Italian Salumi with New Zealand style

Two Italians, equally passionate about their homeland as they are of their adopted country of New Zealand have created a range of unique salumi based on age-old Italian traditions but with a distinct NZ flavour.

Owners Luca and Paolo both hail from the same region of Lombardia, south of Milano and use the knowledge and traditions handed down through generation in both their families to prepare their Otello’s range of fresh sausages and cured meats, using prime organic NZ products – even the salt and pepper used is organic

A few nights ago I was privileged to be Luca and Paolo’s guest at a special Giro d’Italia (Tour of Italy) dinner at Toto’s Restaurant. Chef Sergio prepared a series of dishes using Otello’s products and matched with Italian wines.

After a glass of Prosecco – the very best precursor to any Italian meal, we enjoyed an beautifully presented antipasti of their cured meats including bresaola, coppa, pancetta and a wild boar salami, served with marinated vegetables, a young pecorino and a scattering of young broad beans. Each of the meats was unique in it's texture and flavour - I particularly liked the pancetta - it was sweet and almost melted on my tongue.

 photo by Geoff Dale

Guanciale is Italian style bacon made using the pig’s cheek cured with salt and pepper and hung to dry for several months. Thick sliced, diced and fried until crisp and utterly delicious, it was used to garnish a fragrant dish of goat’s cheese ravioli with truffle and a red wine sauce. With this we drank a 2009 Vensevo Falanghina DOC Campania – a grape that only grows north of Naples.

photo by Geoff Dale

Confit duck – the leg stuffed with fresh wild boar sausage and served on soft polenta with morello cherries came next. The recipe for this dish follows. The matched wine here was a wonderful Barbera D’Asti from Fiulot in Piemonte

photo by Geoff Dale

Dessert was also described on the menu as an antipasti and was in fact a lovely collection of lovely Italian specialties such as Sicilian cannoli and cassata with a little glass of a luscious Marsala Superiore from Pellegrino.

You can find Otello’s sausages and salumi at farmers’ markets around Auckland and at selected gourmet stores or you can order on-line.  Watch out for new products, including Prosciutto, which will be available soon

Confit Duck Leg filled with Otello's Wild Boar Sausage

4 duck legs with the thigh deboned

4 Otello's fresh wild boar sausages

duck fat, enough to half cover the duck legs

sea salt and freshly ground pepper

300 grams cherries, fresh or tinned

2 cloves

500 mls chicken stock

1 litre water

750 mls good red wine

Preheat the oven to 150°C.

Remove any excess fat from the duck and open out the boned thigh, skin down. Remove the sausage meat from the casing and divide it between the duck legs.

Fold the duck tightly around the stuffing to enclose it.

Wrap each leg in tin foil lined with baking paper and secure tightly.

Place enough duck fat in a deep oven try and warm it until it is liquid before placing the duck legs into the fat. Cover the dish and cook for 2 hours or until the meat is very tender. Remove the legs from the duck fat, unwrap and place in an ovenproof frying pan.

Increase the oven to 180°C. Season the duck and roast until the skin is golden and crisp.

While the duck is slow cooking, combine the stock and water in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Simmer for about 1 hour then add the wine. Continue simmering for another hour then add the cherries and cloves. Reduce further until the sauce is the right consistency.

Serve the duck on top of soft polenta (made according to the instructions on the packet) with the red wine, cherry sauce and a final drizzle of good extra virgin olive oil.

And as Luca and Paolo would say - Buon Appetito!

Another Spring Favorite

A big thrill at my local farmers' market this weekend – new season's garlic - which I just love! Following on from asparagus, broad beans and globe artichokes this is another of my most favorite spring things.

Just dug, the rosy hued outer covering of each head is still velvety soft and when peeled back reveals a cluster of pearly white garlic cloves – mild and sweet in flavour and juicy and crunchy like a carrot.

I’ve been a fan ever since I first ate new garlic at Chez Panisse in San Francisco many years ago, so I bought plenty – some to hang up to dry and the rest to use now.

Last night I cooked the first of my whole heads with some young Swiss chard leaves from my garden to have with slow roasted pork. I removed the outer skin, separated the cloves and gently peeled off the soft white skin from each. This is very much easier than peeling a dried clove.

I then ‘poached’ them whole in a little water to which I added a good splash of olive oil, a bay leaf and some salt until just softened then added the chopped stems from the  chard. Once they were tender I added the leaves, roughly chopped, and wilted them down. By this time the water had evaporated and the olive oil provided a lovely gloss and flavour to the leaves. A grind of pepper and a little extra salt and it was done – and quite delicious I must say.

You can also roast the bulbs whole – just like you would regular garlic – slice off the top to reveal the cloves and drizzle them with a little olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and add a couple of fresh thyme sprigs.  Place in a covered dish or wrap in aluminium foil and roast at 200°C until soft when you give it a gentle squeeze.

