Report from Emerald City: Part one: finding my organic groove

A few weeks shy of the six-month mark since my move, I thought it was time for an update.

The  food adventures in my new home have been rather eclectic. This is largely due to my own dietary perculiarities combined with the Not Boyfriend now being in his third year of veganism. It has also been a year or so of unexpected hiccoughs, interrupting our cash flow – so we’ve been a tad parsimonious.

Sydney is a noticeably more expensive city to live in. From the price of produce to the inflated real estate market, eating out or at home just costs more. No longer having my tiny but productive 9 square metres of veggie garden doesn’t help either. Though I’ve got my name down on the waiting list at the nearest community garden (but that could take a decade to come to fruition!)

Organic produce

I mourn my mid-week pilgrimage to Vic Markets. Not just the healthy competition between the organic stalls and diversity of conventional produce available but the one-stop shop aspect of the market. There’s nowhere that even remotely replicates the quality and variety of the fresh fruit and vegetables, plus the diversity of the market hall vendors. I yearn for a single market to buy quality fish, great olives, fantastic bread, my weekly staples (oats, nuts and tofu) and graze delectable edibles. 

Pick of the crop

Orange Grove Public School

Cnr Perry Street & Balmain Road, Leichhardt, 2040, Saturday, 7 am to 1 pm. 

This has more organic stalls than all the food markets I’ve shopped at, plus interesting homemade food and a delightful array of plant stalls. It's nice to see plants and foods come together.

Bonus: ample on-street parking.

Marrickville Organic Market 

142 Addison Road, Addison Road Centre, Marrickville, 2204, Sunday, 7.30 am to 3 pm.

It's a little bit hippy with a relaxed atmosphere, the famed chai tent (or sloping lawn) and a wide variety of home cooked food to graze on. There's a dearth of Sunday markets, so that's a bonus.  A couple of beefs with it though. Despite the name, only one stall is 100% organic (but it’s a great one). Parking is a nightmare, necessitating being there by 8am if you need to drive. Not a lot of fun on a day off. But otherwise a charming weekend diversion.

Don't miss the amazing smoked olives available at the smoked salmon stall - at Leichhardt on Saturday and Marrickville on Sunday.

Fresh chamomile at Marrickville

Eveleigh Market at Carriageworks


245 Wilson St, Eveleigh, Saturday 8 am – 1 pm

Well curated and a good place to bring visitors, it’s handy for topping up on a few extras for the fridge and pantry but a bit pricy for a weekly shop. Favourites include the truffle oil, exotic mushrooms, flowers, pho stall (vegan and omni) and watching Kylie Kwong cook. There’s a knife sharpener as well, plus good coffee and pastries. Definitely a foodie outing for both locals and tourists.

Bonus: If you’re lucky you’ll catch Barbara Sweeney AKA The Talking Cookbook – I love what she’s about and if you're a reader of food blogs, you'll also enjoy having a chat with her.

Back to the weekly shop

After many weekends spent exploring produce markets and weekdays trawling through expensive health food stores (don't get me started), we’ve settled on ordering a weekly organic veggie box. After a couple of months buying one elsewhere for more than twice the price, we’ve settled on a Wednesday box from our local food co-op Alfalfa House and topping up on fruit and other goodies elsewhere as needed. The $25 box of organic veg is great value and always fresh (though oddly I often find the fresh produce in store expensive and of variable quality). We can combine a mid-week collection while restocking the pantry. There’s a great selection of grains, spices and pantry staples but it’s the tempeh collection that  exceeds my Vic market stalwart. The Byron Bay fava and seaweed (soy free) tempeh is exceptional. There's lots of other yummy stuff in the fridge including a locally made coconut yoghurt (the makers are sometimes at Eveleigh Market).

While I still dream of Melbourne’s cornucopia of goodies at an affordable price, the kitchen is now fully stocked with an interesting variety of fresh organic food. I’ve always loved the challenge of culinary improvisation, so a box of mystery goods (bar the turnips and capsicum!) is a joy to create from. 

The dreaded turnip

Despite the odd moments of frustration it has been fun exploring the shopping options in my new locale. And while I think I've finally cracked it, there's something new opening around the corner,  pandering to the gamut of Sydney food fads from vegan to paleo, with a side of kale and activated nuts.

London Markets – the biggie at Borough

You’ve got to remember that My London was the one of Thatcher’s Britain. Grey skies. Muddy moods. Gritty.

Food markets were everywhere. They’d pop up in the morning along a street and often disappear without a trace around lunchtime. Barrow boys would spruik their wares. Long before twenty-first century eco-consciousness, markets didn’t run to the expense of plastic bags. You bought your basket, opened the mouth wide and they’d pour the produce in straight from the scales.

