Tomato

Plan B for burgers. Not Rockpool Bar & Grill

2009-07-06T02:45:50Z

Ever since I first ate the Wagyu burger at Rockpool Bar and Grill I’ve been touting it as the best in Melbourne. Each time I’m nearby, I drop in to the bar and sit silently munching burger in hand, sandwiched between blokes doing exactly the same (although I thought it was a bit dodgy that last time that two blokes in town for the rugby were drinking a NZ sauvignon blanc with their buns).

Apparently, the Sydney version is even better with a brioche-like bun made in-house. For my second lunch of the day last I tried it, recognised by a friendly face, Tim, at the bar.

Then the burger itself. The bun was good, and as a whole the flavours as remembered. But the experience was marred by gristle in the meat which I spat out. Worse, hard shards of burnt meat - charcoal - stuck between my teeth. For $18 I expected something better.

I also felt the bar itself, an annex off the main restaurant didn’t quite have the class of its Melbourne cousin, despite an elaborate display of glasses, which must take an elaborate process to clean.

Nevertheless within the hour I returned with Lorraine from Not Quite Nigella who changed my perspective on the burger altogether. First, there is the size. For a bloke it’s at the limit of what you can pick up and eat in your hands without a visit to the dry cleaners. For a petit woman, it is too big, a knife and fork job to prevent a face wipe and dry cleaning job.

Then she declares a better burger. And it turns out Justin North’s Plan B by Becasse has bested the best. The burger is smaller - easier to manage - and cheaper at $10 to eat in or take away, Lorraine tells me.

I screwed up by not trying that version. But if like me Plan A was to visit Rockpool Bar & Grill for a burger, it may be worth opting for Plan B instead.

Mark Best’s Marque makes its mark on Surry Hills and Masterchef

2009-07-03T12:55:20Z

Beetroot and foie gras macarons.

How decadent is this? It’s 9 pm on Monday night and we put ourselves in the hands of chef Mark Best at Marque for the 14 course degustation plus matching wines. It ends at Midnight with plate licking, my plate licking, leaving me some $250 lighter for what was a sensational evening.

I was egged on by Mel and Reem. But also I was trying to outdo somebody I’d met earlier that evening, Chocolatesuze, who has become a hero simply because she eats Adriano Zumbo for breakfast.

Really the only way I’m going to be more outrageous is to install chocolate fountains in our bedroom. I’ve ordered a white chocolate fountain for my twitter widow’s (twidow’s) bed side table and a dark one for mine. A milk chocolate fountain is to be installed at my desk, from where I have been conducting my Twitter conversation with @markbest.

And that is how come I came to his fine dining room of starched white linen. Meanwhile, Reem was keen having bumped into Best while he was standing outside the restaurant, tweeting in the street.

What we have is the nexus of modern food, ideas, technology and it turns out reality TV - he was featured on Masterchef tonight - all in one place. Our adventure into whimsy, art, flavour, texture and temperature kicks off with champagne and fairy light beetroot-pink macarons sandwiched together with a pate of foie gras. And with the fortunate juxtaposition of cleavage and meringue (above), it gives the impression of deconstructed nipples, which I believe is a world first.

Coffin Bay virgin Pacific oyster with grilled sea foam

It’s no surprise to see the famous chaud-froid (hot-cold) free range egg first put on the menu by Alain Passard in 1998, to whom Best gives credit on the menu. But the interpretation of foam, usually wispy bubbles that the faintest breeze would pop, is replaced by one as thick as shaving foam - the Noxzema brand to be precise. The idea is to eat the whole, the caramelized layer on top and the meaty oyster below, a dish - as are most here - with enough dimensions to confound Stephen Hawking.

Slow cooked pork jowl with spinach and Pacific oyster. Matched with 2007 Pierre-Marie Chermete “Les Griottes” Beaujolais, Burgundy

Next is a lesson in design minimalism, slices of scallop as thin as a banknote surrounding a scampi anglaise - scampi custard - scattered with fish floss and offset both visually, texturally and in taste by the unlikely but surprisingly good contrast of small bitter cubes of Campari introduced to the scallop/custard/floss continuum.

