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A New Week + Recipe Scout 12

A ghastly week behind me; a new (brighter...) one ahead in which my father’s health improves (please…) and his doctor considers releasing him from hospital, and in which I write a rather fine, rather clever 2500-word profile on the rather appealing, rather clever Sydney actor-writer Brendan Cowell, get to the gym and take a healthy packed lunch to work every day, let nothing pass my lips stronger than a Single Origin Roasters skim latte, and count the varieties of food I’m eating.
Have followed with interest Limes & Lycopene blogger Kathryn Elliott’s charting of the varieties of food she eats. “If you try to eat a greater variety of foods, you will be healthier for it,” writes Kathryn, who tallies between 30 and 35 different foods a day in her own diet. (And, I warn you, no cheating by counting the Brie de Meaux and the Parmigiano-Reggiano as two foods! That’s one and it’s called dairy!)
But Kathryn, I have questions:

  • If I have miso soup at work — made from a packet mix but one without MSG — can I count the spring onions and wakame and tofu that rehydrate with the addition of boiling water as three varieties of food? And what about the miso sauce that they provide for you to mix in?
  • And do pizza toppings count? And, if they do, is there a statute of limitations on how many days old the pizza can be before those toppings have lost their food value?
  • Do freshly ground black pepper and Murray River salt flakes have any credentials here?
  • What about a clove of garlic crushed in a lazy pasta dish and the chopped parsley from my sad balcony herb pot that I might consider using too? And hey, how about the olive oil?
  • If I have muesli, do I count everything I put in it, even if I might only end up having an eighth of a teaspoon or less of the ingredient?
  • What about raspberry jam, eaten with a croissant on a Sunday morning?
  • And how about the store-bought spinach dip I’m hoeing into right now (and the pinenuts it claims to have)? Is that two ingredients, three if you count the rice crackers?

In the meantime, while I anxiously wait for answers, here are the latest recipes I’m adding to my Recipe Scout Index:

  1. Salmon Rillettes on the David Lebovitz blog.
  2. Rick Stein’s Fillet of Turbot with Clams and Chardonnay on BBC Food.
  3. Chickpea, Almond and Sesame Spread on A Life (Time) of Cooking.
  4. Gourmet Traveller's fine-looking Lasagne. 
  5. "Salmon Noodle Soup for What Ails You" on Cook & Eat.
  6. Algarve Buzz's Portuguese Codfish Cakes (Pasteis de Bacalhau).
  7. Indian Squid Curry on Rasa Malaysia.
  8. Bake until Bubbly Macaroni Cheese on Bay Area Bites.
  9. Saveur's Spinach with Pinenuts and Raisins.
  10. Strawberry Panzanella on 101 Cookbooks.

Links Wrap-Up

Alas, I’m well overdue in sharing some links, and they do pile up. Might end up being a two, or a three-parter… some good stuff though, despite older vintage of some. You’ll forgive me, I hope, if I start with this (from the website of European weekly magazine, Der Spiegel) — the Guolizhuang Restaurant in Beijing, covered by the BBC previously. Indeed, my colleague John Lethlean, a noted offal connoisseur, has written about this restaurant before. I wonder, though, if he’s seen Der Spiegel's photographs.
If you’re still with me, you’ll have the stomach to handle this in The Sydney Morning Herald, American artist Victoria Reynolds’ carnivorous art. As the story notes: “Indeed, meat has an uncanny hold for some in the artworld. Meatpaper is a quarterly magazine of art and ideas about meat.”
And then on to some great pieces about chefs and restaurants and meals I’d like to eat:

  • Something else for John: The New York Times reports on the Montreal dining scene where “there has been a surge in quirky restaurants that are extensions of their chefs’ personal tastes and dedication to Montreal’s regional ingredients. At these restaurants, no part of the pig escapes the kitchen knife, whether it’s the ears (sliced and fried in a salad with frisée) or feet (braised, stuffed and roasted). And foie gras abounds, never far from marrowbones, sweetbreads and steaks so big they’d make a cowboy blush.”
  • I've linked before to a story about Noma, a Copenhagen restaurant that set me thinking it was time I set off to explore my Danish ancestry. I’m thinking even more seriously about it thanks to Sunday's New York Times piece on Copenhagen Nordic cuisine — Noma again, plus Alberto K and Geranium (where they apparently smoke salmon at the table in front of you). A great slideshow here.
  • The New York magazine covers, in almost interminable length, Alain Ducasse’s so-far unsuccessful attempts to conquer the city. “It could be that Ducasse, like a man trying to woo a distant lover, was simply trying too hard,” writer Alex Morris speculates.
  • In an Independent newspaper blog, Australia’s own Terry Durack calls for a shake-up of the S.Pellegrino World’s 50 Best Restaurants awards (2008: El Bulli, 1, The Fat Duck, 2,Pierre Gagnaire, 3, Tetsuya’s, 9, Noma, 10, Alain Ducasse au Plaza Athénée, 18).
  • And The New York Times again on restaurants in Bordeaux, where “where a cadre of experimental chefs have pulled Bordeaux into the 21st century”.
  • In Slate, writer Lisa Abend asks of Spanish avant-garde cuisine — “isn’t anyone tired of this stuff by now?” She’s referring to “dishes” including “a fine plate of fish blood”, and chef such as “the Roca boys (who) painted swabs of truffle, hare, and dirt across a plate and called it "Winter." In Barcelona, Angel León used algae to clarify soup, Ramón Freixa turned liquid-nitrogenized pineapple into dessert, and Martin Berasategui talked about something called "synergetic elaboration."
  • And finally for now, an "expose" on Iron Chef America. In The Village Voice, Robert Sietsema writes: “Iron Chef America is more bogus than even I had imagined.”

