my favourite plum

Merry Little Christmas Redcurrant and Sultana Chocolate Clumps

2008-01-10T09:35:00.000+11:00

Hope you had yourself a merry little Christmas. For once, there wasn't a middle of the night Christmas Eve post here. These are usually written after I've been up so late that it doesn't really matter if I spend another half hour on the computer after the wrapping of 70 rice paper rolls and 20 presents. And I've been so busy that I thought this post might slip away too.

But you see, these photos are from last Christmas. I made these chocolate clumps with fresh redcurrants a year ago and kept meaning to post them. But time went by as it does and they were so summery that I couldn't pop them up in winter. And I consoled myself by resolving to write about them this time. So even though the Christmas tree has been sawn up and put in the green waste bin a good week ago, I'm going to tell you about these now. (Our Christmas tree did not last particularly well, possibly as a result of being carried through the suburb on Figman's back. For kilometres, in 32C heat. We have a car, excellently fitted out for such things. But apparently, the needles on the upholstery make it worthwhile turning oneself into a packhorse and astounding our entire neighbourhood and assorted passerbys. Ahem.)

F was moaning about currants and how he wanted some fresh ones. So I scuttled through the packets and bought the nicest ones I could find at the local markets. Only to produce them and hear "Oh, I didn't mean those kind of currants". Oh indeed.

These are quite tart and not to my taste for adding to yoghurt. So they sat in the fridge, expensively declining. Until I had a mad craving for chocolate coated sultanas and made my own. The sultanas were beautiful organic ones from Mildura (I think?) and the chocolate came from my usual stash in the cupboard. A quick melt and mix and they were ready to be dropped on a tray for setting.

But they were so sweet. Almost overpoweringly sweet to me, who likes her chocolate on the less sugary side. And it came to me - add the currants. It was brilliance, the little beads burst as I bit into the clump, adding a sour hit to this every day confection. A touch of ground black pepper works wonders too.

I topped each one off with a redcurrant for looks alone, and hence, I think they are quite the Christmas treat. Texturally the fresh currants and dried sultanas contrast well under the chocolate coating, but I can't vouch for how it ages, they didn't last long here.

So Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and here's hoping I post again before Easter. (I have too many ice cream posts to wait until next year!)

In Which I Eat Some More Caramel Icecream

2007-12-06T16:32:00.000+11:00

I read about someone visiting the Maggie Beer farmshop recently and writhed with jealousy when she mentioned tasting the Burnt Fig Jam Honeycomb and Caramel Icecream. I've bought plenty of Maggie's fruit pastes and verjuice, but presumed the icecream was only being sold in South Australia.

How wrong I was. It is on the shelves at Leo's, in upmarket delis, it can now be yours too! But only in small, small doses. This is not a mild, light ice dessert to gulp on a warm summer day. This is a full on, heavy, silky and rich cream confection, to be treasured in teaspoons. I love icecream, but after a couple of (dessert) spoonfuls, I had had enough. With no temptation to go back to the freezer for another scoop.

I think this would be fabulous with poached pears and makes a great dessert for a dinner where you require "oomph" without effort.

The Day After Election 2007

2007-11-25T15:52:00.000+11:00

I don't know what Kevin Rudd is up to this morning, but we went out for pancakes. With a smirk.

All Things Caramel

2007-10-03T09:32:00.000+10:00

How did two whole months manage to go by without a post? Things are busy around here for sure! But not too busy for some new tastes. Reading blogs from around the world sets off cravings for unknown foods that sound delicious and that I just know I'll love if I try.

When I first read Clothilde's description of caneles, I thought "That's exactly my kind of thing". To quote the Little One, "I mmeeeeed it, Mummy". Let's just say I went as far as contemplating buying a fancy set of copper canele moulds a la Barbara. Thank goodness I didn't though. Driving through Hampton the other day, I stopped off at the Phillipa's branch there and lo and behold, they featured a little plate of caneles. I bought a couple, excitedly, and couldn't wait to try them. Let's just say that after all, it wasn't my thing at all. And I can't even blame Phillipa's, because they looked exactly as I've seen them and the texture and flavour seemed right, it just wasn't for me. Aaack!

I've also had a minor internet obsession with Dulce de Leche. As with many things, this can be squarely blamed on David Lebovitz. I've been meaning to make it with this method for ages, but haven't gotten around to it. And when I saw that it was featured on Koko Black's menu as the new flavour of the season, I immediately took one home. (Well more than one, as you can see). These are a little banged up, as they were simply popped in a paper bag, rather than the more elegant box. And again, I was disappointed. I mean, it was fine, there was nothing wrong with it, but it was quite light and liquid, not the rich and thick caramel I'd been imagining.

So I'd pretty much decided I needed to stop having pointless internet obsessions with foodstuffs, when we went for a family outing in St Kilda. Veg Out, the community garden, was holding its annual open day and we went along for some excellent organic lamb hot dogs and woodfired pizza. The gardens are absolutely charming - they have a quirkiness and appeal that won me over immediately. But it was a fearfully windy day and we eventually wound up strolling down Acland Street for gelato. Into 7 Apples and the whole family loaded up. After much deliberation I selected mango and dulce de leche. The mango was underwhelming - think of that pale watery orange and mango drink - and I was muttering to myself about my idiotic flavour choices. But I got through to the next scoop and oh my! Thick, rich, perfect, delicious!

Sometimes internet crushes do pay off.

Smell of Spring

2007-08-26T16:46:00.001+10:00

Last weekend, I stepped outside and smelt spring. The sky was the same (grey and clouded), the temperature chilly and unpromising, but something smelt different. It was spring. And now a week later it seems to have arrived, along with these gorgeous magnolia blossoms.

These are in the garden of the nice neighbours. The other neighbours I could quite cheerfully thump, as they have started home renovations which involve loud saws going off at the click of 7.30 am. Plus demolition of their garage and roof, right next to my washing line, for the past seven days, nonstop. The dust and rubble flying everywhere has left me unable to dry any washing outdoors, even on weekends. I am less than thrilled by this, as you can imagine.

Perhaps I need some chocolate.

To Market (Again)

2007-08-21T18:52:00.000+10:00

Interesting to see this article about farmer's markets in today's Age.

The whole family toddled along to the Boroondara one on Paterson Reserve on Saturday morning. It isn't anywhere near as attractive as Collingwood Children's Farm, being simply a damp oval, surrounded by busy roads with the sound of the freeway in the background. It feels somewhat outrageous to be charged the same $2 entrance fee for this locale which decidedly lacks the charm, views and animals of the other. However many of the stallholders are the same.

Figman enjoys these excursions, although his experience was soured this time by a table of elderly ladies passing judgment on the PB's attire. Granted, he'd left her jumper in the car, but she was warmly dressed and held to him in a Baby Bjorn. He spent the rest of the visit muttering about what he was going to do to the next geriatric who tut tutted him about his parenting skills.

I was busy being irritated by the number of people who let their dogs poke about the produce. When I am mentally preparing a dish of roasted vegetables, I don't like to picture some giant Dalmation's snout next to the cauliflower, as happened on Saturday. I realise that farmers have dogs and this probably happens on the farms, but I don't see it, and that makes all the difference. (F would point this out as I chased cats off our vegie patch, screaming "get off" at the top of my lungs. But I am somewhat deranged while pregnant.)

But I managed to get some lovely olive oil, apples, local hazelnuts and a range of crisp, fresh vegetables at good prices. Very sadly, the Buxton trout stand wasn't there, so I tried another variety. The rainbow trout looked handsome in the package, but once peeled turned out to be mushy - not firm and flaky. So it was just as well that I had in mind a recipe that didn't require optimum fish flesh.

I'd ripped a Karen Martini recipe from the Sunday life magazine a few weeks ago and pinned it to the fridge optimistically. My slightly altered version made a lovely post-market lunch, mushy fish and all.

Smoked Trout and Spring Onion Pasta

Cook 500g of wholemeal linguine in salted boiling water. Drain and keep warm. Dice four cloves of garlic and gently fry in olive oil. Add half a teaspoon of chilli flakes. Then a splash of chardonnay vinegar and 8 diced spring onions. Gently stir in the skinned, boned and flaked fish. A squirt of lemon and toss through the linguine.

Yum. A bowl of this and the weekend papers, and not even grumpy old women or nosy dogs can ruin a market for me.

Astoundingly Easy Lentil Tomato Soup

2007-08-15T16:33:00.000+10:00

You know, there are those gorgeous recipes that I bookmark from the internet. I have files full of them but I never ever get around to making them. (Heidi Swanson's Triple Chocolate Cake with Chocolate Peppermint Filling from 2003, I'm looking in your direction!) They look divine, I suspect they'll taste incredible, but the time-consuming aspect means that they might get made in about, say, ten years. While the children weed the front garden and I loll about in a hammock. Yup.

And there are those simple recipes that you spy on someone's site and instantly think: that's what I'll make for dinner one night. Granted, it has been some time since I saw this recipe for Tomato and Red Lentil Soup on Vicious Ange's blog, but the other evening, I was gazing into the cupboard wanting to throw something quick together and this came straight to mind.

Because I am lazy, I skipped the red lentil stage and went for a tin of brown lentils, but I happen to think that it improved the texture, as the carrot was only cooked briefly.l It all came together so quicky in fact, that Figman looked somewhat astounded when I put the bowl in front of him and asked "Did you cook that?". He was puzzled because he hadn't seen me making it and yet here it was, in all it's heartiness.

Astoundingly Easy Lentil Tomato Soup based on Vicious Ange's Tomato and Red Lentil Soup

Dice and fry one large onion and four or five carrots in a large pot. Add curry powder to taste. (I used an organic one which has to be the most feeble curry powder I have ever come across in my life. Hence I cannot give a measurement). Drain one tin of brown lentils and stir. Add two tins of chopped tomatoes and a litre of chicken or vegetable stock. Bring to the boil and simmer for ten minutes.

When serving, I also like to add chunks of cheddar. There is nothing like eating a wholesome vegetarian soup and thinking how good you are being and then coming across a nugget of molten cheesy goodness.

Ouch!

2007-07-31T14:11:00.000+10:00

I type this with fingernails caked with blood.

My cousin has returned to help us out for a few weeks. Last night she mentioned how she had cut herself on our Furi knives and that she had to be careful with them from now on.

Cut to today: it is lunchtime and I am quickly chopping some potatoes for boiling. I am doing this over the pot, because to get out a board and wash it afterwards would be, you know, work. I am holding a potato in my left hand when I realise I have cut through two thirds of the nail on my ring finger. All the way through. I wasn't even using one of the really sharp knives.

And the thing that really gets me? At the precise moment it happened, I was thinking to myself "I have never cut myself on these knives".

Smugness and sharp knives don't mix.

(My Favourite Plum) Jam

2007-07-01T16:50:00.001+10:00

I love good jam. Long gone are the days when I spread the sticky sugary supermarket stuff on my sourdough. Amongst my dozens of jars in the fridge can usually be found something from the excellent Annie Smithers range, a jar of Bonne Maman Peach Conserve and one or two from Phillippa's bakery in Armadale. Their raspberry jam, with raspberries from Silvan Estate, was a constant until I happened upon the summer seasonal jam: strawberry jewels with vanilla. I loved this jam with a passion. Whole fruit, slipping in thick red jam. I bought jars of it at a time, I gave it for Christmas presents. Once, when I couldn't find any at the store, I walked around with an eagle eye, until I spotted the jars which had just been made on a side shelf.

So you can imagine how I reacted when I found out that the summer supply was exhausted and there was no more until next year. I sulked. Big time.

Until it became apparent that there was a replacement on the way. Dark, tangy plum jam. Made from damsons, this is the perfect winter preserve on toast, over yoghurt or on wheatmeal bisquits with Havarti cheese. I can't say that it's my absolute fave, but it's definitely my favourite plum jam.

Stocking Up

2007-07-01T16:32:00.000+10:00

We had a pair of helping hands for the first few weeks after the baby was born. My cousin came to stay with us, to help out with the Little One and see that Figman was sufficient nourished to attend to his duties as a second time father.

She arrived a week before the baby was due, and we went shopping for a big stock up of the cupboards.

"Buy anything you might want" I urged. "Don't assume that I have the ingredients you need. Just get it now while you have the chance." I thought that she took me seriously, but a few nights later she was staring into the pantry, puzzled.

"You don't seem to have ... "
"I told you ..."
"But who thinks that someone who keeps date vinegar and organic cocoa nibs in her cupboards doesn't have tomato paste???"

Plum Blossom

2007-06-02T10:27:00.000+10:00

This autumn, a little plum blossom has come into our lives. You may have noticed that my blogging became sporadic last year. Weeks, occasionally months went between posts. Niki knew, Barbara guessed.

I'm reading your blogs, bleary-eyed, most days but I don't often find the time (and free hands!) to comment or write a post of my own. Once my priorities aren't merely sleep, occasional food and keeping us in a semblance of clean clothing, I'll be back, but for now, the babe is calling.

Love Plum

First Cake: Plum and Vanilla Cake

2007-03-08T09:23:00.000+11:00

So I eventually got around to breaking out the Kitchen Aid. (This was back in January by the way, I don't know quite where February went, but I must have done something ... ). I went through a pile of baking books trying to find that ONE PERFECT CAKE that would be worthy of this first run. I scoured internet sites and checked my bookmarks for recipes I'd put aside. I was convinced that it should be chocolate but somehow, despite some fabulous contenders, it just didn't seem right.

Now Bill Granger always has a section on afternoon tea in his books and I flicked through a few in search of inspiration. And then I found it, page 93 of Bill's Food. I have to say that I rejected it at first, thinking "no, it's too simple. I need fancier, bigger, brighter". But five books later I was back, knowing that this was my cake.

A simple buttery vanilla base, with deep red blood plums throughout and a crumble topping. I had misgivings about the crumble which didn't seem buttery enough to me and it did turn out very brittle and sugary but very nice all the same. The rest of the cake isn't that sweet so it works well to balance it.

It turns out that this was Figman's cake too. And, like Harry, he doesn't even like desserts! He polished off three big slices in one sitting after dinner and was outraged to find that it was almost gone the next day! When I asked what was his favourite cake so that I could make that one next he pronounced "this one" determinedly. It's very similiar to the kind of cakes I was served with coffee in Germany and the lack of cream filling or buttery frosting makes it very easy to eat over and over again.

I used fresh plums for this cake, given the summer abundance, but I think that tinned would work in winter. This cake tastes best warm and as for with cream .... mmmm!

Chocolate and Raspberry Truffles: SHF 27 Chocolate By Brand

2007-01-24T08:41:00.000+11:00

Sometimes I am finicky, so much so that I drive people like the Figman mad. And at others, I am slapdash, which leads to incidents like this. I don't often enter foodblogging events these days but when I saw that David Lebovitz was hosting Sugar High Friday 27 and that the theme was Chocolate By Brand, I grinned as I could easily hang onto my planned post about the Chocolate and Raspberry Truffles I'd made for Christmas and again after a visit to the local raspberry farm. And on the weekend, I flicked onto the page of instructions, caught the phrase 26 January in bold type and closed down the screen again. Without reading the not-so-fine-print. Which would have pointed out that the closing date was actually 22 January. Humph.

So I may have to beg or cajole David (I draw the line at bribery!) but here is my favourite truffle recipe of the last year and also the easiest.

Chocolate and Raspberry Truffles

Adapated from Gourmet Traveller December 2006

Ingredients

450 g raspberries
250 ml pouring cream
50 ml Framboise
600 g chocolate
Cocoa for dusting

Combine 250g of the raspberries, cream and Framboise in a saucepan and bring to boil over medium heat.

Cool slightly then force through a sieve.

Rinse saucepan to remove raspberry seeds and return mixture to it and bring to boil again.

Chop chocolate unless you are using callets or buttons. Melt the chocolate slightly in the microwave (medium low power for about 2 minutes but check constantly after 1 minute). Add the chocolate to the cream mixture. If the chocolate and cream are not sufficiently melded together at this point, heat very slightly over low flame.

Mix by hand and pour half of the mixture into a paper-lined 20 x 30 cm tray. Dot mixture with remaining raspberries. Add other half of chocolate mixture and smooth top, cover and refrigerate at least 6 hours or overnight.

Remove from tray with paper attached. Dust slab of truffles with cocoa on top and bottom and tap to remove excess. Slice with warm knife.

For this recipe I used Callebaut 53.8% chocolate callets. This tends to be the everyday cooking chocolate in my cupboard, because I can buy it in bulk at a reasonable price (to get bulk Valrhona here I'd have to commit to 20 kilos!). I have to admit that I did contemplate pretending that I'd used our local couverture Kennedy and Wilson. It would be more exotic, more interesting, more local. But here's the rub: I don't like the taste of it much. I've tried. I've bought their couverture in bulk for cooking and use in chocolate making, I've eaten a range of their moulded chocolates, and while I admire their enterprise and spirit, I just don't like the taste of their chocolate. Which is a real shame. (However the Yarra Valley Ice Cream made with it is the best chocolate ice cream I've had in my life.)

So, as in my blog, you're getting mostly the unvarnished truth. I used the common, round the block, undistinguished workhorse of the chocolate world. But you know what? These taste really really good! And the slicing method is so much simpler than piping or rolling or scooping truffles. It also allows the pretty piece of raspberry to shine through. (I increased the amount of raspberries by 50% from the original recipe as when I ate a truffle without a raspberry in it, I felt well ripped off!)

I did use Green & Black's cocoa for dusting. Their chocolate also leaves me cold, but their cocoa is so delicious I could eat it by the powdery spoonful! From the photos you can see that I could have been more exact with my cutting. Constant reheating of the knife would definitely have helped presentation but you know what, I am slapdash. In chocolate as in life.

The First Tomatoes of Summer

2007-01-22T20:50:00.000+11:00

The Figman loves birdsong. Me, I'm pretty indifferent and at times, downright irritated with birds. But he has books scattered around the house from a childhood passion as a birdwatcher and when visitors bring me the Silver Spoon, he gets given a new pair of binoculars.

But he loves his tomatoes more. He has been tending these plants since early October last year and was waiting, breath-bated, for the first crop to ripen. Ever so slowly, with our weird weather this summer, and then two weeks ago it appeared the day had come.

Until I walked into the kitchen early one morning and spotted a blackbird pecking at an orange object in the backyard. I banged on the window and, startled, the bird flew away. But left his destruction behind and the Figman was furious. "Bloody birds" he swore and went off to Bunnings to buy a new set of nets.

In the meantime, the rest of the fruit on the unprotected vine was brought inside to ripen on the benchtop. I'm still waiting for those to deepen into red, but the first few tomatoes have been plucked, warm from the sun, and hastily chopped into a quick dinner for three.

Quick pizza

I used to be a make-your-own-yeast-dough-and-pizza-sauce-from-scratch girl, but these are so quick and tasty that I doubt I'll ever go back.

Souvlaki bread toasted on one side
Heaped teaspoon of coriander pesto
Heaped teaspoon of ketchup (a bona fide Italian taught me this, so I refuse to feel ashamed!)
Swirl the two pastes on the soft side of the souvlaki. Add sliced cheese, anchovies, onions and fresh tomatoes and grill until cheese melts.

If I'd remembered in time, I'd have added the fresh basil before I took the photo. But there are times to prance around with cameras and there are times to get the dinner on the table. Maybe next time, as there should be a bountiful summer of tomatoes to come!

Lovely Lettuce

2007-01-15T11:50:00.000+11:00

It's been a wild and woolly summer here in Melbourne. From hail to the hottest day on record to snow all in a couple of months, it hasn't exactly been your average pleasant summer, weather-wise.

Add to that the impact of the bushfires in the Victorian countryside. There have been days when I've stepped outside, only to smell the thick layers of smoke in the air and go straight back in. This is hundreds of kilometres from the bushfires, so I can only sympathise for those living nearby.

I expect that all of this has had an impact on the quality of the lettuce and greens available locally. Certainly what I've found at the market has been limp and drab, not up to the usual summer standards. I'm therefore very lucky to have F, who adores gardening and can be found pottering around in the garden most evenings after work, delighting in daylight saving.

From my seat at the kitchen table, I can hear him and the Little One chattering, as they taste mint and basil and pull out a few weeds. Then they move on to the hand watering of pots and pots of herbs, lettuce and tomatoes. By now the Little One is shouting determinedly "My do it! MY DO IT!!" as he lifts a watering can and tips the contents over a plant. It's so sweet to watch, even sweeter than fresh greens from the garden on a summer evening.

Cutlery Redux

2007-01-11T08:48:00.000+11:00

"Some of the Villeroy & Boch cutlery is beautiful but it's obscenely expensive and really, does this kind of thing belong in the hands of someone who loses a teaspoon a month? I think not."

Looking back for my Christmas Eve post last year, I found one about my new cutlery set and how excited I got about it.

I was even then in love with a certain Villeroy & Boch set, but restrained myself on the grounds of cost and the above fact - teaspoons go a wandering in this house. I've been very happy with my full sets of cutlery this past year but browsing in David Jones for some Christmas shopping, I gazed at the V & B sets out of sheer curiousity. Sheer curiousity as the one set I love never ever goes on sale. Ever. And there it was, at 40% off. Still staggeringly expensive, but so beautiful and perfect, heavy, shiny and just right.

I hesitated for a second. And then I left the store and went home and counted my teaspoons. It seems I may have been a little harsh on myself and my magpie abilities. You see, of the original dozen teaspoons, I still had TWO LEFT. So it wasn't one a month going out with the peelings, it was only 0.83 of a teaspoon!

I still didn't buy the glossy set. At the time of writing we are down to one Luxor teaspoon and a startling number of the butter knives are missing in action (mostly cutting through packing tape on boxes but still ...). As it was a year ago, this sort of thing still doesn't belong in my hands ...

Culinary Resolutions 2006

2007-01-01T20:45:00.000+11:00

I was in a flap about not having achieved all of my culinary resolutions for last year when I realised that, being the procrastinator that I am, I only made the list in March 2006. So I figure that gives me another 3 months to make it!

The one I really think I should have knocked off by now is to make a pie. A savoury, chickeny, golden pie. I'd been reading Tarts with Tops On by Tamasin Day-Lewis and was convinced that this would be the year of the pie. It wasn't, well apart from the ones I ate that is.

