tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68629515358283495072024-03-13T05:30:07.169-07:00eat our way up high street projectClimbing the north face of Ruckers Hill, one restaurant at a timeMichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-86094581206030872452011-02-28T00:42:00.000-08:002011-02-28T01:45:37.737-08:00Goodbye High Street, Hello LunchAfter a few months without a post, you might have wondered "what ever happened to Eat Our Way Up High Street?"<br /><br />Well, you may not have wondered that much, but in the last few months there have been changes in the editorial office at <span style="font-style: italic;">Eat Our Way</span>.<br /><br />Michael has now eaten his way up High Street to his satisfaction and has popped off for lunch. More particularly, the <a href="http://lunchtimeillusion.blogspot.com/">Illusion of Lunch</a>. He'll be writing about food and other stuff. Mostly food, because what else is there to write about, other than cheese?Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-34026286960073679612010-12-06T01:38:00.000-08:002010-12-06T01:40:10.993-08:00Mixtape<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPytZUx8avI/AAAAAAAABGA/yaF5_BS59o4/s1600/photo%25287%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPytZUx8avI/AAAAAAAABGA/yaF5_BS59o4/s400/photo%25287%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547499491600132850" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Gingerboy. Go there. They have a big neon sign. It says, "Gingerboy".</span><br /><br /></div>In the early 16th century, the great Christian humanist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desiderius_Erasmus">Erasmus</a> railed against printers, those anarcho-informationalists of his day, that worked to<br /><blockquote>“fill the world with pamphlets and books that are foolish, ignorant, malignant, libelous, mad, impious and subversive; and such is the flood that even things that might have done some good lose all their goodness" </blockquote>I read those words and immediately thought of those who prattle and rant about food as though it was a religious experience while blogging about the most trivial of matters and expect a readership to be impressed by their delicate sensibilities and refined tastes.<br /><br />Not that I'm talking about anyone I know. *blushes*.<br /><br />Anyway, the last month has seen some mixed dining experiences, from the sublime to the, well, not sublime, and rather than spend 500 words per piece filling the world with words that were foolish, ignorant, malignant etc, I thought I'd cram a few into a single mix tape that you can play in the car or give to someone special as a taster of what "Eat our Way" is all about. Think of this as a touring melange of tastes and ideas.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gills Diner</span><br /><br />The night I went to Gills Diner I had my professional hat on, and was having dinner with a man considered to be a world authority on car parking. No, he doesn't park cars; he's studied the impact of car parking on cities - the financial, environmental and opportunity costs of car parking in our cities. Disclaimer - I was a guest of the extravagantly named 'Institute of Sensible Transport".<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPyra87fY8I/AAAAAAAABFY/WPYP0qw7tos/s1600/photo.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPyra87fY8I/AAAAAAAABFY/WPYP0qw7tos/s400/photo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547497320534205378" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Our local professor on the left. Car parking professor not in shot.<br /></span></div><br />Anyway, sensibility aside, Gills Diner is tucked away in one of Melbourne's hipster alleys and is appropriately hard to find. It's got a cool, ex-industrial feel and warm staff and the food is good bistro nosh. On a rainy Melbourne night I had pork belly with pan-fried apples on a bed of humorous little lentils and a couple of <a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2009/06/backyard-beer-3-ravens-or-two.html">3 Ravens</a>. The food was simple but perfect for the evening, while the conversation was focussed on the complexity of car parking and urban form. Note to self: two professors per meal is probably my limit.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Thanh Thanh</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPyrbaN5H4I/AAAAAAAABFg/dJuH_-FfJx4/s1600/photo.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPyrbaN5H4I/AAAAAAAABFg/dJuH_-FfJx4/s400/photo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547497328396017538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Meh<br /><br /></span></div>If it wasn't already <a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2010/09/pho-dzung.html">obvious</a>, I'm a bit of a fan of the old pho and other <a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2010/07/noodle-kingdom.html">noodle soups</a>. So in the ever continuing quest for the perfect pho, I dropped in to Thanh Thanh on Victoria Street in Richmond. I'd love to say they were great, but they weren't.<br /><br />The magic of pho is in the stock and the stock here wasn't up to much. It lacked depth, spice and most of all, magic. In summary, "meh".<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gingerboy</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.gingerboy.com.au/">Gingerboy</a>, like Gills Diner, is Cool, and although the alley it's tucked away in is larger and easier to find than that of Gills Diner, that just means Gingerboy focusses on being just a gem rather than a hidden gem.<br /><br />Gingerboy does wonderful, up-market versions of SE Asian street food without the humidity and with a greater range of cocktails. Dishes come in a potentially confusing (but well explained) mix of small and medium dishes, all of which had a complexity and a depth that comes with a blend of high-note herbs and the <span style="font-style: italic;">basso profondo</span> of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shrimp_paste">belachlan</a>.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPyrcBBvkCI/AAAAAAAABFw/1sEuMOJnlOU/s1600/photo%25285%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 396px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPyrcBBvkCI/AAAAAAAABFw/1sEuMOJnlOU/s400/photo%25285%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547497338814042146" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Silken tofu - the (almost vegetarian) bee's knees<br /></span></div><br />We started with Chinese cabbage and chicken dumplings, which had a beautiful, essential filling, although the wrappers were a little chewy. Small, salt and pepper spiced chicken ribs in a crisp, light batter were served with a blistering and wonderful sauce - the Kentucky chicken of the gods. The last of the small dishes was soft-shelled crab with a green papaya salad - wonderful, with a papery shell and a tart salad.<br /><br />Two large dishes finished the meal - a wonderful and rich salad of wagyu beef and soba noodles and some gentle kim chi (at least by kim chi standards!) and some beautiful silken tofu with mushrooms and XO sauce. This was the surprising and wonderful dish in its balance and complexity; almost the dish that could convert me to vegetarianism (except for the shrimp paste in the sauce).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPyrbtTut8I/AAAAAAAABFo/YWJqGaSC0TQ/s1600/photo%25283%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TPyrbtTut8I/AAAAAAAABFo/YWJqGaSC0TQ/s400/photo%25283%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547497333520775106" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Soft-shelled crab and papaya salad. Let's do this again!<br /></span></div><br />Gingerboy is the standout of this bunch - a small but perfectly formed restaurant with attentive staff and a intimate (yet busy) room and truly wonderful food. A keeper.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-72488711492524209982010-11-16T02:36:00.000-08:002010-11-16T03:30:36.053-08:00Alfio's<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wispfox/525653924/" title="Fairfield dog sculpture by wispfox, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/193/525653924_40720cf08e.jpg" alt="Fairfield dog sculpture" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">FIDO, courtesy <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wispfox/">wispfox</a><br /></span></div><br />Not in High Street perhaps, but a short ride away via traditional northern suburbs transport (Vespa or a <a href="http://hipsterhitler.com/">fixie)</a>, Alfio's Cafe is in Station Street in Fairfield, just up from the glorious <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/File:FIDO-Fairfield-Industrial-Dog-Object.JPG">FIDO</a>. Alfio's is a Fairfield stalwart and was one of the oldest of the current generation of cafes. It also hasn't changed much in years - it was much the same in <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hopkinsii/67312019/">2005 </a>and <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hopkinsii/134041551/">2006</a> (and indeed, the blackboard behind me in 2006 has exactly the same cocktail list).<br /><br />Alfio's is so much part of my mental landscape of Fairlfield that I wouldn't have bothered writing about it except that I've only just discovered they serve the best mega-breakfast in the northern suburbs. Not the best breakfast all up, but certainly the best mega-breakfast in the <a href="http://www.flickr.com/search/show/?q=full+english+breakfast&w=22089189%40N00&ss=2">FEB</a>-style.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TOJm3mq8mMI/AAAAAAAABFQ/Ri9pF55TcP4/s1600/IMG_0473.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TOJm3mq8mMI/AAAAAAAABFQ/Ri9pF55TcP4/s400/IMG_0473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540103597078649026" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Hail King George<br /></span></div><br />Alfio's call their mega FEB breakfast, "The George". It contained a pile of wilted spinach; a couple of poached eggs (slightly over-done); two slices of pale toasted baguette; some sauteed mushrooms (good but not spectacular); two halves of grilled tomato (good but with extraneous cheese on one half); a pile of crisp bacon (excellent!); a Hungarian-style paprika and garlic partly-cured sausage (brilliant!); and a lamb kofta (not a lot of flavour but cooked perfectly). It also had, buried underneath, a superfluous, freezer-bag hash brown. When I can work up the energy I'll rail against these, but honestly, who cares enough?<br /><br />Oh, and there were beans. Very good. Home made, not too light and not too stodgy either - Goldilocks beans.<br /><br />All in all it was, well, huge. Pretty damn good for a late breakfast verging-on-lunch. Oh, and the coffee is, and always has been, fantastic. Go there, but expect to see some of your work colleagues striding past in their Saturday morning finest. Well, that's what I saw, anyway.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-19503635790737588812010-11-16T02:22:00.000-08:002010-11-16T02:27:25.862-08:00Stephen Colbert Scooby SnacksMartha Stewart explains strangling turkeys to Stephen Colbert.<br /><br />Stephen Colbert mushes Devon/Berliner/Fritz/Baloney with tomato sauce and serves it on crackers.<br /><br />Stephen Colbert sucks the lapel of a 69-year old former stockbroker and jailbird.<br /><br />Watch it <a href="http://eater.com/archives/2010/11/11/stephen-colbert-shows-martha-stewart-the-snacks-of-his-childhood.php">here</a>.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-21665330465196553532010-11-11T00:22:00.000-08:002010-11-12T00:04:03.851-08:00China RedTechnology has come a long way since I was a small, innocent child. Tonnes of metal fly through the sky every day (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJN8Paj8I4g">mostly safely</a>); gamma radiation from <a href="http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2010/11/gamma-ray-bubbles-milky-way/">galactic bubbles</a> abounds; and people cheerfully wear clothes made of magical man-made fibres. At the same time, the intertubes have revolutionized our lives and information swirls endlessly through pipes, blessing us with almost instantaneous satisfaction and answers through tubes. Water, however, still comes in bottles.<br /><br />I only raise this because I have this great idea that's going to make me rich. I'm going to tell you, discretely, but you have to promise not to keep it to yourself.<br /><br />You see, it occurred to me that if everyone uses water every day, then surely it would be great if we had instant access to it, just like we have instant access to information. Indeed, what we need is some sort of "water internet". This "waternet" would be, like the internet, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EtOoQFa5ug8">a series of tubes</a>, but in this case delivering <span style="font-style: italic;">water</span>, instead of information, directly to our houses! It's a crazy, science-fiction idea (I know!), but perhaps one day it will be more than fantasy. Maybe in the future we'll be able to abandon bottled water for a "waternet", where water is delivered through "pipes". Maybe not in my lifetime perhaps, but hey, we can dream.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNvTdslRWFI/AAAAAAAABFA/pC0HLkGGpEM/s1600/IMG_0341.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNvTdslRWFI/AAAAAAAABFA/pC0HLkGGpEM/s400/IMG_0341.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538252673919309906" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">The future of dumplings is here already<br /></span></div><br />Of course, not all technology is fantasy. While the "waternet" eludes us, the great dream of a dumpling internet (the legendary "dumplenet") has already arrived. Somewhere in the world, the <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/Tim_Berners-Lee">Tim Berners-Lee</a> of the dumpling world is resting on his laurels and these laurels can be found at China Red.