You learn something new everyday in the world of cooking, food and eating.
I blame a lot of people for this exhaustive search for some holy grail of food. And why are we so impelled to search? Our parents (or for some, their grandparents) ate the same sort of food over and over for most of the year, just stopping to eat different foods on special occasions like Xmas, birthdays and other celebrations. Foreign food of any description just did not enter the kitchen, and if it did as I found to my horror when the Blessed Iris launched into pasta with a Tomato Sauce, then it was way way way better that it never did.
The blessed Iris was a good cook, also a cook who varied little in the dishes she prepared, but did strive I think to get better results, stay one step ahead of the neighbours. We ate chicken just once a year. I knew what everyone in the town would be eating, there was no mystery. But today, with the challenges that confront us in our daily lives, its hard to even begin to wonder what people cook (or often don’t cook) every day. My mother was challenged by her lady friends pastry on the steak and kidney pudding, or the density of the cake or the cutting quality of the puddings (the least crumbing for bread, cake and pudding was very desirable). Mum took pride in producing a well grilled lamb chop, a creamy mash and not to be unkind, managed to cook every bit of flavour from the vegetables she boiled and boiled and boiled and then, sure she was doing the right thing, drained the now exceptionally tasty water, into the sink. Except when she was making gravy and the tasty water was used to enhance her already rich meat juice filled gravy.
We are in so many ways overwhelmed with choices, empowered by the somewhat excessive availability of ingredient and voracious in our search for the latest taste treat as espoused by this or that celebrity chef and foodie. We swim along in the top five centimetres of a deep ocean of food and cooking and know little or nothing of even the foods that filled our ancestral tummies.
I would love to say I am different, less obsessed, more focussed, leading a simple Spartan existence, but of course that’s just not true, indeed I have taken my obsessive nature to levels that should not be countenanced by right thinking folk and have never yet apologised for doing so, nor is it likely that I ever will. My ego is however, well under control.
To see what different mono cultures do with food, take a look at the Italian, Greek, Middle Eastern food stores and watch as the shoppers carefully select within a tight group of tastes and foods that have been part of the lives of every day eating for generations and have not changed, even regions dictate a certain taste and style which is known and recognised by every cook and that rarely changes. These cooks become very good at the food they fed their families as I suspect did our mothers and grandmothers, we on the other hand are not good, but fall under the sway of influences such as the Ottolenghis who seem to be mid stream in teaching us how to become covert vegetarians. I am not complaining about that.
We do need to find a balance, somehow to keep that which is important and part of the heritage of our short time on this continent. One notes with some dismay that the original people of Australia used a wide selection of various foods and condiments, very few of which have found their way into the kitchens of the wider public, except of course should a celebrity chef happen to be instructed to use one by some spin doctor or other (does that make me sound cynical, I hope not…) I would challenge a great many of you to name a dish that is truly representative of Australian food now and in the past, we cannot even claim Pavlova since the Kiwi’s seem to have been given bragging rights on that food. For me its a roast lamb dinner if that is some guide.
This topic is very interesting and indeed diverse, if one explores what other countries, The USA and Canada for example in order to try and establish some sort of ‘difference’.
It can also be seen that in the USA the foods that are consumed have moved away from the British and European routes to form a food that is now known as American. It has even developed some distinct regional foods such as the BBQ of Texas and the beef (Pastrami) of New York delicatessens. There is a cuisine style that is known as Californian. The Mid West of the USA can claim to be the home and hearth of many foods and is certainly the epicentre of preserving.
Canada has developed in a slightly different way, it has been influenced by native foods as well as by French cooking and as such a unique cuisine has grown up that is much loved by Canadians and contains some foods that I would have great difficulty eating…
But seems to be adored by those who have been raised on it. It is also interesting that bread in Canada has developed a distinctly Canadian style with a much more dense and compact loaf. The Canadians (I suspect native people) have given the world Maple Syrup and Cranberries, so we have much to thank them for. The point is that they have, like their cousins in the USA, developed a distinct style.
New Zealand is also an interesting cuisine to follow. It seems to have also grown a cuisine style that is based on the Maori and the white settlers in some sort of occasionally harmonious blend. To my taste, the people of New Zealand are spoiled for quality of ingredient and seem attached to the older ways of cooking with stunning results. I am often jealous of their foods.
All of this is leading me to persuade you that the cooking and foods of Australia are lacking in some direction that would lead us to a cuisine that could be called ‘Australian’. Is it the bush BBQ, is it the roast lamb, its for sure not the shrimp on the barbie that we tried to persuade the world of recently. We have lost the art of home baking, people who actually make cakes at home now are given celebrity status… we seldom do home preserves, and a grilled lamb chop is now a thing of great difficulty since they are often so tough that getting ones teeth through the meat is difficult. We are confused by the variety, take potato for example, even the supermarket will offer you a choice of many different types and, unless you know what you are doing, you will leave with a dazed expression and probably the wrong spud.
I am inclined to blame the food mafia for this situation. We seem to have allowed food celebrities to persuade us with an ever wider and more daunting array of dishes that not even the most talented home cook can hope to know and understand, let alone cook. We have allowed the food media to also pull us in this or that direction and, the food media is now so under the influence of economic rationalisation that it is difficult to believe what they print or televise. It is also of some concern that those who run the major food festivals, shows and exhibitions are also seriously biased, seriously money focussed and strongly under the influence of the bottom line of profit. In other words, in order to get to some core of truth, you need to strip away the outer layers to uncover the realities.
We need to maintain a vigilance and to ensure that food is placed front and centre of our world, that what we cook, eat and enjoy is of the very best we can obtain and we must continue to pursue excellence and to remember that what is past had merit and we need to take the best of the past and combine with the best of now to create a food and cuisine that is truly both Australian and excellent.
Having said all that, let me share with you a new taste that I only cooked this week and it is well worth the effort, it is both simple and delicious and can be done in a very short time. Called in South India, Tomato Rice, it is literally a combination of tomato, spices and rice. It uses cooked or even left over rice and so is also economic. I served it with a side serve of Zucchini fried with a little garlic, ginger and curry paste and accompanied with a good dollop of Sweet Mango Chutney.
South Indian Tomato Rice
Ingredients:
2 cups cooked Basmati rice (you can also use leftover rice)
4 large ripe tomatoes cut into cubes (I did not remove the skins)
2 tbsps vegetable/ canola/ sunflower cooking oil
1 tsp mustard seeds
1 large onion chopped fine
2 green chilies slit lengthwise
2 cm piece of ginger grated
2 tsps coriander powder
1 tsp cumin powder
1 tbsp garam masala
Curry Leaves if you have them, just a twig or two or say 15 leaves
Salt to taste
Preparation:
Heat the oil in a deep pan and add the mustard seeds and green chilies and curry leaves. When they stop spluttering add the onion and fry till soft. Add the tomato and ginger and mix well. Cook till the tomatoes turn pulpy. Add the coriander, cumin and garam masala powders, salt to taste and mix well. Cook on a low flame for 3-4 minutes, stirring frequently. Turn off the heat and add the rice. Mix well.
Simple and delicious and maybe a part of the New Australian food experience?
USA food and cooking are as diverse as the country, much of it is based on European and as diverse as that continent is. Italy, Greece, Spain and up to the Northern cooler climates. Interestingly there is not much of the influence of France or Scandinavia in the foods. Preserving was a very important part of the lifestyle of the USA, specially in the mid west where the preserving of foods as done in Europe found a home.
Cooking meats over an open flame was done in Texas, Kansas, South Carolina and Virginia and over the years have grown and evolved the meats and techniques.
Barbeque is a vibrant part of the food of the USA, it has evolved and now began to permeate the food scenes of many other countries. Smoking, long slow cooking, mopping meat with secret spice rubs, slathering the cooked meat with sauces for extra flavour. The world is embracing things like pulled meats and ‘sliders’.
The spicing and rubbing of the meat and poultry with dry rubs is something little understood in Australia, but now becoming popular. It has even extended to fish and seafood. The basis is often sugar with salt, pepper, powdered garlic and onion with powder dried bell pepper, paprika and spices like cumin, corriander and chilli. Rubs can be applied for as long as 12 hours and as short a time as a few minutes. It is not common for food treated with rubs to be exposed to naked flame, spice burns quickly and becomes bitter, it is best used where direct flame is not employed.