Once cool it is delicious spread on toasted sourdough with a sprinkle of salt and a drizzle of good olive oil. It is wonderful used like this under toppings for bruschetta   or you can use it to make roasted garlic aioli.

The flavour is very subtle in comparison to regular garlic that has been allowed to dry and become pungent.

It’s delicious with lamb ( just serve it as a condiment) and I also like to add the whole new cloves to a dish of spring vegetables (artichokes, broad beans, tiny carrots and turnips etc) that I poach in a little chicken stock with a bay leaf, some thyme sprigs and olive oil.

Ode to Asparagus

For me there is no better way to eat asparagus than with my fingers, dripping with butter and lemon juice and seasoned generously with sea salt and freshly ground pepper! And with the growing season for this most unusual of vegetables being a short one – mid/late September to just after Christmas -we make the most of it while we can.

For the last few weeks I’ve had to be at my local farmers market extra early to be sure not to miss out on the first of the season’s crop. The vendor there has new beds so the spears are thin and spindly. These are what I enjoy the most although I know others prefer the fattest spears they can find. Each week though the supply has gradually increased and I can now have an extra half hour in bed.

Other than butter and lemon, asparagus goes with many other wonderful flavours which include but are not limited to:

anchovies ▪ avocado ▪ bacon, prosciutto and pancetta ▪ eggs ▪ fennel ▪ garlic ▪ hollandaise sauce ▪ mushrooms ▪ mustard ▪ olive oil ▪ olives ▪ Parmesan, gruyere and goats cheeses ▪ potatoes ▪ smoked salmon, scallops ▪ tarragon, parsley, rosemary ▪ toast ▪ tomatoes ▪ walnuts, pinenuts.

Use asparagus as soon as possible after it is picked or purchased. The best way to store it until you need it is to stand it upright in a container with a little water in the bottom and cover the whole with a plastic bag. If the spears get wet they will spoil rapidly. 

When you are ready to cook it, snap off the woody ends (each spear will break at the right point between the tough end and tender part) or, if you prefer them all the same length, trim with a knife and even peel the end with a vegetable peeler. Personally I leave this to the restaurants.

Finally wash the spears well in cold water to remove any grit or sand.

Blanch asparagus using one of two methods:

1/ Stand upright in an asparagus basket so only the thick ends are in salted, simmering water. Cover and steam.

2/ Bring a shallow, wide pan of salted water, about an inch deep, to the boil and lay the asparagus spears flat in a single layer. Simmer gently until the asparagus is just tender.

Whichever method you choose drain and serve the asparagus immediately or if you wish to use it cold, refresh it in iced water to halt the cooking process. Once cool, remove from the water and lay on kitchen towels. If you leave it in the water too long the asparagus may start to break down.

This salad is an easy way to ‘dress’ asparagus up. Prepared this way it is delicious with barbecued lamb and baby new potatoes just like we had for dinner last night

Grilled Asparagus Salad

500 grams asparagus

olive oil

sea salt and freshly ground pepper

Dressing

50 ml extra virgin olive oil

1-2 tablespoons chardonnay vinegar

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

lemon juice

1 tablespoon capers, drained and rinsed

1 egg, hard boiled and chopped

1 red onion, sliced

150 grams firm feta cheese, crumbled

a small handful Italian parsley, chopped

Blanch the asparagus quickly in boiling water to set the colour, remove and refresh under cold water. Transfer to paper kitchen towels to drain.

Preheat a barbecue or ridged grill.

Toss the asparagus gently with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Grill on the barbecue until nicely coloured and tender. Remove to a platter.

Toss the sliced onion with a little olive oil and salt and grill until golden and tender. Make a vinaigrette from the olive oil, vinegar and mustard and salt. Add a squeeze of lemon juice if more acid is required. Season with pepper and add the other ingredients. Combine gently and spoon on top of the asparagus.  Serve at room temperature.

Time to bake - Christmas is coming!

It’s the end of October and the other day my thoughts suddenly turned to Christmas. I was wandering through my local cookware store and spied the gorgeous wooden cake boxes that I used to sell hundreds of at The Epicurean Workshop all those years ago.

Time to bake the Christmas cake!

It’s been a few years since I baked a Christmas cake, as I’m the only one in the family that enjoys it, but this year I’ll bake a big one, cut it into four squares, keep one for myself and give the other three away as gifts.

My favorite recipe calls for lots of glace fruits so it’s not the cheapest cake to make. For several years in the earlier days of the Epicurean I used to make mini versions of this cake to sell - using large tuna tins that were about 12cm in diameter. We decorated the tops with more glace fruits, glued on with apricot jam. They looked sensational.

Sadly the recipe for this cake is not to be found anywhere so instead I will bake the family recipe. This is a great cake too but more traditional in its ingredients and result. You’ll find the recipe at the end.  My mother always decorated the cake very simply with whole blanched almonds, pushed into the cake batter just as it went in the oven so that they toasted to a golden hue as the cake baked. And that is exactly what I shall do.