These neighbourhood markets were the lifeblood of every suburb in London. Mine was in Dalston.  Each week our large shared household would head down and buy produce by the pack load. There were many treasures I’d never come across before in New Zealand, especially all the exciting roots and leaves favoured by the local Jamaican community. Even the somewhat less exotic caused a thrill for a gal who’d never seen fresh beetroot before. The beets were sold boiled and slopped from steaming vats. Into a BYO container they’d slip and quickly taken home, sliced and doused with vinegar while still warm.

While it’s rumoured that the first incarnation of Borough Market opened in the eleventh century, its latest retail incarnation is comparatively recent and didn't exist in the Thatcher era. Let’s face it, you couldn't even get a decent coffee in London back then.

Fast forward to September 2014 and I finally make it to the hallowed halls (after a right neighbourhood/wrong day experience two years earlier). Did it live up to the hype?

Yup.

I swapped recipes with the mushroom seller (her: ‘the giant fleshy mushrooms cooks and tastes just like chicken”, me: “the chantarelle’s taste amazing with potatoes”), gorged on some gluten/dairy-free rocky road (no marshmallow but biscuits and honeycomb), salivated at the beautiful tarts, olives, bread, currants, tomatillos…

Like those who have gone before, I feasted my eyes and my belly.

Revelation – the next time I make a falafel I’ll skip the obligatory iceberg/tomato combo and stick to hommos, Middle Eastern pickles and a large handful of fresh mint. This was one of the cheapest meals I ate in my week in London and arguably the best.

I don’t need to tell you how to find Borough Market – just bring your appetite, jump a tube to London Bridge and follow the hungry hoards across Borough High Street. 

New York - Brooklyn Flea and Smorgasburg

After two days of torrential rain in New York (hello tropical storm Andrea), we farewelled the octogenarian traveller. Miraculously the clouds parted as he headed for Newark airport and we jumped a taxi downtown to our new digs in West Village. It was a relief to leave the tourist tat of Times Square behind.

Dropping our bags at our Airbnb apartment and slipping into walking shoes, it was time to activate the virgin subway card and hit Brooklyn.

It wasn’t so much a shopping trip but a street food pilgrimage.

After a quick look at the Fort Greene greenmarket we hoofed it to the Saturday Flea. Though a better than average vintage and craft market, the best thing about it was the grazing.

First off, some vegan ‘noodles’. In need of something raw and nutritious this amply hit the spot.

Once the nutritional halo had been polished it was time for sugary refreshments. Couldn’t go past the rhubarb and Thai basil soda. The savoury hit after the initial fruitiness on the palate was inspiring.

Scouting for vegan goodies was derailed by the discovery of mahi-mahi taco (sans crème), fresh soft tortilla, grilled tuna and an inspiring green apple salsa. The green apple salsa got me googling for recipes.

With the afternoon getting on we jumped the subway to Bedford Ave and lucked upon the coolest place in New York, closed to traffic for the day. Hipsters chilling out on astroturf, a swathe of great shops and even a vegan ice cream truck – who could ask for more?

After a wander and partaking of the food truck’s delights, the day was getting on. Smorgasurg awaited and the biggest surprise wasn’t just the awesome array of vegan foods on offer, amongst the usual piggy parts, but the amazing view of Manhattan just across the East River.

It almost broke my foodie heart to not be hungry but somehow forced down a tart cherry cola (not as exciting as the rhubarb) and sampled the blackberry chocolate vegan ice cream. We thought the Van Leeuewen was good but the Alchemy Creamery nudged them out of first place.

The Saturday Smorgasburg has a laid back vibe, wonderful views and food worth fasting a day for, to work up a worthy appetite.

After a gazillion photos of the Manhattan skyline, we had a quick rummage at the artist and flea market on 7^th Street. (Tip: probably the closest toilet to Smorgasburg), then back to the wonders of Williamsburg Walks and delights on Bedford Ave. With its stylish boutiques, browse-worthy bookshops, cafes and yet another vegan restaurant, Williamsburg on a sunny Saturday put the glitz of 42^nd Street to shame.

Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, San Francisco

An unexpected bonus of a travelling north in winter is catching a second taste of summer. Just as the fruit and veg at home starts getting dreary, along comes another hit of sun blushed abundance.

Late spring in San Francisco dished up all-you-can-eat cherries, asparagus and artichokes. We also gorged on fresh dates and beautiful beetroots. The Rainier cherries in particular were a burst of sunshine in each mouthful. At $7 a pound for organic, they were also way cheaper than at home during our short cherry season.

I only made it to the smaller midweek market at the FerryPlaza, the Saturday one is much larger but was suitably wowed by the variety and quality of the produce. 

