Home Made – Lamb Pilaf

I love cooking in winter. It’s the perfect time of the year for comfort food, spicy curries and one-pot wonders. Everybody knows that curries are better left in the freezer for a bit and it’s a great opportunity to bulk cook and give yourself the odd night off. Being as I’ve just started a Masters in Gastronomic Tourism, those nights could become rather more frequent, so you’ll see a few more one-pot wonders and quick easies over what could well be the next 5 years.

First up is my favourite Middle-Eastern dish. The aromatic spices are gorgeous with the tart sweetness of the cranberries, and the harissa gives it the heat you want on a cold night. Mind you don’t overdo it though – start with a little less until you’re familiar with the heat level.

SPICED LAMB PILAF

Serves 2

1 tablespoon olive oil

250 grams lamb fillet, chopped

½ red onion, finely chopped

1 garlic clove, finely chopped

½ teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

1/2 cinnamon quill

1 teaspoon harissa paste or other chilli paste

1/2 cup medium grain rice

1 ½ cups unsalted chicken stock

1 tomato, seeds removed, finely chopped

1 tablespoon chopped coriander, plus sprigs to serve

1 tablespoon craisins or cranberries

1 tablespoon roasted pine nuts

Thick greek yoghurt and pomegranate seeds, to serve.

Heat half of the olive oil in a frying pan over high heat and cook the lamb in batches until browned. Remove from pan and set aside.

Add remaining oil to frypan and cook the onion, stirring for 5 minutes or until softened. Add the garlic, cumin, allspice, cinnamon and harissa and stir to combine. Stir in the rice, stock and tomato. Return the meat to the pan and season. Bring to a simmer, then reduce heat to low, cover and cook, stirring occasionally for 30 minutes or until the meat is cooked through.

Stir in coriander, craisins or cranberries and pine nuts. Serve topped with yoghurt, coriander sprigs and pomegranate seeds.

Balla – Pyrmont, Sydney

I have so often heard it said that your enjoyment (or not) of a dining experience is predetermined or at the very least enhanced or tainted by your mood, company, the occasion, etc., etc. I used to agree. Until I dined at Balla. My day was shocking. My week had been worse. I virtually ran to the restaurant (in heels) to make my booking, because the cabbie decided the distance wasn’t worth the fare and roared away, leaving me kerbside in the cold.

I’ve said this before, but as a solo female business traveller I always appreciate the ease with which some restaurants welcome the single diner. In Balla’s case, not only was my reception devoid of the raised eyebrow and loaded “table-for-one?”, it was warm, instant and genuine.

This popular and well rated restaurant offers outstanding service and exceptional food but lacks the pretention that you might expect from other similarly classed establishments. The menu is perfectly Italian, sublimely balanced with classic, modern and local influences.

I started with the instantly proffered Prosecco and ordered the squid ink tagliolini with spanner crab, broccolini, chilli and garlic. I don’t know what made me do it – I never imagined I’d eat something nature created as a deterrent. Perhaps it was a premonition that if I was ever going to try it, Stefano Manfredi – with 30 years of excellence under his hat (4 of them over the years, mind you) – would be the restaurateur to deliver it. I wasn’t wrong. The squid ink is the hero of this perfectly al dente pasta, although it doesn’t override the moist delicacy of the spanner crab, the light crunch of broccoli and hint of chilli.

I love a restaurant that offers venison – better yet when it comes nestled on soft polenta, slightly gnarly mushrooms and is itself delicately charred with peppery sweetness. I paired this with a glass of Brangero Nebbiolo 2009 from Alba, Italy and couldn’t have been happier. It wielded a touch of spice, vanilla, perfect length and just enough tannin to hold its own and complement the dish. So good in fact that I opted for the truffled pecorino and another glass, in lieu of dessert. A mite too much of the truffle for my taste, but a great finish to an almost perfect food experience regardless.

South Africa’s Wild

Apologies for the silence over the past few weeks, but we’ve been playing in Africa’s back yard. This blog (and the destination) is a bit off the beaten track but it’s worthy of the deviation.

Six weeks ago we flew into Johannesburg and drove from there to Kruger Park. The Highveld this time of year is resplendent with cosmos-fringed golden wheat. The countryside is flat and pockmarked with powerlines, African huts and tin shanties.

Two hours into the drive the terrain starts changing and the veld gives way to hills, rocky outcrops and glistening silver streams. This is the lowveld – rugged and wildly beautiful. Another two hours and the hills stretch out again and the sun lights up the scrub in a hazy mirage.

We entered the park through Malelane gate to the south and half an hour into the bush saw our first (and last) leopard. Very fortunate, as leopards are solitary cats and spotting them (pardon the pun) takes a very good eye and a lot of luck.

