Recipe In Progress

It's Natalie's birthday today. No, I'm not gonna mention her age. That would be telling. But those of you who know me will be aware that for her birthday every year, I try to come up with a brand-new scratch-built recipe. Something nobody's done... at least, nobody I know about.

Past years have given us ricotta and pepperberry quiche; Yashmak Prawns (prawns slathered in a spicy coriander sauce, then wrapped in phyllo pastry with their tails sticking out, baked until the pastry is golden); Chilled Crab and Avocado Soup, and a bunch of others. Sometimes it doesn't work -- the scallops stir-fried with Cointreau were a bit ambitious, for example. Other times I get a real classic: Duck and Three Mushroom Pie, which I actually sold (as a recipe) to a Noosa restaurateur.

This year, I'm tackling a dessert. I'm calling it a Chocolate Mousse Slice, and so far, it works like this: you make a chocolate cake -- not too light. Has to have a fairly dense crumb. Slice it about two cm thick, lay the slices on a tray, drizzle with Frangelico. (Or Kahlua. Or maybe Baileys. But I like Frangelico.)

Meanwhile, you make yourself a wicked chocolate mousse -- all dark chocolate and eggwhites, with just enough cream to help it fluff up and stay together. Next, you chop your cake slices into rough pieces, and you fold the pieces into the mousse. Pour the whole lot into a springform pan with some baking paper across the bottom.

Theoretically, this will set up into a rich, soft mousse/pudding with moist, crumbly bits of liqueur-flavoured cake all through it to enhance the texture and flavour. In practice? Well, it's sitting in the fridge right now, hopefully setting properly to be served this evening after Natalie's favourite Thai Beef dish.

I'll keep you posted as to how it works out. I've got a few ideas on how it might be improved or enhanced - but I'm always open to suggestions!

EDITED TO ADD:

No. Fuck it. No changes. I'm going to be immodest here -- instant classic. The moist cake crumbled in the mousse, giving the dish a texture a bit like cookie-crumb ice cream. It was bloody brilliant. Rich as hell, but smooth and chocolaty and with the liqueured cake bits all through the thing, it was definitely something special.

Quicky

Completely forgot about this. Was having a discussion about fresh pasta on twitter the other day after i posted that i can't understand dried pasta anymore. A lot of people think fresh pasta is too much effort, but its a very, very easy thing to learn and to become quick in making it.

I'd definitely have this one on the table before your takeaway dinner made it to the door.

In a bowl put, the zest and juice of one lemon, a big handful of freshly fine grated parmesan, dash of olive oil, salt and pepper. Roughly mix with a fork. Cook fresh pasta, it takes about 1 minute. With the tongs, grab your pasta and dump on top of the sauce, you want a little of the water off the pasta. Toss, bit of chopped parsley on top, eat.

To Bluetiggy, there it is and whats more, with fresh pasta, it is beyond good, it it fantastic.

Serves 2

Do we eat ugly fish

I found this article at an interesting website called Straight Dope (which is now on my favorites) but do we really care whether we eat ugly fish or not? Although even I would draw the line at ordering something called the Slimehead...

Then again do fish care whether they eat ugly people?

Market value

Hi folks. A recent trip to Australia, and the food emporia thereof, reminded me that the very southern part of the world I live in is a culinary white-bread wasteland. Sure, you can get good coffee, decent Kalamata olives and quality chorizo, if you look hard enough, but you will pay through the fundament and will have less range than a plug-in electric car. However, there is one shining light, gleaming like a stream of bat's piss in the darkness, amongst the dour Scottish Presbyterianism of the deep south's palate. I think I strained a metaphor there. The one shining light is the markets.

Here I'm not talking about the sort of markets besmirched by cheap tat, random shite, tawdry trinkets, aura-aligning crystals and dodgy pirated DVDs flogged out of the boot of someone's Datsun Bluebird. I'm talking local produce markets. And in the case of D-Town, the Otago Farmers Market at the magnificent old railway station. Of course, fresh produce is old hat if you, for argument's sake, have a farm. But for the rest of us it's a novelty. And when you have a strength like the local producers of Otago, it's something to be celebrated.

It's simple stuff. New potatoes from Oamaru. Fresh cherries and stonefruit from Central Otago. Berries from Outram. Fresh fish off the boat in Port Chalmers. Free range eggs. Free range pork, lamb and beef. Venison salami. Fresh baked ciabatta. Gourmet pies. Artisan cheese from the factory in Evansdale. Craft beer from Green Man in the old Emerson's brewery in George St. Throw in hot steamed pork buns, grilled lamb kebabs, and bloody good coffee from the mobile van run by the flamboyant French dude, cast to type. Even on a relatively quiet Saturday-after-New-Years morning, with maybe a third of the stallholders absent, there's still a lot of gold. And more than the usual number of carparks. We went home with some farmhouse brie, ciabatta, fresh cherries, strawberries and raspberry jam, Jersey Benne potatoes, and fresh ground Sumatran-Bolivian coffee, all for well under the asking price at NZ Supermarket Of Choice (which, surprisingly enough, is itself less than the asking price at Australian Supermarket Of Choice, based on recent experience.) And the best part: no carneys selling tat. Just lots of good quality, certified local produce. That's almost never a bad thing. We're by no means regulars - usually Saturday morning swim lessons for the lads conspires against attending - but when there, we rarely get away without dropping a decent handful of cash. And rarely regretting any of it.