Blue Bottle Coffee (they also have a permanent stall inside) sufficiently caffeinated me to Melbourne levels. Toby had given me a heads up to look out for them in the US and their cafes are liberally sprinkled throughout San Francisco and New York.

There were liberal opportunities to taste the market goodies; I just wished I’d left room for the hot tamales. Once we’d had our fill outside, there were the wonders of the ferry building itself to explore. You can read omni blogs about the infamous Cowgirl Creamery and the shop specialising in ‘tasty salted pig parts’ but it was Far West Fungi that had me drooling. Their array of wild and cultivated mushrooms had me crying out for a kitchen but I almost howled at having to forgo experimenting with fiddlehead ferns.

I got over my woe with cleansing ale at MarketBar, one of a number on upmarket restaurants in the building, then jumped on the Sausalito ferry (it is a commuter terminal after all) to escape the madness of downtown San Francisco. Like all great cities, a little distance never hurts to help you enjoy it, just a little bit more.

Greens: simplicity in San Francisco

Five days in San Francisco without an agenda is an interesting prospect. Well that’s not true. We had one. My sister’s only request was a meal at the stalwart vegetarian restaurant Greens. 

We embarked on the journey to lunch on a beautiful spring day. From the heart of Union Square, awash with panhandlers and  the cheerful ding of the cable cars, we instead took ‘streetcar’  to Fisherman’s Wharf. Sure the cable cars are fun but not if you have to wait an hour to hop aboard. The old trams from around the world (including Melbourne) run down Market Street from the wharf to the Castro. Each car is different and equally as character filled. Each trip an adventure in itself.

Once we headed beyond the Embarcadero, directions to Fort Mason were sketchy. While the map, on paper at least, showed a clear route down Bay Street, on the ground it was illusive. Instead the footpath lured us over the hill to the marina, through the small National Park. The ascent was bolstered by spectacular views of the bay and the Marina on the other side welcomed us. The sprawling Green Meadows Park felt a million miles away from the homeless in the city centre. But it still took us a considerable amount of time to find the restaurant once we’d made it to the suburb on the other side.

With literally five minutes to spare before the end of lunch service we finally arrived at Greens, relieved to be welcomed to a table at 2.30pm. The stress evaporated as we sat in the light-filled converted warehouse, watching yachts bob outside in front of the iconic Golden Gate Bridge. The view is complemented by a spacious interior fit out in mostly reclaimed timber, high ceilings and large artworks.

My only hesitation about Greens had been the menu belying its 70s vego roots. To be honest, perusing the website, none of the few dairy-free offerings seemed that inspiring but I shouldn’t have been concerned. By mid-afternoon and the hike, anything would have tasted good! The food at Greens though simple was the freshest I tasted on my holiday.

My sister’s Spring Sampler sounded a little dull but the plate was ample, the just picked veggies popping with taste.  

So too my Mesquite Grilled Brochettes – vegetable and tofu skewers smothered in a tasty green chimichurri sauce, served with a spicy slaw and red/brown rice. The organic baby potatoes and chunks of pale corn were most flavoursome that I’ve ever eaten. 

Even the octogenarian omnivore enjoyed his cheesy pizza.

The ambience at Greens enhanced the experienced. While only a couple of diners remained so late in the service (an elderly pair celebrating an anniversary and a middle aged guy the spitting image of all the ‘barefoot millionaires’ I’d met in Oregon on my previous visit) the staff didn’t hurry any of us, as if understanding the importance of atmosphere on digestion.

I’ve mentioned before that Australia doesn’t do high-endveg*n dining well. Without fuss, Greens is beautiful yet relaxed, with a million dollar view, laid back but efficient staff and every sense catered for. It ticks all the boxes with style and good taste.

Much to our surprise, the octogenarian who’d struggled over the hill on the inbound journey wanted to amble back through the sculptures of Green Meadow Park and take in the views of Alcatraz, Fisherman’s wharf and the bridge once more. Without the pressure of time and unknown geography and relaxed from a satisfying lunch washed down with an organic beer, we could relax into the beauty of the small National Park.

Greens is worth an excursion, so close to the hackneyed San Francisco tourist sights but a million miles away from the urban tension. Choose it for the sheer simple flavours of the produce, inspiring natural design of the restaurant and the iconic views. But most of all Greens is a spa for the senses, proving simplicity of flavour wins over culinary trickery every time.

polenta three ways

Nineteen years ago I lived in a little art deco apartment, complete with original electric wiring and gas cooker. I managed to convince the real estate agent that if the dodgy wiring blew up my precious laptop my insurance company would sue them, heralding three weeks of a young electrician turning up every morning at 7.30 and disappearing again at 8 am, returning sometime after I’d gone to work, to make calls on my phone and do goodness knows what with my underwear drawer (I kid you not). I was not so lucky in my request to replace the stove. The kitchen featured a Stone Age burner built into the wall at shoulder height and a small square box of an oven perched beside it.