But I have reigned in my expectations a little and with all the food mags going on about Careme pastry maybe I'll manage to haul a Galician Pork and Sausage Pie or some Welsh Chicken and Leek Bridies from the oven someday soon.

Or at least before the end of March. Hehe.

Holiday Traipsing About: Healesville, Silvan & Olinda

2006-12-30T20:34:00.000+11:00

Or this could be known as "In Which I Blame Neil". Certainly Figman would if he knew ... hehehe

Australia tends to shut down between Christmas and New Year. Even then, a lot of manufacturing industries take the entire month of January off and not a lot gets done elsewhere. Unless you are unfortunate to work in a department store, in which case you may be hiding in a change room, waiting for the hordes to GO AWAY.

Now Figman is also on holiday until after the New Year and while I want to lounge around the house and sort out my study (so full of boxes you can hardly squeeze in there - at least all the Christmas presents are out of there now), he wants to do things. Go places. Have little adventures. Eat out a lot. Unfortunately, as many suppliers and restaurants are also on holidays, this isn't the greatest time to do that. Let me just say we had some dire and yet expensive food this week and that was when we could find the places to serve it.

So I thought that a trip to the Yarra Valley and Dandenong Ranges might be sufficient distraction for F and as these are prime tourist areas I figured that most places would be up and running.

We popped into the Healesville Hotel for lunch and as they were fully booked, had to settle for the bar. Might have been better off at their produce store next door, as the food looked tastier and better cooked. We only just scampered to get a table as a busload of coiffed matrons wandered in, looking most put out that they couldn't be seated in the dining room.

After lunch, Figgy wasn't particularly interested in wineries and said those foolish words "I'm happy to go wherever you want to go". "Right" I said "I want to get some cherries and some raspberries and then there's this little shop in Olinda I want to visit on the way home .."

First stop was
Blue Hills Berries and Cherries. This turned out to be only pick your own berries and we had a Little One to take home and put to bed so I vetoed this plan and decided to check out the place further down the road. It wasn't in the guidebook, but had cunningly placed its sign right near Blue Hills, proclaiming its excellent cherries to just be 1km down the road. And Chappies were really really good. Despite what many growers say about the smaller fruit being better, these huge, firm cherries were so juicy and tasty that F sent me right back into the store for another kilo!

Then around a few back roads, through startlingly green countryside, rich red soil and tranquil reservoirs and ponds, we wound our way to Silvan Estate Raspberries for a selection of the best berries in town. Figman always gets country-life-envy when we visit this farm, so we had to leave, quickly!

The little village of Olinda is about 10 minutes away and I browsed the Olinda Pantry while the Figman and Little One ate ice cream on the chairs outside Metisse next door. The Olinda Pantry has a solid range of products and I came away (amongst other things) with Cunliffe Waters Barbecue Sauce which I haven't seen anywhere else. I'm a big fan of their relishes and savoury sauces (there's almost always a bottle of their Hot Sour Sweet Salty sauce in my cupboard).

And then Metisse. This tiny store has only been open for 10 weeks, before that it was run from the owner's garage. Linens, antique Frenchwares, chandelier pendants, soaps and did I mention copperware??

There is a small range of vintage copper pans but I was immediately drawn to the shiny new frypans. Lined with tin and about a third of what I'd expect to pay elsewhere. I hummed and hawwed and talked extensively with the owner, hesitating only because I'd just been given a lovely Christmas present by the man sitting eating icecream right outside her door. And it's not exactly easy to hide a frypan under your shirt.

But in the end I succumbed and am now the happy owner of my first proper copper pan. So I don't have to be envious of Clothilde browsing in Dehillerin or Bakerina's preserving pan. She did say that it will tarnish immediately which made me want to cry a little. But I am all about using copper for its wonderful-heat-retaining-and-conductivity-purposes, aren't I? Not for it's glorious glossy looks. That would make me shallow. And I am deep, baby.

Merry Little Christmas

2006-12-29T18:29:00.000+11:00

Hope you had a lovely Christmas time with your beloveds. My sister hosted the family lunch this year, so all I had to do was turn up and indulge. Well, I did bring some chocolate macadamias and raspberry truffles but compared to cooking the full Christmas dinner ... I got off lightly!

Mr Figman is doing his best to have a happy New Year - his gift to me was the shiny red Kitchen Aid mixer which I have been wanting for ages. I adore the stand mixer but what I really love is that he got me something he knew I really wanted and wouldn't usually buy myself. Going through my Peters of Kensington wishlist the other day I giggled when I realised I could remove this item which has been on there for a long long time!

And he even chose the right colour! And in time for me to get my free mixing bowl. Now I just have to select exactly the right cake to first grace my mixer ...

Chocolate of course!

Christmas Eve 2006

2006-12-24T19:38:00.000+11:00

I remember last Christmas Eve well. Sitting up making insane Peppermint Bark that I'd picked up from Heidi's 101 Cookbooks. A confection that I cannot bear the taste of now, given that I became very sick the next day and Figman wasn't much better.

On Christmas Day, waiting at some traffic lights en route to our THIRD function of the day, Figman turned and looked at me sitting there, giant vat of duck curry on my lap. "You are NOT doing this again next year" he said. "I want you to promise me." Christmas is a lovely time of year I'm sure, but in our family food takes over as the main event and after I'd hosted one event and brought dishes to two more, I was ready to collapse, aside from the flu I'd just come down with.

So this year we were supposed to be keeping it more simple. I wasn't bringing anything to the main Christmas lunch, just turning up. Until there was a request for chocolates.

Since Christmas Eve fell on a weekend, I felt that there was time enough to throw together a private dinner for the three of us at home. Our Christmas lunch will be very non-traditional and so I wanted to indulge in a few basics for dinner tonight. Butterflied turkey breast, stuffed with fruit and roasted with butternut pumpkin. Cranberry and orange sauce. Boiled brussel sprouts as requested by Figman (I told you he came from a parallel universe). Brandy ice cream pudding.

I have spent the afternoon devising a stuffing recipe, trying to recreate a magical one eaten one Boxing Day from the carcass of a turkey at a friend's house. Dried peaches, dried mango, breadcrumbs, onion, garlic, stock. Preparing vegetables (I almost forgot the brussel sprouts!). Dipping the last of the macadamias I roasted in chocolate. The two boys slumbered until almost 7.00 pm and we missed the neighbours' party. (Unfortunately I suspect we are about to become pariahs as it was abundantly obvious we were home.) And now the turkey is roasted and resting, all the chocolates are in the fridge and just need parcelling up tomorrow. Dinner will be served in about 17 minutes and the Christmas cooking is done. It feels wonderful.

Lest you think I am one smug cow, I must say that I will no doubt be up late, wrapping and arranging presents, hunting madly for the gifts I bought months ago and which are now hidden under a pile of other things. But I will not be up at midnight this year crushing candy canes and waiting for chocolate to set. And that feels very good ideed.

Mecca Bah Restaurant Review

2006-12-17T02:34:00.000+11:00

I'd never actually visited the Docklands area before, so when Figman needed to check out a venue I suggested we all head out for an early lunch at Mecca Bah. We mostly skipped breakfast and therefore managed to arrive shortly before 12 on a breezy Sunday morning.

Mecca Bah does not take reservations, hence the reconnaissance trip. We were hoping to "persuade" a manager into allowing a small booking for a festive lunch. Yes, that was likely to be successful ....

I had had a hankering for bastilla and above is a picture of , well, a half bastilla (I couldn't wait!). It was very soft, with tender shredded chicken and I adore the traditional sprinkling of icing sugar on these pastries.

The spicy lamb and pine nut bourek was the surprise hit. I mean, lamb wrapped in pastry is always going to be good, but the pine nuts took it to another level. I no longer have a hankering for bastilla. Instead, I am plotting how soon I can get back to Mecca Bah and scoff some more of these!

The fattoush was not successful. The dressing was too sour to be palatable and this bowl was almost as full when we left the restaurant. The service was also a bit haphazard and unfocussed, with different staff serving the table and all the dishes arriving at once, resulting in half being cold when eaten.

I ordered mostly from the mezze section of the menu, with a couple of Turkish pizzas thrown in. (Query - if they are Turkish, then is it accurate to describe them as pizze in the plural? Semantics.) It would have been more balanced to try a tagine and something from the grill, but I couldn't decide between the spicy chicken pizza with thick slices of eggplant and the pumpkin pizza with feta and rocket. So we had both and they were tasty and filling (so filling that we couldn't manage dessert!).

Above is the view from our table. It was excellent for keeping a small child entertained, as he not only had other diners to look at, but boats, birds and the occasional dog on the jetty. We had no trouble getting a prime seat for the lunch sitting but the restaurant filled up quickly. I can understand why they might like a "no reservations" policy, but it's frustrating for occasions when it simply won't do to be told to go away and eat an ice cream for an hour until a table is free. Even the offer of a substantial deposit failed to sway the staff and so the search began for another venue.

But if you're at a loose end or up early, Mecca Bah is a great casual dining spot amongst the plethera of Docklands restaurants.

55a Newquay Promenade
Docklands 3008

Menu for Hope III

2006-12-11T10:03:00.000+11:00

The prizes for Menu for Hope III are up now. It's all very exciting - I can't believe how many there are and the variety. I had actually intended to donate a prize myself but have been offline for this week and only realised last night that I'd missed the cutoff.

We'd had a couple of our favourite boys visiting us in Melbourne and I'd been out taking them on their idea of a gastronomic whirlwind tour - "We don't have Boost Juice at home" "Can we go back to that lolly shop again?" and after a trip to Nandos, "That was a really good burger". Lest you think they are not discerning, the elder one asked if we could make it back to Cafe di Stasio (scene of a lunch on another visit), but there just wasn't time.

Helen at Grab Your Fork has co-ordinated the Asia Pacific prize list. There are FORTY different meals, books and experiences up for grabs. Some are from blogs I know well, such as Cin at A Few of My Favourite Things, Barbara at Winos and Foodies and Neil from At My Table. And others led me to new discoveries, like Phomenon. Phil is offering half a kilo of Cambodian Kampot peppercorns, which sound intriguing, although I'm a bit concerned about what Australian Customs would do to it, should I win.

I sent a penitent email to Helen yesterday and she kindly advised me to buy up raffle tickets instead of a last minute prize. So here are the instructions for donors:

Here's what you should do...

1. Go to the donation page at (http://www.firstgiving.com/menuforhopeIII)

2. Make a donation, each US$10 will give you one raffle ticket toward a prize of your choice. Please specify which prize or prizes you'd like in the 'Personal Message' section in the donation form when confirming your donation. Do tell us how many tickets per prize, and please use the prize code -for example, a donation of US$50 can be 2 tickets for AP01 and 3 for AP02.

3. For US donors, if your company has agreed to match your charity donation, please remember to check the box and fill in the information so we may claim the corporate match.

4. Please also check the box to allow us to see your email address so that we could contact you in case you win. Your email address will not be shared with anyone.

5. Check back on Chez Pim on January 15 when we announce the results of the raffle. (The drawing will be done electronically. Our friend the code wizard Derrick at Obsession with Food is responsible for the wicked application that will do the job.)

I've had a look down the list and know what I have my eye on. A very naughty part of me thinks that if I didn't add to the publicity for this, I'd have a better chance of winning the ones I want! But I've been bad enough for one week ....

Slow Roasted Shoulder of Lamb

2006-11-25T21:20:00.000+11:00

Well half a shoulder of lamb actually. This is a prime example of the way I use cookbooks - often I enjoy flicking through and absorbing ideas and techniques, but I don't often follow a recipe diligently or really, at all.

I was in the mood for slow cooked lamb and thought shoulder would be a nice change. The last time I cooked this cut on the bone was to make Nigella's Warm Shredded Lamb Sald with Mint and Pomegranate. Now it's quite amazing to think that a dish with three of my favourite ingredients could turn out so ... blah ... but I won't be repeating it any time ever.

However the method struck me as sound and I looked up the recipe again this time. My cupboards were particularly bare (still haven't restocked after move) and so instead of bothering about shallots and carrots, I flung open the fridge and mixed up what came to hand. Which was mostly harissa, with mustard, soy and balsamic. With a bit of honey tipped in for sweetness. It sounds like a bizarre combination, but the aroma drifting through the house was tantalising and half an hour after the meat was in the oven Figman was asking "When can we eat it? Can we eat it now?". He was pretty crushed to hear that it would be at least five hours before we were tucking in.

Nigella cooks her shoulder of lamb at 140C. I heated the oven to 210C and then turned it down to 150C once I put the meat and a cup or two of water in. I wasn't going to leave it in overnight as she recommends and I wanted to eat sometime before midnight. When I pulled the dish out, the outer layer looked almost charred, but appearances were deceptive and the beneath the spicy sauce were delicate shreds of soft tender meat.

While the half shoulder looked large (and was cheap!) the meat yield wasn't massive and this amount only served four comfortably. The Figman and Small One ate theirs with fresh baby carrots from the garden. I pulled some meat off the bone and toasted turkish bread, mixing it all up with green beans and more harissa.

Effortless cooking and a pleasing result. And now that I've got shallots and carrots in my possession again, I could even do it Nigella's way ... or maybe not.

A Little Lunch By Myself

2006-11-19T14:25:00.000+11:00

photo from http://www2.visitvictoria.com/

On Friday, I found myself unexpectedly in town, pretending to work. I don't work much and what I do, tends to be done from home. But occasionally I have to come into the office and justify my pay packet.

I didn't dream of driving, as much of the CBD was locked down and cordoned off for the G20 summit over the weekend. And when I went off for an early lunch, I decided not to walk across town in search of a tasty meal.

Last week, I decided to pop into David Jones Foodhall, in order to grab something quickly and be back on the job asap. I made the ridiculous mistake of going at proper lunchtime ie 1pm and the place was packed. I stood at the noodle counter for 15 minutes and couldn't even get my order taken. The heavily perspiring chef was growling at people that their orders would be at least 20 minutes. So I thought I'd just grab a plain roll from the bakery. At which point eleven people materialised at the bread counter and took their sweet time.

I left three quarters of an hour after entering, with plain bread and water. Yes, they may have been ciabatta rolls and Fiji spring water, but it was still bread and f*#&ing water, okay?

So when I caught sight of the Bistrot D'Orsay, I decided to treat myself. No $10 quickie noodles today. Bistrot D'Orsay has a handful of wicker tables and chairs on the pavements, but I chose the dark interior of the restaurant instead. And while outside would have been easier for people-watching, the occasional clouds of exhaust and dust would not have been pleasant for my food.

Bistrot D'Orsay is a medium-priced French restaurant, with a consistent 14/20 rating from the Age Good Food Guide. There were several dishes I would have liked to try, however today I plumped for the pan-fried gnocchi with mushrooms, chard and hazelnuts. And a side salad of "rocquette, pear and parmesan".

My reactions to the food were mixed. The gnocchi itself was a dream - browned yet soft, with a consistency that did not fall apart after one bite. I could, and would, have eaten a giant bowl of that by itself. The mushrooms were large peeled slices of field mushroom, perfectly cooked alongside small wilted pieces of chard. There were a few shavings of parmesan and then the hazelnuts. The nuts were a wrong note in this dish. They were skinned, but their texture lacked the creaminess that comes from roasting. Perhaps they had been blanched, but all they did was detract from the overall harmony. I pushed them to the side of the lovely white bowl (I do like unusual crockery in a restaurant) and ate them at the end, so did they irritate me.

The salad was decent, perhaps a little heavy on the balsamic, but with good leaves and ample parmesan. The one thing that puzzled me was the pear. The sweet crunch of pear is required in this salad to offset the sour of the dressing and the sharp of the cheese. And it is seriously cheap - pear costs probably 1/4 the price of the rocket and and 1/10 of the price of parmesan. It therefore makes no sense to stint on it and force the diner to hunt around to find the occasional piece. Maybe their supplier couldn't get through the barricades.

Speaking of which, it was actually quite peaceful on the Friday, although this report says that "At times the Paris end of Collins Street looked more like Paris '68". I saw a straggle of girls in fluro pink tutus waving tambourines. They were escorted by a pack of policemen up the street. Otherwise, apart from the Falun Dafa demonstration, it was remarkably quiet.

Sidenote: I don't know much about the practice of Falun Gong, apart from reading reports of persecution in China, but I have to say, I have never seen a more peaceful, serene group of mostly middle-aged people. After watching them meditating en masse just off Swanston Street earlier I was surprised by the numbers marching up Collins Street. I had no idea it was so widely followed here.

But apart from this demonstration, it was very much business as usual and I sat watching schoolkids and workers in suits. Shoppers in Melbourne for the day, looking for a quick rest from their Christmas lists.

I don't often eat in public by myself - for starters I usually have the Little One or Figman along. But on Friday I sat back as the plate and glass opposite me were removed. I relaxed, I looked out the window and I enjoyed my food. Being a guest to myself and all that. And I got back to work long before I'd have returned from DJs. A little treat that paid for itself.

A Bowlful of Happiness

2006-11-11T19:03:00.000+11:00

"I think we bought too many cherries" says the Figman, looking over the benchtop to the giant red bowl of dark ones in the sink, the half bag on the counter and the big plastic container full of Bing Cherries.

"How can you say that?" I ask. You remember who we're talking about here, right?

We toddled off to the Collingwood Children's Farmer's Market this morning after being woken incredibly early. It was too early even for the waker, who quickly decided that he did not like dogs, he did not like the flies in his face, and he most decidedly did not like having to walk. (When both of his parents refused to carry him, he flung himself on the dusty straw and howled. F looked at me and said "I remember how I used to look at parents with screaming kids and think why didn't they just control their child? And now ... it's me")

The Little One soon added cherries to his dislike list - he bit into a stone and that was that. It became clear that what he needed was to go back to bed and so we headed home after a pleasant breakfast outside at the nearby Convent Bakery.

At the bakery, I had to ask for a plastic bag as I discovered that when the Cherry Lady says that this type is soft, she means soft. And that the best place to store a kilo of very soft cherries in a paper sack is not in a near-new handbag (the lining will never be the same, but oh well).

After we got home, I emptied half a container into a bowl and rinsed them. And despite the early start, the mis-start (we wound up at Booroondara first under the impression that the market was there today), the cranky baby and the crowds, all was good. Peace, quiet, the paper and a bowl full of cherries. Saturday morning bliss.

Wholemeal Maple Syrup Pancakes

2006-11-07T16:00:00.000+11:00

I'm beginning to get back into the blog thing a little bit more now. Not on the post-once-a-day level, but even if I don't write mine, I read other people's and I have progressed to cooking recipes from blogs again.

I used to be mad keen on this, but I've been very busy in the last few months - we fled the country, I have new workesque responsibilities and stuff has been happening, all of which has taken up most of the time I used to spend blogging.

But today we are all at home on holiday and a certain someone sidled up to me and said "The Small One and I would really love it if you made pancakes". I instantly knew which recipe I would follow - I'd seen Niki's adaption of Nic's Wholemeal Pancakes ages ago and wanted to make them ever since.

I'm a bit out of the pancake making groove - the last ones I tried were probably Bill Grainger's Ricotta Hotcakes from Sydney Food, pre-pre-blog. Figman went through a full on pancake obsession at one point and we had them just about every day (with a jug of batter always in the fridge) so I felt quite justified in leaving them alone for a few years.

Niki's version is delightfully easy to make. It all came together so quickly I started to wonder why I didn't whip up a batch of these every weekend for breakfast. Then I stood at the stove and flipped batch after batch and remembered why. The cook gets none (well not if she wants to keep production going). I read about the sorts of households where pancakes are pre-cooked and kept warm in the oven until everyone sits down and eats them together, but this is clearly not my house. It is hard enough trying to keep a stack with melting butter in your grip long enough to take a photo without suggesting that everyone wait for their bounty any longer.

Figman was pestering me for orange juice - he grew up in some parallel universe where they coat pancakes in orange juice and sugar - what the? After I gave him his stack, I wandered into the lounge between flips. He was watching the Melbourne Cup and I began to ask if he wanted me to squeeze a fresh orange over his ... well over where his stack of four pancakes had been precisely 90 seconds ago. (Timing each pancake flip left me very certain of this!)

The wholemeal flour gives these pancakes a heavier, more substantial aspect and a chewiness that's not found with white. I was a little confused at one point when I checked the dry ingredients and thought "what, no sugar?". Wholemeal flour and no sugar is taking things a little far, even for me! But I re-read and the sweetening in these comes from the maple syrup - matching the sweetness in and atop the pancakes.

I've just remembered that I dropped batter from the second-last pancake onto the hob, so I must dash and clean it off before it sets - grrrrrr!

Update: Too late.

Being Perverse

2006-11-04T21:12:00.000+11:00

Sometimes you've just got to go for it. When a wilful Small Person has not let anything green pass his lips for, oh say four months, a mother snaps.

Wondering how a child can thrive so clearly on a diet of milk, toast and meat. Bright of eye, glossy of hair and full of mischief and energy. Even his beloved oranges are out and apples have become pseudo bowling balls, to be rolled across the room until he is caught.

So one night, frustrated and tired, I just decided to do my worst. He'd have green for dinner and that was that. I threw some wholemeal spaghetti in a pot, and while it was boiling, I grated a couple of zucchini, skin on. When the pasta was done, I cooked the zucchini shreds briefly with a little olive oil and a jar of basil pesto. Added the spaghetti back to the mix and sprinkled a little cheese.

Now, granted, this dish features pasta and cheese, two of the Small One's favourite foods, but he has fastidiously rejected dinner in the past on the grounds that it contains something as innocuous and pick-aroundable as peas. But he lapped this up and I didn't know what to say.

Two days laster he was back on Green Strike again, but hey, he ate vegetables at least three times this month. For now, I'll take that as a truimph!

Persistency Pays Off

2006-10-13T08:43:00.000+10:00

No, I did not give up on the Great Pie Hunt. (When I want something, I want it ... ). Somewhere at the back of my mind, I remembered seeing a closed cafe on Glenferrie Road late one night, with a sign in the window saying "we use organic meat and free range eggs". So I went for a wander with the Plumbaby, and just as we had reached almost the top of Glenferrie Road and at least one of us was tired and cranky, we found the Pastry Kitchen.

