Hi -
thanks for checking in.
I got fed up with Blogger being so slow to post (and often not being able to publish for days), so I have moved to:
www.filluponbread.net
I hope you will follow this link and find me again!
Thanks again
Fill Up On Bread
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
finally.... a homemade jerk seasoning recipe that works
For more than five years, we have been living in Australia, far away from the comfortingly-stocked shelves of our local Tesco in Brent Cross where the international food choices were staggering. With such a huge population in the area of West Indian descent, there was never any problem buying Orlando's - and subsequently my - favourite West Indian foods and seasonings.
Ackee and saltfish was delicious, easy and cheap to make for dinner. If we needed more jerk seasoning or pepper sauce (a traditional Barbados favourite), we popped down the road either to Tesco or to any of our local groceries, and picked up a jar of Walkerswood or a bottle of Windmill.
Now we live in Australia, we have to remember to stock up if either one of us goes to London. Happily, our trip to Barbados afforded us the chance to send back some decent quantities of jerk seasoning, pepper sauce and tins of ackee.
But how to become more self-sufficient? A few of our West Indian acquaintances here in Australia make really decent home-made pepper sauce or jerk seasoning, but I have never been able to come close. Perhaps it was the fresh Bajan air, or the amazing assaults on my taste buds every evening at dinner, but upon my return this time I think I have cracked it.
The most important thing to get right is the fresh chillies. Australia-dwellers, this is important: you will not find the chillies you need in Safeway. What we really need are habanero chillies but they are not sold in this country. So you need to go down to the local market or your local Asian grocery and ask for the hottest fresh chillies you can find. I get mine from Bharat Traders here in West Footscray, tiny green ones that look like this (they are on a side plate if that gives you an idea of size). I used about 12 of these for one batch of seasoning (enough to season about 1 kg of meat) and to be honest I could have done with a bit more heat still. Deseed before you use if you wish - I didn't bother.
Ackee and saltfish was delicious, easy and cheap to make for dinner. If we needed more jerk seasoning or pepper sauce (a traditional Barbados favourite), we popped down the road either to Tesco or to any of our local groceries, and picked up a jar of Walkerswood or a bottle of Windmill.
Now we live in Australia, we have to remember to stock up if either one of us goes to London. Happily, our trip to Barbados afforded us the chance to send back some decent quantities of jerk seasoning, pepper sauce and tins of ackee.
But how to become more self-sufficient? A few of our West Indian acquaintances here in Australia make really decent home-made pepper sauce or jerk seasoning, but I have never been able to come close. Perhaps it was the fresh Bajan air, or the amazing assaults on my taste buds every evening at dinner, but upon my return this time I think I have cracked it.
The most important thing to get right is the fresh chillies. Australia-dwellers, this is important: you will not find the chillies you need in Safeway. What we really need are habanero chillies but they are not sold in this country. So you need to go down to the local market or your local Asian grocery and ask for the hottest fresh chillies you can find. I get mine from Bharat Traders here in West Footscray, tiny green ones that look like this (they are on a side plate if that gives you an idea of size). I used about 12 of these for one batch of seasoning (enough to season about 1 kg of meat) and to be honest I could have done with a bit more heat still. Deseed before you use if you wish - I didn't bother.
The second important ingredient is all-spice. Many people think this is a mixture of spices used in baking, but that is mixed spices. All-spice is the fruit of the Jamaican pimiento tree and is a very specific ingredient. Happily, although you cannot get the pimiento berries themselves here in Australia, we can buy ground all-spice in most big supermarkets. It's not the same but it does the job.
The third thing is the tool you use. You will need to get this mixture ground down as smooth as possible, so the best results will be obtained from a blender or from a pestle and mortar. I have only used a food processor so far, which chops very finely indeed but it is not enough to make the seasoning paste really sink into the meat.
So, here you go. Give it a try and roast your own jerk chicken for dinner this weekend.
Ingredients (enough to season about 1kg of chicken)
3-4 large scallions or spring onions
6-12 hot chillies
small bunch of fresh thyme
2-3 teaspoons of allspice powder
1-2 teaspoons of ground nutmeg or the freshly-ground equivalent
1-2 teaspoons sugar
juice of half a fresh lime
freshly-ground salt and black pepper
Other people add some ginger, or coriander. I am going to try and add some native Australian herbs and spices, like lemon myrtle or pepperberry, and see how that goes.
Method
De-seed the chillies if you wish. Chop up the scallions and chillies as finely as you can. You can use onion if you are stuck, but I find the onion rather overpowers the balance of flavours too much.
Remove the leaves of the thyme from their woody stems by stripping each stalk backwards. Don't worry about being too finicky with this.
Throw all ingredients into a blender or food processor and blend until as smooth as you can get it. If you don't have a blender, start by chopping everything as small as possible and then use a pestle and mortar to crush the onions, chillies and thyme into as smooth a paste as you can manage.
This seasoning will keep in the fridge in a sterilised container for a week or two if you don't use it all at once. If you add a little white vinegar to the mix at the end of the blend, this will help with longevity.
Rub a small amount of the seasoning onto each joint of meat - I use no more than 2-3 teaspoons per chicken joint or breast. Make sure you get into every nook and cranny. Then cover and leave for as long as you can - overnight if possible, but at least an hour if you are in a hurry.
Roast slowly and enjoy the beautiful aromas coming from the kitchen!
Serve with rice and peas: soak 2-3 tablespoonfuls of black beans, black-eyed peas or similar overnight. Alternatively use azuki beans which are easily found in Asian markets, and don't need soaking. Bring to the boil and cook slowly in plenty of water until cooked. DO NOT THROW AWAY THE WATER. Add your white rice and a dash of salt to the cooked peas in the same water (this makes the rice turn a different colour and adds flavour). Stir occasionally until cooked through, then strain the last of the water away and serve up.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Mairead's killer chicken curry
Ingredients
500g chicken breast or thigh fillets, whichever you prefer, chopped into bite-sized pieces
2-3 tbsp olive oil
1-3 large green chillies, fresh, chopped
1/2 tbsp black mustard seeds
1 star anise broken into pods
2-3 cardamom pods
2-3 cloves
1 piece cinnamon, broken up (optional)
1/2 tbsp garam masala
1/2 tbsp turmeric
1/2 tbsp other meat masala (if available from Indian shops)
2-3 cloves garlic, chopped finely (optional)
2-3 tbsp olive oil
1-3 large green chillies, fresh, chopped
1/2 tbsp black mustard seeds
1 star anise broken into pods
2-3 cardamom pods
2-3 cloves
1 piece cinnamon, broken up (optional)
1/2 tbsp garam masala
1/2 tbsp turmeric
1/2 tbsp other meat masala (if available from Indian shops)
2-3 cloves garlic, chopped finely (optional)
1 medium onion, chopped
2-3 carrots, chopped
1-2 potatoes, chopped (optional)
Method
2-3 carrots, chopped
1-2 potatoes, chopped (optional)
Method
Heat the oil in a large stove-top pot.
Throw in the black mustard seeds and cook until they just start popping.
Throw in the chillies and cook for 2-3 minutes until pungent.
Add the star anise, cardamom, cloves, cinnamon, turmeric and both masalas. Stir vigorously and cook for 2-3 minutes. Add a little more olive oil to moisten if necessary.