Three weeks before our trip the park was given a proper soaking – nature’s green light for baby-dropping. From hyena pups, zebra foals and elephant calves to suckling monkeys and baby baboons – we saw them all.

Dense, rain-sodden bush is not ideal for game viewing, but the abundance of succulent vegetation and flowing water works its way up the food chain and fills the pantry. Just as well too, when you’re up close and personal in an open Land Rover with a sated old lion.

The rhino, giraffe and Impala were so prolific we stopped counting. We saw close to 300 buffalo grazing and drinking on the other side of a very full river. Magnificent, really rather silly-looking beasts – though only marginally less stupid than the wildebeest. Mind you, the sight of millions of them migrating over the Serengeti I’m sure must command the utmost respect.

Of course I can’t write about Kruger without telling you a little about what’s on the menu for us two-legged creatures. There is nothing like a bit of biltong, a fine Cape chardonnay and the sound of the hippos guffawing as the sun dips behind river.

Ditto a good slab of beef cooked on an open fire (braai). Pair it with a slow-cooked, very South African “pap en sous” (maize-based type of savoury porridge with chilli, tomato and onion sauce) and you’ll know what I mean. There is no gourmet fare in the park and if there was, it would only wreck the joy of so much of what we go there for – the simplicity of cooking over a flame, under the stars – just the crackle of wood and distant roar of lions cutting through the silence.

This is God’s country and if you don’t believe me, one look at the gold dust He sprinkles over this wild land at sunset should convince you.

The Best of My Breakfasts in Brisbane

Some time ago I promised to write this for some friends. It’s way overdue, but at least now a little more up to date with some great new brekkie spots.

First to mention has to be Papa Jack’s in Fortitude Valley. Exciting. Different. Really different. Old but new, funky and just bordering on the edge of recreation, Papa Jacks will transport you to the Creole South the second you walk through the door. It’s soul food served with a side of swamp blues and green tomatoes. Imagine soft poached eggs topped with lemony hollandaise. Add fall-apart, herby pulled pork; melted Swiss cheese, a crisp baguette and you’re getting the picture. They call it the Breaux Bridge Benedict and it would almost be worth travelling to its namesake in Louisiana to get it.

Next on the list of funky new day-starters is The Burrow in West End. Offerings like “Mad Madam Mims’ Bubble & Squeak”, “Mr McGregor’s Garden” and “Off with your Head!” gives you just an inkling of the creativity at play here. My great adventurous friend, who uncovered this gem, ordered the “Django Swinehardt” – gypsy braised pork belly with roast chestnuts, crisp sweet-potato shavings, eggs and borscht (beetroot soup). Not that everything else wasn’t absolutely perfect – the slow-braised pork, tangy pureed beetroot, shards of crispy skin and buttery potatoes – but the sweet crunch of the kumara crisps are the culinary gold nuggets in this inspired dish.

I opted for “Little Miss Sunshine” primarily because I’m a Persian feta and zucchini flower addict. I loved the crunch of the pepitas and sunflower seeds; the happy marriage of the basil and tomato on rye, but I’ll stick with tempura (not grilled) flowers in future.

Speaking of stuffed zucchini flowers – if you want the best try Pearl Café in Woolloongabba. Their rendition is tempura-battered and served stuffed with ash-infused goat’s cheese, preserved lemon and herbs. The coffee is great too.

Not far away at the end of Oxford Street in Bulimba is one of our favourite regulars. The Jetty has been around for a while and although they have changed the menu (so I can no longer get my favourite poached eggs with avo, dukkah and candied bacon) they are still worth a mention. You can’t fault the riverside location and their juice blends – especially orange, carrot and ginger – are gorgeous on a hot summer morning. Their house-smoked trout is a treat with poached eggs, lemon crème fraiche and hash brown.

Also offering a great view is The Edge restaurant at Kangaroo Point Cliffs. I almost always take first-time visitors to Brisbane here for breakfast. Their fare is more simple, but always perfectly prepared, generously substantial and you can’t beat the view of Brisbane city on a clear day.

Further west in Paddington you’ll find Anouk – an exceptional café offering all things Middle-Eastern with contemporary flair. The menu changes regularly but anything I’ve ever had here has been beautifully prepared and presented.

Finally if you’re feeling a little nostalgic and want a simple, healthy and quick brekkie you’d be very happy with the Coffee Club’s new Salmon and Avocado Stack. I have had it at Eagle Street Pier and at Oxford Street in Bulimba and both are worth a mention.