<br /><br />China Red is a small, tastefully discrete modern restaurant in a mall between Bourke St and Little Bourke, just off Melbourne's China Town and is truly a marvel of modern technology. While one day in the future we will surely be able to access the dumplenet from home, in 2010 we are limited to dumplenet cafes and China Red is at the forefront of this exciting phase of civilization.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNvTd8xFo_I/AAAAAAAABFI/sZ6g8lYHdk4/s1600/IMG_0342.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNvTd8xFo_I/AAAAAAAABFI/sZ6g8lYHdk4/s400/IMG_0342.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538252678263841778" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Spring onion pancakes. Donuts, but with onions and crisp.<br /><br /></span></div>Using the amazing touchscreen dumplenet technology, Miranda, Helen and I (early adopters all) ordered our dumplings "on screen"<span style="font-style: italic;"> and without recourse to human interaction</span>!! This felt both staggeringly modern and never too far from being exciting. Screens were touched; virtual buttons were digitally manipulated and food arrived shortly after, albeit delivered by humans rather than the robots I hoped for. You can check what you ordered at any time, with delivered dishes signified with a digital steaming bowl icon, while food you've ordered but is not yet delivered shows as a rather sweet animated chef cooking up a storm.<br /><br />We ordered spring onion pancakes which were exceedingly crisp and onionesque; green (snake?) beans with minced pork and chili; some chili oil dumplings; and some pot-stickers. The beans were wonderful and smoky, although the pieces of chili they were served with was staggeringly, blisteringly hot, while the chili oil dumplings were somewhere greater than good but less than spectacular. The pot-stickers (I know they had a proper name but I can't remember what it was) were also good, but no more, and came with a chewy and gelatinous wrapper.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNvTdaR404I/AAAAAAAABE4/bscRrd_dvh8/s1600/IMG_0344.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNvTdaR404I/AAAAAAAABE4/bscRrd_dvh8/s400/IMG_0344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538252669006173058" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Pan-fried dumplings (pot-stickers) and the blistering beans<br /></span></div><br />All up the food was good city lunch time fare. Good dumplings, but not great, with a bit of digital fun watching the little man on the screen. Go, have lunch and pay very little, but most of all marvel at the first fledgling steps of what will become the great and ubiquitous dumplenet.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-12098028586897854552010-10-15T03:32:00.000-07:002010-11-06T16:12:10.444-07:00Christmas in November - Reflections on PanettoneWell, Christmas is only months and months away so the shops are in full Christmas swing. Decorations that look like elves have been dropping LSD; hampers full of the stuff they didn't sell last year; and belt-fed plastic machine guns that fire whistling foam bullets in the toy catalogs (oh to be young again...).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNXgZo02bPI/AAAAAAAABEo/vCxLoA61WuQ/s1600/P1100288.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNXgZo02bPI/AAAAAAAABEo/vCxLoA61WuQ/s400/P1100288.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536578047982333170" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Panettone bread and butter pudding - the true spirit of Christmas on a plate<br /></span></div><br />Luckily, there is one aspect of Christmas that can't come soon enough, and that's panettone season. The smell.... The texture.... The bread and butter pudding..... So in the lead up to the festive season, here are a few thoughts from the gluttons at <span style="font-style: italic;">Eat Our Way</span> regarding this highlight of Saturnalia. These were all purchased from the local big-name supermarket.<br /><ul><li><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ital Traditional Panettone</span> - This was not a great way to start the season. This spoils Christmas as much as <a href="http://www.google.com/images?q=scrooge&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=eDa4TICwOYW9ccOf2LgM&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=8&ved=0CFIQsAQwBw&biw=2560&bih=1176">Scrooge</a> <a href="http://www.google.com/images?um=1&hl=en&client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla%3Aen-US%3Aofficial&biw=2560&bih=1176&tbs=isch%3A1&sa=1&q=grinch&aq=f&aqi=g10&aql=&oq=&gs_rfai=">McGrinch</a> and, quite frankly, it can $%$#@ my &^%$. Dry, only a faint smell and not much fruit, it completely lacked that overwhelming moist, boozy, vanilla-toasty smell that shakes you by the neck and says, "IT'S FUCKING CHRISTMAS!!!" Instead all it could offer was, "Christmas? Oh yeah, I bought you a sack of charcoal. By the way, it's your turn to take out the rubbish bins."</li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-weight: bold;">Buinissomo Panettone Classico</span> - My word, this is indeed the shizzle, as <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/Snoop_Dogg">Mr S Dogg</a> would surely attest. It looks as if Michelangelo had designed the packaging for Paris Hilton, as it comes in a cardboard Sistene Chapel of glory. Definitely better than the Ital, it offered fruit and a much more traditional panettone smell with an added citrus perfume. If anything, it erred slightly on the side of being a little <span style="font-style: italic;">too</span> moist, so that it compressed in your mouth. All up, very good and made a truly excellent Bread and Butter Pudding.<br /></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bauli il Panettone </span>- The curate's egg of a panettone; it had an excellent moist but open texture and was generous with the fruit, particularly the orange peel. It also had a lovely citrus scent which, although it was very appealing (pun intended), it lacked the overwhelming panettone aroma that the Buinissomo had. A delicious fruit bread but without that merged magic vanilla-toasty-citrus smell that makes panettone what it is.<br /></li></ul>But apart from eating it, toasting it and generally elevating a humble cup of tea to a religious experience, there's one thing you can do with panettone that takes it from a bread-based confection to the food of the gods. This dessert is truly salvation in a baking dish.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNXgZ99mqlI/AAAAAAAABEw/1G2LSaThMYo/s1600/P1100287.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TNXgZ99mqlI/AAAAAAAABEw/1G2LSaThMYo/s400/P1100287.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536578053656193618" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Bread and butter pudding<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Panettone Bread and Butter Pudding</span><br /><br />Take the best part of a panettone and slice it thickly. Toast it lightly if you can be bothered, but it's not necessary. Butter each slice lightly and spread with a favourite preserve - we use either the quince jelly or kumquat marmalade we make.<br /><br />Lay the slices in a buttered baking dish and cover with a rich custard mix - maybe 10 eggs to a litre of milk, with a few tablespoons of sugar and some vanilla.<br /><br />Allow it to soak for a few minutes before putting into a slow-medium oven until its almost firm in the centre and golden on top. Serve warm or cool, but not hot.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-68203841649329277902010-10-09T17:18:00.000-07:002010-10-09T17:45:56.863-07:00Cooking with AlAl is learning to cook, partly through school, but also with us as well as a great big dose of teaching himself and practicing. There are few things more satisfying than watching someone try cooking a dish for the first time, practice the technique, try the result and then comment sagely on possible improvements. If I sound like a very proud parent, I am, but I'm also trying to be restrained in my comment so I don't embarrass him out of the kitchen....<br /><br />He made Beggar's Chicken, something I've wanted to try since, well, I was probably about his age and saw it in a Women's Weekly cooking book. It looked magical, yet in my teenage mind was wildly profligate (throwing away a kilo of salt?) and required a lot of faith. Al, on the other hand, leaped after the briefest of looks and was well rewarded. In fact, we all were...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/15696196?byline=0" frameborder="0" height="225" width="400"></iframe><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span></div><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span>The result was worth the palaver. It looked roasted but was floating in juices and was the most incredibly tender chicken I've ever tasted, as though the meat fibers had been individually softened. The flavour was perfect - the smell of a little soy, ginger, spring onions and five spice wafted above the juices. It was truly wonderful.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TLELj1lCU1I/AAAAAAAABEg/OuQ-I87SIKg/s1600/P1100220.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TLELj1lCU1I/AAAAAAAABEg/OuQ-I87SIKg/s400/P1100220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526210928066057042" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Vanilla Slice - You'd have to drive a long way to get one this old school</span><br /></div><br />He also made a Vanilla Slice worthy of a country baker and last week made a goat curry (he has no fear). All wonderful, and I am hoping for much more.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TLELjCwzatI/AAAAAAAABEI/oQwXvCFrgDA/s1600/P1100183.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TLELjCwzatI/AAAAAAAABEI/oQwXvCFrgDA/s400/P1100183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526210914425203410" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Goat curry - rich and heady with fragrance. Everyone loved it (except the goat).<br /></span></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-12796333347931126192010-09-28T23:15:00.000-07:002010-10-03T01:08:34.956-07:00Hanuman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKg5HwNYcsI/AAAAAAAABEA/d7GlgBAVFVo/s1600/P1090486.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKg5HwNYcsI/AAAAAAAABEA/d7GlgBAVFVo/s400/P1090486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523727748332810946" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1DhdHrzI/AAAAAAAABDw/xNj7WEZ7dwI/s1600/P1090505.JPG"><strong></strong></a>A bit more than a year ago we started "Eat our Way" with the intention of capturing our thoughts about our local restaurants at a point in time before they became too popular, swanky and/or wanky. The deal was simple; I promised to focus on High Street and never use the word "authentic" and you promise not to complain about the humble scope of this blog.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1DcOIfEI/AAAAAAAABDo/q6r3LpiWS0M/s1600/P1090504.JPG"><br /></a>I say this really just to confess, in advance, that this time we're a little out of scope. No, that's not quite true; we're <span style="font-style: italic;">well</span> out of scope. We had a couple of days in Darwin last week and had a lovely evening eating great Nonya food at a place called Hanuman, and this is our humble record of that evening. Think of it as "<span style="font-style: italic;">Eat our Way goes Mad in the Tropics</span>".<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1CW8C3hI/AAAAAAAABDQ/LNZJPzBKBqI/s1600/P1090495.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1CW8C3hI/AAAAAAAABDQ/LNZJPzBKBqI/s400/P1090495.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522315882719796754" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Drinkiepoos<br /></span></div><br /><a href="http://www.hanuman.com.au/hanuman_darwin.htm">Hanuman</a> was just around the corner from our hotel and looked pretty fine from the street, and like everywhere wonderful in Darwin, it's open to the elements.<br /><br />We don't often start a meal with a cocktail, but then we're not often in a different city without children for a couple of days either. I ordered a Hanuman Martini, which was flavoured with a sweet green tea liqueur, while the <a href="http://textileseahorse.blogspot.com/">seahorse</a> had a Cosmopolitan. The martini erred on the sweet sidewith a clean fragrance, but the Cosmo was a damp and diluted squib - a pale, faded pink shadow of the Platonic Cosmopolitan, like 1980's office decor - pale pink and grey like a <a href="http://www.google.com/images?q=galah&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=SzCjTKqzJMOrceLlqYIB&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CDUQsAQwAw&biw=2560&bih=1176">galah</a>. Afterwards the seahorse did complain her ears had fallen off, so perhaps it wasn't <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> diluted....<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1CmSjkgI/AAAAAAAABDY/BNN3XkpwYn8/s1600/P1090498.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1CmSjkgI/AAAAAAAABDY/BNN3XkpwYn8/s400/P1090498.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522315886840746498" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Oysters in sweet little pots<br /></span></div><br />We ordered two entrees - oysters baked with ginger, soy and chili, and "Money Bags" - plump, fried wontons filled with a ginger-garlic chicken mousse. The oysters were intense and at the very limits of what I'm prepared to see happen to an oyster. They come in a beautiful terracotta dish, individually lidded in a sharp, hot sauce. There was still enough room for the oyster to shine through, but only just. Enjoyable, but not essence of oyster which is what I enjoy most in an oyster.