I’m going to let the pictures speak for themselves on my Flickr set. The ocean trout dish a play on deconstructing gravadlax and a counterpoint to what has come before and what comes next; a dish that I think is one of the highlights of the night in the mouth rather than in the eye - warm crab custard & frozen foie gras.
I’m anti foie gras in Australia, not for ethical reasons, but because the imported pasteurized or tinned stuff isn’t as good as the fresh. But this freeze dried dish won me over with its texture, that of melting chocolate.

The meat courses that follow are equally delicate and artistically seductive: duck, pork and wagyu. Each is satisfyingly, again in their multi dimensional way keeping my bouche, eyes and mind engaged.

So I’m at the end, the time the Tokay Martini arrived. You already known about the collision of my tongue with plate. And it’s a very a good thing.

Rutherglen “espresso”: Rutherglen Tokay, splash of Kahlua Especial 70 proof

My recipe for perfect porridge (and tight buttocks)

2009-06-27T23:54:16Z

Warning: unsubstantiated claims follow

Creamy porridge
1 measure of cheap rolled oats
1 measure milk
1 measure and a bit more water
A substantial pinch of salt

Cook slowly, for an hour or so. Serve with drizzled honey and milk

There is one secret I want to share with you. It’s the reason I’m not the size of Falstaff - or if you are into serial TV rather than theatre in the round - Hurley from Lost.

It’s the reason, aside from years of hard-core military style yoga, impersonal training and even a long weekend spent with the SAS, that I have buttocks tight enough to crack a walnut, ankles shapely enough to sport Manolo Blahnicks and a potted belly that only measures 38 inches in circumference.

It’s the reason that despite having spent nearly 20 years at restaurant tables accumulating unfortunate stains on my trousers, and ruining enough Hermès ties to pay for Matt Preston’s entire dressing-up box ensemble of cravats, that I can survive a surfeit of lampreys and have not suffered cardiac arrest.

Here it is: I do not eat modern, healthy slimming breakfast cereals. I would rather shred the box of a modern cereal and eat that that its contents, which I can only assume have been swept from the bottom of a hamster cage, dyed pink and encrusted with sugar.

My secret is porridge. It is my winter alternative to my summer diet of various permutations of fruit, plain yoghurt, honey and nuts.

Don’t waste your money on easy or quick oats that take only 150 seconds to cook. The same goes for brands, such as Uncle Tobys’ where you will be paying for the sponsorship of some gorgeous, broad-shouldered Aryan who has Olympian ambitions (and would rather be eating that most nationalistic of snacks, the ANZAC biscuit).

I buy the cheapest home brand rolled oats. And I cook them slowly, which is the key.

Get up early and get them going - boiling - on the stove top. Then place in a preheated oven at 90C or so.

Feed the dog. Try to avoid leaving the house in track suit pants or bright white trainers. Walk the aforementioned dog for an hour or so enjoying the morning light playing on Port Phillip Bay (or Sydney Harbour).

Return home, and serve with more milk and brown sugar - palm sugar or honey if it pleases you - and watch the inches fall away.

Thomas Keller talks Tomato

2009-06-23T10:56:55Z

Neil Perry (left), Thomas Keller and Heston Blumenthal (bald). Courtesy of the Melbourne Wine and Food Festival.

On the SBS Food site you can see my story on meeting Thomas Keller at the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival earlier this year. Like most chefs of his calibre, he is charming and practiced and I got a lot out of him in some 20 minutes, more than there was space for in my profile on him.

I’ve included some raw quotes from him below. And if you follow the link below you can hear the the entire 23 minutes I spent talking with him (minus my dumb intro of myself).

Thomas Keller talks about kitchen discipline, his philiosophy and the effect of the downturn on his New York restaurant Per Se.

