Lady Lunchalot

My goodness. Two posts in a week. I hardly recognise myself.

The other day O asked me what I would like for Christmas. I am always a little shocked and mildly embarrassed when I receive a present. Not quite sure why. I think I get so focused on buying presents at Christmas that it never actually occurs to me that I will receive them.

I had no idea what to ask for, but O is such an attentive listener and an expert present-purchaser (think Oroton sunglasses for last year’s Christmas, birthday dinner at Vue de Monde, beautiful art for first wedding anniversary) that I know I’ll love whatever he comes up with.

Unsurprisingly, many of the gifts my nearest and dearest have given me are of the culinary variety. There was the Global knife set from Stu for my 30^th. The Kitchen Aid mixer from the Barcelona boys as a wedding present. Both of these treasures are awaiting my move back into the new house, and, I will admit, are part of the appeal of finally moving back home (not that the baby and the custom designed kitchen aren’t enough of an enticement).

And then of course, there’s my treasured library of cook books, many of which have been welcomingly received as gifts over the years. Zo gave me my first real prize in that department for my 21st - a much loved copy of Stephanie Alexander’s Cook’s Companion. Oh, and not to forget my beautiful timber spice box, which was another 21st gift and has spent the past decade diligently soaking up the scent of my spice collection. I love opening the lid on that box.

As weird as this sounds, many ex boyfriends have given me knives as gifts. Not psycho bloodletting dagger-style knives, but proper kitchen knives. Andrew gave me a Wiltshire knife set at about age 20, with my name engraved in the cooks knife. Mick gave me a beautiful Furi cooks knife years ago which has been my favourite ever since. He even went so far as to tape two coins to each side of the knife to counter the superstition that giving a knife as a gift would “cut” the relationship. We’re still good friends many years after the romance finished, so maybe it worked!

There was also the cast iron Staub cooking pot, a gift from another ex, who also gave me a pasta machine. I remember unwrapping that pot under the Christmas tree and I knew that the pot would be around much longer than the boyfriend was. And I was right!

And of course there’s lots of other things. Mother of pearl handled salad servers from Stu. Muffin pans and lots of baking things from O. Exotic aprons from far flung Asian destinations when friends return from holidays. Ice cream makers (thanks Za). Much needed platters from in-laws. All sorts of goodies to fill my cupboards.

Perhaps over the past 6 months I’ve become so distant from my own kitchen possessions that are packed up in storage, that I really can’t think of anything that I need. Perhaps I am actually content? The only things I want right now are my waistline back, a big jug of Pimms, a good night’s sleep, and a giant wheel of double cream brie, none of which are going to happen for quite a while yet!

For any food lovers still putting their Christmas wishlist together, I came across this great article in the Age.

So what’s on your Christmas wishlist?

The usual trials and tribulations of a pregnancy and a major house renovation have kept me away from the blog for quite a few months now.

We’ve reached 32 weeks, and Bubba Lunchalot is due in Mid Feb - only mere weeks away! Not long to go now…

So food hasn’t really been a major factor in my life lately, except from a nutritional viewpoint. My thoughts tend to revolve around things like whether I’ve been eating enough fish for Omega 3, or have I had enough protein for the day. And then of course there’s all the fun things you’re not supposed to eat that I am REALLY missing, like oysters, smoked salmon, soft boiled eggs, salami and prosciutto, soft serve ice cream, and of course a zillion soft cheeses that I adore. I’ve put in a request for a dozen perfect oysters and a whole wheel of brie or a really nice washed rind with a loaf of sourdough as a present for mum straight after the birth!

O and I also have not been living in our own home since August. We’ve been house-sitting for various friends around town while our house is being renovated. We’ve been staying three weeks here, and a few weeks there while friends go on holiday, so it’s been a little hard to get into cooking when you’re so tired at the end of the day and don’t have all your own kitchen stuff around you.

But I did want to officially thank everyone who has helped us out by opening their homes to us: Kathryn and Tim, Jess and Richard, Stu and Lachie, Amelia and Lee, and Sam and Kath. You’ve really made the past few months soooo much easier for us, and we’re really grateful.

