My good friend Colin Devlin (who introduced me to Fiachna) is in Montreal recording an album, and I’m staying in his vacated flat. Colin bet me a hundred dollars that I wouldn’t survive the week on my self-styled diet. When I arrived at his flat, I discovered a chicken suit hanging in the bedroom with a note pinned to it. It read:

Dear Bob,

This suit is your end of the bargain. Fiachna will be happy to show you a fantastic time in Dublin. But if you cave in, you’ll have to wear this chicken suit for the duration of your stay.

Cheers,

Colin

PS: Please water the plants.

Day 1 (Monday)

Today Fiachna and I mucked about, had a couple of warm-up pints, then headed down to The Purdy, one of Dublin’s many gastropubs, for a fabulous last supper. Like a man on death row sitting down to his last meal, I ordered oysters (accompanied by Chablis), tagliatelle carbonara (accompanied by a Borolo), sea bass on roasted vegetables, garlic fried potatoes and stir-fried veggies (with a full bottle of [white] Mercury from Burgundy) and a multitude of desserts – followed by Irish coffee, a shot of Bailey’s and a Blackbush Irish whiskey (on the house).

In a spontaneous show of solidarity (or drunken moment – you choose), Fiachna surprised me by announcing that he was going to join me on the diet. At the stroke of 6 pm the two of us ended the gluttony and officially embarked on our week-long Guinness diet. If all goes well, neither of us will have a morsel of solid food, or any liquid other than Guinness (or water), until 6pm on Friday.

We headed to Searson’s, “the local”, for a couple of pints before calling it a night.

Day 2 (Tuesday)

At about 9 am, I stumbled into the living room of Colin’s flat to discover two beautiful Irish girls sitting at the dining room table. One was salaciously juicing fresh oranges as the other set out a full-on Irish breakfast. A place had been set for me and all was offered up. While I was surveying the spread, Fiachna arrived and informed me that this was a regular monthly gathering. Even though it was too late to cancel it, he promised to persevere with his half of the deal. We cracked a couple cans of Guinness and watched the girls eat (and believe me, these Irish lassies put the girls from Los Angeles to shame when it comes to eating). The beer was surprisingly satisfying and the company almost made me forget what I was missing.

After our breakfast of champions, I visited a local doctor for a brief assessment. He was a bit shocked by my report on last night’s alcohol consumption (note to self: remember the 50 percent rule when responding to doctor’s questions about alcohol consumption), but after taking my vital stats, he pronounced me to be in fighting form.

Fiachna and I headed to an illustrious local pub to celebrate the positive prognosis. We had a pint while the camera crew ate a HUGE pub lunch in front of us. Afterwards, Fiachna headed to the studio to mix a track for an album he’s recording with the drummer of the Flowers and the original bass player of the Pogues (and Elvis Costello’s former wife). And I headed to another pub for a prearranged meeting with Father Brean.

I was seeking council in the art of avoiding temptation, and the good Father chose to dispense it while feasting on a delicious-looking plate of shepherd’s pie. Actually he was quite a hoot and gave me the best tip so far. His advice: to plug my nose when I was around aromatic food. I responded by sticking a napkin up each nostril, then sending our production assistant out for swimming nose plugs.

After bidding adieu to the man of the cloth, it was on to Fiachna’s studio to hear a few tracks. His band mates were both there – munching on a freshly delivered pizza.

As if that wasn’t enough temptation for one day, Fiachna insisted that we go to a party thrown by The Dubliner magazine to celebrate their “Top 100 Restaurants” issue. Naturally, the place was lousy with food, wine and chefs. We made a few friends, then headed off for one last pint.

The Daily Count:
Pints of Guinness: 7 (or 8 depending who was counting)
Water: at least a gallon
Pees: About 15.

Day 3 (Wednesday)

Another day of temptation and torture.

A beautifully presented plate of eggs Benedict greeted me as I opened my bedroom door this morning, but naturally it was no match for a cool pint of the brown stuff which I quaffed while reading the morning paper.

After a bit of e-mailing and general housekeeping, Fiachna took me to meet a chef friend of his at L’Ecrivian, one of Dublin’s only restaurants to earn a Michelin star. As is my nature, I ended up in the kitchen where Chef Derry showed off several of his Guinness-infused dishes. Seems as though he thought my “Guinness diet” included anything made with Guinness and he was eager to feed me. He must have anticipated my love of bacon, because just about everything from the oysters to the braised beef included it in one form or another. Frankly, it was his freshly-baked Irish soda bread that really made me weak at the knees. Chef Derry promised to pack me a box lunch for my flight on Saturday – if I last the week.

After the demo, I headed out for a pint on my own. When I came back to meet Fiachna at the restaurant, I discovered him chowing down on plate of quail and sipping an Italian red from a fish bowl-size wine glass. THE FUCKER had caved! Frankly I was impressed that the rocker had lasted this long. And after a brief brow beating, I commended him on pacing me for the first 42 hours. After Fiachna’s betrayal, I had to endure the crew moaning in delight over a stunning lunch that Chef Derry prepared.