Red Lantern – Surry Hills & Darlinghurst, Sydney

A while ago I took my first foray into Surry Hills and had lunch at Red Lantern on Crown. Like the buildings surrounding it, Red Lantern is steeped in history and you can almost feel the walls leaning in to tell you their stories. Dark wood furnishings are adorned with family pictures and Indochine treasures. Deep reds and an ancient fireplace extend the warm welcome of the staff.

On this occasion I dined on my own and was delighted with the option of ordering two half mains. This is the only restaurant I know that offers the option of “down-sizing” and I think it’s a great idea. I started with the turmeric chicken rice paper rolls and chilli dipping sauce. The joy of Vietnamese food is its sublime delicacy. Getting it right requires a deft hand and absolute balance. If you want to know what I mean, this is the dish to try. I followed this with wok tossed beef and a moist herbed and delicately spiced fish, which I’m disappointed and ashamed to admit I can’t remember the name of, particularly because it was one of the best pieces of fish I’ve had. Apart from the food, I was profoundly impressed with the easy comfort of eating here on my own. The staff was attentive, friendly and deeply perceptive – bringing me some of the outstanding recipe books on offer to keep me occupied while waiting for my food.

A few weeks ago I spent the weekend in Sydney with my husband and decided to try Red Lantern on Riley in Darlinghurst. This latest addition to the Nguyen/Jensen collaboration is bigger and more modern than its counterpart in Surry Hills, but still offers a good nod to its roots.

Being as we were happy to settle in for a bottle (or two) and soak up the experience, we opted for the tasting menu. This is my favourite way to eat – a perfectly portioned offering of the many ingredients and techniques unique to a culture and cuisine. It’s like taking an experiential walk down the culinary halls of Vietnam.

Rice paper rolls with lemongrass chicken, marinated chillies and seaweed started our journey, along with lightly battered squid and lemon pepper dipping sauce. I have seen my husband eat fish erroneously served by friends twice in the past 13 years. This time it was by choice and he ploughed through that squid as if it was a bowl of popcorn and we were watching a scary movie.

The twice cooked pork belly with som tam (green papaya salad) was just as successful and probably one of my favourite dishes. Who doesn’t love perfectly moist pork with crispy skin – but in a Vietnamese salad is the best way to eat it. The herbs and lime cut through the richness and I would put chilli, roasted peanuts and fried shallots on everything if I could. The duck was a bit over-smoked and so the plum sauce and tamari were not overly noticeable.

The barbecued pork ribs marinated in hoi sin sauce rewarded with a deeply infused flavour, moist flesh and a sweet glazed finish. The winner for me though was the grassfed black angus sirloin, simply wok tossed with garlic and black pepper. I suppose it’s the truly smoking oil and years of seasoning a traditional wok that imparts a caramelisation to the meat that you’d never get any other way. It’s the only time I’ve ever regretted having induction rather than gas in my own kitchen.

If you live in Brisbane and want to taste a little of the magic Luke Nguyen has created, try The Fat Noodle at the Treasury Casino in Brisbane. A wholly different dining experience with a menu more appropriate to the pop-in diner, but no less enjoyable – especially if you have never had Pho and want to try it. This is a staple Vietnamese soup, often eaten for breakfast. It is the most delicate yet complicated soup. Simmered for hours and hours, the result is a salty, sour and hot broth that takes years of practice to perfect. The broth is generally served with noodles, finely sliced beef (added raw just before serving) and herbs.

Of the three, I’d have to say my favourite is Red Lantern on Crown in Surry Hills -but then I’m an old romantic and love the idea that this is where it all started.

Three Blue Ducks – Bronte, Sydney

I’ve been to Sydney on business just about every month for the last two years and I’ve eaten at many great restaurants. This last weekend I flew my husband to Sydney for his birthday. With only three nights at hand I spent some time agonising over which restaurants to take him to. Three Blue Ducks in Bronte was my only given – and they didn’t let me down. Thank heavens. Because one hour before our reservation we took a peek at the menu online. Looking like he’d sucked a lemon, my rather conservative and very much steak-and-veg-loving husband implored “is THAT the menu?”.

Not that he won’t try something a little different – when I cook it. I’m not sure if that’s because he knows I’m sentient to his taste or if it’s just because the poor chap hasn’t got a choice, but in general when we go out his choice is steak, spuds and greens. Nonetheless, he stepped up to the challenge and the boys prevailed. Not really three blue ducks anymore, but five, these guys have created something together that is what I can only describe as understated brilliance.