In just over two months we’ll be in our own brand new home (with a brand new custom built kitchen designed by yours truly!) with Baby Lunchalot well installed in the family. I can’t wait. I can’t promise that I’ll blog regularly for the next few months, but I am sure you’ll hear from me from time to time. I’m sure once I’m in the rhythm of my new life as a mum my posts will be more regular again!

In the meantime, have a great Christmas, and remember to indulge in lots of great food, wine, friends and family.

Forgive me, dear readers. I haven’t exactly been writing prolifically lately. The main reason is that I haven’t exactly been eating prolifically, because I’ve been busy baking Something Very Special. (Yes, that’s with capital letters.)

You see, for the past twelve weeks… we’ve had a bun in the oven!

In February O and I will meet Baby Lunchalot!

So I’ve spent the past couple of months feeling very green indeed, and culinary exploration hasn’t exactly been high on the priority list. In fact, I haven’t been able to look at a piece of red meat without feeling my stomach churn in quite a while, and I seem to have developed a strange penchant for chocolate milk and Bega Tasty cheese slices.

So please excuse my recent silence. Writing about food isn’t exactly a great treatment for morning sickness - which, I have to say, is the biggest misnomer in the English language. Just ask anyone who’s ever been up the duff. Trust me, it lasts all day.

Food cravings are a strange thing for a food lover like me. For example, one week I became obsessed with oranges, and went straight to the market, bought six navel oranges and had scoffed three within minutes of returning home. The other day I couldn’t stop thinking about the vegetarian fake meat burger patties I used to eat during the vegetarian phase in my early teens (yes, believe it or not dear readers, this die-hard carnivore was once a vegetarian). I hadn’t thought of those burgers in over 15 years, and the first bite was an almost orgasmic experience! I had been terrified they didn’t make them anymore or that I wouldn’t remember the brand, but there they were on the supermarket freezer shelf - what a relief. There’s nothing quite like satisfying a craving when you’re pregnant.

Food aversions and sensitivity to smell are the other strange things. Red meat has become nothing short of repulsive. And the smell of meat, whether it’s in the fridge or on the grill, is enough to send me running to the loo. When I walk into my supermarket I can immediately smell the meat section lining the back wall of the building. O and I recently bought a beautiful new fridge, and every time I open the door I am hit in the face by that plastic new fridge smell, which puts me off whatever I was just about to eat. I even rubbed vanilla essence on the door seals to try to cover it, but it only worked for a day or so before the plasticky smell fought back.

So while I don’t know what weird food topics I will be writing about until Baby Lunchalot makes his/her debut into the world, I can promise to keep blogging throughout the pregnancy. I’m a firm believer that you are what you eat, and in this case, this little bubba will be a product of what I eat. Does that mean I will be giving birth to a vegetarian cheese lover?

I also wanted to take this opportunity to thank the love of my life and Daddy-to-be, my wonderful O, for his patience over the past few months. I’ve been a bit hard to deal with at times, and he’s been very patient with me. Not to mention putting up with night after night of macaroni cheese. And giving me his Singapore noodles when I couldn’t eat my Char Kway Teow. And for feeding the cat because the smell of Whiskas made me gag. And for barely mentioning a distinct lack of his favourite burritos on the dinner table. And for not complaining about a lamb shankless winter.

Thank you beautiful man. You make me very, very happy. I love you madly. And I promise I won’t eat any more fresh pineapple until February.

Wonderful Ken gave O and I the hugest bag of the cutest, tiniest apples imaginable from his tree. There were so many apples I could barely lift the bag! Some of them were little bigger than a pingpong ball, but each weensy little apple was chock full of fresh autumn apple flavour.

I took half the load into the office, but there was still an overflowing fruit bowl on my kitchen bench. I spent a few days just enjoying the apple-icious scent in my kitchen, and then came to the conclusion that they weren’t getting any younger and I’d better cook something.

One of my colleagues got married recently, and brought in some of his leftover wedding cake to the office. It was the lightest, fluffiest cake I have ever eaten. Apple and rhubarb from (I think) Patersons Cakes in Windsor, one of my favourite cake shops who almost supplied my own wedding cake, except they were on the other side of town. One bite of that cake and I reluctantly announced to the whole office that they REALLY needed to have a slice. I should have kept my trap shut and kept it all to myself!

So with a rainy afternoon to myself and a kitchen full of apples, what else was a girl to do but bake a couple of apple cakes?

