on following a recipe

For someone who enjoys cooking, proclaiming to all who will listen “I’m going to challenge myself to cook from a recipe” might sound a little strange. Sure I read recipes but usually I am substituting ingredients and tweaking them before I even enter the kitchen. Quite seriously, I attended the Recipe Writing session at “Out of the Frying Pan” because I thought a little remedial action would be good for me.

But first a little recap from the session:

While writers should assume that recipes will be read by novices, they are not always written with the home cook in mind. A professional chef will think nothing of calling for litres of fresh stock forgetting most homes aren’t equipped with a cool room or have minions doing prep each day. While tomes like Stephanie Alexander’s have a comprehensive basics section, different skill levels tend be implied by some of the big name chefs.

There was some chat about pet peeves; the first was missing ingredients, followed by a lack of warning about steps that need to be prepared in advance, such as the aforementioned stock.

Interestingly the recipe I selected stumbled on those 2 points.

Picture this – bedtime the night before my regular market trip. A book of recipe cuttings, class notes from cooking classes and laptop with ‘clippings’ from websites. I wanted something very simple but not what I would usually make, no more than a moderate list of ingredients and it to be a main dish with the necessity of a minimum of sides. Amongst my word files I found it – Poached Blue Eye with Saffron, Fennel & Tomato. A quick look over the flavourings – saffron, fennel seeds and garlic, all on hand so there were just a few fresh ingredients to grab on the day.

On rereading the recipe the next day, the first problem I noticed was the recipe I had (from an unknown source) omitted the fresh fennel. Just how many bulbs did I need, that the method told me to slice? A quick internet search found me a near identical version, written slightly different to the one I had grabbed. Who copied whom I wonder? The panelists had also listed non-attributed recipes to the pet peeves, which I can totally understand (not looking at any gyoza recipe snatchers in the blogosphere!). I went with the Sydney Fish Market version (though there were other very similar ones online), jotted down a shopping list and headed off.

My selection criteria took into account that the key ingredients would be available at this time of year – it was simply onion, tomato, fennel and fish. It would be too frustrating to search for something obscure or way out of season. Also I was relatively confident that Blue Eye/Trevela would be available, after all what was the point of slavishly following a recipe if I substituted the star for the understudy on the opening night? I usually buy fish based on freshness and price. I bristled at searching for just one, quite pricey species. When using fillets – I usually point at the desired size but to honour the recipe I got the fishmonger to find pieces as close as possible to the prescribed 180 g each. The whole experience just kept reinforcing how much I prefer to devise a menu on what looks best on the day.

Later in the afternoon, an hour or two before starting to cook I thought it best to thoroughly scour the recipe again for cooking times and other such things. I noticed then that I had to source 3 cups of fish stock (the panellist’s second pet peeve), which fortunately I did have in the freezer. An unknown quantity of simple fish stock, made a couple of months earlier from flathead bones. I was pretty sure it would come very close to the desired amount, so I took it out to thaw. The other bonus was the small amount of white wine, meaning there was an excuse to open a bottle of sauv blanc on a ‘school night’. At this point I began thinking what sides it would need to make the meal complete. The recipe(s) suggested mash or crusty bread, both were possible.

So onto the cooking, could I actually do it? Two extremely minor transgressions. I sliced the fennel rather than dicing – I just couldn’t help myself. However as much as I desperately wanted to put in more than 2 cloves of garlic I managed to resist. The recipe called for ‘salt flakes’ but I used ground sea salt instead. The oven was up to speed, the potatoes were ready to mash - all set, the dish went in the oven for it’s 10 minutes of cooking. All there was to do was pour a glass of wine and set the table.

The verdict. Initially I thought it a little ordinary. But the poaching liquid – stock, wine, fennel, garlic and saffron, was perfectly balanced. The Significant Eater waxed lyrical saying it was delicious and that he wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Well, not a thing but maybe some leeks – Yes I agreed just what I had thought, next time leeks instead of onions, maybe a touch more garlic. Was 1/2 a teaspoon enough saffron…and we were off, back to our old tricks!

more tales from the frying pan

Warning: This post contains opinions, lacks objectivity, is not written by a journalist and would benefit from a once over with a red correction pen. It would never appear in print media and will probably only be read by a couple of dozen hundred people.



I return to my modest, non-niched, only accidentally witty and rarely entertaining blog to formally acknowledge today’s post is sponsored by The Age. If not cash, then definitely a smoked salmon filled roll and a drink or 2 for comment. I managed to pop into the Food Festival’s Frying Pan sessions a little late, after a fulfilling a work obligation and left at afternoon tea. I’ll admit my limitations and say this is no fair review of the entire day as I can only write about putting my head into 3, half sessions on various aspects of the world of food writing and have come away a little baffled. I am not entirely sure what audience the presentations were pitched at (but then again, I spread myself thinly and did not witness a complete session so the bewilderment is likely of my own making). There was more than a pinch of smugness exuding from a few of the professionals on the very heavily Farifax biased panels but this was tempered by the generosity of many of the others that braved the stage.