From there we toured a few other pubs where I learned to “pull a pint” and met a few nice – albeit plastered – locals. Then after the crew stopped for a quick fry-up at the local chippy stand, Fiachna took me to a pub where he sat in on the penny flute with some traditional Irish musicians. Needless to say, a couple of pints were added to the mix.

In case you are wondering about my state of well-being, it has been a bit of a roller coaster ride. At the end of day two, I had developed a raging head ache. But it later dawned on me that it was probably due to what I wasn’t drinking – caffeine – then the all-day drinking or lack of food. I am finding myself vacillating from moments of euphoria to periods of grumpiness (yes, really!). And as I type this I’m feeling quite light-headed. So far, I’ve never felt drunk – just slightly buzzed for brief periods. And one other thing of note, I can’t turn around without seeing food or references to food everywhere I look.

The Daily Count:
Pints of Guinness: 8
Water: tons, but probably still not enough
Pees: I lost count after 20.

Day 4 (Thursday)

This morning’s offering in front of my bedroom door was a dessert plate sent over by Chef Derry. Needless to say, the double chocolate brownie, fig shooter and vanilla custard were no match for my “pint of plain” which I enjoyed at the local at 9:30 am.

After breakfast, Fiachna sent me to his hairdresser-to-the-stars for a Guinness shampoo. Wow, the man who touched Bono’s mane touched mine. Come to think of it, Bono doesn’t have much left these days.

The rest of the day was consumed (or not as the case was) with a visit to the grave of Arthur Guinness, the founder of Guinness. Arthur died in 1802, but his great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson, Patrick Guinness is still dining off the family name. Patrick, to be fair, was very cordial (in that upper crust, self-aggrandizing kind of way) and was happy to spin truths and a half-truths about the family history until Will mercifully called “cut”.

We wrapped early and I took in the Borat movie at a packed cinema. Despite the wafting popcorn aromas, it was a welcome distraction – and wickedly funny in a juvenile kind of way.

The hunger pains have subsided, as has (most of) the grumpiness, and I’m shocked at how much energy I have considered my limited caloric intake. That said, and despite the conventional wisdom that says the stomach shrinks, I do feel as though if I let my guard down for a second, I could do some serious damage to an all-you-can-eat buffet.

I am cautiously optimistic that I’ll make it to the finish line. However, my bravado is tempered by my fear that the entire crew is still determined to take me down – after all, they’ve had every culinary resource in Dublin at their fingertips. With only 18 hours to go, the proof, as they say, will be in the pudding.

The Daily Count:
Pints of Guinness: 5 (today was the Guinness diet diet!)
Water: who cares any more
Pees: let’s just say the soles of my shoes are wearing thin

Day 5 (Friday)

Nothing could have prepared me for the challenges that would face me today.

There was a note outside my door in the spot I’d come to expect my daily breakfast offering. It read “Townsend Street #2.” I dressed quickly, glanced at the chicken suit, then ran out of the flat and waived down a taxi. The cabbie deposited me in a scrappy part of town in front of a dubious looking pub called The Windjammer. When I entered I saw Fiachna sitting at the bar devouring a plate of poached eggs on mushrooms and toast. In fairness, he was accompanying his breakfast with a pint, so naturally I joined in. The Windjammer is an “early house.” Early houses, for the initiated, are pubs in Dublin that’re licensed to open at 7am in order to serve shift workers as they get off work in the early morning hours.

After we finished our respective breakfasts, Fiachna took me to the coast to see the James Joyce museum. It was cold, overcast and rainy. As we approached I noticed several swimmers braving the icy waters. I looked at the swimmers, then at Fiachna. Suddenly my mind scrolled back to a moment as we left the early house when the soundman took my microphone pack from me “to fix a loose connection.” The penny dropped just seconds before Fiachna dropped his trousers, revealing a pair of plaid swimming trunks. Coincidentally, he just happened to have an extra pair of shorts with him, and insisted that I join him. Before I could decline, he cannon-balled into the drink and I had no choice but to follow. The 40°F ocean waters would have been a shock to any system at the best of circumstances, but they were even more jarring to my weakened body. At the same time I must admit that the experience was quite invigorating. We scampered out onto the rocks shivering. There were no towels in sight, but Fiachna produced a steaming thermos of chicken soup and held the cup up to my nose. Weakened, but not yet broken, I took the soup and poured the whole lot over my head. Chicken soup never felt so good.

With the ruse up, we toweled off and headed to a pub for a quick warm-up pint. I can’t say that it warmed my body, but it certainly took the edge off the shock. From there, Fiachna brought me to one of Ireland’s finest cheese shops. Great cheeses of the world are one of my weaknesses and this shop had them all. I did my best to ignore the wafting aromas as Fiachna and the crew devoured a tasting. Our next stop was a specialty wine store around the corner. The owner had set out a luscious food and wine pairing for us and Fiachna dove in with the same wild abandon he had displayed at the sea side. Then he announced that I could pick any wine in the shop – as long as I opened it and had a glass. I looked around the well-stocked shop and eventually spotted the reserve case. Closing in on my prey, I discovered a 1985 Petrus – one of Bordeaux’s most legendary wines, and an excellent vintage. The price was 1,250 euros, well beyond the budget of my weenie cable show. It seemed like a toothless ploy until Will, my director (and the show’s true protagonist) whipped out his wallet and produced his credit card.

