny organic apricot jam a client had given me but maple syrup or a little honey would do the trick.

Verdict: When I first read the recipe I must admit my first thought was "crispy fried porridge". But my second thought was "crispy fried porridge could taste really good"! The oatmeal did make the pancakes a little damp in the middle, rather than the more cakey nature I'm familiar with. The ground nuts added a lovely texture that complemented the oats.

Overall - a delightful, very filling and healthy breakfast!

Though next time I might soak rolled oats over night, rather than cooking them to see how that works.

What the? Part 2

2011-01-28T15:39:00.005+11:00

Any publicity is good publicity, so I’m told. Though in the blogworld there’s a slight division between those who court being noticed (and lavished with free stuff) and those who are a bit like the punks I hung out with briefly in my teens. Their attire would scream for attention but would menacingly spit “What ya lookin’ at?” to anyone who cast a glance their way.

I guess at my heart, I’m just a kid with spiky hair. Notice me but let me decide whether I’ll let you get away with it.

Back in November there was a mass email that some of us dubbed “FYI What the F*ck”. My post about the communique prompted some lively commenting and a volley of off blog emails from the Production Director.

December came around and serendipitously I was eating at Pope Joan (wonderful place but a vegan-unfriendly menu) with another foodblogger when we came across the Holiday Edition of GRAM. What a waste of print was the general consensus but to be fair, I thought I’d wait for another edition or two to give it a go.

I was rather surprised today to see a mention on twitter; it appears one of my posts got "quoted" in GRAM. I hadn’t expected that.

So what is GRAM?

An A3 print magazine style (similar size to Beat etc) food-focused freebie.

Issue 2 comprised of:
14 full sized pages of advertising
21 x 2-3-sentence regurgitation of local food blog posts
1 full paged promo for the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival
1 full page “piece” comprising of listing 10 local eateries and the name of the coffee machine they use
1 “about us” style page
8 full format photos (supposedly original as their blurb expressly says “All photography in Gram is copyright and may not be reproduced in whole or part without the prior consent of the publisher”.)

How they described the publication in the original email:

In the interests of integrity, GRAM doesn’t commission writers or works. Content isn’t product driven or based on any commercial directives. Instead it’s made up of positive, in-depth pieces with attractive photography, written by passionate and knowledgeable local ‘authorities’.

Does it deliver?

“In-depth pieces”? Sadly there were none. I could be wrong but the image of some work experience kid being plonked in front of a computer with the instructions to scour local food blogs for any interesting content comes to mind.

I'm more than a little confused as to who are the "passionate and knowledgeable local 'authorities'" who wrote the in-depth pieces. Not the person who clumsily compiles the quotes. So are the bloggers the writers they allude to? If so, I hope my cheque is in the mail.

So are these “in-depth pieces” quoting blogs in the manner that other print media or bloggers themselves do, or are they lifting free content for free?

GRAM claimed

A very similar premise to how a blogger might make reference to an external article they want to share - placing a link in their own blog and directing readers on.

Here’s an example from their site of how they do it:

HUXTABLE
131 Smith St, Fitzroy. Ph. 9419-5101
R&H @ Pepper. Salt. Sugar. Spice. found the menu at Huxtable “intriguing”. Deciding on the “plump and lovely” dashi-poached eggs with smoked salmon, and “spectacular” French toast with poached rhubarb, Istra bacon and maple syrup, they weren’t disappointed. In fact they think Huxtable is Melbourne’s best “café to have breakfast”…
Article Source: http://peppersaltsugarspice.blogspot.com

Would I be upset if another blogger quoted me like that?

Apart from the bad writing? To be honest, I’d think it was just utterly lazy. Most quotes are often used in context. For example “R&H loved the French toast (link to post) but it was the amazing Japanese breakfast that sold me on the place”. Then there’d be ORIGINAL content about my own experience.

These “pieces” are not in-depth or add any original content whatsoever but what differentiates GRAM from another blogger writing the laziest post on earth is that the pieces are just mere wrapping to sell advertising.

Verdict

I’m more amused than hugely annoyed about getting a mention. My understanding from the outcome of my extensive emails to GRAM in November were that they would contact me for permission to reproduce actual content but “quoting”, i.e.: a simple link, was ok. I can’t share those emails as they were marked “in confidence”.

Strangely, rather than being cutting edge, my post they spat out was from March 2010. Hardly recent.

I’ve seen no spike in hits, as the mass email suggested:

As a result, GRAMs featured bloggers will probably notice a marked increase in traffic to their sites, expanding the potential for those already advertising to capitalise on their work, and creating opportunities for those that yet don’t (through options like Google AdSense, Nuffnang and Foodbuzz).

NOTE: F*ck off adsense, nuffnang, foodbuzz I don’t want you.

But wait is that a knock at my door? I think it’s a publisher, who saw my blog for the first time today in GRAM and is offering me a 3 book deal!

As to the concept of GRAM?

Will anyone download the Microsoft software needed to scan the codes (I certainly wont)? And who would laboriously type a long url into their smartphone?

Overall I feel sad that so much money has gone into this magazine, that they’ve wasted the time, space and opportunity that could have created something worth of reading. Regurgitating unpaid pieces that other people have written, instead of commissioning talented food writers to create something new is a total waste.

Or just a cheap way to make money from advertising?

30.1.11 Update: Clarification

* As I said, I'm "amused" about my inclusion in this publication.
* I was surprised rather than upset, mainly because I tend imagine any feedback I give to a publicist/marketer et al that is not 100% positive potentially puts me on a blacklist.
* I quite possibly have an overactive imagination, or so I've been told.
* I am not a lawyer, nor am I pursuing one, I have not been plagiarised.
* Academically though, I'd like to know if a publication used it's "in-depth articles" as a sales pitch to potential advertisers - as in "(the publication is) made up of positive, in-depth pieces with attractive photography, written by passionate and knowledgeable local ‘authorities’" and they acknowledged that the pieces they refer to are the blog posts, if they commission the photos but not the pieces - is it misleading or unethical in any way?
* In the two days since the publication hit the street (literally, I found my copy in an unopened bundle getting very dirty, at lunchtime Friday outside a Degraves Street cafe) the post has had one hit from GRAM (hey the work experience kid has to do something :) but in the same period of time it has had four hits via Google, all from outside of Australia, therefor not remotely related to being "quoted".
* Speaking of links, quotes and mentions - GRAM take note, this is a good example of how most bloggers do it.
* Feel free to speculate on how many editions GRAM will run for. They've clocked up two so far. Do I hear advances on four? Was that a five at the back of the room?

7.2.11 Update: Crikey writes about blogger backlash.

Amber Jamieson reports:

Cea says GRAM is now considering reproducing entire blog posts and paying writers for republishing posts after realising the backlash and negativity from the blogging community. Money has been received for ads, says Cea, but adds: “We’re not making money [yet], that’s for sure.”

While I'm a little skeptical about that happening (or if so, at anything nearing market rates), read the full article as there are lots of gems in it, as well as a good round up of what fellow bloggers are saying. The comparison between Saucy Thyme's actual writing and the GRAM rehash is a fine example of what many of us are on about. The GRAM precis written is so badly, who'd be inspired to visit the original piece?

