This particular place (which shall remain nameless for the sake of it’s owners reputation) has been having what some might call the “golden luck” in the run-up to it’s launch just a few weeks ago. A full feature article on it’s chef/owner in the local rags, a quick t.v snippet the other night and… as it has had the good grace of opening its doors during auckland fashion week: a nice long string of local and international celebrats (spelling intentional) to grace its fine floors upon open night. All pretty special attention for a small, tucked away, 30-seater downtown. So imagine my suprise to the response I got when ringing for a reservation just a few weeks after launch night:

Nah, not too busy tonight… just pop in any time before 10pm

Pardon? Not too busy? Even back on the home-front we had a good set of bookings tonight! And this… of all the places in the world to be “not too busy” on a Saturday night, this was the last! This required some thorough investigating!

But so it was! We arrived at 9 to find, well… nothing! From the hustle and bustle of main street we passed through the (very beautifully carved oak) front doors to find a virtual sanctum of peace – not in the good way – waiters polished the already polished cutlery, kitchen staff could be seen out back quietly shuffling soup ladles (along with other such life-or-death type duties) and our golden boy? The chef/owner taking the charge for all of this? I spied him limply propped upon the bar, glass in hand staring dolefully into its contents. In total “hot restaurant had 5 customers, including us.

So how was dinner? P-E-R-F-E-C-T-I-O-N! This place does some of the best and most imaginative culinary artistry I have seen in Auckland (and with the way this industry is cramming up with “artist/chefs”, that’s one hell of a compliment), I hesitate to describe the meals for fear of outing this establishment but, lets just say: I had pork, better than I had ever had pork and my date felt likewise about her chicken. This place really was 5 star and all for a measly $160 dollars? (that’s a bottle of wine, 2 mains, desserts and coffee) I mean, this place really was impressive. And so in the same stroke, utterly baffling in its tranquility.

What could have possibly gone wrong? Food poisoning? Terrorist threats? Twilight zone type customer abductions? I couldn’t make sense of it all. And so a week later, whilst out at another bar (I must try not to start all my stories this way) upon spying our aforementioned golden boy, cradling an almost empty whiskey in the corner booth, I took the chance to find out…

First off, what a bloody nice man (let’s call him Mickey for now). I was struck, during our conversation, that i’d never met such a genial and well intentioned bloke in all my time in kitchens (not that long I know, but given the usual high staff turnover: that ends up being a LOT of people!). Mickey was more than happy to accept my offer of a drink and more than forthcoming in regards to his thoughts upon his grand new venture. And the truth was? Mickey didn’t know either! Apparently it went something like this:

So where did that leave us? Week four looked to be shaping up the same and, with all the pro bono goodies provided at launch coming up on the bills, our Mickey had every right to look damned nervous!

Some background on our boy: a much celebrated underling to another local famous name, Mickey had worked his way up through his masters many successes before deciding to strike it out on his own, he had the experience, the image, the location and to top it all off the kind of publicity money would have a hard time buying! So why was it all going pear shaped? (his words, not mine) In the end I put it down to a case of early wobbles and bid him the best of luck. I meant it too, I’ve been back a couple of times since with friends, as well as some of my own regulars (Mickey’s place is on the opposite side of central and so does not really fall into that evil “competition” basket) I even flicked him a function a few weeks back when some clients of mine started to get a bit fussy over food requirements (his skills vastly outnumber my own, so it was only fair). And now? Things seem to be getting a little better, bit by bit Mickey’s building up a solid clientele and all going well, we may see him round for some time yet. Looks like it just might have been a case of the wobbles, but jesus, that’s one hell of an experience to go through on your first week.

Which brings me to my point (finally! I hear you say)

This is no industry for pussies

Sometimes, without any explination, things can go wrong, horribly wrong. In this industry, more than any other, we put our livelihoods on the line and in the faith of the the great general mass (that’s you, our customer). Nothing can prepare you for the nail-biting roller-coaster ride of opening your first premise, praying for customers, praying for staff, praying for a good take! It’s not typically an industry of plan b’s.

