Filed under: Food
I love silky soft, delicate stuff like chawanmushi or the korean gyeran jjim and egg custard. I think chawanmushi should be a breakfast dish. With braised mushrooms and a pork broth. Imagine a good sized pot of that in the morning. But you’d probably need some rice to make it more substantial, that’s the main issue, it’s just too light. Maybe I’d just add more layers. Like minced pork at the bottom, then spinach, then mushrooms and cook it in a transparent glass so you can see the layers and the colors.
The other type of egg I love is Onsen Tamago, or eggs poached in a hot spring. In Singapore & Malaysia, we have a similar thing for breakfast that goes with a little bit of dark soy, some white pepper and coffee. That was like my fave breakfast when I was 9. Or 19. And every year in between. It’s an amazing example of what low temperature, slow cooking can do to create awesome texture in the slithery white and the unctuous, slimy goop that is the yolk. Plus, you don’t even need a vacuum machine or an immersion circulator. You just use the egg shell itself. What I’d like to see is a croque madame with Onsen Tamago, rice bun slices of “bread” and pork belly braised in soy. Like Kong Ba Pao with a poached egg.
Fried eggs are a treat. I like the variation in texture. When you watch an egg transform under duress from heat, it’s an interesting lesson that heat transfers over time and the changes in the egg are dependent on the temperature as well as the conductivity of the pan used. If you fried an egg slowly and gently, under low heat, you’d get a more uniform, smooth, white surface. If you just whacked it on high heat with loads of oil, you’d get a bubbly, fierce surface that’s sometimes completely rubbery on the outside and the secondary layer of white remains somewhat uncooked. Or you could just drop it in a deep fryer and get this very crispy and rubbery egg. I like the slow method because ultimately, the temperature of your stove is still high enough that the bottom of the egg gets crispy, then you get a relatively uniform softness to the white, which appears smooth and clean and the yolk stays liquid. I got this thing about eating fried eggs though. I bend over, mouth first towards the yolk, pressing my lips gently over the goldenness below and suck, very lightly until the surface breaks and I slurp to maximize the textural delight. Then I attack the whites with a knife and fork or bare hands, whichever’s available. Enjoying the contrast of crisp and silky. Then, with the second egg, I try to combine all three and use some toast or whatever to mop up whatever’s left on the plate. If I’m eating over some rice, I always mash the yolk into the rice and hack away with furious level chopstickery.
What kinda eggs does you like?
Filed under: Drink
My friend has this habit of pouring the sugar over the top layer of foam on her lattes or cappuccinos. Then she sorta spreads it out to even things slightly before spooning mouthfuls away. Clearly, she enjoys the soft, dense milk foam with a little bit of crunchy sugar. Which keeps making me think of trying to caramelise the sugar that you’d put on top of the latte.
Obviously, if I took a torch and tried to burn the thing, I’d just end up with the sugar dropping into the coffee below after I wipe out the foam entirely. No matter how stable the foam matrix, any application of direct and violent heat required to caramelise sugar would surely make all the air in the foam dissipate, rendering the idea stupid.
Which means that in order for me to achieve a candy shell full of latte foam, I’d have to reverse engineer it. Make the shell first, then fill the interior with a whipper or a foaming device. Or maybe… I could make the coffee inside a 5 sided candy shell, expresso, crema and foam, a baby-latte and then, seal the top with a final wafer of candy shell that’s midly torched at the sides to join, like welding the panels together. I suppose the sugar would melt though.
Perhaps a 3rd element is required to finish the jigsaw.
Someone please tell me how to make a crispy, 1mm thin caramel shell containing warm cappuccino foam inside!
This is mostly applied to women in Sydney, although I reckon you’ll find these problems are prevalent elsewhere too. Girls, why do you wear the following?
- Uggs? I always get the “they’re comfy” answer but the same girls will also jump at a nice pair of heels. Que?