On other matters, I was informed by GRAM last week that my link has been removed without a trace from their website. Though I've not asked for this, I'm other bloggers quoted in the magazine have suggested it.

keeping calm and carrying on: urban survival kit

2011-01-18T08:31:00.005+11:00

Just quietly, between you and me, after a couple of weeks off I’ve found going back to work this year a bit of a shock. Instead of the usual gentle plunge into the working year, it’s felt like an inundation.

Perhaps it didn’t help that my first day back coincided with rising floodwaters in Brisbane, where the latest sms from my cousin informed me he was sandbagging his new business and reeling from his insurance broker laughing when he asked if he was covered for flood damage. With an eye on the news and the excellent social media update via #qldfloods on Twitter during my lunch break, my heart felt like it was a thousand kilometres away.

But thanks to the twitter stream it soon became apparent that I live in a totally different world to some of the Brisbane tweeters. I was struck by some updates mentioning they’d rocked up to find empty food shelves at the supermarket and their cupboard at home was perennially bare as they “eat out most of the time and buy on the day if I cook”.

My mum was raised through hard times being a depression era child. Perhaps if she’d been a baby boomer I wouldn’t have done a sneaky audit of the bathroom one day in my teens and counted 24 rolls of toilet paper, 9 cakes of soap and 4 tubes of toothpaste, stockpiled away in the cupboards. Everytime the local stores discounted her favourite brands she’d buy a few extra, just in case.

I miss her old pantry, stupidly sacrificed in a really bad 80’s kitchen renovation, which always seemed packed to capacity. In autumn she’d bottle peaches, apricots and tomato sauce (the later flavoured with dried pimento seeds, unless my mind is playing trick on me). Throughout the year there’d be canned versions of the same, bought on sale, for when her own bottles had run out. There was always many kilos of flours and sugar in the deep drawers where the baking supplies were kept.

In the garage sat the ginormous chest freezer purchased in the 70’s when buying “a whole beast” with a neighbour came into vogue. For years half a pig's head greeted you on opening the freezer, until one day she quietly threw it out. Our family of five chomped through meat at least twice a day but our conventional tastes tended to stop far south of a snout.

The clay soil and challenging weather limited the vegetable garden but in summer there’d be a crop of runner beans and strawberries. Sometimes she'd try something new but our favourite would be the joys of running through rows of corn that would tower over me before the cobs were ready to pick. Throughout the year the rhubarb remained constant, along with curly leaf parsley and a small but proficient lemon tree.

I am convinced we could have eaten well for weeks on the pantry stores and garden, let alone remained clean, if disaster struck. During the odd storm that took the power out, the neighbours would pull their camp stove out and boil a billy for tea. There was no doubt that in the case of a major emergency the locals would pool resources and help each other out.

Here in Melbourne in the 21st century I’m not feeding a family of five but between kitchen, garden and neighbourhood connections I think I could make a fair stab of not going hungry for a month. While the barbecue gas remains on good supply – there’s kilos of dried beans, lentils and whole grains to feed the entire street plus a sizeable pile of canned legumes, tomatoes, packets of pasta and baking supplies. Arepas on the grill with refried beans and fresh salsa anyone?

So what do you stockpile? I’m guessing if you are a food blog reader/writer your own supplies aren’t too shabby.

And while we're at it, what do you have in your urban survival kit?

Urban survival kit

Enough food and water to last a week (for each member of the house)
Canned beans, fruit, fish and vegetables
Dried grains (rice, oats, quinoa etc) and legumes
Raw nuts and seeds, dried fruit (great high energy snacks)

Crackers, mountain bread and other floury goods.
Flours, sugar, oil, sauces
UHT milk/tetra packs of alternative milks

Wind up or battery powered radio (cos the batteries in your smart phone won’t last for long if you’re streaming audio)
Wind up or battery powered torch
Spare batteries
Candles
Matches/lighter
Barbecue or camp stove
Old fashioned landline phone (not requiring electricity)
Basic first aid kit – especially bandages, dressings, antiseptic
At least a fortnight’s supply of any essential medicines (and condoms for those who use them, it’s amazing the amount of babies conceived during the aftermath of disasters!)
Mosquito coils

What would you add?

PS: not a necessity but my friendly organic grocer suggested I stock up on ginger, anticipating a shortage in the near future as it's a Queensland crop.

Or instead you could donate the money to a plethora of flood funds - not just in Australia but around the world

Queensland
Victoria
Pakistan
No specific funds as yet for the Brazil and Sri Lanka floods but Oxfam suggests becoming a 365 Emergency donor

not quite a year in review

2011-01-05T16:52:00.004+11:00

New loves
Serendipity sorbet (from downtown Marrickville) – fell in love with their coconut and kaffir lime served with some of those sour cherries in juice from a jar. Their chocolate sorbet wins best dairy-free creamy chocolate hit of the year. Oh and I’ve just discovered passionfruit and chilli – oh my!

Tofu in gingery tomato sauce, definitely the most made new recipe of the year. I’ve done all kinds of variations to add some vegetables to it, all fabulous, though eggplant is still the best for it’s melty texture and sponge like quality to suck up the flavours.

Green coriander seeds. I just wish I could have fresh seeds all year round.

With so many new eateries in my neck of the woods it’s hard to pick a favourite newcomer. Hats off to Munsterhaus for providing casual, healthy food that makes me crave more. I also developed a soft spot for breakfast in the sun outside the quaint Miss Marmalade. Honourable mention to the latest in the Vue family – Café Vue at the Melbourne international terminal. Leaving the country has never tasted so good. Considering the paucity of decent food in the entire airport, let alone when you are held hostage in the departure hall, the luxury and great (though rather rich) food at Café Vue is a gift from the goddess. If you are on a cut-price jaunt, I suspect their breakfast/lunch/dinner boxes beat anything you could get onboard. The toasted olive bread and tuna sandwich that I ate there just before Christmas made it easy to ignore the horror of a meal Air New Zealand attempted to serve up.

Out of town finds– Black Star Pastry (Newtown, Sydney) and the queue-worthy Mamak (Haymarket, Sydney). I suspect I’ll be eating in Sydney even more in 2011, so feel free to tell me your favourite casual haunts in the harbour city.

Falling in Love Again
Best new old friend Annabel Langbein. Despite so much of her food being dairy or meat rich, I loved her program The Free Range Cook for her casual attitude towards cooking and simple recipes – so much so I dusted off her cookbook and actually made the recipes I’d earmarked.

In a similar vein, in a moment of boredom on a visit to my family in NZ, I jazzed up my mum’s chocolate rough recipe and fell in love with a decidedly adult twist on a childhood favourite slice.

Other foods I fell for all over again included kale, New Zealand whitebait, ginger beer and mushrooms on toast.

A couple more “best ofs”
Best experiment – harissa prawns. Homemade harissa paste has become my favourite “fridge fixing” – other than tagines it goes into chilli bean dishes, mayonnaise to accompany carrot fritters and smoked eel but best of all was using to marinate prawns. Drooling in memory of it just typing this…

Best food related meme – most likely the only one I did but I loved Jill Dupleix’s life in 10 dishes so much, I did it myself.

Social media high and low lights
The Foodblogging event of the year was certainly the inaugural Eat, Drink, Blog. A spectacular event, wonderful participants, incredible cocktails and a delightful meal at St Ali. Best of all was hanging out with fellow bloggers and forming new friendships.