On creativity and inspiration:

“Pure creativity doesn’t really exist. Everything is here. The world’s here. It was given to us by whatever means. Everything around you is here to use. And I think the biggest thing for anybody is to have a sense of awareness of where they are, where they are in the world, where they are in place and if you are aware of what’s around you in a constant way then you open up to inspiration. Inspiration is the key, it’s not creativity, it’s inspiration. So being being aware of what’s around you so that you can be open to inspiration and once you recognise that inspiration to be able to interpret it as something that’s meaningful for you. You can be inspired by anything. It doesn’t have to be something I see in the kitchen or something I read in a book, it could be anything. I could be walking down the street and see something and all of a sudden it’s a flash of inspiration and then it’s interpreted to something that is meaningful for me. In many cases it’s about food and it’s evolution. I think awareness, inspiration, interpretation and evolution are key components to what we as human beings call creativity.”

On the kitchen environment:

“Historically kitchens have been somewhat of an aggressive environment if you will and I certainly was raised in that kind of a kitchen. Many times things were very aggressive whether it was a chef or cook. And something I wanted to change in my kitchen was just that. We want to maintain a sense of respect, a sense of comradery, a sense of team. And I think that’s really the most important thing. Not to say that things don’t get emotional or things don’t get heated once in a while. We are in a kitchen and the chef is trying to give something to his guests and god forbid anything come between him and that guest whether a chef de partie, or a waiter or a captain or anything like that. It really is about getting everybody on the same page in the entire restaurant. The guest is our goal and we are trying to not only give our guests a great experience but give us a great experience. Us in the kitchen, us in the dining room, us in the entire restaurant. I think if we can treat each other respectfully and have a really good working relationship with everybody in all parts of the restaurant and its one that we feel comfortable in, one that we feel successful in. And ultimately one that we like to participate in. And if we are enjoying that partipation in our workplace, then we are going to do a better job.”

The big De Bortoli salami making porkathon

2009-06-23T01:29:42Z

Giving birth to salami.

Even before all my dirty pork talk on Twitter I was typecast as the salami guy. During the Melbourne Food & Wine Festival I hosted a discussion on salami with the big sausages from Don. It got messy with a late night on the town with a few of us and a couple of wide-girth extra spicy salami.

Then I’m invited to the salami making day at De Bortoli in the Yarra valley with guest, fellow twitterer and blogger Tammi as it happens who got her hands dirty with pig.

Ribs, simply seasoned with salt and pepper, aren’t much more memorable than when they come straight from the slaughtered pig to the BBQ to the mouth, gnawed at and torn at cave man - or woman - style. Hot chestnuts burnt our fingers and mouths. Last year’s Salami filled our bellies.

What astonished me is the interest in making salami and the slaughtering of pigs, in this case three porkers, fattened on acorns, called brick, stick and straw. I guess there is a movement back towards the origins of what we eat among genuine enthusiasts. Then there are the ones who just want to turn up for the ride or the booze.

I kept myself respectable, being paid to write a thing or two about the day despite a couple of pre-9am grappas, later a young sangiovase straight from the barrel, and strips cut from whole BBQ’d pig as well as last years salami.

Anyway, Tammi has the full story here. And you can see more of my unedited pics here.

Crappy Miele cooktops with knobs on

2009-06-19T02:18:12Z

See where the knobs broke.

Or should that be knobs off?
On the surface Miele is the brand to buy. It’s solid, doesn’t discount and sponsors most of the important food events. It is the backbone of the mobile kitchens at Prahran Market.

Then why am I left so angry by my stove top? Because it is really badly designed, has plastic knobs which broke off within a few months and because it costs about twice as much as, for instance, Smeg.

Miele also invoices direct so retailers can’t discount. But because I packaged it with a shitload of stuff, the retailer applied a discount to everything else. That means I didn’t pay full price for Miele (Yah boo sucks to you) anyway. This included my Qasair extraction system which is custom installed semi-industrial and which is probably the best you can buy. And I don’t say that lightly.