If your thinking of getting in with all of this there’s one very special quality you must have acquired:

BALLS

(not a gender specific comment of course)

Shuna Lydon puts it best in her latest post on eggbeater (I hope she wont mind me re-posting this bit here)

The lists grow, the people wring hands, take up smoking, drink coffee for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Tempers simmer or boil or sear or steam a soft hot burning shadow. Pressure tightening like a happy python.

do you know who you are?

Friends fall away, phone-calls go unanswered, home fridges empty, significant others take a seat on the shelf next to bills and laundry. Demands get begged, purveyors wish you could lose their numbers, cooks hear a shortness in our voices we can barely control.

are you strong enough?

What seemed important a few weeks ago is no longer. Sleep is merely a replay of the day before or the day to come. Numbers get crunched, staff learns new words, tastes new foods, and we are expected to know that we all know the same amount: absolutely nothing.

suit up or shove off.

People get a talking to. Egos get spanked. Hard. We nip attitudes in the bud, with our fists. Communicating language is clipped, succinct. Deadlines come and go. We attempt to reign in the chaos but it grows evermore out of our gripping hands, like slippery fish. T’s get dotted and I’s get crossed. People disappear, never even attempting to collect their checks.

pinch yourself. where are you?

I love it, so eloquently put, thanks Shuna! Hope the opening goes well.

-James

It’s a bit of a secret at the moment but, keep an eye on this space, rise is about to start branching out a wee bit more…

Oh, there’s also a few more post/rants/recipes and lists in the works. Expect a deluge any day now! Many thanks to all those who have dropped by and a special thanks to three lovely people who have added me to their own blogrolls! I’m honoured and flattered.

My love to all

James

p.s- not helping is the fact that my “old” (only 5 years) macbook pro DIED on me this-morning! I’ve picked up a cutesy new mac book (bloody small screens, so i’m back on the go but, no photoshop!

I don’t know about where you are, but in Auckland (New Zealand) we seem to be just coming off the end of a three year love affair with the garlic mayonnaise, otherwise known as aioli. We’ve been spreading it, dipping it, drizzling it and practically drinking the stuff! It’s been pretty much the only option with frites anywhere you go and even some of the more (how can i put this nicely) “scum-bucket” type of establishments have begun putting this tasty little treat on the menu.

Now, everyone’s got their own way of treating this one, but the recipe below is mine (by various appropriations, credit to all who have added small bits and pieces along the way) I’ve kept it close to my chest now for quite some time now but, seeing as things now seem to be changing in direction within our local industry, I feel I can now safely let this little gem out into the wild.

Oh, a quick note: I’ve lost the charger for my usual camera somewhere so this blog’s images had to be taken with my cellphone (the lovely new blackberry 8100) and tampered with later in photo shop, please excuse the quality (or lack of it), to make up for it, I tried out a new “step-by-step” set of photo instructions for this post. Do let me know what you think!

AIOLI

As you will probably gather, this is an extremely easy recipe, when the instructions are followed correctly, however, the thing that places some aiolis above than others is that time tested mantra of cooks everywhere “the quality of the produce!”. For this reason I have tried to outline what you should look for with each step, in regards to your ingredients. Remember it may cost a wee bit more, but the higher the quality of what you put in – the higher the quality of what you will receive (one of life’s greatest mantras).

• 5 Large eggs
• 1 Decent head of Italian (flat-leaf) parsley (roughly 30gm)
• A small handful of garlic cloves (peeled)
• 30ml Vodka or other white spirit (barring white rum, anything but horrid rum!) [30ml = a double shot]
• 1 Fresh lemon
• 1 litre oil (canola or sunflower is good, definitely not olive or soya)
• A big pinch of cracked (or New York cut) pepper
• A big pinch of salt
• 1 Good blender or food processor (magimix has to be one of my all time favorites here)

To start off, make sure your blending tool of choice is good and dry (remember, oil and water don’t mix too good!). Now chuck the following ingredients into the chamber (is there a better word for the “processing” part of a food processor?):

EGGS: As always, these must be fresh, fresh and lastly FRESH! If you want to bring the whole organic/ free range argument into it; you will find organic eggs give you a darker, more vibrant yellow but, in my own experience, no discernible difference in taste to the end product. Of course I do not condone un-necessary cruelty to animals, i’m just saying I see very little evidence of the whole “happy chicken = happy eggs” thing so i’m not going to start judging you for it.