Foodblogging meets old media epic fail of the year – how could we forget the evil Judith Griggs and Crooksource?

What I want more of in 2011
Home cooking. I buy fresh, seasonal organic fruit and veg each week. It’s a pity to waste them. I’ve grown increasingly disenchanted with big bang, expensive restaurants over the years. But perhaps that’s because in Melbourne we are lucky to have so many small, understated, quality neighbourhood eateries like The Commoner in Fitzroy and Da Noi in South Yarra. Neither new kids on the block but both provided my favourite dining experiences of the year – the perfect blend of the best company to eat and drink with, waiters who know how to do their job and talented chefs.

What are you food highs of 2010 and what are you hankering for in 2011?

merry eatmas

2010-12-31T09:09:00.003+11:00

Back from across the ditch, a place where the wind blows at 170 km/hour (I kid you not). Fortunately Christmas day in Wellington was not a southerly buster, smiling fine weather upon us.

French bubbles, smoked eel, kick-arse prawn cocktails and the ever spectacular chocolate mousse all added a bit a oral enjoyment to the day.

hope you had a good one too.

See you in 2011.

curry with a great provenance

2010-12-20T15:39:00.007+11:00

The genesis of ideas fascinates me. Recipes, like family history, have a habit of unfolding, blending and recreating themselves. It excites me to find other people's scribbles and cross-outs in cookbooks (though never, ever in fiction!), a meeting of social anthropology and culinary exploration. It gives me a thrill to find a library book, splattered from a visit to a borrowers kitchen, with a secret message of a substitution or deletion pencilled into the margin.

I’m pathologically incapable of following a recipe exactly. I do my best to honour the spirit of the inventor but when it comes to savoury cooking I really struggle to toe the line if I don’t have all the ingredients. Perhaps it’s sheer laziness that leads me to be so adaptive?

For my final recipe post of the year I can trace back the provenance of the dish. This great curry comes to you from Jamie Oliver, via Reem's adaptation, wih a Food Nazi veganization for good measure.

I don’t own a single Oliver cookbook. I’ve always been ambivalent about his boyish charms, though I admit he’s likable… in a Shane Warne of Cooking kind of way. But what the man excels in is simple, flexible recipes. The Jamie/Reem curry is dead easy and quick as well, which always ticks my boxes.

So I bring you their favourite curry sauce for fish, from Jamie Oliver's Happy Days with the Naked Chef.

Only it doesn’t have any fish in it.

Though it would be very tasty with seafood.

Oh and I changed the flavouring just a teeny bit, with fresh turmeric, coriander seeds, kaffir lime leaves and some palm sugar. I swapped green chillies for red and dropped the curry leaves.

But does anyone know where Jamie got the recipe from in the first place?

My (new) Favourite Curry Sauce
(Quantities for two)

1 tab coconut oil
1-2 tsp Mustard Seeds
1/2 -1tsp Fenugreek Seeds (optional, I think I’ll give them a miss next time)
1 tsp fresh coriander seeds (or dried if you have to)
I tsp of finely chopped red chili (or this preserved version)
2-3 kaffir lime leaves, split in half
1 small onion
1thumb sized pieces of ginger, peeled & coarsely grated
1 thumb sized piece of fresh turmeric
2-3 tomatoes, chopped
200 ml coconut milk
1 tsp tamarind concentrate
1 –2 tsp grated palm sugar
A large pinch of salt
Vegetables, chopped into small pieces
1 block, Tofu – pressed to remove excess water, cubed

Heat a tablespoon of coconut or plain vegetable oil in a heavy based pan. Add the mustard seeds and stir. When they start popping add the fenugreek, coriander seeds and chili, stir some more. Take the onion, ginger and turmeric and chop in a food processor. Add to the pan. Cook for 3 or 4 minutes, stirring frequently. Now add the chopped tomatoes (or even better, whiz them in the already dirty food processor) and you guessed it, stir some more. Add the coconut, tamarind concentrate, kaffir lime leaves and palm sugar. Allow the paste to cook down a little and thicken. Add a pinch of salt and adjust sugar/salt/tamarind as necessary to balance the flavours.

Your sauce is ready to receive whatever you fancy. Jamie/Reem used seafood (which would work especially well with the citrus tones of the kaffir lime leaves) but I was on an end of the week vegetable crisper clean out – so in went carrots, cauliflower and chunks of zucchini. Make sure the vegetables are well coated in sauce. You may need to add a cup of water too loosen as it cooks down. Five minutes before serving add the cubes of tofu and allow them to soak up the flavours.

Garnish with fresh coriander if you want to be fancy.

Serve with rice or roti.

Notes – The curry is a gorgeous brick red colour and the fragrance is amazing. The fresh coriander seeds were wonderful. Keep it subtle and they marry with the other seeds. I had no curry leaves and though I know the kaffir lime gave the curry a different accent it was worth the deviation. As for the sugar, something tasted slightly bitter (maybe I’d scorched the fenugreek?) and the sugar along with the salt (what no salt in the original recipe?!) and the acid of the tamarind corrected the balance.

seven more sleeps!

2010-12-18T11:08:00.003+11:00

My Facebook status has belied that I’m limping, rather than frolicking, through these final weeks of the year. This has resulted in making grown up decisions about how I use my energy – consequently I’m not en route to Sydney today to celebrate my favourite de facto uncle turning 80, nor did I make it to best Christmas party of the year.

My state of exhaustion has been both helped and hindered by the following high and low lights of the past week.

1. “Note to self” – tossing mustard seeds in a very hot wok licked with vegetable oil is not a good idea, unless you want to be pelted by an instantaneous explosion of miniature molten cannonballs. Nothing like a tattoo of little burns across ones cleavage to celebrate the festive season! You’d be surprised by just how many mustard seeds quantify a heaped teaspoon, how far they can fly and for how long they reappear lodged in nooks and crannies.

2. Smoothies – I’ve fallen in love with the simplest breakfast on earth. A small, ripe banana augmented with a handful of strawberries or half a mango. My preferred milk is now rice, yes it’s rather thin and insipid but the banana turns it into a thicker substance, creamy with mouth feel. Pomegranate molasses continues to be the magic ingredient; it really lifts the flavour and enhances the fruity tones. Any smoothie without a teaspoon or two of the ruby syrup is lacking by comparison.

3. A drink or two at the Westin Hotel. On the only perfect summer’s day this week, when the barometer hovered around 30 in Melbourne, I met old friends and hung out in the opulent air-conditioned lobby and caught up with refugees from the London winter. Though I swear the waiter forgot the vodka in my VLS, the company and ambience was perfect place to catch up on the last 9 years, while waiting for tardy dinner guest delayed on a trans-Tasman flight.

4. Dinner at Gingerboy, I’m sorry but food wise this was an equal lowlight (though not as painful as the mustard seed tattoo). While I didn’t miss the reflux caused by my first visit there was a serious lack of “wow” through the whole meal. We had fun popping the son-in-law eggs, whole, into our mouths but the vegetarian dish featuring asparagus was bland and starchy. The biggest disappointment was the previously loved corn cakes. Apart from them not appearing until the last dish was served, despite saying “we want lots of corn cakes, give us corn cakes!” enthusiastically when ordering – the sad balls arrived a sunburnt shade of brown, burnt on the outside but damp within. Nothing like the fluffy balls I’d remembered. Waiting staff were fab though, along with the calibre of my dining companions but the kitchen let them down big time.