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1DDvbxXI/AAAAAAAABDg/NGC2hsK2XTE/s1600/P1090499.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1DDvbxXI/AAAAAAAABDg/NGC2hsK2XTE/s400/P1090499.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522315894746498418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Moneybags of... chicken<br /><br /></span></div>The Money Bags were wrapped in a thin, crisp tofu skin and served with a sweet chili glaze. Plump, lovely and sweet, like... I could get into trouble now so I'll shut up.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1DhdHrzI/AAAAAAAABDw/xNj7WEZ7dwI/s1600/P1090505.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1DhdHrzI/AAAAAAAABDw/xNj7WEZ7dwI/s400/P1090505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522315902722748210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Hanuman Prawns<br /></span></div><br />Main courses were a coconut milk prawn curry that was unctuous, mild and warm and pork belly cooked with star anise and cinnamon. <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><strong style="font-weight: normal;"></strong></span>Both were fabulous on their own, although in retrospect they were both rich dishes with little spice, and choosing at least one dish with a bit more spark would have been a better idea. We also ordered roti, which was great, and raita which was a little sweet for my tastes.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1DcOIfEI/AAAAAAAABDo/q6r3LpiWS0M/s1600/P1090504.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKM1DcOIfEI/AAAAAAAABDo/q6r3LpiWS0M/s400/P1090504.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522315901317708866" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Pork Belly<br /></span></div><br />Hanuman served up the best meal I've had in the Northern Territory, which to a southerner might sound like a backhanded compliment, but I've had some fantastic south east Asian food in Darwin that had a freshness that would be hard to beat. Green papaya salad and oodles of rice noodles at various markets mean my northern expectations are pretty high and Hanuman met these.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKg5HmT9moI/AAAAAAAABD4/vvw7SNdYEj8/s1600/P1090555.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKg5HmT9moI/AAAAAAAABD4/vvw7SNdYEj8/s400/P1090555.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523727745676057218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">I didn't mention dessert - Black Rice Brulee. It was of the Gods.<br /></span></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-81455746614178020602010-09-20T03:33:00.001-07:002010-09-27T02:58:10.905-07:00ChowhoundI think it's only fair that at this stage in our relationship, dear reader, that I disclose certain <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">editorial</span> and research standards at Eat Our Way. Now, I know those who've been reading this blog for any length of time will find the suggestion that I have standards a little hard to fathom and may even dart off to re-read old posts looking for evidence of such. My general rule is that it takes a certain number of meals to justify an opinion, meaning a single adult journey to a venue generally requires a second validatory expedition before mere words are committed to type.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKBmgPw59YI/AAAAAAAABC4/EP7efZZEy4g/s1600/IMG_0283.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKBmgPw59YI/AAAAAAAABC4/EP7efZZEy4g/s400/IMG_0283.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521525847329731970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Because drinking at breakfast is cool yes it is shut up.<br /></span></div><br />In this case, however, I'm going to break that rule, largely because it will be a while before we get a chance to go back, and, albeit based on scant evidence, we will be going back. So, dearest reader, understand the limitations of my opinion but recognize that I'm going to have one regardless of what you think.<br /><br />I went with the smallest tribe member for a walk to the park (child exercise) followed by some a stroll up Ruckers Hill (adult exercise) to get some late Sunday breakfast. Chowhound is towards the top of the Hill on the western side, a short walk down from the town hall. It's bigger than many of its peers and is a pleasant, relaxed space that's not too high on the Wank Scale (where your lounge room gets a "zero" and sparkle laminex and mixed 1950's vinyl chairs gets an "8").<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKBmgasp-PI/AAAAAAAABDA/Gw4s-YBoFLQ/s1600/IMG_0285.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKBmgasp-PI/AAAAAAAABDA/Gw4s-YBoFLQ/s400/IMG_0285.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521525850264697074" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Beans, eggs, proscuitto<br /></span></div><br />So I ordered the baked eggs with baked beans, proscuitto and toast with a Bloody Mary while Will had Macaroni Cheese from the menu for kidlets.<br /><br />The beans were not the slow baked, rich, slightly sweetened and well cooked beans that I make at home, but were lighter, with firmer white beans in a fresh tomato sauce. Not what I was looking forward to, but not bad either - they were Kylie Minogue when I was expecting Wagner. The eggs were baked on top of these and were alright, but the yolks were a little harder than perfect and there was a splodge of uncooked white in the center. A quick stir into the beans fixed the white problem but the yolks were well beyond translucent and thus repair. The prosciutto was crisp, salty and thin. A not-at-all bad dish, although potentially improved by breaking the egg yolk into the middle of the dish where it will cook the least.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKBmgr0wgTI/AAAAAAAABDI/Jl8mE8ZDrqc/s1600/IMG_0286.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TKBmgr0wgTI/AAAAAAAABDI/Jl8mE8ZDrqc/s400/IMG_0286.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521525854862082354" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Macaroni cheese and boy<br /><br /></span></div>Will's macaroni cheese was generously cheesed, baconed and onioned. The onions in particular were golden and lusciously sweet, and the whole sticky ensemble was crunchily crumbed.<br /><br />Everything else was tickety-boo; the staff were helpful, it was quiet and generally relaxing. So in summary, while I can't speak definitively about Chowhound, I can speak positively enough to say we'll go back and try breakfast again.<br /><br />On the other hand, the name's a bit naff...Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-78932643799532151702010-09-17T14:33:00.000-07:002010-09-18T02:48:55.811-07:00Gold LeafThere's something fantastic about Gold Leaf in Preston and I mean fantastic in the true sense of the word. From the street, Gold Leaf is just a staircase at the end of a pretty grungy walkway that connects High Street with a car park, but once you step over the empty boxes, newspapers and freshly delivered bean shoots and climb those stairs, POW!<br /><br />Like walking through a wardrobe and discovering a winter wonderland, you step inside out of the gloom. Gold Leaf, however, is no monochrome land of restraint ruled by a White Witch; the decor in the foyer is straight out of Tom Wolfe's <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/The_Electric_Kool-Aid_Acid_Test"><span style="font-style: italic;">Electric Cool Aid Acid Test</span></a>. As if the <a href="http://www.google.com/images?oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&q=the+merry+pranksters&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=RuGTTOeQNNOVcfbV0KQF&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CDAQsAQwAw&biw=2560&bih=1176">Merry Pranksters</a> have driven their bus through Hong Kong on their way to <a href="http://www.moviemobsters.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/fear_and_loathing_cats.jpg">Las Vegas</a>, bold lighting, bright colours and revolving chandeliers mix with lobsters in tanks and an overall sense of chaos. At this point if the maitre d' turns out to be an octopus in a gold lame jacket you'd probably take it in your stride.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPwIPEhAaI/AAAAAAAABCo/Y4mTySzsJis/s1600/P1090223.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPwIPEhAaI/AAAAAAAABCo/Y4mTySzsJis/s400/P1090223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518017992734081442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Obey the dumplings</span><br /></div><br />Once you're past the entrance, the other surprise is Gold Leaf's sheer size - it's huge and there are far more people scarfing dumplings gathered together in one room than you would expect from the street. And while it's noisy and there are hard surfaces everywhere, it's not <span style="font-style: italic;">too</span> loud.<br /><br />Although Gold Leaf does yum cha/dim sum every day of the week, Sunday for me is The One True Yum Cha Day.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPuoFPMWGI/AAAAAAAABBo/lrrGM5I66hg/s1600/P1090199.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPuoFPMWGI/AAAAAAAABBo/lrrGM5I66hg/s400/P1090199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518016340827068514" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Dumpling-on-Dumpling Action!!<br /></span></div><br />Tea comes quickly (and is refilled often, as it Was Meant To Be) and within moments you're fighting off the trolleys. There's plenty of the normal fare done really, really well - steamed dumplings; seafood in all sorts of guises; gai lan; prawn wrapped in bean curd wrappers; scallops on tofu; little fried wantons and other crunchy parcels; and sheets of unctuous, pearly-white rice noodles with more seafood.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPupKHveJI/AAAAAAAABB4/EoNx3-aYyUk/s1600/P1090209.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPupKHveJI/AAAAAAAABB4/EoNx3-aYyUk/s400/P1090209.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518016359317862546" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">More please!<br /></span></div><br />For me the perfect yum cha experience has a mix of the new and the familiar, and "new" this time was slices of eel, cut like tiny fish steaks and cooked in a dark sauce. This was luscious and fatty with a sweetness to balance the fish.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPwGogCjLI/AAAAAAAABCQ/oIV13xr8LTg/s1600/P1090213.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPwGogCjLI/AAAAAAAABCQ/oIV13xr8LTg/s400/P1090213.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518017965200673970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">I can haz eel?<br /></span></div><br />In the "familiar" category, apart from dumplings upon dumplings, I have a soft spot for <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/Turnip_cake">turnip cake</a>. There's something wintry and comforting about these fried slices of bland daikon, studded with Chinese sausage, ham and spring onions, even if they looked like slices of congealed dishwater that have been shallow fried. Balanced with light, prawn dumplings and scallops on ethereal soft tofu, they make up the important stodge course.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPupkcn_5I/AAAAAAAABCA/5VVBSXpdl-s/s1600/P1090210.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPupkcn_5I/AAAAAAAABCA/5VVBSXpdl-s/s400/P1090210.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518016366384775058" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Turnip cake. Mmmmmm....<br /></span></div><br />And that's what yum cha (or dim sum) is all about - balance. It's the balance of chaos and comfort; the familiar and the unfamiliar; the steamed and the fried; the subtle and the spicy; the light and the filling. Of course, yum cha also requires that there are children running around tables, the noise is rambunctious and there's a four-trolley pile up threatening to cover you in steamed dumplings and gai lan. And, perhaps strangely, in the middle of this chaos on a Sunday morning I find a kind of peace and some time to contemplate my lot. There's a joy about yum cha that reminds me of how good life and family can be.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPwHkRtqHI/AAAAAAAABCg/mVaOBv3AiA4/s1600/P1090217.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPwHkRtqHI/AAAAAAAABCg/mVaOBv3AiA4/s400/P1090217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518017981246711922" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Emily and the octopus<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPwIY2ht3I/AAAAAAAABCw/1BjvT6lsGzA/s1600/P1090226.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TJPwIY2ht3I/AAAAAAAABCw/1BjvT6lsGzA/s400/P1090226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518017995359762290" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Alex dumples<br /></span></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-31377599155457036122010-09-11T18:20:00.000-07:002010-09-11T20:26:52.162-07:00A trip to Preston Market becomes PaellaSaturday at Preston Market. Mission: to make paella.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw58lyxYHI/AAAAAAAAA_s/5FhGVRhdJY0/s1600/P1090137.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw58lyxYHI/AAAAAAAAA_s/5FhGVRhdJY0/s400/P1090137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515847356722012274" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">We bought some fish...<br /><br /></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw7WCif59I/AAAAAAAAA_8/WUslLrkdZ8s/s1600/P1090142.