There, that’ll keep you busy … have a great weekend.

Ruhlman on Trends

Interesting stuff here: Michael Ruhlman called for readers to share with him what they thought were the next food trends. The return of lard, growing your own food, and making your own charcuterie, cheese and preserves were frequent suggestions. Can we add any here?

More on Radio National

And more on Radio National: this week's Poetica (Saturday 3pm) looks at a subject close to my heart — gluttony. Promo says: "Following the trajectory of Berthold Brecht's famous lyric 'Food first, morals follow on' in the song 'What Keeps Mankind Alive', Gluttony is a graphic and highly sonic exploration of excessive appetites for food, love, drugs... and then its counterpoint, starvation." Podcasts of course, too.

Catching Up on the West Coast

I’ve written about the brilliance of Bloglines — one of several feed organisers that allows you to consolidate in one place all the online things you like to read. Sadly, for a while now I’ve been realising its downside: when you have 163 feeds in your Bloglines, there’s simply no way you can keep up with them all. I have some catching up to do… perhaps over Easter, which I’ll spend with my folks in Queensland…
For now, I’m wading through one blog at a time, inhaling the backlog. One of the blogs I subscribe to is Between Meals, the blog of The San Francisco Chronicle’s restaurant critic Michael Bauer. The benefit of going through a long list of his older posts this weekend has been that it has given me an overview of a number of months on the West Coast.

On trends:

  • Bauer writes that eggs are being given starring roles in appetisers (entrees) in restaurants across California and the US — poached egg with pork belly at Dovetail in New York; poached egg on mushroom ragout with parsnips and smoked salt at the locavorian-inclined Fish & Farm ("new American seafood and artisan meats"); “creamy farro crowned with a slow-poached egg, accompanied by honey roasted garlic and grilled baby leeks” at Cortez. It is, says Bauer, a trend that’s yet to peak. (Bistrode's Jeremy Strode, a noted egg lover, could well ask why it has taken them so long.)
  • Seriously market-driven menus in New York City to, perhaps, the point of gimmickry — at Park Avenue Winter, for example, “the restaurant changes names and decor with the seasons. Now when you enter the expansive space, it feels like a blast of winter with strategically placed bare trees, white walls, upholstery and crystal chandeliers and lights. There's also a 'white' menu, and a regular menu that also changes by the season. Waiters and staff are dressed in winter white jackets -- in summer it was white and yellow, and in fall burnt orange, according to our waiter. The upholstery and walls also reflect the change, as does the wine and drink list.”
  • Trends that he's over. These, says Bauer, include truffle oil, “the blatant misuse of the term tapas”, crudo and fish tartare when done poorly, Kobe-style beef — “it's everywhere, and often times not very good” (Australians can substitute “wagyu” here) — and flourless or molten chocolate cake.

On interesting meals:

  • Bauer talks of a meal at Chez Panisse, cooked by guest chef Atlanta’s Scott Peacock, “...the keeper of the flame in Southern cooking, and last night's meal stoked those fires and made me want to head south. ... he created an oyster stew with salsify and half-dollar-size biscuits with country ham; in one bite, I knew why this product is so beloved in the South.”
  • The Hominy Grill, a Charleston restaurant he visits with 18 different vegetables on the blackboard menu: “We're talking vegetables that include squash casserole, mustard greens and, of course, lima beans. Chef-owner Robert Stehling … keeps true to the Southern traditions with such things as pimiento cheese spread, fried green tomatoes on a pool of ranch dressing, she-crab soup fortified with sherry.”

On the offbeat:

  • The influence of Google, which has 17 restaurants offering free food on its Mountain View campus, may yet be felt in the food world. Says Bauer: “Of course, Google's restaurants and cafes are open only to employees, but the Google effect on Bay Area dining struck me yesterday when I read a Los Angeles Times story about Thunder Parley, a 27-year-old computer programmer turned critic, who according to the story ‘is becoming as influential to the company's hundreds of chefs and culinary staffers as the Michelin and Zagat reviewers are to restauranteurs (sic).’ ”
  • “I don't think I've ever been in a room where dozen of people unabashedly proclaimed their love of okra, or rejoiced in artisanal boudin, that loose sausage made with the guts of the pig,” says Bauer, who attended the 10th annual Southern Foodways Alliance symposium at the University of Mississippi last October.

