Taste Buddies - A Sydney Food Blog

Strawberry Tart

Week four into the pastry module and I am well and truly on a butter high. Not exactly great for the cholesterol but I’ve only got two weeks left until the end of term.

One of our recent lessons included making sweet paste, also known as “pate sucree”. 

Sweet paste is used for tart bases or shortbread cookies. There are several methods in which to make it with the ‘creaming’ or ‘rub in’ method resulting in a lighter and crumblier end product. 

There are a few important points to remember when making sweet paste, especially if it’s for a tart base.
First, when mixing or kneading the dough, do so with a light, gentle touch. Overworking the dough develops the gluten strands and results in a tough and often dry crumb.

Secondly, when the recipe says ‘rest the dough’ – rest the dough. No shortcuts or shaving off a few minutes here or there.

Resting pate sucree means wrapping it in plastic cling wrap and allowing it to sit in the fridge for about 20 to 30 minutes. If you don’t let it rest, the dough will be too soft to handle and shrink if you try to bake it.  A dismal thing if it’s ever happened to you but it's something that can be avoided by just being patient. 

This strawberry tart took me a lot of time and patience to make. It's a scorching summer here in Sydney and soaring temperatures don't exactly make for perfect pastry-making conditions. Handling buttery pastry can be a difficult thing in the heat but I did it.

The tart was filled with a luscious dark chocolate crème patisserie and topped with fresh strawberries.

It was a funny moment when I'd finished taking photos of the tart. It was so lovely to look at. I stared at it for a while and realized with a slight twinge of disappointment that all there was to do now was to eat it.

I have found this attachment occurring throughout my pastry-making. And I'm not the only one. My classmates suffer from the same parental urges. We all hover protectively over our own danishes in class.

Ultimately, the eating always beats the looking.

Berry & Ricotta Danishes

There’s something magical and fascinating about puff pastry and the way the buttery dough rises up to form crisp, golden layers of which there are anywhere between 513 up to 1459.

This week I’ll be learning for a second time in my life how to make puff pastry from scratch.

I first made it at the Pacific Culinary Institute in Vancouver. It was time-consuming work requiring what seemed like endless rolling combined with deft handling of the dough. And, then there was the butter. Oh so much of it, carefully and methodically rolled in between each layer.

It is thought that early puff pastry found its origins in Rome but was then re-introduced and perfected in the 17th Century by legendary French chef Marie Antoine Carême.

Carême, who likened the art of pastry to architecture, is credited with developing the ‘six turn’ method that resulted in unparalleled layers of light, flaky pastry.

Well that’s all well and good if you’re a master pastry chef. I’m most certainly am not. Yet. 

For now I'll just stick to the store-bought kind, which for my purposes, is fantastic. While I’m not creating the kind of otherworldly delights found in Paris’ Poilane, I am winning friends nonetheless thanks to Careme pastry. 

Unlike other ready-made pastry Careme is actually handmade using natural ingredients. Based in South Australia's Barossa Valley, Careme sells four types of artisan pastry including sour cream shortcrust and all-butter puff pastry which I used to make these berry and ricotta danishes. 

Wagyu BBQ at Chef's Armoury, Sydney

I’ve never been a big carnivore, preferring to graze mostly on vegetables, legumes and seafood. Recently, however, I attended the Wagyu BBQ at the Chef’s Armoury in Sydney, where I ate about a month’s worth of the most succulent, tender and flavoursome beef I’ve ever tasted.

On the menu was Wagyu. Two varieties – grain fed and organic, grass-fed beef. Both were expertly barbecued on a traditional Hibachi grill by Chef’s Armoury owner, Leigh Hudson, and served with salad, grilled garlic skewers and fresh wasabi.

Wagyu is highly marbled Japanese beef, also known as Kobe beef. The marbling is what gives the beef its tenderness and complexity in flavour. A fellow guest aptly exclaimed that he could actually "feel the fat melting" in his mouth. I certainly could. It was almost addictive with each bite being somewhat of a revelation.

Thankfully I had other things to distract me from the beef binge -- Japanese knives. Some of the very best.  It's no wonder the Japanese are so skilled at creating such beautiful tools. In the home of the Samurai, forging sharp steel is a most esteemed craft.

 

Hudson's knives sit gleaming like museum artifacts in glass cases. Each one seems to speak to whomever looks upon it. Knives of all shapes and sizes. All Japanese. All exquisite.

Chef's Armoury 
747 - 751 Botany Road,
Rosebery NSW Australia
Tel: +61 2 9699 2353
www.chefsarmoury.com

Cumquat Marmalade

It’s been a long time since my last post. Thank you to those of you who have written to me to see if I’m still alive. I am. More than ever.  But busy. So, so busy.

I recently started studying to become a chef. While it’s a lot of fun, it’s also all consuming, so posts will be less frequent for a little while.