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw7WCif59I/AAAAAAAAA_8/WUslLrkdZ8s/s400/P1090142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515848893446744018" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">...and some prawns....</span><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw8t9XspZI/AAAAAAAABAU/enpAFOYb84M/s1600/P1090149.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw8t9XspZI/AAAAAAAABAU/enpAFOYb84M/s400/P1090149.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515850403887752594" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">...and some mussels.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw5TT1JCzI/AAAAAAAAA_k/a71SYQbfJnw/s1600/P1090119.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw5TT1JCzI/AAAAAAAAA_k/a71SYQbfJnw/s400/P1090119.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515846647525477170" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Will was hungry...<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw5S5DJuhI/AAAAAAAAA_c/amQnWsDqJBQ/s1600/P1090129.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw5S5DJuhI/AAAAAAAAA_c/amQnWsDqJBQ/s400/P1090129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515846640336484882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">...so we had a slice of pizza for lunch.<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw59XLPfNI/AAAAAAAAA_0/kv3IBFCOY00/s1600/P1090138.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw59XLPfNI/AAAAAAAAA_0/kv3IBFCOY00/s400/P1090138.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515847369977986258" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">We said hello to some old friends...<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw7XJ28BiI/AAAAAAAABAM/1Qkc0IFedOo/s1600/P1090144.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw7XJ28BiI/AAAAAAAABAM/1Qkc0IFedOo/s400/P1090144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515848912591390242" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">...and met them again after they'd had a makeover.<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw8uiotoVI/AAAAAAAABAc/CTLfbnLVY7U/s1600/P1090158.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw8uiotoVI/AAAAAAAABAc/CTLfbnLVY7U/s400/P1090158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515850413891232082" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">I cooked some capsicums, garlic, bay leaves and onions with oil and smoked paprika...<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw7W1fCXgI/AAAAAAAABAE/9mNUpuuTxWY/s1600/P1090143.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw7W1fCXgI/AAAAAAAABAE/9mNUpuuTxWY/s400/P1090143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515848907122433538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">...which came from a cheerful tin.<br /></span></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw5S5DJuhI/AAAAAAAAA_c/amQnWsDqJBQ/s1600/P1090129.JPG"><br /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw8vPXLO0I/AAAAAAAABAk/1wnuvIs-_9I/s1600/P1090163.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw8vPXLO0I/AAAAAAAABAk/1wnuvIs-_9I/s400/P1090163.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515850425897270082" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Felicity's talking, suicidal prawn amused Will with his constant refrain of "rip my head off!".<br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw5S5DJuhI/AAAAAAAAA_c/amQnWsDqJBQ/s1600/P1090129.JPG"><br /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw8vVVhWKI/AAAAAAAABAs/pQwklHOjnoQ/s1600/P1090171.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIw8vVVhWKI/AAAAAAAABAs/pQwklHOjnoQ/s400/P1090171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515850427500943522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Some fish, browned chicken legs and browned chorizo went in the vegetables with the rice.<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIxE8E4nF3I/AAAAAAAABBE/7TFjEJV36lY/s1600/P1090177.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIxE8E4nF3I/AAAAAAAABBE/7TFjEJV36lY/s400/P1090177.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515859442516039538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Some stock and saffron went in and it simmered for a bit before I added the mussels, prawns and pippies.<br /><br /></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIxE8nQtfOI/AAAAAAAABBM/MQhovagWJ-o/s1600/P1090180.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIxE8nQtfOI/AAAAAAAABBM/MQhovagWJ-o/s400/P1090180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515859451743927522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">It was pretty good.</span><br /></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-61367423421170521482010-09-10T03:00:00.000-07:002010-09-11T20:42:10.354-07:00Shanghai City RestaurantShanghai City is a small, cheap, noisy Northern Chinese restaurant in the Preston end of High Street that specialises in dumplings and hotpot. Half the walls in the restaurant are given over to bain-marie filled with all sorts of meats, fishes, vegetables, noodles and other stuff and the idea is to help yourself and cook what you will in a simmering pot of soup on the table. I'm not usually a fan of restaurant DIY, particularly when I have no idea of the etiquette, but the staff cheerfully explained the procedure and so we happily gave it a go.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIoD5oOSiWI/AAAAAAAAA_U/JkhaA3iZygo/s1600/IMG_0265.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIoD5oOSiWI/AAAAAAAAA_U/JkhaA3iZygo/s400/IMG_0265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515224982253373794" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Shanghai City Restaurant<br /></span></div><br />We were given the choice between chicken soup, chili soup or a half-and-half pot that meant we could try both, and this we did.<br /><br />The chicken soup was flavoured with some floating dried herbs, flowers and seed pods I couldn't identify, but it was comforting and perfect, given the wet, cold wind outside. The chili soup on the other hand was a rich red colour, with more chopped chili in every scoop than I would normally eat in a week. It wasn't as hot as it looked, but it was still very, very hot.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIoD3Hh47dI/AAAAAAAAA-8/dZMqdHGZB8U/s1600/IMG_0261.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIoD3Hh47dI/AAAAAAAAA-8/dZMqdHGZB8U/s400/IMG_0261.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515224939117473234" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Soup to the left of me and soup to the right; here I am fishing around for some lamb<br /></span></div><br />We cooked fishballs, beancurd, pork, cooked lamb, cabbage, dried mushrooms, bean shoots and glass noodles in the soups and tried a few of the dipping sauces. There's a wide selection, although the waitress wasn't sure what some of them were called in English so I can't tell you what they were. The chili sauce (more chili!) was roughly cut and hot, and I think it might have been the same stuff that went into the soup. There was a peanut sauce, possibly a garlic sauce and other mystery sauces, including a dark green one that Emily described as "salty and fishy and a bit ummmm".<br /><br />The hotpot also came with some excellent spring onion pancakes which were flaky and crisp and a very generous plate of dumplings. These were glutinous with crisp, brown bottoms and filled with a juicy and rich pork mixture. The filling was unctuous - definitely cold weather food. They also have a range of other cooked dishes that don't require hotpotting and these looked pretty good for stuff in a bain-marie.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIoD38dSxhI/AAAAAAAAA_E/6pvJti4zaPo/s1600/IMG_0262.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIoD38dSxhI/AAAAAAAAA_E/6pvJti4zaPo/s400/IMG_0262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515224953325274642" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Spring Onion Pancakes. Crispy....<br /><br /></span></div>Now I'm no slouch when it comes to the old hot stuff, but I have never before eaten so much chopped chili. By the time we finished my bowl was almost half full of the chopped chili I hadn't eaten, and I suspect I ate at least the same amount.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIoD4p9o9_I/AAAAAAAAA_M/L3idzOXv7Us/s1600/IMG_0264.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIoD4p9o9_I/AAAAAAAAA_M/L3idzOXv7Us/s400/IMG_0264.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515224965540542450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Al cooks it<br /></span></div><br />Shanghai City is a fun place to have a comfortable, if slightly messy, DIY hotpot. The staff are cheerful and helpful and the food is great (hey, it's not like I can fault the cooking...) and generous. It was about half-full of people when we arrived and although it only got busier, it was never too loud, even with the Chinese soap opera playing on the telly. And best of all, it's quite a lot of fun.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-30706321031116916922010-09-04T16:02:00.000-07:002010-09-08T05:34:02.887-07:00Cheese Club Nine - Bride of the Son of the Revenge of Cheese ClubCheese Club returns for its ninth time, and frankly it was touch and go there for a few moments. A number of last minute withdrawals due to illness, morning sickness, hangovers and being in Malaysia (not all the same person) meant Team Cheese was a bit thin on the ground. This was exacerbated when co-host <a href="http://textileseahorse.blogspot.com/">textileseahorse</a> got <a href="http://textileseahorse.blogspot.com/2010/09/it-rained-and-it-rained-and-it-rained.html">bogged</a> in the country rains and didn't arrive home until well after kick-off. Luckily, quality counts for much and I was joined by <span style="font-style: italic;">Eat Our Way</span> stalwart <a href="http://www.essjay.com.au/">essjay</a> and Team Cheese star recruit, Dapper Del. So without a moment or skerrick of cheese to waste, let's hear from the cheese...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIM-TqgRk7I/AAAAAAAAA-A/FBdsz8jfyNc/s1600/P1080973.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIM-TqgRk7I/AAAAAAAAA-A/FBdsz8jfyNc/s400/P1080973.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513318876379714482" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">H</span><span style="font-size:78%;">oly Goat Batman! Let's put on our Batsuits and go rolling around in it!<br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Holy Goat Pandora </span>- Holy liquid cheese, Batman! From the outside it looks like a lot of the other surface ripened, white mould goats cheeses (like <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/S7MEyzxJmQI/AAAAAAAAAqw/bLw01RR_UeY/s1600/P1070250.JPG">this</a> one) but on the inside it's something else all together. In fact, it's little more than a gooey, liquid cheese poured into a white mould tube cunningly disguised as something more solid. When I cut the top off ours, as if for a boiled egg, the texture inside was like a thin pouring cream with a small floating centre that hadn't quite ripened. Cutting the side resulted in a torrent of cheese that required bread to sop it up. Beyond the cream the flavour was slightly sweet with a little mushroom flavour and without any goat tang. A cheese that demands an audience.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TINIOXxlthI/AAAAAAAAA-I/TqXf2UBFGl8/s1600/P1080999.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TINIOXxlthI/AAAAAAAAA-I/TqXf2UBFGl8/s400/P1080999.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513329780568995346" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Fromage de Meaux. Far, far better than a silk stocking full of shit<br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fromage de Meaux</span> - A cows' milk white moulder from Ile-de-France and like all great French cheeses, this Brie has a long and amusing history. Charlemagne praised Brie in the <a href="http://www.thenibble.com/REVIEWS/main/cheese/cheese2/whey/brie-camembert.asp">ninth century</a> and it was dubbed "the King of Cheeses" by the diplomat Tallyrand (a man famously described by Napoleaon as "shit in a silk stocking") in the nineteenth. This was a lovely Brie, but not as intense or salty as some of the other French white-moulders we've had (such as the <a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2009/08/third-rule-of-cheese-club-is-if-someone.html">Brie de Nangis</a>). A mild, rich flavour that's easy on the palate and doesn't require a whole lot of thinking. This is an introductory Brie, or perhaps a gateway Brie that leads the first-time taster to a life of crime to fund an obsession with the sterner stuff...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TILcRR7ciSI/AAAAAAAAA9g/kr3EDKHS_bg/s1600/DSC09848.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TILcRR7ciSI/AAAAAAAAA9g/kr3EDKHS_bg/s400/DSC09848.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513211083283532066" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">No, not "little monster"; Petit Munster. Same origin as "monastery"<br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Petit Munster </span>- Not, as one might have been led to expect, a small monster, but instead a modest washed rind cheese from the Alsace. Although Munster is considered one of France's more smellier cheeses, this was the pocket-size model that don't have quite the same terrifying reputation as its large-wheel bigger brother. This is not an overwhelming washed-rind biological weapon, but is a beautiful cheese with a luscious, smooth texture and a balance of washed-rind stink and sweet cream. It doesn't have the yeast/Vegemite smell that some of its friends-and-relations do, but would be the perfect follow-on from the Brie on the path towards cheese dependancy.