Add the garlic and chopped onion, stir into the mixture and cook for 3-4 minutes until softened and beginning to brown.
Add the chicken pieces, stir in well and cook for 3-4 minutes or so.
Add the carrots (and potatoes if you wish) and enough water to just cover all ingredients. Stir well.
Cook slowly over a very low heat - or transfer to a low heat in the oven - for about an hour. Check occasionally, adding more water as necessary to make the curry have as much or as little gravy as you wish.
The longer you cook this curry, and the older the pot you cook it in, the better it will taste. Works pretty well in a slow-cooker too, but you have to cook all the spices manually first (method up as far as adding the chicken) as laid out above, then you can leave to simmer in the slow cooker if you wish.
Throw in the black mustard seeds and cook until they just start popping.
Throw in the chillies and cook for 2-3 minutes until pungent.
Add the star anise, cardamom, cloves, cinnamon, turmeric and both masalas. Stir vigorously and cook for 2-3 minutes. Add a little more olive oil to moisten if necessary.
Add the garlic and chopped onion, stir into the mixture and cook for 3-4 minutes until softened and beginning to brown.
Add the chicken pieces, stir in well and cook for 3-4 minutes or so.
Add the carrots (and potatoes if you wish) and enough water to just cover all ingredients. Stir well.
Cook slowly over a very low heat - or transfer to a low heat in the oven - for about an hour. Check occasionally, adding more water as necessary to make the curry have as much or as little gravy as you wish.
The longer you cook this curry, and the older the pot you cook it in, the better it will taste. Works pretty well in a slow-cooker too, but you have to cook all the spices manually first (method up as far as adding the chicken) as laid out above, then you can leave to simmer in the slow cooker if you wish.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Giuseppe, Arnaldo & Sons
A weekend late (very late) birthday treat with Lee saw us cruising Crown on a Sunday lunchtime looking for fish. We'd just spent a couple of hours in Melbourne Aquarium to see the baby hammerhead sharks, and seafood was the order of the day. You know your fate is sealed when you stand at an aquarium window staring at a large octopus, and the only three words that come to mind are: Lemon. Oregano. Chargrilled.
Sadly, Waterfront is gone forever, replaced by the shell of a new restaurant called Atlantic Bar & Grill. So we wandered into Giuseppe, Arnaldo's no later than noon to see what they could do for us.
It's a funky place with a serious pedigree, and I have heard nothing but good stuff about the place. On a 40C day in the city, we sat alongside the strange folding windows, opened out to show a sleepy riverfront, and the coolness of the interior still won out. The wait staff in their butcher's coats, jeans and Converse were attentive but not overpowering, and it didn't take us long to order two plates of the spaghetti with crab.
The wine list didn't really attract for wines by the glass, so I went with the house red, a tempranillo blend straight from the tap behind the bar. It worked. Beside us, a man about my own age entertained a gorgeous young four- or five-year-old to lunch. She sat imperiously at table, knowing how good she looked in that hairband with the huge pink flower, and looked like she was pretty good company.
Behind me the big salami showcase glistened, and we are not sure how we succeeded in not ordering a plate of everything, with a hunk of the fresh artisan bread lining the walls beyond. But we stuck to our guns, and awaited our pasta.
Not sure why the pasta was served wrapped in a baking sheet parcel. It was a lovely, garlicky, tomatoey pasta sauce with plenty of fresh crab meat, and I just know it was only in that oven for a few minutes. It didn't need to be oven-baked. But the visual impact was pretty good on arrival, even if the baking parchment then got in the way for the rest of the meal.
The pasta was too saucey for Lee. I didn't know what she meant. There is no such thing as too much sauce for me.
At the next table, a couple chose the chicken cacciatore which looked and smelled amazing. Nearby, somebody else chose the Sunday roast - suckling pig. Now, that looks like a dish to come back for.
I can't comment on the value for money, as lunch was Lee's treat, but the menu looked tempting enough for a second, more leisurely, visit another time.
Sadly, Waterfront is gone forever, replaced by the shell of a new restaurant called Atlantic Bar & Grill. So we wandered into Giuseppe, Arnaldo's no later than noon to see what they could do for us.
It's a funky place with a serious pedigree, and I have heard nothing but good stuff about the place. On a 40C day in the city, we sat alongside the strange folding windows, opened out to show a sleepy riverfront, and the coolness of the interior still won out. The wait staff in their butcher's coats, jeans and Converse were attentive but not overpowering, and it didn't take us long to order two plates of the spaghetti with crab.
The wine list didn't really attract for wines by the glass, so I went with the house red, a tempranillo blend straight from the tap behind the bar. It worked. Beside us, a man about my own age entertained a gorgeous young four- or five-year-old to lunch. She sat imperiously at table, knowing how good she looked in that hairband with the huge pink flower, and looked like she was pretty good company.
Behind me the big salami showcase glistened, and we are not sure how we succeeded in not ordering a plate of everything, with a hunk of the fresh artisan bread lining the walls beyond. But we stuck to our guns, and awaited our pasta.
Not sure why the pasta was served wrapped in a baking sheet parcel. It was a lovely, garlicky, tomatoey pasta sauce with plenty of fresh crab meat, and I just know it was only in that oven for a few minutes. It didn't need to be oven-baked. But the visual impact was pretty good on arrival, even if the baking parchment then got in the way for the rest of the meal.
The pasta was too saucey for Lee. I didn't know what she meant. There is no such thing as too much sauce for me.
At the next table, a couple chose the chicken cacciatore which looked and smelled amazing. Nearby, somebody else chose the Sunday roast - suckling pig. Now, that looks like a dish to come back for.
I can't comment on the value for money, as lunch was Lee's treat, but the menu looked tempting enough for a second, more leisurely, visit another time.
Monday, January 24, 2011
loading dock
Riverfront, 70 Lorimer Street, South Wharf, Melbourne
(03) 9681 8289
A casual afternoon lunch with friends on a sunny Melbourne Sunday. Where to go? Initially I balked at the idea of Docklands, even on such a perfect day. Everybody knows that despite the developers' and Melbourne City Council's best efforts, Docklands is a wasteland, and only barely acceptable for about three weeks of the year when the wind is at its lowest and the mercury at its highest.
But no, this little gem of a place is on South Wharf, over the curly pedestrian bridge from Docklands proper, or a pleasant 10-minute stroll west along the river from the Polly Woodside. If you are a shopper, it's less than five minutes walk from the South Wharf DFO complex. The tables outside face north, so they are a bit of a sun-trap, with a small marina spread out in front, and city views all around. Perfect.
Over the course of four hours we grazed on perfectly-cooked thin-crust margherita pizza, fresh and flavoursome thai beef and black-seared tuna salads, generous panini, a pretty stunning Aussie burger, and a couple of excellent Jamaican dishes - curried goat and Jamaican-style snapper with pumpkin rice and okra.
One of the co-owners here is Jamaican, and on the third Sunday evening of the month they host a West Indian evening. We missed the last one being out of town, but February's is firmly in the diary.
The wait staff were lovely. Well, I admit one of them was the daughter of the friends with whom we were eating, but the other waiter didn't know who we were initially, and was most welcoming and accommodating. On paying our bill, one of the owners looked after us, and his civility gave us every reason to give him our custom again.