On the business of restaurants:

  • Bauer writes about the universal problem of “no-shows”, something that has been on my mind since trying to come up with an affordable Sydney restaurant to take two different lots of interstate and overseas visitors in the past week. I’m realizing how many of the places I like here, or want to try — Bodega, Vini, Moncur Terrace and Pizza e Birra spring to mind — don’t take bookings. (A no-bookings policy is usually a restaurant's decisive way of dealing with the problem of no-shows.) Frustrating when you want some certainty about a dining time and when you’re not interested in hanging around on Surry Hills street corners waiting for a table. Surely there must be some middle path here: to get a table, I’d be prepared to give my credit-card details and take a hit if I didn’t show up.
  • In light of Australia’s own multi-restaurant celebrity chefs — Neil Perry and Bill Granger (who has just opened a restaurant in Tokyo and has eyes on London) spring immediately to mind … Frank Camorra may not be so far behind — was interested to read Bauer's thoughts on celebrity chefs such as Craft's Tom Colicchio opening “bicoastal branches”. Says Bauer: “Luring chefs from other cities doesn’t feel like a coming of age.”
  • Restaurant chefs who are growing their own vegetables: Spruce, the splashy new restaurant in Presidio Heights, grows most of its ingredients at its 5-acre organic farm in Woodside. In addition, the oil used in the restaurant is made into fuel for the truck that delivers the produce. Ubuntu, a very stylish and upscale vegetable restaurant in Napa (it doesn't use the term vegetarian) also gets most of its gorgeous produce from their biodynamic farm.” With Sean Moran spending a few days a week tilling his soil in the Blue Mountains, and Dan Hunter, the young chef at regional Victoria’s Royal Mail Hotel drawing on “a kitchen garden full of wondrous things from within his employer’s 20-hectare stone-walled estate”, according to Age restaurant critic John Lethlean, this may well emerge as a trend here too.
  • Coked-up waiters: “The giveaways are the glassy deer-in-the-headlight eyes and a kind of frenetic movement and speech patterns that could be mistaken for someone with boundless energy.”

On the recently thorny subject of blogging:

  • My own view is that it won’t be long before every professional food writer and reviewer will have to have a blog presence to remain relevant. Says Bauer: “Like many colleagues, I wonder what the growth of the Internet means to restaurants, food and reviewing. There are many ways to get information, and who will end up on top is obviously still in play. Certainly the Internet is a much more interactive medium than print, and things such as blogs bring us closer to readers.”
  • The issue of bloggers who take photographs in restaurants: “This is a growing problem, and it largely boils down to good manners,” writes Bauer. “Some people have the notion that if they pay for a meal, they have a right to take pictures (or talk on the phone), even if it annoys others.” I do it about twice a year and even then with great embarrassment, figuring I look like an idiot. Very curious that so many, here and abroad, seem to do it without a second thought.

A Bunch of Links

Discovered a bunch of things online this week ... normally I'd stick them in my right-hand column here and you'd probably never notice them... but I'm generally wondering about the worthwhile-ness of that labour-intensive component of my blog (what do you reckon?), so today, this is what's going to happen: I'm going to give you them en masse in a post (and also, with some weariness, eventually link to them in their categories at right).
First, Australians among you should know that my favourite Radio Station (one of my very young colleagues today suggested I might not be very groovy, so I'm giving up on any pretence of grooviness and outing myself here and now and telling you that my favourite radio station is Radio National — I suppose that’s an NPR equivalent), um, what was I saying … my favourite radio station’s religion and spirituality program, The Spirit of Things, this Sunday (6pm) features “celebrity chef” Kylie Kwong cooking a special Chinese New Year banquet in the kitchen of her Sydney restaurant Billy Kwong. I like the program's presenter, Rachael Kohn, so hopefully it’ll be something a little more substantial than celebrity-chef-waffle. (The same program also features Tony Ayres, director of the award-winning Australian film, The Home Song Stories (click through for great trailer), talking about the importance of New Year in Chinese culture). Non-Australians among you should know that Radio National podcasts most of its programs.
Among the other things I can tell you:

  • Wednesday night UK time, Raymond Blanc of Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons will launch the Seafood, See Life campaign at the old Billingsgate fish market in London. The Guardian informs me that Heston Blumenthal (the Fat Duck) and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall (the River Cottage chef/owner and a man who also wants us to give up cheap chicken) are already behind the campaign, which “will ask members of the restaurant industry to choose to serve only sustainable seafood and urge food writers to drop unsustainably caught fish from their recipes”.
  • On the other side of the Atlantic, The New York Times’s cooking guru Mark Bittman is asking his readers to think about the terrible cost of their meat-heavy diet.
  • Bittman no doubt will also be catching up on the January edition of that wonderful creature, The Observer Food Monthly, a green issue. Its main article names the “eco foodies who have influenced our buying and eating habits the most”, another piece uncovers “the greenest chippy in town”, and the Prince of Wales and his eco-friendly ways also get a mention.
  • I expect Bittman would also be interested in the The Price of Sugar and its trailer, a new documentary that looks at the use of Haitian labour on the sugar-cane plantations of the Dominican Republic, which apparently produce much of the sugar that goes on to US tables. The documentary “follows Father Christopher Hartley, a charismatic Spanish priest, as he organizes some of this hemisphere's poorest people to fight for their basic human rights. This film raises key questions about where the products we consume originate and at what human cost they are produced”.
  • More frivolously, this BBC News item is a bit of a laugh: a photographer called Carl Warner has “painstakingly captured all kinds of food in a series of still lifes”. And here’s another crazy artist: New York City-based conceptual artist and chef Mary Ellen Carroll who does a performance piece titled  "itinerant gastronomy", in which, according to Gourmet, she “cooks exceedingly elaborate meals in inhospitable settings” — inhospitable settings such as a bridge between Staten Island and New Jersey.
  • And perhaps the new Prime Minister of Thailand, Samak Sundaravej, also considers himself an artist? He’s sworn he’s going to keep on presenting his weekly television cooking show.
  • Here in Australia, yet another one of those restaurant survivor series is about to start: The Chopping Block co-host, Sydney chef Matt Moran, is interviewed on ninemsn's Gourmet.
  • Also on ninemsn, my old colleague John Lethlean makes some heady claims for the virtues of the Royal Mail Hotel in Dunkeld, in Victoria’s Western District. It is, he says, “not only special, but unique. Only a truly imaginative chef could produce this food, which is not to suggest creativity usurps sense or style. No, the fascinating thing about Hunter’s food is that it’s not wacky, just clever, lateral and true to the fundamentals of flavour, texture and respect for produce”.
  • The New York Times’s travel section visits Vienna to discover a new generation of “casual restaurants in unexpected settings, from inside museums to cheese shops and even bookstores” (how extraordinary!).
  • Vanity Fair profiles Padma Lakshmi, former model, cookbook author, ex-wife of Salman Rushdie and host of Top Chef. “Where is it written that a smart woman can’t also be stacked?” the buxom lass once wrote in an article.
  • And finally, Saveur magazine offers its Top 100 for 2008, a list that includes the Swiss army knife, chopped liver, whey-fed pork, tomato aspic, Hare Krishna Temple dining halls, wonton soup, edible weeds, Chinese ironwood cutting boards, Lipton Yellow Label Tea International Blend, Ramadan food markets and, horror upon horrors, hand-washing dishes. I love my dishwasher. Please don’t make me do it.

A History of Eating

Now here's a fascinating thing — a food timeline compiled by Lynne Olver, an American food historian, reference librarian and former New York Times librarian of the year who has a passion for food history.
Did you know that almonds were one of the first foodstuffs to appear — in about 10,000BC? That cows were domesticated in 6,500BC? That wine appeared in 6,000BC — about 4,000 years after beer? That "until about 2200BC the Egyptians perservered with attempts to domesticate a number of animals like the ibex, oryx, antelope and gazelle, and then, abandoning this fruitless occupation, turned to the more entertaining pursuits of hunting in the marshland preserves, collecting exotic vegetables like wild celery, papyrus stalks and lotus roots, trapping birds and going fishing". That french toast, omelettes and foie gras were around in the first century AD and sushi arrived in the following century? That fruit salad and Tabasco sauce made their entrances in 1863 and 1868 respectively? And that 2007 was the year we were blessed with Kool-Aid pickles?
Hours of amusement here. Perhaps it's time for a Food Lover's Trivial Pursuit?

Quick Link: Heston Blumenthal

Some interesting videos to be found here of British chef Heston Blumenthal's new series of In Search of Perfection. Take a look at the Behind-the-Scenes video, which shows what goes into a food show of this nature. Eat your heart out Jamie Oliver!

'I Had a Slice of Spaniel'

Another brilliant offering from Delanceyplace.com, which I mentioned two posts ago. When they offer up food-related snippets, they're always about the intersection of food and history or food and society — the sort of food writing I find fascinating. And they have an unerring ability to pick excerpts with brilliantly sly humour and whimsy.

From Delanceyplace.com:

"In today's excerpt--the Siege of Paris or L'Annee Terrible: the overthrow and humiliation of Paris in 1870 by Bismarck after France declares war on Prussia. France, still limping from the excesses of Napoleon, shows enough hubris to declare war on Prussia over a mere diplomatic incident--the proposed placement of a German prince on the Spanish throne ('The Liberal Empire goes to war on a mere point of etiquette'). Bismarck judged rightly that a war on France would enable him to bond together the loose structure of the German federation into a truly unified nation. Bismarck won after a siege that brought Parisians to the cruel brink of starvation, and he extracted as reparations Alsace, Lorraine and five billion francs--a price which led bitterly to both World Wars. Upon the German's departure, France imploded into a civil war that left 25,000 Parisians dead--more than in the Terror itself:

"By early October [1870] even bourgeois Paris had turned to horsemeat. ... As hunger tightened its grip, so many a splendid champion of the turf came to a well-spiced end in the casserole. Among them were two trotting horses presented by the Tsar to Louis Napoleon at the time of the Great Exposition, originally valued at 56,000 francs, now bought by a butcher for 800. It was mid-November, however, that supplies of fresh meat were exhausted--and it was then that Parisians invented the exotic menus with which the siege will always be linked. The signs 'Feline and Canine Butchers' made their first appearance. To begin with, dog-loving Parisians objected fiercely to slaughtering domestic pets for human consumption, but soon necessity overcame their fastidiousness. By mid-December [columnist] Henry Labouchere ... was telling his readers, 'I had a slice of spaniel the other day,' adding that it made him 'feel like a cannibal.' A week later he reported that he had encountered a man who was fattening up a large cat which he planned to serve up on Christmas Day, 'surrounded with mice, like sausages.' ...
"And then it was rats. Along with the carrier-pigeon, the rat was to become the most fabled animal of the Siege of Paris, and from December the National Guard spent much of its time engaged in vigorous rat-hunts. ... The elaborate sauces that were necessary to render them edible meant that rats were essentially a rich man's dish--hence the notorious menus of the Jockey Club, which featured such delicacies as salmis de rats and rat pie.
"As the weeks passed, Parisian diets grew even more outlandish as the zoos started to offer up their animals. ... By early January, [a young Englishman named Tommy Bowles] was noting, 'I have now dined off camel, antelope, dog, donkey, mule, and elephant, which I approve in the order in which I have written ... horse is really too disgusting, and it has a peculiar taste never to be forgotten.' His was not the only palate that became more discriminating: there was a significant variation in price between brewery and sewer rats. ... A lamb offered to one British correspondent ironically proved to be a wolf. ...
"Oddly enough, there was never any shortage of wine or other alcohol."
Alistaire Horne, Seven Ages of Paris, Pan Books, Copyright 2002 by Alistair Horne, pp. 295-297. "

Did You Know...

Did you know...

Billie Holiday’s famous, haunting song Strange Fruit was about lynchings in America’s Deep South? (I had no idea…) According to David Margolick’s book, Strange Fruit (Harper Collins, 2001) Holliday first sang Strange Fruit at Cafe Society in New York. Extraordinary YouTube video of Holiday singing the song here and lyrics here:

Southern trees bear a strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black body swinging in the Southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant South,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh,
And the sudden smell of burning flesh!
Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for a tree to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

“There wasn't even a patter of applause when I finished,' she later wrote in her autobiography. 'Then a lone person began to clap nervously. Then suddenly everybody was clapping.' The applause grew louder and a bit less tentative as Strange Fruit became a nightly ritual for Holiday, then one of her most successful records, then one of her signature songs, at least in those places where it was safe to perform."

Did you know...

Coffee seems to have been a Yemeni invention, according to Tom Standage in his A History of the World in Six Glasses (Walker, 2005):

"The custom of drinking coffee seems to have first become popular in Yemen in the mid-15th century. While coffee berries may have been chewed for their invigorating effects before this date, the practice of making them into a drink seems to be a Yemeni innovation, often attributed to Muhammad al-Dhabhani, a scholar and member of the mystical Sufi order of Islam, who died around 1470. By this time, coffee had undoubtedly been adopted by Sufis who used it to ward off sleep during nocturnal religious ceremonies in which participants reached out to God through repetitive chanting and swaying.
"Coffee shook off its original religious associations and became a social drink, sold by the cup on the street, in the market square, and then in dedicated coffeehouses. It was embraced as a legal alternative to alcohol by many Muslims. Coffeehouses, unlike the illicit taverns that sold alcohol, were places where respectable people could afford to be seen. But coffee's legal status was ambiguous. Some Muslim scholars objected that it was intoxicating and therefore subject to the same prohibition as wine and other alcoholic drinks, which the prophet Muhammad had prohibited. ... [A ban against coffee was therefore enacted by a local governor, Kha'ir Beg, and] was proclaimed throughout Mecca, coffee was seized and burned in the streets, and coffee vendors and some of their customers were beaten as punishment. Within a few months, however, higher authorities in Cairo overturned Kha'ir Beg's ruling, and coffee was soon being openly consumed again ... [since] coffee clearly failed to produce any intoxicating effects in the drinker ... [and] in fact, it did quite the opposite. ...
"By the early seventeenth century, visiting Europeans were commenting on the widespread popularity of coffeehouses in the Arab world, and their role as meeting places and sources of news. ... They were also popular venues for chess and backgammon, which were regarded as morally dubious. ... George Sandys, an English traveler who visited Egypt and Palestine in 1610, observed that 'although they be destitute of Taverns, yet they have their Coffa-houses, which something resemble them. There they sit chatting most of the day; and sippe of a drink called Coffa in little China dishes, as hot as they can suffer it; blacke as soote, and tasting not much unlike it.' "

Did you know...