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TINIPmaWA_I/AAAAAAAAA-Y/vjs5a1mGhG0/s1600/P1080997.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 362px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TINIPmaWA_I/AAAAAAAAA-Y/vjs5a1mGhG0/s400/P1080997.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513329801677898738" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Roy des Vallees, or we as like to call it, Master<br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Roy des Vallees</span> - On the surface this appears to be a modest semi-hard cheese ball, about as big as a cantaloupe, made from sheep and goats milk in the Basque-Pyrenees. But its modest looks hide the fact that this cheese is a supervillain in a cardigan; one which DEMANDS TO BE DESCRIBED IN ALL-CAPS!! THIS IS A BLOODY MARVELOUS, RICH, NUTTY, CARAMEL FLAVOUR THAT LASTS ABOUT SIX MONTHS IN YOUR MOUTH! BOW BEFORE THE CHEESE, YOU COWERING, INSIGNIFICANT MORTALS FOR YOUR TIME HAS EXPIRED! THE TIME OF THE BIG CHEESE HAS ARRIVED AND YOU PUNY WALKING HUMAN SAUSAGES WILL BE RENDERED DOWN FOR TALLOW TO SERVE YOUR LACTIC OVERLORDS! BOW!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TINIPCE7rpI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/X1u3pU8MBgQ/s1600/P1080995.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TINIPCE7rpI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/X1u3pU8MBgQ/s400/P1080995.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513329791924416146" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Sorry Cantal, you were nice but I was thinking about Roy...<br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cantal</span> - <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/Cantal_%28cheese%29">Cantal</a> is semi-hard cow's milk cheese from Auvergne. It's texture was somewhere between a not-too-old Cheddar and a Gruyere - tight and smooth but with a dense flavour that has just a little sourness to balance the nuttiness. This suffered a little by following the Roy de Vallees, but stood proud when taken on its own the next day. At the time we all nodded and spoke highly of the Cantal, but secretly we are all thinking about the Roy...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TILcR6aEm3I/AAAAAAAAA9o/oteCNt34ouo/s1600/DSC09852.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TILcR6aEm3I/AAAAAAAAA9o/oteCNt34ouo/s400/DSC09852.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513211094149405554" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Carles Roquefort<br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Carles Roquefort</span> - The Lord knows I'm not a religious man, but every time when we finish Cheese Club with a soft, buttery blue cheese I can't help think that is How God Meant It To Be. All good things should end with blue cheese, and this would be a fine Roquefort to finish many things; a meal for example, or perhaps a long evening of wine, or even a life. Without getting onto the morbid subject of deathbed cheeses, this would have to be on the shortlist (although, to be fair, my shortlist has about 20 cheeses on it). Creamy yet tart with both a sheep's milk tang and a powerful blue punch, this is a noble and powerful cheese; the sort that looks imperiously down on you from the back of a horse. You don't argue with a cheese like this; you just don't.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TILcSY665VI/AAAAAAAAA9w/LkEBVt740zw/s1600/DSC09856.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TILcSY665VI/AAAAAAAAA9w/LkEBVt740zw/s400/DSC09856.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513211102340244818" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Oh, and the mystery guest with the stripe? It's our old friend, <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/S7ME0Hj63FI/AAAAAAAAArA/KHaUHoOdfUU/s1600/P1070243.JPG">Fin Briard aux Truffe</a></span></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-71064336168785289312010-09-03T22:30:00.000-07:002010-09-03T23:14:16.258-07:00Pho DzungSo last night was a lot of fun but I did wake up feeling a just a trifle worse for wear. Even though I lounged around the house for most of the morning, rest was not enough and to properly shake this morning-after malaise only pho would suffice. So off we trotted to Preston.<br /><br />Pho Dzung is in the Preston end of High Street and is a cheap, unassuming Vietnamese restaurant with a healthy buzz and fast turnover. Like all the best pho shops, this one has a picture of a smiling cow and chicken in the window (which always reminds of me of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmjm2ol1O6c&feature=related">this</a>).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIHf5tsxi6I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/PQnqTWLmYcA/s1600/IMG_0256.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TIHf5tsxi6I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/PQnqTWLmYcA/s400/IMG_0256.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512933601491127202" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Pho with rare beef and beef brisket<br /></span></div><br />Not that buzz matters all that much - it's really all about the soup, and their pho ba is wonderful and restorative. The broth is rich, warm and fragrant with cinnamon and star anise; both the braised brisket and the rare beef slices were perfect; the noodles were as they should be; and the herbs and bean shoots were perfect to spark up the soup with both scent and crunch.<br /><br />As long as the basics are right, the strength of a good pho is in the broth, and the broth here is just what the doctor ordered, or would have if he'd had any sense. He doesn't, of course. But if he did....Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-20523180185751370452010-07-31T02:19:00.000-07:002010-07-31T16:46:39.640-07:00Voodoo Courtyard CafeVoodoo is an unassuming cafe towards the lower third of Ruckers Hill but just higher than Separation Street. With plenty of places vying for the "eclectic" label (damn their eyes!), Voodoo manages to be eclectic but comfortable, chaotic to look at and yet still relaxed. Others try hard but Voodoo just does its thing, and its thing is a vaguely Chinese look with lots of rich reds and gold framed mirrors and a comprehensive collection of what at <span style="font-style: italic;">Eat Our Way</span> like to call "crap" - knick-knacks, curios, carvings and tchotchkes.<br /><br />The Voodooistas are as charming as charming gets, well before charming gets weird.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TFSz9WJVLmI/AAAAAAAAA8s/zwa-oS2wLGA/s1600/IMG_0206.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 355px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TFSz9WJVLmI/AAAAAAAAA8s/zwa-oS2wLGA/s400/IMG_0206.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500218911424327266" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Vegie breakfast</span><br /><br /></div>The "Grazer" vegetarian breakfast was couple of perfectly poached eggs on a disappointingly fluffy half-bun but the spinach and mushrooms were as good as you'd like them. The grilled tomato had an unexpected spicy sheen which caught me unawares - lovely by all means but far hotter than its modest look suggested. Will's chicken sandwich was pretty good too (as far as sandwiches go) - the chicken had just been grilled and the bread was better than my fluffy stuff. Full marks for the coffee!<br /><br />Voodoo also has a tiny, narrow but very green courtyard out the back where we've enjoyed a lazy breakfast before. All in all a keeper.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TFS0WWdu3oI/AAAAAAAAA88/htHLH_RJCFY/s1600/IMG_0197.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TFS0WWdu3oI/AAAAAAAAA88/htHLH_RJCFY/s400/IMG_0197.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500219341006626434" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">What?<br /></span></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-9464794307959748912010-07-29T20:10:00.000-07:002010-07-29T20:27:13.143-07:00MaizeMaize is in the Thornbury Village section of High Street and is pretty typical of the small cafe/breakfast spots everywhere between Westgarth and Preston. Their menu is long and their coffee is good and they (like so many of their peers along High Street) pride themselves on using words like "organic" and "spelt" and "wholegrain". All good and all worthy.<br /><br />Some bits of this morning's breakfast were pretty good and worthy too. The cheesy scrambled eggs in particular were creamy, cheesy and light, although there was far too much for me. But this dish was, allegedly, huevos rancheros. Described as scrambled eggs with sausage and a tomato salsa, I'd expected it to come with a tortilla, not a couple of slices of damp wholegrain bread. The sausage was sliced kranksy (or sim), well grilled and nice enough. The tomato salsa, alas, turned out to be diced tomato with a few chives. Not in the slightest bit Mexican and not even in the most subtle way was it spiced. All in all this was scrambled eggs, sausage and diced tomato and I was disappointed.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TFJDNqLP2QI/AAAAAAAAA8k/DsDKj6S762M/s1600/IMG_0191.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TFJDNqLP2QI/AAAAAAAAA8k/DsDKj6S762M/s400/IMG_0191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499531996911622402" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Huevos Rancheros? Nope</span><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;">There's lots of competition for breakfast along here, and Maize didn't stand out as anything special. And I still want huevos rancheros...<br /></span></div></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-48046967431227306762010-07-24T20:33:00.000-07:002010-07-24T20:46:33.394-07:00Cafe TroyCafe Troy makes kebabs. Good kebabs. Kebabs on Turkish bread rather than wrapped in flat bread. Lots of lamb. Just enough garlic sauce that isn't overpowering. A little bit of chili if you want. Great kebabs. Did I say that already? The pides are ok too, but the doner kebab is fantastic. Great kebabs. I could go on...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEuzLJyfq7I/AAAAAAAAA7I/I8m_PuJu_D4/s1600/IMG_0153.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEuzLJyfq7I/AAAAAAAAA7I/I8m_PuJu_D4/s400/IMG_0153.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497684774323465138" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Great kebab... Did I say that already?<br /></span></div><br />Cafe Troy is only on High Street in a metaphorical and otherwise untrue sense. In the real world it's on the corner of Nicholson and Pigdon Streets in North Carlton.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-46196436559136576262010-07-23T14:37:00.000-07:002010-07-23T21:37:53.898-07:00Cheese Club Eight - Night of the Living Curds<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEpnbxRalSI/AAAAAAAAA64/DQMXIVdEuO0/s1600/P1080237.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEpnbxRalSI/AAAAAAAAA64/DQMXIVdEuO0/s400/P1080237.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497320021939623202" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">The gear<br /><br /></span></div>When a barman knows your name it's probably time to reflect on your life so far and wonder if the next few years should be quite as well lubricated as the last few (which, when you think about it, <span style="font-style: italic;">have</span> gone past in a bit of a blur). I was having similar thoughts earlier in the week when Parma at the cheese shop not only recognised me but called me by name. Yes, I realise that I know her name as well, but that doesn't really make it any better.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEpnbdMQfOI/AAAAAAAAA6w/P_B-JnpXU-c/s1600/P1080235.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEpnbdMQfOI/AAAAAAAAA6w/P_B-JnpXU-c/s400/P1080235.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497320016549280994" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Two of the Cheese Club 7<br /></span></div><br />Nevertheless, Cheese Club carries on and, like my cholesterol levels, is ever growing. This month the Cheese Club crew grew to seven, so there was no shortage of opinions and definitely no shortage of wine. Team Cheese was <a href="http://textileseahorse.blogspot.com/">textile seahorse</a>, Tom, Francesca, <a href="http://networkedblogs.com/60s8k">Dandy</a>, <a href="http://scottmightcook.blogspot.com/">Scott</a>, Eat our Way <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/S4zh0ZcLQ3I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/mZ2NKX4I9GU/s1600-h/P1070064.JPG">stalwart Elisabeth</a> and myself. The challenge was facing six Italian cheeses with no assistance except for some wine, bread, cornichons and a few biscuits.<br /><br /><i>Revolutionary biscuits of Italy,<br />Rise up out of your box,<br />You have nothing to lose but your wafers<br />Yum, yum, yum.<br /><br />(Alexei Sayle)<br /></i><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEpnas8QQVI/AAAAAAAAA6o/Q4XmjEug4xM/s1600/P1080234.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEpnas8QQVI/AAAAAAAAA6o/Q4XmjEug4xM/s400/P1080234.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497320003597254994" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Two more of the Cheese Club 7<br /><br /></span></div>So without further ado, and definitely without any further revolutionary poetry, we begin...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowJO6Va1I/AAAAAAAAA6A/1EZ_DmlE6I4/s1600/P1080223.