______________________________________________________________________

PARSLEY: This stuff is great for taking the sharper edge off the garlic (as mentioned next), it also adds a nice extra color that separates your aioli out from the crowd. Good Italian parsley will be soft to the touch with no blemishes or dry spots. However, if you only have access to the more common “crinkled” parsley, try using the stalks instead of the leaves ( sounds odd I know, but it has saved me once or twice in the past when the produce order hasn’t come through on time).

______________________________________________________________________

GARLIC: Of course, this one is all important! You don’t want that sharp tasting Chinese garlic usually found on supermarket shelves no!you want the real dea. Good garlic should be soft and not overbearing in flavor, making you aware of it’s existence, but not blocking out every other flavor. So how do you tell if you have good garlic? Simply rub a naked (peeled) clove vigorously between between your hands then sniff your palms. Bad garlic will give of a scent reminiscent of salt, whereas good garlic will give off a strong odour of… well… garlic (fancy that!).
______________________________________________________________________

VODKA: This one is a more recent addition to the mix (bad pun) a high alcohol spirit can help the overall texture but can also be used to add subtle flavors into your aioli. I’ve recently become a fan of using dry gin, though I can appreciate this might not be everyones cup of tea. So this is an area where you really have freedom to experiment, maybe start on smaller batches though, some of my own tests turned out, well… let’s just call it odd! (vermouth in particular).

______________________________________________________________________

LEMON: You need plenty of lemon juice in this one, so squeeze away!

A quick tip: if you’re not getting enough juice out of your lemon; try microwaving it on high for 20 seconds. The micro-waves cause the juice to expand, breaking their individual capsules and… hey presto! you got one juicy lemon!

______________________________________________________________________

BLENDING: Before you chuck the lid on, remember to throw in the salt & pepper. In regards to food processors with different blade options: use the sharpest blades you have, something like this should do the trick. Start the blender on high rotation and, once everything is sliced, whipped and combined start adding the oil. Timing is of the essence with this one, start VERY SLOWLY adding just a drip at a time until the noise of the blender changes ever so slightly (it sounds a bit like a gurgle). Now start pouring in a small, but steady flow, squeeze bottles are great for this as you can maintain a bit more control over the process. Slowly speed up and -when approximately half the oil is gone- stop your processor and check the consistency of its contents. At this stage things should be pretty viscous and saucy, great for salads, pizza toppings and other sauce-like uses. If there is a lot of seperated oil still floating around it means your aioli has split (*bugger) start over again and be more careful with your oil pouring.

If you want to thicken things up a bit, just chuck the blender back on high and add the rest of the oil. You can pour as fast as you like now, things are combined, they should stay that way. When you hear a second change in rhythm from your machine, switch it of and, again, check out its contents. You should now have a dip-like substance, great for pommes frites and spreading on sandwiches in fact, pretty much great for everything (barring a heart condition).

P.s – Add a bit of whole grain mustard to the mix if you want to “fatten” things up a bit.

ENJOY!

“Be wary the pig, for he has nowhere to go but up”

Almost everyone can recall the “first-day-jitters”, well, for the pig, life is one long first day! You’re the newbie, the last in the gate, no-one quite knows your name yet (in the pigs case, no-one really wants to) you’re there for one, and only one reason: “wash the dishes pig!”

Being the pig is were we all start out, it’s usually our first taste of grunt work and, more often than not, is our first taste of that wild world we all come to know as hospo. Don’t get me wrong, there are some great experienced pigs out there, but these guys and girls tend to have dropped the “pig” label long ago and simply become “part of the family”. The life of a pig is a simple one, you exist within working hours solely to perform three very simple tasks:

• Wash dirty dishes
• Clean up after everyone else in the kitchen
• and then, Wash more dishes

It can be a fairly disheartening experience, think of it like a kind of distorted initiation into your new profession. You probably have higher aspirations, dreams even, but these require that all elusive quality that every employment ad was seeking “experience” and you didn’t have any. Well, this is were you’re going to start getting some!