- Pleather tights. It is horrible when the weakass material gets stretched out and you get this saggy ass look.
- The Pocahontas headband. Just confuses me. Ethnically and politically.
- High waisted bottoms. Your waist is where your waist is, not where your tits are.
- Jeggings. Super stretch anything already looks bad as pants. Why do you want fake denim that is overstretched and wear them underwear as outerwear style?
- Shorts/Short Skirts in cold weather with leggings underneath. I mean mid thigh at the longest as well. Wrong weather concepts hello?
- Rabens. Not just girls but people still wear these? The Chinese slave children who make these welcome your charity. $20???
- Crocs. These are like Uggs, only uglier.
- Titless chicks wearing maxi dresses. If you ain’t aphrodite, you can’t wear it babe.
- Country Road duffles. Why does everyone, boy or girl buy these? It’s like the only CR item that anyone buys??? They ain’t cheap either.
I guess I probably know a little too much about chick fashion but I really cannot stand to see most of the shit up there. It’s not that they can’t look good on some girls but most people do it all wrong and some are just totally whack. Guys have shit fashion trends too but they tend to look awful most of the time anyway and I don’t look at guys. I want to delight in the beauty and splendour of the female form and not avert my gaze because it’s shrouded in sartorial depravity.
Do me a favor and burn that shit.
So my Objectified DVD just got in the mail like 3 days ago and last night was a time when I could muster the strength to watch it. Its just been one late night with an early start after another so whatever. So right, the film. It’s nice, I suppose. Gary Hustwit is really good at noticing these little details that attach the viewer to humanity at large in relation to the context of the film. He also focuses on very quaint, yet poignant, statements and ideas that address the behemoth that is design, or more precisely industrial design.
There’s plenty of stars from the design world featured here, from the Bondi bum attitude of Marc Newson to the sagely Dieter Rams or the childlike Naoto Fukasawa, it’s definitely interesting if you’re a designer fanboy like I am. I dunno why but I reckon I just admire the philosophies that each individual has. You can say all you want about each one but they’re all where they are today because they think different than you or me.
I appreciate that the film is one that provides a good amount of insight into the design process and all its trials and tribulations. The film takes the viewer from idea conception and generation through to the solutions, then the refinement processes and the eventual outcome and also the ramifications of what they have done. You get to see Jonathan Ive compare an aluminum blank to the finished keyboard cover piece on the Macbook Pro (unibody version) and how designing it wasn’t so much designing the keyboard cover but the processes involved to make it possible. Or the team at IDEO generating completely random and silly ideas for a toothbrush/oral care concept. Or Smart design take out a box full of foam models that eventually led to the OXO good grips peeler. Or Naoto Fukasawa talk about why he put facets on a handphone because of a memory of peeling potatoes as a child. It’s like memories of uni revisited. Hello long nights in the studio! I so do not miss you.
For most people, I think design still remains far removed but I think it should stay that way. Like most of the designers in the film, I too believe design shouldn’t even be seen. Like Apple’s monitors where they try to remove everything and leave you with the screen or the indicator lights that only appear when they need to. You could argue that in the former, nobody really cares or maybe it’s an evil Apple plot to mind control humanity into slavery in Steve Jobs future robotic utopia but it’s really about attention to detail. Great designers make stuff nobody even notices and take for granted. They just do what they’re intended for. You can’t please everyone though. Between the money men and raving teenagers or cranky people. It’s a tough life being a tastemaker.
I’ve always obsessed over the material world, from having the biggest brand whatever to the most hyped this or the legendary XXX designed that. And when I hear Dieter Rams right at the end talking about how design will be more about survival in the future, I almost feel a pinch of hypocrisy in myself. But sorry, I remain indignant that I am a materialistic bigot that thinks he has better taste than everyone else. Rams excluded. Have you seen his pad? It is the shiznit. And his accent and mannerisms. MY GOD! So German! So Kunst! So cold. Just like his coffee maker. Yes I miss his coffee maker. Even if I much prefer expresso coffee, that Braun makes me wish I were drinking drip. I guess I always feel more for the object than for the activity. The tangible, material world rather than the experienctial, emotional one. I must be part German maybe. No. I’m way too humorous.