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowJO6Va1I/AAAAAAAAA6A/1EZ_DmlE6I4/s400/P1080223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497259230338837330" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Occell- Tuma dia Paja - like the Easter Show, but flatter</span><br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Occelli Tuma dia Paja</span> - This is a humorously flat, striped white-moulder that looks like a Camembert that was sat on by a pig wearing corduroy. The texture was soft like a perfectly ripened Brie but not as dense, while the flavour was mild and rural. Scott described this as "smelling like the <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/Sydney_Royal_Easter_Show">Easter Show</a>" - a mixture of hay and farm animals, not surprising given these are ripened on straw. It's made from milk from cows, goats, sheep, ducks, sparrows and... sorry, got carried away there... No duck or sparrow milk, but it does have cow and goat, and the sheep milk was clearly evident. A very good cheese to eat before getting down to the real business of eating cheese.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowJ6KEzwI/AAAAAAAAA6I/htmfLUF3jNQ/s1600/P1080228.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowJ6KEzwI/AAAAAAAAA6I/htmfLUF3jNQ/s400/P1080228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497259241947582210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Ribiola de Grotto - the 1960 station wagon of packaging</span><br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ribiola di Grotto</span> - The most surprisingly <a href="http://www.mauri.it/Il_prodotto/Linea_Premium/Robiola_di_grotta/Robiola_di_grotta.kl">packaged cheese</a> I've seen yet. Wrapped like a bar of soap and then a layer of thin wood laminate on top and bottom, it looks like the lactic equivalent of an <a href="http://www.google.com/images?q=woody+car&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=5RNKTPK5OYGdccvksfUP&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CCYQsAQwAA&biw=2560&bih=1176">1960's woody station wagon</a>. A washed rind, cow's milk, this is one of the best washed -rinders I've tasted in a while. The texture was perfectly smooth with the slight crunch of salt(?) crystals while the flavour was salty and creamy but balanced with the bright orange pungency. Described as "excellent drinking cheese", as each salty bite needed a mouthful of wine.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowKouy0wI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/AFTtPmkWCfo/s1600/P1080230.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowKouy0wI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/AFTtPmkWCfo/s400/P1080230.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497259254449623810" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Occelli crutin tartufo<br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Occelli crutin tartufo</span> - Regular readers might get the impression we've gone a little truffle-mad here at <a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/">Eat our Way Up High Street</a> and honestly, it's hard to argue otherwise. This is a cylinder of truffle infused, semi-hard cheese made from cow and goats milk and it left us all reeling. Crumbly, and without the truffle it would be a nice enough - medium fat with a goat tang to finish with. With the truffle though... Phroaghhhhh.... Like a boardroom in a <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/Cocaine">1980's advertising agency</a>, we passed the plate around from nose to nose, snorting deeply and talking rubbish, such was the intensity of the aroma. Somebody said, "Christmas in July!" Truffles really need fat to help spread the love, and truffle-in-cheese can be even better than the otherwise madcap <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hopkinsii/4736957331/">truffle butter</a>. <a href="http://www.cosetoscane.com/html/det_articoli/FOPE0021/9/2/6/null/null/20.html">Pecorino</a> with truffles has been a favourite for a while, but the Occelli is its glorious, scented peer.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowLma7iTI/AAAAAAAAA6g/u03IjwtCtOs/s1600/P1080232.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 334px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowLma7iTI/AAAAAAAAA6g/u03IjwtCtOs/s400/P1080232.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497259271009306930" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Sovrano</span><br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sovrano</span> - a hard cooked cheese from Lombardy made from cow and buffalo milk. A slice from a much larger (35kg) wheel, this is a lovely, pale coloured hard cheese with a bright, slightly sweet flavour. It has a slight crystalline crunch and a long, rich finish balanced with a little tartness (but not too much). This was a hearts-and-minds cheese - a lovely hard cheese for shaving that's not so intense that it can't be used with reckless abandon (and you know how much we love reckless abandon).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowLN7WgZI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/Ks0LpULX19k/s1600/P1080231.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEowLN7WgZI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/Ks0LpULX19k/s400/P1080231.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497259264434405778" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Pasti with crumblepaste. Weird.<br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pasti</span> - Another hard cooked cheese, this one quite a bit more intense than the Sovrano. It was a much darker, almost orange colour and had a flavour was deep and complex - rich and buttery but with esters that emphasise tropical fruit fragrances. Very intense and crumbly but with an odd textural finish. There were a few awkward moments as we looked at each other wondering, "am I the only one?" but it was consistent for all of us. The cheese 'clumped' and stuck in lumps to our back teeth. Nothing a cleansing raisin or bit of bread wouldn't fix, but disconcerting nonetheless. An intense success, but don't say I didn't warn you about that finish...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEpncZ0MnyI/AAAAAAAAA7A/VpSGsGlVm5A/s1600/P1080246.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEpncZ0MnyI/AAAAAAAAA7A/VpSGsGlVm5A/s400/P1080246.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497320032822927138" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Erborinato</span><br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Erborinato </span>- A cow's milk cheese attacked with all sorts of wonderful infection, being both a washed-rind and a blue-moulder. This was a cute, fist-sized cylinder with a cute, fist-sized punch. Soft, but the smooth, creamy soft of a washed rind cheese rather than a buttery blue. I can imagine the battle between the blue mould and the orange mould could leave large tracts of land uninhabitable with fall-out, but this cheese brings them together in a controlled way, balancing the competing forces into something pretty special. The blue is intense but it's a broad intensity, like a punch in the head, rather than a scalpel-scythe to the palate.<br /><br />Another great moment in Cheese Club history.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-52197092948173709512010-07-16T19:49:00.000-07:002010-07-18T00:56:42.720-07:00Cedar Bakery<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEEb2peMAYI/AAAAAAAAA5w/gyUsjrzw9D0/s1600/IMG_0121.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEEb2peMAYI/AAAAAAAAA5w/gyUsjrzw9D0/s400/IMG_0121.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494703646028071298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Outside</span><br /></div><br />Cedar Bakery makes Lebanese 'pizzas' and pastries and is also the largest Lebanese supermarket within a lazy bike ride from home. We know them fairly well - weekend lunches are often a few of their joyous pizzas, and if you need dried apricot paste in a sheet this is the place to go in Thornbury/Preston. They also have a huge range of Mediteranian stuff - olives, nuts, cabbage rolls, oils etc and also do roast lamb for events.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEEb2DEHvoI/AAAAAAAAA5o/rJRY-6nHcGo/s1600/IMG_0120.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEEb2DEHvoI/AAAAAAAAA5o/rJRY-6nHcGo/s400/IMG_0120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494703635718192770" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Hard to get excited by a photo of a supermarket, I know...</span><br /></div><br />On this day we ordered four pizzas (they're quite small) - two lamb, one herb and sesame and a salami. The lamb is literally just a thin spread of very finely minced lamb on soft, thin bread spiced with lemon juice and chili; the herb was almost overpowering in a resinous way; and the salami was lovely, although a bit too much haloumi (or W calls it, "squeeky cheese") for my liking. The lamb pizza is the standout - just perfect.<br /><br />A nice place to pick up a cheap and easy Saturday lunch, and to wonder whether next time we might get some take-away cabbage rolls. A modest highlight on High Street, but a highlight nonetheless.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEEb3IlS3cI/AAAAAAAAA54/d15onw2xZGs/s1600/IMG_0123.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TEEb3IlS3cI/AAAAAAAAA54/d15onw2xZGs/s400/IMG_0123.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494703654379380162" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Lamb </span><span style="font-size:78%;">(</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:78%;">Lahem Bil Ajine); herb and sesame; and salami with squeeky cheese</span></span><span style="font-size:78%;"> -<br />make sure you fold the lamb in half</span><br /></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-51083490939369796462010-07-09T21:21:00.000-07:002010-07-11T02:22:41.047-07:00C-Culture & Achillion Cakes<a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2010/07/lunchtime-walk-through-preston-end-of.html">Continuing</a> with our <a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2010/07/noodle-kingdom.html">new-found Preston joy</a>, C-Culture is a jaunty Chinese BBQ and seafood restaurant in the <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=112317465831810454075.000466c9eb6629f1b66f5&ll=-37.738557,145.003717&spn=0.004408,0.011689&t=h&z=18">northern climes</a>. Despite its stupid name, we spent a lovely Friday night there and we ate far, far too much protein, although that says as much about the way I like to spend Friday night than it does about anything else.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDmHZGs0jII/AAAAAAAAA5Q/o9DZpDKyNTg/s1600/IMG_0109.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDmHZGs0jII/AAAAAAAAA5Q/o9DZpDKyNTg/s400/IMG_0109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492570085920115842" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Looks</span><br /></div><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span>C-Culture (I cringe as I type that name) is large by High Street standards and was boisterous with families, couples and groups of all shapes and sizes, like a low-rent Benetton commercial peopled with people instead of models. Although not pretty to look at, the decor is not offensive and the noise levels are rambunctious rather than <a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2010/06/pizza-meine-liebe.html">painful</a>. Best of all, hanging in the window are a picture-show of red-ruby ducks, golden chickens and bits of pig so beautiful I almost cried.<br /><br />Having seen such beauty it was impossible to resist the lure of the hangings, and so we ate very, very high on the food chain.<br /><br />We started with prawn spring rolls and a quarter of a soy-sauce chicken from the window. The spring rolls were little more than simple, roughly chopped prawns in a cigar wrapper with almost nothing but the flavour of the prawns, while the chicken was moist and beautiful.<br /><br />We ordered six main courses (for seven, including children), which was probably one too many. Being enamored with the window-hangings, we tried the crispy-skin roast pork belly which was absolutely fucking perfect, although as regular readers will know (sorry about the swearing Mum!) my views on pork are generous and can't be trusted, especially if you happen to be Muslim or Jewish.<br /><br />The prawn omelet was pretty good and the mixed vegetables with Chinese mushrooms and tofu was, well, as you'd expect it. I'm usually a fan of Ye Olde Tofu And Veg, but we had so much animal protein that tofu seemed a bit, well, "disappointing", he said, in a faintly patronising way. The duck was not from the window, but was cooked much the same as our local take-away "Duck and Chinese mushrooms", which is to say it <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span> nice, but I'm prepared to let the word "nice" just hang there...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDmHYoD6p4I/AAAAAAAAA5I/Qc7v7GJX5Z0/s1600/IMG_0108.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDmHYoD6p4I/AAAAAAAAA5I/Qc7v7GJX5Z0/s400/IMG_0108.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492570077695485826" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Everything except the girl (and the barramundi)<br /><br /></span></div>Being billed as a seafood restaurant, we had a whole steamed <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hopkinsii/2117037427/">barramundi</a> with ginger and green onions and <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/choconancy/277038305/#/photos/choconancy/277038305/lightbox/">pippies</a> in XO and chili sauce. The barramundi was steamed perfectly although with the slightly odd, soapy flavour that barra sometimes has. The pippies were, on the whole, wonderful, a few were still sandy (which is always a bit of a shock) and the sauce was a bit too thick, but not so bad that I didn't eat almost all of them myself.