At this point it should be noted that Will and I have been traveling on the magical mystery tour we call Glutton for Punishment for the past six months. By now he’s well acquainted with my many weaknesses. Will’s as competitive and tenacious as I am (but in a much more Zen-like way). Usually he’s my staunchest supporter, but in this particular episode he took it as his personal mission to take me down. He also happens to LOVE wine and wanted to taste the Petrus as much as I did.

“Drink it now and I’ll pay for it,” he said.

He was dead serious.

It’s not often in one’s life that they have the opportunity to drink an ’85 Petrus. With less than two hours left, Will taunted me by saying that I could have my wine and drink it too, then only have to endure two (humiliating) hours in the chicken suit. It was painfully tempting, but I knew the finish of the wine would fade long before the stories of my demise.

Next up was a visit to the doctor who’d examined me earlier in the week. Despite his pronouncement that I was “slightly pale and tired looking,” I was feeling surprisingly spry. He quizzed me about the week and shook his head in disbelief at how much I’d consumed. According to his scale, I lost more than five pounds. The mild-mannered doctor was quite shocked (and dismayed) to find that all my vital signs were exactly the same as my first visit. (Note to Morgan Sperlock: choose your poison wisely). Moving in for the kill, I challenged him to an arm wrestle. I’m sure I detected a flicker of fear in his eyes as he politely declined.

With a renewed spring in my step, we moved on to the market bar where my victory dinner was set to take place. Even though there was less than an hour remaining until the 6 pm finish line, many details had yet to be arranged. Peter Devlin (our local production coordinator, and Colin’s brother) was dispatched to accompany me for a last pint. Six o’clock came and went. I got a hand shake – and another pint – from Peter, but at this point, all clocks were reset to television time which basically meant that I couldn’t have my first bite until we were ready to roll. 6:30…7…7:30…another pint…8. Finally Peter’s cell phone rang with word that everyone was ready. As we walked across the street to the restaurant, it began to dawn on me that I had actually survived all the physical challenges, temptations and hurdles of the Guinness diet.

Fiachna was waiting at the bar to greet me with a victory pint. He announced that the table was almost ready. We were to be joined by chef Darry, orange juice girl, his band mates, the Guinness barber and a few other sorted and assorted characters that we had encountered in our travels. Fiachna excused himself for a pee and I nursed my last pint, thinking about how long it would be before I would order another one on my own volition. Much to my pleasure, one of the most stunning woman I had seen all week sat down on the stool Fiachna had just vacated. Needless to say I had no intention of saying it was taken. Moments later, a curvaceous full-lipped-dark-haired beauty sat down on the vacant stool to my left. Apparently the two were friends and we immediately struck up a conversation. I could tell that the fair skinned girl was Irish and the dark haired girl seemed Spanish. The Irish maiden was plucking ripe strawberries from a bowl and dipping them in freshly whipped cream. Seeing the hunger in my eyes, she generously offered me a strawberry. In my slightly buzzed state, I tried to explain my predicament. This amused her, but she would have none of it. The two of them took it as some form of challenge complete the mission that the rest of Ireland had failed to at. I held my ground, which only made them more determined. Sensing my weakened state of willpower they both offered me a long slow kiss if I would just take one bite. Eyelashes fluttered, nostrils quivered and lips curled.

Would anyone really know…after all Fiachna was in the bathroom and…hey…just a minute…

Having survived the last temptation of a very, very long week. I was shepherded to the table where I joined the waiting group (and the two girls from the bar) for the final countdown. For the record, in real time it was 8:30 pm.

5-4-3-2-1!!!

After the big hurrah everyone was curious about how I intended to break my fast.

“What I would REALLY like is nice glass of red wine”, I replied, “but there’s something I want first,” then I grabbed a long slow kiss from the two girls – who it should be noted were a bit shocked by the unscripted moment.

Moral of the whole experience: With a little will power and perseverance, you can have your cake and eat it two.

The Daily Count:
Pints of Guinness: 8
Everything else is a blur

Saturday

As I type this, I’m 36,000 feet in the air, en route home to Los Angeles. Chef Derry over-delivered on his promise and I’m munching on a pheasant, tomato confit and Gubbeen cheese sandwich – just one of the many delicacies in my well-stocked lunch box. To heighten the pleasure, and make up for lost time, I’m washing it down with a full-bodied Spanish Rioja that the flight attendant brought me from First Class in trade for some of my fois gras. My week’s experience has made me even more appreciative of the things I’m fortunate to take for granted, and it’s a renewed pleasure to be able to describe food that I am actually eating.