5. Nibbles and drinks at Gerald’s Bar. How lucky am I to have this bar as my “local”? I don’t know any other “all occasion” kind of place that hits the right note every time, let alone one a short walk from my front door. A quiet drink with my partner while dinner cooks slowly in the oven at home, the perfect end to a night out with overseas visitors, a catch up with my favourite wine, liqueur or coffee snob, a celebration with some close friends, an impromptu dinner at the bar or a quiet table in the back room – Gerald’s manages to deliver whatever I need with ease. The place can be rollicking, packed with high energy on a Friday night, yet perfectly cruisy on others. Last night the place was on a roll but a moment after squeezing through the door one of the bartenders eyeballed us and ushered us to a table for two in the backroom. Perfect for a planned catch up with a friend. The next minute the elusive Gerald appeared from the kitchen door “What can I get you girls*? A G&T? Some bubbles?” No, a perfectly priced rosé and a bowl of freshly fried crispy whitebait. Another glass and some of his delicious smoked salmon and a plate of vegetable pickles. All served with aplomb from the host with the most.

6. Fish burger, hold the chips. The tapas and rosé were wonderful but a few hours later was tweenie hour. No more wine for me, grazing plates had knocked the edge off my hunger but there was room for just a little more. Getting a late table at any of the Rathdowne Street eateries would be pushing it and all we wanted was a small serving of something simple. A brilliant plan was hatched, a fish burger to go from the anonymous looking takeaway place next door. Cooked to order for a mere $7, a classic spongy white bun burger, with a freshly grilled fillet, lettuce, tomato and tartare sauce, piping hot and eaten on my neighbours couch. Feet up, pussycats patted, music playing, water consumed – a perfect end to a hectic week. I’m so glad I conserved my energy, selectively picked and chose my social life.

I might just make it to Christmas after all.

Speaking of which, next Friday will find me trawling the providores of Wellington. I have no idea what I can feed my picky family this year (if only I could import my Melbourne favourites – fresh Aussie prawns, luscious mangoes, Chicken Pantry’s perfect turkey sausages that my father declared “the best turkey he’d ever eaten” and a swag of Noisette mince pies). It will be whatever is fresh and local, seafood and vegetable-wise and if I can unearth my mum’s trusty Kenwood, a batch of chocolate mousse. To be honest, a bowl of cherries, a glass of bubbles and a touch of chocolate is all I need, other than being grateful my rather fragile parents are still here to celebrate another yuletide. How are your (meat-free) Christmas food plans going?

* I’ve now hit the age where being called a girl no longer annoys me, a far preferable greeting than “madam”…a greeting that makes me want to splutter an Ab Fab response of “mademoiselle!”

wikileeks?

2010-12-16T17:19:00.003+11:00

Right now I've got a bad case of end of year fatigue causing me to triage my social life severely. Sheesh it's tough being a grown up sometimes.

While there's a great recipe posts brewing (the best vegan curry ever!) all I'm up for right now is to pour a long, cool glass of mineral water, have a lie down and share some vego-political humour spied today at Garden Organics.

solstice giving update

2010-12-13T15:37:00.003+11:00

At winter solstice I gave thanks and started an experiment. In gathering my (and your) favourite healthy cookbooks I linked them to a Fishpond (online Australasian bookstore) affiliate program. The promise was to give any profits from affiliate sales to my favourite charity. As an act of faith I donated $200 in advance to the Smith Family’s Learning for Life and I’m glad to say that has almost been met in affiliate sales.

Today, while listening to 774 I caught Ian Thorpe talk about his foundation. Those of you who’ve read my other (ranty) blog may know I’ve had a thing for Thorpie over the years. But all jokes aside, after listening to flipper feet talk I’m proud of what he’s done to encourage literacy in Aboriginal communities. So continuing the theme of giving I’ve donated $200 to his charity. If you’d like to support it too by purchasing books via this Fishpond link or directly through the foundation, good on you.

As for the virtual bookshelf I’m building elsewhere, it’s still a work in progress. The list of things to consume my post holiday replenished energy supplies in the New Year grows ever longer! You’re welcome to continue to add your thoughts on healthy food related reading.

A big addition to my original list is my cookbook of the year, Tony Chiodo’s Feel Good Food.

Feel Good Food
I’ve broken my minimalist rules this year with a small haul of recipe books and Chiodo’s is certainly the healthiest.

Lisa Dempster recommended

The Asian Vegan Kitchen: Authentic and Appetizing Dishes from the Continent of Rich Flavors
I like the idea of an Asian cookbook that avoids mock meats/sauces and focuses on the authentic vegetarian recipes. It’s winging its way to my letterbox right now!

I’m keen to check out Lucy’s suggestion, it's just a pity I didn’t remember it when I ordered the Hema Parekh’s book! But good to see that Fishpond currently have it on sale.

Jam Today: A Diary of Cooking with What You've Got

A few of you also suggested

The Yoga Cookbook: Vegetarian Food for Body and Mind

Speaking of cookbooks I made an interesting discovery recently. Do you ever fall in love with a book in the shop, bring it home, touch it lovingly from time to time but never really end up cooking anything from it? This year I realized that the key to success is committing to make at least one recipe from the new book within the first week of purchase. This reduces the likelihood that it will languish on the shelf with its recipes mere pipe dreams.

What books are tickling your fancy, culinary or otherwise, this season?

A big thanks to all of you who clicked through to Fishpond in the last 6 months and bought all sorts of wonderful books and electronic equipment via the affiliate link. It gives me a buzz to think that your reading choices are helping some Australian children learn to love words and become readers for life.

Hope you all are keeping your head above water and remembering the spirit of the season.

Update: Lucy added From Spiders to Water Lilies Cambodian cooking for a great cause.

fresh, green and vomit-free!

2010-12-10T08:02:00.004+11:00

I came late to the party as far as coriander (cilantro) is concerned.

To be honest I thought the herb smelt like vomit, so why would I want to taste it? The journey from outright disgust to tolerance of this plant has been a long one. It’s only in recent years that I’ve begun to embrace it. So to celebrate this newfound love, inspired by Christina’s wonderful post mid year, I’ve grown coriander for the first time.

Beyond the joy of being able to harvest a bunch of coriander fresh from the garden while knocking up some Asian delight, I’ve patiently waited for the plant to go to seed. In the past when annuals have bolted, I’ve felt a little melancholy. This time my excitement was palpable.

You see it’s the seed bearing umbels that really turn me on. So much of what I cook now begins with toasting and grinding coriander and cumin seeds. How perfect to harvest my own seeds to use after the plant has died? Then my mind sprung to the next logical conclusion, if dried seeds bring me so much olfactory joy, what about FRESH coriander seeds? How cool would they be to cook with?

For the past week I’ve battled torrential rain, the odd swarm of mosquitoes and fretted about locusts, just to harvest my new best friend. The first batch went mouldy, stupid really as I know all about drying herbs. Fortunately there’s been more bounty on the leggy, near dead, plant. My first foray into using my new love was to simply crush a head or two of seeds with the back of a large knife and adding them to a mid-week kedgeree. The seeds lifted the flavour, adding a fresh pungency to the spices.