I always like job ads for pigs, they usually read something like…

Wanted: dish-hand for busy premise, must be punctual, starting rates, no experience necessary.

However in reality things should probably read more like…

Needed: new slave for regular punishment, if you’re ever late you will be dismembered, don’t even ask about the pay, welcome to your new hell!

Well anyway, you get the idea.

Being the pig, everyone is above you, but none more so than the general (we shall cover him later) he’s the big man of the kitchen (in saying man I am not intentionally leaving women out, things seem to get rather omni-gendered at this level) and, if you’re lucky he’ll just ignore you for the duration of your stay at the pot-sink. However should he take a liking to you (I use this phrase very lightly!) expect all kinds of hell! One particular general I worked under years ago liked nothing more, than to slide white hot pans at break-neck speeds from the hots to the pot sink ALONG THE FLOOR! The prerequisite “HOT PAN!” would be bellowed only milliseconds before the searing metal would come crashing into ones ankles, leaving lots of tiny little burns along one’s shins. Whilst morally deplorable, in practice it must be said that, if nothing else, this particular “gentleman” did teach me the value of good reflexes whilst working in the kitchen. There’s plenty more stories, just ask anyone who is or has ever been the pig.

So welcome! This is your freshman term. The best advice? Just keep your head down and, for the love of god, don’t ask about breaks! You are the pig today, if you’re good (or maybe, if someone else is bad) you could be something better by tomorrow.

P.s – Make sure you check back tomorrow for the next installment of “the truth about” this time i’ll be introducing you all to one of my all time favorite basics Aioli.

So we’re trying out some new things at the restaurant end of my business endeavors. Namely, pizza! Having never made a pizza in my life (bar a few “make your owns” using pre-frozen bases, uck!) I was a wee bit apprehensive but, after a bit of reasearch I decided to give it a go. The result can be seen above.

For the crust i just appropriated the bread recipe from earlier on, minus oil and salt (enough of that on top!) and, of course rolled the whole thing dead flat! I thought I might try a square pizza, I’ve seen them overseas before, but never here in New Zealand. It all turned out pretty well, don’t you think?

By the way: this one’s topped with:

• Kalamata olives
• Cheeses (mozerella, feta & edam)
• Spinach
• Fresh cut tomato
• Mushrooms

Plus of course, plenty of herbs and cracked pepper! For the base I simply took a tomato bisque we use in another dish and thickened it up by blending in more peeled tomatoes and lots of rosemary (a fair amount of simmering too!).

So we chucked the pizzas on the menu and all seems to be going pretty well, sold a heap last night, maybe it’s the start of a new thing for us…

I came across this earlier this-morning, so now I know where all those little scratches on my baking trays come from!

After talking about steak earlier today I remembered a great little trick I was once shown. When cooking steak to order, one of the hardest tasks has to be knowing what that damn fillet is currently sitting at! If I have 5 cuts sitting in front of me, all of different measures of “done-ness”, how do I tell which is which without actually cutting them open to check? (one hell of a no-no by the way)

Well here’s the simplest and quite possibly best method i’ve come across to date. Of course there are plenty of expensive gadgets and implements to help you out, but i’m proud to say this technique uses the two best implements any cook owns: his hands!

So here’s how its done: You see the picture in the title? Do that with your own hand. Now feel that plump muscle at the bottom of your thumb (so nicely pointed out to the left) feels juicy doesn’t it? Well funnily enough, this is (roughly) the same feeling as you get from pressing down gently on a rare steak! Brilliance! But it gets better…

If you move along and touch your thumb to your second finger, you will now get the rough “press-touch” of a medium steak. The next finger, in turn, presents a well done steak (boo!) and if you press your little finger? that my friend is one dead steak!

Of course cooking times vary with different types of meat and cut, I generally apply this to a 250gm sirloin cut. But feel free to have a play, it’s a great little system that’s definitely saved my bacon more than once or twice!

I was just going over some monthly reports the other day for the cafe when I noticed something interesting: 60% (approx.) of all steaks ordered are requested med-well to well done.