Glutton for Punishment airs on the Food Network in the U.S. at 9:30pm Tuesdays. In other episodes Bob Blumer enters a chili pepper eating competition, a flair bartending competition, the New York City waiter’s race, and attempts to run the Medoc marathon while sampling all 23 wines along the route. ]]> 2007-09-13T15:06:00-08:00 http://www.winexmagazine.com/index.php/wine/vieweat/threesomes/ In the world of numerals, one is the loneliest number. Surreal_Gourmet In the world of numerals, one is the loneliest number. And things that come in twos are hopelessly conjugal: but groupings of three, as counterintuitive as it may seem, have a perfect symmetry. Like a triangle, they are seductively in balance. The three’s meanings are more than threefold. For starters there’s three strikes—the objective if you are a pitcher, something to avoid at all costs if you are an unrepentant felon living in the state of California. Then there are the endless triumvirates, like the Three Musketeers, the Three Stooges, the Three Blind Mice and the Three Little Pigs. Good luck and bad luck both travel in threes, the Holy Trinity makes the digit sacrosanct, and if you were granted three wishes, chances are you would use one to manifest a ménage à trios (streaming video may be sent to http://www.winexmagazine.com).

In the culinary world, three is also a magical number. Here’s where the harmonic convergence of flavors, textures and aromas can feed off one and other. Three wisely chosen ingredients can create taste sensations that truly are greater than the sum of their parts, yet less involved, less expensive and less time-consuming than infinitely more complicated dishes. And the best news is that with fewer ingredients and fewer steps, you’ll have more time for your love triangle. Now if that genie would just respond to your text messages.

Here is a succulent, sensuous, trilogy of foolproof three-ingredient recipes.

Cocktail Dates
(yields 12 bites)

In their unadorned state, Medjool dates are nicknamed “nature’s candy”. Stuff these babies with the nuttiness of Parmigiano-Reggiano, wrap them in the smoky saltiness of bacon, and bake them, and they will turn into molten balls of decadence that will explode in your mouth and blow your mind.

12 large dried Medjool dates
6 slices bacon, cut in half
4 oz. chunk Italian Parmigiano-Reggiano

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit

Slice date from top to bottom as deep as the pit. Pry open date and remove pit. Reserve dates.

Using your sharpest knife, cut Parmigiano-Reggiano into pieces that are just slightly larger than the pit you have just removed. Place cheese where the pit was and pinch the date around the cheese to seal.

Wrap each Parmigiano-stuffed date with a slice of bacon. Set dates on a baking sheet, seam-side down, and skewer with a toothpick to hold bacon in place.

Bake for approximately 20 minutes, or until bacon is crispy. Caution: Let cool for a few minutes before serving.

Maple Salmon Suckers
(yields 12 suckers)

This savory sucker comes with the Surreal Gourmet’s money back guarantee. If you are not completely satisfied, we’ll refund the purchase price and transfer an undisclosed sum from the estranged wife of a deported Nigerian business tycoon directly into your bank account. Simply forward us your banking details.

1 1/2 lbs. salmon fillet, preferably wild (select thickest fillet available)
3/4 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup soy sauce
2 T coarsely grated black pepper (I consider pepper a condiment rather than an ingredient. If you disagree, feel free to contact my attorney)

Slice salmon into 1/4-inch-thick strips.

Place salmon slices in a resealable plastic bag along with syrup and soy. Force out the air and seal. Marinate in the refrigerator for a minimum of 4 hours, but ideally for 24 hours.

At the same time, soak 12 bamboo skewers in water (resealable plastic bags work well for this task too).

Preheat grill or broiler to high heat.

Remove salmon from marinade and skewer from the wide end.

Place pepper on a small plate and dip one edge of the salmon in it.

Grill salmon on a well-oiled BBQ grate over direct heat, or directly under a broiler for 1 minute per side, or until just cooked throughout, yet still moist. Serve immediately, or suffer the consequence of the fish drying out.

Bee Stings
(yields 12 bites)

The pigs, cows, and bees have done all the heavy lifting, making this the least amount of effort you will ever have to expend for the greatest amount of accolades.

1/4 cup best-available honey
1/2 T white truffle oil
6 oz. block Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

In a small bowl, combine honey, truffle oil, and pepper. Reserve.

Just before serving, use a paring knife to chisel cheese into irregular 1/2-inch nuggets. Drizzle truffled honey over each nugget. For added savoryness, finish with freshly ground black pepper

(To get the most Parmigiano-Reggiano for your buck, look for rindless center cuts. For the freshest Parmigiano-Reggiano, purchase from stores that move a lot of it.)

]]> 2007-08-05T15:05:00-08:00 http://www.winexmagazine.com/index.php/wine/vieweat/big-fish-story/ Despite my best artistic efforts, my sushi came out looking like some kid had run it over with his bike. Entertaining