One curious aspect to the recipe is the caramelised sugar and butter that is called for. I can only assume this has the effect of darkening the cake slightly. These days Parisienne essence (gravy browning) is often called for.

Getting back to the wooden cake boxes though; these are quite unique in that the wood (kahikatea) insulates the cake mixture as it bakes which means you don’t have to go to all the trouble of lining it with brown paper as you do with a tin. Anthea Dunning, who produces the range, took a family tradition and now has a successful business selling them in four sizes. Each comes with her own family recipe and her website  has a great explanation on how to use them and produce a perfect cake. Over the years, with each consecutive use, the boxes darken and age and become quite beautiful.

I should add that these boxes are square for obvious reasons and to me a Christmas cake should always be square. I wonder what others think about this – round or square? 

The metal bake ware of today no longer has the quality of yesteryear. You need to look hard to find something that looks like it will last. I am lucky enough still have my mother’s heavy Christmas cake tin which is also dark and with a lovely worn patina. But if you are looking to buy one avoid all the lightweight tins out there and seek out one with some weight. Don’t bother about non-stick coatings – you’ll be lining it anyway.

One great brand from the UK that I have found is Silverwood – sold in New Zealand by F.L.Bone – the AGA oven people. The range is extensive but what I like is that it still offers traditional things like pie plates and square Christmas cake tins as well as all the clever new inventions. I love the oblong tart tin with the option of a fluted insert so you can have either a straight sided tart case or a fluted one.

At F.L.Bone they also have a range of Bake-O-Glide Teflon liners for the bases and sides of square and round cake tins - already cut to size. So clever!

So to make my mother Robin’s ( which was originally her mother Ines’) Christmas cake you will need:

450 grams butter, softened

450 grams brown sugar

10 eggs

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons sugar

1 cup brandy or whisky

450 grams raisins

450 grams sultanas

900 grams other mixed dried fruits and nuts such as dates, currants, cherries, glace peel and almonds

675 grams plain flour

½ teaspoon baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

whole blanched almonds to decorate

24cm square x 12cm (approximately) deep cake tin

 

Preheat the oven to 150°C, no fan. Line the base and sides of the cake tin with several layers of brown paper with a top layer of baking paper. Weigh or measure all the ingredients. Combine the fruits well and sift the dry ingredients.

Cream the butter and brown sugar in a large mixing bowl or stand mixer until pale and smooth. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.

Melt the 2 tablespoons of butter with the sugar in a small pot and cook until the sugar has caramelised to a nut brown. Remove from the heat and add the brandy. Simmer until the sugar has completely dissolved. Add this immediately to the butter and egg mixture, pouring it in, in a steady stream, while beating fast. (Don’t worry if it looks like it is curdling)

At this point you will need to transfer the mixture to a larger bowl, especially if you are using a stand mixer.

Add the fruit and flour alternately to the mixture, mixing gently with each addition. Pour the batter into the prepared tin and tap the tin gently on the bench once or twice to disburse any air pockets. Decorate the top with the blanched almonds, pushing each one slightly into the cake. Bake for 5 hours.  If the cake starts to brown too much cover it with a piece of foil.

Remove from the oven and pour over a little more brandy or whisky while still warm. Cool, remove from the tin and store airtight until Christmas, or earlier if you can't wait.

Culinary Highs

Some months I hardly dine out at all and then all of a sudden there is a flurry of invitations or new places to try. Here are a few recent highlights .

Firstly I was one of about eighty very lucky people to enjoy a superb three course dinner of Canterbury produce, including freshly smoked Akaroa Salmon and bush honey and Mt Cass Waipara Spring Lamb. The event, a fund-raiser by The New Zealand School of Food and Wine was largely cooked by owner Celia Hay with the help of Masterchef winner Nadia Lim and some generous volunteers. The dishes were paired with Waipara wines including the luscious Greystone Pinot Noir.

Celia’s school has relocated to Auckland in the aftermath of the Christchurch earthquakes.  This event raised funds to bus children from schools in the east of the city (the most damaged area) out to Duvauchelle on Banks Peninsular for a day’s cooking and some fun where Celia’s other business, a café and store there, is still standing and operating as usual.

I find it heartwarming, that in spite of the fact Celia has lost her home and her business, has had to move herself and her family to a new city and completely re-establish both, she finds the time and the energy to do something to help others affected by the same disaster. If you’d like to help too contact Celia.

A few nights later I found myself at the unique and rather sumptuous Mollies hotel for a special dinner to celebrate the hotel’s recent change of ownership. Chef Lance Tripp’s classical background and his ability to innovate was evident in the exceptional degustation menu he prepared for a raft of celebrities from the fashion, food and media worlds, all matched with carefully selected wines. Five finely honed dishes included his confit duck tortellini on butternut pumpkin with a poached quail egg and a visually beautiful dish of Raukumara venison with beetroot, crumbed ricotta, macadamia and white chocolate. Auckland isn’t exactly awash with elegant dining spaces such as Mollies. I love the effect achieved by massed white orchids and candles. Luckily Mollies dining room is open to the public. 