Why is this? Are we scared of a little blood? Has mad cow disease got us all in a paranoid tizzy? I’m dying to know (no pun intended) why we don’t seem to appreciate our meat products anymore.

Personally, I love a bloody steak, if you read my about section you’ll see that’s why I got into food in the first place! To me, a well done steak is just a dead piece of meat with all the flavor and life grilled out of it!

I’d like to quote a line from Bill Buford’s “heat” that i think captures my love affair with the bloodied steak perfectly:

It arrived, a steak 5 inches thick, sitting in a pool of blood. Dario started cutting it up with a pocket knife he carries with him and distributed slices around the table, until he grew impatient and tore off a chunk directly from the serving platter and speared it with his blade and ate it rapidly, re-enacting the evening’s earlier furious outsized chomping

Doesn’t that passage just stink of carnality? Just like a good bloody steak, it’s all about primal urges, blood lust and impatience.

There’s plenty more (comment below on your favorite reference to meat if you like) and it always seems to reference steak just the way I like it dripping with blood, barely touched by flame.

I’m not trying to change attitudes here but I might suggest one thing: next time you’re out to dinner and you decide to try the steak, try turning it down a notch if you usually go for well done, go for med-well (etc etc). You might just be surprised!

Excuse the rant, but why do so many cooks find hollandaise so difficult? How many times have I sat down to a Sunday brunch in some new eatery to find some semi-transparent goo dribbling off of my eggs benedict? Well, the answer is too many! So now, I feel I must do my part in combating this perilous plague of horrendous hollis by presenting you with mine own way… The truth about hollandaise!

This recipe was initially shown to me by a wonderful cook I worked under many moons ago (it may even have been my first hospo. job!) and, to this very day, I still use this recipe with very little variation in my own cafe. Now you may say, “sacre bleu! hollandaise must be hand whisked over heat to be “proper” (oh poo poo!) well, my answer is: show me a cook who has time to use the traditional method, and I will show you a cook with too much time on his hands! No, my (by proxy) recipe uses that all time favourite kitchen implement: the stick blender!

HOLLANDAISE SAUCE

• 5 egg yolks (organic eggs produce a thicker darker yolk which helps to avoid this catastrophe)
• 1/2 a block (that’s stick for the Americans) of full fat butter (it’s hollandaise, not exactly prime dieting material!)
• a pinch of salt
• a pinch of pepper
• 1 tsp. whole-grain mustard
• 1 whole lemon (extracted lemon juice is an option, if you must)

So, pretty simple really. Start melting your butter (re: zap it) and whilst this is going on, place all your ingredients into a cylindrical container. Now, the shape of this container is all important, you need something that will keep all of the ingredients close together whilst blending, but it must also be wide enough to allow your stick blender to get all the way to the bottom. I find a medium sized milk jug seems to do the trick best. So, once your butter has become fully liquid, take your stick blender and start to blend the contents of your container, once combined, pour just a slight drop of the melted butter into your container whilst continuing to blend.

You should hear a slight gurgle as the contents combine, this is good, pour just a little bit more butter into the mix. When you hear this begin to gurgle you should start to pour the butter in in a small but steady dribble. Continue to increase the flow (slowly) until just before you have reached your desired consistency (somewhere around the consistency of p.v.a glue, not a nice thought) but it must be stressed, stop pouring before you reach the solids in the bottom of your butter container (that’s the little white bits of fat), if this goes into your mix; it’s all over!

So there we go, just a few notes though to finish off:

1. Whole-grain mustard is not 100% necessary (I simply like the taste) and could be substituted for any other ingredient of choice (parsley is quite good, or maybe you could go the opposite route and add fresh garlic?).
2. Make sure you use your hollis reasonably soon after making it, firstly, it will taste better but, you probably also want to avoid the possible food poisoning that can come with leaving raw eggs out in the open.
3. Do not refrigerate your hollis! Its melted butter remember? You want it to stay melted.
4. This is, most obviously, one of the least healthy components to food you could ever hope to come across so, no it doesn’t have the heart foundation tick and no it probably wont help that heart condition either.

As always: practice makes perfect so keep giving this a go until you get it right. At that point it’s just like riding a bike, it will stay with you for the rest of your life!

Till next time…