I’m not saying I expect the hob to be durable enough to survive cooking for several brigades of storm troopers invading Poland. But I do expect it to be robust enough to survive the vigourous shuffling of pans and the odd -okay, quite frequent - pot boiling over in the hands of a brigade of onefood wanker cooking for two.

On the plus side the hob has nice heavy trivetts and I’m sure if I was igeneous enough I could disable a modern day T-90 Russian tank with them.

There are several problems with my Miele hob. On the design the raised panel with the knobs raises the knobs too high, above the hight of a pan on the trivetts so when you pull the pan towards you it hits the knob knocking it off. Remember these are cheap plastic knobs and after several months of being knocked off plastic bits broke off so it is difficult to operate the knobs now.

The burners although seemingly robust are not. The rivets on one have corroded and the whole unit has fallen apart. What I’m cooking here is stocks and soups, not concentrated sulphuric acid or making home made explosives.

I regret leaving my Ilve in Sydney. But them Stephen Downes had problems with Ilve and on his comparatively low profile blog attracted some 27 comments from people griping about their stoves.

It’s a sad time that it is so difficult to find, outside Choice, any independent advice. Food glossies certainly don’t give this advice and that’s perhaps why they lost their way, because they have been led astray by big spending advertisers like Miele. Or Ilve for that matter.

The Abyssinian: freedom fighter food in Kensington

2009-06-12T08:34:27Z

There’s a lot to be said for ethnic restaurants. They usually offer big, cheap hearty meals often cooked from the heart.
They also often offer the chance to reacquaint oneself with monosodium glutamate, fluorescent strip lighting, surly service and dodgy lino.

Then there’s The Abyssinian (277 Racecourse Road Kensington, Victoria 3031, 03 9376 8754), run by two Eritreans, which has taken the genre to another level and avoided all the crap which is why it was packed out the night we were there.

First there’s the look. The bar could be from an exotic resort anywhere on the African continent. The wooden tables and chairs are simple and solid and look great. Meanwhile, the walls are backed with African paraphernalia. It really works.
I’m not the only one who thinks this. I was eating with my favourite viking, photographer and Photoshop guru from the land of ice who together with her fiance - an up-and-coming architect - who have an eye for such things.
The service is run by Vittorio Silvestro, who is an Italian Eritrean and brings great service to the restaurant floor and really cares whether or not we are enjoying ourselves.

Then there is the kitchen run by Rahel Ogbaghiorghi, a former freedom fighter who has made her home in Melbourne. What a story (I need to interview her).
The food centres around large dustbin lid-sized shared plates of either vegetable, meat or fish served either with flat or rolled Injera, a sort of giant savoury scotch pancake. It’s made by mixing a special flour with water and letting it ferment.
The idea is to rip of some bread and pinch up some food to eat. Not only does it save washin-up but I’m guessing some small corner of the environment.
Our starter for $6 was a huge portion of Melanzany, garlicky grilled cubes of marinated eggplant that come with chilli and rolled injera.
We followed with Hoswa, mixed vegetables with Injera ($17), slowly cooked cubes of lamb called Zighini ($18) and Goat on Kemmam Sauce ($20), slowly cooked with cloves and cinnamon with the outstanding spice cardamom.
The wine list fits with the vibe and the price of $117 for four bellyfuls and more than we could eat. Let me say that again, $117 for food and wine for four. A litre carafe or red costs $20 or $6 a glass and goes well with the dishes that we requested to be authentically spicy.
This is the kind of place that is really for this credit crunchy moment. It’s delicious and hearty, comes in huge portions and won’t break the bank - you could easily eat for about $20 a head which means I’m nominating The Abyssinian for Very Cheap Eats.

And I want to go back.

Carry on Gordon Ramsay

2009-06-10T06:28:40Z

On the bombshell that the Herald Sun is dropping the Gordon Ramsay cookery column on Tuesdays, the craggy-faced man arrives in town and we are invited to see him pre Tracey Grimshaw.