The Pastry Kitchen does a range of chicken, beef and vegetable pies and rolls, plus flourless cakes and tarts. The sausage rolls looked scrumptious but I had come for a pie and we left with a box.

The pastry was flaky, the filling moist. The meat wasn't entirely regularly ground, but I found that reassuring - it's how my home made mince has always turned out. A bit of ketchup and absolute bliss. For $4.00 a pop, I found it reasonably priced, comforting and just what I was after.

Although I discovered a new standard just a couple of days later. Zipping into a fabric store on Lygon Street, I decided that there is only so much material you can look at and that what I really needed was a doughnut. I knew the Sugardough Patisserie was somewhere in the neighbourhood and found it tucked away behind a tiny shopfront. A handful of tables inside and out and the most amazing display of bread, pastries and cakes. Their bread is baked with organic flour and like all their goods, it looked like it was made with careful thought and pride.

I only had a handful of coins after the fabric binge so I was limited in my purchasing (I could have carried half the shop out with me otherwise). A doughnut was chosen, although a sweet focaccia was very seductive, and when I saw the words "Chicken Makani Pie" I knew what else I'd be taking. The pie combined a mild curry sauce with chunks of chicken and good pastry. I took exception to the coating of poppy seeds on top but you can't have everything in a pie I suppose. If I'd had more than 40 cents in my hand, I'd have rushed back and bought another. Sadly, the doughnut was not as good, it was based on a heavy yellow dough and I like my doughnuts somewhat more etheral. But that pie ... mmmmm

The Pastry Kitchen
834 Glenferrie Road Hawthorn
9815 1666

Sugardough Panificio & Patisserie
163 Lygon St Brunswick East
9380 4060

Simply Unspeakable

2006-10-03T08:04:00.000+10:00

I've wanted something disgusting since the weekend. I want a pie. Not a chunky-gourmet-tender-pieces-of-lamb pie. Not even the exquisite organic chicken and leek pie that I pick up from Organica and throw in the oven when I just can't be bothered cooking.

Digression 1: This obviously means that I am not a Real Cook. Real Cooks would tell me that I could whip up Spaghetti alla Olio in the time it takes the pie to heat. True, but I suspect a Real Cook also wouldn't eat satay sauce from the jar with stale bread, call it dinner and go to bed.

No, what I want is the standard, fast food, Aussie pie. Sloppy filling, ground bits of indistinguishable meat, commercial-tasting crust. I can't believe it, but I DO. Even all the raves at the Inaugural Great Pie Roundup haven't been able to change my mind. And this is the odd thing. I don't like beef. I hardly ever eat it - maybe 2 or 3 times a year and even then it's usually organic steak, cooked at home. At yet, everything in me yearns for the most appalling of scraps, from goodness knows where, minced up and covered in slop. Dear me.

Digression 2: I haven't eaten a regular meat pie for at least 17 years. A bout of vegetarianism makes it remarkably easy to chart these things, particularly as once I had exited from meatless exile I had a decided distaste for this kind of food.

I suspect it might be the prevalance of footy finals on the weekend which brought the classic pie to mind. Speaking of which, earlier the Figman flew interstate to meet up with some mates and watch their team unexpectedly be in some sort of final. This was very spur of the moment and when he rang me, I did some quick calculations in my head for airfare and accomodation and said "Fine. But I want a new vacuum cleaner".

Digression 3: For fear of sounding all housewifely, I must admit that I do not vacuum. I have probably only vacuumed once in the last 3 years. (Fortunately Figman sees it as some sort of masculine duty). But I was sick of the sight of the old one, held together with packing tape and spewing forth more dust than it collected.

I went on with my shopping and then idly went over the sums again in my head. Hang on. I texted him back "And a Kitchen Aid".

Underhand you might say. A dirty trick to play on a sports fan. But as the wise Melissa at the Traveler's Lunchbox would say "it is better to be the owner of a KitchenAid than a nice person"!

Toaster War

2006-09-06T14:03:00.000+10:00

Inside every household there are unspoken, deadly wars. Years ago, a girl I lived with refused to wash any dish she hadn't used. So she would clean up after herself and ignore anything else in the kitchen. I thought it was normal to wash everything in sight but gradually became aware that this wasn't being reciprocated. So I began pointedly ignoring her stuff. We were cordial and friendly in every other respect, but the dish saga built up and up, underneath the surface, like a volcano waiting to blow. Eventually a mutual friend stepped in and peace and normal washing were restored.

Which is why I burst out laughing when I read this article by Danny Katz earlier this year. It summed up every petty domestic dispute I've been involved in over the years. Even Figman was amused, and also alarmed that there were other People Like Us out there. But it hasn't brought about a detente in this place - oh no.

We have long been waging the Toaster War you see. I bought a new toaster a while ago and it's great - even browning, lifter to get those tricky crumpets and muffins out, defrost control. And 2 is the perfect setting for me. Great for toast, and sourdough takes 2 goes but comes out crunchy and not in the slightest bit burnt. Figman, however, is a tad more impatient. (Possibly because he has a more pressing need to get out of the house in the mornings.) So he whacks it up to 4, cancels when his toast looks done and leaves the dial there. Therein lies the rub. I come along innocently, pop my bread in, wander off to check my emails or find some jam, only to smell toast burning. From the very last of the bread in the house. This does not please me and leads to curt discussions about toaster settings but nothing changes.

If I were petty and living in a share house again, I'd buy my own toaster and hide it in my wardrobe or somewher equally unsavoury, but I'm beyond that now. I'd just like unburnt toast. Is this too much to ask?

Longrain: Restaurant Review

2006-07-20T20:18:00.000+10:00

Reluctant Admission: This post should be entitled a Tale of Two Festivals. Because I actually dined here ages ago, and by complete coincidence during the Melbourne Fashion Festival and then the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.

This isn't a review of the cookbook attached to the famous Sydney restaurant, it's a review of the restaurant which finally opened its second site in Melbourne earlier this year! I was dining with NBF (non-blogging friends) and I just didn't think they'd understand if I kept whipping out the camera. As you do.

For a young hip place, there were a surprising number of older couples dining that night. This balanced out the many packs of women, some amazing tall, some bizarrely (and not in the Harper's way) dressed. I was puzzled by all the female groups and their getup until I realised, of course, it's Melbourne Fashion Week. TA DA!

Longrain make a big deal out of their cocktails and my Virgin Mule (I shudder to think what searches THAT will bring to this site) was the best one I've had in a while. Absolutely packed with fresh mint, this was easily worth $8.00. They don't take reservations in the evening and I suspect that this is a cunning ploy to force diners to wait awhile in the lounge area and order more and more cocktails and tasty snacks. If you're not into waiting, try a quiet night, get there early or book for lunch.

On my first visit, we ordered the red duck curry, eggnet with bean sprouts, prawn and pork, the crispy Barossa chicken with plum sauce, another curry and a salt and pepper Barramundi special. Now the Barossa dish will set you back a fair bit and I remember muttering to a friend "this had better be some chicken for $41.50!". But when it came, it was worth every penny. Practically a whole chicken, steamed and then crispy fried and coated in dark, sticky plum sauce. And the eggnet, which didn't sound that exciting, was delicious, filled with Asian herbs, beansprouts and a light and fragrant dressing. Surprisingly, the duck curry wasn't up to the same standards. I love love love duck, but this was ordinary. I've had better duck curries at the local Thai takeaway. Hmmmn

The portions at Longrain are large, so that while the prices of the dishes are quite high, you don't need to order as many. Our party cancelled the Barramundi special after it didn't arrive with the other main meals and none of us were able to fit in dessert. Which was a shame because some of them sounded great. But after a couple of cocktails each, snacks, wine and then dinner, there was just no room.

My next visit was en route to a Dylan Moran show at the Comedy Festival (goes to look at DM site for link and gets very distracted for about, oh an hour). Figman and I popped in for a quick dinner before the show which was only hampered by three things (1) my foolish guidance by the waiter re cocktail choice (2) food choice and (3) my foolish belief that the show would not start for at least an hour after the advertised starting time. I don't think (1) or (2) really bothered Figman, but (3) definitely had him on edge. Now (1) the waiter talked me into trying his fave cocktail and while it was okay, it was nothing compared to the Mule (we got another of those, mit vodka this time). (2) Food choice: I ordered a few betel leaves to start. These are simply expensive, tiny and not particularly interesting. I ordered the Barossa chicken and eggnet again, plus the caramelised pork hoc with five spice and chilli vinegar. Foolish me assumed that the pork would be slow cooked and soft, similiar to onions. And it was, but then it was deep fried and then coated in caramel, which was just too much sweet fried food in combination with the chicken. I felt that in a restaurant of this calibre, the waitstaff should have picked this up and suggested an alternative. A curry would have been more appropriate in the mix.

I've eaten snacks at the lounge tables and dinner at both the round tables (for larger groups) and the long communal tables. The round tables are frankly a pain, as their width ensures that you cannot hear anyone, other than the person to your immediate right and left. Give up on the conversation across the table. And I always think communal tables are overrated, but if you're at one of these, try sitting next to your fellow diner, rather than opposite as Longrain is a noisy, noisy restaurant.

Again, I didn't get to try dessert, despite some longing looks at the menu as Figman looked outraged that I was even considering waiting around for some sweet tropical fancy. He grabbed the bill and hustled me out of there. "I don't know what your hurry is!" I complained. "You know there'll be some dire support act on and it'll run for at least an hour". He stuck me on a tram when my high heels indicated that we were never going to get there on time. We walked into the lobby and I protested "See! All these people standing around! I soo could have had dessert!". We walked to our seats and sat down. 30 seconds later, the house lights went down. And then Dylan Moran walked onto stage.

I don't often stand corrected, but occasionally, I could do with saving from my self. Or at least the dessert menu every now and then!

Back on the Blog Again

2006-07-15T19:55:00.000+10:00

Blog, what blog? Oh this one. Yes, I have been a little lax with posting recently but I've suddenly been busy. Carrying out tasks that have been left undone for the last year or so. Searching for another place to live (don't talk to me about the country!). Dealing with minor crises, sending my computer off for a little repair job and so forth.

Blogging less and living more. Discovering that some of the things I left in the filing cabinet were actually Quite Important. Writing pleading/threatening letters to bureaucrats and diplomats. Falling back in love with music (which I think is going to drive the Figman insane. I am the girl who bought a cd player years ago - no, not for improved sound but to be able to stick one track on repeat and play it and play it all day long). Spending more time with people and more money on books. I can't believe how long it's been since I went shoe shopping either.

And all in all, it's been good. But I have missed you. I got quite antsy when my computer was on holiday. And little by little, blogthoughts crept back into my head again. I took some food photos yesterday for the first time in a month. My camera cables are now disconnected and I've wiped all the cookies from the system, but never mind. It'll be up there soon.

There have been adventures in food and eating, in friendship and reading, but a rest from writing has been a Very Good Thing indeed. I heartily recommend it.

Nigella's Infamous Roast Chicken Recipe

2006-06-23T13:10:00.000+10:00

While we're on the subject of Nigella Lawson, the woman cannot stop banging on about roast chicken. And she cheerfully admits it herself (that and rhubarb, peas and marsala!). The other day I was in the mood and though I've tried many a roast chicken recipe, they are often fiddly - turn breast side down for half an hour then roll again, slice the legs, cut off the drumsticks and put them back in on their own ... etc etc. This looked very easy - ridiculously simple. I doubted it would work, but I gave the Roast Chicken Poster Girl's version a go. And, ridiculously, it worked.

It is simplicity itself - a whole chicken at room temp. Slather on some butter, drizzle on some oil and sprinkle on some salt (in Nigella-world, salt = Maldon and rightly so). Oh, and a lemon in the cavity. I don't use the zest of citrus unless it's organic, so I cut the pith and peel off these, cut them in half and bunged them in. One chicken takes around 1 1/4 hours, with fifteen minutes for resting. I have adopted another of Nigella's suggestions, which is to roast 2 at once and this takes around 2 hours.

The thighs ARE cooked, the breast meat is NOT too dry, it all seems ludricrous, given the lack of basting and turning, but there you go. Sometimes women in twin sets do know what they're suggestively suggesting ... and the sauce is absolutely delicious.

For a slightly spicier variation a week later (see, it's gone straight to the pool room - sorry, repetoire!), I added some Nando's hot peri peri sauce to the chickens. And about a kilo of julienned carrots went into the dish to roast alongside the chooks. While they were resting, I tossed a packet of Asian egg noodles in with the sauce and carrots and put the dish back into the oven for another 10 minutes, to warm and crisp on top. The noodles were a great addition, but I must warn you to go carefully with them - they soak up all those chickeny, fat-loaded juices and half an hour after eating, a certain someone was rolling around on the couch groaning "why did I eat so much?". But the beauty of the double chicken roast is that there are plenty of leftovers for chicken sandwiches and soup the next day. And no one glares as a drumstick is snapped up, because there are still another three to be eaten. Plenty of food and very easy. I suppose that's the Nigella way. Now I just have to find a cardigan and practise saying "deep, deep, pleasure"*. Humph.

* this is a quote from one of the early tv series - I suspect Nigella Bites. Figman always says it mockingly when I mention the N-word because he thinks she became more about the "come-hither" and less about the food as the shows went on. And he couldn't stand the constant out-of-focus shots blurring all over the place. But he has never turned his precious nose up at anything I've cooked from her books.

Post Party Pasta or Nigella's Rigatoni Al Forno

2006-06-18T22:14:00.000+10:00

I've added another entry to Cooking for Children: Birthday Party Food, so check out tankeduptaco's Flourless Chocolate Cake. I have to say that I don't agree with Nigella Lawson's proclamation that children only care about icing. They deserve decent cake too! But I took a leaf (or recipe rather) out of Ms Lawson's Feast during the birthday celebrations, and cooked up Rigatoni Al Forno. She says that this is excellent for soaking up the booze and that she prefers it to lasagne - though it has the same basic sauces, you escape the tedious layering.

You whip up a jugful of white sauce and make a slow cooked meat sauce (2 hours cooking time minimum). The meat sauce contains 2 cups of red wine (I used shiraz cabernet) and I found the taste too dominant. Figman however, loved it. But when (yes, decidedly when) I make this again, I intend to substitute a cup of passata for half the wine and if I were serving it to children, I'd probably cut the wine altogether.

So the sauces were made on the morning of said party and popped aside. I even managed to grate (double) the cheese beforehand, so all I had to do during the tail end of the festivities was boil the water, cook the pasta, mix, sprinkle and bake. Supposedly the recipe serves sixteen. I had doubts about my biggest roasting dish and also the numbers for dinner, so I only cooked (only!) a kilo of rigatoni. It should have been 1.5 kilos. And when I swirled the sauces in and tipped it into the roaster, I scooped out a couple of bowls as I was petrified that it would bubble over during cooking. Even so, and despite being 2/3 of the recipe and in the biggest dish you could imagine jamming into my oven, it still bubbled over! I was cleaning bits out of the bottom of the oven today. Just so you can see how giant the dish was, I present ...

I have to put it on an angle even to get it INTO the oven. But the rigatoni was pretty good. Figman told me not to give up making lasagne, but I must admit, this is a lot easier. Girls went to bed while the boys stayed up eating more and more pasta and watching random bits of the World Cup.

Picture of meaty goodness inside (though that sounds like an ad for a pie!).

And I know this isn't a sport blog but speaking of the football AUSTRALIA V JAPAN - THREE - ONE! THREE - ONE!!!!! There are some things worth staying up till 3am for. Though I don't recommend stuffing your face with leftover rigatoni al forno while you do!

Cooking for Children 2: Birthday Party Food Roundup

2006-06-12T22:17:00.000+10:00

My house looks like a herd of bison just ran through it. And in case you can't guess, I have just hosted a birthday party for a small child. 30 adults and children trekked out to the countryside for afternoon tea (with dinner for the last ones standing). At a certain point, I thought "what on earth possessed me to DO this?" But everyone had a good time and it's another year before we'll do this again. And by then I'll have picked up some tips from these other bloggers and perhaps, it'll be a piece of cake!

Hannah's Mum at No Eggs Or Nuts has the additional challenge of cooking without (you guessed it) eggs or nuts, but she came up with this charming Bob the Builder cake. With so many parents having to be careful of allergies these days, this is an excellent cake to have in the repetoire for the small ones!

Gabriella True from My Life As A Reluctant Housewife has TWIN BOYS (yes I think something like that needs to go in capitals!) and this is the Safari Cake which celebrated their first birthday. She also made them a smash cake each, which is an excellent idea when they are tiny.

Ramya at Cascading Flavours made this lovely Carrot Cake for a birthday treat. Aren't those icing carrots cute? As a child I loved carrot cake, but I must admit, I loved the cream cheese frosting the best!

Fellow Melburnian tankeduptaco at Food for Thought also went for Flourless Chocolate Cake, but it looks considerably bigger than mine which was a little on the small side. Let's face it, you don't want to run out of cake at a party! And don't miss his musings on birthday party food here and here.

Laura Rebecca of Laura Rebecca's Kitchen dreamed up this Hawaiian Island Cake for Sadie's Hawaiian Luau-themed birthday. Check out the gummy fish and the hula dancers! It reminds me of summer pool parties.

I enjoyed reading Alanna's reminiscences about childhood birthday parties over at Kitchen Parade. And I picked up a couple of handy tips for the cake I baked, after carefully reading her recipe for Chocolate Cinnamon Whipped Cream Cake. I must try that Whipped Cream Cocoa Icing when I make a layer cake!

Now my birthday boy is fairly indifferent to cake. At other children's parties, he takes a bite of cake and then hands it back to me, going off in search of something more exciting ... like sultanas? But he adores chocolate. So I decided on a cake that was more chocolately than cakey - one from Matthew Evans' column "Any Fool Can Cook" in the weekend Good Living liftout. I am a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to flourless chocolate cakes and I have to admit that I adore this one. It's simply eggs, chocolate and butter, with a little bit of vinegar thrown in. And entirely suitable for these kiddies in that there was no alcohol or other flavouring. I slicked some all-fruit raspberry jam over the sunken surface when it had cooled, and then filled the crater with whipped cream. Some chopped chocolate helped provide contrasting background for the Happy Birthday sign and also a crunchy texture to offset the soft sweetness of the cake. And was it popular? Was it ever! It's a cake that needs eating with a fork, so perhaps not entirely suitable for all parties, but there were plenty of parents on hand to supervise here.

I tried to be a little less in the kitchen during this party and decided to do less and socialise more. I ordered large turkish breads with garlic and cheese toppings and served them warm and sliced. Bowls of flavoured rice crisps. I baked a tray of chippolatas for miniature do-it-yourself-hot dogs - tiny buns and a choice of ketchup, mustard, chutney and fried onions. Anyone who hung around for dinner was served up Nigella's Rigatoni Al Forno, but that's another post altogether.

Thanks to everyone for participating! There were technical difficulties with a couple of entries, so please contact me if yours isn't up here. And Happy Birthday to all your little ones!

Sitting On Fence

2006-06-11T21:28:00.000+10:00

Aack, I solicit you for party goods and then I disappear off the face of the internet! I am undecided between pulling a Benjamin Disraeli ("never complain, never explain") and an overshare (guess who spent last week scrubbing vomit out of a childseat?").

Let's just say that eating and drinking have been pretty much off the menu round here, let alone drooling over photos of cakes and reading recipes. But we have all crawled out of bed, washed an unbelievable number of Wondersuits and it's time to pack away the glucose sweets and flat lemonade. Hurrah! And time to party.

Cooking for Children 2: Birthday Party Food Roundup should be up by tomorrow. It is a public holiday here after all. Although, even though I have not been twice British Prime Minister, I don't have to explain. I do do an extraordinary lot of complaining though ... hmmmm

Plum Duffer

2006-05-29T11:39:00.000+10:00

I seem to collect plum sauces, the way some people collect, you know, um, shoes. Or Tupperware. Something useful and utterly necessary at any rate. It puzzles me though, the sheer volume of the stuff I attract. After all, it's not the most common or popular of sauces and yet I seem to find it everywhere. And I mean everywhere. You see that Alice Langton Spice Chilli Plum Brandy Sauce at the front? I bought that when we drove up to Mount Macedon to look at some lovely autumn gardens which had opened for the weekend. Gardens. Lots of deciduous trees and ornamental topiary, but not exactly prime plum sauce material. I'd only stuck a twenty in my pocket for incidentals.

But after a long walk through a 20 acre private garden, I spied a patchwork shop by the side of the road. They had some beautiful quilts, lovely fabrics, and a very small selection of commestibles. Which included said sauce. Yes, I go for a walk in the country and come back with plum sauce!

The others were purchased at more likely locations - farmers' markets and fancy stores. I've rhapsodized about the Cunliffe Waters Spicy Blood Plum Sauce before but the Flambe Yum Plum is my favourite at the moment - a very simple concoction that reflects just plum - not soy or onion or anything else. I love it on chicken wings or dolloped on ice cream - just about anything really.

And for dinner last night I needed a quick throw-together-type meal. Half a jar of Cunliffe Waters Plum Sauce. One tin of organic tomatoes. An onion, sliced. Tip in a kilo of prime lamb chump chops and bake for 1 1/2 hours in a slowish oven. The meat was falling off the bone. The sauce was rich and savoury. And very plummy. Yum.

Reminder: Please email your entries for Cooking for Children 2: Birthday Party Food to favouriteplum(at)yahoo.com.au by 29 May 2006.

Hide and Seek

2006-05-27T14:37:00.000+10:00

I don't know how I'm going to break it to the Plumbaby that now that his throat is feeling better, he's not going to be getting chocolate ice cream for breakfast anymore!

At least we won't be resorting to desperate attempts to get his medicine into him. He quickly learned that whatever was in the syringe tasted nasty ("strawberry" flavoured my arse!) and however I doctored it up, it was no go. He would turn his head to the side, purse his lips and when cornered, would simply wait until it was all in his mouth and then let it trickle out one side.

I thankfully remembered Roald Dahl's Danny the Champion of the World. And if I remembered rightly, Danny devised an ingenious way to poach pheasants from the wood - by slitting open raisins and concealing tranquilisers. I took a plump sultana and inserted a tablet. Squished it closed and you could hardly tell it had been tampered with. Certainly Plumbaby couldn't, well, until he chewed it.

