The Analytical Kitchen

And sometimes you need a hiatus, to enjoy simplicity, executed well…

Like infusing lamb burgers (ground Australian lamb shoulder has enough fat and flavour – no need for anything else!) over aromatic flames of Bay Laurel…

Lamb burgers infused with flamed Bay Laurel branches

Especially if they’re served with slow fried onion or home-made mayonnaise…

Very slow fried onion

Or making bacon from scratch…

Frying home made bacon

Or simply roasting a chicken (stuffed with lemon, butter and herbs; best roasted at 180°C for 1 hour covered, then another 30 mins to crisp the skin)…

Roast chicken, roast potato, steamed brocolli

Or a simple delicious summer salad of odds and ends…

Salad of grilled capsicum (bell pepper), cucumber, goat cheese, hard boiled egg, herbs

Or Baba ganoush, with just the right amount of smokiness, garlic, olive oil, tahini, and toasted sesame seeds…

Baba ganoush

Or… before a need for more inspiration…

In 2014-2015 I conquered my last vegetable hurdle, the Brussels sprout. I can now say I enjoy eating every vegetable I know, provided it’s cooked appropriately.

In the case of the Brussels sprout, “cooked appropriately” means cooking them in such a way that the sulphides don’t take center stage (as for cauliflower, cabbage, turnip…). In other words, don’t overcook them, or they’ll stink.

My personal epiphany with the Brussels sprout occurred in late 2014 at Hungry Duck restaurant (Berry, NSW, Australia). I’m not sure exactly what the chef did – it invariably involved char frying/grilling the sprouts with bacon, but I suspect a stock was also involved at some point.

In the winter of 2015, I’ve replicated the treatment, and thus been loving the Brussels Sprout – they can be surprisingly sweet when treated well.

Trim, cut in half, blanche in boiling water for 1 to 2 minutes, then briefly pan fry in oil/bacon fat on high heat. Some char is desirable.

The version making the rounds these days invariably includes bacon, but the above approach works just as well for their incorporation in any dish.

Brussels sprouts and bacon

Almond meal works surprisingly well as a flour dusting/batter substitute.

Scotch Egg: quail egg, sausage meat, almond meal. Fried in coconut oil.

And if your sour chef-to-be happens to be essentially unavailable for cooking (even if available for dinner), reduce the number of diners, go a little more casual, and remain focussed on execution.

Saltimbocca ingredients

In the throes of the autumn of 2014 (May), I came to the primary realisation that doing seven courses for nine people felt like significantly more time in the kitchen than I would prefer.

The larger group of people also meant less opportunity to discuss the food (and wine) with guests, and I felt that presentation had been sacrificed slightly for required speed – nine plates take time to plate-up by only one person.

I suppose 9 people × 7 courses plus 1 amuse (or more accurately put, 23 or so components served to 9 people over 8 courses) is the point where assistance in the kitchen is required so that I don’t compromise on quality (as I’m dining too). For such an event, a fellow-dining ‘sous chef‘, to assist with plating, is probably the way to go.

However, I also realised that a smaller group (five or six diners rather than seven) remains my preference.

Smoked trout wearing choux

Pumpkin, blue cheese and walnut ravioli; crispy sage

Quail, smoked chestnuts, melted leeks, thyme

Chicken liver pâté, caramelised onions, toasted brioche

Pheasant roulade; onion, pistachio and pancetta stuffing; sauerkraut; game jus

Braised Chinese-style pork belly, Szechuan pepper toffee, apple and fennel salad

Cheese, poached pear, croutons, spiced almonds

Chocolate semifreddo, hazelnut fudge

Genuine Greek: Fasolakia, Greek feta, Greek-style toast, Greek basil

The real food of the people is indeed rustic (what ‘everyday’ food isn’t?). It’s open to invariable interpretation (the people in that village make it differently to the people in that village, and even the people in that family make it differently to the people in that family…). It’s traditional, delicious; and perhaps, ultimately, the most rewarding food of all – and that’s saying something!

Fasolakia: Onions fried in plenty of Greek extra virgin olive oil. Deseeded and deskinned fresh tomato and passata are then added, along with garlic and (taditionally) dill (although I use fennel fronds in the absence of the former). Boiled until the beans become tender.

Feta: The ideal for me is a blend ewes and goats milk, with moderate saltiness, good acid-bite, a little creaminess, and a little flavour reminiscent of the belly fur of the goat!

Greek-style toast: Toasted white bread (baguette/pain de campagne), spinkled with dried oregano and salt, and drizzled with Greek extra virgin olive oil (definitely use a Greek EVOO – it’s fruitier and richer tasting).

Greek basil: Not traditional, but works surprisingly well with fasolakia.