Three Blue Ducks, in the heart of Bronte, is warm, welcoming and utterly unpretentious, but the atmosphere belies the excellence underpinning its success. It may present as more of a cafe, but with ex-Tetsuya head chef Darren Robertson in the mix with home-grown and locally sourced produce, you’re in for a treat. The fusion of characters and cuisines, from five surfers with varying histories to the strong influence of Morocco and Asia, makes for an interesting result.

Of course I’ve eaten here before, popping in once for a quick lunch and great coffee, but it was lovely to take the time to soak up the salty twilight with a glass of pinot noir and the waft of chargrill drifting across the room.

Did I mention the service is impeccable? Our pork and beef dumplings with ponzu (soy citrus dressing) arrived within minutes. Delicate silky dumplings with a slightly sweet, salty and sour dressing was the perfect entree.

The duck, cooked on the bone, served with chilli jam, greens and wild but delicate mushrooms was perfectly moist. The hero here though is the chilli jam. I could eat it with anything, on it’s own, by the jar or straight out of the pot … and now that I have the recipe, I intend to.

My husband, the fillet king, loved his flank steak – perfectly chargrilled, butter-soft and simply salted. Not partial to zucchini or squash, he devoured this almond and parmesan rendition – and I will not rest until I can make it myself (hint for your next recipe book chaps). My man would equally love me to recreate the mushrooms with pearl barley, macadamia bread sauce and labne he ordered on the side. Lucky for him this one is in “The Blue Ducks” recipe book and lucky for me I now have another carb to play with.

We sidestepped the smoked potato ice-cream (for reasons afore mentioned) and opted instead for the strawberries with yuzu curd, salted meringues and goat’s milk. Like everything else here, simple but exciting, crunchy and soft, sweet and salty, sour but delicate. The yuzu curd (yuzu being an East Asian sort of cross between a mandarin and a grapefruit) was knockout. Again – pot, jar, spoon.

I couldn’t be more pleased that from wary trepidation, this turned out to be one of my husband’s favourite food experiences. Proof that if you (or your partner) is a fussy eater you may well step over the precipice into a food wonderland and not be disappointed at Three Blue Ducks.

As for me, I’m off to make a Sunday-night Blue Duck “kick arse steak sandwich”.

The Townmouse – Carlton, Melbourne

It’s places like these that really do separate the mice from the men. Chic industrial finishes belie the seamless complexity and beauty of the dishes here. This is what gets me really excited about food – cracking creativity pulled together with subtle sophistication and the greatest respect.

The menu is short, but by no means simple. It’s perfectly suited to a great night out with friends, but just as apposite for the lone diner – as is the service. I never fail to appreciate the easy, warm welcome and comfort some establishments are so deft at lavishing on solo travellers.

The wine list is equally impressive – comprehensive and clearly crafted to complement a universal menu. A stunning variety of wines by the glass are happily conducive to the little taste travel the menu maps out. A sweetly oaked, subtle French chardonnay starts the journey in style with a blushing pink, silky smooth smoked duck liver parfait and carries through just as well with the goat’s cheese profiteroles with caraway, thyme and honey.

The menu is expertly fused from a diversity of the world’s best cuisines and you can literally go from France to Italy and Spain on one plate.

Delicate poached chicken with ricotta dumplings, pickled king oyster mushrooms, Spanish avruga butter with savoury herbs and subtly infused garlic oil make the perfect entrée – or main if you start with tapas as I did and pair it with a veggie dish. Perhaps some summer beans with preserved orange and rosemary ricotta, or some slow roasted red cabbage with prune, parmesan and red apple?

If you’re curious like me, this is one of the few places you can try orange wine and I highly recommend it. I tried the 2008 Denovolo Italian orange and I’m pleased I did. It’s complexity is completely at home with the menu, although I would recommend it with a more robust dish than the chicken.

You’ll find The Townmouse at 312 Drummond Street, Carlton – a short but happy deviation from Lygon Street.

Note: I apologise for the poor quality of these photos – I literally popped in for a quick bite (sans my real camera) not expecting to be so utterly wowed and had to resort to my trusty iPhone.

Billy Kart Kitchen – Annerley, Brisbane

Just a few months old and nestled in a seemingly unlikely location, Billy Kart Kitchen has quickly become a local favourite and popular all-day breakfast and lunch destination.

The setting is vastly different to chef/owner Ben O’Donoghue’s last venture at Southbank Surf Club, but the menu is a nod to his unchanged food ethos – fresh, simple and seasonal. The menu is concise, a little playful and thoroughly modern with superfoods, organics, pickles and some very young wines on offer.

The pulled pork I’d heard so much about wasn’t available the day we visited, so we opted instead for a rib eye steak with bearnaise and spice crusted Blue Eye with fennel and celery.