I reckon he’s wearing heel lifts in his trainers and looking a bit taller than when he was last in town, has a better hairdresser and highlights and has had a bollock-load of botox.

He forehead is more wrinkled than my scrotum and frozen solid. I didn’t see it move either in the exclusive LG enclosure or on stage.

The thing about Ramsay is that despite Channel 9 overcooking him three nights a week, he’s bloody funny in that cheeky naughty “sorry vicar” English Carry On movie way.

For the media he’d been prepped with what was basically a statement (see video) about the poor state of his company’s health, a clever move. Almost as clever as not answering questions, just circulating around the room and having his picture taken with a mainly female crew of journalists.

On stage he is a better stand-up comedian than either Steve Coogan or Dylan Moran. Coogan just isn’t made for the stage; Moran has sunk into child-bearing smugness, vomit.

Gordon tells the audience about his new show “Gordon Ramsay’s bedroom nightmares”. He jokes that his son should eat his carrots so his knob will grow big. And his daughters are told to eat their spuds so their tits would grow. Oh, and then he talks about the dog getting it’s lipstick out…I won’t say anymore as social workers could be reading. But I did get in trouble when I tried the same gags on some friends kids over the weekend.

And he can cook, and cook well and engage the audience.

The big surprise was that the audience was a bit less than half full for his opening gig. The crowd sort of roared. As far as I can tell nobody wet themselves and all knickers were kept strictly in their correct place. Later that evening I heard via twitter, they were giving away tickets.

Last time Ramsay was in town he did a secret gig at his mate Michael Lambie’s pub Lamaro’s. He was a lot of fun and I’m told when he arrived back at the Como hotel a gaggle of girls was waiting in reception.

This time I didn’t get a chance to ask cheeky questions. I didn’t get a chance to ask him about this hairdresser, the gay rumours or the rumoured Brazilian Transvestite deal with the News or the World.

But I had a lot of fun, more fun than Gordon will be having now his wife Tana has him on a tight leash.

Coming soon: Gary and George on video hint that Masterchef goes abroad to cook with truffles.

Stuff white people like: the very special food and beverage edition

2009-06-04T03:43:46Z

Admit it, these apply to you too.

The other week Christian Lander the author of the blog and now best selling bookStuff White People Like was in town.

Basically Stuff White People Like is a bit like Top Trumps for White People. I’ll trump you some Murray River Salt and an Ortiz anchovy over your iodised salt and a pilchard. The same goes for my imported Arneis ($75) over yours from the King Valley ($20).

Bearing in mind the readership of this blog, I thought you might like to know that Apple products, travel and Asian girls make the full list here.

White people it turns out also love Typos on Menus (and blogs I suspect).

I should possibly add irony, bearing in mind that it was lost on some people on my post for The Punch, which is also on this blog here.

This is list of food and beverage likes is extracted from the full list of Stuff White People Like.

1. coffee
5. Farmers Markets
6. Organic food
13. Tea
23. Microbreweries
24. wine
32. vegan/vegetarianism
36. breakfast places
42. sushi
45. Asian fusion food
48. wholefoods and grocery co-ops
54. Kitchen gadgets
63. Expensive sandwiches
76. Bottles of water
90. Dinner parties
112. Hummus
119. Sea salt

11 ways to spot a food wanker

2009-06-02T23:56:05Z

Typical. Just as the world peaked Paul Levi, the man who had no small part in bringing us the slightly dubious word “Foodie”, launches the Gastrosexual, a man with more dazzling kitchen tools than penile length.
I’ve never had much truck for foodies (although a few of you are okay). I’ve met too many who know nothing whatsoever about food. If you would like to see this variety you only have to watch Masterchef which is packed full of wannabes who mostly have no idea how to shop (cottage cheese with sun dried tomatoes) or cook (raw chicken, insipid tarte tatin) for that matter.
The Gastrosexual is pretty scary too although now thanks to the global financial crisis is an endangered species. I think I’ve seen a few at the Farmers’ market on a Saturday morning with the trendy haircut and sunglasses, the designer kid and a yummy mummy pushing a SUV-sized pram with sharp knives attached to the wheels.
The problem is that nowadays there is as much food wankerdom and wine wankerdom and both of the above contribute to these pandemics. And it needs to be stopped.
Here are the surefire signs that you have become a food wanker:

1 Only ever eat single origin chicken.
Yes, you insist on knowing the origins of everything you eat. “Oh is this Bangalow Pork/free range Barramundi,” you ask. Well, yes those vegetables are straight from the Werribee sewage treatment plant. “Oh, that’s okay then.” Can we all afford the $20 Louise Vuitton chicken nowadays? Perhaps it’s time to switch to the perfectly good $6.95 one at Coles.

2 Order only Spanish Jamon
What? “Is Don. Is no good?” You have to have Jamón Ibérico de Bellota made from the famous black Iberican pig which is fed (free range of course) only on fallen acorns in an ancient forest. But you lost your job in investment banking/advertising/property development. So you buy some of the cheaper Spanish stuff ‘cos Spanish is best. Sorry pal, but most of that ham is made from Canadian pig carcasses imported into Spain, cured and exported to gullible Australians. There is, if you look hard enough, plenty of good Australian small goods being made. But we are obsessed with everything European. The only thing worse than eating this ham at home is paying five times the price in a restaurant,usually somewhere around $1 a gram.

3 Shop at Farmers’ Markets
First there are the people (see above) and then there is the produce. Gnawed on apples, bullet hard peaches, some sort of Jam and/or chutney containing inappropriate ingredients, oversmoked bacon and weepy looking cheeses. And it costs more than the supermarket, where I have never yet trodden on dog shit.

4 Always drink unpasteurized milk.
Nuff said.

5 Only ever cook in expensive copper pots.
All the better if you’ve bought your a complete set of second hand copper pots from “a nice little man” in Provence, shipped them back to Australia at huge expense. All that to burn them making a truffle oil (a sure wankerdom sign) risotto in them.

6 You experiment with Ferran Adria style cooking and spherification.
The trouble is everybody who came round for supper went home with diarrhoea because you didn’t wash your hands or equipment properly. Here’s some news: Ferran Adria has moved on from spherification and foam. He is also a genius. You are more like Aaron from Masterchef who destroyed some peas only to reform them with added chemicals.

7 You have a set of Japanese chef’s knives with a “Damascus” blade.
Your knife skills are lacking though and you can’t even cut an onion properly. Then you sliced an apple which took on the onion flavour. Oh, and the first time you washed them they went rusty. That’s a bit embarrassing.

8 You own a $5,000 Pacojet.
This is a new-fangled machine that freezes and then finely shaves your “frozen matter” into the the occasional sorbet (unless you are a working chef). If it is so good then why do you have a 5 gallon tub of Blue Ribbon in the freezer?

9 You spent over $3,000 on a coffee machine.
Fair enough if you are into coffee. But this particular model is grey and plastic, a Saeco Primea Touch ($3,399), and looks like the dashboard of a cheap Mercedes. Couldn’t you at least buy something big and shiny with steam engine like controls for the same price? Opps, sorry your friend did. He can’t make decent coffee either?

10 Offal, offal and bones everywhere.
Who’d have though offal would have become so pretentious? Nobody really wants to gnaw on a discarded section of pigs anus. The same goes for fish or any animal bones or the hairy bits. Chicken breast or sausages please.

11 Take photo’s of your food
This is the most highly suspect practice of all. But at least you’ve learnt enough the switch the flash off and open the aperture for guerilla restaurant photography. The fact is that your friends are all feeling a bit embarrased about it and would love it if you would just put it away…I’ve been told.

This is my first column for The Punch. If you haven’t seen it, check it out now.