In August it was off down to the capital for a long weekend of wining and dining during Wellington on a Plate. I am always looking for an excuse to get to Wellington. I find the dining culture there very ‘outside the box’ compared to Auckland.

First up were some excellent demonstrations at the inaugural Fisher & Paykel Masterclass. A host of Wellington’s best shared their knowledge and skills in all things ranging from smoking yoghurt (Des Harris) to roasting snapper heads (Martin Bosley) and making old fashioned blancmange (Alexa Johnston).

We enjoyed a gorgeous high tea at Hippopotamus in the Museum Hotel with a showing of Alexandra Owen’s summer collection, a terrific children’s market held as part of the Hill Street farmer’s market and to top it all off a Malaysian Night Market held in a lantern strung Opera Lane by the Malaysian Kitchen Programme and which featured some of the city’s best Malaysian restaurants and their fragrant dishes.

Dining highlights came from two exceptional kitchens. Mark Limacher’s Ortega Fish Shack literally hummed with the who’s who of the current film scene. They obviously know where to find some of the best plates and service in town. Primarily fish focussed, as the restaurant’s name suggests, the menu is punchy and inviting, the flavours big and rewarding.

The newest hot spot is Ancestral – a stylish Shanghai-esque establishment on Courtney Place serving modern but at the same time seriously authentically based dishes from Sichuan and Guangzhou (Canton). I love the Eastern inspired cocktails, the extensive list of whiskeys and the yakitori garden bar out back. Although we experienced it at lunch this is very much a night time place, when, I am told, the bar becomes very lively.

Back in Auckland we have been witnessing the birth of a whole raft of new eateries over the last month. Wynyard Wharf has sprung up across from the Viaduct bringing new life to that part of downtown. And now, under the Sky Tower, we have our own mini version of Southbank in Melbourne with three new drinking and dining options in Federal Street.

One of them, Al Brown’s Depot Eatery and Oyster Bar, brings a touch of New York (finally!, I want to say) to the big little city. It’s slick and the food is so simple and the locals love it already. On offer is an oyster bar and sharing plates such as turbot sliders, a great version of the fish taco, kingfish belly and a to-die-for crisp pork hock - all washed down with wine on tap. What a breath of fresh air! 

And to finish, a brickbat and a bouquet. After all what would my column be without an issue or two? Briefly though;

The bouquet goes to RNZSPCA Blue Tick for their inaugural Good Egg Awards – championing those who produce, use or sell cage-free eggs.

The brickbat is for Fonterra - for canceling the contracts for organic milk in Northland.

I will say no more.

Unwrapped - pondering a world without plastic wrap

Have you ever wondered what you would do without plastic wrap? I can easily see how we could survive without plastic shopping bags, or without the copious quantities of plastic packing in use today, but how would we successfully cover food so that it is safe from contaminants, would stay fresh and not spill if we didn’t have plastic wrap?

The question arose the other day when I and my neighbours were ticked off by a council inspector who took it upon himself to nosey through our recycle bins and discovered the someone was disposing of both plastic bags and plastic wrap in theirs. My first thought was, “Who would think that plastic wrap can be recycled?”

But beyond that it got me thinking, and actually not for the first time, about these two scourges of the modern world and about plastic packaging in general.

We are all aware of the environmental disaster caused by the plastic shopping bag. The mind boggles at the stats regarding usage and wastage, with the one I ‘like’ most being that the energy used to make one plastic bag would drive a car for a kilometer or something along those lines. I, as do a growing numbers of other shoppers, dutifully go off to both the farmers’ market and the supermarket with my French market baskets and feel awfully guilty if ever I forget them. The lovely young man on my favorite vegetable stall at the market however, still insists on offering me a plastic bag, which sadly is not a biodegradable one. I have been shopping at his stall for several years yet he persists. And the organic meat is, rather sadly I feel, tray packed and plastic wrapped – not the vendor’s choice I might add, but if she wants to sell meat at the market this is the requirement.

I’ve recently travelled in India, Malaysia and Thailand and was fascinated to learn that some towns in India are plastic bag free. This act alone has not necessarily reduced the mountains of other refuse that pile up everywhere but it is a positive start and shows a growing awareness. Goods are wrapped in recycled paper or a hand-made cloth drawstring bag, which apart from being reusable undoubtedly provides employment for someone.

Malaysia also has plastic carry-bag free policies, although they love to prepare takeaway food in small plastic bags – one for the broth for instance and one for the meat, vegetables or noodles to go in it. It is fun to watch as they skillfully fill them and tie them at the top with a small loop to carry them by. However I dislike the idea of hot food being stored in plastic and I can’t help but wonder what it is doing, long term, to their health.