One area where the Americans have evolved as world leaders is in cooking large poultry. Turkey is something that is often eaten in the USA, it is almost always roasted and many ways have evolved to produce the perfect crisp skinned bird. I use the lemon, salt and very high heat method, it works well, but there again I am not a great lover of turkey.
Mayonaise in the USA has become elevated in ways I would have not thought possible, it seems to be bear little resemblance to what we knew, but now is found in Australia as whole egg mayonaise. It is used in all kinds of cooking
American Mustards are very good, very easy to eat, not overly hot and contrary to what you are led to believe by Heinz and Masterfoods who together have succeeded in turning a delicious not sweet mustard, into a mess of sugar, not at all sweet, but well balanced. The truth of the American mustards is all about great taste, not sweet even though honey is used in the Deli mustard, but all about a fusion of great European condiments from the cold North to the hot South.
They deserve an airing in Australia.
AMERICAN YELLOW MUSTARD
A mustard that owes it beginnings to France, but has been much loved and continually used in the foods of America, specially the Southern States. In the US it is simply called Yellow Mustard, in New York state, it is transformed a little with the addition of sugar and or honey and malt vinegar replaces white. It remains the best loved condiment in the USA.
Over the years it has suffered at the hands of major food manufacturers where it has been deconstructed and reconstructed to suit major manufacturing. It takes it’s place next to praise mayonnaise on supermarket shelves. Above that where food matters, it remain a condiment much loved, easy to use and tasty.
In Southern States USA salads and meat dishes, it is an essential.
Southern Potato Salad recipe and very very good.
1.5 kilo of red potato, unpeeled and washed
6 hard boiled eggs chopped
1 small red onion chopped fine
4 dill cucumbers chopped fine and a little juice.
1 cup of whole egg mayonnaise
½ cup yellow mustard
½ teaspoon salt
splash of EVO
Cook the potatoes and as allow to cool, crush a bit, don’t mash them, just break them down. Add to a bowl with the rest of the ingredients (not the evo) Mix well and add a splash of EVO to top. It is very delicious even the next day.
NEW YORK DELI MUSTARD
This mustard owes its origins to the invasion of Northern Europeans and Jews to America as they brought with them their traditions. Mustard was always much loved and this mild and delicious condiment is loved today. It is the go to mustard in the heaped Pastrami and corned beef sandwiches you see in NY Deli illustrations.
Our version omits the often found dill, but you can easily add it. Try this delicious condiment on a pulled pork, pulled beef, corned beef, ham or pastrami sandwich and be generous. It is of course the go to mustard for German style sausages and frankfurters or savaloys.
One of the most ancient crushed/ground seeds, dating back to 1100 bc in China where it was consumed in the Royal courts. In time mustard made its way via trade routes to Europe, once there it was used in medicinal ways and soon also in food, mostly as a condiment, the further it went into Northern Europe, the more varied and actually sweeter it became.
Today there are three main types of seed and these are also divided in to occasional sub catagories. Example is Brown mustard seed if originating in China, is very much hotter and biting than the same seed from Canada. There are over 40 varieties of mustard seed, essentially only 3 are widely used, catagorised as White (the most common in western mustard condiments) Brown, in Asia it is hotter and way more bitter, in European mustards, milder, used in seeded mustard types. Black mustard seed is not common, but has a sweet milder flavour, it is not commonly ground apart from North Africa where it is used as a ground powder to make a condiment.
Yellow mustard powder will provide a quite hot paste when mixed with just cold water and used within fifteen minutes. It very quickly looses the biting heat on exposure to air, the flavour is retained. Most of the commercial HOT mustards on the world market are mixed with chilli or similar which assists in retaining the heat.
American Yellow mustard is made from yellow mustard powder with the additioin of Turmeric. It is mixed with a mild vinegar (usually cider vinegar) and water with a little garlic and paprika. Much loved in the USA and found on, in, huge number of dishes. It has not found a big audience in other Western or European countries, but it is worthy of some inspection.
In the Jewish Delicatessens of New York and right through the USA, a sandwich made from cold corned beef or more likely Pastrami (an old European method of cooking beef) was layered up with many thin slices of meat and liberallly slathered with a mild sweetened mustard, similar to American Yellow mustard but a bit more spicy. It is delicious used in a NY and Southern American potato salad. See
I often use it in an egg mayonaise.
Germany, Austria, Switzerland and smaller Eurpoean countries have an abiding love affair with sausages and have perfected them in a wide variety of meats and flavours. They are eaten at all times of the day and are usually accompanied by mustard. The mustard is made either with whole seeds or powdered or a combination of both and is sweetened, it also contains a few other spices such as paprika, allspice and cinnamon. There are dozens of variations throughout the regions.
Scandinavian countries with their love of fish in all manner of fresh and preserved ways (think Gravadlax) have evolved some delicious condiments to accompany their seafood. Most are mustard based, usually with mayonaise and very many with fresh dill. All are delicious.
Horseradish is much loved for its tangy, hot deliciousness, in Edwardian days in gentlmans clubs it was an essential on the table, mostly grated and mixed with cream. Evolution in all things including taste have seen a decline in its use, but the slide has been halted with the marriage of horseradish and mustard. The resulting offspring has given a delicious condiment for all types of meat dishes.
Italians have not much embraced mustard of the European style, but have evolved a condiment using the preserved fruits of Italy called Mustardo de Cremona, it is delicious but hard to find. Greece hardly used mustard, but a recipe of mustard, lemon juice and yoghurt used on chicken is delicious. The Middle east has very few uses forthe condiment, except for Israel where European traditions have carried on and mustard is used often.In the Imperial courts of pre revolution Russia and surrounding countries, a mustard did evolve using a sweet vinegar and this I find delicious on ham and also beef.
Ribs are a delicious cut of Beef, they are always full flavoured and a great winter food. This method for cooking them uses a sauce that is produced in house and originated in the dim dark history of my family. It is a sauce that every member of the family delights in and invariably backs up for seconds.
No product produced by Peter Watson brand uses fillers or extenders, no chemicals at all. The products are clean and green and may be relied upon for a great healthy result.
Traditionally ribs are regarded as time consuming if you choose to go down the cook/steam/poach then grill/fry/bbq methods. In the skilled hands of a chef with a lot of time, they are delicious cooked in any of the above ways. For those of us who are time challenged, this method will produce a great result and, should you be of a mind to have a glazed grilled rib, they can be placed in a super hot oven for a short time after being removed from the braising liquid, under the grill or on the bbq.
1.5 KILO OF BEEF SHORT RIBS.. DO NOT REMOVE EXCESS FAT.
1 JAR OF WATSON FAMILY BEEF BRAISE SAUCE
750 MIL OF WATER
OIL FOR DEEP FRYING
FLOUR FOR DUSTING RIBS.
METHOD
Dust the ribs with plain flour and put to one side. Heat a frying pan, put some olive oil and fry off the ribs till lightly brown, put aside.
In a casserole put the contents of one jar Watson Beef Braise sauce, (500 mil) add a further 500 mil of water and bring to a boil, turn down to a simmer and add the beef ribs keeping them under the liquid as much as possible.
Turn the gas or electricity down until there is just a very gentle blop blop of the braising liquid and allow it to cook for 2 1/2 hours or until the ribs are butter tender.
Remove the ribs and keep warm.
Remove as much fat from the surface of the liquid as possible and reduce the liquid until you have a thick glaze. Return the ribs to the pot and allow to gently cook in the glaze until they are glistening and rich.
Serve with mashed potato, noodle or pasta.
For the time challenged, cook these the night before, allow them to remain in the liquid and refrigerate, next day, lift off the fat and proceed to reduce the liquid and return the ribs to the glaze you create.
CAPE GRIM Ribs are a delicious cut of Beef, they are always full flavoured and a great winter food. This method for cooking them uses a sauce that is produced in house and originated in the dim dark history of my family. It is a sauce that every member of the family delights in and invariably backs up for seconds.