My name is Tina, and I'm a sushiholic. My addiction started innocently enough, through a college job waiting tables at a Japanese restaurant. That's when I had my first sushi buzz. I'm not sure if it was the gorgeous presentation, the sinus-clearing rush of the green horseradish or the sublime flavor of raw fish that sucked me in. Whatever it was, I was hooked. My obsession didn't stop with this one restaurant. I worked at three more sushi bars after college, while in pursuit of the perfect fix. But even that wasn't enough. I had to learn how to make my own sushi, ending my dependence on Japanese restaurant chefs forever! I began my sushi-making quest by picking up a bamboo rolling mat and an assortment of sushi fixin's at a Japanese market in San Francisco. Finding a recipe for sushi rice was a bit challenging, but I eventually managed to dig one up in a Japanese cookbook. Over the next year or so I tried making sushi exactly twice -- with disastrous results. Suffice it to say, my sushi wouldn't have looked much different if I'd made it with my foot. I decided it was time for professional help. Not in the form of a shrink, but rather a two-hour sushi workshop offered by a nearby cooking school. I happily forked over 70 bucks for the class, certain I'd learn some secret technique that would transform my homemade sushi creations from frumpy fish wads to exquisite culinary works of art. The workshop was held in a smallish room above an upscale kitchen store, outfitted with professional cooking equipment and mirrors above the food prep counter for easy viewing. I took a seat at one of the large round tables scattered around the room and eyed the magical sushi implements set on a plastic cafeteria lunch tray before me: a bamboo rolling mat, sheets of dried seaweed of various sizes, and plastic ramekins filled with crab and pickled ginger. In the center of the table, a communal plate of sliced avocados, Japanese radishes and cucumbers beckoned. Soon, I'd be able to make sushi at home whenever the urge struck -- I could sit in front of the TV nightly, munching tekka maki like it was popcorn! My fantasy was soon interrupted when the instructor appeared to reveal the secrets of proper ricemaking and sushi assembly. After about an hour of cooking-show-style demonstration, she set a plate of raw fish and a large bowl of rice on each table. Elbow to elbow with my fellow students, I set to work trying to emulate the beautifully prepared sushi on the sample dish at the front of the room. Fat chance, brother. Despite my best artistic efforts, my sushi came out looking like some kid had run it over with his bike. The rolls practically exploded as I cut them; my unagi lay flacidly on its bed of rice like a lopsided toupee; my futomaki spilled its guts onto the table like a disgraced samurai committing hara kiri. After trying in vain to detach the sticky sushi rice from my forearms, shoulders and face, I surveyed the room. To my great relief I was not the only aspiring home sushi chef with mutilated maguro. Some people's sushi looked even worse than mine!

I can't hold Thai food entirely responsible for making me uproot my life and move halfway around the world to Sydney, Australia. But it did play a role. In Sydney, incredible Thai restaurants are as ubiquitous (and about as affordable) as burrito joints in San Francisco. But no matter how authentic the cooking, it's hard to beat paying 20 baht (about 50 cents) at a bustling Bangkok market for curry that's bursting with tangy lime; tempered by the salt of fish sauce and the caramel of palm sugar; and followed, ideally, by a bold aftershock of chili. I decided a long time ago that if I couldn't eat out that way every day, the next best thing was knowing how to make it. Having cooked up many a dish of Tom Khai Kai, Mee Khrob, and Massaman Curry, I thought I was pretty well versed in the cuisine for a Western chef. But it wasn't until a culinary tour of Thailand, including an amazing cooking course in Chiang Mai, that I really felt like I "got it." Whether fiery hot or comparatively mild, when it comes to Thai, harmony's the guiding principle. Overpowering spices are toned down by pungent fresh herbs, like lemongrass and galangal. Salty sauces are tempered with sugars and offset by acids, such as lime. Moreover, rather than being served in courses, a Thai meal is presented all at once, so diners can enjoy the juxtaposition of contrasting flavors. Yet despite the apparent complexity of Thai food, many dishes are surprisingly easy to concoct. Much of the art lies more in the prep work than in employing tricky techniques. In fact, you'll often find that having the ingredients lined up and ready to go is half the battle. Of course you can just go to a restaurant or buy ready-made curry pastes and sauces, but trust me, Thai is almost certainly easier to master than you realize. And if you can't afford to travel, cooking this marvelous cuisine is the next best thing to a trip to Thailand. Or Sydney. Wine & Thai Food When choosing a wine to accompany a Thai meal, the same thought should be given to equilibrium as it is in cooking Thai. Riesling and pinot noir are probably your two best bets for spicy hot dishes: a good rule of thumb being that the spicier the food, the sweeter the wine. For example, pair a slightly dry number with a tangy but mild lemongrass and coconut chicken soup. But use a more sugary vintage to tone down the fire of a curry. The German Auslese style rieslings are excellent and reasonably priced. Two U.S. producers, Bonny Doon (whose Pacific Rim is marketed to serve with Asian cuisine) and Hogue, both make good, affordable rieslings. As for pinots, their delicate flavors, which can be smothered by heavy steak or barbecue, are enhanced by hot and spicy food. Remember that spicy food exaggerates the tannin and natural bitterness in wine. The addition of salt and sour flavors will help counteract this effect, as they make the wine milder, fruitier and less bitter. Thus, if you're drinking a merlot or cabernet sauvignon with duck in red curry, the addition of fish sauce to the curry - or salt to the duck - will help counteract the chilies. Similarly, the addition of lime juice to a green mango salad will offset the spiciness and pair nicely with a sauvignon blanc/semillon blend. For a moderately spicy, ginger-rich dish, a good gewurztraminer makes an excellent contrast. Another thing to consider is the method of food preparation. Generally speaking, grilled or pan-roasted foods will be better matches with your wines than those that are deep-fried. For example, Kai Yang (chicken marinated in garlic, pepper and lemongrass, and then grilled) is delicious with a crisp white wine or a fruity red. Tips and Tricks Never cut kaffir lime leaves, as too much oil will come off on the knife and diminish the strength of the flavor. Tear them gently instead. When kaffir zest is unavailable, substitute lemon peel rather than lime, as the latter is too bitter. Ginger, in smaller quantities, can be used as a substitute for galangal (also known as ginza or laos powder). When making large quantities of curry paste to store in the fridge or freezer, it's best to fry it first in oil, and then store both the oil and the paste. This helps retain better color and flavor. Dried chilies provide a better color in paste than fresh ones. Always add lime juice after the heat has been turned off. Mung beans should be stored in salt, not water, to keep them crunchy. Don't fry garlic and shallots together, as the garlic will cook quicker and turn brown. Shallots soaked in water for 10 minutes won't make you cry when cutting them. Use a tablespoon of coconut milk as a garnish for curries to provide an attractive color contrast. To separate coconut cream from milk, refrigerate it for 10 minutes, then skim off the top. Milk, cucumber or tomato will stop the burning sensation from chilies; water will amplify it. When stir-frying, always preheat your wok at least five minutes, until it's smoking hot. Add your oil and wait 10 seconds before beginning to add meat and vegetables.