Thailand, on the other hand, seems to have embraced non-biodegradable disposable with gusto to the point that even a cup of iced coffee or a soft drink comes in a plastic bag with a straw. Even worse is that pre-prepared market food is packaged in polystyrene clams where once they might have been artfully wrapped in a banana leaf. This does rather spoil the visual beauty of their wonderful night markets.

But getting back to plastic wrap, there simply is not the same level of concern over it. There has been the odd health report over the years proclaiming its dangers when heated, which I for one have taken serious note of, even though I have always been highly suspicious of the stuff anyway. It therefore alarms me to see professional chefs tightly wrapping food in plastic then poaching it in liquid that may often be at boiling point. As far as I can determine it’s all about the shape. A chicken breast or a fish mousse becomes a round perfectly formed log that apparently looks so much more beautiful when plated.

More importantly, I worry about the public perception of this new concept and have seen evidence of its unwise use. There is a popular method buzzing around homes where you line a small cup with plastic wrap, break in an egg and twist and knot the plastic to form a small parcel which is then lowered into boiling water. A perfectly shaped poached egg results, but what has happened to all the chemicals in the plastic when heated? There are few ways for home cooks to safely regulate the water temperature and ensure it is kept low enough to keep the plastic safe (if indeed that is possible). What’s wrong or difficult about a pan of salted simmering water with a teaspoon of vinegar in it to help set the egg white? Use a fresh egg and you’ll have a beautiful poached one in no time. The same issue exists with its use to cover food in the microwave. How often have you had the plastic melt onto the plate, or even on the food itself?

Then, the other day, on a TV show, I watched a cooking contestant wrap a perfect, freshly caught piece of fish in plastic and poach it in water, then serve it plain on the plate. Why would you do that? What’s wrong with a fry pan and a bit of butter that will give the fish both colour and good flavour?

Chef techniques such as this one are all very well, but belong (just) in the professional kitchen not the home. At home I reluctantly use plastic wrap, restricting it to its intended purpose of covering cold food to keep it fresh in the fridge. I prefer however to use reusable containers with clip on lids that last for years. Personally I don’t want to eat food that has come into contact with plastic during cooking.

I attended the Auckland launch of a really inspired initiative recently. Aptly called Conscious Consumers, the programme has been successfully happening in Wellington for a year and is now spreading its wings. Designed for cafés, it allows them to earn ‘brownie’ style badges for nine different aspects of sustainability and environmental awareness, such as recycling, organics, composting etc. These are prominently displayed so customers know exactly what practices the café supports. I wonder if they could introduce one relating to non-use of plastic wrap.

In the days before plastic wrap or plastic anything much, my mother used to have a supply of little elasticated cloth covers to stretch over dishes of food. She’d wash and reuse them over and over. They eventually came made of quite sturdy plastic and disappeared completely with the advent of plastic wrap. I remember how she struggled with the concept of using it only once before throwing it away, experimenting with washing it and hanging it to dry. Needless to say that was not very successful.

Without a doubt we need to find a better way though I don’t suggest for a minute we return to dinky little cloth bonnets. But where are the stats around plastic wrap usage and wastage and when, I wonder, will a bio-degradable version be available?

This column first appeared in Dish Magazine - Issue 37

A Lesson in Sharing

The other day I came across a report that distressed me. It was about quinoa, the only ‘grain’ in the world that is a near perfect source of protein and one that has sustained the Andeans since the time of the Incas. Now it seems that due to the popularity of quinoa in the Western world and the consequent price hike attached to the ensuing demand, the very people who depend on it can no longer afford it.

This is not the first time these peoples have had their food source threatened. Surely, in this day and age, we’d know better. It occurred first when Columbus, in the throes of conquering the New World, declared quinoa and another staple grain, amaranth, to be sacrilegious and forbade them from being grown. (Highly prized by the Incas they were used for non-Christian worship). Instead, they were forced to grow wheat.

So the same situation has reared its head again, albeit for different reasons. It is feared that gluten-free quinoa (which is really a seed, rather than a cereal grain) will be replaced by white bread or rice and that problems of obesity and other issues associated with consumption of wheat-based foods will ensue.

Already we conquer nations for oil, strip the forests of others in order to produce palm oil, turn the world’s natural ecology upside down to grow enough corn to make bio-fuel or ‘new’ plastics, kill off the bees through the use of insecticides and over-fish the seas, threatening the livelihoods of many. Now we can add creating a new food ‘trend’ that causes detriment to others to the list.

We need to learn to share, in much the same way as a child must learn. There’s no reason why we in the West shouldn’t be able to enjoy the great taste and benefits of quinoa occasionally, or for those who need a gluten-free option, but it needs to be done in a fair and equitable way. I do wonder though if that is even possible in our current world.