In short: visit your local farmers market. Unless it's run by carneys selling tat. In which case keep your hands in your pockets and GTFO.

The Doctor is OUT.

Well howdy

I have many weaknesses. Asian cooking. Growing potatos ( stop laughing Mr Flinthart, this isn't Tasmania.) Keeping up this blog, judging by the date on the last post, I mean Xmas is about food, you'd think I'd have enough material. And bread.

I've had a crack at bread from a few books, but never satisfactorily. During a recent back and forth over sausages or vege's or something food related with the knowledgeable Silverbeet from Twitter I was recomended this. The Handmade Loaf. And joy upon joy I got it for my birthday. At Xmas, but then that's the way things go when you're born in December.





Imagine breadmaking as religion. Breadmaking as I'd known it was like catholicism, very hands on, lots of to and fro. Well Dan Lepard's method is the buddism of bread. Put it together, go away and contemplate the state of the universe. Knead very lightly and leave until you have found inner peace. Knead very, very lightly and leave to rise. Invent a new form of Kung Fu...... Maybe I've pushed this too far.

The fact remains though that this method is much, much less kneading and pushing around of the dough. It requires precise measurements, something that binds and constricts my soul but I have made the best bread that I've ever made, still not what I'd call top quality but good enough that I'll keep on trying. The sour dough starter will be ready in a day or two and in keeping faith with the blog tonight I am going to make ham and mushroom foccacia!


MF from the iPhone

I'm ba-ak

Ok gentlemen - sorry for the break in transmission there for a bit. You know, work etc.

However, I have a mission for you if you choose to accept.

I have purloined a duckling. I need the best damned duck recipe you have - with the exception of confit - time is of the essence here - lunch on the weekend.

Your time starts now.

Ahh grasshopper, take the spring roll from my hand.

Two restaurant reviews from me in a few weeks, something is going on. The something in fact was a late game of footy and a lovely balmy Brisbane Monday evening gave me an excuse to try out a new Asian restaurant in Tenerife, Grasshopper Kitchen.

For those of you who follow chefs like celebrities in who weekly, check out the proper food reviewsfor all the essentials, I was simply interested in the food, especially the Chinese BBQ pork I'd picked from the online menu, still longing for the crispy pork ribs I'd had at Sichuan House. But I was denied, it had been dropped from the menu after the chef and owner weren't satisfied with the final dish. While I admire the ruthlessness of menu selection it left me searching the menu fir more porky goodness.






Since The Wife and I were both playing footy in a few hours we were only after starters, which was a shame, there was some beautiful sounding mains. We settled on the starter dish and some Asian greens in soy. We got four little serves each. Each was perfectly presented and a discussion between The Wife, our host and myself broke out on what to start with.






The kingfish was first off the rank, diced bits of fish with a beautiful gazpacho sorbet on top. I thought I could taste little explosions of citrus and wondered if they were using the fantastic Aussie ingredient, finger lime. The gazpacho was bursting with flavour, I wanted to lick the small bowl out. The Wife declared she'd happily come back and have that as her main next time. The finger lime suspicion was confirmed when we moved to the scallop, which had a small mound of green finger lime bubbles on top. If I could make a suggestion it would be to find the finger lime with the pinkish flesh. It has larger segments and more of a taste explosion when you burst the little balls. They were silky smooth and with subtle flavour, I'm not a scallop fan but these were delicious.

A shot glass full of peking duck consomme with shitake mushrooms and a green soy bean in the bottom was next up and straight down the throat it went. I love duck, to the point where I raised and killed my own and this was top notch stuff. The last dish was Sang choi bao, pork mince on shredded lettuce. It was packed to the brim with flavour and out of all the ones we tried it was the dish I would most like to replicate at home.

The food was delicious, real restaurant style, with great care taken on presentation and the balance of the ingredients. In fact the food was much better presented than I was, dressed for a football game, but i felt relaxed and comfortable on the wide cool deck with the breeze off the Brisbane river. In fact the styling is spot on, the funky lime green decor matches the tone of the food and surprisingly doesn't clash at all with the reassuring solidity of the woolshed in which its housed.

It was a Monday and 530 pm, but our host was more than happy to chat with a scruffily dressed customer about the food and what was good to eat, you couldn't have asked for better service. In fact, they were so slick that by the time I had left the mistake on the starter menu had been fixed on the website. Now that is on the ball.

Like I said earlier, I'd only bother to replicate one of the meals at home, but anytime I want a fresh vibrant and interesting feed of asian inspired food, I'll be back to the Grasshopper.


MF from the iPhone