Have you every cooked with fresh coriander seeds or have an inkling on how you’d use them?

fritter heaven

2010-11-29T13:54:00.004+11:00

What comes to mind when you think of kiwi food? While there’s the archetypal lamb roast and pavlova*, it's not something you’ll find in every café. When it comes to a certainty on every urban menu, the gong has to go to fritters.

Corn fritters seem to appear on almost every New Zealand breakfast menu for over a decade. Despite the fact canned corn never goes out of season, the more adventurous establishment will branch out to zucchini or other fresh vegetables in summer. They are cheap, easy to make and team well with relishes, chutneys and a host of side dishes.

In the past I’ve just haphazardly thrown some flour, egg and soy milk into a bowl and beat til it formed a batter. Following on my promise of making some earmarked treasures from my old Annabel Langbein cookbook The Best of Annabel Langbein, I gave her soda water fritter batter a go. The first time round I followed it to the letter. Certainly the creaminess of milk (or soy) is not missed but I still found it quite a cakey batter. I’ve had a few goes at making my own variations; it’s a work in progress so feel free to direct me to your favourite recipe.

Basic Fritter batter
These rose nicely and were a little lighter than the original recipe.

1/2 cup unbleached plain flour
1/2 cup cornflour
1.5 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp salt
2 eggs
1/2 cup soda or sparkling mineral water

Sift the dry ingredients into a large bowl. Stir in the eggs and soda water and mix til your have a smooth batter.

If your batter is not smooth you can always force it through a sieve.

Allow to sit for half an hour before cooking.

Carrot fritters
Per cup of batter

1 carrot, grated
1 tsp coriander seeds
1/2 tsp fennel seeds
1/2 tsp cumin seeds

Grate the carrots.

Toast the seeds in a hot pan and then grind to a powder.

Add all ingredients to the batter, ideally while it’s resting to infuse the spices.

To cook the fritters

Add a neutral vegetable oil to a heavy bottom pan and bring up to a medium heat. Cook fritters in batches, place spoonfuls of the batter in pan, encouraging a roundish shape. Allow small bubbles to appear in the batter before turning (about 2-3 minutes each side). Cook til golden on each side.

Recipe Update (Nov 2011)

Less batter, more carrots = excellent outcome. Here's my latest version.

For the fritters - basically halve the flour

1/4 cup unbleached plain flour
1/4 cup cornflour
1.5 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp salt
2 eggs
1/4 - 1/2 cup soda or sparkling mineral water

For the spicy carroty part

3 carrot, grated
1 tsp coriander seeds
1/2 tsp fennel seeds
1/2 tsp cumin seeds

Follow the previous method.

Spiced carrot fritters – deluxe version

Top warm carrot fritters with good quality mayonnaise mixed with a spoonful of harissa paste and a squeeze of lemon. Adjust to taste; the spices should be noticeable in the mayo without burning your mouth.

Finish off with some strips of the queen of Kiwi delights, smoked eel.

I promise you this is a seriously good combination!

Notes

Not so cheap but marvellously cheerful is the other national dish whitebait fritters. Don’t confuse the batter recipes; whitebait only requires the lightest of licks of egg to keep them together.

I sometimes make a double batch of the basic batter and divide in two for a different set of flavoured fritters for lunch and then breakfast the next day.

Fritters make handy vegetarian meals and also a clever way to hide vegetables for fussy kids.

Some combos of my favourite fritter combos include:
Corn and caramelised onions
Zucchini (drain grated zucchini in a sieve first) and mint
Corn fritters served with a dollop of guacamole

* wash you mouths out my dissenting Aussie friends, New Zealand definitely is the home of the pav!

tabbouleh with quinoa

2010-11-24T07:25:00.003+11:00

In celebration of the return of my kitchen mojo I finally got around to concocting a gluten-free version of this Middle Eastern classic. Tabbouleh is a salad best eaten freshly made, with green herbs straight from the garden. It really zings!

Tabbouleh with quinoa

2 cups cooked quinoa*
2 tablespoon finely chopped parsley
2 tablespoon finely chopped mint
1 spring onion, finely chopped
1 Lebanese cucumber, finely diced
2 tomatoes, finely diced
1 clove of garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon olive oil
juice of 1-2 lemons
a pinch of salt, pepper and Zataar (optional) – to taste

Combine ingredients and then adjust flavours to taste. I prefer a tabouleh a little heavy on the lemon juice and light on the spring onion.

Makes a great salad or side dish that ticks all the good health boxes – vegan, gluten-free and a total detox dish.

*To cook quinoa
Rinse 1 cup of quinoa well in a fine seize and bring to the boil with 1.5 cups of water and a pinch of salt. Simmer covered for 12 minutes, then leave to steam off the heat with the lid firmly on for 5 minutes.

Cool before using in salads.

the return of the mojo

2010-11-22T09:11:00.004+11:00

The last few months have been a bit of a blur. There’s been lot of comings and goings, short trips to NZ/interstate (the former being like an interstate trip except you have to check in hours earlier and there’s duty-free goodies) and some shuffling around at home.

The Significant Eater is away for large chunks of the time now and though I’ve always been an advocate of the pleasures of cooking for one, my repertoire has been stuck on repeat. My high rotation menu of stir-fries, frittatas, curries, pasta/noodles and variations on vegetables with rice, reminds me of a week I spent in the Daintree with only the resort restaurant to eat at. The limited menu was on a three day cycle, making the second half of the stay very boring.

My mojo’s not been helped by the garden being between seasons. The parsley and coriander are on the way out and there’s just silverbeet for fresh greens, wholesome but not exactly inspiring. I can’t face another leaf of the super bitter radicchio. Waiting to fruit are tomatoes (grosse lisse, tommy toes and sugar lump), strawberries and grapes.

If the locusts don’t get them first.

Previously I’ve relished solo time, giving me the opportunity to beta test weird and wild concoctions (aka “imagination meals”) without having to explain the experiment to someone else. But the problem with loosing your mojo is that there is no desire to go beyond the known. End of the year fatigue has kidnapped my imagination and a whole raft of glossy cookbooks won’t get it back.

Fortunately in the past week the season seems to have begun to shift. The market haul yielded local strawberries, organic mangoes and a half decent avocado. Winters drabness is finally giving way to the stars of the fruit family that excite the senses.

Also on the up are my herbs in pots – Vietnamese mint, regular mint, rosemary tarragon. The latter I’ve had for a couple of years but am always at a loss as to how to use. Aniseed is not my favourite flavour, especially in savoury cooking. It’s refreshing to chew on a leaf but I’m yet to fall in love with the herb. Any tarragon tips?

With the whiff of promise breezing in I’ve finally been inspired to tackle two cooking projects I’ve had earmarked for an age. This weekend saw a second batch of savoury fritters, in an ongoing attempt to tweak Annabel Langbein's soda water batter and while listening to Tony Chiodo being interviewed on Eat It on Sunday I put on a pot of quinoa. I’d intended to make one of his salads but instead found some parsley still suitable for consumption and finally made a quinoa tabbouleh.

Double win!

Where’s your kitchen mojo at this spring/autumn?

Sneak preview - recipes later this week.

Crookssource updates

2010-11-18T16:12:00.006+11:00

The copyright saga continues between the editor of ~~Crooks Source~~ Cooks Source and the blogger/academic whose work the publication stole without permission.

If you are curious to read the Monica's original emails the provoked the "my bad" response from Judith Griggs, scroll down to the updates on my post for the links and latest news.