It seems that what the West wants the West gets; if it’s not proffered willingly then it is simply taken. For a world as sophisticated as the one we live in today you would think we’d find a more intelligent way.

I love the history of food and in particular the Americas. After all, it is this vast region that gave the rest of the world some of our best foods: potatoes (3000 varieties), plus tomatoes, corn, chillies and capsicum, sweet potatoes, squash, beans, avocados, pecans, peanuts, watercress, pineapples, papayas, tapioca, maple syrup, wild rice, berries, salmon, lobster, turkey, chocolate and vanilla.

For more than 4000 years, on the terraced mountains and in the valleys of the Andes, the Incas cultivated a vast number of different foods. Experimenting to achieve optimum yields, they sought diversity in colour, shape and texture in all that they grew especially their three staples of potatoes, corn, and grains. The steps of the ancient Peruvian city, Machu Picchu, hold evidence of a sophisticated agricultural programme which once sustained large populations.

Further north, the Native American Indians knew how to grow three vegetables that, eaten together, formed a near perfect food. They grew maize (corn) in carefully tended fields, on evenly spaced mounds. Up each corn plant grew a bean and underneath grew a squash. These 'three sisters' as they are called, were inseparable, both for cultivation and nutrition. Grown together the corn provided a stake for the bean and below, the squash kept the ground moist and the weeds at bay.

Corn took the place of wheat, something the Indians did not have. It was used in a great variety of ways, from thickening soups and stews to making tortillas or tamales steamed in corn husks. Dried and ground corn became grits, or when parched and boiled it was called hominy.

On the subject of things disappearing, don’t miss Taggart Siegel’s new docu-movie Queen of the Sun. As something we have long taken for granted, or conversely been afraid of, the rapid depletion of the world’s bee population is threatening the entire global food supply. If it sounds far-fetched watch the movie and then get a beehive. Visit queenofthesun.com to find out where to see it.

On a brighter note I’d like to share with you the three new ‘food rules’ chosen by Michael Pollen from over 4000 contributions which will appear in his new book Food Rules: An Eater’s Manual, due out later this year. I just love the positive spin attached to these:

Place a bouquet on the table and everything will taste twice as good. – Gisbert P. Auwaerter, Cutchogue, NY

Love your spices. They add richness and depth to food without salt. – Claire Cheney, Jamaica Plain, MA

When you eat real food, you don’t need rules. – Mandy Gerth

This column first appeared in Dish Issue 36 - on sale now

Waiting For Service

There’s a certain well known restaurant in my city that some friends refuse to visit now because the last time they were there no one said thank you or good bye as they left. Even though they had enjoyed their dining experience, this left them with a really bad taste in their collective mouths. They had good reason to feel slighted. After all they were paying guests and deserved to be acknowledged for their visit. Without guests there would be no restaurant.

I asked if they made this known to management later. Sadly they didn’t, which quite possibly means that this missing link in the otherwise good service is probably still missing.

I have recently been in Paris – the home of some of the best food and according to some people, the worst service, in the world.

Here in New Zealand we desire service that is friendly and makes us feel like we are the most important people in the room. We don’t want to be made to feel grateful that we are in that restaurant, nor do we wish to feel superior to the wait staff. In this country of equality on all levels, no one is a ‘servant’. But neither do we want too much familiarity. We like being called by our name if we are a regular patron, but we don’t like wait staff that crouch down at the table to take our order or call us ‘dear’ or ‘darling’.

Parisian maitre’ds though, have an uncanny ability to make you feel like you should bow down to them. There is a natural air of superiority that says “I am not sure how you managed it but you are very lucky to have been allowed through the doors of this establishment and now that you are here you will behave, eat quickly and leave so we can give your table to someone else far more deserving”.

For this reason, as well as often ridiculous prices, I avoid this type of place and dine in smaller family run places who value their guests no matter who they are. Here you are greeted with a friendly “bonjour Madame” and when you are shown to your table, it is politely pulled out for you to squeeze into (tables in Parisian bistros are extraordinarily close together).

The service is usually brisk and polite – these are busy places and table turnover is high so there is little time for small talk. But questions about dishes are answered knowledgably and the food generally arrives quickly and with a flourish.

This is the service I like – no one is trying to be too clever about it. Often it is the chef him or herself who brings your food out and says “bon appetite” as the plate goes down. These are all signs that service is second nature; it’s in their blood and does not have to be learned.

Back in New Zealand this is not the case. Many wait staff have never themselves experienced good service, so have little to compare with. Service here is rarely arrogant, more likely it is amateurish. There is a fine line between good and bad service and of course everyone has differing expectations. However a few things are essential. Here are few points I feel strongly about.