We soon fell to new versions - hidden in banana, inside soft peach, wrapped inside some fluffy bread. Plumbaby's reaction ranged from weary acceptance to bitter disgust - when Figman hid one in chocolate he received some dark, dark looks and a glare that said "I'm not going to be falling for THAT one again". But the course of medicine is over. And just as well, because we've run out of foods to hide it in!

Reminder: Please email your entries for Cooking for Children 2: Birthday Party Food to favouriteplum(at)yahoo.com.au by 29 May 2006.

Weekend Herb Blogging: Rosemary Redux

2006-05-21T17:48:00.000+10:00

We eat roast lamb a lot round here, in the standard permutations of rosemary and garlic, rosemary and anchovy, rosemary, garlic AND anchovy - you get the picture. One of my last efforts included shop-bought rosemary and it was just UGH, nasty and bitter, left me wondering why I'd bothered to put it in at all!

Buying rosemary is a bit of a new phenomenon for me, as I've tended to live in houses with enormous rosemary plants. One so much so, that when meeting a neighbour for the first time, she exclaimed "Oh so you own that rosemary - the entire street helps themselves to it!" And the rosemary we planted in the last house grew so quickly that visitors could snap off a few arm-length branches without any visible effect. So paying $2.99 for a piddly package of rancid rosemary does not thrill me.

But after the last debacle I decided to go raid the fledgling potted rosemary in the garden for a handful of needles. I was cracking open my copy of The Silver Spoon to make the simple Cosciotto Arrosto. The bush withstood the pillage and soon I was happily wrapping the needles in sage and poking them into little slits of lamb fat. Then scattered with garlic chunks and slices of pancetta, a tip of wine and vinegar, it was into the oven for a long roast.

This time the rosemary tasted sweet yet strong. A most pleasing result. And, speaking of which, I am most delighted that I managed to enter Weekend Herb Blogging again, after many missed weekends. Check out the rest at Kalyn's Kitchen!

The Kind of Blogger I Am

2006-05-19T20:51:00.000+10:00

Well I seem to have posted not once but egregiously TWICE on No Food Blog Day, but in my defence I'm sure it was Wednesday by Australian Eastern Standard Time if not Blogger time. Oh well. These things happen.

On a personal level, this is what I found more appalling than the above transgression. Imagine this.

Girl gets jealous of Jamie Oliver's streaky bacon shown in Italy. Girl buys huge slab of pancetta and feels immensely self-satisfied.
Girl promptly hacks some off for use in authentic Italian Silver Spoon escapade, being careful to document the process.
Girl wraps pancetta and ignoring Nigella Lawson's directions to freeze, chucks it in the back of the fridge for use later. Which will surely be soon.
Two months later Girl is flicking through her Photos For Blog folder and is reminded that indeed she bought some pancetta. And it's still there at the back of the fridge.

Do you see what being a food blogger can do to you? Get out now. While you can. Hehehehe

Cooking for Children 2: Birthday Party Food

2006-05-16T21:17:00.000+10:00

I remember the parties of my childhood. Presents, dresses, running around screaming with my friends (too much excitement or red cordial?). I also remember the hours spent beforehand, carefully looking through the Women's Weekly Birthday Cakes cookbook wondering whether the doll with the icing skirt was better than the sugar popcorn train? I never understood how anyone could go for that swimming pool cake (filled with green jelly). But I heard editor Pamela Clark on the radio the other day and she insists that it remains one of their most popular cakes. Hmmmn.

For my own darling Plumbaby's birthday, I'm trying to think of food that's fun and fresh. So please help out with Cooking for Children 2: Birthday Party Food and send me any ideas for this year's festivities. Cakes, savoury snacks, sweet treats - you name it.

Please email your entries to favouriteplum(at)yahoo.com.au by 29 May 2006. And remember, it doesn't have to be a new post - any great ideas from your archives are very welcome here!

Note to Self

2006-05-16T20:48:00.000+10:00

Do NOT hustle your visitors out of bed on a frosty Saturday morning. Do NOT glare at anyone who's not dressed within 30 minutes and snap at a pathetic creature who wants breakfast that they can "get something there!".

Do NOT hoon through the countryside, sure that all the best breads, bargains and books will be gone by the time you get there. Because you may find a half-empty square, with only a handful of stalls. Freezing wind which has you all scurrying back to the car within minutes. A car full of half awake folk who haven't had any coffee. And after they brought me this.

At least we got pastries?

Food Poison Casserole

2006-05-09T15:57:00.000+10:00

Well actually, it was a curry. You see, Figman has this thing about waste. Hates it. Loathes it. Detests it. (you get the picture). And I was clearing out the meat compartment yesterday when I found some chicken thigh fillets I'd bought on Friday. They were large and plump, but also coated in that bacteria-laden slime so beloved of food poisoning epics. I was about to throw it out but I KNEW what F would say if he saw it in the bin. We have very different views about what constitutes spoiled food and I'm happy to admit that I once squirted dishwashing liquid over a pan of lamb chops to stop him from ingesting them. Anyway, I knew that Figman would insist on eating this.

FINE, I thought and decided that if I was going to do this, I might as well do it properly. So I found some ancient curry paste which had formed a crust over the surface at the back of the fridge and threw it together with some yoghurt whose use by date was more than a week ago.

I gave the man a full disclaimer and he demanded a platefull. He said it tasted delicious. Humph.

Lavandula Swiss Italian Autumn Harvest Festival

2006-05-07T17:37:00.000+10:00

Last weekend we trekked out to Lavandula for their Swiss Italian Autumn Harvest Festa. Lavandula is a lavender farm near Daylesford, and they hold a festival each season to celebrate the bounty of nature. This one promised "olive harvest, jam making, bottling quinces, roasting chestnuts, Italian music and singing and dancing the tarantella". While much of this was here, it was really a great deal more like being present at someone's party than attending a festival.

Busloads of apparent Swiss Italians arrived just as we did and quickly claimed the reserved tables under the trees. They mostly brought their own picnics, which was just as well, given that the farm restaurant, La Trattoria, was besieged from all sides by hungry visitors. They featured a short menu of oxtail with gnocchi, minestrone and several types of pizza. As I stood waiting to give my order, a serve of mushroom pizza went flying out the kitchen window and just missed a waitress who had bent down for some paper. "Oh well" she said, unflappable. "You can't be perfect all the time".

The oxtail tasted a little smoky (burnt?) but the mushroom pizza with thyme and taleggio was scrumptious. I suspect the base was nothing more than flour, oil, egg and water and it was crisp and flaky and just what was needed out in the cold.

There was plenty of fruit and vegetables to be seen but not a great deal for sale. There were a few vendors of olive oils, preserves and cheeses, but to be honest, you'd find a wider selection at most of the farmer's markets. However there is the lovely Lavandula giftshop for anyone needing to flex the plastic! We walked around the property, peeped at the lavender fields (not in bloom now) and tasted wine and cider and just-made jam. When the music started up, the crowd under the trees began to sing and dance, elderly women in scarves joined hands and began to dance and for a moment, you forgot you were in Australia.

Lavandula holds these festivals regularly but I think I'd be more tempted to return on a quiet day when we could hole up in La Trattoria and see fields bursting with lavender blossom. Until then, enjoy the pics!

Change of Seasons/Change of Coats

2006-05-06T19:30:00.000+10:00

The rain that thundered down last weekend has transformed the countryside. Hills that were golden are now coloured green. Fields bleached beyond pale have turned lush overnight. It's quite bizarre, as quick as a change of coats.

And now it's time to finally accept that summer is over. I have held onto the last of the summer fruit, paying exorbitant prices for mangoes ($5 apiece) simply because I've been dreaming of them. And gathering large bags of blood plums, my absolute favourite fruit, and storing them in the fridge. But as you can see from the photo above, the plums are growing soft and saggy. I like them hard and fresh, sour and green. It's time to put them away and wait with eagerness for next summer's crop.

Meanwhile the apples are in. When at Fernleigh Farm, I picked up some new season organic apples. One bite and I was in love. Crisp, sweet and almost dripping juice. Old plums simply don't compare to new apples, no matter how much I adore them.

And it's even time for a change of cookbooks. On my counter is a copy of Vogue's Short Order and Seasonal. Vogue Entertaining and Living brought these two out a few years ago - one for spring/summer and one autumn/winter. They are full of quick, if fancy, ideas for seasonal eating. I don't think they are still available - I got one free with a Vogue magazine and the other appears to have been picked up cheap at the newsagents for $4.00. As I put spring/summer away I flicked through autumn/winter, peering at soups, roasts and other warming foods. And despite the bowl of plums in my fridge, I know now winter's here.

Jerusalem Artichokes or How I Finally Get Around To What Jamie Oliver's Always Told Me

2006-04-30T09:42:00.000+10:00

Well, not me personally. But in his books and his shows he is constantly banging on about jerusalem artichokes. In the first Naked Chef series, I remember him cooking some up with his little poussins for Christmas dinner. Now I am, ahem, a bit stubborn. When something gets rammed down my throat, I tend to ignore it. Repeatedly. So the more I heard about jerusalem artichokes, the firmer became my resolve not to try them. (Figman said to me "You must have been a difficult child"!)

But I was walking around the Prahran Markets with something approaching a shopping list when I came across a small sackful marked "artichokes". My list did include artichokes, I think I had aspirations of some fancy-dan salad. But these were obviously not artichokes. I mean, if you can't tell the difference between an artichoke and a jerusalem artichoke, then all I can say is that your cooking is going to be very intriguing. Ahem.

The jerusalem artichokes were small and knobbly and didn't look that difficult to cook, so I scooped some up and went forth. Jamie Oliver and Stephanie Alexander have different methods of preparation - he is for the straightforward scrub, while she prefers the peel. They are a great deal easier to peel once some of the knobblier bits have been cut off but I didn't find it too tedious a task. It only becomes laborious when you look down and see how many you've still got to go!

They do discolour slightly but I didn't bother with the acidulated water. They were being peeled, chopped and thrown in with a leg of lamb as it roasted. The beauty of this is that they cook very quickly, so a lazy cook like me can prep them as I go.

Jerusalem artichokes have a lovely nutty taste. I roasted them with sweet potato and the contrast between flavours was great. It might be a little mild to enjoy on its own, unless you are deliberately seeking subtle. They have a GI value of 50 (same as sweet potato) and 3g of carb per 100.

I found these lovely ones at Fernleigh Farm, just outside of Daylesford. Owner Fiona Chambers told me that they had just been dug that morning and their crisp white flesh covered in rich earth seemed to confirm it! These ones were at least twice the size of those at the markets and absolutely delicious. I am in danger of becoming a convert ...

So I might have to admit that occasionally Jamie Oliver knows what he's going on about. Ahem.

Cooking for Children 1: Easter Treats Round Up

2006-04-24T20:35:00.000+10:00

Well here it is - the inaugural Cooking For Children foodblogging event! This month's theme was Easter Treats and it was lovely to see the creativity and variety involved.

The picture above is from Kate at Pie in the Sky and her Eggspanding, Organegg Eggstravaganza! Kate mentioned to me that the souffle part of her Eggstravaganza might be a little hard for little hands, but using natural dyes to colour the shells and then turning them into herb planters is just right methinks! And for the curious at heart, there are updates here and here.

These Meringue Mice came all the way from Montreal and aren't they amazingly cute? Just look at those almond ears! They remind me of the sugar mice in the Enid Blyton books I read avidly as a child. Zoubida at Kitchen Culture whips these up for her sons each Easter. A great idea for a contrast to all the chocolate!

Fellow Melbourne girl Vicious Ange made Nigella Lawson's Easter Egg Nest Cake . I mentioned that I'd made this one year, but Ange's looks far more together than mine, (which was a bit of a shambles, but the kids only had eyes for the tiny coloured eggs). Ange managed to get her hands on some of those too, but I recommend stocking up early! This dessert is a rare thing - a rich chocolately adult taste but with such appeal for children too!

Ramya from Cooking Within My Grasp decided to join in the fun at short notice and I'm so glad she did. This is a fruit Easter bunny, made of sliced bananas and apples. Ramya says that this is her "simplest treat for my little boy" but it's also delightful!

Another Melbourne blogger at Lazy Cow came up with a plateful of goodness - Hot Cross Buns courtesy of Delia. My heart just melts when I look at the expression on the Girl's face as she reaches for one. This is what festivities are all about.

My own little effort at Trish Deseine's Easter Eggs can be found here (or you could just scroll down the page, he he). I had more ambitious plans to tackle these little cupcake Easter chickies as mentioned by Cate from Sweetnicks, but a trip to my favourite Nut Shop found them all out of shredded coconut. Now I thought it unlikely that everyone in the area had suddenly decided to make Spring Cakes (dear Martha's not that big in Melbourne, or Australia really) but I couldn't be bothered to trek round and find some more. Next time perhaps.

And speaking of next time, I'd like to nominate Birthday Party Food as the next theme (could she possibly have an ulterior motive you ask?). Please email your entries to favouriteplum(at)yahoo.com.au by 29 May 2006. And remember, it doesn't have to be a new post - any great ideas from your archives are very welcome here!

A very big THANK YOU to everyone who participated. And I know that a couple more contributions might be in the works - send 'em on in and I'll put them up. Happy Easter everyone!

Naked Grape

2006-04-22T20:55:00.000+10:00

What kind of person buys wine because it's described as "toffee apple"?? I mean really, would you want me to choose your drink for you?

Wandering around Bay Street before Easter with visitors, we had some time to spend. After a leisurely coffee at Readings bookshop (Plumbaby got to play with the toy trains and I got to check out Tessa Kiros' gorgeous new book Apples for Jam), CDs were purchased, muffins were consumed and then it was off for a stroll. Sweetshops, pet shops (try separating the Plumbaby from a kitten and see what happens!) and much more.

Then we came to the Naked Grape and the activity stalled. They sell a range of Australian wines, labelled as "Naked Grape" and generally around the $15 mark. The store is filled with cartons standing in stacks and bright posters, declaiming the wine's provenance and tasting notes. One of our party undertook a detailed tasting, while I simply wandered around aimlessly until the words "toffee apple" caught my eye. Hook, line and sinker.

There was much joking as this was poured out, several hours later, but it actually wasn't bad. Nor is $15 spent for a 2003 Yarra Valley Pinot Noir. Figman cracked open a bottle of the considerably more expensive Tasmanian stuff the next night and, sad to say, it wasn't as palatable. Score: One backdown by Mr "You can't find good Pinot under $50". Here's to aimless wandering!

Reminder: please send your Cooking For Children Easter Treats to me at favouriteplum(at)yahoo.com.au by 23 April 2006.

Cooking For Children 1: Easter Treats

2006-04-19T11:28:00.000+10:00

A few days after Easter and here it is! I had hoped to have the Plumbaby help me with these, but a little accident meant that his hands were in bandages and melted chocolate was a no no. But he could still enjoy the finished product with gusto! I mentioned here that I was using a Trish Deseine recipe for Easter Eggs. A very simple one, this requires simply chocolate and breakfast cereal of your choice. I used Callebaut 53% dark chocolate callets and Rice Bubbles and Vita Wheaties.

To make, I melted the chocolate in the microwave on medium heat. Stirred until the last of the chips were melted. Added handfuls of Rice Bubbles until the grains were coated well and then pressed into a clean dry mould. Once the cereal is added, the chocolate begins to set quite quickly and while you are finicking around with a rogue Rice Bubble, you may find that half your mixture has now stuck hard to the side of the bowl. Ahem. I'd recommend making this in several smaller batches, particularly when children are helping in the kitchen.

I tried both the large "hollow" egg halves and the solid smaller egg halves. The density of the mixture makes it difficult to obtain a truly hollow shell unless you have a giant mould, and the size of the cereal grains affect how solidly a small mould can be filled. Some of the solid ones were not particularly egg-shaped. I mean, they had a vague egg-shape, but when you compare them to these small ones which were filled with raisins and chocolate ...
The wholewheat Vita Wheaties cereal produced a crunchy spectacle!
This cereal is a healthier option than the Rice Bubbles, which also contains sugar, salt and various additives. I bought some puffed brown rice, but the grains are twice as long and don't shape well. But otherwise, it's an Easter Treat which is considerably lower in sugar than standard milk chocolate eggs. Not bad for the little cooks and well, the big ones liked them too!

Reminder: please send your Cooking For Children Easter Treats to me at favouriteplum(at)yahoo.com.au by 23 April 2006.

Easter Tales

2006-04-18T10:48:00.000+10:00

They're coming, they're coming soon, I promise.

Cooking For Children: C4C

2006-04-12T12:07:00.000+10:00

AH HA! Yet another foodblog event to feel guilty about, you say. No, it's not like that at all. Truly. I'd just like a place to collect all those tried and tested recipes that children love.

Food to cook for kids (like my little one, who isn't quite at the sous chef stage yet).

And food for children to make alongside you.

And perhaps, if they are budding little chefs, food that children can make for you while you have a lie in and a read of the paper. (Yeah, right!)

I'd been thinking about this for a while, and when local boy Tankeduptaco wrote about his concerns for children's party food, I decided I would start a monthly event called C4C and that birthday food would kick it off. But it dawned on me yesterday that I have dawdled so much in getting started that it's practically EASTER! So the first theme will be Easter Treats. Big Cooks can email me their link at favouriteplum(at)yahoo.com.au by Sunday 23 April. Actually, given that some people might like the inspiration, I'll put these up as received, but the summary will go up on the 23rd. I don't mind if it's something from your archives, all entries will be happily received!

In Easters gone by, I've dyed the hardboiled eggs and rolled them down a hill. I've painstakingly stuck halves of chocolate eggs together while hoping the shells wouldn't crack. I even made Nigella Lawson's fluffy Chocolate Cloud Cake, covered with pastel speckled eggs one year. The children, needless to say, were far more impressed with the tiny eggs which came out of a packet from the supermarket! This year, I think I'll take Trish Deseine's idea of moulding melted chocolate and breakfast cereal. Much easier for little hands and that great crunchy taste! Tune in for updates ...

To sum up:
First monthly event of Cooking For Children C4C is Easter Treats
Posts to favouriteplum(at)yahoo.com.au by 23 April 2006.

Have fun!

Weekend Market: Collingwood Children's Farm

2006-04-08T22:03:00.000+10:00

I didn't make it to Collingwood Children's Farm today (I was busy wasting my time elsewhere) but it DID remind me that I hadn't posted these pics from a month ago. I rarely take pictures at the markets because my hands are otherwise occupied and a camera is likely to be squashed under a giant pumpkin or four heads of broccoli and I don't remember anything in my warranty agreement about that. The photo above captures one of my favourite spots in the world. You come through the great gates and wander down the little path. Turn a bend and then suddenly this view opens before you. Graceful trees along a river bank. Grapevines nestled next to the footpath. Higgledy piggledy allotments, growing here there and everywhere. It makes me happy.

I was very cross when I looked at this photo and realised I'd missed out on the fresh pistachios! And even more so when I read this. But I can hardly complain. Apart from the smoked trout and overload of coriander, I scooped up vegetables and honey, a box of yellow peaches and the plumpest little sultanas I have ever seen.

Children love it here - the animals and the green add to the sense of freedom - they run wild on the grass or munch roasted corn on hay bales. This market is not strictly organic, but they do require "no spraying" at a minimum. I always am determined to limit my purchases and I always come away with way too much. The farm loans out its wheelbarrows to cart your stuff back to the carpark, but it's a farm and I'm never too sure what's been in there!

Weekend Market: Gisborne Olde Time Market

2006-04-02T12:43:00.000+10:00

One thing about moving to the country is that a whole slew of markets which were previously out of reach are now just a hop, skip and a jump away! Weekend markets and now farmers' markets, have become huge in Victoria, so much so that there is a thick little book for sale which lists hundreds of craft, food and treasure markets across the state.

The change of clocks for daylight saving, meant that we were actually up reasonably early for once and managed to get to this market just as it was opening at 9. When we left 2 hours later, it was absolutely packed; hopefully this will strengthen my resolve to ignore the lure of the warm bed and make it bright and early to other market days!

The Gisborne Olde Time Market (why not "Olde Tyme" I know?) is a mix of crafts and food, plants and toys. Vintage Action Men for $3 next to a poffertjes stand. Kiddiwinks got a salty Bretzel and had to be dragged protesting from the bouncy castle. Figman found a decent local Pinot Noir for $20 and managed to add to the organic herb collection. And me? Not surprisingly, I was mostly weighed down with food! The bread pictured above - a light rye and a dense heavy rye, the kind I've been craving. I grew up with traditional German rye bread and a lot of what passes for rye these days doesn't cut it with me (or the lovely bakerina either)! 2 kilos of oranges, unsprayed and picked just two days ago. A couple of kilos of tomatoes (I contemplated the 10 kilos for $15 box and walked on. Let's face it, was I really going to get around to making sugo?).

Two lovely little jars - lemon pesto and red curry paste from the Flambe preserves range. I haven't tried the curry paste, but the lack of nuts appealed to me as the mother of a toddler. And the lemon pesto - simply amazing. The stallholder told me that the pistachio pesto was her bestseller, but to me the zesty lemon one just sang. This goes up on my list of The Best Things I Put in My Mouth in 2006.

Some of the produce was not particularly local. The nice chap behind the rocky road stand assured me that his confectionery was made locally - in his kitchen in Altona! That bread? Baked in Richmond. And the oranges and their seller came from 350 kilometres away in Swan Hill. I gazed at the orange man in astonishment. "How can that be worthwhile for you?" "As soon as it stops being worthwhile, I'll stop doing it" he replied dryly. I suppose with the orange glut and dumping of 25,000 tonnes in this state recently, $2 a kilo might not be so bad after all.

This particular market only runs from October to May (I know, just when I found it!) but the Gisborne Farmer's Market starts up soon. I've had a flick through the list of local markets and I think we're going to be very well fed around here. And you thought moving to the country would change my ways .... !

White Chicken Barley Soup

2006-03-29T21:44:00.000+11:00

Now it sounds ridiculous to call this white chicken soup, but bear with me. I was expanding, if you will, on an idea I found in Michel Montignac's Food Lover's Diet. (Why was I even reading this book? I blame Jeffery Steingarten) The recipe section contains many gorgeous pictures of food that seem as far from a diet as you could imagine, and one of the soups caught my attention.