Update 20/11/10 The Cooks Source site appears to have been sold, leased or hacked as it's now redirected to a web wrangling business.

The Boston Globe article (published three days ago) mentioned that Cooks Source had recently published the following statement.

"The bad news is that this is probably the final straw for Cooks Source," says the unsigned note posted on Cooks Source website. "We have never been a great money-maker even with all the good we do for businesses. Having a black mark wont help ... and now, our black mark will become our shroud. ... This will end us."
... "I really wish she (Monica Gaudio) had given me a chance to respond to her before blasting me. She really never gave me a chance."

As previous links show, Gaudio had indeed, quietly and respectfully via email, made reasonable requests and it was Griggs arrogant response that most likely set the ball in motion.

Weeks later, Griggs is still crying that she is the victim in all this. When will she learn the irony of "her bad"?

flowers and seeds

2010-11-15T12:38:00.004+11:00

The rain! The heat! The insects!

Two weeks ago the garden looked a little out of control, yet I couldn't bring myself to rip out last seasons vegetables just yet. A fortnight on, the tiny veggie box is a monumental mess.

It's too wet to do much about it though.

The budding botanist in me is just a little in love with nature's cycle of bloom and decay.

The wonderful umbels. Can you see why I am deeply rooted in the old botanical order and have difficulty calling the Umbeliferae family Apiaceae?

Attempting to collect some seeds this year.

The belle of the ball. It was worth sacrificing a few spring onions, just to admire this magnificent Allium flower. Hopefully there'll be seeds to gather before the plague of locusts descend.

How does your Antipodean garden grow this spring?

pass it on

2010-11-13T11:20:00.003+11:00

Food waste is a crime and I am guilty as charged m’lud.

While lamenting my cooking mojo, contents of my fridge lie in risk of rotting. With a busy week ahead, featuring too many late nights’s home from work, I excavated the nether regions of my pantry to unearth some dried beans. While I was there I threw out the sad culprits who’d more than hit their use by date. In my defence the offending items were ones that I’d inherited when the Significant Eater first moved in many years ago.

Cooking beans is easy. Soak overnight. Drain, rinse and boil the next morning. It seemed to have upset people when I wrote previously that I could cook up a batch of beans before going to work. I do like a leisurely start to the day and am happy to sacrifice sleep for the pleasure of sipping a hot beverage while reading the digital news, wrangling the cat and organising my day.

It’s a Virgo thing.

The aforementioned planning involved making a batch of chilli beans – take a big dollop of homemade harissa, onion and assorted end of the week vegetables (pumpkin, parsnip and a lanky carrot, finely grated), simmer with tomato paste and vegetable stock. Throw on the heat diffuser mat and ignore for an hour or two.

But there was a problem. I’m home alone at the moment and not fond of leftovers. In fact I’ll do anything to avoid eating the same food two nights in a row (with the exception of the gingery tomato-y tofu dish, I think the sugary content makes it highly addictive). So night one was augmented with not-feta and night two, a handful of marinated olives.

There was no way there’d be a night three. A man-size serve remained. But throwing it out seemed criminal. In desperation, I texted my neighbour. Her adult son became vegan this year and lives a few blocks away, was he coming to dinner tonight? It turned out he wasn’t but her husband loves hot food (she doesn’t) and would be very happy for a chilli hit.

Problem solved.

One of the unexpected pleasures of passing it on is the boomerang effect. On my doorstep this morning was the plastic container with a note of thanks scribbled on some butchers paper, inside was nestled four of the cutest eggs.

Perhaps my cooking mojo just needs a little bit of neighbourhood recycling to kick it back to life?

Frittata anyone?

Starring

Summer Beans
Chilli Beans – soaked plus a twist of smoky paprika
Chili Beans – the breakfast leftover version

Co-starring
Tofu and
Eggplant in a Gingery Tomato Sauce

Crew – the Mighty Fridge Fixings

Stripped Back Harissa Paste
Marinated Olives

eat smart: StreetSmart

2010-11-09T07:48:00.003+11:00

Sorry if elements of this post looks familiar, it just means you were on my other blog recently.

A couple of weeks ago I was in Sydney and as I wandered through the city, I came across a group of rowdy high school or uni students taking a video of themselves singing and dancing in a side street. The street provided a natural ampitheatre, blocked off from traffic, sub-tropical flora to provide shade on a hot day. A couple of pricey looking restaurants overlooked the public seating area. An oasis in a busy city.

Then I noticed someone else.

Was he performance art too?

No, just a homeless man trying to have a kip in the shade, while the fat cats chowed down on lunch pretending to not see him.

The homeless are someone's father/mother/brother/sister/child/classmate/friend. StreetSmart makes a difference by supporting grassroots organisations working in their local areas.

Check out the StreetSmart site to find a participating restaurant. The Melbourne line-up has changed a bit this year but covers eateries that cater to a variety of tastes and budgets.

StreetSmart is on now until 24th December. Please eat generously.

What I wrote about StreetSmart 2009.

crookssource - downfall edition

2010-11-07T14:36:00.008+11:00

What a wild few days it has been in the world of blogging. Copyright and the issue of "public domain" has been front page news. If you've been in a monastry this week you may have missed the Cooks Source debacle, where an editor lifted Monica Gaudio's old blog post and when caught out by the author responded, "It was "my bad" indeed, and, as the magazine is put together in long sessions, tired eyes and minds somethings forget to do these things" and suggested, "We put some time into rewrites, you should compensate me!"

The email that's spawned a thousand tweets, facebook hijackings, blogposts and mainstream media responses has now entered the viral hall of fame with it's own Downfall take off.

Social media never sleeps. The spinoffs are endless including a facebook page dedicated to collating all the other articles editor Judith Griggs has reprinted without permission. Are there any local bloggers part of this burgeoning alumni?

UPDATE: Looking for the perfect Christmas gift for a blogger? There's now the "But honestly Monica..." range of aprons, mugs, t-shirts.... LOL.

15 November 2010: The Hampshire Daily Gazette published a sympathetic interview with Griggs. Sure she's genuinely sorry but that appears to be more about the effect of the fallout. She's still claims that some aspects of copyright is a "gray area". She blames one of her contributers for another potential copyright infringement and as to the alleged 160 cases of misappropriated articles,"Griggs said she believes that number is inflated and, without having seen the list, could not respond."

18 November 2010: At the request of numerous readers Monica has reluctantly published her emails to the editor of Cooks Source. The implication was she had written something inflammatory to Griggs. Take a look for yourself.

Personally, I was a tad disappointed to see not a single "my bad" on Monica's side of the correspondence.

Update 20/11/10 The Cooks Source site appears to have been sold, leased or hacked as it's now redirected to a web wrangling business.

The Boston Globe article (published three days ago) mentioned that Cooks Source had recently published the following statement.

"The bad news is that this is probably the final straw for Cooks Source," says the unsigned note posted on Cooks Source website. "We have never been a great money-maker even with all the good we do for businesses. Having a black mark wont help ... and now, our black mark will become our shroud. ... This will end us."
... "I really wish she (Monica Gaudio) had given me a chance to respond to her before blasting me. She really never gave me a chance."

hiatus

2010-11-05T07:27:00.003+11:00

I had a dream last night that I hadn't cooked for so long that I didn't realise the kitchen had been renovated in my absence.

