The first beer (Coopers pale ale) didn’t touch the sides. The second was savoured out on the deck in the fading light. One of the nicest bits about living in the “bush” is that the wildlife make a big song and dance about settling down for the night. Black cockatoos fly back up the valley from their dalliance in town, frogs start croaking (in a good way) and the parrots and other birds slowly quieten as the sun dips behind the ridge into the sea beyond.

On the menu tonight:- fresh salmon, and cauliflower with cheese sauce. A crisp white wine.

Take a couple of slices of fresh salmon. Pinbone them. Gently rub them all over with a little extra virgin olive oil, season with salt and plenty of black pepper. Set them on one side while you deal with the other stuff. Test the wine.

Cut up the cauliflower and add to a pan with water and a pinch of salt and cook until done.

In another pan, saute off a dollop of butter and some plain flour (equal quantities of each) to make a roux. Cook it for a couple of minutes and then add milk, stirring constantly until the desired thickness is reached. Add a teaspoon of Dijon mustard and  plenty of grated mature fresh parmesan so it tastes good and cheesy. Taste it! Then adjust the seasoning. Taste, taste and taste until you are happy. Spilling a wee bit of white wine into the pot at this point is a good idea. Leave the sauce to gently simmer on the stove while you cook the salmon.

Get a wide pan good and hot and place the salmon skin side down and enjoy the sizzle. Make sure the wine hasn’t gone off in the time you have been doing all this. You need to get the skin crisp (it’s the best bit!) and the salmon can be cooked almost all the way on this one side. When it’s close to being done (it still needs to be “pink” in the middle ie: medium rare) flip it over and sear it lightly on the top.

Plate up the salmon and cauliflower and pour the cheese sauce over the cauliflower. A little chopped parsley over the top of the cauli looks pretty if you like green stuff. Serve with the crisp white wine you have been testing.

Enjoy.

Kind regards,

J

PS: in the morning serve a little of the leftover cheese sauce on your BLT… yum.

I was tired Thursday night. Ten hours on my feet and two and a bit hours of commute. What’s for dinner?

Well, we start with a beer, naturally. What’s in the fridge? Everything? I think Tapas style is in order tonight.

Ok, a yellow capsicum. What else? An onion, a generous serve of extra virgin olive oil, a slurp of the riesling from my glass and several chunks of bread sliced and toasted. Oh, and some very fresh lamb kidneys bought the day before (Hmm, that probably wipes out 50 % of my audience, but trust me).

The onion was chopped and the capsicum sliced into thin strips. Both were sautéed in some of the olive oil for about 20 minutes until they were slightly caramelised and soft and the pan was filled with the cooking liquer.

The kidneys were halved and the funny white finger like thingies you find in the middle removed, (scissors are good for getting rid of this but I’m too tired to get technical.) The kidneys  were salted and peppered and sauted in a big pan until the juices ran clear and the outer surface turned a gentle brown. A plate received the kidneys and then into the pan went a quick slosh of white wine and a little more olive oil and then magic, a thin sauce to pour over the kidneys when plated up.

The yellow capsicum, onion and browned kidneys just demanded a couple of slices of  thick crisp toast to soak up the juices. Peasant food yes, but ever so good. My belly was satisfied and the remainder of the riesling slipping down rather well…

 kind regards

J

There are two glorious green orbs of goodness waiting for me on the butchers block in my kitchen. They glisten in the bright light of halogen downlights, sitting there, proudly waiting for me to turn them into something spectacularly good. Sauerkraut.

Tomorrow maybe, they will be shredded by hand, strewn with Murray River Pink Salt flakes, and scattered with carraway seeds. Then, they will be packed and pounded into a Harsch crock, and placed lovingly by the side of the wood fired hearth, to ferment gently at 20’c for about a week and then moved to a cooler 15-18’c for a week or two more.

Lactobacillus fermentation takes place and the cabbage is transformed into the delicious and delectable sauerkraut, which is a wonderful digestive and restorative food, that has for centuries, been a staple of marching armies.