The instructions were clear that this was to use a "white chicken stock" and ensure that no carrots were included. Carrots are a staple of my chicken stock, as are onions, celery and leek. As I read further, it became clear that the lusciousness of the soup lay in the pour in of 600ml of good cream. I love cream. Simply adore it. But if I am going to eat even a portion of 600ml of it, it will be in creme brulee or caramel. A stunning chocolate mousse or truffles. NOT SOUP. Sorry.

But this gave me an idea, to drop the carrots from my current soup. I was pleasantly surprised. It gave this old favourite a slightly new kick and you certainly couldn't tell that anything was missing. I threw in some pearl barley as well but it was a simple soup of green and white. Curled up in front of the new season of Survivor, who could ask for anything more?

Recipe White Chicken Barley Soup

Vegetables
3 leeks, white part only
2 medium onions
Half a head of celery

I had a tray of chicken wings in the fridge, so I put those in the stock pot with a little olive oil first. Browned slightly and then added the sliced vegetables. Covered with water and brought up the boil very slowly. Simmer for an hour or so.

I then scooped the wings out and let them cool (they were fried quickly the next night and enjoyed with satay sauce). In went a whole chicken, cut into 10 pieces by my darling chicken man, and about a cup of organic pearl barley. Simmered for about an hour (you can take the breast parts out earlier if you are fussy about them overcooking). Salt, stir, serve.

Pork And Other Acts of Love

2006-03-29T15:25:00.000+11:00

The Figman loves pork. I do not. Often, a purchase of pork indicates that he will be dining alone that night and it is truly an indication of some sort of love that I gracefully conceded to his wish.

I present to you: FIGMAN'S WEEK OF PORK !!!!

It all started off with my search for a celebration dish. One glimpse at these ravishing photos at Nordjus and I knew I had found the main star. And the recipe, from Jamie Oliver's Italian papa, Gennaro Contaldo, was online and ready to go. Now this recipe provides for 10 to 12 helpings and a 5kg piece of meat, which even for Figman, is a bit much. I asked my butcher for a 2 to 3kg piece of Otway Pork belly with ribs and excess fat removed. Now I don't much care for the sight of raw meat, but this was a beautiful thing, sitting here glistening with salty crystals.

This is where the sage came in, along with chopped rosemary and thyme, garlic and fennel seeds. I'm not a fan of fennel either, but it worked really well in this dish and it was not overpowering. I might have halved the amounts of herbs and spices in accordance with the smaller pork belly if I had been paying attention, but as I wasn't and only realised mid-way, I left things as they were.

Trussed like a bastard. (I don't know why I said that, it just felt right!) There was a bit of controversy at this point, as the good Gennaro said to "tie it very tightly with string in the middle of the joint" and "then tie at either end about 1cm/½ inch from the edge and keep tying along the joint until you have used up all the string". Now the Cook's Book said to tie in the middle, but not tightly, and to work outwards from the middle instead. The Cook's Book had some nice step by step pictures so I decided to go with that. The string lengths were way too long, but that could have had something to do with the fact that my belly was missing several kilos. Ahem.

Now I like to at least pretend to follow recipes faithfully the first time, but I was a bit worried about the lack of piercing the fat. For crackling. But there were references throughout to crisp crackling and so on and I decided to wait respectfully. Until it became clear that no crackling was going to appear without my assistance and I pierced the now sizzling hot roast. I do not recommend this, but at least there was some crackling action in the end. I threw some chunks of pumpkin in when the temperature was reduced and they caramelized around the edges brilliantly.

The hot porchetta is pictured at the top of this post. Below are slices of it cold, the next day. I will find it hard to ever buy porchetta from the delicatessen again, this is so superior. It's fantastic for sandwiches or with a salad. This had quite a large layer of fat on top and reheated briefly in the microwave it became sizzling and delicious all over again.

And the rest of the WEEK OF PORK? Well, there were Pork Country Ribs baked in Plum and Lime Sauce with Garlic Hunks. There were Porchetta leftovers for a couple of days. The One Pan Sage-and-Onion Chicken and Sausage dish featured pork chipolatas. And some Otway Pork cutlets turned up with herbed mustard sauce. Do you think I can now get away without cooking pork for another year??

WHB: Suddenly Sage

2006-03-26T11:41:00.000+11:00

I've always had sage growing in the gardens I've lived in but it was generally left unplucked. Despite its genus name Salvia meaning "health" I found an overdose of of sage more revolting than restorative. Truthfully, it turned my stomach. But I've been wooed back by an abundance in the herb spot and this week found myself cooking with it not once, but twice.

The first was in the classic Italian porchetta. A mix of rosemary, thyme and sage, chopped and sprinkled over pork belly with garlic, then rolled and roasted. This was part of Figman's Week of Pork and will, if I get my act into gear, be tomorrow's post. But today is Sunday, and the traditional roast sprang to mind, despite the 32C heat outdoors.

Flicking through Feast, I'd come across a Nigella Lawson recipe for One Pan Sage-and-Onion Chicken and Sausage featuring a jointed chicken and sausages, roasted in the flavours of sage and onion stuffing, minus the bread. She suggests a lengthy marinade for this, but I didn't have the time and it didn't seem to suffer too much as a result. And it was easiness itself to prepare.

Simply toss the chicken pieces into a large roasting pan with the sausages and generously sliced onion. I then mixed 2 tablesoons of mustard with 100ml of oil and added balsamic vinegar as I was missing the stipulated lemon and Worcestershire sauce. (Note to self: I just cannot get it into my head that I have to buy lemons now!). Finely sliced sage and a few sprigs of thyme finished this off and it was into the oven within 10 minutes of starting. I then left it to its own devices for an hour and a bit. It does give me such a delightfully smug feeling to wander around the house in the knowledge that lunch is cooking away and I don't have to do anything more to it!

The flavours are quite strong and I recommend a vibrant green salad to balance this. Nigella pairs it with a Bread Sauce Potato Gratin, but to me , that is simply too much stodge. It brings to mind the traditional groaning from the table and the subsequent Sunday afternoon lie-down. Whereas I was able to spring up and go and check out a chocolate shop. Which I think is much better.

Tune in tomorrow for Pork And Other Acts of Love! And check out the other contributions at Weekend Herb Blogging over at Kalyn's Kitchen.

Hot Smoked Trout and Wasabi Ricotta Toasts

2006-03-25T22:16:00.000+11:00

My sister and I are entirely different food shoppers. I wander around with a few vague ideas and pick up whatever interests me. She plans a week of meals and sets off, list in hand. When I found this out, I was baffled. "Really? You do?" It just puzzled me that we could have such different styles. She cooks from recipes mostly and while I own an entire bookcase of cookbooks, I use them mostly for techniques and inspirations - I very rarely actually cook from them.

I think that this is spilling over more and more into my entertaining life. On several occasions recently, when called upon to compose a menu for guests, I've stumbled. Absolutely blocked. Poured over the books most likely to help and still nothing. But once I'm in the market, I see the produce in front of me and suddenly it all falls into place. Trout. Wasabi. Ricotta.

One of the delights I picked up at the Collingwood Children's Farm Market was Buxton Smoked Trout. Figman and I have pigged out on this before and I knew it would be perfect for a little snack before dinner. (Does anyone, incidentally, still refer to these as hors d'oeuvres? It makes me feel like I'm in the 70's!). As I popped the whole trout into my calico bag, I was mentally assembling these little toasts and they came out according to plan.

An Illiwarra Sourdough baguette. Wasabi swirled through fresh ricotta. Trout flaked and boned. Handful of chopped coriander. A couple of drops of sesame oil. Easy peasy. I also bought a bottle of the Buxton salmon roe (hand milked) and used them to decorate. The one pictured above doesn't have the roe because I hadn't thought of it at that point!

These were a hit at the dinner. The richness of the hot smoked trout is balanced well by the light bite of the wasabi and the zing of the little balls of roe bursting in the mouth. Although next time I'd like to use the Lemnos Organic Ricotta as it has a smooth creamy texture which would complement the wasabi and trout perfectly. I found it in the supermarket of all places!

Bored

2006-03-23T19:46:00.000+11:00

Staring at the vegetable drawer in the fridge. It is half full of limp, droopy produce. I Have Done It Again - bought too much in a fit of enthuiasm and now I am paying the price.

I had ordered and paid for a box of organic vegetables. But en route and on the spur of the moment, I decided to drop in at the Collingwood Children's Farm Market (another post, trust me!). As per usual, I was overwhelmed with all the gorgeous, simply gorgeous stuff. Now when I saw the best broccoli I have seen all year at 4 for $5, how could I resist? Into the bag they went, along with a cauliflower, red cabbage and four bunches of coriander. I bought as much as I could carry and my shoulders ached for days. But it was worth it, I thought. Until I collected my boxes of fruit and vegetables and went "oh oh".

We've worked our way through most of it but the first bloom has definitely worn off. And I am now just tired of opening the fridge to see the same soggy stuff staring back at me. Bored bored bored with it. I know this sounds very petulant and Western, but guess what? That's exactly what I am.

But the remains of my conscience won't let me throw anything out until it actually has moulded, so tonight I picked out the by-now-very-bendy zucchinis and threw them in a pan sliced, with mint and spring onions. I figured this would help hide their limpidity. It wasn't bad, but I can't wait to empty that drawer and fill it up with new, exciting, fresh stuff.

The really appalling part about this is that it's nothing new. I do this all the time. When am I going to learn?

Happy Birthday Pavlova (well sort of anyway)

2006-03-21T22:37:00.000+11:00

Someone near and dear to me professes to loathe desserts and yet cannot resist this one. I had had it with the oven in our old house and swore that when we moved, I would bake a pavlova quick smart. While this new house is large and newish, the kitchen is its definite downfall - small in a HUGE open plan area, inadequately planned and cramped. When we inspected it, I opened the oven, grimaced and asked the agent if she had anything bigger. But everything else was right and so here we are. And I even managed to get my fancy French stainless steel baking tray into the oven (though only just).

So without any excuse to hold off on the long-promised pavlova, I set out with Stephanie Alexander's recipe from the Cook's Companion. I had made meringues years ago and this seemed like a breeze. It must be a Melbourne girl thing - Cin had just made this same one and I might move on to Niki's Nigella Chocolate Pav as soon as I tossed this one off the tray and slathered it with cream. Yeah, that was the theory.

When I assembled the ingredients on the bench top, I discovered that there was no caster sugar in the house. Half a cup of brown sugar for visitors' tea and coffee, but nothing more. So I grabbed the Plumbaby from his bed (he was supposed to be having a nap) and drove off to the supermarket with him still in his Bonds Wondersuit. When we were in the fruit section, a little girl looked up at him sitting in the trolley and said in bewilderment to her mother "Mama, he's in his 'jamas!". Sugar in hand, baby back in bed, I got down to business. The recipe calls for the egg whites and sugar to be whipped to "satiny peaks". Now I know soft peaks and stiff peaks, but this was a new one to me. And at some point while I stared at the beater going round and round, I must have passed soft, stiff and satiny, and moved onto "overwhipped". At least this is the theory. Several frantic whispered phone calls to a cousin who is an old hand at these (she was at work) made it clear that the soft marshmallowy mixture was not prime pav material. She advised throwing it out and starting again. But I was reluctant as (a) it was so very sticky (b) I was working under time constraints and needed the oven for a 3 hour porketta roast soon and (c) I just really couldn't be bothered and honestly, how far from the original could it be?

The glop spread all over the baking paper and for a moment I feared that it would spill over the sides. But the hot oven soon worked its magic and it began to look more like a large flat meringue and less like an accident with a glue pot. It rose, it crisped, it caramelized and while it's not perfect, you'd never know the disaster it appeared to be a hour earlier.

Covered in cream and fruit, the base was crisp on the outside and chewy in the smaller than usual middle. And very very sweet. I tend to like my desserts heavy on the chocolate and cream and light on the sugar, hence the lack of the white stuff in the house. (Actually, I was horrified when I realised that I'd served guests a different flourless chocolate cake every single time they'd visited over six months. A part of my brain doesn't even realise that there are desserts other than chocolate pots, chocolate mousse and heavy chocolate ice cream). But tonight wasn't about me.

Also, happy birthday to another Melbourne girl - Claire Robertson at Loobylu was baking her own cake for today and I hope she had better luck than me. Although, as I've discovered, cream and passionfruit can hide a world of cracks.

Lobster treat

2006-03-19T21:38:00.000+11:00

Nigella Lawson has a real thing for cook's treats - the sweet succulent bit that the cook gets to devour greedily in the kitchen on her own. Before pasting a smile on her face, taking a deep breath and clasping the dish in both hands, going out to face the guests with what may or may not be a successful dinner.

Today at the Prahran markets (you see, I may live in the country but you can't keep me away!) I snapped up half a lobster. For five dollars. And I got to wondering, is there such a thing as a marketer's treat? An extra tasty morsel to be devoured in private, perhaps in the car, as a little reward for all those hours of traipsing up and down market aisles, prodding produce and querying vendors? All those bags hauled to the car, red onions spilling out across the seat before the door slams. For the time I put my hand in my shopping bag to grab my purse and inserted it into an overripe tomato? Hmmmmmn .....

For the record, I did share this one with the Figman. This being the operative word.

The Fourth Loaf

2006-03-09T21:36:00.000+11:00

We drove to another country town this afternoon, the Plumbaby and I, for a change of scene and a different park. Not being too interested by all this sporting stuff, I was surprised to find the town blocked off, shut down and all ribboned and streamered up for the Commonwealth Games Baton Relay passing through. This didn't bother us, we went and had a pleasant time in the playground and then, when the heat got too much, wandered up to the main street to see the crowds gathered for the relay. Children, bouncy castles, the works. As we walked along, Plumbaby was looking more and more reluctant to take one more step without a balloon. After all, every child in sight had an orange or green one, why not him? Even some adults were waving bunches of the things.

I spied a supermarket and hustled him in, saying "I'm sure we can buy you a balloon in here". We did find them, and also a suprisingly good array of organic products and unusual breads. I picked up a dark rye and headed for the checkout. However, the salesgirl asked if I'd noticed the loaves on sale - there was a trolley full of bread marked down at half price. She helped me sort through them and I left with a couple of sale loaves for toasting and a different style of darker rye.

The bubs and I kept walking (he was temporarily distracted by the juice I'd opened after a desperate fight with the lid in the midst of an aisle) but eventually he demanded his bounty. We were looking around a busy bakery but I stopped and blew up a giant balloon and tried to tie it around the juice bottle (this was less awkward than it sounds). I struggled for a bit, fended off questions from the staff and then realised I'd pushed the sippy lid to "open" and while I'd been tying the balloon end, half a bottle of orange juice had spilled onto the floor. Of their very busy bakery. It was wiped up with a smile, but I still felt obliged to buy a loaf of sourdough. To add to the three I was already carrying. And with no freezer space at home. The things I do.

Quick Easy Dinner: Chicken Breast With Lentils and Spinach

2006-03-08T20:46:00.000+11:00

This isn't the sort of thing that would usually get a mention here. It's a very quick thrown together dinner, made up of leftovers and bits and pieces in the fridge. But it was simply so good that I need to jot it down here before it disappears onto the backburner in my head.

I had a couple of large Lilydale chicken breasts sitting around which I wanted to use up. (I get edgy when raw chicken's been in the fridge for a few days.) I tossed them into a pan with a splash of olive oil and fried on one side. When I turned the breasts over, I added slices of a Spanish onion and three anchovies in chilli oil. It sizzled and the pan was dangerously empty. I needed to add something to fill the rest of the pan before the oil started burning. One of the remaining containers in the fridge had half a tin of brown lentils from several nights ago. I thought of Nigella's recipe for sausages with lentils and dumped the rest in. A bit of salt and stir. When the dish was almost done, I washed the handfuls of wilting spinach and tossed it in. Two stirs of the spoon and turned off the heat. I came back to it a little later and served it up.

The flavours come together very well, the sweetness of the onion and the earthy robustness of the lentils. Quick. Easy. Delicious. QED

Parsley Dancing: Weekend Herb Blogging

2006-03-05T17:35:00.000+11:00

This is a picture of parsley dancing in the wind. And what it signifies, apart from the fact that our parsley shot to seed, is that I eventually got around to participating in Weekend Herb Blogging, as kindly arranged by Kalyn of Kalyn's Kitchen. Every week I'd see other people's entries and think "I forgot AGAIN! How can I be so disorganised?" And Herb Blogging is really the only one for me, given that I don't have a cat or a dog. I have a small child but I'm not about to start putting up the Plumbaby's picture everywhere. Although I wouldn't mind an event to capture tried and tested recipes for children once a month or so. Should I do it? Or will it be one more event for me (and the rest of the food blogging world) to forget and then feel guilty about?

Anyway, back to the parsley. I grew up with curly parsley, of the Petroselinum crispum variety. The kind which decorates 70s plates as a tasteless garnish. It revolted me and I learned to push it under my plate, before I could be upbraided for ignoring it. It was not until I realised that there was indeed another kind, flat leafed parsley, that I understood that some parsley is edible, although in limited circumstances. I am still not at the point where I could endorse eating it by the handful, such as Nigella suggests in this salad, but I can see its use. Most often, it's in flavouring, not as a full star ingredient, and my favourite is in chicken stock.

For this, I dice a couple of brown onions and 3 or 4 cloves of garlic and throw them into a stockpot sizzling with a splash of olive oil. Then I add five to eight raw chicken carcasses (depends on how many can be crammed into the pot), 3 diced large carrots, a couple of diced leeks and a big handful of parsley. Throw in fresh bay leaves, and a few twigs of thyme and cover with cold water. Bring up to the boil on a low heat and simmer away for two to three hours.

Most recipes will advise skimming the stock scum off the surface during cooking, but to be honest, I can never be bothered. Strain, refridgerate and remove fat if desired. When organised, I reduce the stock down and freeze in ice cube trays for future use. But as I freely admit, I'm not that organised.

Chips and Chocolate: The Classic Combination

2006-03-04T21:13:00.000+11:00

On the edge of seventeen, I finished high school and after a summer of full time drudgery, departed for Europe for a year of work and travel. These days, with the backpacker culture and gap year becoming more popular, this seems almost normal, but back then it was slightly bizarre. Even now I am astounded that my parents allowed it. (Their defence is that they couldn't stop me, but as I point out, there is a big difference between not stopping someone and handing over a plane ticket and a cheque!)

While travelling through the Germanic countries, I became rapidly addicted to Paprika flavoured potato chips. These and Joghurt Milka chocolate. Yes, it is very sad to say, but my first European food experience was more about gelato, chips and chocolate than Michelin starred restaurants. Quelle horreur!

I don't remember eating the chips again in Europe, although a few years ago I had a good scout around for the Joghurt Milka (a yoghurt flavoured filling squashed between two layers of milk chocolate). I was disappointed to find that not only it had disappeared, but so had many of the other local chocolate bars. It might be comforting to some, but I was unimpressed with the offered assortment of M & Ms and Mars Bars! I don't go to Europe to eat chocolate I can have at home!!!

So I was pleased and surprised to find these Dutch paprika chips at an organic store last week. I hadn't seen the things in years but I could barely wait to get home and rip the packet open (I was too afraid of what might happen if I started eating them in the car). I ripped open the packet and inhaled. Yes, it was the same. And then I scooped up a handful and tasted. Stale chips. I tried to persevere but there was no hiding the stale fustiness of a packet which hadn't been completely sealed. Or ripped open in shipping. Or, I don't know, maybe Paprika-Ribb means "Yes paprika chips and also a bit stale" in Dutch.

I was disappointed, but the most outrageous part is that the 100g packet cost ... I can't bring myself to say it, just have a look for yourself ... So revisiting the past may be expensive and also a bit pointless. Remind me not to look up Stefan from #@*&%burg while I'm at it. But in the same week, I was browsing in a deli and came across a good selection of Ritter Sport blocks. As Saffron says, "a chocolate with the word sport in the title is not lost on me". I was only gazing casually when my eyes fell on a Joghurt block. Ten minutes later I was home, curled on the couch with the block and bliss. Some tastes of the past aren't bad at all.

Afterword: This photo was taken on a VERY HOT day. And when I saw the smears on the chocolate from my fingertips touching it for the merest second, I hesitated to continue with the shot. The thought flashed into my mind that I could just lightly wipe it with olive oil to restore that chocolately sheen. Then, sanity returned and I realised that I was about to become one of those obsessive food stylist types and from here it would be one step away from basting raw chickens in browning essence and photographing "dinner". So I gave myself a mental slap in the face, took the shot and sat down and ate the rest. And it was good.

Golden Morning

2006-03-03T11:35:00.000+11:00

Tea over at Tea and Cookies had me giggling away this week at her Diary of a Mad Food Blogger. I'm not even going to start going on about the bits I identified with, because then this post would slide into a long repetitive ramble and you'd leave thinking "didn't I just read that? Although Tea said it better?".

So go read for yourself if you haven't already (the entire food blogging world seems to have dropped by), but for now here is one tidbit from Day 13:

What would people say if they knew I eat the same thing for breakfast each and every day: steel-cut oats and a banana, raisins, walnuts, a splash of milk. Am I too boring to be a food blogger?

This made me consider my own breakfast and how often I eat the same thing. Not that often, as it turns out. After I got over my addiction to tomato and cottage cheese sandwiches as a teen, I've flipped from here to there, eating come what may. This week for instance, I've had shank stew for brekfast on one occasion and this morning it was chocolate. Ah hem. But here's one I prepared earlier this week - a gorgeously ripe peach, biodynamic yoghurt and a healthy sprinkling of toasted muesli. Perfectly scrumptious in the early morning light. Worthy of a food blogger? Absolutely. But then again, so is half a can of Heinz tinned spaghetti on white bread (my favourite hangover cure). To each her own!