A spice is not an herb … “herbs are leafy, whereas spices are obtained from other parts of the plant: bark, root, flower bud, gums and resins, seed, fruit, or stigma,” writes Jack Turner in Spice: The History of Temptation (Vintage, 2005).

“Herbs tend to grow in temperate climates, spices in the tropics. Historically, the implication was that a spice was far less readily obtainable than an herb--and far more expensive. ...
"Chemically, the qualities that make a spice a spice are its rare essential oils and oleoresins, highly volatile compounds that impart to spices their flavor, aroma, and preservative properties…
Briefly, the chemistry of spices — what in the final analysis makes a spice a spice — is, in evolutionary terms, what quills are to the porcupine or the shell to the tortoise. In its natural state cinnamon is an elegant form of armor; the seductive aroma of nutmeg is, to certain insects, a bundle of toxins. The elemental irony of their history is that the attractiveness of spices is (from the plant's perspective) a form of Darwinian backfiring. What makes a spice so appealing to humans is, to other members of the animal kingdom, repulsive.
"By any measure the most exceptional of the spices, and far and away the most historically significant, is pepper. The spice is the fruit of Piper nigrum, a perennial climbing vine native to India's Malabar Coast. ... Black pepper, the most popular variety, is picked while unripe. ... White pepper is the same fruit left longer on the vine."

Did you know:

“The Indians introduced the colonists not only to new foods, but to more interesting ways of preparing them,” according to Bill Bryson in Made in America Made in America (Perennial, 1995).

“Succotash, clam chowder, hominy, corn pone, cranberry sauce, johnny cakes, even Boston-baked beans and Brunswick stew were all Indian dishes. In Virginia, it was the Indians, not the white settlers, who invented the Smithfield ham. Even with the constant advice and intervention of the Indians, the Puritans stuck to a diet that was for the most part resolutely bland. Meat and vegetables were boiled without pity, deprived of seasonings, and served lukewarm. Peas, once they got the hang of growing them, were eaten at almost every meal, and often served cold. The principal repast was taken at midday and called dinner. Supper, a word related to soup, was often just that — a little soup with perhaps a piece of bread — and was consumed in the evening shortly before retiring. Lunch was a concept unknown, as was the idea of a snack. To the early colonists, snack meant the bite of a dog. ...
"By the time of the Revolution, the main meal was taken between 2 and 4 p.m. A typical meal might consist of salted beef with potatoes and peas, followed by baked or fried eggs, fish, and salad, with a variety of sweets, puddings, cheeses, and pastries to finish, all washed down with quantities of alcohol that would leave most of us today unable to rise from the table — or at least rise and stay risen. Meat was consumed in quantities that left European observers slack-jawed with astonishment. By the early 1800s the average American was eating almost 180 pounds of meat a year, 48 pounds more than people would consume a century later, but fresh meat remained largely unknown because of the difficulty keeping it fresh. Even city people often had chickens in the yard and a hog or two left to scavenge in the street. Until well into the nineteenth century, visitors to New York remarked on the hazard to traffic presented by wandering hogs along Broadway. Even in the more temperate North, beef and pork would go bad in a day in summer, chicken even quicker, and milk would curdle in as little as an hour. And even among the better classes, spoiled food was a daily hazard. One guest at a dinner party given by the Washingtons noted with a certain vicious relish that the General discreetly pushed his plate of sherry trifle to one side when he discovered that the cream was distinctly iffy but that the less discerning Martha continued shoveling it in with gusto. Ice cream was a safer operation. It was first mentioned in America in the 1740s when a guest at a banquet given by the governor of Maryland wrote about this novelty, which, he noted, 'eat most deliciously.' "

I’ve had all these fascinating bits of information land in my inbox over the past few months thanks to Delanceyplace, “a brief daily email with an excerpt or quote” from a non-fiction work that the Delanceyplace editors “view as interesting or noteworthy, offered with commentary to provide context”.
Food information is in the minority, but most of the daily emails are just as interesting, containing the sort of stuff that will make you sound extraordinarily well-read and rounded at your next dinner party. You'll find details about how to organise your free subscription here.

A Dancer's Story

As I've mentioned before, very few of the articles I write for theage(melbourne)magazine (and, from now on, for The Sydney Morning Herald's the(sydney)magazine), end up online. The magazines don't have websites, nor pages within their home newspaper's websites, a situation our division is working to change.
But here's one that did go up: a profile I wrote for the November edition of theage(melbourne)magazine of Li Cunxin, the ballet-dancer-turned-stockbroker turned-bestselling author of Mao's Last Dancer.
He's a fascinating man who wins hearts wherever he goes and, early next year, Australian film director Bruce Beresford (Breaker Morant, Driving Miss Daisy) will start work on the film version of Li's life — from Chinese commune and poverty, to the world's stages as a principal dancer.

Posts about Potatoes

Guess what sort of weekend I had...