• Wait staff, especially young people new to the industry, need to know what it is like to be on the receiving end, so they need to eat out as often as possible in a wide variety of establishments. Hospitality programmes do a great job of basic training but employers would do well to provide staff with the ability to try other places on their days off.
• Smile – not hard to do, but surprisingly lacking. Nothing says welcome as well as a smile.
• Recognize, acknowledge and rectify mistakes quickly and professionally. The customer may not always be right but it’s a good rule to go by – most of the time.
• Acknowledge regular customers once in a while with a small gift of a glass of bubbles or a free coffee. This is a sure-fire way to keep them coming back. You don’t need to have a loyalty programme or coffee card – a gift that comes out of the blue is far more powerful.
• I have said this before - grooming is paramount.
• Before service, staff should have the opportunity to try the day’s specials so they are familiar with them and can sell them well. I am assuming here that staff have had a chance to try all the dishes on the regular menu. There is nothing more unprofessional and frustrating for the customer than a waiter who has to run back to the kitchen to establish what is in a dish.

Now I am aware that my comments may bring a flurry of defensive replies from restaurateurs and so I will acknowledge now that I am very aware that not all customers are perfect either – there are rules of etiquette on both sides. But that is a whole other column.

On another and rather more serious note I would like to acknowledge the many Christchurch cafés and restaurants destroyed by last month’s devastating earthquake. Many, I suspect will never re-open. The best thing you can do is support those that do manage to get back on their feet. This will have been no mean feat for them and they will need all the help they can get to survive. I sense that after such a catastrophic event, the last thing anyone wants to do for a long time is eat out. But dining out will not just ensure the restaurants’ long-term survival, but assist the economic recovery of the city itself.

This column can be found in the current issue of Dish Magazine

Auckland 's Culinary Melting Pot

I've always known Auckland is a cultural melting pot and today this was further confirmed in the best possible way - through food. Dozens of cultures gathered to celebrate the city's diversity at The Auckland Cultural Festival which turned out to be far more exciting than its name. Side by side stalls from Eritrea, Congo, Ethiopia, Serbia, Finland, Malaysia to name just a few, had prepared their traditional dishes for us to try. Many were community and cultural groups who had joined forces for the day, others were restaurants and cafe's but all were proud to be showing others such an important and vital part of the culture they had left behind.

left to right: Malaysian dosa, Ethiopian coffee and Indian jelebi.



One of the loveliest things was that many of the stalls were raising funds for Christchurch. These people, themselves victims of war, famine or other adversities were giving in this truely wonderful way.
I would have liked to have tried each and every dish on offer. Impossible as this was I tried my best and enjoyed freshly made jelebi, that crisp, sticky saffron soaked confection that I fell in love with on a recent trip to India, handmade borek (including the pastry) filled with cheese (Serbia), little donuts flavoured with anise and stuffed with a single raisin (Bulgaria), a crisp and light dosa filled with potato curry and served with  a fresh coconut chutney (Malaysia). Next came a tiny cup of exceptionally good Ethiopian coffee served by the most beautiful, smiling woman. Then there were the satay, Spanish paella, French crepes, Chinese dumplings, Hungarian fried bread, Italian pizza and Eritrean flat breads piled up in colouful baskets to be piled with chicken curry, rice and beans.

Eritrean stall

I enjoyed trying foods that I hadn't had before and asking how they were made. Next time I will go extra early before the crowds which will make this easier. The experience certainly made me feel part of the real Auckland - it was a pleasure to witness and be part of this gathering of peoples from all around the globe who somehow have found their way to our small country and made lives for themselves that still centre on their own traditions.

Plum Good

Its been a sensational season for stone fruit - some of the best peaches and nectarines I can remember for a long time. At my local farmer's market last weekend there were at least six varieties of plums for sale including Black Doris, my favorite for our family sauce recipe, and several heirloom varieties. We bought some Haweras to make jam and several kilos of Black Doris for our annual sauce making. Hawera, named for the New Zealand town in which it was discovered, is a blood plum too, juicy and very sweet - perfect for jam.

I am not a great jam maker or eater, but spurred on by my daughter's desire to make it, out came the jam pan and long handled wooden spoons. The sugar thermometer was nowhere to be found so we had to employ the old technique of cold saucer and the finger test to see if it had reached setting stage.
Our recipe was dead simple - just 2 kilos of plums, halved, stoned and then quartered plus 1.2 kilos of white sugar.Next time I would use just one kilo for these sweet plums.
Mix the fruit and sugar together in a large bowl and leave on the bench, covered, overnight. Next day, the juices will have run and much of the sugar will have dissolved.

Stir over a low heat until the sugar is completely dissolved then increase the heat until boiling . Boil hard - stirring occasionally .  As the mixture nears setting point the bubbles will become denser, a good sign. Put a small plate in the freezer for a few minutes then drop a little jam onto it. As it cools draw your finger across the top. If it wrinkles it is ready for bottling.  Ladle into steralised jars , cool and then cover.

The Plum Sauce recipe has been in my family for a long time. My mother made it every year and I have carried on the tradition. We wouldn't be without a jar, open in the fridge to have with good sausages or lamb. It is delicious in a cold lamb sandwich.