Strangely under such ergonomically unfriendly conditions I fell in love with polenta. Transforming the gritty cornmeal into smooth, creamy yellow goodness required up to 45 minutes of stirring, in a kitchen sized for a giant rather than a person of hobbit-like proportions.

After a year of whipping up polenta-based marvels, with a move to a modern and entirely more appropriately sized kitchen I promptly forgot about it. Eighteen years passed until I cooked it again. And now everything has changed. Instant polenta, with a mere 3 minutes of stirring, is my new best friend. Perhaps it’s a matter of time dimming my memory but there’s no discernable difference in taste or texture. This has been the Summer of Polenta. I hope it will be yours as well, as it’s dairy-free, vegan and fructose malabsorption-friendly.

 To cook polenta 

This recipe is for firm polenta that can be used as flan base or an alternative for bready nibbles. Soft polenta is cooked in a more water or stock to stop it becoming firm.

1 part instant polenta

3 parts salted water or vegetable stock

Bring salted water or stock to the boil in a large pot. Pour in the instant polenta in a steady stream and stir for three minutes over a low heat until thick. Be careful, if the heat is too high the lava-like mixture will splash and burn. Once cooked quickly transfer to an oiled baking tray or dish to set. If you’re tardy the mixture becomes too firm to wrangle.

Leave the polenta to set in the fridge or cool place for at least an hour. Overnight is fine if you want to prepare a meal in advance.

Quantities

To use as a base for a flan 1 cup of polenta to 3 cups of salted water is perfect.

For squares, add a 500 gm packet of instant polenta to 1.5 litres of vegetable stock for more flavour.

Extras

It's fine to leave the base simple for a flan, so it doesn't compete with the topping.

For squares, it’s all about the polenta, so take your pick of fresh basil leaves (whole or shredded), sundries tomatoes, olives, marinated mushrooms or whatever tickles your fancy. Quickly stir in your extras when the polenta is cooked, before pouring into the pan to set.

Polenta flan

I never know what to call this, so apologies to flan aficionados for misusing the term. This is simply a thick polenta base served with a substantial topping.

Set the polenta in an oiled flan/quiche dish, smooth out the surface with a knife or spatula and allow to set for at least an hour. I make a base that’s usually around 3cm high but it can be thicker or thinner depending on what you prefer.

Prepare your favourite vegetable topping. I make a variation on ratatouille, sans capsicum because of my aversion, with lashings of garlic and onion, eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes and olives.

To serve heat the polenta in a medium oven for about 15 minutes. Warm the ratatouille on the stove. Pour topping over the base to serve and cut into wedges.

For those wanting something less juicy and more pizza-ish, try topping the base with roasted vegetables, olives and cheese (regular, soft sheep’s milk or dairy-free alternative) and bake in a hot oven for 15 – 20 minutes.

Barbecued polenta squares

Cook polenta in salted water. Once cooked take off the heat and quickly stir through an extra with a robust flavour, like chopped sun dried tomatoes. Set in a large oiled baking dish.

Cut into squares, rectangles, diamonds or triangles and barbecue on a hot grill until crispy on both sides. Serve hot.

Basil polenta with tapenade

Cook a 500 gm packet of instant polenta in 1.5 litres of good quality vegetable stock. Once cooked, take off the heat and stir in a bunch of shredded fresh basil. Pour into a large oiled baking dish and leave to set for an hour or more.

To grill – this slightly unorthodox method works well. Crank oven up to the highest setting. Make sure your oven rack is as clean as possible. Cut the polenta while still in the baking dish into squares (or desired shape). Place the rack on top of the dish and carefully flip it over so the polenta squares fall neatly onto the rack. Place in hot oven for 10 - 15 minutes. My oven tends to make them crisper on the bottom, which I like.

When cool, top with tapenade or your favourite dip.

Tapenade

I combine about 12 Kalamata olives (buy whole olives but remove stones first), add a similar amount of raw walnuts, 1 – 2 cloves of garlic and a little olive oil in a mini-blender. If you have fresh thyme on hand add a small sprig or reserve a leaf or two of basil when preparing the base. Add a grind or two of black pepper if you like it but it doesn’t need any more salt. Blend 'til smooth but slightly chunky.

Polenta cooked any of these ways makes great leftovers for lunch the next day. It can be made a day in advance for a big gatherings and transports well to picnics.