Choked Up

Artichoke

So tonight, I spent an hour with four artichokes.
As my colleague John Lethlean admitted in his recent Age column, I've also avoided bringing artichokes into my kitchen. First and only other artichoke experiment resulted in them totally collapsing on me as I pared away, and pared away.
Yesterday though, they looked so tantalising in the fruit and vegetable shop ...
And so tonight, I spent an hour with four artichokes. Marcella Hazan's Classic Italian Cookbook spread out before me. Studying her illustrations, lemon halves and acidulated water everywhere.
And it all seemed to go really rather well. Rubbed a paste of mint, parsley, garlic, salt and pepper outside, and inside where the nasty choke once was. Laid them in a saucepan with olive oil and water. Wet cloth over the top, then the lid. Marcella told me to cook for up to 40 minutes. The aroma? Magic... The apartment filled with a divine, garlicky-minty fragrance and I was happy.
I returned to the distressing online search for a decent and affordable new apartment to rent in Sydney. (To afford an inner-city place remotely equivalent to home now, I'll have to live on potatoes and cabbage, darn holes in my socks, turn collars inside out or whatever you do with them, abandon shoe shopping, French cheese shopping ...)
My attention wandered from Surry Hills to Bondi, Glebe to Alexandria. My attention was not on the stove.
Not a mistake a smart cook would make. (Not a mistake the chefs who will be hired by Jamie Oliver to cook at his new UK high street chain of "neighbourhood" restaurants serving "authentic Italian" food would make.)
But knee-deep in real-estate anxiety, I let my artichokes, the hour-long artichokes, burn dry. Mush they were, mush.
And my hands lemon-shrivelled and my artichoke-confidence shattered.

Apropos Nothing 2

While I'm sitting here agonising over my future, I'm listening live to the Parisian radio station Nova Planet. How cool is that?
Great stuff that makes me wish I was sitting on a sidewalk with a glass of Chablis in Belleville or Rue Oberkampf or being hip at La Perle in the Marais. ... Aquarius (Galt MacDermot), Love is Something (Brides of Funkenstein), Wayfaring Stranger (Jamie Woon/Burial).

Apropos Nothing 1

Apropos nothing, Gwyneth Paltrow and orange-clog-wearing New York chef Mario Batali will apparently tour Spain together to produce a food program about Spanish food. (Bit of a concern that Gwyneth apparently doesn't eat pork or beef.)
And, while we're on the subject, I'd draw your attention to my right-hand column of links here, where my current "Article Spotlight" links to a terrific story in The Financial Times about the television-film chef epidemic. Lower down the column under the "Chefs" heading I link to a New York Times article about Batali's Michigan retreat.
I'm hoping that you find the time to browse through the archive of links in the right-hand column of Elegant Sufficiency, which I do update. I'd be interested in your feedback about their usefulness. As I think I've said before, to make my blog more appealing and useful, to get you to linger longer, I am attempting to be a gatekeeper for you — filtering content to bring busy people only what I believe to be worth reading. To a degree, I'm also doing it for myself, for a couple of reasons: many of the articles I link to may be useful background for myself in the future when researching and writing articles; and the articles under country headings hopefully will provide me (and you) with tips when I finally get to travel to those countries (a bit like the hard copy files I keep on different places I want to visit).
I am concerned that the way these links are presented really isn't terribly useful to you, but I don't have the time (or possibly the brain power) to nut out how to use the available Typepad technology to present the links in the way I'd like.
And here's my bigger issue: finding, then adding links (then, later, checking that the links still work), in addition to writing my own material for the blog, all takes time and I have a sneaking suspicion I'm starting to resent that. There's also a chance that, in the not-too distant future, I may be returning to full-time work. Much more demanding full-time work. (I must be mad to be even considering such a foolish thing!) Something may have to go, even the blog altogether, if I'm to maintain my sanity — and find time for other personal writing projects.
So please, tell me, do you want them? Do you use them? How can I make them more useful?

Molecular Gastronomy and a Revised Deadline

As I trudge towards the, um, revised deadline for my Vue de monde article, my load is lightened just a little by some of the stuff I'm finding online as I search for one thing and another. Like this, on the subject of molecular gastronomy.

Getting Back on the Blog

Getting back on the blog … a challenge almost as great as that to get back on my bike (which, mercifully, the bike shop has pronounced to be less wounded as a result of my encounter with Melbourne’s tram-lines than I was!). Get out of the rhythm of posting something, anything, most days and it’s hard to get back into it. But, I’m trying. To summarise:

  • Vue de Monde apprentice experience is now but a memory, a selection of Mark Chew's wonderful photographs (including one of me wielding a broom and a sulky expression), and a mere 10,000 words of notes in my laptop (that will give me a bigger headache over the next week to deadline than 1.6 kilograms of Brussels sprouts). Think I’ll be hunkering down at the State Library again to clear myself of distractions.
  • Weekend just past in Sydney with family: the ever-blonder, sassier 17-month-old remembered me (oh, the warm glow!) and the silly game we played last time I saw her; my brother’s Sunday-night porcini risotto was a triumph, as was my second testing of a brilliant lemon tart recipe that will appear in this space at some point soon; our unscheduled trip to a hospital emergency ward with my father stressful, alarming, but the diagnosis after some hours thankfully fairly routine.
  • Some memorable dishes out since I’ve been back: a sublime soufflé at VdM (dehydrated raspberries, reduced to a powder, mixed with sugar and coating the soufflé dish) during my first experience of the restaurant on the well-dressed side of the pass; and, at Paul Mathis’s new 100 Mile Cafe, some brilliant and conscionable flavours – smoked duck sushi, pan-fried Murray cod with steamed bok choy and a tomato and lime salsa, and another fine soufflé – a rhubarb one with a very striking camomile icecream.
  • And finally, thought it fascinating that this morning’s home-page list of The New York Times’s “Most Popular” articles was topped by a piece headed "For the Gluten-Averse, a Menu That Works". (Beating “Top Lender Sees Mortgage Woes for ‘Good Risks” at number 2; “Harley Woos Female Bikers” at number 4; and "Study says Obesity Can be Contagious" at number 5.) The piece looks at the burgeoning number of restaurants catering to gluten-intolerant diners, including Greenwich Village’s Risotteria, which among other things, offers gluten-free breadsticks, cookies and pizza. Perhaps my I’ll-eat-anything attitude has blinkered me, but I was astonished by the number of orders with special dietary requests that came in every service during my time in the VdM kitchen: shellfish and nut allergies, lactose and gluten intolerances … I’m sorry, but I just can’t help being cynical. Are they all for real?

PS: In response to Jaden's comment on my last post, I went searching for the origin of the word offal. It comes from “off”-“fall” – that which falls off a butcher’s block.

Germaine Greer in The Guardian

Remarkable article by Germaine Greer in The Guardian on Australia's treatment of its indigenous people, and the Howard Government's move to send in the troops, now widely reported and condemned around the world.

Take This 2

Another link I've been meaning to throw your way is to an interesting web creature called delanceyplace.com, "eclectic little exerpts delivered to your email every day" (you can subscribe for free). Drawn from any number of sources, recently they've included passages from The Beatles Anthology in which John, Paul, George and Ringo talk about the days when they drove their own van; information about the history of beer, from Tom Standage's A History of the World in Six Glasses; and, from Bill Bryson's Made in America, an excerpt about how the forefathers dined, with particular reference to American Indians' influence on the colonists' diet.
And this, from J.M. Roberts' A Short History of the World, an unremittingly fascinating passage on "fire, cooking, restrained impulses, and language":

"Many peoples have had legends of heroic figures or magical beasts who first seize fire, often from the gods. Perhaps this reflects a dim memory that the first fire was taken from a natural source, whether from volcanic activity, an outbreak of natural gas, or a blazing forest. However it was obtained, the use of fire was revolutionary. ... Immediately, it meant warmth and light, the conquest of the cold and the dark and therefore the extension of the habitable environment into them, even if only a little way at first. ... By occupying caves whose darkness had previously made them unusable, they were safer from the weather. Animals could now be driven out of their lairs and kept out. Wooden spears could be hardened in fire. Cooking became possible. As a result, eating became easier; marrow can be sucked out of cooked bones but getting it out raw is a laborious experience. Gibbons and gorillas have to spend much of their time simply chewing their raw food; cooking saved time, for food softened by it did not have to be chewed so long. Time was thus made available to do other things. More important still, substances indigestible in their raw state could become sources of food; distasteful or bitter plants could be made edible. This must have increased food supply and therefore made population growth a little easier. ... Finally, in the long run, eating cooked food helped to alter the shape of the face and the form of the teeth.
"Cooking would have encouraged further restraint on immediate impulses, too: you put off eating and did not give way to immediate appetite by swallowing raw food. The focus of the cooking fire as a source of light and warmth would have brought people together around it after dark and helped make a group more aware of itself as a community. They would have talked somehow: the development of language—of whose origins we know little—must have speeded up in this setting.
J.M.Roberts, A Short History of the World, Oxford, 2007, p. 10.

Take This

While I feel sorry for myself and seek consolation in slices of warmed panettone (the perk that came home with me this morning from an interview I couldn't dodge) and cups of lemony-honeyed tea, you'll have to put up with some interesting links rather than proper posts. Have only just realised that the Time magazine photo essay that I mentioned a week or so ago is part of a larger Time series — "Time's Summer Journey: We Are What We Eat". Other articles in the series include a profile of fusion pioneer Jean-Georges Vongerichten, a day in the life of a coffee bar in Rome, and a video showing a kaiseki kitchen in full flow. Great stuff.

Article Spotlight


  • New Yorker film reviewer Anthony Lane goes to see 'Sex and the City' hoping for a nice evening out but, when the lights go up, he's left with "a deep sadness in the sight of Carrie and friends defining themselves not ... by their talents, their hats, and the swordplay of their wits but purely by their ability to snare and keep a man".

Blog Spotlight


  • Mahanandi is a temple town in the Indian state of Andhra Pradesh — and the name of a fascinating vegan blog focusing on "cooking with consciousness".

Food Blogs

Food Photography