No product produced by Peter Watson brand uses and fillers or extenders, no chemicals at all. The products are clean and green and may be relied upon for a great healthy result.
Traditionally ribs are regarded as time consuming if you choose to go down the cook/steam/poach then grill/fry/bbq methods. In the skilled hands of a chef with a lot of time, they are delicious cooked in any of the above ways. For those of us who are time challenged, this method will produce a great result and, should you be of a mind to have a glazed grilled rib, they can be placed in a super hot oven for a short time after being removed from the braising liquid, under the grill or on the bbq.
1.5 KILO OF CAPE GRIM BEEF SHORT RIBS.. DO NOT REMOVE EXCESS FAT.
1 JAR OF WATSON FAMILY BEEF BRAISE SAUCE
750 MIL OF WATER
OIL FOR DEEP FRYING
FLOUR FOR DUSTING RIBS.
METHOD
Dust the ribs with plain flour and put to one side. Heat a frying pan, put some olive oil and fry off the ribs till lightly brown, put aside.
In a casserole put the contents of one jar Watson Beef Braise sauce, (500 mil) add a further 500 mil of water and bring to a boil, turn down to a simmer and add the beef ribs keeping them under the liquid as much as possible.
Or if preferred, follow the recipe below for the basic sauce.
Turn the gas or electricity down until there is just a very gentle blop blop of the braising liquid and allow it to cook for 2 1/2 hours or until the ribs are butter tender.
Remove the ribs and keep warm.
Remove as much fat from the surface of the liquid as possible and reduce the liquid until you have a thick glaze. Return the ribs to the pot and allow to gently cook in the glaze until they are glistening and rich.
Serve with mashed potato, noodle or pasta.
For the time challenged, cook these the night before, allow them to remain in the liquid and refrigerate, next day, lift off the fat and proceed to reduce the liquid and return the ribs to the glaze you create.
In the event that you want to start from scratch
3 large onions sliced medium fine
2 cloves of garlic chopped
2 – 3 tablespoons of good EVO
500 mil beef stock
1/4 cup tomato sauce
1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
Fry the onions in the EVO until they are very well caramelised, add the garlic and continue frying, add the stock and sauces and cook until all well amalgamated. Add herbs of choice, I prefer a good chopped thyme. Do NOT add salt, but pepper can be added.
When the above is cooked, proceed as per the instructions above. You will need to add a further 500 mil of water as the ribs should be covered.
12 ounces chicken breast meat cooked, cubed or shredded. (about 2 1/2 cups)
1/2 cup red or green grapes halved
1/2 cup coarsely chopped raw almonds
Heat oil in a saute pan over medium heat until shimmering. Add diced shallots and saute briefly, 1-2 minutes. Add curry powder and mustard, and stir another minute. Remove from heat.
Dice any large pieces of chutney. Add chutney, apricot jam, lemon juice, salt and pepper to shallots and curry mixture.
In a food processor or blender pulse or blend chutney/curry mixture with the mayonnaise until a smooth paste. Check seasoning, adding additional salt, black pepper, lemon juice or curry powder to taste if needed.
In a bowl, fold in chicken, curried mayonnaise, grapes and almonds. Remember that the addition of the chicken, grapes and almonds will dilute the flavor, so re-season accordingly.
Serve as a filling in a sandwich or on a bed of lettuce for a lower carb or gluten free option.)
In the winter you make chicken patties. And here with some hessitation I bow to the Yanks who are exceptionally good at thia kind of cooking.
CHICKEN PATTIES.
About 3 cups of left over chicken, broken into smaller than bite size, no bones, no skin.
The binding mix…
2 eggs broken into bow large enough to take the binding mix and chicken
¼ cup of whole egg mayonaise
¾ cup of plain flour
½ cup chopped parsley
Grated lemon rind from ½ lemon
Salt and Pepper
Breadcrumbs.
Prepare the chicken, make the mixture but don’t add breadcrumbs. Mix well, you may need a little extra flour. I used some crumpet moulds and simply put some breadcrumbs on the base, topped with a filling of the chicken and sprinkled a bit of breadcrumb on top.
Fry gently in oil butter combo in the moulds. Remove the moulds when you are sure the patties have set, flip them and cook on the other side till they are crisp and golden. Think Steel Magnolias with Dolly Parton describing how shw cooks Southern Fruit Salad cake. https://www.saltysidedish.com/cuppa-cake/
There are times when an old fashioned recipe emerges and its time to cook it again. This is a French Lyonnais bistro recipe, much loved and often cooked. Like all great French foods, it relies on good quality ingredient and a little attention to detail. For those who have already freaked out at the idea of cooking in vinegar, don’t! Over the cooking time the vinegar mellows and sweetens, it’s delicious.
Ingredients.
8 large chicken thighs skin on, ( I used Maryland’s… cut it back to 6) Washed, dried well.
½ cup good quality Red Wine Vinegar
½ cup good quality chicken stock (I used Knorr Swiss)
½ cup of a dry white wine
1heaped tablespoon tomato paste or 1 large tomato peeled and diced
75 grams of butter (unsalted for preference, but not essential)
Salt and Pepper (don’t go mad with the salt, the stock will have some salt in it)
4 Garlic cloves thinly sliced
1 medium red onion, halved and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons of Crème Fraiche or thick cream or yoghurt
1 tablespoon chopped Tarragon (you can use herb of choice, Oregano is good, I would not use mint)
Use a large pan that can be covered, suggest that something heavy is better. For this kind of thing I love the enamelled cast iron pans.
Salt and pepper the chicken, melt the butter in the pan and in batches of two or three, cook the chicken, skin side down until it has turned a golden brown, turn and cook the other side for a minute or two, remove and cook the remaining chicken. (the chicken is not meant to be fully cooked, that happens in the sauce later).
When all chicken is cooked and removed, add the garlic and onion and start to cook, let the onion take on a little colour, add the wine and scrape the pan well, reduce to about ¼ cup, add the tomato or tomato paste, the vinegar and stock, cook until a sauce is made, return the chicken to the pan, skin side up, lid the pan and cook gently for about 20 minutes until the chicken is done.
Choices… remove the chicken from the pan and cook the sauce, reducing by 1/3 rd, swirl in the crème fraiche and blend well. Return the chicken to the sauce and allow to warm through. You can also simply leave the chicken and swirl in the cream. Scatter with your herb of choice.
I served this with a good simple buttered noodle and some green beans.
In some recipes, a tablespoon of honey is included, I am not fond of honey or sugar in savoury dishes, but a splidge might be good to help with the acid balance.
My father was obsessed with lawn bowls. Dad had been a great swimmer and a member of the life-savers in Port Fairy when he was younger and I loved to watch him as he swam in his languid style, effortlessly cruising through the waves and seemingly never getting tired. As he aged and since Port Fairy had no swimming pool, the sea became less attractive and for a few years Dad gardened.. he grew everything. Then along with his good friends he had grown up with all his life, he discovered lawn bowls.
The bowling club in Port Fairy was on the corner of Bank Street and Gipps Street, opposite the river. It had tall shiny leaf hedges all around it above the green corrugated iron fence, mostly to protect the bowlers from the cold winds that could spring up at any time and send the ladies hats spiralling into the air and everyone running about looking for their cream cardigans. On the Bank Street side of the greens, was the entrance, it was sort of an arch that had been carved out of the shiny leaf and had its own door way, the street was a metre or so below the level of the greens and walkways, so you had to climb a few steps and woe betide you if you did not shut the gate, you would be stridently reminded by the ladies either those who were busy preparing the afternoon tea or those on the greens and even those sitting with their knitting watching proceedings. There were some things that just had to be.
In the end Mum I think realised that she had little choice but to join the club or her life was going to be socially dull. Mum was soon in training and in the end turned out to be not a bad bowler although I don’t think her heart was in it. All her lady friends were members, even the few single ladies of the Borough enjoyed the social life of the club. Mind you, I have to say that those who saw themselves as upper echelon of the social ladder, seemed not to be interested, I can’t recall ever seeing any of the local doctors, solicitors or old family at the club. Its also fair to say that most of the Catholic community did not participate… a strange thing but any town in this country was divided along the lines of religion and class.