I think it’s nice to have a film like this. That appreciates the under-appreciated and the maniacal few that decided that they wanna be designers. I think the next film Mr. Hustwit tackles should be a food one. Where he puts his keen eye for detail real up close and personal (you can actually see the lines the lathe makes when it carves out the objectified logo on a piece of white polycarb!) and people can get really hungry. He could do a few of the Michelin starred peeps and then some of the old school guys and some weirdos or whatever. Or maybe a fashion one with the Antwerp 6 at a roundtable sharing jokes or Dolce & Gabbana & Bruno hello?
Filed under: Food
When I am sick hungry but feel like I can wait an hour, I roast a chicken. It’s like my goto recipe. The one when I don’t wanna think, I just wanna eat something beautiful and incredibly easy to do. Like microwaving frozen pies or making tuna mayo sandwiches. The recipe is as follows.
Pick a good bird, organic schmorganic. One that weighs around a kilo is ideal.Pre heat oven to at least 250 degrees celsius. Dry the bird with paper towels then truss it well.
Throw salt evenly over the breast. Put it in the hot oven. Wait an hour. Profit.
How I came across this method is sorta how I decided I wanted to become a chef. I was down and out, jobless and lazy as shit, mostly just whiling my time away. I just happened to be in a library and this was like 3 years ago or whatever. In between glancing pretentiously at stuff by Sartre and Derrida (I’m serious, this happened), I also gazed longingly at the cookbooks section. I suppose when you’re down, you get hungry and maybe you wanna cook. Which I certainly did. One of the first cookbooks I borrowed was Bouchon. I had no clue who Thomas Keller was at the time, I just flipped through and liked the pictures. I think I was sold on the profiteroles or whatever. I understand how snooty it sounds at this point lol! Anyway, I borrowed the book and brought it home. Then I duly followed the first recipe. Which is abbreviated above and the rest is history.
The “recipe” isn’t so much a recipe as it was a recipe. Um. I mean, not a detailed script dictating what to do and how to do it. Moreso an idea, a philosophy in and of itself. One about simplicity. I mean, what’s complicated about sticking a bird into a hot oven? You don’t baste it, you don’t sear it beforehand, you don’t need to slab butter under the skin, you don’t gotta buy a truffle and make a reduction or pacojet the essence of the crushed bones into a quenelle of foam whilst nitro-ing the skin into a crisp. You stick it in an oven.
The result is marvellous. The concept is so simple. High, dry heat. The skin gets nice and crisp because the salt draws out moisture and forms a sort of shell and because the heat is high. The flesh is super tender, breast, thighs whatever. Juicy and delicious. Mostly because you truss it and the salt crusted skin, I suppose, also helps somehow in reducing moisture loss as it forms a sort of ceiling. The other key ingredient is time. The anticipation and the unraveling and the immediate consumption. If you left the chicken too long after it cooked, it would be boring. But because I ALWAYS devour the beast and I typically do the whole bird 5 minutes after it pops out the oven, I am already predisposed towards an enjoyable meal. Of course, these are mere details. It all falls into place because it just does. You don’t have to worry about x factors or y possibilities. Just stick the bird in the oven.
Actually, the only thing I’d add is the use of a wire rack so the chicken fat can drip off and the bottom of the bird stays drier.
If you want to impress your girl and show that you can cook. This is it. All you need to do is try it once first and learn how to maybe truss the chicken via youtube and how to cut up the bird after it’s done. Seriously it’s so damn easy even if you serve it with some McDonald’s fries or whatever, your girl would call you Bocuse as she um, enjoys her meal. Like I said, I keep it extremely minimal. Just the bird. In the oven. I eat barbarian steez. Bare hands and a box of tissues. That’s got some suggestive undertones there but read what you will.