SEE KRONG TORD GRATIUM (Fried Spare Ribs with Garlic) (serves 4) Although Thai people eschew appetizers in favor of eating a variety of dishes all at once (proving yet again that it's the harmony of opposing forces that define this cuisine), for us Western cheats, this makes a great appetizer that can serve as a prelude to a wide range of main courses. 4 cups pork spareribs cut into 1-inch pieces Enough oil to deep fry 3 cups chicken stock or water 1/2 cup oil 1/2 cup chopped garlic with skin on SAUCE 1/2 cup chopped garlic 1/4 cup roughly chopped coriander root and stem 1 t crushed white peppercorns 2 T oyster sauce 1 T light soy sauce* 1 T soy sauce 1/4 t sweet soy sauce *You can easily cheat and just use 2 tablespoons of regular soy sauce. But try to get the sweet soy. In a pinch, just add a little palm or brown sugar instead. Mix the spareribs together with all sauce ingredients, then put them in a pan along with the stock. Simmer 20 minutes. Drain the stock, and set the ribs aside. Put 1/2 cup oil into a wok. When it's hot, add the unpeeled garlic, and cook on high heat until the garlic starts to turn brown. Lower the heat, and keep stirring until the garlic is crispy (about 2-3 minutes). Drain the oil, and put the garlic on some kitchen paper. Put the oil for deep frying into a wok. When it's hot, fry the spareribs until golden brown (4-5 minutes), then drain. To serve, put the ribs on a plate, and sprinkle with garlic.

GAI HOR BAI TOEY (Chicken in Pandanus Leaves) (serves 4) If you can't get pandanus leaves or don't want to fry the chicken, this dish is also excellent when the marinated chicken is baked, covered, for about 30 minutes. If you do use leaves, be sure to remove them before serving, as they aren't edible. 1 cup chicken breast cut into 20 equal-sized pieces 20 pandanus leaves 4 T roasted sesame seeds 1 t ground black pepper 1 cup of oil SAUCE 1 T light soy sauce 1 T tapioca flour 1 T sesame oil Put chicken in a bowl, add sauce ingredients and mix well. Marinate at least 10 minutes. Then add the sesame seeds and pepper, and mix well. Wrap each piece of chicken in a pandanus leaf, cutting off the ends if too long. The chicken can be stored in the refrigerator until ready to fry. Put oil into pre-heated wok, and turn to medium heat. When oil is hot, add chicken pieces, frying until cooked through - about five minutes. Drain on kitchen paper and serve immediately (ideally with a sweet chili dipping sauce). NAM JIM GAI (Sweet Chili Dipping Sauce) (serves 4) This sauce makes a fantastic accompaniment to most Thai dishes and is added like salt and pepper. Once cooked this can be stored in a bottle for about one month at room temperature. 3/4 cup finely chopped coriander root 5 cups chopped pickled garlic 7 finely chopped big, red chilies 3 1/2 cups sugar 2 cups white radish, cut into thin strips 1 1/2 cups vinegar 1/4 t salt Put all ingredients into a pan, and simmer on low heat about 20 minutes, until sauce is thick. Stir occasionally. Recipes adapted from A Passion For Thai Cooking by Sompon and Elizabeth Nabnian.

]]> 2007-01-01T13:52:00-08:00 http://www.winexmagazine.com/index.php/wine/vieweat/receiving-good-gift/ Is it just my ungratefulness or does everybody find it excruciatingly frustrating to receive expensive and useless things when there's a long list of basic necessities that they, well, need? Surreal_Gourmet

Is it just my ungratefulness or does everybody find it excruciatingly frustrating to receive expensive and useless things when there's a long list of basic necessities that they, well, need?