After researching a few recipes, I ended up settling on one from The Silver Spoon, with a few tweaks of course. It seemed like a nice, plain straightforward cake, which was perfect, because I wanted the apples to be the star of the show.

This is a very simple cake. It’s not overly sweet, and the plainish flavour of the cake is the perfect vehicle for enjoying the gooeyness of the apples. A great cake to enjoy with an afternoon coffee.

Ingredients

• 3 eggs
• 80g butter
• 300g self raising flour
• 150g caster sugar
• 3 diced apples (I used about 6 because mine were so teensy)

Method

Whip the eggs with the sugar until fluffy and pale. Beat in the butter. (Though next time I try this I will cream the butter and sugar first, then add the eggs. The butter didn’t incorporate well enough for my liking). Sift in the flour, then gently mix the apples. I also added in a few sprinkles of cinnamon and nutmeg with the flour.

Pour into a prepared tin and bake at 180 for 40 mins.

You’re never going to believe what O did last week.

He called me before lunch last Wednesday to tell me that our Brisbane friends, Jo and Dave, were in town for the night and that as it was Jo’s birthday the four of us were going to celebrate at one of my favourite restaurants, Da Noi. Jo and Dave often fly into town for a quick visit, and I was ecstatic about an out-of-the-blue dinner at Da Noi, so I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

But things weren’t quite as they seemed. O managed to explain away the “missed turn” that took us into the city instead of towards South Yarra, and as we turned into Spencer St he told me that he’d lied to me.

Jo and Dave were actually still in Brisbane and we weren’t going to Da Noi at all.

Instead he’d booked the two of us a table at Vue de Monde!

For those of you who haven’t heard of Vue de Monde, it’s a restaurant on Little Collins St that is ranked among the top 100 restaurants in the world, and has culinary virtuoso Shannon Bennett conducting the orchestra from the kitchen.

There was so much going on in this place (service, decor, wine - everything) and all of it amazing. Even the cutlery felt good in my mouth! But for the sake of simplicity I’ve decided just to focus on the food.

Vue de Monde offers a couple of different degustation menus. O and I decided to throw ourselves in the deep end and indulge in the full 10 course gastronome’s menu, complete with wine matching for each course.

Omigod.

We started with an amuse bouche (translates literally as “fun mouth”?) of a couple of escargots with champagne.

I have to say, when you start any evening with escargots and champagne, it’s already been a fantastic evening.

Next we moved on to dehydrated smoked salmon (they called it salmon jerky) with a fish emulsion and caviar, before picking up speed with poached pigeon served with an apple and parsnip remoulade and beetroot foam. Neither of us had tasted pigeon before and O cooed through the entire dish. I was surprised by how unpoultry-like it was. It tasted like a very rare, soft red meat.

Next up was one of my favourites - a five minute bouillabaisse, served over a tartare of crayfish and buffalo milk skin, finished with aromatic herbs and caviar. The dish came in an elaborate glass percolator complete with a small gas burner. The broth bubbled up from a glass decanter into a funnel which contained herbs and aromatics. When the burner was turned off, the broth cooled back down into the decanter, taking with it the essence of the herbs in the funnel. The stock was then poured over the crayfish, magically dissolving the mozzarella di buffala before your eyes.

Pure drama. I loved it.

As you can see, I didn’t take any photos. This was pretty deliberate. There’s no way my fuzzy amateur photography could do justice to such incredible food!

Vue de Monde was kind enough to send me the menu that we ate on the night, which I’ve listed below. I have to say, the meal cost an absolute bomb, but every mouthful was worth it. Each dish was truly a work of art, and I did feel a little as though I was in the Louvre for food.

I am so fortunate to have been able to have had such an amazing experience, and of course, such a thoughtful husband to surprise me with it. Thanks O, I love you!

If you ever get the opportunity, just hang the expense and go! It’s an experience you will never forget.