While I haven’t had much time to spare I did manage to attend a country wedding in a town called Wombat in south west New South Wales. I had hoped the town would live up to its name with constant sightings of the furry little creatures. While I never saw a wombat, the scenery didn’t disappoint. It was magical.

The wedding ceremony was held at the couples’ property amongst an orchard of blossoming cherry and apricot trees. I was suspicious. The blossoms were too perfect – like strategically placed props from a movie set.

I left Wombat in verdant daze lovingly clutching my gift from the bride and groom – a bottle of homemade apricot jam “made with love” from their own trees. That was it. I was moving to the country to grow my own fruit, harvest my own vegetables and bottle-feed lambs.

Two weeks later, I’m firmly ensconced back into city life but the dream of one day having my own patch of land, even a small backyard, is firmly lodged in my heart. And while I don’t have my own plot of land, I am living in a rather expansive, green urban haven with its own orchard of sorts.

Somage Fine Foods

Love for chocolate dates back thousands of years.

Some of the earliest records of chocolate consumption can be traced to classic Maya civilization in the 1st millennium AD.

Archeological digs have unearthed Mayan dignitaries buried alongside jars and bowls for chocolate. An 8th century painted vase depicts hot chocolate being held up high and poured into a bowl -- an ancient method of making froth.

Love for chocolate was profound and quickly found its way from pre-Columbian America to the courts and castles of Europe.

Today, millions of tonnes of chocolate are consumed every year around the world.

While everyone loves chocolate, some people take it a bit more seriously than others. Somage Fine Foods take chocolate seriously so that you can just have fun with it.

Based in Melbourne, Somage Fine Foods was borne out of passion and appreciation for quality produce. They sell a range of products including the gorgeous Kali drinking chocolate which is gluten and dairy-free.

I drink mine garnished with couverture sprinkles (pictured below) which makes it all the more luscious. Chocolate couverture is simply chocolate with high cocoa butter content. It pretty much melts as soon as you sprinkle it on and adds a rich texture to the smooth hot chocolate.

The best way to enjoy Kali drinking chocolate is by heating it in a pot on the stove with milk. The milk should be gently heated until just before it starts to steam thus allowing the dairy solids and cocoa to emulsify properly. 

For something with a little more kick, try the Kali chocolate coated coffee beans created with premium quality artisan roasted coffee and the finest grade couverture chocolate. But don't stop there.

Robertson Cheese Factory

When I think of Australia, the images that flit through my mind are of endless beaches (of which it has 30,000), tropical rain forest and stark landscapes of wild, dry bush that eventually peter out into hot red rock and dust.

Australia is infamous for its unforgiving desert and harsh terrains.  But even more famous, are Australia’s iconic sandy shores covered by bronzed bodies soaking in the sun like Galapagos lava lizards.

What many don’t know about, are the lush, verdant parts of this sun-burnt country. Endless bucolic countryside of rolling pastures, emerald green, dotted with dairy cows and pretty black-faced sheep. Almost every Australian State has parts which answer to this description. One such place is the Southern Highlands of New South Wales –- just a few hours’ drive from Sydney.

Housed in a beautiful old wooden building, the Robertson Cheese Factory is home to a team of “foodaholic visionaries” with a real focus on local and seasonal produce. Over 40% of the cheeses are produced locally. The rest are comprised of the best Australian Cheeses the factory can source, including Woodside Cheese Wrights, The Barossa Valley Cheese Company, Berry Creek Cheese Company, King Island Black Label Cheeses and many more. They also stock a vast range of French White Moulds and Blues and a number of Italian, and other European hard and soft cheeses. 

Two very talented chefs produce a range of pates, terrines, relishes, pickles, jams and gelatos on-site. And then there’s the honey-smoked trout. Without doubt the best smoked trout I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating.

The Robertson Cheese Factory is a very popular weekend breakfast spot with locals and tourists alike. The café is small (seating about 25) and offers sweeping views of the Robertson’s green, rolling hills. Homemade scones and jams make Devonshire tea a popular choice.

Apart from phenomenal cheeses, you can also pick up lots of other goodies at the Robertson Cheese Factory: quiches, jams, preserves, cakes, bread, fresh fruit and vegetables are all sold at the store and you can really taste the love that's gone into preparing their produce.

Visit them at their website, but I can tell you from experience that it’s much more fun to visit them at 107 Illawarra Hwy, Robertson NSW 2577.

Bacon & Egg Tarts

Sydney is a breakfast city. It does lunch well and perhaps dinner even better, but breakfast best fits its collective psychology.

When the weekend arrives cafes spill out on to the pavement with hungry customers vying for tables in anticipation of breaking their fast.

While I love going out for weekend brekkies, I can't stand the thought of lining up. It's been over 12 hours since my last meal. It can go one of two ways. One -- I faint. Two -- I turn violent.

For me, and those poor souls around me, hunger and queues are a potentially lethal mix. So the safest bet is to whip up something at home.