With the season of giving quickly approaching, it's the perfect time to lure your friends and family out of their familiar patterns and into the giving of spirits. But, to lead these gift horses to water, one must first identify the reasons why well-intentioned people give lame presents:

1 They don't know what you like.
2 They were in a hurry, and couldn't find what you like.
3 They think plaid cartegan sweaters are always in fashion.
4 They're under the mistaken impression that you're difficult to buy for.
5 They saw something similar in your place and assumed you liked whatever it is. (A classic case of compounding misfortune perpetuated by a sense of obligation to display other useless gifts you've been given).
6 They have trailer park taste.

In order to get what you want, one must first condition the givers. This is easier than it may seem because givers are usually eager to please -- they just don't always have the good sense to recognize the glaring solution to their gift-giving dilemma. Here's how to help them help you:

1 Keep a running list of things you want or need. Think of the things you would buy yourself if you found a twenty, fifty or a hundred dollar bill on the ground. Every once in a while you luck out and get asked what you'd like. Be prepared, and be specific. There's no such thing as too specific -- size, store and even stock numbers help reduce guesswork.

2 Become unabashedly obsessed with a particular store (i.e., Williams Sonoma, Ikea, etc.), then endear yourself to someone on the sales staff so you can discretely exchange gifts without a receipt.

3 Develop a reputation (or perpetuate the myth) of being an aficionado or collector of something that's relatively easy to find. Wine and food lovers are already one step ahead of the game. You can never have too much fine wine or extra virgin olive oil, or too many cookbooks. Prominently display your cache, or create a shrine from the empty bottles to act as a constant reminder to potential gift givers. And once again, be specific about your tastes (e.g., Bordeaux from the St. Emillion region). If the giver is a militant teetotaler, embrace another collectible. Just be careful not to be perceived as fanatical about something that is too general (i.e., golf or cows) or you may open up a Pandora's box of useless novelty gifts. As part of the conditioning process, be expressive when receiving gifts you like (think: The Price Is Right), and restate your appreciation like a mantra each time you speak to the giver -- "I made a salad dressing last night with your olive oil, and it rocked my world."

After you graduate from this simple three-step program, you'll discover you can always get what you want. In fact, you just might find that you get a lot of it. Be sure, however, to let me know when you have too much Burgundy wine. ]]> 2006-12-11T20:15:00-08:00 http://www.winexmagazine.com/index.php/wine/vieweat/cooking-for-6-to-12-people/ Visualization and pre-planning are the keys to a smooth flowing and disaster-free evening. Surreal_Gourmet

menu selection . Visualization and pre-planning are the keys to a smooth flowing and disaster-free evening. Begin buy selection a set of recipes with which you feel comfortable. When creating a complete menu, mix recipes that can be fixed in advance with those that need to be prepared or finished during the party.

A few days ahead of the dinner, spend a half hour during your commute to work (or whenever your mind tends to take a cat nap) and focus on the number of guests, the food, the cooking facilities, and the working space in which you will be cooking. Picture yourself preparing the dishes you intend to make and serving them in the manner you have chosen. If the act of visualizing the preceding steps causes butterflies in your stomach, select alternative recipes, simplify the menu, and/or plan to do more of the cooking in advance.

If you are a certified dinner party phobic attempting to overcome your anxieties, select a recipe that can be prepared earlier in the day, i.e., a curry, and serve it with a simple salad of baby greens. Buy a finger food and a dessert or, more simply still, ask two guests to bring them. In so doing, you can put the mental block of food preparation behind you and focus on the deep-rooted source of your phobia.

pre-production . It's not always possible, and never crucial, to prepare all of the food during the last 90 minutes before your guests arrive, or in their presence. Most of my recipes can be prepared, at least partially, one day in advance. The flavors of some foods, such as soups and curries, actually improve after sitting for a day. Other foods can be prepared in advance and frozen -- although I confess to having little experience in this area because the freezer section in my aesthetically pleasing fifties refrigerator functions exclusively as a frost factory.

The corollary to food improving with time is that some foods lose their zest if prepared too far in advance. Before serving any food, taste it. If necessary, "refresh" it with salt, pepper, lemon and/or a generous portion of the same herbs that were used originally to flavor the dish.

sizing the servings . Unless you have specifically asked how hungry individual guests are, it is desirable to make all portions equal. The first phase of portion control takes place when shopping for ingredients. Sometimes a little hardball may be required. For example, if you were to request twelve 1-inch-thick salmon steaks from your local fishmonger, he would probably cut them from a single salmon. Unfortunately, the cut from the middle of the fish can be twice as wide as the cuts nearest the head or tail. There's always almost another salmon "in the back" and you must stand your ground to get what you need. After all, you are the customer and, per the retail credo, that makes you always right.

To avoid running out of food, prepare a little extra -- even at the expense of having leftovers. When planning for casual parties where additional guests may drop by, or arrive in tow with your invited guests, it's always wise to prepare extra portions of the main dish. At least be sure to have lots of something i.e., salad, bread, veggies, etc.