4 kilos Black Doris plums

1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

25 grams whole cloves

1 large onion, chopped

2 kilos brown sugar

2 tablespoons cayenne pepper (this may seem a lot but the sauce mellows with time - reduce the amount if desired) 

1 litre malt vinegar

1 tablespoon salt

Combine all the ingredients in a large, heavy based pot. Bring to the boil and simmer for 3 hours. Strain the sauce through a sieve and discard the solids. Pour into sterilized jars or bottles and seal while hot.

Store in a cool dark place. The sauce will thicken with time.

Makes approximately 4 litres of sauce.

To sterilise bottles and jars: Put jars or bottles and their lids through a hot cycle of the dishwasher. Alternatively, wash in hot soapy water and rinse well. Place them on an oven tray in a cold oven. Turn the heat to 120°C and leave for ½ hour.

It is very simple.

Those Forgotten Skills

Welcome to my first blog. Its certainly taken me a while.

For my inaugural post I have chosen to publish a copy of my column that appears in Dish issue #34 that is just out. 

There’s a tui keeping me company in the tree that shades me and the cicada orchestra is in full swing. The last task of the year has turned into the first of the New Year but what better place to tackle it than on the terrace of my holiday cottage looking out to sea on the first and most glorious day of 2011.

I’ve been toying with several subjects that have had me thinking lately, seafood sustainability for instance, and also considered looking back at the culinary highlights of the year just ended but decided instead to reflect on times well before that.

As usual a tall pile of books; fiction, non fiction and cookery, have accompanied me to the beach. I even have a few extras loaded on my recently acquired ipad – including Remembrance of Things Paris – Sixty Years of Writing From Gourmet Magazine Editors, which although published in 2004, I have only just discovered.

But the one that has captured me the most so far is one that has bought many memories to the fore and further confirmed how much to do with what we eat we now take for granted, how many basic skills are indeed forgotten and how little appreciation most have for good food.

Darina Allen’s latest book, Forgotten Skills of Cooking (Kyle Cathie), also made me feel rather old. As she talks about all the culinary skills we no longer have I realized that I could remember my grandmother and mother carrying out many of the things she talks about. They were experts at utilizing what was available, creating another meal entirely from leftovers, knowing when foods were past their best etc. Nowadays everyone relies on use-by or best before dates, resulting in mountains of perfectly edible food being discarded. We are afraid of food. Back then they didn’t waste so much as a crust of bread.

Neither could they run down to the supermarket for any and every ingredient. But they could go out to the garden and pick fresh vegetables for dinner and make jam with or preserve the abundant fruits of summer. They knew how to sour cream if they needed it, how to turn the rest of the Sunday roast into shepherd’s pie or store potatoes and apples so they lasted through the winter without going green. They also, and this is what I most envy, knew where most if not all of the food they used came from.

My memories extend to observing all these things, but also to the small and pleasurable jobs such as saving the top milk or cream from the top of each milk bottle to have on the porridge next morning, podding peas or cracking walnuts that came from the big tree at the bottom of the garden (this was a mid winter job done in front of the fire). Even remembering to take the butter out of the fridge to allow it to soften in time for breakfast is a lost ‘skill’ – no longer required, thanks, or not, depending how you look at it, to the advent of margarine and then spreadable butter.

I also happily remember mushrooming across friends’ farms and the feast that followed, and blackberry picking under the hot Canterbury sun, when more fat juicy berries found their way into my mouth than into my basket. I realize now of course that what we were doing was foraging – something that has now been reborn as a fashionable trend, though I admit a positive one.

Darina’s book is a valuable record of myriad skills. For anyone born before 1970 it’s a walk down memory lane, for those born after that it’s probably an eye opener. For instance the chapter on poultry deals first with the why’s and how’s of keeping hens, how to dispatch one for the pot and what to do with it from that point on until it gets to the table. There is a great chapter on making sausages and curing pork too but if vegetables and herbs are more of interest then the first chapter on foraging and chapter nine on vegetables, herbs and salads will have you riveted.

Interestingly puddings also take up a chapter. As Darina asks “I can’t quite understand why so many people nowadays think that having dessert is bad for you.” I have such fond memories of my mother’s puddings; gooseberry fool and apple sponge pudding are two that come to mind. Both were made with stewed fruit, the first folded through whipped cream, the latter sitting under a layer of ‘sponge’ that was baked to come out of the oven steaming. All it needed was a generous splosh of cream. It’s hard to imagine that the making of puddings is a forgotten skill but I suspect it almost is. I can’t help thinking that I have failed my children on the pudding front completely. Perhaps that was why they were always so excited when I did produce one when we had guests or on a special occasion. Oh well there are always the grandchildren when and if they come along.

I haven’t made any resolutions this New Year but perhaps a good one for all of us would be to hone a few of these forgotten skills – after all you never know when one might come in handy.