The trevalla was a triumph. Plump, moist flesh that pulled apart with a feather touch under a crispy crust of dukkah-inspired spices and herbs. I would give anything for the recipe for the fennel and celery dressing, which worked sublimely with the crunch of the vegetables and smokiness of the tomato salsa. A truly exciting dish that I would be hard-pressed to forego even if I could get the pulled pork .

Although not my husband’s favourite cut, the steak was perfectly prepared and the bearnaise sauce silky simplicity.

Also on offer is a range of cakes, bagels, Campos coffee and owing to its corner-store roots – freshly baked bread, milk and newspapers.

Billy Kart Kitchen is open 7 days a week for breakfast and lunch and Friday evenings for dinner.

Christmas Classics

Having grown up in cooler climes and despite the heat in Brisbane I can’t help yenning for a little tradition at Christmas. So every now and again I test the nether limits of our air conditioner and yield to a little yuletide indulgence.

This year it was Manu’s roast beef with red wine reduction (from Manu’s French Kitchen) that had me hanging out for some of those perfect little puffy pillows of heaven – aka Yorkshire puddings. By Manu’s own admission, the French stole their roast beef from the English, so the two work stunningly together and despite being ridiculously easy, it’s a perfect Christmas dinner-party pleaser.

Be warned though – it’s all about the timing. Trust Manu when he says DO NOT cook your beef past medium-rare. And absolutely DO plate your beef before slicing (general rule is to plate for half the time it took too cook). I served mine with simple roasted pumpkin and baby peas soaked in boiling water (I never actually cook them).

So if you’re in for a little post-Christmas last gasp (or if it’s your turn next year), here’s my bullet-proof, easy as Yorkie recipe …

Ingredients (makes 12):

vegetable oil

285 ml milk

115 g plain flour

a pinch of salt

3 eggs

Preheat the oven to 230°C and mix the batter ingredients together.

Preheat a Yorkshire pudding (or muffin) tray with 1 cm of oil in each section. After 10 minutes, remove from the oven and divide the batter into the tray. Don’t be alarmed if it looks like it’s curdling – this is dead right. Cook for about 30 minutes until crisp. Do not open the oven door before then or they will not rise. If you want to save yourself the trouble (and don’t have a pyrolitic oven), a handy tip is put wax paper on your full-sized roasting tray and place your muffin tray on top of it so it catches any oil spillover.

You’ll find Manu’s roast beef recipe on page 117 of Manu’s French Kitchen. This is one of my favourite recipe books, albeit French cooking is generally loaded with love (aka butter), every now and again there’s nothing like it. You can get Manu’s books here. His latest (Manu’s French Bistro) is number one on my wish list and if you haven’t seen any of the Boy’s Weekend series, they’re great fun to watch.

Eat Street Markets – Hamilton Wharf, Brisbane

Somebody recently sent me a link to a great new online publication, The Weekend Edition (WE). I immediately subscribed and once a week on a Thursday I get an update of what’s on in Brisbane, from new restaurants and bars to events, movies and hot shops for men and women.

Early December WE showcased a great new foodie destination in Brisbane – Eat Street Markets at Hamilton Wharf, Northshore. Adjacent to Portside Wharf, the Asian-inspired market consists of a myriad of pop-up restaurants, a couple of wine and coffee bars and a few crafty shops – all housed in converted shipping containers and offering a staggering variety of international cuisine.

Happily, this is to be a permanent fixture but is only open on Friday and Saturday nights from 4pm until 10pm. A centre stage offers free live entertainment and it’s easy to while away a couple of hours soaking up the great energy and balmy summer nights.

It’s pretty hard to choose from the fabulous 50 or so food stalls and your nose will undoubtedly have you teetering between many, but if you want a dead cert go for Chitty Banh Banh.

Owned and run by Jake and Elle of My Kitchen Rules’ fame, it’s funky, exciting food, served generously and well. My husband and I both chose the Banh Mi chilli caramel pork with pickled carrot (it looked way too good to consider anything else), so I can only write about one main but I can’t imagine anything being better. A fabulous Asian influence on a thoroughly contemporary dish of pulled pork with pickle, topped with crispy shallots, peanuts and a sauce that brings it all together with surprising sophistication. I can’t say I was wild about the lotus root chips (personal taste only) but their lime and lychee ice cream could start a war. I’ve also heard about their Thai basil ice cream and might just have to go back and sample this after some betel-wrapped Wagyu.

And maybe on my third and fourth visit I’ll get to some of the other great looking grub – there’s Malaysian, Hungarian, Greek, Korean and many, many others to sample. It’s a great way to eat cheap, with a generous side of atmosphere and lashings of fresh air.

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