I have to say the pizzas alone are worth the wander down to this little-known corner of Melbourne city, and I know it is going to become a bit of a regular haunt for us.
So if you're looking for a new corner of Melbourne with some pretty good food and a laid-back riverside vibe, head down to Loading Dock. It's worth the detour.
(03) 9681 8289
A casual afternoon lunch with friends on a sunny Melbourne Sunday. Where to go? Initially I balked at the idea of Docklands, even on such a perfect day. Everybody knows that despite the developers' and Melbourne City Council's best efforts, Docklands is a wasteland, and only barely acceptable for about three weeks of the year when the wind is at its lowest and the mercury at its highest.
But no, this little gem of a place is on South Wharf, over the curly pedestrian bridge from Docklands proper, or a pleasant 10-minute stroll west along the river from the Polly Woodside. If you are a shopper, it's less than five minutes walk from the South Wharf DFO complex. The tables outside face north, so they are a bit of a sun-trap, with a small marina spread out in front, and city views all around. Perfect.
Over the course of four hours we grazed on perfectly-cooked thin-crust margherita pizza, fresh and flavoursome thai beef and black-seared tuna salads, generous panini, a pretty stunning Aussie burger, and a couple of excellent Jamaican dishes - curried goat and Jamaican-style snapper with pumpkin rice and okra.
One of the co-owners here is Jamaican, and on the third Sunday evening of the month they host a West Indian evening. We missed the last one being out of town, but February's is firmly in the diary.
The wait staff were lovely. Well, I admit one of them was the daughter of the friends with whom we were eating, but the other waiter didn't know who we were initially, and was most welcoming and accommodating. On paying our bill, one of the owners looked after us, and his civility gave us every reason to give him our custom again.
I have to say the pizzas alone are worth the wander down to this little-known corner of Melbourne city, and I know it is going to become a bit of a regular haunt for us.
So if you're looking for a new corner of Melbourne with some pretty good food and a laid-back riverside vibe, head down to Loading Dock. It's worth the detour.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
duchess of spotswood
Duchess of Spotswood
87 Hudsons Road
Spotswood 3015
A mid-week day off from flood response saw me, Kerry and Nina meander down to their new(ish) local eatery, the Duchess of Spotswood. This place is not open that long and has a huge following already, so I was looking forward to a late breakfast with good company.
We sat at the big table right at the window, in a sparsely-decorated but bright and welcoming main salon. One or two tables sat outside on the pavement. On a late Wednesday morning the place wasn't hopping but we were still three of about eight or nine punters.
The breakfast menu was interesting and full of lovely names - breakfast of champignons, anyone? - but nothing on there for one of us who did not fancy eggs. Everything bar the muesli and the toast (Zeally Bay sourdough, thankyouverymuch) included eggs. Happily, they cobbled together a breakfast of sides for our eggless one, whilst Kerry chose poached eggs with spinach and tomato on Zeally Bay sourdough. I chose the Prince of Wales: house-smoked salmon with a poached egg served with potato pancakes.
My weak English Breakfast tea came out in a proper pottery teapot with a tea-leaf holder inside that meant I could stop the brewing anytime I wanted. Marvellous. Kerry's latte was perfect. I believe they use Auction Rooms small batch coffee.
We didn't have to wait too long for our dishes to arrive. My smoked salmon was small but perfectly-formed, and although initially I quailed at my portion size, it was indeed an elegant sufficiency. My poached egg was perfectly cooked, a delight. The tiny potato pancakes were lovely, but with one slice of bread were insufficient for my carb-loving body, so I followed through with some more toast and home-made rhubarb jam for afters. Or it could have been the hangover I was nursing.
87 Hudsons Road
Spotswood 3015
A mid-week day off from flood response saw me, Kerry and Nina meander down to their new(ish) local eatery, the Duchess of Spotswood. This place is not open that long and has a huge following already, so I was looking forward to a late breakfast with good company.
We sat at the big table right at the window, in a sparsely-decorated but bright and welcoming main salon. One or two tables sat outside on the pavement. On a late Wednesday morning the place wasn't hopping but we were still three of about eight or nine punters.
The breakfast menu was interesting and full of lovely names - breakfast of champignons, anyone? - but nothing on there for one of us who did not fancy eggs. Everything bar the muesli and the toast (Zeally Bay sourdough, thankyouverymuch) included eggs. Happily, they cobbled together a breakfast of sides for our eggless one, whilst Kerry chose poached eggs with spinach and tomato on Zeally Bay sourdough. I chose the Prince of Wales: house-smoked salmon with a poached egg served with potato pancakes.
My weak English Breakfast tea came out in a proper pottery teapot with a tea-leaf holder inside that meant I could stop the brewing anytime I wanted. Marvellous. Kerry's latte was perfect. I believe they use Auction Rooms small batch coffee.
We didn't have to wait too long for our dishes to arrive. My smoked salmon was small but perfectly-formed, and although initially I quailed at my portion size, it was indeed an elegant sufficiency. My poached egg was perfectly cooked, a delight. The tiny potato pancakes were lovely, but with one slice of bread were insufficient for my carb-loving body, so I followed through with some more toast and home-made rhubarb jam for afters. Or it could have been the hangover I was nursing.
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
Shun Fung re-visited
Shun Fung
Barrack Square, Perth
www.shunfung.com.au
Turns out I visit this place about once a year, and it never disappoints.
This evening I visit with Sally the Gluten Free Person. A G&T each beforehand at the fabulously-named Lucky Shag and we are ravenous. Excellent news: we agree on Singapore noodles being on the order list.
It's before 6.30pm - in this time zone. In Sally's Brisbane mind it's 8.30pm and in my Melbourne head it's 9.30pm; almost bedtime. We order quickly.
Who knew cumin lamb could be this tasty? Slow-cooked with leeks, it goes just perfectly with the Singapore noodles. The stir-fried squid with mange tout (snowpeas to southern hemisphere types) is similarly delicious.
We sit contentedly on the balcony overlooking the mighty Swan River, sheltered from most of the brisk southerly breeze, eat our fill, put the world to rights, then retire righteously to bed.
I love nights like this.
Barrack Square, Perth
www.shunfung.com.au
Turns out I visit this place about once a year, and it never disappoints.
This evening I visit with Sally the Gluten Free Person. A G&T each beforehand at the fabulously-named Lucky Shag and we are ravenous. Excellent news: we agree on Singapore noodles being on the order list.
It's before 6.30pm - in this time zone. In Sally's Brisbane mind it's 8.30pm and in my Melbourne head it's 9.30pm; almost bedtime. We order quickly.
Who knew cumin lamb could be this tasty? Slow-cooked with leeks, it goes just perfectly with the Singapore noodles. The stir-fried squid with mange tout (snowpeas to southern hemisphere types) is similarly delicious.
We sit contentedly on the balcony overlooking the mighty Swan River, sheltered from most of the brisk southerly breeze, eat our fill, put the world to rights, then retire righteously to bed.
I love nights like this.
Monday, December 06, 2010
Balti, Perth
Balti Restaurant
3/2 St. George's Terrace, Perth 6000
http://www.balti.com.au/
A chilly evening in Perth, and I am three hours jet lagged. In search of sustenance close to my hotel, I try Balti Restaurant nearby, which I have walked past a dozen times.