I guess Thomas Keller saved my life. Dayum. I got comfort outta one of the most comfort food recipes in the world plus I managed to squeeze in some existentialist bullcrap into the story and even sexual innuendo.
My parents’ visit provided the perfect opportunity to fleece them and expand my food universe. I brought them to Single Origin & Campos for Coffee, a decent butcher in Hudson Meats, Chef’s Warehouse, T2, Garfish for more fish and il Baretto for Duck Ragu Papardelle. (Haha! Everything’s food related!) Yet, to me, the highlight was Formaggi Ocello’s outlet in Surry Hills. An Italian cheesemonger, it was superbly stocked with hard and soft and blue and washed cheeses that I’ve never even heard of, nevermind smelt or tasted. I finally did get the chance at last. Beautiful Pecorino with Truffles was heaven. Returning soon for more smelly action. They also stock all the good Oz/European stuff as well as some other deli stuffs. But the Italian cheeses are the stars of the show.
Rose Bay is about 10 or 15 minutes from the city, away from the hustle and bustle and the hoons but it doesn’t display too much opulence despite its reputation as a well to do neighborhood. It’s understated, until you realize that those houses are actually really massive and there’s quite a lot of boats on the water. Still, you don’t notice it.
Pier sits atop an actual pier, jutting out onto Rose Bay itself. Glass lining either side, it’s incredibly subtle and elegant. On first glance, you wouldn’t think it’s necessarily home to a 3 hat diner. No you have to notice the idea behind how it’s sited and how it’s designed around the location itself. You’re dining almost out on the water, with a view that’s nondescript and perhaps unspectacular. You’re not going to see the opera house bathed in the glow of the city lights. It’s just a rather tranquil, minimalist approach to a restaurant. You feel like you’re almost on the water, but you’re completely dry. At once caught in some wonderful intermediary between land and sea, natural and man made.
Which is Pier from start to finish, every minutiae, every detail, every nuance. Some people won’t get it at all. They want the fireworks and the pizazz and the big bangs and the foams and the sperificacions and service that sucks up or whatever. No. Pier is for the people who appreciate the simple, underappreciated things in life. The delicate lightness of being. A certain refined sense of life beyond the ordinary brusqueness with which we approach things.
I suppose my opinion is clouded by several factors. One. I’ve just graduated culinary college and my parents came over for a visit. Two. I didn’t pay a cent HHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Three. I love seafood. Four. I’m into this quiet, suppressed expressionist vibe right now. Even then, you’d have to be really thick to not appreciate the flavors and the beauty on the plate.
I’m greeted by the waitstaff by name, a pleasant little surprise despite the obviousness of the situation. It shows I was expected and that they care. We sit at the table and get some still water whilst we browse the menu. As we eat, the restaurant fills up half full. Yet, they purposely keep all the customers on one side of the long room, allowing the other side to retain an unspoiled view of the boats on the bay awash in the light of the setting sun. Like a fading vesper hinting at what was to come.
We opted for the 8 course degu. With matching wines. Plus 6 oysters each. 3 rock, 3 coffin bay. Plus coffee. Damages were insane. Yet, it felt completely worth it. It was, I must confess, the best meal I have had to this point in my life. I sincerely hope it will not be the best ever. I know there is even better. Yet, I still feel Pier deserves its place in the culinary world as something beautiful and something I can truly appreciate. It’s so me. The fact that it’s seafood, the delicate nature, the thoughtfulness, the attention to detail… It’s no mind altering experience but it’s what a really awesome restaurant should be.
We start with oysters. I devour them before I remember to pull my camera. I went from left to right, rock then coffin then rock and so on. Starting au naturel, then adding lemon then mignonette at the end. They’re superbly fresh. But they’re also just oysters. I want moar!!!