In my waking life I am cooking frequently and there has been no secret remodeling of my kitchen while I sleep (I checked just in case the fairies had snuck in overnight) but perhaps it is my repertoire that needs a makeover?

While I contemplate my mojo, feast your eyes on one of the pretty fruit trees (species anyone?) in Lucy’s country garden, that I had the pleasure to visit on my day off.

Pretty, aint it.

what the?

2010-11-01T18:08:00.004+11:00

Please read What the? Part 2 to see what happened next!

But first, let's go back to the beginning of the story.

Hey I've got a great idea. How about I publish a magazine with a heap of cool content that I don't have to pay for, nor will I bother to ask permission to reprint it. Pure genius!

This little beauty just flapped its way into my inbox. I must admit I only open 1/4 of PR-looking emails.

FYI

XXX* magazine is Melbourne’s newest food and drink title - with a significant difference. It is the first to showcase independent local blogs and articles with a definitive focus on the city’s food culture. Effectively a printed portal, it features snippets of interesting, online material, with full reference and credit always given to the authors. And for the first time, using new smartphone technology, 2D codes printed in XXX provide a direct link to the original online article. A very similar premise to how a blogger might make reference to an external article they want to share - placing a link in their own blog and directing readers on. A product of Melbourne’s world-class food and drink industry, and the insightful contributions of the city’s bloggers and online authors, its debut will mark a progressive shift in contemporary publishing.

Never before have online authors been given such prominence in the print medium. Building on the passion of food enthusiasts, XXX’s publishers are undertaking this new initiative, hoping to promote what they believe is an outstanding standard of local blogging, and further establishing it as valid and valuable - as much so as traditional food writing. Moreover, with hundreds of articles posted online all the time, it can be hard for some people to come across information, news or reviews that they might enjoy and find helpful – especially those unfamiliar with the online forum, or still getting used to it. XXX makes it easier to sort through the vast catalogue of food stories by presenting those the editors find interesting and relevant, in a physical, familiar format.

Launching this December with a ‘Holiday Edition’, 20,000 audited copies will be circulated throughout more than 1,500 cafes, bars, restaurants and stores in the CBD and inner city suburbs. ‘Regular’ fortnightly editions will follow from January 2011. As a result, XXX’s featured bloggers will probably notice a marked increase in traffic to their sites, expanding the potential for those already advertising to capitalise on their work, and creating opportunities for those that yet don’t (through options like Google AdSense, Nuffnang and Foodbuzz).

In the interests of integrity, XXX doesn’t commission writers or works. Content isn’t product driven or based on any commercial directives. Instead it’s made up of positive, in-depth pieces with attractive photography, written by passionate and knowledgeable local ‘authorities’. XXX’s editors then scour the web, working to select and compile pieces relevant to particular topics and editions, covering subjects like restaurant reviews and recipes. Additionally, topics such as cafés, markets, new books, films, products, farming, events, health issues, legislation, and anything else food and drink related will be included. Put simply, the magazine is a reflection of food and drink culture, via the words and opinions of those that participate in Melbourne’s online publishing. It’s an independent and free publication, funded only through advertising.

XXX’s editorial policy ensures any authors who choose not to be included, for whatever reason, are respected, and won’t be featured. However, the publishers aim to benefit all facets of the food industry, including the independent writers. The hope is Melbourne’s online food community members are excited to be a part of it, support the idea, and simply continue to do what they love doing – taste, sip, snap, talk and write about food culture.

Sincerely
(etc etc)

* Name deleted

Can someone set me straight. It's a new publisher who wants to swipe our blog content, without seeking permission? An opt out not opt in kinda thing? And we should be flattered because " As a result, XXX’s featured bloggers will probably notice a marked increase in traffic to their sites".

Copyright issues anyone?

Update: the publisher assures me that they seek only to link to a blog post not the content. So it seems the punter will be flashing their smart phone at the code in the freebie if they see a reference to something they like the sound of? Interesting.

I have difficulty letting go

2010-10-30T12:36:00.004+11:00

Now it's the height of spring, the winter vegetables and herbs have bolted with the return of the sun and plentiful rain.

Reluctantly I annex a runway down the centre of the 9 square metre of garden to plant tomatoes. One Grosse Lisse and two of my favourites, Tommy Toes.

This means pulling up yet more man-sized patches of nettles. The sting is still virulent months after the plant is removed from the soil. (Note to self: If I'm to insist on letting the nettles grow of their own accord I really must plant some dock).

The kale has gone to flower. I'm enjoying the splash of yellow out my backdoor too much to unearth them as yet. The coriander, I bargain, can stay til there are seeds to harvest. The parsley is still edible, though the flavour grows stronger and more bitter by the day.

But really, I just can't let go.

Gardening, even on such a miniscule scale is like having a living Buddhist parable on my doorstep. One moment it looks perfect. Young green leaves to eat in salad, plump grapes on the vine. Weeds banished. The next, the fruit is rotting. The weeds have taken over. The herbs have bolted.

Impermanence.

Despite knowing nothing stays the same, that there is no point holding onto the past, I'm not ready to pull out the spent winter plants yet.

Just another week of soaking in their soothing shades of green.

Or until the tomatoes have grown enough.

Sydney: it's flakier than you'd think

2010-10-25T17:15:00.002+11:00

There are subtle differences to the dining cultures in Melbourne and Sydney. Years ago a cabbie said to me “Melbourne people eat out all the time, it excels in great quality, casual eating any night of the week. Sydneysiders go for the big bang, high budget places but eat out less frequently”. I’m not sure if that’s strictly true but Sydney wins the prize for the most exalted restaurants in the country, though also more limited operating hours.

Oscillating Wildly, Billy Kwong and most of the hatted restaurants in Surrey Hills all seem to open at night only. All those weekend lunches missed. I’m struggling to think of Melbourne big name eateries operating under those restrictions. Surely Sydney invented the long lunch? All that sunshine.

Oh well. The no reservations thing still stands for many, or reservation only months in advance for the others.

Fortunately being a Melbourne-phile I like a quirky bit of casual eating and had no trouble filling my face quite amply at any hour.

What Sydney does excellently is pastry. Flaky, glutinous pockets of joy, oh how the harbour city delivered this in spades.

From the casual meandering through the pastry filled stalls at the Summer Hill Breakfast Bazaar (the only Taste of Sydney event I made it too, the other ones planned for the weekend got a tad washed out with the spring showers).

pastry nests full of raw pistachios and honey, sticky but delicious

To being lucky enough to have Black Star Pastry as my local bakery. I can’t begin to extol the wonderment to just how good this place is. The Danishes rival those I ate in France and the tarts were ridiculously good. Their sourdough is worth a detour too (and IMHO much better than the exalted Sonama in Glebe).

mango danish, I'm in heaven

But the crispy, pastry with high production values award has to go to Mamak. This is a well known Malaysian eatery in Chinatown, equally famous for it’s roti as it is for the long queues outside. The roti making being the theatrical entertainment as hungry people wait for at least half an hour, pressing their faces against the glass like urchins to watch the production going on in the kitchen inside.