It's early Monday evening, in Perth CBD, and all I am hoping for a place with at least some fellow diners. This is the place - even before 7pm it is nicely buzzing. The walls are decorated with candid portraits of beautiful Indian people, a few desultory Christmas decorations, and anonymous but pleasant modern Indian music on the sound system.
I am placed at a table right by the bar where the restaurant manager is keeping the engine-room going. The wait staff buzz by, kept busy by the diners. I choose a glass of local Ringbolt cabernet sauvignon and a few poppadums to get me started, don my old-lady reading glasses and settle down with my book. Just as well. My main course took an hour to arrive.
My Goan fish curry is delicious, although not as coconutty or as sharp-tasting as it could be, but it is good. I wonder if the listed Redsport Emperor fish is really salmon, the colour is so pink, but it is indeed a white fish nicely marinated.
My relaxing evening is punctuated occasionally by the raised voice of the restaurant manager yelling (I am not exaggerating) down the phone at a member of staff or a contractor, I am not sure, and again later by the same person standing right by my table and threatening to fire a waitress if she didn't raise her professional game. All very admirable, in that he was on both occasions trying to keep standards of customer service high. Ironic, then, that my experience is being diminished slightly by having to witness this carry-on as I eat.
I finish my meal, and my book, and head to the bar to pay my bill. I try to pay for my wine separately, and the manager tells me quickly that they do not split bills under any circumstances, "madam". I wonder who he thought I was splitting the bill with, as the sole occupant of a table for one. I try again, explaining that I would like to pay $26 (the price of my wine) in cash, and the remainder by card. This time he accepts quickly: cash is king, it seems.
I compliment the manager on the food and the service, but suggest very gently that perhaps my experience could have been better if I'd not heard staff being threatened with the sack right at my table. He asks very politely: "Have you ever worked in hospitality, madam?". I answer yes. He asks whether I'd ever managed a restaurant that busy. I answer no. I hadn't thought it was that busy, to be honest.
And there you have it. Apparently in Balti Restaurant, the customer's opinion counts for nothing. Pity. If the attitude had been different, this could have been a regular haunt. As things stand, I can't say I can recommend the place.
3/2 St. George's Terrace, Perth 6000
http://www.balti.com.au/
A chilly evening in Perth, and I am three hours jet lagged. In search of sustenance close to my hotel, I try Balti Restaurant nearby, which I have walked past a dozen times.
It's early Monday evening, in Perth CBD, and all I am hoping for a place with at least some fellow diners. This is the place - even before 7pm it is nicely buzzing. The walls are decorated with candid portraits of beautiful Indian people, a few desultory Christmas decorations, and anonymous but pleasant modern Indian music on the sound system.
I am placed at a table right by the bar where the restaurant manager is keeping the engine-room going. The wait staff buzz by, kept busy by the diners. I choose a glass of local Ringbolt cabernet sauvignon and a few poppadums to get me started, don my old-lady reading glasses and settle down with my book. Just as well. My main course took an hour to arrive.
My Goan fish curry is delicious, although not as coconutty or as sharp-tasting as it could be, but it is good. I wonder if the listed Redsport Emperor fish is really salmon, the colour is so pink, but it is indeed a white fish nicely marinated.
My relaxing evening is punctuated occasionally by the raised voice of the restaurant manager yelling (I am not exaggerating) down the phone at a member of staff or a contractor, I am not sure, and again later by the same person standing right by my table and threatening to fire a waitress if she didn't raise her professional game. All very admirable, in that he was on both occasions trying to keep standards of customer service high. Ironic, then, that my experience is being diminished slightly by having to witness this carry-on as I eat.
I finish my meal, and my book, and head to the bar to pay my bill. I try to pay for my wine separately, and the manager tells me quickly that they do not split bills under any circumstances, "madam". I wonder who he thought I was splitting the bill with, as the sole occupant of a table for one. I try again, explaining that I would like to pay $26 (the price of my wine) in cash, and the remainder by card. This time he accepts quickly: cash is king, it seems.
I compliment the manager on the food and the service, but suggest very gently that perhaps my experience could have been better if I'd not heard staff being threatened with the sack right at my table. He asks very politely: "Have you ever worked in hospitality, madam?". I answer yes. He asks whether I'd ever managed a restaurant that busy. I answer no. I hadn't thought it was that busy, to be honest.
And there you have it. Apparently in Balti Restaurant, the customer's opinion counts for nothing. Pity. If the attitude had been different, this could have been a regular haunt. As things stand, I can't say I can recommend the place.
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Ricky's curried goat
Try this for a good curried goat - thanks Ricky for the seasoning advice!
Ingredients for seasoning
3 kinds of chilli peppers (or whatever your taste is) - Ricky used scotch bonnets, bullet and home grown killer peppers
3 cloves garlic
1 medium onion
4 spring onions
1" ginger root
thyme
coriander
whole black peppers
2 tbsp curry powder
west indian season-all powder
A little water
Method
Blend together and marinate the meat overnight. Best to use fresh goat on the bone, but if youare unadventurous or goat is unavailable, some cubed lamb works well too.
Dice one potato, and a carrot or two if you wish, and add to the mix. Add a little water and cook very slowly for as many hours as you can manage.
Serve with rice and black-eyed/pigeon/gunga peas.
Ingredients for seasoning
3 kinds of chilli peppers (or whatever your taste is) - Ricky used scotch bonnets, bullet and home grown killer peppers
3 cloves garlic
1 medium onion
4 spring onions
1" ginger root
thyme
coriander
whole black peppers
2 tbsp curry powder
west indian season-all powder
A little water
Method
Blend together and marinate the meat overnight. Best to use fresh goat on the bone, but if youare unadventurous or goat is unavailable, some cubed lamb works well too.
Dice one potato, and a carrot or two if you wish, and add to the mix. Add a little water and cook very slowly for as many hours as you can manage.
Serve with rice and black-eyed/pigeon/gunga peas.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
you're looking at $5 - anti-poverty chef challenge
Red Cross has launched a pocket-size collection of $5 recipes for families struggling to get by in Queensland, to mark Anti-Poverty Week which runs from 17 to 23 October 2010.
'Many of the people we work with, including young families and the elderly, face times when they struggle to put a meal on the table,' said Australian Red Cross spokesperson Anna Boyce. 'The idea behind the $5 recipe booklet is to give a little bit of inspiration to people confronted by poverty, offering meals that can be created out of the smallest of budgets. 'Australia-wide it is estimated around 5% of people experience times when they have no food and no money to purchase food,' said Anna Boyce. 'Everyone has the right to food, shelter, healthcare and the basic necessities - we work with the most vulnerable and disadvantaged people in Australia and around the world to help improve quality of life.'
Hundreds of copies of the 'You're looking at $5' recipe booklet will be given to Red Cross' Queensland clients for Anti-Poverty Week. The booklet's 16 recipes - which were submitted by staff, volunteers and members of the public - all cost $5 or less to make, and include Red Lentil Soup, Spicy Mexican Beans, Succotash and Deluxe Porridge. The booklet includes recipes and an introduction by former Masterchef contestant and Brisbane local Sharnee Rawson. 'Anti-Poverty Week is a time to build public understanding about the causes and consequences of poverty and hardship around the world and in Australia. It's also a chance to encourage research, discussion and action to tackle poverty,' said Anna Boyce.
www.redcross.org.au/QLD/media/Recipe_book.pdf
'Many of the people we work with, including young families and the elderly, face times when they struggle to put a meal on the table,' said Australian Red Cross spokesperson Anna Boyce. 'The idea behind the $5 recipe booklet is to give a little bit of inspiration to people confronted by poverty, offering meals that can be created out of the smallest of budgets. 'Australia-wide it is estimated around 5% of people experience times when they have no food and no money to purchase food,' said Anna Boyce. 'Everyone has the right to food, shelter, healthcare and the basic necessities - we work with the most vulnerable and disadvantaged people in Australia and around the world to help improve quality of life.'