Summer was the main bowling season, it was at that time of the year that lawn bowls was at its busiest and the tournaments and regional competitions were held. There was great competition to be selected a member of the team to compete in these events. Dad was a younger and somewhat inexperienced bowler at that stage so only made it rarely to the team. I suspect too that his bowl delivery was somewhat dubious, even though he had been approved by officials as being correct. Dad had taken his rather laconic style to the bowling green and delivered his bowls straight legged and bending, he was very good and in time became one of the regulars at the competition.
Port Fairy summers were for me, all about the beach, I roamed from beach to beach, The East Beach when the surf was up, I even joined the life-savers for a brief time, but I was never good at any of the demands of clubs, so boy scouts, life savers and even a short stint in the local band left me as a loner, but able to jump all over the place. The South Beach was stunning, still wild, yet with tamed areas that at various times had housed such oddities as the nuns bathing box… in the days when nuns lived hidden lives and played the modesty game to extremes, the nuns would, when the summer sun was hot and biting, head across some open land between their convent and the beach, there they would all pile into the bathing box which was then slid, on rails, down to the water where the nuns would cavort and play until it was time to return, they never once left the box and to my knowledge, no one had ever seen them actually swim. Further along the South beach was one of my favourite places, everyone called it Pea Soup, I have no idea why, it was a piece of beach that was sheltered like much of the south coast, by large rocky outcrops which prevented the pounding surf from reaching the beach. Pea Soup itself was shallow, still and safe for little kids, a bit of clamber over some rocks you could find the diving pool. This was a naturally occurring deep hole that had a diving board built, in the early days there was two boards, one higher than the other, as time and tide took over, only the lower board remained but that was enough. Just near the diving pool was a natural area of rock on which we would lounge, change and should there be any girls around, pose.
My bike was the means of me getting around and that had a history, Dad had bought it for me second hand and I loved it, bright red with a racing seat, no gears of course, but for me freedom. At that time I had a dog called Monty who was particularly devoted to me and would come with me where ever I went, trotting along behind the bike, swimming with me till he got too cold and then waiting by the water with a worried look on his face. Monty loved to chase rabbits and often when I was at the South Beach, Monty would head off into the sand dunes to see what he could scare up, after being sure that I was settled for a bit and unlikely to head home before his return. Even if that was to happen, Monty knew his way around town and could be relied on to be home in time for his dinner. It was this fun activity that eventually, to my utter horror, claimed his life. As he was romping through the marram grass, he was stabbed with a burr that lodged in the cheek of his face and eventually became a canker and then cancerous, I held him while the Vet injected him and his life slipped away with that same worried look on his face to be sure that I would be alright. I cried for days and could not even ride past the house of the vet. No dog has ever replaced Monty in my affections.
I usually ended up at the bowling club because that’s where Mum and Dad would be and if I made my timing right, there was bound to be a sandwich or even a sausage roll left over for a hungry kid who had been swimming all day. Everything and I mean EVERYTHING stopped when time for afternoon tea was called, just who called it I have no idea, but I suspect that it was the team of ladies who were charged with the vital task of preparing the repast. And, since many of the bowlers would have also been travellers to other clubs, it was also likely that some other club members would also be present, then it had to be good. And good it was.
The tea urn was the centre of the table and the cups were stacked, cup and saucer in piles all around, you were expected to help yourself to tea, milk and sugar were already on the individual tables, coffee if wanted had to be ordered at the hatch and it would be made in the tiny kitchen using Turban coffee essence and milk.
Alcohol was frowned upon at Afternoon Tea and the bar only opened after the games had nearly finished and only those in the finals on the greens. There were a few ways of dispensing the food, it was either put onto one long buffet table and constantly refreshed as the hungry bowlers munched their way through endless sandwiches, sausage rolls, baby egg and bacon tarts, scones, drop scones with home made strawberry jam and cream, cakes, big and small, sponge cakes which the ladies of the country seemed to excel with, my all time favourite was Ginger Fluff, or it was served to each and every table on separate plates. The supreme taste sensation was undoubtedly the sandwiches. It was these that provided the local ladies with the chance to excel.
Mock chicken, beef paste, sardine paste, sliced roast meats, eggs in so many ways, curried, mixed with chutney, stuffed back into their whites (one of my absolute favourite things, I had a great eye for a good stuffed egg and knew just who had done them. I have to confess here that even at that young age, I was a died in the wool foodie and was known to court some of the local ladies who I knew would always give me a cool drink and what ever was in the tins at the time!) I suspect that the shortages of the times of war were great teachers in terms of making do. While its certain that we did not have the elegant pates and terrines of French cooking, we did have the delicious meat pastes, the potted meats and the home preserved meats of the day. In todays world, we turn our noses up at the prospect of dealing with a calves tongue, but for my mother it was one of the delights of her kitchen and to this day, I remember with enormous fondness the thin slices of pink tongue served with brown bread and mustard One should perhaps point out that should you be lucky enough to enjoy a Bolito Misto in Italy, you would be given tongue to eat, with a mustard, the beautiful Mustard di Cremona, or even mustard preserved fruits.
In the cookbooks of the day, whole chapters were devoted to what was usually called ‘savouries’ and this included dozens of sandwich fillings utilising fish, vegetable and meats as well as the rarely seen poultry, however eggs were used in so many ways. I have often come across what I guess is the local Australian (via the UK) type recipe for ‘meatloaf’ or equivalent that was certainly a lesser creature than the wondrous terrines of France, but none the less, in their own way, were just as important as the terrine to locals in preserving the meats and offal. I have come across recipes for an anchovy spread that was rather unusual since the wide use of anchovies was not common. Anchovy paste was readily available and I suspect that this is what found its way into the spread. I think two sandwiches were regarded as essentials for the fine buffet table, one a ham (off the bone naturally) and the other, an asparagus roll, tinned asparagus of course.
Entertainment was a lot more common in the days prior to television and before people took on debt loads that would cripple Pharaoh. With us now time poor, we never seem to have the time to get into the kitchen and spend the time making food that is economical, delicious and individual. In my home, some form of visitor entertainment would happen at least twice a week and that did not include trips to the Bowling Club, pop in for cups of tea with lady friends, or even dropping in to family members who were still expected to be able to produce a small, but delicious, array of accompaniments to the pot of tea. My mother spent at least one day a week, baking and filling the cake tins and biscuit barrels. Cakes would always be two, a fruit cake of some kind, Mum’s Sultana Cake was my favourite and that would be baked every two weeks or so, it kept well and so long as she could keep me and Dad away from the tin, lasted. A butter cake of some kind would be made and that would last a few days as the cream would get sour or the cake become hard. For special occasions or even just because my Father loved them, Mum would make a Tea Cake that you ate with butter, and for Dad if she was being specially nice, a Caraway Seed Cake, which I hated.
Its fair to say that most of the women of the town found no contradiction in popping in to Caddies bakery to get some of Tommy Digby’s cake. Tommy made a very fine jam roll, something that not many would do at home, although it was only a sponge. His Rainbow Cake was much loved and I recall to this day that the chocolate icing on the top was raked at a strange angle. The layers of pink, brown and yellow cake were separated with a thick layer of mock cream. Delicious. Tom also made Napoleon Slice, a slice consisting of cake, cream, jam, puff pastry (or more properly rough Puff) and topped with a modestly pink icing… very very yummy and, I am told, still to be found in Tasmania and New Zealand.. a trip worth taking.
One of my all time favourite things was to be told to ride my bicycle up to Caddies and get some pies and pasties for lunch… such a treat. Made fresh every day and the pastry was flaky, buttery and simply melted in your mouth. I knew that the meat fillings were fresh since the meat came from my own families butcher shop. Oddly enough, Dad was not a fan of the pasties, I was! I recall when he and I were sent one day to collect Mum from Mount Gambier, we passed through a small town just out of Portland, Dad spotted a bakery and since it was lunch time, we stopped. Dad bought two pasties for himself and one for me and we sat in the car to eat. My father declared them the best pasty he had ever eaten and returned to the shop for two more. I think that I had been eating fresh crisp Delicious Apples as we had also stopped at our favourite apple growers orchard and got two boxes. Mums work would be cut out for her when we did get home, making the apples in many different things. One of my favourites was apple and cucumber relish.