Twice cooked lamb shanks

2006-03-01T18:25:00.000+11:00

Now don't get all excited, thinking that this is tale of some fancy-schmancy lamb shanks, cooked slow and deep fried restaurant style or something. I am still in the process of restocking the pantry (I have a walk in pantry in this new house! Exciting!) but occasionallly I get taken by surprise. I let a lot of bottled staples run low in the old place as I could not be bothered dragging up one more jar than was absolutely necessary. And while I compose mental lists of "get more soy" and
"we're out of sesame oil" I completely forget others until I open the fridge, mid-dressing-mixing and find that we have Not One Jar Of Mustard in the place. There were about seven previously, so you can understand why I might find this perplexing.

And even something as common as the tinned tomato is in short supply. I (foolishly) bought up a big bag of half-price lamb shanks from Hagens Organic Butcher on Saturday and late one night decided that I absolutely postively had to get them started. I threw them in a pot with garlic and tomatos and ras al hanout and cooked them until I was desperate to go to bed (this is not exactly quantifiable but it was nowhere near long enough for the slow tenderising required). I drained the shanks and popped them in the fridge but could not face putting the broth in as well. I simply covered the pot with foil and decided that if I boiled it up first thing in the morning it would be fine to receive the shanks back again for their second simmer. I promptly forgot all about the shanks for another 24 hours. At this point I was not keen to reuse the shank broth, given the amount of time which had passed.

So I ditched the tomato shank soup and started again. I cut up half a head of garlic and chucked it in the pan. Some more ras al hanout and the shanks followed. But this was the point where the gaps in my store cupboard became obvious. There were no more tomatoes, not even some sugo. So I topped up with water and hoped for the best. After an hour or so I put in some brown rice and salt and waited for it to cook. I had planned to add brown lentils, but it needed something green so I tipped in that most stapley of staples, frozen peas.

It didn't have promising beginnings but this evolved into something tasty and substantial, particularly with a generous dollop of plain yoghurt. Figman has practically fallen in love with it. He ate it for dinner last night and at least twice more today. I've had my share so I might even concede the last leftovers in the fridge to him. As long as he doesn't want them with mustard.

Birds Nest

2006-02-20T16:54:00.000+11:00

Well here we are and it has been a week of spiders, flavoured vodka and a lot of takeaway. And often the kind of takeaway that makes me wish I had just cooked in the first place - when the food arrives an hour later and the so-called Vietnamese is asianish at best and covered in a sickly sweet sloppy sauce, I start to remember Jamie Oliver showing how he could make and cook a pizza faster than one was delivered. But a new town requires checking out the local restaurants and so far it's been a decidedly mixed bag. There's been some middling pizza and a handful of other so so dinners. Every now and then, it would be *interesting* enough to make me cook nonstop for a few days but boxes don't unpack themselves and when you can't find your frying pan, a quick drive into town seems easier than emptying six unlabelled boxes to locate it.

But amongst all the dross there have been a few good finds. A delicatessen with an amazing range and some imported products I haven't seen anywhere else. My favourite Persian feta at a really good price. Interesting variety in the local supermarkets. And the best kebab I have ever eaten. A heap of seasoned garlicky meat, garnished with salads and wrapped in a soft piece of Turkish bread. I'm not ashamed to say that I've been back already. Partly to check that my appreciation wasn't just moving-exhaustion-and-mild-hysteria-induced and partly because I just couldn't stay away.

And I also scooped up a selection of their pastries. I've never been a fan of baklava and all those honeyed filo type desserts. To be fair, I'd only been offered baklava until recently and it just isn't my thing. But a visiting friend brought a selection gathered from the Greek Precinct in Lonsdale Street and as Melbourne is a city with the third largest Greek population in the world I figured they had to be good. And they really really were. I was suprised at the variety, at how many which appeared similiar would be flavoured with different nuts or slightly different spices and how much I really enjoyed them. So I asked for one of each at the kebab store and while they're all tasty, my favourite is the birds nest pictured to the left. And as soon as I finish the last of the boxes, I look forward to getting better acquainted.

Hello Old Friends

2006-02-18T23:58:00.000+11:00

Well we have arrived, us and about fifty thousand boxes, half of which are numbered and labelled carefully and half of which were, um, thrown together wildly. Not that the careful numbering helped all that much, since I have misplaced the list which describes the contents corresponding to those numbers. Oh well, I'll just open another box and get on with it.

My cookbooks have been happily reunited and now have an entire bookcase to themselves. You see, in the old house, bookcase space was at a premium and as I acquired more and more cookbooks, they ended up under the bed, next to the bed. And in the end, in storage. As did heaps of appliances and unecessaries - you know, platters, ice cream makers, colanders. I didn't fuss as I thought they'd be there for a few weeks but it wound up being closer to half a year. And now as I unpack, I find all sorts of things I haven't seen for months, including my much missed kitchen scales. No more holding a can in one hand and a dish of flour in the other!

It's lovely to find these things but I also wonder how much I need all of them. There have already been eyebrows raised as I unwrap certain items and think "Why didn't I give this to charity ages ago? Why on earth did I wrap it and store it and then drag it all the way up here?" Absence makes the heart grow contemptuous ... hehehe

So a couple of them will get carefully repacked and given away. But I've still got 10 boxes to go. And my ice cream maker must surely be in one of them!!

moving

2006-02-11T13:14:00.000+11:00

I take a break from packing boxes (and peeking out behind them at Iron Chef) to advise that we are in the midst of moving (to the country no less!) so posts will be a bit sporadic from now on (I can't use that word without thinking of Clueless.)

There have already been long and irritating discussions with the phone company and short of sending out a technician (and charging over $200 for that privilege) it seems doubtful that they can figure out what the phone number should be, let alone connecting to the internet. So I may be a while.

But the packing process is fruitful. As I fill box after box with books, I discover many lost or long-ignored treasures. I stand there dreamily thinking "Oh, it's been so long since I cooked that!" and "I must get around to making this", forgetting that time is going by and I have already vastly underestimated the number of boxes needed to pack our book collection. You see, I calculated based on the few boxes I'd already packed of paperback novels and the like. This fell to pieces when I started packing the cookbooks, which are often 3 or 4 times the size of a standard paperback. I have been back to buy more boxes twice already and heaven help me if we run out tomorrow because the shop will be shut. Ahem.

I am a thorough packer, which can drive people wild because I will stop and sort through a bag of receipts before putting it into a box. This leaves me days behind schedule and a few hours before the truck arrives I am wildly throwing things into boxes labelled "Deal With Later". I intend to be more organised this time and therefore the wild throwing will take place tonight instead.

Meeting Monsieur Truffe!

2006-02-06T20:50:00.000+11:00

You didn't actually believe what I said about chocolate, did you? Actually, it was true - even the Godiva was heat affected and just didn't taste right. So why bother hey? Well, on a tipsy turvy weekend, I wound up gallivanting through raspberry farms on Saturday and so Sunday became marketing day. Not up to facing the hordes at the Vic, I went to the decidedly empty Prahran Markets. They have been trying to enourage Sunday trading at this venue, but it really hasn't caught on. Hardly any vendors open, although there are enough of each to make it worthwhile if, like me, your cupboards are bare (or just full of heat-affected chocolate!).

Anyhow, I was troopsing through and doing some minor celebrity spotting, when I caughy sight of someone far more interesting, Monsieur Truffe. I've come across this gent, selling his chocolately wares, before, but never stopped for more than a glance. This time I did. And I fell, fell, fell.

Here I think that tasting is key. Monsieur Truffe had several varieties on display, with more in the chiller at his side. About five were cut for tasting and away I went. The classic ganache was pleasant but it was the mountain pepper which wooed me. Reminiscent of Dolfin's pink peppercorn variety but much much better. Small shards of native Tasmanian mountain pepperberry and not whole peppercorns, which were, let's face it, a bit much in the Dolfin bar. A crisp finish to the square truffle and then a dusting of cocoa. Exquisite. Superb, in fact.

I mosied through the others but nothing touched me the same way. Some purveryors get edgy when you sample away but Monsieur Truffe seemed delighted, his enthuiasm for his chocolates spilling over. I selected a package of my favourite and he was genuinely apologetic that he only had them in the 12 truffle packet. Trust me, there was nothing to apologise for, they didn't even last 3 days in this house. While he was putting the chocolates into a paper bag, he encouraged me, to try the passionfruit truffle, the only one I'd left untasted and mainly because I was dubious about the mixing of passionfruit with dark chocolate. Conventional dessert thinking had me believing that white chocolate was the only appropriate pairing for this summer fruit. "Oh no" exclaimed Monsiuer Truffe (and I believe by his accent that it was he) "I have used a milk chocolate here and you will see that the taste lingers incredibly in your mouth". I took a bite and swooned. Oh. My. Goodness. It was the sheer essence of passionfruit and such chocolately chocolately heaven. It was, the kind of chocolate that made me want to lie down and beg for more.

Unfortunately, modesty forbade me. That, and the fact that we had just discussed that I could limit myself to one a day and I had just bought a 12 pack. It seemed, well, a little piggy to demand every passionfruit truffle in sight. But I note from the cute packet that he also has a shop at 101 Toorak Road, South Yarra, so maybe I'll pop in there after a respectable amount of time has passed. I cannot see my will to diet lasting long in the face of these incredibly gorgeous morsels. But, while browsing books online, I found one called Breaking the Food Seduction. And I ponder, do I really want to do that??

Detox: The aftermath

2006-02-04T12:34:00.000+11:00

Well February is here and how exactly did I go in Jan? I managed to stick to the detox (until it was broken in spectacular fashion at the end of the month). Yes, true to my predictions, it was socialising which did it for me. Several guests were visiting Melbourne for the first time and really, when showing someone around your beloved city, are you going to take them home and make them eat steamed greens with you? Or are you going to take them out for some damn fine food and suffer the consequences?

Yes, well, you surmise correctly. A couple of restaurant visits, a few gorgeous home cooked meals and detox went right out the window. And even after they'd left, I continued to dabble on the dark side - an ice cream here and nibble of chocolate there. But, and here is the weird thing, it just didn't taste right anymore. Maybe the joys of Trampoline's Hazelnut gelato had ruined Conneisseur for me and I do suspect that the hot days wrecked the chocolate I'd left in the cupboards, it seems to have fat bloom or sugar bloom or something. But they don't deliver their old kick and I feel unsatisfied and yet still bloated afterwards. Blah.

On the upside, my clothing seems to have shifted down a size and while welcome, is not really enough. When pregnant with the Plumbaby, I holed up on the couch with 10 (yes you read correctly) 10 kilos of Valrhona (they were about to stop selling it here in 5 k bags and they were the last two in the shop, I had to buy them okay??) and some of that indulgence is still distinctly evident. So I think I will continue on some kind of modified eating plan for the near future. But, I still find this all rather tedious. I like food. and I like cooking it, buying it, seeking out new forms and buying ridiculous numbers of cookbooks. There are seven food memoirs next to my bed, four magazines and twenty-one cookbooks. I was in a bookshop yesterday and picked up Diana Henry's Roast Figs, Sugar Snow: Food To Warm The Soul. It amazed me, every picture, every dish, was of such heart-warming, life-affirming food. I bit my lip and fought back the tears (this reaction honestly stunned me, I do not like to cry in public and certainly not in Dymocks!). I looked at the pictures and thought this is how to eat, this is what life is about. And yet.

The answer, Figman would say, is exercise more. But I'm just not that motivated. My (soon to be ex) personal trainer says that I am the third least enthusiastic person he has ever worked with! This is not a compliment. It is symbolic of my stubborn will and my relunctance to force something I detest on me, for my greater good.

Because, at heart, I am happy in my own skin. I am comfortable being me. And I don't feel motivated at all to change me for anyone else's approval. But the health issues are pertinent and I am going to have to push on until I've finished making babies and can just slide into middle age disgracefully and let myself go entirely. Ahem. Anyway, I think that the solution for me is to buy a cross-trainer (I didn't mind these at the gym and at least I can read while on one) and commit to a daily session. And I'm going to buy Roast Figs, Sugar Snow as soon as I can.

Wasabi Peas or Let Me Blow Your Mind

2006-01-30T22:18:00.000+11:00

this is a really rubbish photo but there's something about wasabi peas that makes the macro function on my camera BLOW ITS MIND. Seriously. This is the best of a crap bunch.

Wasabi peas are such a delightful crunchy snack that it's a pity the picture doesn't do them justice. I was introduced to them a couple of years ago in a Hip Bar in Balaclava. You know, the kind of place that's full of concrete and dim lighting and doesn't have a name outside because all the truly Hip people can find it anyway?? I don't spend much time in Hip Bars these days, so when I do, I have to Shout It From The Rooftops (I was in a Hip Bar, did you hear?). Anyway, enough rambling from a demented housewife.

The wasabi pea handful has to be measured carefully. Get it right and you have an addictively good pre-dinner nibble. Pick up the wrong two peas in a pod however, and feel the wasabi blast through the space behind your eyesockets! I mutter obscenities, chew frantically and swallow. And reach for another handful. Hmmmn, not too bright am I?

But when they're good, they're soooo good. And available at most Asian groceries and sushi stores.

Staying Sane: Raspberry Smoothie

2006-01-24T22:48:00.000+11:00

There are few things that keep me sane during detox. The foods permitted on this one are ultra restricted and so utterly boring that it is hard to believe it's ME sticking to it. Well, mostly.

It's all raw/steamed vegies and a limited amount of fruit. Lean protein three times a day. Eggs, eggs and more eggs, especially the omega enriched kind. But no oil apart from flaxseed, no sugar whatsoever and no carbs apart from those found naturally in fruit and vegetables. I am enjoying the pure taste of simple foods again (for me that is, I cooked duck and ginger lemongrass noodles for the rest of the family last night!) but there isn't much zing in my diet at present.

Except for this: raspberry smoothie. I was introduced to the protein smoothie by this very detox a couple of years ago, and after I reduced the cranberry juice (unsweetened) to about a tenth and upped the frozen berries, it went from a watery shake to a creamy pink smoothie.

It's hard to give precise measurements here because I find that each time it changes and I add the berries bit by bit until it's the consistency I'm after. But basically, it's a splash of unsweetened cranberry juice and a tablespoon of flaxseed oil into the blender. I then start the blender and add about a cup of frozen raspberries. Once these have been mushed, I add 2 to 3 tablespoons of vanilla protein powder (or unflavoured when available). This goes in last as I find if it's added too soon, it fluffs up and the mixture becomes more like meringue and less like a smoothie. Once blended, I stop the motor and have a look at the consistency. It might need a little more cranberry or a few more berries yet.

When I'm feeling very indulgent, I add another half cup of berries and reduce the cranberries so that I can close my eyes and pretend that I'm eating raspberry ice cream! And actually, it's not half bad. And you'd never believe it was good for you!!

Day 17 Detox

2006-01-20T09:08:00.000+11:00

It's not as bad as it sounds. This may be because I haven't been as good as I should. You know, a handful of raisins here, bite of bread there. Not to mention a spoonful of Cunliffe Waters Spicy Blood Plum Sauce! Oddly enough, the cravings I have had have been for wholegrain foods - a loaf of brown bread on top of the fridge, the Weetbix I prepare for Plumbaby's breakfast every morning.

And the chocolate thing? I am surprised that I haven't missed it more, ached for it, demanded it, thrown a Full-On-Hissy-Fit and given in to it. But I think that's part of the detox; once you get these beautiful gorgeous chocolately bits out of your system on a daily basis, you stop to crave them so intensely. I must emphasise that this is a temporary situation and I in no way recommend or espouse denying yourself chocolate on a long term basis.

I don't think I've eaten as many raw green leafy vegetables as I should have and will wander down to the markets this morning before it gets abominably hot. A basketful of summer fruit and vegetables should see me right for the next few days. Days of 30 + and 40+ degrees Celsius weather. When I turned on the cold tap this morning to wash out the Plumbaby's cup, the water ran warm on my hand. At eight o'clock in the morning!! Fortunately, the one good effect of this is that it firmly quells any desire for thick, stodgy comfort food - stews, mashed potato, anything like that. It'll be salad, salad all the way for the next week.

With no chocolate. Seriously.

Peking Duck Salad

2006-01-16T22:22:00.000+11:00

Do you know when something seems SO obvious that you cannot believe you didn't realise it in the first place? Take tonight - I had some duck breasts and was looking to throw them into a quick salad before Figman expired from hunger. I tossed them into a hot pan and cooked for 6 minutes on the skin side. I then removed the duck fat from the pan (knew I should have bought that silicon baster) and put the breasts back in, on the other side, to cook for about 4 minutes. This is longer than the guidelines given in Stephanie Alexander's Cook's Companion, but I like my duck cooked. I left the breasts to sit in the pan while I got the salad ready.

A bowl full of mixed mesculun. Some olive oil and white wine vinegar. I ferried around in the veggie drawer for something solid and came up with a cucumber. This was peeled and julienned, in pieces about the length of a matchstick. My usual sauce had run out but I thought "Oh I'll just use the lovely Cunliffe Waters Spicy Blood Plum Sauce". As I continued slicing the duck into lovely thick chunks, my eyes wandered across the strips of pale cucumber and I thought "Oh my goodness, it's Peking Duck salad! How could I miss it??".

Okay, it's not stricly authentic. And I'd like to work on it a little when I am not restricted with my dietary intake. But for me, the changes are obvious: five spice powder on the duck as it sizzles; something crunchy - maybe diced bread fried in the duck fat; and the harsh bite of onion. Spring onion would be usual, but I'd like to try spanish onion for the texture and colour against the greens. Anyway, here it is for now, in all its imperfections.

Cookin' Chilli Crab!!

2006-01-15T22:08:00.000+11:00

Rolling in exhausted after a day out watching country cricket, the absolute last thing I wanted to do was cook crabs. Grab some takeaway for the boys and a piece of fruit for me and that would be about it. I've only come to cooking crab in the last year or so and my seafood confidence is not exactly, well, booming out of me. I've bought crabs four or so times in the last year, at $5 a tray when the fishmongers are clearing out stock at the markets before closing time on Saturday. Today is Sunday, and that means it's time to roll up the sleeves and get cracking, literally.

For me, the only way to truly enjoy crab is to cook it chilli-style. This is a dish I've eaten in family homes, but when I've tried to replicate it, the results have been disappointing. I've consulted a handful of cookbooks but nothing's satisfied me. Mostly because the recipes have involved black beans, which to my palate, overpowers the chilli sauce. Eventually, after much frustration, I just gave up and cooked it MY WAY.

Now bear in mind that this recipe is for an overcautious type who would rather feed her guests mushy crab than give them food poisoning. Despite the crabs smelling fresh, I cooked them for a good 3 or 4 minutes more than I usually would, simply because they were a day old. This difference can be crucial - but next time maybe I'll be more daring. Or get around to cooking crabs on the day I buy them!

4 crabs, uncooked, cleaned
7 cloves of garlic, peeled and diced
About the same amount of ginger, also peeled and diced
1/4 jar Christine Manfield Chilli Jam (75g)
Coriander, chopped
Soy sauce
Salt

I always give the crabs a bit of a further clean, because as seen above, I am picky. I heat a large pan (wok would be great here), add a little oil and then 2 of the crabs. Cook on medium heat for 3 minutes then turn and cook on the other side for another 3 minutes. Remove crabs from pan and add the garlic, ginger and chilli jam. The pan may get a bit sticky, so throw in a little soy sauce or water. Add remaining two crabs and cook as above. Then add about half a cup of water to the pan and return the other crabs to it as well. Cover and cook for 4 minutes or until crabs are done.

Ah ha! See, I got out of it there! It might be that the crabs are done after one minute, but it's up to you, isn't it? No responsiblity taken here!! I might be a clumsy cook, but I am also a cautious cook (when it comes to seafood anyway!) Garnish with coriander and sprinkle with salt.

The last times we've eaten blue swimmer crabs, which are smaller and more delicate. These were hefty and orange, maybe sand crabs? The claws, which hold that tender sweet meat, were too hard for me to break open. Figman used his teeth, but after my dentist's warning I wasn't risking mine. I think I might have to invest in some cheap crab crackers. After all, there's nothing more frustrating than seeing that succulent meat and not being able to get at it. Unless it's coming home late in the afternoon and finding day old crab in the fridge ...

My New Chicken Frying Skills

2006-01-13T13:30:00.000+11:00

Now don't get all excited - this isn't real fried chicken, you know, the sort coated in batter and seasoning and deep deep fried. But it's still pretty good - thighs with the skin on cooked in a hot pan with just a little garlic thrown in towards the end.

I was flicking through a "Chefs' Secrets" book the other day, which featured different hints and "secrets" from about 100 chefs. It sounds ideal but most of the tips I'd already picked up along the way. Although there were one or two I considered buying the book for before deciding it clearly wasn't worth it. But this was one such tip.

Previously, when frying chicken, I'd throw the oil in the pan at the same time I turned the heat on and when the oil was hot enough, in would go the chicken pieces. However, this chef advised to heat the empty pan (though not Teflon, never never Teflon!) and once it was hot to add the oil. The scientific reasoning behind this is that apparently the metal in the pan expands to fill any microscopic gaps and then when the oil is added, the food just glides on over.

I've tried this with chicken skin off and on, fish, meat and all sorts of things and it does work a treat. I cook with a 32cm stainless steel saute pan and hardly anything sticks if I do it properly. I had a couple of these boneless thighs for lunch today with the remainder of the salad. Skin side first for 3 to 4 minutes, flip onto the other side for another 4 minutes. A handful of roughly chopped garlic's thrown in 2 minutes before cooking's over. I find that adding garlic at this point means it gets golden brown without burning.

And I know I am doing detox, I pulled the skin off, okay? But I do love the flavour it adds to the juicy chicken. It's worth the extra calories (don't tell me what the First Lady of Nutrition says about animal fat and how terrible it is, I buy good chicken and it can't be that bad!). The remainder was supposed to be for Figman's post cricket match snack. But a small child who looked disdainfully at his own dinner, ate four pieces of chicken, standing up in front of the tv. When Figs gets home from the match I'll simply tell him - like father, like son.

AH HA!! (or chickpea and avocado salad)

2006-01-12T22:28:00.000+11:00

I was peering into the fridge this afternoon as I threw together lunch in a kind of desultory way. And it was desultory. Finding soggy tomatoes and broccoli that had seen better. There was little left in the way of protein unless I went the tinned tuna (again) and I wasn't in the most hopeful of moods. And then I found an organic avocado that I had bought at immense expense and promptly thrown into the fridge and forgotten. A couple of the tomatoes proved salvagable. And I was suddenly taken by a craving for chickpeas, quite possibly because they were the only canned pulses on the shelf (oh people who think I spend all my time cooking fresh from scratch, laugh, laugh away!).