Hundreds of copies of the 'You're looking at $5' recipe booklet will be given to Red Cross' Queensland clients for Anti-Poverty Week. The booklet's 16 recipes - which were submitted by staff, volunteers and members of the public - all cost $5 or less to make, and include Red Lentil Soup, Spicy Mexican Beans, Succotash and Deluxe Porridge. The booklet includes recipes and an introduction by former Masterchef contestant and Brisbane local Sharnee Rawson. 'Anti-Poverty Week is a time to build public understanding about the causes and consequences of poverty and hardship around the world and in Australia. It's also a chance to encourage research, discussion and action to tackle poverty,' said Anna Boyce.
www.redcross.org.au/QLD/media/Recipe_book.pdf
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
vicki's no-bake cheesecake
The lovely Vicki at work made me this divine cheesecake for a birthday morning tea. It's the nicest cheesecake I've had in years.
Ingredients
250g sweet biscuits
125g butter, melted
375g cream cheese, softened
zest of 1 lemon
2 tsp vanilla essence
1/3 cup lemon juice
400g tin condensed milk
Method
1. Grease and line a 20cm spring form tin.
2. Place biscuits in food processor and finely crush. Add butter and process until mixed.
3. Press half of the mix into the base of the tin, and press the remainder around the sides, using a glass to firm it into place. Refrigerate for 10-15 minutes.
4. Beat the cream cheese until smooth and creamy. Add lemon rind and vanilla and beat. Add the condensed milk and lemon juice gradually, and beat until smooth and the volume has increased.
5. Pour into the tin and refrigerate overnight.
6. Decorate with diced strawberries and icing sugar, or as desired
Notes:
1. To make gluten free, substitute gluten free biscuits for the base. I use Arnott’s Rice Cookies (supermarket biscuit aisle) and use approximately 90g of butter as these biscuits are shortbread-like and don’t require much butter to bind.
2. Recommend using 500g of cream cheese if making as per the recipe above.
3. Use 375g of cream cheese if adding melted chocolate (150, maybe 200g?).
4. I substitute vanilla paste or bean for the vanilla essence.
Ingredients
250g sweet biscuits
125g butter, melted
375g cream cheese, softened
zest of 1 lemon
2 tsp vanilla essence
1/3 cup lemon juice
400g tin condensed milk
Method
1. Grease and line a 20cm spring form tin.
2. Place biscuits in food processor and finely crush. Add butter and process until mixed.
3. Press half of the mix into the base of the tin, and press the remainder around the sides, using a glass to firm it into place. Refrigerate for 10-15 minutes.
4. Beat the cream cheese until smooth and creamy. Add lemon rind and vanilla and beat. Add the condensed milk and lemon juice gradually, and beat until smooth and the volume has increased.
5. Pour into the tin and refrigerate overnight.
6. Decorate with diced strawberries and icing sugar, or as desired
Notes:
1. To make gluten free, substitute gluten free biscuits for the base. I use Arnott’s Rice Cookies (supermarket biscuit aisle) and use approximately 90g of butter as these biscuits are shortbread-like and don’t require much butter to bind.
2. Recommend using 500g of cream cheese if making as per the recipe above.
3. Use 375g of cream cheese if adding melted chocolate (150, maybe 200g?).
4. I substitute vanilla paste or bean for the vanilla essence.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
sassy's jamaican kitchen
376 St Georges Road, Fitzroy North
www.sassyskitchen.com.au
A pre-birthday dinner on a Saturday night, and a (relatively) new Caribbean restaurant to try out. We head out to Sassy's Jamaican Kitchen in Fitzroy.
The reviews online are consistent and favourable: be prepared to wait, but the food is fantastic. We arrive not long after eight to a less-than-half-full restaurant: maybe eight or nine other diners scattered around a spacious room, sparsely decorated with Jamaica posters and yukka plants, and with a gentle reggae vibe in the background.
Our waiter - the only waiter - offers us chilled water and promises to return with glasses for our bottle of Chandon. In the end, we pour our bubbly into our water glasses. The menu is sparse but enticing. Apart from a few vegetarian starters and mains, there is a choice of fish or chicken, both jerked. Curried goat is on special. In order to try everything, we choose jerk chicken to share as a starter, then one jerk fish and one curried goat.
An hour passes. Happily, I am in good company, and the conversation flows. Most of the other diners leave. Others arrive and leave with takeaway boxes of food, which is fascinating as we have not heard a phone ring once. Sassy himself comes out and starts to clear tables. I wonder why he is not cooking our food, or perhaps whether our order has been lost.
Finally, after almost an hour and a half, our starter arrives. Two pieces of barbecued jerk chicken, a generous dollop of yellow vegetable curry and an upside-down bowl of rice and peas, with a couple of piping-hot sideplates to eat from. To be honest, it is not the best start. The chicken is not heavily seasoned at all, not with chilli, not with anything much. It has either been well over-cooked, or cooked earlier and carelessly re-heated. The vegetable curry is actually quite tasty, and without it the rest of the dish would have been far too dry.
Moments after taking our plates away, the main courses arrive. The same upside-down bowl of rice and peas accompany each dish. The curried goat is not off the bone as confirmed, but it is pretty delicious. Not at all spicy-hot, but very well seasoned and very slowly cooked. Pity there is not more of it. The two smallish pieces of jerk fish are delicious too, one more spicy than the other to my taste. Again, without the vegetable curry this dish would have been far too dry, but overall it was enjoyable.
The rice and peas are a disappointment. The rice is far too dry, and the peas are kidney beans. Would have been good to see proper gunga or pigeon or even azuki peas used. And despite the diners being in single digits all night, we still have to list for our waiter what we'd eaten so he could make up our bill. He tells us this is his third night working here, and it's the busiest night so far.
Nonetheless, it was a pleasant evening. Not sure that I would hold Sassy's up as a perfect example of good Caribbean food: it needs a bit more chilli heat and a bit more care in both food preparation and service to get better marks. Maybe even a bottle of pepper sauce on each table so customers can adjust the heat of their food to taste.
That said, I get the best Caribbean food at home all the time so I know I am fortunate.
Will it be a regular haunt? Not sure if we would ever hop in the car and take a twenty-minute drive across town for any of the dishes we ate. But at $46 for two (not including $5 corkage which we think they just forgot) it wasn't a bad night's value.
www.sassyskitchen.com.au
A pre-birthday dinner on a Saturday night, and a (relatively) new Caribbean restaurant to try out. We head out to Sassy's Jamaican Kitchen in Fitzroy.
The reviews online are consistent and favourable: be prepared to wait, but the food is fantastic. We arrive not long after eight to a less-than-half-full restaurant: maybe eight or nine other diners scattered around a spacious room, sparsely decorated with Jamaica posters and yukka plants, and with a gentle reggae vibe in the background.