<br /><br />Despite sounding like a nasty pathology procedure, C-Culture is a better-than-average Melbourne suburban Chinese restaurant. It does its own roast pork and chickens, which in my mind automatically elevates them, and is a perfect place for a casual family dinner.<br /><br />This is how I like to spend a Friday night - with extended family, in a relaxed yet bustling room that offers food that everyone loves and makes all feel welcome. C-Culture is not a place to dress up for (although the local B-Boys had clearly made an effort), and it's not a place to invite your <a href="http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/11-ways-to-spot-a-food-wanker/">gastrosexual</a> friends, but is a place to relax and wonder about the many and <a href="http://www.google.com/images?q=chinese+roast+pork&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=7XQ5TLr3KcOecfvQmPsP&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CDIQsAQwAw">glorious ways of the pig</a>.<br /><br />I've <a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2010/04/reminiscing-bamboo-house.html">previously reminisced</a> about our family tradition of following great Chinese food with European cakes, and tonight, having parked the car outside a Greek bakery, we walked in those sweetened footsteps.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDmHZkmV5KI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/pYm2WW98I0Y/s1600/IMG_0111.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDmHZkmV5KI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/pYm2WW98I0Y/s400/IMG_0111.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492570093946004642" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Greek cakes!!!</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Many people make the mistake of assuming that Greek desserts like <a href="http://www.google.com/images?q=baklava&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=WPg3TNvEB8WJkQXi772fBg&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=6&ved=0CEUQsAQwBQ">Baklava</a> and <a href="http://www.google.com/images?q=Galaktoboureko&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=0fU3TLeQAsaSkQXc1fWeBg&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CCcQsAQwAw">Galaktoboureko</a> are made by pouring an almost infinite quantity of syrup over pastries of various sorts, but this is to overlook the exquisite balance and pitch-perfect judgment required.<br /></div></div><br />There is a fine line between insufficient syrup and too much, and Greek pastry chefs must walk this path, wide as a hair's breadth, every working day. Like the famed <a href="http://www.google.com/images?q=fugu&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=fPg3TN6nKMWJkQXg772fBg&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CDsQsAQwAw">fugu</a> chefs of Japan, they are well-trained because they, too, skirt the shores of death. Too little syrup and the diner will fail to encounter the famed glucose hallucinations; the "sugar-fairy" visions and the sucrose equivalent of the other side. Too much syrup, of course, and the diner instantly slips into a diabetic coma and death quickly follows.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDmHaCZ49LI/AAAAAAAAA5g/2K_SFMzBZ_A/s1600/IMG_0112.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 388px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDmHaCZ49LI/AAAAAAAAA5g/2K_SFMzBZ_A/s400/IMG_0112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492570101946840242" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Greek desserts - choices, choices....<br /><br /></span></div>On this night the masters at Achillion cakes judged them perfectly, and after the blissful visions and after the shadow of death was lifted, all that remained were aching teeth.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-53010993828496509322010-07-08T21:16:00.000-07:002010-07-09T01:18:24.101-07:00A Lunchtime Walk through the Preston end of High StreetToday saw a short jaunt to High Street in Preston to drop off F's <a href="http://textileseahorse.blogspot.com/">sewing machine</a> at the sewing machine shop for its annual lube job and a new set of piston rings.<br /><br />While there we collected menus for a number of enticing restaurants, predominately Chinese and Vietnamese and visited the most extraordinarily crappy $2 shop. We also dropped into the oddly-named "Bread Top". <a href="http://www.breadtop.com.au/">Bread Top</a> is a franchise that specialises in asian-style buns - the sort that always look beautifully presented and taste, well, unexpected and usually sweet. Having seen Bread Top pop up around Melbourne's CBD, and often having wondered about the food, we did a test run.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDalJmElruI/AAAAAAAAA4w/WCsIV3scLo0/s1600/P1080184.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDalJmElruI/AAAAAAAAA4w/WCsIV3scLo0/s400/P1080184.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491758379882098402" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Clockwise from top left - sausage inna bun, strawberry cream bun, bamboo charcoal bun, raisin brioche, custard tart and chicken puff<br /></span></div><br />It was pretty much what I expected. Unnervingly sweet, they all look perfect and beautiful, although in a slightly unsettling way. Oh well, we live and learn. On the other hand, I got a good price on both a Jesus and a Ganesh.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDaoHFZ5y3I/AAAAAAAAA44/4oT738xnGeY/s1600/IMG_0100.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDaoHFZ5y3I/AAAAAAAAA44/4oT738xnGeY/s400/IMG_0100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491761635288271730" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Jesus and Ganesh; window buddies<br /><br /></span></div>Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-38862364499155522122010-07-08T16:15:00.000-07:002010-09-10T18:50:00.328-07:00Noodle Kingdom<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;">"When beetles<br /> fight these battles<br /> in a bottle<br /> with their paddles<br /> and the bottle's<br /> on a poodle<br /> and the poodle's<br /> eating noodles...</span> </p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">...they call this</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> a muddle puddle</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> tweetle poodle</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> beetle noodle</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> bottle paddle battle."</span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">(from <span style="font-style: italic;">Fox in Sox</span> by Dr Seuss)</span><br /> </p>It is our first foray to the North end of High Street, in Preston, and we do it without a noodle-eating poodle. Although regulars at the <a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2009/06/preston-market-saturday-afternoon.html">Preston Market,</a> we haven't tried any of the increasing number of restaurants nearby in High Street, so Noodle Kingdom is the beginning of something new for us. Oh, the <a href="http://www.teamhope.com/seuss.htm">places we'll go</a>....<br /><br />Noodle Kingdom is a modern, bright and wonderfully chaotic room off a bright and wonderfully chaotic section of The Street Previously Named. Noodles are hand-made by a noodle hand-maker who sits in his noodle-booth near the noodle-window, and my word, they are wonderful (noodles).<br /><br />Emmy and I ordered well-noodled noodle soups (with noodles) - mine was the Lanzhou beef soup, Em's a wanton wonton soup. W dumpled.<br /><br />The beef soup was simple and fragrant - a wintry warm, rich and scented broth with sweet aniseed-like spices and firm, poodle-free noodles that were <a href="http://www.pavilion.co.uk/users/glyng/s_cathat.html">fun that was funny</a>. It was adoringly adorned with slices of beef brisket that were melt-in-the mouth tender and would have been lapped up by any self-respecting lap poodle.<br /><br />Em's wontons were wantonly wonderful - juicy pork flavoured with ginger; far better than <a href="http://www.brandsonsale.com/elo-lu3521.html">fish-in-a-pot</a>. Both dishes were served in enormous and staggering <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/Horton_Hears_a_Who%21">Horton</a>-sized bowls. The dumplings, pot stickers, were less wonderful but still fine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDZjS_Aw-NI/AAAAAAAAA4o/a-VB6wkJjKU/s1600/IMG_0088.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDZjS_Aw-NI/AAAAAAAAA4o/a-VB6wkJjKU/s400/IMG_0088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491685973428336850" border="0" /></a><br />Like reading Dr Seuss to a five-year old, Noodle Kingdom is a simple but cheerfully boisterous experience. Getting your tongue around these hand-made poodle-free noodles is easier than reading <span style="font-style: italic;">Fox in Sox</span> and just as rewarding.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-75488018956861233622010-06-27T03:20:00.000-07:002010-07-05T02:13:29.400-07:00Chateau Yering (or Brillat-Savarin Gets Quite Excited in the Yarra Valley)<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGbwqI_R7I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/SLyygiB9BY8/s1600/IMG_0042.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGbwqI_R7I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/SLyygiB9BY8/s400/IMG_0042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490340680989362098" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Monster Truffle!!!</span><br /></div><blockquote style="font-style: italic;">“Whoever says “truffles” utters a great word which arouses erotic and gastronomic memories among the skirted sex, and memories gastronomic and erotic among the bearded sex."</blockquote>Well %$#@ me silly and call me a mushroom, but Brillat-Savarin was on to something here (said the author as a beardy member of the bearded sex).<blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="font-style: italic;">"This ... is due to the fact that the noble tuber is not only considered delicious to the taste, but is also believed to foster powers the exercise of which is extremely pleasurable.”</blockquote>My word, is it hot in here? Anyway, last weekend we tested the power of these noble tubers at the 2010 Truffle Degustation lunch at Chateau Yering in the Yarra Valley. Chateau Yering's restaurant is a long, formal room with windows on all sides overlooking the Valley, and was a perfect setting for a grossly extravagant lunch. It was made even perfect-er because wines were provided by <a href="http://domainechandon.com.au/about-about-us.html">Domain Chandon</a>, Moet and Chandon's southern offshoot.<br /><br />The first real course was an Amuse Bouche (which is a French expression for "one who finds the <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/The_Mighty_Boosh">Mighty Boosh</a> amusing, but not particularly laugh-out-loud funny") of a Parmesan panne cotta with a noodle of truffle jelly. At the first spoon the warm, rich, underground scent of truffles was bursting out, and the panne cotta was creamy and resplendent with fat. Fantastic, and it went down a treat with the Chandon Brut 2006.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGbv7_65iI/AAAAAAAAA3I/nN8ojnTAyyI/s1600/IMG_0041.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGbv7_65iI/AAAAAAAAA3I/nN8ojnTAyyI/s400/IMG_0041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490340668603295266" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">An amusing boosh</span><br /></div><blockquote style="font-style: italic;">“It is safe to say that at the time of writing (1825), the fame of the truffle is at its zenith. Nobody dares admit to having been present at a meal which did not include a single truffled dish. However good in itself an entrée may be, it makes a poor show if it is not garnished with truffles."</blockquote>Our entree met this criteria handsomely - it was a Persian feta cigar, made of brik pastry and filled with Yarra Valley Dairy feta and served with a salad of shaved beetroot and truffles. The cigar was lovely but not particularly worthy of words, but the salad was a crisp disappointment. Both the beetroot and truffles had a nice enough crunch but not a lot of flavour. Shame, but the benchmark had already been set pretty high. This came with a Chandon Brut Rose 2006.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGfp79gdcI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/y-HVMJ2RVsE/s1600/IMG_0043.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 233px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGfp79gdcI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/y-HVMJ2RVsE/s400/IMG_0043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490344963560469954" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Yarra Valley Dairy Persian Feta Cigar. Can I get you a light?</span><br /></div><br />Having been brought a little way back to Earth, we were quickly elevated again with the next course - a potato and truffle ravioli with salsify, wild mushrooms and a nasturtium coulis. A single ravioli, stacked up and filled with potato foam had the potential to be a ball of fluff and nothing, but was soft, unctous and bursting with the magic scent of our deep-down friends, both tuberous and fungal. The pasta was, of course, perfect and its gay, verdant sauce was just verging on the underwhelming. Otherwise, wow.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGbxldztwI/AAAAAAAAA3g/hkbXJhSB-P4/s1600/IMG_0049.