It was a 40 minute wait on a balmy Thursday evening. It’s amazing how relaxed I could be about such a thing, thank goodness for being in holiday mode. A bit of a chat to others in the line and curious tourists asking what we were waiting for and then finally, we were in, menus efficiently delivered, an order taken the moment we’d decided what we’d eat and our requests wirelessly transmitted to the kitchen by the waiter who returned less than 5 minutes later with the goods. This is a streamlined operation. I’ve been seated far quicker in Melbourne joints but had to wait an hour for the whole menu/order/food arriving routine. So the Mamak oiled machine certainly compensates for time spent queuing. And it’s cheap. Not as good value as downtown Malacca but $30 for two is not to be sniffed at.

We ate nasi lemak, roti (how could we not having watched the show in the window for all that time – best marketing strategy ever) and finished with a cendol that put a smile on our face. I just wished I could have fitted another visit in while I was there.

a quick iphone snap, about to guts down my nasi lemak with prawns and a big hunk of roti

...but there's always the next trip to look forward to.

Black Star Pastry
277 Australia St Newtown
Open seven days 7am-5pm
* wear elasticated waistband or a kaftan while gorging on the pastries for guilt-free eating :)

Mamak
15 Goulburn St, Haymarket
* on a warm night you don't mind the wait, honestly.

A tale of two English Christmases

2010-10-18T13:51:00.002+11:00

Compare and contrast. Two New Zealanders adrift in Britain. Hurrah it’s Christmas! What’s on the menu?

My grandfather: New Zealand Rifle Brigade, Sling Camp, Salisbury Plain 1916

Breakfast fish, (unreadable) and bacon, fried onions and mashed potatoes. Dinner Turkey, Goose, cauliflower, potatoes and peas and stuffing, plum pudding and brandy sauce, nuts, fruit, oranges, apples, bananas. Tea roast pork, fruit salad and Devonshire cream, chocolate and bulls eyes, mince pies. Supper ham, cheese, biscuits.
More from my grandfather’s war diary - bully beef and biscuits at the front.

The granddaughter, London 1985

Christmas was nice. Never had a Lesbian xmas before but I suppose there is a first time for everything! Jac was stunning in a 3 piece suit, with pink bowtie to match the streak in her hair. Started off lounging around eating chocolates and drinking sherry, then got onto the port. Dinner was an avocado salad for starters, followed by a splendid nut roast, sauce, chestnut stuffing, roast spuds and other veggies – downed with bubbly. After there was pud with brandy butter, cake, pink triangle sweets and marzipan stuffed dates. Did I miss anything?
You can read more nostalgic twaddle about living in London the ‘80s if you really want to.

a little Langbein love

2010-10-12T08:27:00.003+11:00

I’ve got a bit of a crush on Annabel Langbein at the moment. Maybe it’s a kiwi thing but I’m enjoying watching her new television program Free Range Cook. While I avert my eyes to the meat and dairy (featuring rather heavily, it is New Zealand after all) the landscape is an absolute winner. Though despite the thin cardigan and cotton shirts Otago still looks rather chilly.

Langbein is well known to New Zealanders. Her recipes have appeared in numerous print publications for years and there’s at least one of her cookbooks on most kiwi friend’s shelves. Her earlier (1998) edition of The Best of Annabel Langbein adorns my own.

Her recipes are simple and she shares ideas on how to adapt parts of the dish for leftovers. Her phrase “fridge fixings” (familiar to those of us who already own her books) is a personal favourite. She’ll often say “this is good for a week in the fridge or you can freeze it in portions”.

When you are tired and hugry, it’s virtually impossible to feel creative. You just want to eat right now, without having to think about how or what. Taking a little time each week to prepare flavour bases such as tasty pestos and enticing dressings greatly streamlines the cooking process and has a dramatic effect on the results”.

Langbein on Fridge Fixings, The Best of Annabel Langbein.

Of course her garden is to die for, belying her horticultural background. Though try as hard as I can, the slightly plummy accent makes it hard to imagine her jumping out of helicopters to recover deer shot for venison or living in a hippy commune as she did in her youth.

Thanks to the show I’ve dug out my old cookbook and am marking the pages to explore this summer.

• A fritter batter that uses soda water rather than milk.
• Thai prawn fritters, with coconut cream (instead of milk/soda).
• Smoked fish salad with aioli, cucumber and spring onions.

Some stand out, simple Langbein recipes from the web

Asparagus, Avocado & Almonds with Sesame Citrus Dressing - simplicity personified!

Caponata - not a unique dish but a good “fridge fixing” during the summer tomato glut.

Crisp cauliflower and cashew salad - the ultimate in raw food cuisine, this looks like my new detox dish du jour.

Her recipe for the Asian-style citrus dressing that I found intriguing – hadn’t thought of using orange, lemon and lime juice with the classic fish sauce and chilli but she swears it gives it more depth (will try it next time I make a smoked fish salad).

whitebait season

2010-09-29T07:56:00.003+10:00

Despite living in the global food basket, there’s the odd treat from across the ditch that is challenging to source in Melbourne. Feijoas make a brief and often pricey visit in winter, tamarillos almost as fleeting and yams, the tiny red tubers that most kiwis love, haven’t been sighted for years. The aforementioned vegetable used to turn up at one stall at Vic market for two or three weeks each September, where homesick New Zealanders would inundate the bemused greengrocer. But no more.

The most illusive delicacy of all is a wriggly little sucker. Genuine, New Zealand whitebait. No not those chunky little fish that Aussies call by the same name. Nor the foul tasting variety of little ‘uns that arrive frozen from Thailand.

Even in the homeland whitebait has an expensive and short lived season. At $160 a kilo, this is a prized entrée, eeked out with egg to make the flavour go further. Though the first time I ate the wrigglers, I’d helped catch them myself in a mountain stream. Free, bar the cold I caught from a day spent too close to icy water.

On my last trip home I picked up 200 gms of whitebait as a treat for my parents. You can just beat an egg and toss through the fish if you like but I like a little more “hold” in my batter. It’s light, crunchy and very easy to make.

Kiwi whitebait fritters
(quantities per 100 gm of whitebait)

100 gm of whitebait

1 egg, separated
1 tab cornflour
salt and pepper

Vegetable oil
(knob of butter optional)
Lemon wedges to server

Place the whitebait in a sieve and strain. Separate the egg(s) and beat the whites to soft peaks. Take the yolk(s) and beat in the cornflour with a wooden spoon. Stir in the salt and pepper. Gently fold in the beaten eggwhites into the yolk mixture.

At this point you can either carefully add the whitebait, or if you want a less eggy fritter (if you’ve caught your own and have plenty, so you don’t need to eek out the precious produce) place the whitebait into another bowl and gently fold in the batter a spoonful at a time until the whitebait it just holds the fish together.

Heat up your frypan, add oil (if you want a more golden fritter the addition of animal fat, such as a knob of butter to the oil). Add about a tablespoon of mixture and fry the fritters til golden. Then turn over and cook the other side, about two minutes each. Traditional whitebait fritters are the size of a pikelet but these days fitters come in all shapes and sizes.

Serve with a wedge of lemon and eat immediately.

Excuse the poor quality picture, the light was fading and the natives were restless. For a clearer image check out this little beauty.

simply 'shrooms for breakfast

2010-09-28T07:30:00.001+10:00

Dench olive and rosemary bread toasted with sautéed mushrooms.

Bog standard, cultivated Swiss Browns are fine as long as you treat them with respect. Cook over a low heat. Just a bit of butter and garlic, finished with parsley, salt and pepper.