First course was a canape straight from Thomas Keller. King salmon tartare with capers sitting on a cone made of wonton skin. The variation being the wonton skin swopped for the tuile in Keller’s original. The fish is fresh, you can tell with each firm little bite, despite the fact that it’s tiny little cubes. The capers lend this saltiness that is intended. As a palate opener and not as a dish in its own right. I realize this only after the meal. The ultra crisp wonton skin also adds to that effect as the gustatory actions are driven into work and attention. One side detail were the holders for these. Ours came in a set of three, whilst the people dining at other tables had a holder specifically designed for 2 cones because they were a couple. Another group had 2 sets of 2. If it were a holder with 4 cones, they’d have to pass it around, which would be silly.
2nd course was Carpaccio of John Dory with Tomato, Lime Vinaigrette, Cracked White Pepper and Soft Herbs. I loved the presentation. It led you on to start from the outside, untouched fish to the slices sitting within the dressing, giving the dish a certain evolution of flavor as you went along. It was delightful. I flipped each slice into a tiny little packet and placed it into the orifice. It is deceptively simple. Once in the mouth, you get a full burst of fish and herbs, brought on in no small part with a good dose of sea salt. The John Dory just strong enough to handle the herbs and still dominate in its own right. When I got to the dressing, it simply transgressed to the next level. The lime brightening up the palate and the oil helping the flavors to linger in the mouth just that bit longer. Every single apprehension I had was wiped away. Immediately I realized this was going to be so freakin’ awesome. I suppose it helped immensely that we started with a biggish white. A 2007 Castro Martin Albarino from Rias Baixas in Spain. Peaches and apples. Perfectly complimentary to the dish and so drinkable on its own.
3rd course. Tian of Spanner Crab with Scallop Ceviche, Pea Salad and Pea Jus. This upped the ante. The crab was sweet and tender. Delightful little morsels amplified in flavor with the very similar sweetness from the fresh peas. These were unbelievable. Then you get the textural link, with the crab and the pea jus provided a similar, brushy/hairy feeling at the top of the mouth. The scallop provided contrast with its smooth slickness. Then the matching Sauvignon Blanc gave it just the right acid kick.
4th course. Pan Roasted Scallops with Sauteed Veal Sweetbreads, Shimeji Mushrooms & Cauliflower Tofu. I usually baulk at repeat ingredients but this scallop and the one before felt like alternate universes. This was a course in full texture with increasing flavor. Perfectly roasted scallops just browned on the outside were given a splendid depth from the richness of the sweetbread and the savoryness of the mushroom jus. The cauliflower tofu reflected the scallops even more so and felt similar to the matching wine. Here, the wine matched in terms of viscosity, rather than flavor as the principle. Interesting and incredibly delicious.
5th course. Crispy Skinned Murray Cod wth Caramelised Witlof, Jamon Serrano, Dutch Carrots and Bitter Orange. Iberico would have swamped the fish, overpowering it. The mildly bitter/astringent aspect from the witlof and orange was countered by the fact that they were also sweet. The carrots also provided another sweet accent, only in high contrast crunchy versus creamy puree. The puree itself was beautifully scented with orange. The dish was sublime. A perfect marriage of multiple textures and flavors that seemed like a cohesive whole. Another added extra was the unremarkable pinot noir that lifted the dish all the more. Most whites would not have been able to take on the mantle this dish proffers. This dish exemplifies how well the sommelier works with head chefs Greg Doyle and Grant King.
6th course. This merged the savory and sweet worlds. Roquefort Cheesecake with Pear Gel, Celery, Maple Syrup, Fig and Grissini Sticks. I can’t explain fully why there isn’t a hint of blue in the cheese. Or how the thing was so damn good. Suffice to say that it was so damn good. The orangey dessert wine that went with this was phenom.