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGbxldztwI/AAAAAAAAA3g/hkbXJhSB-P4/s400/IMG_0049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490340696914376450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Potato and Truffle Ravioli</span><br /></div><br />And now onto the almost main course - squab roasted in liquorice, with a parsnip puree, truffle bread and butter pudding and violet emulsion. Let's dispense with the violet emulsion - it was an intensely floral foam, and in decades previous would have been used for washing your gran's hair. Nevermind - everything else was slightly magical. The squab was tender and the spicing was perfect, and the small cubes of bread and butter pudding were crisp on the edges and soft within. I could have eaten a pile of these. This came with a 2008 Chandon Pinot Noir.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGhR4EZ6AI/AAAAAAAAA4g/mqpNil18vNw/s1600/IMG_0050.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGhR4EZ6AI/AAAAAAAAA4g/mqpNil18vNw/s400/IMG_0050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490346749222053890" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Squab (and scented foam, alas)<br /></span></div><br />Finally, the dish I'd been waiting for - a charcoal grilled wagyu beef fillet with a white onion puree, bone marrow jus and a Jerusalem artichoke gallette. This was the ultimate winter dish - beautifully coloured and browned winter root vegetables with a piece of perfect, tender pink beef with a thin sheen of charcoal to get the bitterness *just* right. The beef was beyond belief and the vegetables were heart-warmingly generous. This was a perfect way to finish the real (ie non-sugar) part of the meal, and although not strong in truffles, it neither needed them or would have been improved by them. Served with gusto and a glass of the same (or at least a 2006 Domain Chandon Barrel Selection Yarra Valley Shiraz).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeSXzP62I/AAAAAAAAA4Q/D1EZX-bowX8/s1600/IMG_0056.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeSXzP62I/AAAAAAAAA4Q/D1EZX-bowX8/s400/IMG_0056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490343459205147490" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Beef on a plate</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeRwdiijI/AAAAAAAAA4I/pn_A0Y83jOk/s1600/IMG_0058.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeRwdiijI/AAAAAAAAA4I/pn_A0Y83jOk/s400/IMG_0058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490343448645110322" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Beef up close and deeply personal<br /></span></div><br />Dessert was a Banana and Truffle Semifreddo. It was, quite frankly, beyond amazing. The truffles really worked well with the earthyness of the banana and the whole effect was lush and sensual. It was also wrapped in a cute ribbon of firm maple jelly, which failed to give it a "Hello Kitty" effect and so can be forgiven.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeQ6C1lQI/AAAAAAAAA34/-GeE0_TUFWc/s1600/IMG_0063.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeQ6C1lQI/AAAAAAAAA34/-GeE0_TUFWc/s400/IMG_0063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490343434037597442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Banana and truffle semifreddo<br /></span></div><br />Brillat-Savarin tells the tale of a woman<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>“who is witty but unpretentious, virtuous but no prude, and for whom love is now only a pleasant memory.” In the story, the woman dines with her husband and his friend, described as “harmless”. The husband is called away, and after a truffle-fuelled meal, the friend metamorphoses from complimentary to expansive to affectionate to tender to importunate. Ever after she ate truffles with a sense of deep mistrust.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeQAA7NHI/AAAAAAAAA3w/vdk0FDKxM7E/s1600/IMG_0067.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeQAA7NHI/AAAAAAAAA3w/vdk0FDKxM7E/s400/IMG_0067.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490343418460320882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Not making a gesture</span><br /></div><br />I know what you're thinking, but I'm far too much of a gentleman to say. Nor will I be photographed making gestures. To change the subject quickly, I''l leave the final words to Brillat-Savarin, who clearly thought of himself as a voice of authority:<br /><blockquote style="font-style: italic;">“It only remains for us to discover whether the truffle is indigestible. Our answer will be in the negative. This official and final decision …”</blockquote>No, I didn't think so either, but I'm not sure I can sound so definitive. Or official.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeRAQ8RwI/AAAAAAAAA4A/oZJ7ojCPUCo/s1600/IMG_0061.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TDGeRAQ8RwI/AAAAAAAAA4A/oZJ7ojCPUCo/s400/IMG_0061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490343435707369218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Waiting for dessert<br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-59706906848419328602010-06-22T04:57:00.000-07:002010-06-22T14:28:50.540-07:00Unicorn - The Other White MeatAfter having read this story there were a few moments there that I was really getting excited by an<a href="http://www.thinkgeek.com/stuff/41/unicorn-meat.shtml"> inspiring recipe using an exotic ingredient</a> which, apparently, is "an excellent source of sparkles". I've never eaten unicorn before, although I've had <a href="http://www.google.com.au/images?q=rarity+the+unicorn&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=-KYgTKfbMJOHcc6SgCc&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CCcQsAQwAA">Mock Unicorn</a> a few times, and once eaten <a href="http://www.google.com.au/images?q=dugong&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=LKcgTM7WOIPfcd6c-VY&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CCQQsAQwAA">Dugong</a>, which was distressingly wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, that at the time of tasting I was beginning to see the causal chain between "delicious" and "endangered".<a href="http://www.google.com.au/images?q=dugong&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=LKcgTM7WOIPfcd6c-VY&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CCQQsAQwAA"><br /></a><br />Alas, it turns out that unicorn is not "<a href="http://www.thinkgeek.com/blog/2010/06/officially-our-bestever-cease.html">The Other White Meat</a>"... That honour belongs to Eat Our Way's favourite animal, the <a href="https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/Pig">pork-beast</a>. Oh glorious pig...<br /><br />The official apology for any confusion can be found <a href="http://www.thinkgeek.com/files/thinkgeek-unicornmeatrelease.pdf">here</a>.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6862951535828349507.post-26383364601790172582010-06-14T01:06:00.000-07:002010-06-15T09:20:34.897-07:00Cheese Club Seven - Whey to go, dude!Friday night was Cheese Club night, and on this night we shared it with Suzanne, aka <a href="http://www.essjay.com.au/">essjay,</a> some lovely wine, the usual accompaniments and were aided by a copy of <span style="font-style: italic;">French Cheeses</span> by Kazuko Masui and Tomoko Tamada (which we will return shortly, promise). As Cheese Club goes, this was heavy on the semi-hard and hard cheeses and with a preponderance of Appellation d'Origine Controlee cheeses. AOC, for those who don't know, is a French expression translating roughly as "we know where it came from because it says so on the label". This edition of Cheese Club was an intense, high-powered occasion with some strident flavours wearing the gastronomic equivalents of shoulder pads and power suits, and was joined with some vin-not-so-ordinaire, including a jolly 2005 <a href="http://www.curlyflat.com/history.asp">Curly Flat</a> Pinot Noir. Noice.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBX4u_RSOTI/AAAAAAAAA3A/8FcOIBGP9RQ/s1600/P1080044.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBX4u_RSOTI/AAAAAAAAA3A/8FcOIBGP9RQ/s400/P1080044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482561607535049010" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Saint Mercellin. Think you're a tough guy, eh?</span><br /><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Saint Marcellin</span> - Superficially, this comes from the same family as the Saint Felicien we've p<a href="http://eatourwayuphighst.blogspot.com/2010/03/cheese-club-v-cheeses-and-dairy-chain.html">reviously loved</a>. But this is the younger brother - the one with short-guy Napoleon complex. Like the Saint Felicien, it comes in its own ashtray and looks like its skin is the only thing holding it together. Underneath, however, it's aching for a fight and is ready to punch you in the face before running away and taunting you from *just* outside striking distance. Like the best French cheeses, it comes with a legend involving a bear, a future King, two woodsmen and a particle accelerator (OK, so I made up the last bit) but the legend is more than 500 years old and so can be described as "venerable". The cheese is smooth and thin-creamy like the Felicien, but has a much stronger and intrusive flavour.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXyy1h5N1I/AAAAAAAAA2g/_mjHSJMgtbs/s1600/P1080032.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXyy1h5N1I/AAAAAAAAA2g/_mjHSJMgtbs/s400/P1080032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482555076570068818" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Agour Pur Chevre<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Agour Pur Chevre</span> - This has the lovely white, near-translucency of a semi-hard goat's cheese and is from the Basque Pyrenees in France. Amazingly nutty and smooth, almost-hard texture with just the barest whisker of crystalline crunch. If it wasn't for the ivory colour, I would have assumed this was cow's milk. Nutty and smooth like a cooked curd cheese, but with a lighter finish. Lovely.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXy0pzp0wI/AAAAAAAAA24/mGzo-klZNsU/s1600/P1080040.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXy0pzp0wI/AAAAAAAAA24/mGzo-klZNsU/s400/P1080040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482555107783070466" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Comte heaven</span><br /><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Will Studd Select Comte</span> (AOC) - This is a Gruyere of mighty power and lusciousness and is the most popular of all cheeses in France (I read it in a book so it must be true). It's a Gruyere, so it's smooth and a bit nutty, but this one was stratospherically luscious, moist and sweet as well. The flavour had a slight caramel and the texture was as smooth as a very smooth thing that was having a particularly smooth day. Fondue heaven awaits, and it's not in the back seat of a limo - it's in a slice of this.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXyzmMeK5I/AAAAAAAAA2o/YHqwzDT3aDc/s1600/P1080034.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXyzmMeK5I/AAAAAAAAA2o/YHqwzDT3aDc/s400/P1080034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482555089633553298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Heidi Tilsit</span> <span style="font-size:78%;">- relax...</span><br /><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heidi Tilsit</span> - This is a Tasmanian semi-hard washed rind cheese of cow's milk. In previous editions of Cheese Club, I've mocked Heidi as various Swiss cheeses have come up, but I haven't actually had a cheese named after the lass herself. This is much more of a soft, elastic cheese than most Swiss-style cheeses, and although it has a rich flavour with a nice follow-up tang, it just didn't come together as well as some of the others. A good cheese, to be sure, but on this night we tasted so many similar cheeses that were much more intense and exciting. The <a href="http://www.rhcl.com.au/"> RHCL</a> tasting notes talk about a wet-hay flavour, and who am I to argue? But equally, who am I to care?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXy0JkRzII/AAAAAAAAA2w/XZGoC88_oFU/s1600/P1080036.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXy0JkRzII/AAAAAAAAA2w/XZGoC88_oFU/s400/P1080036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482555099128646786" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Abondance</span>. <span style="font-size:78%;">&^%$ yeah</span>.<br /><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Abondance (AOC)</span> - From the same family as the Comte, another mountain cheese. This one's made from raw cow's milk, so in theory (according to Quarantine), this one should taste of instant lactic death. While many of the cheeses in this family look pretty similar, this one has distinctive concave sides and it is obviously a drier cheese than the others. Of the four semi/hard fondue-style cheeses, this is far and away the most intense, with less nutty-smoothness and more a vigorous tang. This is a sharp and big, pointed cheese which should be approached with caution and much respect.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXyySFMOHI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/JO-xRMyUkTo/s1600/P1080030.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_12J3uM9zNMg/TBXyySFMOHI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/JO-xRMyUkTo/s400/P1080030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482555067054438514" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Blue de Laqueuille<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bleu de Laqueuille (AOC) </span>- When I was growing up there were (as far as I can remember) about three different types of cheeses. One of them was a blue cheese, and it tasted remarkably like the Laqueuille, although it was called "Danish Blue". This is a lovely cow's milk blue cheese that has soft and rich paste without being buttery and can still crumble, and a strong but not frightening degree of blue mould. Not quite the blue cheese of my childhood, but a lot like it.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08653925559083008022noreply@blogger.com1