Our waiter - the only waiter - offers us chilled water and promises to return with glasses for our bottle of Chandon. In the end, we pour our bubbly into our water glasses. The menu is sparse but enticing. Apart from a few vegetarian starters and mains, there is a choice of fish or chicken, both jerked. Curried goat is on special. In order to try everything, we choose jerk chicken to share as a starter, then one jerk fish and one curried goat.
An hour passes. Happily, I am in good company, and the conversation flows. Most of the other diners leave. Others arrive and leave with takeaway boxes of food, which is fascinating as we have not heard a phone ring once. Sassy himself comes out and starts to clear tables. I wonder why he is not cooking our food, or perhaps whether our order has been lost.
Finally, after almost an hour and a half, our starter arrives. Two pieces of barbecued jerk chicken, a generous dollop of yellow vegetable curry and an upside-down bowl of rice and peas, with a couple of piping-hot sideplates to eat from. To be honest, it is not the best start. The chicken is not heavily seasoned at all, not with chilli, not with anything much. It has either been well over-cooked, or cooked earlier and carelessly re-heated. The vegetable curry is actually quite tasty, and without it the rest of the dish would have been far too dry.
Moments after taking our plates away, the main courses arrive. The same upside-down bowl of rice and peas accompany each dish. The curried goat is not off the bone as confirmed, but it is pretty delicious. Not at all spicy-hot, but very well seasoned and very slowly cooked. Pity there is not more of it. The two smallish pieces of jerk fish are delicious too, one more spicy than the other to my taste. Again, without the vegetable curry this dish would have been far too dry, but overall it was enjoyable.
The rice and peas are a disappointment. The rice is far too dry, and the peas are kidney beans. Would have been good to see proper gunga or pigeon or even azuki peas used. And despite the diners being in single digits all night, we still have to list for our waiter what we'd eaten so he could make up our bill. He tells us this is his third night working here, and it's the busiest night so far.
Nonetheless, it was a pleasant evening. Not sure that I would hold Sassy's up as a perfect example of good Caribbean food: it needs a bit more chilli heat and a bit more care in both food preparation and service to get better marks. Maybe even a bottle of pepper sauce on each table so customers can adjust the heat of their food to taste.
That said, I get the best Caribbean food at home all the time so I know I am fortunate.
Will it be a regular haunt? Not sure if we would ever hop in the car and take a twenty-minute drive across town for any of the dishes we ate. But at $46 for two (not including $5 corkage which we think they just forgot) it wasn't a bad night's value.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Ciuccio
Shop 9 Salamanca Square Hobart
http://www.ciuccio.com.au/
It's not often you get 28C in Hobart of an evening, especially this time of year. It is a lovely stroll down along the waterfront to Salamanca Place early on a Friday evening with the town coming alive, the tall ships moored alongside crowded seafood restaurants, the lights beginning to twinkle across the bay.... and a stinking cold.
Never mind.
Salamanca Place is buzzing. It appears you have to be male, under 35 and wearing a brand-logo teeshirt to get into Irish Murphy's - or at least to be permitted drink a pint outside on the pavement. The Aurora Australia - the big red Antarctic survey vessel - is gone for the summer, the gap on the quay filled with gleaming white motor boats. Gangs of students congregate beneath the trees along Salamanca Place, drinking god knows what from polystyrene cups and otherwise being incredibly civilised.
I wander past the crowds outside Barcelona and James Squire. It's amazing how the young Taswegian women take advantage of a rare balmy evening: most of those outfits would result in hypothermia on most other nights of the year.
Despite the warm evening I am convinced it cannot last. A friendly waitress Ciuccio finds me a table for one inside, tucked between a strangely-matched American couple and a more conventional Australian one. I settle in with a glass of d'Arenberg The Footbolt and my Kathy Reichs novel.
My cold battles with my appetite. Virtually nothing stops me eating as most of you will know, but for fifteen minutes I flick backwards and forwards between gourmet pizzas and a predictable but enticing list of pasta and primi dishes. I have been told the gamberi pizza is off tonight. Contrarily, it is the one thing I crave.
I settle for a rocket, pear and parmesan salad to start, and a prawn risotto to follow. In the end my choices are directed by what I can eat with one fork as I hold a large paperback in the other hand.
The rocket salad is huge but very well balanced. I jab forkfuls of ripe pear, slices of parmesan and rocket leaves drenched in a blue cheese dressing. Most of the walnuts are a casualty of my
clumsy forkmanship and get left behind. So far, so Friday night.
A second glass of The Footbolt heralds the arrival of my main course. I hadn't thought the risotto would be tomato-based and I am immediately disappointed, but convenience triumphs over first impressions and I dig in.
The risotto is... fine. More than tasty. Rice pretty well perfectly cooked. Decent number of prawns. A good smattering of wilted spinach. It lasts me four chapters and I can't complain.
The sights and aromas from other dishes passing by to other tables indicate that this is a decent place. I can only conclude that my cold has numbed my taste buds to the point where everything just tastes ordinary. Everybody else looks thrilled with their food.
My waitress hits just the right balance between pleasantries, eye contact and efficiency. Despite the growing queue at the bar waiting for tables, I never feel rushed. I wander back out into the warm air of the evening, and marvel at the people still dining outside on the square, apparently unaware of the latitude.
The fairy lights on the trees twinkle as I saunter back to my hotel and an early night. As I leave Salamanca Place, the first raindrops start to fall. By tomorrow morning it will be back to more normal Tasmanian spring weather, and we shall have to wait quite a few more weeks for another Friday night like this.
http://www.ciuccio.com.au/
It's not often you get 28C in Hobart of an evening, especially this time of year. It is a lovely stroll down along the waterfront to Salamanca Place early on a Friday evening with the town coming alive, the tall ships moored alongside crowded seafood restaurants, the lights beginning to twinkle across the bay.... and a stinking cold.
Never mind.
Salamanca Place is buzzing. It appears you have to be male, under 35 and wearing a brand-logo teeshirt to get into Irish Murphy's - or at least to be permitted drink a pint outside on the pavement. The Aurora Australia - the big red Antarctic survey vessel - is gone for the summer, the gap on the quay filled with gleaming white motor boats. Gangs of students congregate beneath the trees along Salamanca Place, drinking god knows what from polystyrene cups and otherwise being incredibly civilised.
I wander past the crowds outside Barcelona and James Squire. It's amazing how the young Taswegian women take advantage of a rare balmy evening: most of those outfits would result in hypothermia on most other nights of the year.
Despite the warm evening I am convinced it cannot last. A friendly waitress Ciuccio finds me a table for one inside, tucked between a strangely-matched American couple and a more conventional Australian one. I settle in with a glass of d'Arenberg The Footbolt and my Kathy Reichs novel.
My cold battles with my appetite. Virtually nothing stops me eating as most of you will know, but for fifteen minutes I flick backwards and forwards between gourmet pizzas and a predictable but enticing list of pasta and primi dishes. I have been told the gamberi pizza is off tonight. Contrarily, it is the one thing I crave.
I settle for a rocket, pear and parmesan salad to start, and a prawn risotto to follow. In the end my choices are directed by what I can eat with one fork as I hold a large paperback in the other hand.