I headed off to Recipe Writing because you may have noticed it is not my forte to slavishly quantify. I picked up some bitchy gossip about some famous food writers (if you want to appear witty and in the know, slagging off Nigella and Delia is currently in vogue) and as a bonus learnt more about writing styles than from the other sessions I attended. I came away a fan of Lucy Malouf for her modesty, calm and practical advice. While I don’t think I learnt anything new about actually writing a recipe, it was an eye opener to realise that cookbooks are rarely recipe tested by anyone other than the author. That explained a lot.

I had divided loyalties in the afternoon over which food bloggers to support by attending their session. Hence the double act starting with So You Want to Write About Food. Two panellists were Fairfax food publication editors – whose advice could almost be summed up by “Whatever makes you think you could be anywhere near good enough to get published?” along with “be funny, entertaining, irreverent and informative” (but still don’t imagine we’d ever print you). Julie Gibbs from Penguin, gave a similar message but with more humility and at least one story of hope for anyone whose manuscript has languished in a publishers slush pile. And then there was Jamie Wodetzki from The Breakfast Blog who as a “reformed lawyer” may be better equipped than the average blogger to hold his own in a hostile environment. It was mentioned that in earlier sessions there had been a fair amount of slagging off about blogs and he did a more than valiant job at representing us all. (If you are reading this Jamie, I’m the woman grinning inanely at you every time they tried to take a swipe at the blogworld and had a polite coughing fit to cover my laughter when there was the speech about the pristine ethics of wonderful journalists).

I snuck out and headed off to see Ed and others speak to the converted about the joys of blogging moderated by the irrepressible Helen Razer. Full marks to the organisers for taking onboard the criticism from last year's festival. The session was both practical and passionate (including input from the floor). I love Stephanie Wood’s Elegant Sufficiency but felt at times she straddled the dual roles of journalist and blogger a little uncomfortably*, though when she actually talked about writing her blog – she beamed. I left the session with my head spinning with all the reasons I blog. Do I secretly want to be a writer? Yes and no, I have been paid very generously in the past to write on other issues which was an utter joy but food writing is a hobby rather than a vocation. Do I see myself as a journalist? Not at all, nor have I ever claimed to be. I write a blog mostly out of enjoyment but am very happy to know other people get something out of it as well. A narcissist perhaps but if I learnt anything about the world of food writing today it is that I am not alone in that!

The highlight for me was putting faces to the names of some other bloggers and catching up with those who also get a perverse enjoyment of living a well-seasoned life. Thanks to Ed and Matt for facilitating that.


*Update: A spirited debate along the lines of 'does the quality (or lack) of writing in food blogs threaten the future of good journalism' (at least that's the part of the thread I've taken - there are other strands as well) continues in Stephanie's Blog - a must read for food bloggers.

Apologies for those who've stopped by to read more on cooking whole fish, how to make gyoza, thoughts on vegan food or just a peak to get ideas on where to eat in Melbourne healthily or not on an expense account. Normal food oriented, amateur writing will resume shortly.

into the fire

Last year I got a bit of a bee in my bonnet (or perhaps my apron) about a talkfest put on during the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival looking at the future of food and the media. I was stunned to see that food bloggers failed to rate a mention, let alone a seat on the panel.

I built up a good head of steam on the subject:

I find this curious. After all we are the punters. We are not the insiders from the mainstream media. We are the ones who pay for our meals, have no editorial restrictions and are read in the thousands each day. Bloggers are at the coalface. We actually try out the recipes from the latest hyped cookbooks (well some of you do), rather than have them displayed prominently and hope osmosis will do the trick. But we remain invisible, according to the festival guide and in a whole day of workshops discussing this theme, are nowhere to be seen.

Well guess what? They listened. Matt Preston commented on the post with promises things would be different this year. And they are. We have our own Ed from Tomato and Stephanie Wood from Elegant Sufficiency (yes she is in the Fairfax stable but she blogs beautifully) on the panel of one of this year’s Out of the Frying Pan sessions.

Though despite his response, inviting us to get more involved, “We are also keen to keep all those bloggers who are interested updated with Festival announcements. This was the first year that we started to compile a dedicated media list of online media and we'd love that to grow. If any one wants to email us so we can add them to out media database that would be great. Send your details …” I am sad to say this hasn’t happened.

But Matt’s made amends. If you’re interested in going to the all day event on Monday March 3rd and would like to score yourself a free ticket pop over to tomato for a very special ticket give away offer for food bloggers. It would be nice having an informal blogmeet sponsored by the festival, as well as the opportunity to add our 2 cents worth from the audience.



Update: It looks like I am one of the lucky recipients of a free ticket. Thanks Ed. As of 26.2.08 only 8 of the 20 tickets on offer have been taken. There might be room for a last minute pitch for bloggers who want to attend.



The Melbourne Food and Wine Festival is on from 22 February - 8 March. Tickets for Out of the Frying Pan can be purchased online.