Tommy also was the provider of puff and rough puff pastry for the town and it sat in great slabs on the counter to be cut up by the serving ladies into what ever you needed. No one bothered with the arduous task of making these two butter rich pastries. Mum varied her Sausage Rolls, sometimes making her own short crust pastry, sometimes getting some of Tommy’s Puff Pastry and even on occasions, making her own Rough Puff pastry, something that I loved. Mum had a few secrets with her Sausage Rolls, she used sausage meat of course, but she added not only onion and some ‘mixed herbs’, but she grated an apple and even a carrot and they went into the mix… she of course made her own Tomato Sauce, so these beauties where a thing of much delight and even on occasion, Mum would make a larger, fatter version which would be sliced and served with some mashed potato and green peas. Not half bad.
Asparagus Rolls
2 tins of asparagus spears, well drained… mum would use one tin green and one white although she said that the white asparagus was a little too thick for a real lady to get her mouth around.
1 loaf of ‘brown bread’, course wholemeal will not do, you could be better to get a high quality pre sliced loaf or have it sliced by the baker. You will need to trim the crusts from the bread. Mum on occasions would lay the bread out and lighty iron it with a warm iron, it was, according to Mum, more elegant if it was thinner.
Butter, mayonnaise ( a home made proper egg mayonnaise with a touch of Dijon) salt and pepper.
Lightly butter the bread and then smear with mayonnaise, add some salt and pepper. Take one spear of asparagus, starting from one corner, begin to wrap the asparagus spear in the bread, rolling it up. If the bread is thin enough (and it should be) the roll will stay glued up, if not, it is permissible, but not desirable to use a toothpick.
Pile these up on a plate like logs.
Stuffed Eggs
Most people just love these tasty treats that somehow only make an appearance on the buffet table or when guests are coming.
use hard boiled eggs and follow any of these..
*remove the egg yolks, mix with cream, salt and pepper, mustard & paprika with a dash of white wine vinegar, return to the egg white and pipe it in. dust with chopped parsley.
*add anchovy fillets to above
*add some chopped gherkin and pate to above
*add some chopped ham to the basic recipe above
*chop some olives and capers into the basic mix
*add some curry powder for curried eggs.
*chop some fresh herbs into the basic mix
If you are one of those people who have or can find, a piping bag, then pipe the egg mix into the whites for a great 50’s presentation. Remember that no home would have been without one in the fifties.
Sultana Cake
This is the much loved cake that is so easy to eat, its hard to know when to stop.
Pre heat the oven to 180°c/360°f (it will take 20 minutes to reach heat and have a shelf set just above centre, but not the highest)
250gr (8oz) butter softened
1 1/4 cups caster sugar
4 eggs
2 1/2 cups plain flour
1/2 tspn baking powder
2 tblspns milk
1/4 tspn lemon essence or a squeeze of lemon juice
1 1/2 cups sultanas
Cream the butter and sugar until it is light and creamy, there should not be any feeling of sugar in the cream, add the eggs, one at a time and beat in well after each addition
Sift the flour with the baking powder and begin to fold into the egg/butter/sugar mixture alternately with the milk and lemon juice, when this is well combined and not overworked, fold in 1 1/2 cups of sultanas.
Use a 20cm cake dish and butter and flour it well, put the mixture in and bake for 1 hour at 180°c/360°f, turn the temperature down and cook for a further 30 minutes (150°c/300°f) or until cooked.
Allow to rest in the pan for a few minutes, then turn onto a wire rack to cool completely.
TRY THESE GREAT SANDWICH POSSIBILITIES
* sardines and crisp bacon with mayonnaise on whole-wheat toast.
* tapenade, sliced tomatoes, and arugula on sourdough bread.
* fried flounder, bacon, sliced tomato, and red onion rings on a toasted, buttered hot crispy bun.
* thinly sliced prawns, cucumber and radishes with dill butter on pumpernickel bread.
* sliced ripe summer tomatoes, drizzle of extra virgin oilive oil, salt, pepper and basil on fresh white bread with crusts removed.
* cream cheese, currants, and chopped pecans on cinnamon toast.
* bananas, bacon, and peanut butter drizzled with honey on raisin toast.
* cream cheese, golden caviar, orange nasturtium petals, and snipped chives on very thin slices of black bread.
* tasty cheese and chilli chutney on toasted sourdough bread.
* scrambled egg, sliced ham, and sliced red onion on toasted rye bread.
* grilled Italian sausage and warm fennel or onion confit on a toasted roll.
* sliced roast lamb, eggplant caviar and yoghurt on pita garnished with chopped cucumber.
* sweet Gorgonzola cheese, sliced fresh purple figs, and fresh mint on grilled panettone.
* sliced roast lamb with fresh mint mayonnaise on toasted soda bread.
* roasted red and yellow peppers with sliced smoked ham on a thin baguette.
* sliced avocado, tomato, cucumber and alfalfa sprouts with mayonnaise on toasted multi-grain bread.
* hot tuna fish with chopped arugula, roasted red pepper, and sliced parmesan cheese.
* hot steak sandwich with roasted shallots and tarragon mayonnaise on a thin baguette.
* sliced sweet onion on buttered white bread rolled in mayonnaise and chopped parsley.
* roasted cheese sandwich with sharp cheddar cheese, sliced tomato and crisp bacon.
* thinly sliced roast pork with apple butter on walnut whole-wheat bread.
* corned beef and cole slaw and mustard on toasted sour dough bread.
* egg salad and asparagus tips with dill mayonnaise on croissant.
* sautéed garlic sausage, onion confit, and Dijon mustard on a thin baguette.
* sardines and egg salad on toasted rye bread a red pepper and ginger marmalade topped with a fried egg on roasted multi-grain bread.
*great freshly sliced ham off the bone with a home made mustard on chunky white rolls.
*focaccia loaded with slices of Italian sausages, roasted capsicum, tapenade and cos lettuce.
*smoked salmon, cream cheese and red onion on bagel, scatter a few capers on top.
*don’t forget thin white bread with cucumbers and a light spread of mayonnaise.
*creamed cheese and celery with fresh herbs on brown bread makes great sangos.
*rare roast beef on rye with seed mustard and sun dried capsicums.
Cold Boiled Ox Tongue
This is a very old dish, certainly on every great banqueting table, pressed tongue would have appeared. Although today we are likely to shudder a little at the prospect of even handling a tongue, the meat is delicious. Tongue can be obtained either fresh or pickled in brine, either way, this recipe will work for both.
1.8 to 2 kg (4lb) piece of pickled or plain ox tongue (pickled is best)
1 large onion cut into quarters
2 leeks split and washed
2 carrots cut into chinks (no need to peel, they are for flavour)
1 – 2 cloves of garlic peeled but not cut
6 parsley stalks (if you have them) if not a few leaves from some celery will do.
1 bay leaf
6 whole black peppercorns
2 tspns of powdered gelatine
2 tblspns of good port
You will need a good bowl that you can cover and weight for pressing the tongue, make it wide enough so that you can sit a board and a house brick on it.
Use a good firm scrubbing brush and give the tongue a good hard scrub then soak it in water to cover for a good half day.
Remove from the water and place in a deep saucepan along with the onion, leeks, carrots, garlic, parsley stalks, bay leaf and peppercorns, cover this with 3 litres of fresh water and bring to the boil. As it boils, skim away any scum that rises to the surface with a slotted spoon. Simmer for 3 – 4 hours.
The tongue is cooked when the skin on the surface begins to blister and the T shaped bone at the root of the tongue comes away easily. Take the tongue from the water and plunge it into cold water to cool. Pull all of the skin from the tongue and clean off all the gristly pieces under the tongue and at the root.
Fold the tongue into a circle and place in the bowl.
Boil the cooking liquid briskly to reduce by about 30%. Taste the liquid, sometimes this can be lacking in flavour in which case, add a stock cube or two, but be mindful of the salt.
Strain the liquid and reserve 280mil,(9floz) try and get the liquor when it has settled a bit to make sure that you are getting the clearest part of the stock. Add to the port wine. Dissolve the gelatine in a kitchen cup with a dash of water over a small saucepan, add this to the 280mil (9floz) and pour over the tongue.