The rocket salad is huge but very well balanced. I jab forkfuls of ripe pear, slices of parmesan and rocket leaves drenched in a blue cheese dressing. Most of the walnuts are a casualty of my
clumsy forkmanship and get left behind. So far, so Friday night.
A second glass of The Footbolt heralds the arrival of my main course. I hadn't thought the risotto would be tomato-based and I am immediately disappointed, but convenience triumphs over first impressions and I dig in.
The risotto is... fine. More than tasty. Rice pretty well perfectly cooked. Decent number of prawns. A good smattering of wilted spinach. It lasts me four chapters and I can't complain.
The sights and aromas from other dishes passing by to other tables indicate that this is a decent place. I can only conclude that my cold has numbed my taste buds to the point where everything just tastes ordinary. Everybody else looks thrilled with their food.
My waitress hits just the right balance between pleasantries, eye contact and efficiency. Despite the growing queue at the bar waiting for tables, I never feel rushed. I wander back out into the warm air of the evening, and marvel at the people still dining outside on the square, apparently unaware of the latitude.
The fairy lights on the trees twinkle as I saunter back to my hotel and an early night. As I leave Salamanca Place, the first raindrops start to fall. By tomorrow morning it will be back to more normal Tasmanian spring weather, and we shall have to wait quite a few more weeks for another Friday night like this.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Seddon Deadly Sins
Sunday breakfast, and time to drag ourselves away from our usual haunt, Cafe le Chien in Seddon. Orlando is convinced that equally good but cheaper breakfasts are lurking, so we explore the competition.
Seddon Deadly Sins is tucked away opposite the Greek Orthodox church on Victoria Street in Seddon. It looks pretty small with a few tables outside from which to watch the pre-wedding antics of the people across the road, and a handful of tables inside by the kitchen. But there are tempting little signs on the back door, one to a vine-filled courtyard and one to The Good Room upstairs (no kids allowed).
We sit in by the kitchen and watch the action. Teas come quickly but we have to ask for strainers. The cups and saucers are not pristine: they are freshly washed, but all have tannin stains on them. Yet again, I have to explain to a waitress that providing more hot water does not allow me to control the strength of tea to my liking. Only using less tea leaves will ensure weaker tea. Why is this so hard to understand?
We order something close to our usual. I have scrambled eggs with side orders of mushroom and roasted tomato. Orlando chooses the Spanish eggs - two poached eggs in a skillet, topped with a spicy tomato salsa and chorizo sausage, served with toasted Turkish bread and a side of bacon. The bacon is laid on top of the skillet so the salsa makes it a bit soggy, but it looks good and smells amazing. O is happy enough. My breakfast was perfectly fine, but the scrambled eggs were not as lovely as Le Chien's (probably because they are not laced with vast quantities of butter). As I am on a health kick, it's probably just as well.
One serious downside is the music. We like laid-back weekend music with our late breakfasts: a bit of The Jam or The Stranglers, maybe some Corinne Bailey Rae or old soul. What we get is slightly-too-loud unrecognisable rock. It sets me on edge and suddenly I am ready to leave. The bill is $34 - $6 less than Le Chien.
Will we come back? Yes - we'll give the place one more try. The owner is really friendly and the staff are pretty responsive. Next time we'll try The Good Room or the courtyard, which might make the dreadful music a little less intrusive. But I can't see it becoming a firm favourite.
Seddon Deadly Sins is tucked away opposite the Greek Orthodox church on Victoria Street in Seddon. It looks pretty small with a few tables outside from which to watch the pre-wedding antics of the people across the road, and a handful of tables inside by the kitchen. But there are tempting little signs on the back door, one to a vine-filled courtyard and one to The Good Room upstairs (no kids allowed).
We sit in by the kitchen and watch the action. Teas come quickly but we have to ask for strainers. The cups and saucers are not pristine: they are freshly washed, but all have tannin stains on them. Yet again, I have to explain to a waitress that providing more hot water does not allow me to control the strength of tea to my liking. Only using less tea leaves will ensure weaker tea. Why is this so hard to understand?
We order something close to our usual. I have scrambled eggs with side orders of mushroom and roasted tomato. Orlando chooses the Spanish eggs - two poached eggs in a skillet, topped with a spicy tomato salsa and chorizo sausage, served with toasted Turkish bread and a side of bacon. The bacon is laid on top of the skillet so the salsa makes it a bit soggy, but it looks good and smells amazing. O is happy enough. My breakfast was perfectly fine, but the scrambled eggs were not as lovely as Le Chien's (probably because they are not laced with vast quantities of butter). As I am on a health kick, it's probably just as well.
One serious downside is the music. We like laid-back weekend music with our late breakfasts: a bit of The Jam or The Stranglers, maybe some Corinne Bailey Rae or old soul. What we get is slightly-too-loud unrecognisable rock. It sets me on edge and suddenly I am ready to leave. The bill is $34 - $6 less than Le Chien.
Will we come back? Yes - we'll give the place one more try. The owner is really friendly and the staff are pretty responsive. Next time we'll try The Good Room or the courtyard, which might make the dreadful music a little less intrusive. But I can't see it becoming a firm favourite.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
mmmm pizza
Late home from work, I rustle up a quick home-made pizza in less time than it takes to order from Pizza Hut.
Half a garlic Afghan bread, a squirt of pizza sauce, a few chopped-up mushrooms pan-fried to dry them out a little, quarter of an onion finely chopped and barely sweated in the pan, one green chilli and one tomato, a good handful of Weight Watchers grated cheese and a generous swirl of Ischian herbs from the Bay of Naples.
Into the oven, out 15 minutes later, Bob's your uncle. The perfect comfort food, and all for less than 6 Weight Watchers points (if that means anything to you).
A glass of Rutherglen durif and House on the TV, and that's a perfect Wednesday evening for me.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
feeding the five thousand
... well, the hungry team of five, anyway. We have our team meeting on Tuesday at a secret (and cheap) beachside venue. I have volunteered to feed us and our esteemed guests for lunch. We are the Red Cross, and voluntary service is fundamental to us. Plus: I get to choose what we eat.
With two coeliacs and one vegie amongst us, I am challenged to make a single meal to suit all. India comes to the rescue, as always.
A huge pot of brown and red lentils simmer away whilst I make up a very large quantity of tempering for my dhal and chole. I fry some black mustard seed in a generous lug of olive oil until they pop, add chopped tiny green chillies and cook until they smoke (they're hotter that way), then in goes the holy trinity of cardamom, cloves and star anise. Last, a generous helping of garam masala, garlic and turmeric.
A pile of chopped onion gets fried quickly in a hot pan. The trick is to fry the onion well before you add anything to it.
I fry a mound of chopped mushrooms, small quantities at a time so they get nice and crisp rather than soggy. I add them to my onions. In goes chopped Roma tomatoes to sweeten the mixture.
Half of the tempering and the onion/mushroom/tomato mixture goes to make the basis of Charmaine's dhal, and half to my chole. Not traditional, but I am a fan of the incidental consumption of vegetables. I add more chole masala to my pot of chickpeas: I can't figure out what other spices are in this masala but somehow it makes the difference.
When both are cooked and simmered and well settled, I decant into containers and stir some fresh spinach leaves into both. I shall serve sprinkled with kasoori mehti, accompanied by plenty of Afghan bread, gluten-free wraps for the Gluten Girlies, lime pickle and yoghurt. And of course, a plate of freshly-grilled jerk chicken breasts for the non-veg people amongst us.