7th Course. A light as air Carrot Sponge. Possibly an aerated genoise served with some cream cheese, peanuts and cream cheese frosting. I remember the frosting having a sherbet-esque taste and how the sponge was lighter than souffle. Excuses for the blur photo! As an exercise in lightness, this was perfect, given we were almost at the end and getting full. Yet, despite the near nothingness, it was still full on flavor.
Last and final course. A spectacular finish from Katrina Kanetani. Rum Braised Bananas with Rum Sponge, Coconut Sorbet, Almond Brittle, Cocoa Powder and Tamarind Jelly. Resplendent in its marriage of textures, flavors and presented amazingly. This is one where you need a little bit of everything in one awesome mouthful. This came with a Chenin Blanc but I swiped that mostly with the carrot cake already!
And to finish for good, a cappuccino with some orange marshmallows!
Thanks Mom & Dad!
Ok this isn’t a collabo album between a retired basketball player and Danger Mouse. No folks, Magic Mouse is Apple’s latest product, a multi touch surface mouse that hopefully does away with the problems of the old one, the fact that the side panels were oversensitive and the scroll wheel died after like 3 months. It ain’t that pricey either. Plus it’s wireless and they apparently upgraded the laser tracking. Plus you can use the multi touch functions you’ve come to love on your iPod touch, iPhone, Macbooks… No clue about how ergonomic or how accurate the clicks are though.
I think any guy can attest to what this song is talking about, the fact that all women stare at our family juelz when they checking us out.
Filed under: Food
The other day, a mate asked me, what the difference was between Brie and Camembert. They’re actually really similar. Both are made from cow’s milk and it’s the unpasteurized versions that are supposed to be better. In terms of texture, they’re really similar. I’d say of all the camemberts I’ve had, they tend to be more chalky and firm whereas bries can be seriously melty. Flavor wise, they’re also rather similar. Both display mushroomy flavor profiles as the biggest note. Where they differ is in the location, and hence, the terroir of the cheese. Brie is from the Ile de France, somewhere near-ish Paris, more specifically Seine et Marne, the province named after the two rivers. Camembert, is from Normandy, up on the north coast. Nowadays, for both cheeses, they’re protected by AOC distinctions that make Brie Brie and Camembert Camembert. They must come from a specific region within the province, the milk must be unpasteurized cow’s milk and specific procedures have to be followed in the production. Another interesting distinction is that camembert typically comes in wooden boxes, originally designed to handle transport and shipping back when the railroads started and people wanted camemberts but didn’t live anywhere near Normandy. This relates also to the size of the two cheeses. Camemberts are smaller whilst Brie comes in huge wheels. When I say this, I’m referring to the AOC variety. Nowadays, you find all kinds of cheeses labelled brie or camembert and they come in all sizes and from all over. However, only that many cheeses can be termed as Brie de Meaux/Melun or Camembert de Normandie.
The Camembert I bought from Fourth Village Providore was a “real” camembert from Normandy, produced by the Isigny Ste Mere cooperative, a bigger, more mass market production. That’s because I’m one person, and also because you can’t find the unpastuerized, ultra authentic variety in Australia, so I got a Petit Camembert. Which stinks! Surprising cos, normally I get mushrooms when I unveil my camemberts/bries. Flavor wise, it definitely has a slight herbal, almost aniseedy, even antiseptic note. Then there’s the expected mushrooms and it’s swelling with creaminess. Mine’s pretty ripe, I think most would call it over because it has that certain ammonia stench to it. It’s not as bad as you might think though. For a soft mould cheese, this one is really flavorful and has a very pleasant, mildly sweet aftertaste and the tiniest bite at the back of the tongue/throat. Beautiful.
When I put the nectarines in my mouth, the palate got cleansed but it felt like there was alcohol as well. Weird! Probably my nectarines just too sour. I can easily imagine some apple chips to go with this. In fact, they do a version with Calvados in it too. Most people prefer it “a coeur”, which is like, on the cusp of turning liquid I suppose. I like mine melted inside and so odorful that my housemates yearn for my blood. Mmm mmm.