Weigh it down as heavily as you can and leave it overnight, turn it our and it will be able to be carved easily. Serve with a selection of delicious pickles and chutneys as a garnish.
English Potted Meat
This is a very old fashioned way of eating meat. It originated in the days when meat could not be kept and this way it was able to be preserved for longer. No mater how it started, it is truly delicious and worthy of a picnic table or a great autumn or spring lunch. Eat this meat with a good hearty hot mustard or perhaps some of the wonderful Italian mustard fruits.
1.5kg (3lb) shin of beef on the bone, get the butcher to cut it into thickish slices, go for meat that has not got too much fat, some is necessary, but not excessive.
750gr (24oz) pickled salt pork belly, skin on.
6 black peppercorns
1/4 tspns ground cloves
1/2 tspn mace
1 bay leaf
2 tspns of anchovy essence (available from grocers or use 2 pounded anchovies)
salt and freshly ground black pepper
Put the beef and pork into a saucepan and cover with cold water, add the peppercorns, bay leaf and spices, bring to the boil and turn down to simmer. Simmer for 3 hours skimming off the scum that rises every now and then.
Remove the meat from the liquid and cool. When it is cool, take all the meat from the bones and skin of the pork, you can pull it apart with a fork or chop it, which ever you please, it should be on the small side.
Strain the stock and return the meat to the stock along with the anchovy essence or the two anchovies. Return the pot to the boil and cook on moderately high for 20 – 25 minutes. Taste for seasoning and if salt is needed, add now.
Take a nicely shaped bowl and pour the contents into the bowl, after you have rinsed it with cold water. Allow to set, this is best overnight in the refrigerator under a piece of kitchen plastic.
Turn it out onto a board, cut into thick slices and eat with great mustard fruit and a tomato salad.
My mother would have felt an overwhelming sense of shame if her cake tins, biscuit tins and a slice tin or two, were not filled with deliciousness. The cake tin was always filled with two types of cake, one would have been a fruit cake (sultana or mixed fruit) and the other a plain cake, that was Dad’s fave, a chocolate, orange or lemon. Complex cakes were not usually the province of the home cook, even things like Napoleon Slice or a rolled sponge were left to Tommy Digby.. he did them better. Mum made a ripper Lamington and they were my favourite.
Lamingtons
125g butter
3/4 cup castor sugar
2 eggs
1 3/4 cup SR Flour
2/3 cup milk
1 tspn vanilla
Method
Cream butter and sugar. Add vanilla, add eggs one at a time. Add flour alternatively with milk. Pour mix into a greased lamington slab tin, 11 inches by 7 inches and bake in a moderate oven for about 30 minutes. After it’s thoroughly cooled cut into four centimetre by 4cm pieces. Wrap cake in foil and put in the freezer.
Icing
3cups icing sugar
1 tspn butter
1 tspn vanilla
1 tbspn cocoa
Put icing ingredients in a double boiler, over boiling water. And mix until smooth, adding a dash of hot water.
Assemble
Then put a lamington on a fork and ladle icing over the top until covered, hold it while it drips then roll in fine coconut.
Dry on cake rack with greaseproof paper over the top of it, or underneath to catch the coconut.
When transporting Lamingtons put extra coconut at the bottom of the container to prevent sticking to the bottom.
The gig was…
Family – a slice of cake for morning or afternoon tea, no supper in our house, it just didn’t happen. Maybe it was because Dad started work so early, the house was often put to bed by 9 pm.
Visitors – a pot of tea, until Mum discovered Turban coffee essence and thought it unbelievably posh, after that coffee was offered, but only in the morning. A plate of cakes, home made biscuits, slice or what ever was the go for the week was produced. Scones were a huge favourite for afternoon tea, so too buttered ‘pikelets’.
Mum’s Plain Cake… so easy and so tasty
250g (8oz) butter
250g (8oz) sugar
4 eggs
1/2 cup (65gr or 2oz)plain flour
1 1/2 – 2 cups(200gr to 250gr or 6 1/2oz to 8oz) self raising flour
1/2 cup milk (approx)
pinch salt
vanilla essence or the grated rind and juice of one lemon (just add milk to make 125 mil)
Cream butter and sugar, add eggs one at a time beating well. Add pinch of salt and vanilla essence and mix. Alternately mix in flour and milk. Bake in a preheated oven at 180°c/360°f for 30 – 40 minutes or until when tested skewer comes out clean. Turn out of tin and allow to cool.
People ate cake. Today, we seem not to. I am mystified. There are a number of possible explanations… Can’t bake anymore! Time Challenged! Calories! Confusion!
We have forgotten how. Baking was always considered one of the house wives main duties, (It should be said that many men also took great pride in baking and entered competitions and shows) she took a lot of pride in keeping the tins filled and even entered shows and competitions with the results of her kitchen. The CWA (I love the heading on the CWA book on Cakes ‘ Traditional Tempting Tried and True’.) was the main support along with the PWMU and the dozens of local auxiliaries of various things who proudly produced local recipe books that were attributed to great local cooks. My mother collected recipes and swapped them, her hand written recipes books are filled with swapped recipes. Jennifer’s mother (Annie Belle) was an avid collector of recipes and hand written recipe books and I have them all.
But why? Why was life different then, so different that it is hard to even start to compare. Looking back I can see the changes starting. In the early days of marriage and family, we did keep a cake or two in the cake tin. We did not often make biscuits, a slice maybe but rarely. As the family grew and started to need things like school lunches, cakes became more important. Daughter Seryn was one of the family bakers and joined her mother and me. Jennifer was an exacting baker who liked to do things by hand, there is little doubt that cakes made this way are superior, the main problem was she was a reluctant baker. I was more inclined to toss it all in having read the recipe, I always wanted to innovate. Seryn fell somewhere in the middle, she liked to follow a recipe, yet innovate. Her innovations and particularly when she doubled a recipe on the odd occasion got messed up and the results, amusing. But I can say, my family was raised to enjoy cake. And still do.
Time is something that we have blamed too much for many of our shortcomings of the kitchen. Its time to stop and take a good hard look. Are we simply lazy? Are we overindulged, spoiled for choice, served by many to make our eating lives happy? Its true to say that in the past, women were not expected to work once they had started a family, but that certainly did not mean they worked less, it seem true that often women worked much harder and longer hours than they do today. And they had to cook much more than they do today. Grocery stores in the past were much different places. My mother would shop for.
*Flour: 3 types SR and Plain and Cornflour
*Sugar: Normal, Caster or Icing sugar
*Cleaning Aids: Floor wax, Velvet soap (used for all soap needs including washing the dishes)
*Toiletries were purchased from Olive Powell’s pharmacy, soap and toothpaste.
*Cheese and Butter. Mum had two cheeses only and butter was often not needed since Dad would get some milk from one of the farms and mum would make her own butter, the butter milk, the residue was great for baking.
*Eggs, always from our own chooks, I don’t think my family would have ever bought eggs.
*Sauces Chutneys and Pickles, along with Mayonnaise were always home made, never ever bought.
*Incidentals.. custard powder, vanilla essence, vinegar, jelly crystals, desiccated coconut, mustard powder, spices, tea. *Tinned foods were just a few, Condensed Milk, Rosella Tomato soup, Heinz Baked beans and my Mum’s fave, sardines. The occasional canned salmon.
*Sweet biscuits in great moderation and these would have come from large tins in the grocer’s shop.
*Meat from the butcher; chicken was unheard of as something you could purchase ready to cook. Fish was caught by Dad and when we lived down near the wharves, a few bits of flake or some of my favourite, couta bellies. *Fruit was grown and preserved or turned into jams in the summer, every house had a vegetable garden and grew a lot of their own needs, for the rest it would be Edgar Egan for vegetables and fruit we did not grow.
The number of products to be found these days in Grocery shops (now called Supermarkets) is astounding. It started with the addition of toiletries, then with amazing speed started to include delicatessen and butchering lines, the rest is a seemingly endless array of new product all designed to get us into the space and keep us there… insurance seems to to be the latest.