Home-cooked goodness, healthy, low-fat food, cheap as chips, idiot-proof recipes. Perfect.
With two coeliacs and one vegie amongst us, I am challenged to make a single meal to suit all. India comes to the rescue, as always.
A huge pot of brown and red lentils simmer away whilst I make up a very large quantity of tempering for my dhal and chole. I fry some black mustard seed in a generous lug of olive oil until they pop, add chopped tiny green chillies and cook until they smoke (they're hotter that way), then in goes the holy trinity of cardamom, cloves and star anise. Last, a generous helping of garam masala, garlic and turmeric.
A pile of chopped onion gets fried quickly in a hot pan. The trick is to fry the onion well before you add anything to it.
I fry a mound of chopped mushrooms, small quantities at a time so they get nice and crisp rather than soggy. I add them to my onions. In goes chopped Roma tomatoes to sweeten the mixture.
Half of the tempering and the onion/mushroom/tomato mixture goes to make the basis of Charmaine's dhal, and half to my chole. Not traditional, but I am a fan of the incidental consumption of vegetables. I add more chole masala to my pot of chickpeas: I can't figure out what other spices are in this masala but somehow it makes the difference.
When both are cooked and simmered and well settled, I decant into containers and stir some fresh spinach leaves into both. I shall serve sprinkled with kasoori mehti, accompanied by plenty of Afghan bread, gluten-free wraps for the Gluten Girlies, lime pickle and yoghurt. And of course, a plate of freshly-grilled jerk chicken breasts for the non-veg people amongst us.
Home-cooked goodness, healthy, low-fat food, cheap as chips, idiot-proof recipes. Perfect.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
ebi footscray
Round the corner from us, less than a hundred paces away, is a florist, a little convenience store and what used to be a traditional fish and chip shop. The chippie closed down a while ago, and not surprisingly either: we were never able to find it open for business.
In the same spot opened Ebi, a Japanese fish and chippery as it calls itself. Time and time again we meant to try it, and in the past few weeks we've managed to become almost regulars.
In the bleak midwinter, Ebi is a little oasis of red light. At lunchtime or in the evenings, you will be greeted with a smile and a cup of hot Japanese tea while you wait for your order. The bento box with pork belly is carefully put together and presented, even on a quiet midweek afternoon. The calamari, like the pork belly, is perfectly cooked: chef stood over the fryer for less than a minute and dispatched beautifully cooked salt-and-pepper calamari worth travelling across town for. The prawn gyoza were nicely presented in a bamboo boat with a little takeaway dish of soy sauce.
The following week, I go back in the evening time for the same calamari. The red lanterns glow in the dark, inviting you in to the little shop where John and his team welcome all-comers and dish out the best of J-style cooking.
Having spent a bit of time in Japan and not being a huge lover of its food, I still like this little place around the corner with its fresh dish of the day, proper chips and freshly-prepared bento boxes. I can imagine wandering around the corner come summer, glass of wine in hand, to maybe eat dinner at the kerbside tables and bring al fresco dining to this corner of the inner west.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Torbreck Woodcutter's shiraz 2008
What a welcome home. I will hardly need dinner: there's eating and drinking in this wine. Concocted purely from blackberries and not from grapes, if I'm not mistaken. I close my eyes each time I take a mouthful to make sure I don't miss anything.
Now I'm really looking forward to Mena's birthday trip to the Barossa. There is a wine tour company there called Life Is A Cabernet. With a name like that, who could resist?
fill up on wine
I just spent three weeks in Ireland, enjoying the availability of lots of wine I don't normally see: Argentinian, Chilean, Spanish, Italian, French. We can of course get non-Australian wines here, but the range in your average off-licence can be limited, a bit like the range of Australian wines you can get in Europe. So back in Ireland I loved quaffing lots of Chilean merlots, French Côtes du Rhônes, and excellent Spanish riojas, tempranillos and valdepeñas.
Back in Dan Murphy's yesterday, I was re-stocking my woefully empty shelves. This picture was taken of Dan's fine wines section. The rest of the warehouse is full of cheaper wines, beers and spirits stacked high.
You can see from the signs that the wines are displayed in order of state of origin. Along the walls are foreign wines, mostly French and Italian, fortifieds (both domestic and foreign) and rarer, more expensive bottles.
The wines lying flat on floor display are then stored below on the square shelves for selection. Each of those display bottles is a different wine from a different producer. It took me over two years to venture outside the three or four aisles of local Victorian wines: why would I? There are literally dozens of wineries within an hour's drive of my house.
I am fortunate to know the owner or chief winemaker of a handful of wineries personally. I am always tempted to return to their familiar wines but I make a concerted effort to try new bottles, especially after the Melbourne Food and Wine Show when we have the chance to try lots of new producers.
This time I chose half a dozen durifs from Rutherglen - three Campbells and three of The Bruiser. I threw in three bottles of my weekday favourite, Tar and Roses, a Heathcote shiraz (well, it's Mount Macedon next week and their over-the-counter selection isn't fantastic). Then I went completely mad, ended up in the South Australia aisles and selected three Torbreck Woodcutters shiraz from 2008, which has superstar written all over it. Can't wait.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
punjabi kitchen king masala
We are lucky enough to have a great Indian supermarket nearby in West Footscray. Along with freshly-made vegetable samosas, Hindu statues, Bollywood DVDs and Indian crisps and snacks, I can pick up proper Parachute coconut oil for my hair, rose water for my face, karahis and masala dhabas for the kitchen. And, of course, whatever spices I want.
One of my favourites is Punjabi Kitchen King Masala, which I picked up one day without knowing what it was. A mixture of coriander, chilli, turmeric, cumin, dal, fenugreek, pepper, salt, cardamom, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, mustard, garlic, mace and asafoetida, it has a really decent kick to it without additional chilli, and turns your food a lovely golden colour.
Mangal do a good one but there are other brand names around. Perfect for barbeque season, you can marinate fish, shellfish or meat for literally a few minutes and they chargrill up a treat.
For lunch I quickly tossed some black mustard seed into a hot pan with some olive oil, added some fresh tiger prawns and kitchen king masala when the seeds started to pop, then threw in some quartered cherry tomatoes in there when the prawns were cooked. I served it all up with some fusilli pasta instead of rice, but if I'd had some naan bread nearby that would have been perfect too. It was ready in less than three minutes. Divine.
One of my favourites is Punjabi Kitchen King Masala, which I picked up one day without knowing what it was. A mixture of coriander, chilli, turmeric, cumin, dal, fenugreek, pepper, salt, cardamom, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, mustard, garlic, mace and asafoetida, it has a really decent kick to it without additional chilli, and turns your food a lovely golden colour.
Mangal do a good one but there are other brand names around. Perfect for barbeque season, you can marinate fish, shellfish or meat for literally a few minutes and they chargrill up a treat.
For lunch I quickly tossed some black mustard seed into a hot pan with some olive oil, added some fresh tiger prawns and kitchen king masala when the seeds started to pop, then threw in some quartered cherry tomatoes in there when the prawns were cooked. I served it all up with some fusilli pasta instead of rice, but if I'd had some naan bread nearby that would have been perfect too. It was ready in less than three minutes. Divine.
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