Last weekend I made these dainty little bacon and egg tarts spiked with a little Parmigino Reggiano for a sharp bite. The tarts are easy to make and are delicious served hot or cold. They're also quite nice with the addition of little baby spinach or wild rocket (arugula). 

Sauteed Silver Beet with Chickpeas & Fried Bread

 

When I think of a chickpeas I think of hummus, falafels, healthy salads and nourishing soups. The last thing that I’d ever associate with it is sex. But don’t let this modest little legume fool you. It once had quite a reputation as potent aphrodisiac.

The chickpea was a medieval form of Viagra. However instead of gulping down a small blue pill, you’d wash down copious amounts of chickpeas with a mug of honeyed camel’s milk... Makes me wild just thinking about it.

If, however, you happen to run out of camel milk, I have a great back-up plan which I am almost as wild about: Sauteed silver beet with chickpeas and fried bread.

This dish works well as a side or as a main. I usually eat it for lunch and if I have any left over it's a brilliant addition to soup. For the fried bread, I prefer ciabatta for its crunchy texture however you can use whatever type of bread is at hand. 

Just before serving I sprinkle on a little smoked paprika. While I only use a small amount, the paprika imparts a sweet, full-bodied smoky flavor and also adds a spicy kick to the dish. I use the La Chinata brand. It's divine and it's my magic ingredient in many recipes.

A note on the chickpeas, for this recipe I use the dried variety which require soaking followed by about an hour of boiling in salted water with garlic. Also, if you're wondering what silver beet is, it's that leafy green vegetable with white stalks and large crinkly leaves. It's sometimes called spinach.

Gordon Ramsay's Minestrone with Blue Eye Cod

On Friday I attended the 2009 Sydney Good Food & Wine Show. The main event of the day was bad boy Gordon Ramsay’s live cooking demonstration.

Ramsay bounded out on stage to greet the curious crowd with black masking tape over his mouth – was this promise not to offend after his recent comments about TV presenter Tracy Grimshaw? Or the more likely scenario -- an enforced gagging.

Whatever the case, Ramsay was funny, charming, a little crude perhaps but nonetheless, he delighted the crowd with his amusing quips and cooking tips.

I’ve only ever seen snippets of Ramsay’s infamous Hell’s Kitchen. Frankly I got anxious, and finally, bored watching him shout at and belittle quivering chefs.

After seeing him live though I can see why people are fascinated by him. He’s charismatic, he’s confident and he exuded a potent energy that spilled over into the crowd.

In the 30 minutes Ramsay was on stage he prepared three meals; a minestrone with blue eye cod, Tasmanian salmon on a bed of sautéed spinach and radishes and finally, some luscious looking poached pears served with caramelized figs.

There were no cooking measurements given. It was the case of “a touch of this and a touch of that”. So I've done my best to recreate the minestrone. It’s a delicious and nourishing dish with plump pearl barley, fresh herbs and succulent blue eye cod. Ramsay encouraged the use of celery leaves – something I do regularly in soups, salads and stir-fries. The often over-looked leaves add a fresh and subtle sweetness to whatever dish they're added to.

A note on seasoning with salt – say a recipe calls for 1 teaspoon of salt – I try not to add the whole teaspoon all at once. Instead, I sprinkle ¼ of a teaspoon or so here and there throughout the cooking process. This method of staggered seasoning allows for layers of flavour to develop and gives the dish more depth.

Finally, let me introduce you to Malcolm the magpie.

Malcolm lives nearby with his posse of feathered friends and is becoming increasingly more confident and curious as the days go by. I had just ladled the minestrone into the bowls and decided that they needed some more cheese. I went inside the house to fetch it and then came around the corner to find Malcolm with his beak in the bowl! I shouted and shooed him away. He eyed me grudgingly and took several steps backward and proceeded to watch me take photos. He even made several rather lyrical comments. Compliments to the chef I hope.

Asparagus Soup with Creme Fraiche

I had forgotten how cold Sydney can get in winter. After living in Canada for so long, the thought of a Sydney winter didn't scare me a bit. I laughed defiantly at a city that has never seen a snowflake fall. Bring it on!

How wrong I was. It's cold. I'm wearing two pairs of socks while I type this...and a beanie.

Sydney, it seems, is in denial of the reality of its winters. In Vancouver, it could be 3 degrees outside yet I would be merrily cavorting around the house in a pair of shorts because it was always an agreeable 20 degrees. Here, I am forced into an immature, roller-coaster relationship with my heater who burns my ankles until I can't take it anymore and turn him off. But then...the house seems so cold without him and I find myself soon inviting him back under the table.

Whenever it's cold, I turn to soups. This asparagus and creme fraiche soup however is one that can be eaten in winter or summer. In colder weather I usually have it quite thick which means it's not strained and contains all the nutritious vegetable pulp. In summer, for something lighter, I strain the soup which results in a smooth, velvety broth.