Calories are those unseen things that are in every bit of food that passes into us and have the ability to make us fat or thin. Water is calorie neutral. In the past they were also not something that was thought about, today with the advent of sales people selling weight loss, weight gain, long life and every other aspect of living, we are reminded over and over of there great relevance in our lives.
Calories intake in the 1950’s and 60’s are listed for Australian at about 2000 (+ or – a bit) and todays intake average for women is 2500 and for men 3000. Its also of some importance to note that obesity and even a great preponderance of overweight was not a major issue in the 50/60’s. The same cannot be said for today where the issues of body weight, world wide (except for the third world) are of major concern.
Since we are dealing with the why of not eating cake, it must be said that as a calorific food, cake has not had good press, it is regarded as a weighty item in the intake of foods, 60 grams of plain cake has a calorie content of about 197. Other cakes that have a higher fat content with cream, sugar coating have a much greater count. But by way of comparison a Big Mac hamburger has 560 calories and if you have it with a medium sized bag of chips, then a further 380 calories can be added. A really good roast dinner with all the trimmings, beef, potatoes and at least three vegetables and gravy, 600 calories, up to 800 should you be like my Grandfather and demand fat on your roast. You can have a great roast dinner, a slice of cake (think steamed jam pudding as a desert cake for 360 calories) for the same amount of calories consumed if you eat one Big Mac and a medium bag of chips – 940 calories.
Its dazzling how the youth of today would even begin to choose a Big Mac over a roast dinner. So perhaps it is that the cook in the house simply won’t cook a roast because it may interfere with some social occasion or god help us, a trip to some shopping centre to max out the credit card.
It’s not calories. Its simply not.
Confusion then? We are completely and utterly bewildered. We have lost the plot and have a lot of trouble finding our way through the food maze. Many possible explanations, I suspect that we are offered too much choice, we are goaded into believing that we must cook from a new country every time we enter the kitchen, that the super star chefs must also shoulder some blame I think is true, they have turned food from hearth and heart into entertainment.
I am as guilty as the next foodie, I run all over Melbourne and beyond to get my grubby fingers on foods that I consider either tastier, better or more interesting. I run all over the place to get a loaf of white bread that is crusty and moist inside, I chase meat growers to get the best cut, I am always in search of the cheese that will make my ears tingle like it did when I was a kid. I drive to any market in any place to get my hands on the best fruit and vegetable. And yet I wonder if this is the right way. Is it possible that the growth in home grown vegetables and fruit are heralding a turn of events and that the ways that I look back nostalgically on are returning?
Napoleon Cake
INGREDIENTS
5-3/4 lb. self-rising flour
1-3/4 lb. butter, room temperature
14 oz. white sugar
1 egg yolk
1 tbsp. water
Raspberry jam
Cake
1-1/3 lb. butter (room temperature)
1-1/3 lb. white sugar
2-1/4 lb. self-rising flour
2 tbsp. milk
1/2 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs
Strawberry frosting
Shredded coconut
INSTRUCTIONS
Cream butter and sugar. Blend egg yolk with water; mix with butter and sugar mixture. Blend in flour. Roll out very thin. Line a grease lamington tin with half of the pastry. Prick well and spread with a good layer of raspberry jam.
Cake:
Cream butter and sugar. Beat in eggs. Fold in flour, then milk and vanilla. Pour this mixture into the pasty case, making a slight hollow in the centre. Roll out the remaining half of the pastry; spread with raspberry jam. Place on top of cake with jam side face down.
Bake in moderate oven 180ºC/350ºF for 35-40 minutes, or until pastry is browned and sponge cake is done. Turn onto a wire rack to cool. When cold frost with strawberry flavoured pink frosting, then sprinkle with shredded coconut.
off to the country estate, lock stock and barrell.
It was a nightmare, or more particularly I was a nightmare. Sensibly I was soundly put in my corner and given a dummy to suck. Any authority I thought I may have had was abruptly removed. Its happened before, every move we have ever made was the same.
Mind you, this was BIG. Two houses, detritous from 2 restaurants and 2 food shops including antique counters purchased in Malaysia (who can throw away good kitchen equipment? Or Books?)
I spent much of my life collecting that which appealed to my warped sense of taste. Every place I ever visited, I sort out the rare, interesting and bizare (I once bought a turn of the 18th century condom mould and let me tell you those blokes had big willies… it fell apart) Along the way I gathered up some good stuff… good paintings, a few bits of good furniture. And of course, the best kitchen paraphenalia available… latest electrical dooh dahs, on and on, but you get the drift.
The city address was a rental. Long term and heading very quickly, with the aid of a slum landlady who refused to spend a cent on the maintenance of the property, into ugly decriptude. It was infested by tribes of warring possums, hords of other animals, black mould, collapsing floors, unworkable plumbing, electrical nightmares. A huge mess (I am relaibly informed she is planning another rental without touching the house.. one day she will kill someone).
So after I was safely tucked away where I could not interfere, the packing began. I was given the task of packing my recipe and food book collection, smallish boxes and me simply placing said books and papers in what I considered an orderly manner, but I was wrong. Many needed repacking and I was admonished for my tardy nature, she was right of course. Who paints a wall beautifully if you don’t want to paint the other walls? I was from that time on kept away from packing, released in time to attend to eating. Here to my shame, I admit to online ordering, way to often and often throwing away most of the food. Not even Asian online are, it seems, reliable purveyours, mind you, it forced me into making my own chicken dumplings and they were pretty dammed good. Next time on that score, I think it will be proper Tibetan/Nepali MoMo with a good bowl of Thugpha.
Then the family descended. Not all, wine maker son was in the middle of mystical vintage and was spending unseemly amounts of time communicating with the grapes. Also said son who was the beneificiary of my munificience and was being loaned a counter for use in his winery shop and had purchased from me, a huge iron and concrete table I designed a few years back for the spiffy little South Melbourne shop, was desperately trying to figure out a way to get them to Castlemaine. There was a bit of a problem, the garage, like the rest of the house, was suffering from lack of maintenance and had developed a severe lean to the left, the door would not open, hence said gorgeous antique counter was stuck.
I know there are many things outside food and design where I can be found wanting, but in cases like this, I am driven to the edge and tend to jump in. Thank you AirTasker… after spending some $800 the garage had been righted and propped, the counter removed to near the front gate and all was in readiness for wine sons choice of carrier (aided by his mother in the choice)… I considered choice unreliable and approached AirTasker muscle man with a good van for the job. In typical Sub Continent style, the task was delayed and delayed and I was chewing fingernails, I was making all aware that a deadline was appoaching and I was anxious not to offend slum landlady (save that for later). My chosen saviour arrived and thence declared that steel and concrete table was too heavy and task could not be done. I suspect that this was said to pay me back for harassing him, but the next I heard, all had arrived safely at its destination.
Sweet relief.
But that did leave the rest of the house, including my Aprillia scooter which was in need of some sorting. The boss of the move, with some prompting from me, had spoken a few times to the ultra efficient removalists and had been assured that the largest truck in their fleet would be dispatched and not to worry. I did, but I should not have.
I went to sleep in the infested chamber one last time, agitated and restless. Woke for toilet relief, glanced at the clock with to me said 5.57 am, so got up, got dressed, washed my face and went to the kitchen for a pot of tea, to be greeted by a bewildered voice, asking me why I was up at 1.57 am? No answer of course, but the option was to sleep in the chair or go back to bed. I chose the chair and slept for three hours. At 7.40 the truck arrived, not before I had managed a panicked phone call, and out stepped a very tall well built muscled Samoan and an even taller, but not so muscled, Afghan… in fact they turned out to be a couple of the best workers possible, with the exception of Seryn, oldest of our three daughters who had risen early and arrived at our departure point at 6.30 am.
I was told to move the car from the garage and remain in it, that the woman incharge would join me for our escape to the country in due course, when she had assured herself of all going according to the master plan. One and a half hours later, she arrived and then started saying teary goodbyes to the neighbours. A further thirty minutes later, we turned out of Tyndall street and headed to South Gippsland and our home in Binginwarri, leaving all in the hands of eldest daughter who, did an amazing job!