I threw the three together, drizzled some olive oil and a little vegetable salt and let me tell you, it tasted amazing! And this took me completely off guard. Because I expected it to be a "thrown-together-out-of-tins-and-overripe-produce" kind of lunch and instead it was one of the best salads I've ever eaten! It still lacked a little zest and I found my one remaining onion and diced about a quarter of it and threw it in. So simple and yet totally on the mark.

The "AH HA!!" in the title actually refers to the fact that a photo appears and not to the fabulousness of the recipe. Thanks to kind Christmas gifts, I finally went and bought a camera of my/our own. So let the photos recommence! And I was surprised at the lengths that Rachael went to when plating up for the camera, but do you know what I found myself doing? Since avocado makes such a mess, I tipped the salad into a clean bowl for the pic. Which was kind of ridiculous because my favourite photo didn't even show the bowl! But here's one, just so you can see how clean it was.
And so, now hopefully no more incidents over getting my film processed!

Something New

2006-01-09T21:15:00.000+11:00

I don't mind branching out every now and then but I tend to stick to the tried and true. Particularly when it comes to suppliers. I shop at the Prahran Markets a couple of times a week and after several years of buying here there and everywhere, I think I've got my sources sussed. And there I tend to stick. Like glue.

Take Christmas. My mother accompanied me to purchase some seafood for the festive feast and was making eyes at the middle fishmonger. "No, no, no" I said and shoved her in the right direction. "This is the best place to buy prawns." And they were pretty good. I have a long history with this place and by now I don't even glance at the other fishstalls in the markets. But on Saturday, stocks were a bit low and nothing grabbed my attention at my regular vendor. Unlike the boisterous fishmonger shouting out "$10 a bag, 2 for fifteen". I turned my head and he pounced. "Rainbow trout, 2 for $5!". Now I haven't bought fish from these people in ages, but the trout were so plump and glistening, shiny with freshness, I could not say no.

Now I had 2 rainbow trout and I have to confess, cooking fish is not my thing. In a house where I like to prance around in what I claim is my kitchen, the Figman reigns supreme when it comes to seafood. I don't have much confidence in my ability to judge when each side is done, though under Figgy's tutelage, I'm coming along. I decided to cook the trout simply, just as they were with a bit of olive oil (trust me, my heart was singing out for butter and almonds, but this IS detox month after all). "Five minutes a side" said Figman and went back to his computer game. A little later he called to me "don't have that flame up too high" and I adjusted it accordingly. (This, by the way, is the only time I can be considered meek in the kitchen). And the fish was, amazingly, perfectly cooked. Succulent, fresh, and reminding me why I like fish so much. A simple salad of rocket and avocado and lunch was done.

So, this year I'm going to try to get out of my piscatorial rut. And shop around a bit more for fish. Becase who knows what I've been missing?

Day Three Detox and a Two Pear Dressing

2006-01-06T21:00:00.000+11:00

Okay, it's been three days without chocolate and I haven't smashed anything. I have cheated (a little) but it's been low-fat icecream, a mouthful of soft drink, that kind of thing. But apart from this, I feel somewhat brighter and fresher, or is this just the Smug Delusion of a Dieting Dilettante?

And you know, entertaining still has to go on. Today there was an evening picnic and I had been asked to bring a salad. November's Gourmet Traveller featured a recipe in the request section "Fare Exchange" that I had been wanting to try and this seemed the perfect opportunity.

I have made heaps of pear and rocket salads, but this one featured an unusual pear dressing, which involved peeling and chopping four pears and simmering them with 200g of caster sugar and 250 ml of white wine vinegar. Oh and a star anise and cinnamon quill. It was supposed to also contain a cardamon pod but as you know, I Do Not Like Cardamon. Oh, and some ginger peeled and grated. This simmers along and makes the house reek, like vinegar boiled vinegar I suppose, until it settles down to a glaze-like consistency.

At this point, the liquid is drained off and the pear chunks and aromatics dumped separately for later use (with more sugar to caramelize, this would be fantastic with ice cream or custard). The rest of the salad is a standard construction - rocket, olive oil, parmesan, pepper, sliced pear and so on. It is a very subtle yet sweet salad and I'd like to work it up a bit - something with crunch (pinenuts) or something with bite (just a tiny hint of chilli) would be great.

But there you go. And I didn't even eat any of the birthday cake. Which I had to go out and buy. And was made of chocolate. Enough said.

Blah ... It's Detox Time

2006-01-04T21:18:00.000+11:00

You remember that opening scene in Trainspotting when ewan Mcgregor is nailing himself into a room to kick the habit? Well, that's kinda how I feel right now.

Yes, you read right, today was the first day of Operation Detox around here. Technically it should have started on Sunday, but there were other distractions and when I eventually rolled out to the shops, the selection was pretty minimal and hey, if you're going to do it, you should do it right?? (Oh the justifications!). I suppose that the turn of the year is a time for many to reflect on their goals and waistlines and it's no different for me. Or rather, I have been doing so for months now but haven't gotten around to actually doing something about it. And I could always think "Oh in January I'll do a detox month". But now January is here and I have no choice but to get healthy.

I'm generally following a detox designed by Ann Louise Gittelman. She's an interesting author and I've learned a lot about nutrition from her, but who goes around calling themselves "The First Lady of Nutrition"?? I mean, honestly. I've been down this path several years ago and I remember that I had very good results. I had tried to block out the memories of the sheer sensory deprivation (no dairy! no soy! no vinegar!) but until today I didn't realise how hard it would be to have NO CHOCOLATE.

That's right, not one piece of chocolate has touched these lips today. Oh, I have stared at the block of Lindt in a vase in the lounge room (yes I know I have very weird storage). And at a very low ebb this afternoon, I came into the kitchen, grabbed a container of Callebaut and just inhaled. Long deep breaths until I knew I could put it down.

And this all goes against my nature so much because I am into indulgence. Particularly of the culinary kind. But unless you are lucky, an obsessive interest in food and eating and cookbooks and food shopping and reading food blogs leads down a particular path. The Half-my-clothes-are-under-my-bed-because-I-haven't-worn-them-since-last-Easter path. And apart from sheer vanity, there are health considerations to finally kick me into gear and co-host this month of torture.

So, for the next 27 days or so, it'll be more like the healthy picture above and less like this

But don't go thinking that I am a lady of virtue or something. I have decided to give myself a break once a week, to be saved for social occasions. The severe restrictions brought friends to the verge of breakdown last time. And I won't describe the pained expression on Figman's face when we ate out in a Thai restaurant and I carefully listed to the waiter what I could and could not eat. He ended up bringing out the chef who cried "But that's not Thai!". Enough embarrassment. And I've already cheated today. Okay, half a cup of couscous doesn't fall into the same category as a block of chocolate but everything in my body is screaming "We want more sugar! We want more fat! Where the fuck is the salt?". So, if you have any tips on how to quell the discord, please let me know.

Only 27 days to chocolate ....

Boxing Day Sandwiches

2006-01-01T11:19:00.000+11:00

I've discovered that what I love best about Christmas food is the leftovers. Not to discount the amazing dishes I had at various tables on Christmas Day, which apart from the traditional, included Morroccan lamb cutlets, Swedish seafood platters and Thai curry.

But the nicest of all was waking up on Boxing Day with a fridge full of food, knowing that the nearest thing to cooking would be spooning some cranberry relish onto white bread (I know I don't usually eat it, but this is a must) and slapping a couple of thick slices of turkey breast down. Maybe some ham, mustard and lettuce later. Bliss.

The weather in Melbourne at the moment is simply unspeakable. Niki and Cin, enjoy your snow and frost!! Yesterday, the temp went up almost 20C in the space of 2 hours. Yes 2 hours. And a bar of Lindt chocolate I'd left open on a counter began to melt of its own accord.

But tomorrow brings cooler weather and perhaps I'll start to think about cooking. Seomthing besides a sandwich and a Splice.

Christmas Eve

2005-12-24T23:08:00.000+11:00

Earlier this evening, Figman asked me to stop eating so many of what he calls "those stupid candy canes". Refusing to be chastened, I said "If I can't eat candy canes on Christmas Eve, when can I?"

The candy canes had been obtained after much stress, to make Peppermint Bark - an ambition long held after reading Heidi Swanson's post about it back in December 2003.

It is now after 11pm and I am beginning to doubt the wisdom of starting yet another of my insane holiday cooking projects at 9.30pm on Christmas Eve. What on earth possesses me? I should be listening to carols or meeting with friends or at the very least (and best perhaps) tucked up cosily in bed. Instead, I am waiting for the second layer of chocolate to harden so that I can slice up the Peppermint Bark (which is more botched than bark at this point).

Merry Christmas everyone!

All Excited about Cutlery!

2005-12-23T12:30:00.000+11:00

Not the Christmas season, not 24 hours of non-stop eating and drinking, but my new cutlery. The sort of things that excite me. Ahem. After an early morning excursion the other day, Plumbaby and I were wandering around in South Melbourne with not much to do. We'd had a peek at the South Melbourne Markets and shared a smoothie. I was going over my Christmas list in my head and all thoughts soon turned to cutlery.

You see, I don't know about you, but Figman and I have a motley collection of spoons and forks. Odds and ends collected from when we moved in together years ago. The odd family heirloom and items nicked from work. The only ones which now match are the remants of a 24 piece set I bought from Target and I can't even scrape together a matching set of four if we have people over for dinner. As guests are sitting down, I am opening the dishwasher and hastily rinsing forks with egg batter stuck to them. But we struggle through and really, it's not that big a deal.

Until I realise that six people are coming for breakfast on Christmas Day. And at last count, I had four table knives. And maybe five forks. Unless I tell someone to eat with their fingers, it was definitely time to get some new cutlery. I've been keeping an eye on the sales of big sets but there's nothing I've fancied. Some of the Villeroy & Boch cutlery is beautiful but it's obscenely expensive and really, does this kind of thing belong in the hands of someone who loses a teaspoon a month? I think not.

I'd been wanting to check out Chef's Hat on Cecil Street for a while, and so I stuck my head in the door on the elusive cutlery search. They had some Stanley Rogers sets and a few others but it wasn't what I wanted. I loathe soup spoons so why should I pay for six of those? And a set of entree knives?? What planet do these people entertain on? But at the back of the store I had a revelation - boxes and boxes of loose cutlery - a couple of dollars by the piece and even cheaper by the dozen. I chose the sturdy and utilitarian Luxor range and then had fun putting together my own selection. A dozen table knives, spoons and forks. 12 tea spoons (soda and coffee also available). 4 matching serving spoons and 2 salad spoons for $3.50 apiece. These usually cost $20 for a pair, so it's an offical BARGAIN. And the boxed dozens cost me from $8.15 for the teaspoons to $21.55 for the knife. All up, my chosen settings for 12 cost just over 60 bucks.

So I'm happy, SO VERY HAPPY!! Now I just have to wash them and put them away. And come Christmas Day, I won't be fishing around under the vegetable peelings for that last knife, because I'll still have another ten!!

Cacao Nibs

2005-12-20T20:15:00.000+11:00

I am a Chocolate Geek. There are no other words for it.

While doing some of my Christmas shopping online, I was browsing the Peter's of Kensington site. This is a great place to get kitchenware, but I was poking around in their general brand list when I came across the Dagoba listing. I've seen Dagoba chocolate bars in my local organic shops and they've gotten some good press recently but I've never really been tempted. Until now. You see, I've always had a hankering to get my hands on some cacao nibs and David Lebovitz says to try these. So really, it's all just serendiptious and out of my hands.

$15 for 170g seems a little outrageous, but hey, this is a culinary experiment, right? I finished my shopping and added in a bag of nibs. Giftwrapped (to me). I love being able to open a little parcel, covered in gold paper and wrapped in ribbon. Particularly as I am just about to embark on our annual Christmas extravaganza. Like many women, I feel that this falls to me, due to the fact that Figman pretends to have the wrapping skills of a five year old. Without opposable thumbs. I think that this must be a charade, in order to spend more time in front of the Test Match, because I refuse to believe that a man who can assemble a barbeque cannot use sticky tape. Anyhow.

I came home from a minor grocery expedition in 32C heat to find a pile of parcels at the front door. A Christmas present from overseas, a giant box containing the Plumbaby's loot and a small Peter's box addressed to me. I opened the box (and tried to crush my guilt at all the packing and insulation for this one tiny package). I slowly unwrapped it and then stopped. Quick! To Bittersweet. Alice Medrich has a section on cacao nibs here and I simply must read her words before I open this long awaited (well two days really) packet.

I scan the pages impatiently but I do learn a couple of key things. Don't expect this to have the sweetness of processed chocolate. Taste the essence of chocolate. Think of the first time you took expresso. I pause, I ponder, I rip the packet open. One small pinch and UGH! How bitter!

I immediately shove a handful of Callebaut into my mouth to get rid of the taste, shuddering as I go. What the hell am I going to do with 167g of this? But an hour or so later sees me back at the counter turning the packet over again. One small pinch and ah ha! I taste it, I get it. It's not in the slightest bit sweet and lacks the rich indulgence of processed chocolate, but this really is chocolate. Alice Medrich has a range of recipes and if I can find my ice cream maker, I'd like to make the Double Cocoa Nib Ice Cream, but I'm really keen to experiment with the more savoury dishes.

The side of the packet reads as follows:

These nibs are sourced from a group of small-scale farmers located in southern Ecuador. Together with DAGOBA, these farmers are working to bring back the rare heirloom varietal known as Arriba Nacional. These nibs offer flavors of tangerine and red berry with a dark chocolate finish. A slight lavender floral bouquet gives sign to the Arriba Nacional bean.

It's not as sweet or immediately satisfying as a chocolate bar, but with time, I think it could be more suprising and sophisticated. We'll have to wait and see! Now where did I put that ice cream maker?

Smoked Trout and Cherries

2005-12-17T20:09:00.000+11:00

Today was the first Saturday in ages I've been free to wander round one of the local farmers' markets. So notquitesobrightandearly, the Figster, Plumbaby and I headed off to the oval on Auburn Road, for the Boroondara market. This one is held on the third Saturday of every month and while it isn't nearly as picturesque as the one at the Collingwood Children's Farm, most of the same vendors attend and it is a great deal more convenient for me on this side of the river.

I've been going to these markets since they started up in Melbourne and it's always good to bump into the regulars - the garlic guy (one plait of garlic and 3 punnets of strawberries), the green guy (one huge bunch of watercress and 2 salad plants). Also interesting to see the new stalls cropping up and it's plain to see what's in season. There was rhubarb, rhubarb and more rhubarb to be seen. Also heaps of strawberries and apricots. And the cherries, did I mention the cherries?

When I was growing up, cherries were a once a year occasional treat. Hideously expensive and pretty much one variety fits all. But now, at one stall alone I found 4 different types and my favourite kind of sign "No Spraying. Feel Free To Taste". They had Ron and Bing and Rainier but my fave was definitely the Bing. And they weren't particularly expensive and came free of the nasty pesticides! Plump, firm and succulent, I gazed at three dangling from the same stem. And then I stuffed my mouth full with as many as I could at once, just to delight in this wonderful plenty.

We picked up heaps of other things - Swiss brown mushrooms, elderflower cordial, tomatoes and the best organic coriander I've seen in ages. And when we got home, I threw some cherries into a bowl and sliced open the packed of Smoked Buxton Trout. The Buxton Trout Farm is located near Healesville (Victoria's oldest commercial hatchery apparently), and while I've only gone past, I couldn't do the same to their stall. The trout was coral and slightly smoky, with a delicious oily texture that, well, went perfectly with the cherries! To be blunt, I ate half the packet standing up at the counter before the Figman even got a look in.

So note to self: Next time, get a whole kilo of cherries and another fish.

2005-12-16T20:42:00.000+11:00

There aren't any recipes or recountings in this post - it's all about sending my Feel Better Quick wishes to Barbara at winosandfoodies and Debbie at Words to Eat By.

I can't send you flowers, so here's a little something from the garden! Hope to see you both up and thriving soon.

Mr Wolf: Restaurant Review

2005-12-11T21:21:00.000+11:00

What's the time Mr Wolf? Like they've never heard that one before ....

An unexpected chance to go out for dinner had the Figman and I leaping hastily out of the house, ignoring the indignation of the small one in Winnie the Pooh pyjamas. I had been meandering up Gertrude Street earlier in the day and had been taken with the idea of dining at Ladro, but such a popular spot could only fit us in at the window bar and even then, only "if you rock up as soon as we open, around six". Figster could not be bothered with this kind of carryon ("If we go there, we go properly") and I cast my mind around for something similiar - casual, pizza, but a bit different. And so, I picked up the phone and rang Mr Wolf (no, not that one). Maybe at the bar, maybe they could do it later ... oh actually, a table at 8.30. Someone's cancelled.

I was surprised to arrive at this restaurant in the seedy side of St Kilda, to find the place half empty. The bar next door was jumping but the restaurant was eerily quiet for a Saturday night. We were seated and served quickly, but I was still puzzled at the lack of atmosphere in a popular pizzeria at this time. The specials sounded good and we mostly ordered from these: salt cod balls, radicchio and tomato salad, potato pizza with pippis. The only item from the regular menu we ordered was the Funghi pizza - roast garlic paste on the base and a scattering of mixed mushrooms. The aroma from this was amazing as it hit the table - you could smell it coming three steps away, but the taste didn't quite follow through. The advertised roast garlic paste was indiscernible and another salty ingredient would have rounded it out properly - anchovies or a mild but salty cheese. We had the salt cod balls to start but they were so so - so much so that I let Figman eat five of the six.

Bizarre to say, but the side salad was a star. I quizzed the waiter on it (as I was surprised to find a salad amongst the specials) but he just said "that's what Chef's decided we'll have for the next two weeks". Chopped radicchio. Flavoursome tomato (hard to come by at this time of year). Perfectly dressed. Simple, but beautiful. Our wine was a German riesling, by the glass. Figman said "thank goodness you're getting over that sauvignon blanc thing" and sipping this stunning riesling, I had to agree. The best of the night was the pippi pizza. The potatos could have done with another minute or so but the garlicky seafood and potato on a crisp thin base was just scrumptious.

Too full for dessert, but we managed to walk down to the St Kilda pier and by that time of course I was ready for gelato. There's a new little gelato place right down the bottom of Fitzroy street and it was packed out. It wasn't even close to the best gelato I've ever eaten, but the beach, summery night and ice cream - how can you go wrong?

Those Three Minutes

2005-12-06T10:15:00.000+11:00

Sunday evening, standing at the sink, staring out the window. It had been a lovely family dinner - quick simple food thrown together - barbequed chicken in lemon and garlic and stirfried green vegetables. The dishwasher is stacked, the counter is clear and yet - I cannot bring myself to move.

There are only a handful of tasks left to be done - the knives to be washed by hand, dried and put away. The counter to be wiped and the Plumbaby's highchair scrubbed of all those little handprints. The last vegetable peelings and scraps to be lifted out of the sink and put in the bin. That's all. Three minutes tops. Then I will have a clean kitchen, that won't irk me when I walk in for a glass of water and spy all the mess lying around. But it seems too much, too hard right now.

Maybe it's that I just spent six hours on my feet at the largest shopping centre in the Southern Hemisphere. Sheer foolishness at this time of year, but I needed a few bits and pieces from there before promotions stopped. Burst in on in a change room (once). Sneezed on in the toy department (once). Car park space swiped from under my nose (once). These are all trivial things but that, and the great hordes of Christmas shoppers made it a rather tiresome experience.

I spend four or five minutes at the bench, talking myself into it. And then, it is done. Clean. Sparkling. Finished. But why was it so hard to do? And does anyone else feel like this?

Divided Loyalties

2005-11-29T22:32:00.000+11:00

Well here they are as promised - my hard won pictures of the Koko Black chocolate box! (I will not go into detail about my fight with the photo shop woman, but just let's say there's a certain camera store that won't be getting any more of my custom. But I digress).

So yes indeed, this is the lovely box brought to me by the lovely L. who was in town last week and kindly brought me (okay, us) a gift of Koko Black chocolates - an amazing selection. Now I tell you, I didn't quite know what to do. You see - I love chocolate. That's a not a surprise to anyone who reads this blog. But I also have a weakness for handbags, 'specially Spencer & Rutherford ones.

Chocolatiers have sprung up all round the CBD in the last couple of years, but since I traded the suit for an apron, I don't spend much time in the city. Recently I was in Southbank with visiting relatives who wanted to check out the city centre. We wandered up through the Block Arcade and after spending some time in Haighs, I mentioned "Oh, there's Koko Black up in the Royal Arcade and I haven't been there yet". So we decided to go have a look but the other girls were bedazzled by the taffy pull at Suga. I was familiar with it and was champing at the bit to get to the chocolate, so I said "I'll head on up to Koko Black and if I'm not in there, you can find me in the handbag shop".

I walked up the arcade, pausing to look at some necklaces, and then I stood there at the top - staring at Koko Black. Staring at where my favourite handbag shop used to be. I was dumbfounded. How could this be? I stumbled in, dazed and confused. Yes, there was chocolate, great big chunks of Valrhona and Callebaut, truffles, chocolates, bars, but where oh where were the handbags???

The girls found me in this perilous condition and escorted me from the building but I hadn't resolved the issue in my mind. Could I support a store which had annexed my favouritest handbag store in the world? Did it make a difference that I hadn't been there in a couple of years? And would it help it the chocolates were really really good?

Well, as it turned out, I didn't have to solve this quandry. L. presented me with this box and I've sampled most of these myself as the Figman has been on an avowed health kick (avoiding butter and chocolate but not copious amounts of cheese - go figure). I managed to stretch it out over almost a week, so it's hard to remember all the details, but I have to say that my favourites were definitely the mint - the dark triangular one in the middle - it has a triangle of soft minty centre, yum! And the two in the middle on the far left - one with a crisp walnut half on top and the dark one next to it - gorgeous gorgeous raspberry! And very odd that these three include the two that Niki and Cin mentioned, but hey, maybe bloggers just have good taste. Ahem.