There is a book by a fellow by the name of Sandor Ellix Katz (Wild Fermentation) that describes the health benefits of eating this wonderful product. It’s worth a read.

For anyone who has had an issue with digestion, there are many references that are available to improve your condition. Over the next few months, I hope to impart some knowledge that you may find useful.

In the meantime, have fun with what you prepare, and enjoy the food you eat. There is no greater pleasure than a full and satisfied belly.

 Kind regards,

J

‘T was a dark and stormy night…

Well actually it is. There is a roaring log fire in the hearth beating out some serious heat and sending its flickering glow across the room. The aroma of cooking food fills the house, in a good way, and I am looking forward to tucking into a dish my mother served to us with love.

Scotch broth.

Yes I know, so simple, yet so tasty and nurturing. Don’t forget the fresh bread with lashings of Danish butter…

I cheated and used a pressure cooker tonight. Normally, I would have left the thing slowly bubbling (barely) on the top of the combustion stove all afternoon, but meh, not that lucky today. If you don’t have a PC, then cook the thing for a couple of hours or so on a low heat untill the meat is tender and the barley is all unctuous yummy goodness… 

You take a kilo of best end of neck lamb chops, trimmed up if you must (you can skim the broth if you make it a day ahead) a leek, two chopped cloves of garlic, a humongous carrot, a couple of sticks of celery, 1/3 cup of barley, salt + pepper to taste and a generous 5 cups of home-made chicken stock. (a dash of thai fish sauce adds to the umami effect) Dust the lamb with a little seasoned plain flour, about a tablespoon. Have a glass of wine.

Fry off the leak in a little, wait for it…

Dripping! (gasp, shock, horror! Trust me, you only need a little and the flavour IS worth it!) Duck or goose fat is the other option. When the leek “wilts” throw in the rest of the veggies for a couple of minutes to “sweat them off,” stirring constantly, then add the lamb and fry for a couple of minutes more. Drink more wine.

Pop in the rest of the ingredients, shut the lid, and cook on High pressure for about 25 mins and then allow natural release of the pressure. More wine Sir, s’il vous plaît. 

Serve in deep bowls with the aforementioned bread and butter. Accompanied with pickled red cabbage, it works well,  as it does with a dollop of home-made sauerkraut. Hmm yummy. Have another wine and snuggle infront of the fire…

The rain is beating down on the tin roof and I am warm and cosy and well fed, looking forward to my pit. All is right in my little world. Even the dog thinks so. Now for a wee snort of single malt.

Kind regards, 

J 

PS: when I work out how to upload photo’s, you may have more to look forward to.

Well, here we go on the exciting, (for me anyway), life of the blogging populace. Here, I will attempt to unleash upon the world my view on food, gastronomy, and the lengthy contemplation of ones naval, whilst messing about with ingredients for the next culinary adventure. Pass the wine please, it could be a long night.

Food should be a social activity. That includes the preparation, as well as the eating and clearing away of the meal. Sadly, with life becoming so busy and families so fragmented, it seems that the nurturing effect of “mothers cooking” has been lost in the realms of the past. It doesn’t have to be like that. Even if we are busy and stretched by circumstance, it is still possible to eat simply, well, and economically, with just a bit of effort (and not much of that really).

You don’t have to open a jar of homogenized, standardised bland flavour and throw it into a pot and eat. Some of the best meals are simple and easy with just a few fresh seasonal, and preferably local, ingredients. Who can’t remember that special summer taste of good ripe tomatoes and avocado on sour dough with a drizzle of fruity olive oil and salt and pepper? Smell the warm fresh air and feel the sun on your skin while the fermented grape juice washes it all down, and reminisce. Who were you with?

I hope to impart some witticisms and culinary insights, maybe even a recipe or two, but mostly the benefits of eating for pleasure that translates into eating for good health. We shall see. You are what you eat, so therefore, a little bit of what you fancy does you good. Can you hear me channelling my mother? Welcome to my strange little world.

Kind regards,

J