Anxiety was not yet over, I was sitting in my usual comfy chair in Binginwarri having a decent worry about the fading light and non arrival of removalist van. In my usual way, I had convinced incharge move wife that getting the assistance of a local would/could be beneficial, hence the help whom I call Tricky was sitting around twiddling. I tried a few times to call the office of the removalist, but got no answer. At 3pm the huge truck pulled into the driveway. We already knew that they had managed to get all on board in some sort of miracle stacking except a couple of very elderly chairs and a large pot of jade plant.
Let me digress for a minute. The City of Borondarra offers 2 free junk collections each year, we availed ourselves and on the second occasion, filled the allotted space on the nature strip with a 3 metre couch, 2 club chairs along with sundry square metres of objects even included 2 old bicycles. The collection truck arrived and munched the lot. The site of a huge three seater sofa being eater by a truck, reduced my daughter to tears. I was simply amazed but not unhappy to see it go.
The load was divided into a few items for the house, the rest to a large shed that had been prepared for the event. The site of a large Samoan (his words… plenty of muscle, no brains, but a very nice young man… my words) with a huge table was extrordinary. It took till about 8.30 pm to unload, I had no beers in the house, but shouted them some from the Toora pub and they sped home to Melbourne.
I, of course, thought that it was all over. I was terribly wrong, it had just begun. Well in truth, not for me I was kept at a distance and occasionally consulted as to placement. But then ignored anyway. But that left time for me to contemplate my future as landed gentry. What exactly was I? Antique dealer? Business man? Artist? Buddhist monk? A little of everything, but a move can cause some introspection so for a day or two I starred at my navel and contemplated. In the end, I decided that life was worth living and got on with it.
I am obsessed, so many things, so much to do and the days fly by. I am reminded again that one of my more developed obsessions is with bread and baking in general. I blame Iris Edna for this, she made me love bread far too much.
The king of the bakers in Port Fairy was of course, Little Tommy Digby of whom I have written often and who still looms large in my thoughts and food dreams, his contribution to my life of food and eating was boundless influence and even today I can still taste the pastry, the Neapolitan slice and the jam roll and the dozens of other cakes and breads that he made daily for Caddies in the back room with the great wood and gas brick ovens that gave such a special taste.
Alas the king is no more, retired to his fathers stone house at the East Beach and playing the organ at the church, his magic is passed on to others but they do not, as far as I know, have the same touch for the bake house as he did. Well at least not as far as I am concerned.
A magazine crossed my desk today, compliments of the peak body of the bakers of Australia. It made me very nervous and yet also reflective. Have I got the right to demand wood fired ovens made from brick, have I got the right to want breads that are made from superb flours with real yeasts and sour dough starters, have I got the right to demand from my local baker, cakes of great quality and taste, jams that are real, sugars that are free from chemicals. In fact the whole thing free from chemicals. I think I do, but alas I may well be alone in this, since most bakers these days seem not to be able to make breads from scratch, cakes from beginning to end. At least that’s the way the magazine sees it.
Lets look at this one thing at a time. Ovens seems like a place to start. Let me start with a question… why is it that Italian Pizza makers and Jamie Oliver all seem to think that a wood fired oven is essential to life and limb and, while I am at it, a trip by anyone to Costante Imports in Bell Street Preston, will garner you a small, but impressive (steel it has to be admitted) outdoor oven, along with some of the great Italian cooking delights, you will leave there with a much deflated wallet. The food cooked in these things does taste different, it has a more earthy, rich and round taste. Why is it that bakers who have been lucky enough to have found premises with wood fired ovens installed, cannot bake enough bread to keep up with the demand. But please, tell me someone, and I am prepared to be wrong here; are the stainless steel and glass, free standing, plug in, on wheels ovens of todays bake house any better/worse/same as wood fired or for that matter gas ovens?
Is this whole issue a little like the unwashed baking dish of my mothers past, made the best gravy and roast meats to perfection, roast potatoes that you would travel to eat. A clean stainless steel roasting dish is just not the same. But then again it can be me, I have noticed as I grow into maturity, a decided tendency to reject the new and spiffy and rely on the old clobber. Mind you there are some things that you just have to have, blenders, mixers, induction cook tops and oh, I would say about a million or so small, but in my case utterly essential tools and appliances which no kitchen of mine could ever possibly not have.
Turned the page and became nauseous. They are now introducing a bread that is made with gelatine. Gelatine is for Jellies. Claims that the bread is made much softer and delicious with the addition of this product. I could feel the spirit of Tommy Digby move at that moment, as if to haunt the page and try to expunge it from view.
So much flour is grown under less than ideal conditions and so much of the wheat and grain is grown with way too many chemicals. Its all about production and money money money. Its about way to much of our wheat and grain farms being taken over by multi nationals and using the same techniques as are found in the USA, developing mega farms. Bugger it, I want to see Australian farms left in the hands of farmers who have farmed and grown on them for generations, I don’t want to see us loose our quality and our standards. I am also alarmed to see that GM modified flour is fast becoming a reality and that is not good.
Google organic flour and you will be surprised to see how few growers and mills there are, it is not of major interest or impact in the over all sales and these would have to come from the bread manufacturers of the ubiquitous white sliced loaf, sold and eaten by millions, I don’t know that even amongst the artisanal bakers of bread, you could actually buy a loaf that is baked from certified organic flour. It may be that owing to some regulation and price manipulation, the cost of a fully organic commercial loaf would be too high.
But lets take a look at the operators of the bakeries in Australia. I am sure that in some there will be found men and woman who have served their apprenticeship and have learned their craft and cooking ability. I have in my possession a hotel training manual from the kitchens of what was the Victoria Hotel in Little Collins street. This hotel was the hotel that served the vast majority of country people who came to Melbourne for various reasons, it offered great clean accommodation and a dining room that specialised in foods similar to what would be found at home. It boasted an almost self sufficient kitchen and amongst the things that they did was to bake their own bread. The manual covers all the steps and moves in detail for not only bread, but cakes, biscuits and deserts. It is, by any standard a revelation and should be used today by the many bread shops which dot the landscape offering mediocre food and called by themselves, artisanal. Indeed it may well be an art, but it certainly lacks the taste and food values that, as an indulged fellow in a town of just 2000 people, came to accept and expect from the three bakers in town. I wonder what sort of courses are offered and their content in the food teaching facilities today, are the young bakers required to undergo some sort of formal training, or is it a matter of learn as you go on the job, you wonder how much learning is needed to simply add water and stir well to the ‘bread mixes’ that are supplied by head office. Mind you to know just what is in those mixes would also be of enormous interest.
Sadly we have become a society that accepts that mediocre is good enough, that bread the like of which I grew up on is no longer widely available and that should you be lucky enough to have a great baker near you, then you are going to pay extra for the bread. Complain bitterly I say, bitch and moan and you will get good results. Do not accept second best, maybe the odd time, specially in the area of human relations, but when it comes to food, no way. Or bake your own bread…
1 kg bread flour (slightly higher Protein content)
780 mil water
20 grams salt (I usually add 1.5 desert spoons of cooking salt)
1 teaspoon dry yeast
1 level dessertspoon of sugar… no more.
Put all the above into a container (I use a 10 litre plastic bucket with a lid) that you can leave it in overnight. Use the handle end of a wooden spoon and mix until all is combined. The mix will look lumpy. With 20 minute intervals … wet your hand and pull the dough from the corner (4 directions) into the middle, stretching well. By the end of the fourth round, your dough will be silky smooth and a little on the wet side. Put it to sleep overnight.
Turn your stove on to 240 Celsius and put into it a lidded cast iron casserole pot. The idea is that it should get as hot as the oven. Meanwhile sprinkle a little flour around the perimeter of the container, release the dough and do a bit stretch of the dough upwards and fold to the other corner, this is called stretch and fold. Do this for all 4 corners, twice. Wait until the pot and oven have reached heat, remove the cast iron casserole, sprinkle it well with flour, carefully lift the bread into the pot, replace lid and return to the oven. Cook for 30 – 35 minutes with the lid on, remove the lid and cook for a further 10 – 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow to cool on a wire rack. Simple, delicious and rewarding.
Peter Watson's Real Food 