It was an interesting experience working through a chocolate box blind. I mean, normally with something like Cadbury's Roses, you can identify the chocolate from 100 metres just by the colour of the wrapper. But this was very sensory - sniff ... taste ... is it? ... ah ha! ... yes it is! Some centres were obvious, but others I really had to ponder. But they were exquisite. Reminded me of what can really be done with chocolate when imagination and talent are applied. And I think I'm going to have to just get over my divided loyalties. I mean, you can't eat a handbag, right?

Return of the Chef

2005-11-26T22:04:00.000+11:00

You Would Not Believe What I Do. Honestly.

As you can see, the commentary on my last post ran from sushi rolls to Koko Black's truffle selection and as mentioned, I wound up taking pictures on my old SLR in order to share this chocolate box with the world. As I was looking for the camera, I also came across an old roll of film from goodnessknowswhen. Then there was the roll in the camera already. And the new roll that I snapped through in 24 hours. Well, the garden was looking lovely and I had a few chocolate shots and there's always a demand for the Plumbaby to model. So, this morning, I sent Figman up to the shops and asked him to drop the films in to be processed to discs. He asked if we could get prints as well and I said Sure. Anyway, when he got back, he glanced at the receipt as he handed it to me and the man almost fainted. "SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS???" he thundered? "It costs seventy-five dollars to get three rolls of film processed?".

"Um, that's probably cos you wanted prints as well" I said, Trying To Make it Look Like His Fault. He rang the shop and changed it to discs only, but I have been ordered to stop using film immediately. Oh well, any excuse to buy a digital camera. But the pics are not going to be ready until Monday (you think for that price they would hand deliver them by velvet sleigh tonight) so I'll leave you with a little chocolate action in the meantime.

French Leave was a Channel 4 tv show and series about an English chef and his family moving to France for a year, to rediscover family life and a passion for cooking. I am a sucker for anything like this and I immensely enjoyed it. And a little while later, I picked up a battered copy of the accompanying book at a truck sale. The book was an eye-opener, as, while I admired JBR's skills, he didn't seem like someone I'd like to have dinner with. But he connects much better through his writing than the television and it's a decent read with some solid French recipes. One thing I'd always had a hankering to make was his Simple Chocolate Truffles and last week I finally got my act into gear and used some of the Callebaut I bought for this express purpose about a month ago.

The ganache centre could not have been more easy. As I am still without kitchen scales, I took a 300ml container of double cream from the fridge and tipped chocolate callets into a bowl until they were almost as heavy. I then took 2/3 of the cream and (slackly) heated it in the microwave. This was supposed to be brought to boiling on the stove and it probably would have been a better idea, because when I looked in th microwave and saw the yellow liquid separating, I freaked out and immediately tipped it over the chocolate. I then had to chop up some butter and chuck that in as well. But the cream obviously wasn't quite hot enough because I ended up having to put the entire mixture back into the microwave to get the chocolate to melt. Anyway.

Do you remember this honey? I added a couple of teaspoons to the mixture and left it to set. It tasted incredibly yummy at this point and I could barely restrain myself from tipping the bowl around every time I opened the fridge to see if it had cooled. Once firm, I scooped out the ganache with a nifty little icecream baller from the Essential Ingredient, dipped in melted chocolate and returned them to the freezer. JBR also recommends piping the ganache and I can see why. Even after being cooled it was very soft and difficult to scoop neatly. And despite how cute this little ice cream scoop is, I'm going to need a lot more practice to turn out uniform and not hideously misshapen balls.

The recipes says to double dip and while I followed these instructions for about half of the truffles, I wouldn't bother again. Maybe it was due to the viscosity of my chocolate, but the initial coat was enough. And apart from the way they looked, I was quite chuffed with this first attempt. They certainly tasted good - first the chocolate taste, then the honey hit, and the final impression was of cream - good rich thick cream. They are so decadent, I couldn't eat more than two without wanting to lie down and murmur in a dark room. And we won't talk about how I managed to burn a batch of the coating chocolate in the microwave while I was distracted.

I would have taken a photo for you, but as you now know, I have been banned. Whatever will the man do next? Take away my wooden spoon??

PS I was just looking at this post and trying to figure out Why On Earth I titled it Return of the Chef. Of course, JBR is back on the ABC this week with the second series set in Devon. Called Return of the Chef (you didn't imagine for a second that I was referring to me, did you???)

A Proud Mama

2005-11-21T21:44:00.000+11:00

I keep a record of the Plumbaby's first moments in a calendar - first steps, first words, first dance in front of the tv.

But today was a different first and I thought it belonged here. My child ate sushi for the first time today. True, it was teriyaki chicken and not raw fish, the piece he ate was dipped in soy and not wasabi, but he ate sushi. He crinkled up his nose at the smell but ate it eagerly. I couldn't be more pleased! Unless of course, the Plumbaby manages to make sushi for me.

You see, I understand the theory behind making sushi rolls, but somehow mine always look as though they were constructed by a two year old. I stuff them into my mouth on the grounds that it all tastes the same when jumbled up together, but really, I am a disgrace. So, as soon as the kid can handle a knife, I expect he'll be turning out a better effort than mine.

Chocolate/ Honey/ Clare

2005-11-18T23:04:00.000+11:00

Now as I'm sure many of you know, Clare at eat stuff had a nasty little accident recently, resulting in hospitalisation and ivs and lots and lots of disgusting food.

I sent her my get-well-wishes and I noticed that around the place other bloggers were dedicating posts or baking cakes, hoping Clare would feel better and mend faster. I was particularly taken with Cin's yoghurt cake, but I haven't baked a cake in whoknowshowlong? And when I first found eat stuff, I remember Clare getting down and dirty with the new Tim Tam icecream (ah Tim Tams, the double chocolate coat can do no wrong!). So when on Saturday night, I had to bring a low key dessert to dinner, I stood in front of the ice cream cabinet at my local supermarket. To be honest, I was there to get some vanilla icecream. I had just bought some almost-overripe mangoes at the market and was after that vanilla hit.

I haven't eaten Connoiseur icecream in ages, but during my stay in Perth, Figman's mother served up some of their Strawberry Stravaganza and it was good. So I casually wandered over to the Connoisseur display and there it was - Chocolate. Honey. Nougat. Apparently a "harmonious blend of chocolate and honey ice cream with a generous amount of the finest chocolate coated almond nougat". There was no other choice. This was it.

After an incredible Thai feast courtesy of my friend J. (who, unlike me, managed to crack open her copy of Thai Food and actually cook something from it!), we got stuck into the icecream. Well, except the Figman who ate so much prawn curry and chilli beef that he had to lie down on the floor (I'm not joking). The theory was to try the icecream first and then move on to the mango, but it didn't happen. Aaah, rich chocolate, mellow honey and gorgeous crunchy bits of nougat. T. was spooning out seconds and said "make sure you get some chunks" and he was right - the texture and crunch of the nougat was the perfect accompaniment for the smooth ice cream. And I thought of Clare and how much she might like this.

The mangoes were left spurned and uneaten - although my share wound up in a salsa the next day. And I tried to re-create the taste in a sandwich - brown bread, a drizzling of honey and chocolate chips, but it just wasn't the same. As soon as I get space in my freezer, a litre tub is going to come to visit methinks!

I was reminded of all of this when I read eat stuff today and saw that I wasn't the only one getting all excited. And Clare, I rang the Figman on his mobile yesterday morning while he was in a Very Important Meeting and said "How could you not tell me that Australia made it into the World Cup finals??!!!". He didn't think I'd think it was important. Would you believe it?? Thank goodness the man can wash up.

Some Things Go Together

2005-11-15T22:23:00.000+11:00

You see these cakes? I hope Figman's parents enjoyed them, because this was the last I saw of them. The photo was taken shortly before we departed for the airport and Melbourne. We were in Perth recently to attend the wedding of our dear friends L and C. I have known L. for almost all my adult life and it was wonderful to see her and C. married. Their ceremony was held inside a chapel in Leederville, high above a lake. I have walked past this many times but never guessed how beautiful it is inside. Beauty that takes you by surprise can be the best.

The reception was something out of this world. I had never been to the venue before and to suddenly step out onto a giant round stone terrace, sun setting where the river meets the ocean, a string quartet playing beautifully, dolphins leaping through the waves - it was one of the most romantic moments of my life. Lovely to catch up with people I haven't seen in ages, to drink champagne and watch the ships and pleasure boats moving along the river. And the food - I haven't even gotten started on the food.

Before we left, my mother, was quizzing me about the wedding in the way that mothers do, and she asked about the reception. "Um, it says substantial finger food", I answered, fishing around in my bag for the wedding booklet which accompanied the invitation. She looked puzzled for a second and then said "Well, it is C. and L. There's no way you'll go hungry with them. They are serious about food".

And they are. I had no doubts that I wouldn't be hungry, but even I was surprised at how much we were invited to taste and just how good it all was! We started with miniature vegetable frittatas and moved on to seared scallops in chinese spoons. There were oysters and king prawns, arancine and tiny tartlets with caramelized onions.

My favourite of the night was undoubtedly the salmon skewers. Cooked to perfection, these substantial skewers of salmon were presented with a ginger and lime sauce and were just delicious. Later in the night there were larger dishes - coq au vin in little bowls and saffron fish in noodle boxes. I am reliably informed that it was fish in the boxes, because I took one, and was so engaged in conversation that I put it down on the table behind me, and when I turned around to claim it it was gone!

L. and C. eschewed the traditional wedding cake and had a selection of small cakes and desserts - dark chocolate cakes with prunes, orange coconut cakes with white chocolate decorations and a fresh berry dessert that was so light and refreshing I couldn't say no to two!

As we were leaving, I had an orange cake in my hand and someone (I think it was the groom) insisted that I take a chocolate cupcake as well. I have to confess that the white chocolate garnish didn't last long on the ride home, but the rest of the cakes made it safely into the fridge for a post-wedding breakfast. At least that was the theory ...

Let's not talk about the next morning when I had to get up and catch a four hour flight. Let's not, okay?? Figman's parents still think I'm a respectable woman (why, I do not know, but they do) and I'd like to keep it that way! I managed to snap a quick photo of these before we left the house - any idea of breakfast long, long gone. But the cakes still looked good - chocolate and prune, orange and coconut - flavours that belong together. Just like L. and C.

Cape Lavender Strawberry Jam

2005-11-10T22:24:00.000+11:00

Actually, that is a tiny picture of Lavender Honey but you know what? I can't be bothered to go back and download a bigger one. So there you go, the true me ... lazy and slipshod. But I digress.

I too, have been gallivanting across in Western Australia. I had this wild idea that I would blog over here, to which I now say HAH! I barely had time to eat twice a day, let alone sit down somewhere for more than a few seconds. But I had a brief break when I went to the Domestic Airport to collect Figman (that makes it sound like he was packaged up nicely like a kitten in a travel cage!) and the plane was half an hour late. So I did what any reasonable person would do.

No, I did not try to sneak into the Qantas lounge so that I could admire the spotlessness of their toilets (honestly, they are the best airport toilets I have ever seen. And they could teach my toilet a thing or two). I went shopping. These days, thanks to the good people at Newslink, there is actually somewhere decent to shop in Australian airports. I had already picked up my 3 for $50 novels on the way out of Melbourne but this was a good opportunity to browse the local selection. And when I'd had a good read of Jeffery Steingarten's column in US Vogue, I wandered across to the Discover West store. These shops stock local wines, cheeses, chocolates, preserves - you name it! The one at Melbourne is not of particular interest to me because I already know about this stuff. But here, there were a stack of unknown treasures to be rummaged through.

To be fair, I was restricted by a small suitcase already crammed full to bursting and so, I restrained my purchasing. But I did look longingly at the cupcake soaps and packets of chocolates. And I was able to eliminate several condiments and sauces because I've seen them in Melbourne. Otherwise I would have bought about seven! So I felt very proud that I only bought two - Cape Lavender Strawberry Jam and Lavender Honey.

The lavender strawberry jam is gorgeous - it has an only-almost-set quality that I love and is very spreadable. The lavender taste varies considerably - at first I was wondering where the lavender was and the next minute, it tasted like soap! But apart from the odd moments when it's just too much lavender, it has a lovely taste and is the best strawberry jam I've had in years. I wish I'd brought more.

I haven't tasted the lavender honey and was saving it for something special, like this honey icecream of Heidi's. But this evening, I walked past the jar and stopped in my tracks. Someone had broken the seal! And this does not bode well. Figman and I have a very different approach, shall we say, to jams and preserves and breakfast condiments. I am of the separate-clean-spoon-keep-your-buttery-knife-out-of-my-damn-jamjar school and he is of the wild rollicking anything goes method. You know, it wouldn't surprise me to find him spooning out wasabi mayonnaise with a crowbar. Anyway, I digress ...

This difference of views led at one point to separate jam jars, but we've both softened our views and let that slide. And yet now, I think it might be time to reinstitute this preservatory apartheid. You see, the only honey in the house at the time of the Great Jam Wars was honey in a squeeze bottle. And so, it was left alone, since you can't get crumbs and butter into one of those unless you're really really determined. But since I discovered all these amazing new honeys, I've been buying jars of the stuff. And the big difference between preserves and honey is that the surface crumbs and butter start to slowly drift through the honey, until the vestiges of last week's toast are suspended midway down the jar. I watched this happen with the Tasmanian Orange Blossom Honey, kind of like a science experiment at the breakfast table. But it's not happening with my Lavender Honey, damnit!! I'll just have to send the Figman back for another jar. And he can pick up that cupcake for me while he's there!

PS I was very relieved to find that I am not the only person who does this. My friend T. has his own honey jar, which is off-limits to the rest of his family. Whenever we meet we fall into each other's arms and mutter darkly about our households and their buttery, buttery knives. Hehehehehe

2005-11-03T16:54:00.000+11:00

Halloween is not a particularly Australian institution. To me, it belongs in the final scenes of ET and the occasional US sitcom. But this day is the birthday of a family member and so, all day long I mutter to myself "don't forget to call, don't forget to call", not "lay in a store of Mars Bars".

So when there was a knock at the door in the early evening, I opened it in some surprise to find a small warlock, his feline sister, a half-pumpkin half-child and a miscellaneous costumed one standing there expectantly. Their faces were so sweet that I couldn't bear to dash their hopes immediately. "Um, just hang on a second" I said and I ran into the kitchen. There were no sweets to be found, no random packets of Milo bars or Cherry Ripes. I could have given them an organic date each, but I suspect they'd have been pushed back into my letterbox later in disgust!

Looking around frantically, I spotted a box full of chocolate callets. I grabbed some mini ziplock bags and scooped a couple of handfuls of chocolate into each one. The kids seemed pleased and I'm glad I didn't have to break the news to them that they were being given an orange or a stick of celery. And the best part is, I now feel perfectly justified in buying this chocolate. Just for this type of emergency, you know!

Smells Like Summer

2005-10-30T12:05:00.000+11:00

It smells like summer in my kitchen. There is a bowl of mangoes ripening on the table and the sweet, tropical scent fills the air. Although, I might enjoy them a little more if I hadn't read this about their family group!

Speaking of summer, Figman sat up in bed yesterday morning and said "it's barbeque day". Like Puscatawny Phil, my little groundhog wakes up and knows, this is the day. So we dragged the barbie out of the shed, filled the gas canister (a priority ever since it ran out halfway through the cooking one time and the local garages refused to fill it during their "peak times") and called up our friends.

"Keep it simple" Figman said sternly to me. "I do not want one of your extravaganzas, okay? Just a barbie with our mates." So I picked up some lamb cutlets, skinless chicken thighs and good pork chippolatas and a loaf of bread. And decided to throw together one of my favourite summer salads - Nigella's Watermelon and Feta Salad. It's so full of good flavours - crunchy sweet watermelon, the salt and cream of feta, mint, pepper, lime - I mean, how can you go wrong?

Nigella's recipe online misses the "1" from the "1.5" kilos of melon, in case you were wondering (I went and checked Forever Summer to be sure). I used a small pale green mini Lee watermelon - I just love these small whole melons with a thin rind. I prefer Danish feta over Greek, although according to the European Court of Justice, there shall be no such thing as "Danish" feta anymore. I leave out the olives and parsley because I can't stand either, but I have also been known to throw in some salad leaves at times - it's a very adaptable.

The men did their manly thing at the barbeque and some of them even liked the salad! We finished the meal on the same simple note - a couple of packs of mini-Magnums in classic and honeycomb, so that the greedy among us could have one of each if we couldn't make up our minds (that was me, me, me by the way. And a mini-magnum is not THAT big). Not bad for the first of the season.

PS there was a little goats cheese, tomato and ciabatta action going on in the kitchen while the mens were cooking the meat. But it was out of the Figman's line of vision, so it doesn't count, right?

PPS for every mean thing I say about Blogger, and really, how angry can you get with something that's free?, I have to say something pleasant. And today, after the Plumbaby figured out how to turn off the computer with one quick gesture before his mama could go "NOOOOOOOOOOOO I HAVEN'T SAVED THAT YET!" I can only say how very pleased I was with the 'recover post' feature. So thank you Blogger.

A Careless Cook

2005-10-25T10:15:00.000+10:00

I am a careless cook. Really. I am the girl who gets drunk at her own dinner party and serves a cake for dessert - flourless orange and coconut - all the while merrily forgetting to put the eggs in. An entire table of people will happily eat this disaster warm with cream and it is only in the morning when I taste the cooled cake that its egglessness becomes obvious. You know, when there's no flour in a cake, you really can't go leaving out another ingredient. Not eggs anyway.

And yet, I am bewildered by how many people find me intimidating, culinarily speaking. A dear friend told me recently "Oh, I couldn't have you over for dinner. I'd be too embarrassed to cook for you." I was stunned. The last time I'd entertained this friend, it had been an assembly job afternoon tea - fresh berries, double cream and a shop-bought chocolate cake. I didn't make a thing. Since the Plumbaby arrived in our world, my cooking has simplified as a matter of necessity - I don't have the time for elaborate creations or all day cooking-fests. But somehow, the stigma is still attached to me.

If only these people knew the truth. Take this morning for example. I looked at the loaf of white bread on the kitchen counter and thought "no, I must eat something healthier than that". So I got out the chopping board and diced some onion and zucchinis. I sauteed the onions and then added the zucchini for a quick fry. Then (I have a VERY low boredom threshold) I wandered off to check some sites and only went back to the kitchen when I smelled burning. My wonderful mix of golden onions and green zucchinis was unsalvagable.

So I sat down and had a bowl of icecream for breakfast.

Do you see what I'm saying here?

Sale Watch: Kmart

2005-10-22T20:22:00.000+10:00

Yes, you see, I don't spend all my time at fancy chocolate school or sipping champagne at soirees! I wandered into Kmart today and picked up a catalogue at the entrance. I usually stand there and read it and if there is nothing of interest, I hand it back as I walk in. I flicked through and it was very tedious stuff (I don't know, tyres, playstation, blah blah blah) and then a few books were featured. I Could Not Believe My Eyes. This book, The Cook's Book, which retails for $79.95, was on sale at Kmart for $49.95. And Twelve, Tessa Kiros's best seller, which has now been released in paperback, is half-price at $24.95!

I hastened off to the books section with catalogue in hand and found heaps of both books. I looked through Twelve, but it didn't really grab me. I mean, I have several Italian cookbooks and in fact, just bought this one, so it would have to be something very unusual for me to take it. And, I have had my eye on Falling Cloudberries for ages, I think that that is her book that I would like to have. Of the two, that is. So I put Twelve back, but not too reluctantly, because I am trying to be honest about buying cookbooks these days and if I really truly don't adore it and must have it, then it goes back. No arguments. Doesn't matter how cheap it is.

On a side issue, I don't much care for the re-issue in paperback of this or the Food of the World books recently. The Murdoch Food of the World books are gorgeous (and I have a particular weakness for the Food of France and China) but they are fairly big books and I don't see how they can be properly enjoyed in paperback - it just makes it too unwieldly. The price is more affordable, but I can't see getting these into a cookbook stand without difficulty and likewise, reading it flat on the kitchen table. This actually motivates me to try to pick Falling Cloudberries up before it goes into paperback, because I would rather pay an additional $10, not to have to cram it open all the time!

So, I think The Cook's Book is terrific value at this price and I might just possibly have snuck a copy into the car boot and I could be waiting to smuggle it in past the Figman when he's not watching. And as it's almost November now, it could be an early Christmas present. Definitely. We'll see.

Postscript: If I had read the stupid catalogue more carefully, I would have seen that Lindt 100g blocks are on sale at $2 each. I must have been distracted by the 15% off irons. Oh well, sale on until Wednesday!

Chocolate School

2005-10-20T12:05:00.000+10:00

Yes, there is such a thing! Melbourne has its very own school dedicated to chocolate and patisserie in Brunswick East, maybe 10 minutes from the city centre. I had been wanting to do a course at Savour for ages, but for a variety of reasons (namely money and time), it hadn't happened. And when I saw that they were holding an open day last weekend, I hopped along quick smart, despite being a tad, shall we say, squiffy?, after the racing.

I was tired, the room grew rapidly hot with the number of people present and the door open, I was standing for a couple of hours, but it was worth it. We watched demonstrations of tempering, moulding, mixing of fillings. I saw techniques that I hadn't even dreamt of. I got to taste some of the delights and eat the best mango gelati I've ever tasted, fresh from the ice cream maker.

Many of their classes cater for professionals, particularly when guest lecturers arrive from overseas for a week of classes. But most of the people in the room watching on Sunday seemed to be interested home cooks - people who just loved chocolate really. There were plenty of kids and they got to step and help with stirring and moulding - one little boy got very enthusiastic and dipped his hand as well as the wrapped foam into the chocolate. The crowd roared with laughter and he looked a little embarrassed, but hey, he got to lick it off later, right?

I'm a convert now and can only drool over the list of classes, wondering which I can manage to do and which is the best? How do you compare Level One Chocolates and Pralines to a class specialising in traditional French truffles (which, if it has to be said, I adore). Hmmmmn. And, I found a new and slightly cheaper supplier for this chocolate. Not that I would ever buy any, no sirrreeeee!