Our 10-Course Menu Gourmand from Vue de Monde

SAUMON AUX EPICES
Salmon jerky with salted fish emulsion and Sterling caviar
NV Larmandier Bernier Terre de Vertus Blanc de Blanc Champagne, France

SALADE DE PIGEON
Pigeon, poached, with an apple and parsnip remoulade, beetroot foam
NV Romate Sanchez NPU Amontillado Jerez, Spain

BOUILLABAISSE
5 minute bouillabaisse, tartare of crayfish and buffalo milk skin, finished with aromatic herbs and caviar
2004 Domaine Marc Bredif, Vouvray Loire Valley, France

PAIN PERDU ACCOMPAGNE DE SON FOIE GRAS
French toast and foie gras flavoured with eight spice
2004 Vinoptima Gewurztraminer Reserve Gisborne, New Zealand

MORUE DE MURRAY
Murray cod gently cooked ‘en sous-vide’ with a ginger and spring onion sauce, flavoured with spring onion and crispy chicken skin
2004 Domaine Fontaine Gagnard Clos St Jean 1er Cru Chassagne Montrachet Burgundy, France

CONSOMME FROID A LA TOMATE
Delicate tomato consommé with gazpacho jelly

AGNEAU BRAISE
Slow cooked lamb belly with confit loin, lamb bacon and fresh split garden peas
2004 Domaine Pierre Amadieu La Paillousse, Grenache Blend, Châteauneuf du Pape Burgundy, France

SALADE DE COCHONAILLE
Salad of Kurobuta pork and black pudding with cider-marinated carrot ribbons, finished with emulsified pan juices
2002 Château de Chambert La Causse Malbec Cahors, France

FROMAGE
Roy de Vallées with marinated beetroot Pyrénées, France
2005 Vue de monde by T’Gallant Pinot Gris Mornington Peninsula, VIC

GATEAU DE RIZ A LA MANDARINE
Mandarin served with mandarin flavoured rice pudding and encased in sugar
1999 Freiherr Heyl Herrnsheim Nierstein Riesling Ausliese Rheinhessen, Germany

GELEE DE COINGS ET SON SABLE
Quince gel with a frozen quince air and sand flavoured with Great Barrier Reef salt
NV Chambers Old Vine Muscadelle Grand Tokay Rutherglen, VIC.

NOTRE SELECTION DE CAFES, THES, INFUSIONS ET PETITS-FOURS
A selection of coffee, teas, infusions and miniature teacakes

Years ago, I used to skip breakfast every morning. I don’t know why I did - not organised enough I guess. I stopped as soon as I realised that I was doing myself out of 30 per cent of the meals I was entitled to eat in my lifetime. There’s no way I’m going to pass on a legitimate excuse for a meal!

I guess that’s the problem with breakfast. Most people think it’s impossible to whip up something nutritious and tasty while also juggling a hairdryer, a pack of screaming children and a hot iron. I mean, I didn’t even have the screaming kids, and the only type of iron I ever encounter is the kind found in a spinach pie or a good slab of wagyu beef, and I still found it a challenge.

That was, until I discovered porridge.

Well, I guess I re-discovered it. My first foray into the wonderful world of porridge was led by my culinarily-challenged dad, who had an uncanny knack of making porridge closely resemble a bowl of two-week old wallpaper paste.

But I redicovered porridge through O, who loves a steaming hot bowl of porridge first thing in the morning.

Like all the best things in life, porridge is a dish best cooked slowly with lots of the bad things in life. Like full cream milk. And lashings of cream, like in an Enid Blyton story. However in the interests of my waistline, and to save on a few precious moments in the morning, I usually make mine with low fat milk and nuke it in the microwave for a few minutes.

Sacrilegious, I know.

The most important thing about cooking porridge is to get the oat/milk ratio right. Too much milk and the porridge is too runny and thin (like the porridge in the photo - I overdid it with the milk). Too little and it gets gluggy and, well, gross - like the way my dad used to make it. The best porridge consistency is enough milk to make it soft and creamy, with lots of comforting porridgey curds.

As for flavouring the porridge, nothing beats a sprinkle of cinnamon, a hint of nutmeg, a dusting of brown sugar and a banana. Unless of course it’s real Canadian maple syrup, as supplied by the lovely K & T.

I can understand why Goldilocks was willing to take on three bears to get a bowl of the good stuff.

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Vaguely relevant aside:

Even though I am largely politically ambivalent, for some reason I have always thought there was a striking resemblance between Alexander Downer (Australia’s Foreigh Minister) and a bowl of porridge with two raisins floating on top. What do you think?