If you are assembling plates for a seated affair, don't let any plate out of the kitchen until you are certain that you have enough of everything to complete the remaining dishes.

timing is everything . Having settled on a menu and decided which items to cook in advance, slide back into the visualization mode for a moment and imagine that it's 15 minutes before showtime. Will everything be ready at the same time? Are the garnishes prepped? Did you put the rise on?

Return to the present and create a "critical path" by establishing the sequence in which each dish needs to be started, refreshed or reheated. When in doubt, scribble out a running order and stick it on the refrigerator.

When showtime arrives, wait until the last minute to put the finishing touch on delicate foods. As a rule, begin steering your guests toward the dinner table before tossing the salad, adding shrimp to a sauce or steaming vegetables.

the accelerated assembly line . Assembling a large number of plates quickly is a challenge for professional chefs and amateurs alike. Before you begin, think about how you would like the food to look on the plate and how the colors, shapes and textures will interact. Create a blueprint in your mind and plan to assemble each plate identically. Then:

Wipe any drippings from around the edge of the plates with a clean dish towel and check that garnishes are in place before allowing each dish to leave the kitchen.

space oddity . Oven space, counter space and refrigerator space are valuable commodities when cooking for large groups -- and another reason to keep the menu simple. A shortage of counter space is the most common hindrance in a small kitchen. Sometimes a little ingenuity is required to convert dead space into a functional prepping area. Cover the sink with a cutting board, turn a cookie sheet upside down and place it over the stove's burners (heat off, please) and clear the decks of any appliances or items that are not required for the meal, i.e., the juicer, toaster, bread maker, coffee maker, coffee grinder, kettle, cookie jar, popcorn maker -- I think you get the picture.

the grill drill . The advent and popularity of propane gas grills has significantly reduced the inconvenience factor of grilling. If you are using propane, refill your tank before the party and/or keep a spare tank -- a party is a bad time to discover the gas gauge is broken.

I still swear by real hardwood charcoal (often available only in mesquite), which I believes provides the best grill flavor. This may stem from my difficulty in conceptualizing how petrified lava rocks can duplicate the smoky flavor of natural wood.

When grilling with real charcoal, light your coals 30 minutes in advance. Extra charcoal may be required to keep the fire burning, but it beats fighting to get the coals lit while you're famished dinner guests cheer you on. Never use starter fluids to light your coals. They make food taste like a gas rag, not to mention being one of the worst known air polluters. Use crumpled newspaper, ideally in combination with the very politically correct starter chimney.

Whether you have chosen gas or charcoal, beware that grilling for 6 to 12 people can require a surprisingly large area of grill space -- especially if you have chosen to accompany the entree with grilled veggies. Be prepared to grill your food in shifts, or borrow a second grill so that all of the food can be cooked at once.

help! i need somebody . Once your guest list hits the double digits, the sheer volume of people becomes an impediment to merely "winging it." In most cases, guests will be willing to lend a hand or even arrive early to help, though occasionally circumstances may make this inappropriate or undesirable. In these cases, you might consider outside help. Help comes in the following flavors: bartender, sous-chef or general kitchen assistance. Consult a friend who uses help, check the Yellow Pages or hire the kid next door.

Hiring one person to assist with the prep, cooking and cleanup can make the difference between enjoying yourself and feeling like the "help" at your own party.

if you can't stand the heat... . Throwing a dinner party is supposed to be one of life's little pleasures. But there is work involved. Hard work. Even the most enjoyable parties have their trying moments. Compose your own cooking mantra and repeat it to yourself with Buddhist fervor whenever the inevitable disaster rears its ugly head. Not only will this save you untold aggravation, but it will start you down the path toward an understanding of the true Zen of cooking. ]]> 2006-11-14T18:38:00-08:00 http://www.winexmagazine.com/index.php/wine/vieweat/seizure-salad/ Twenty years, hundreds of salads and several truckloads of romaine lettuce later, I've fine-tuned the ingredients and learned to articulate the nuances that'll make or break a Caesar. Surreal_Gourmet

(a salad to die for)

Scott Wilson, a practical-joking, golf-loving college buddy of mine, was an unlikely cooking teacher. Scott had no apparent interest in the culinary arts. He was, however, putting himself through business school by preparing Caesar salads tableside at a swish restaurant. One Saturday, in my quest to live beyond my means and impress a dinner date, I woke him up at two in the afternoon and begged for a tutorial. The heady aroma, pungent dressing and built-in theatrics had hooked me instantly. Twenty years, hundreds of salads and several truckloads of romaine lettuce later, I've fine-tuned the ingredients and learned to articulate the nuances that'll make or break a Caesar.

I'm so obsessed with the ritual that I carry my well-worn salad bowl with me in a snare drum case when I take my show on the road. Pool sharks travel with their own cues; the concept is the same (and it doesn't hurt that flight attendants mistake me for a drummer).

Most Caesar aficionados know where to find the best salad and are usually willing to trek miles across town to satisfy their craving. But few ever attempt to make one from scratch. Contrary to what anyone in a chef's hat might want you to believe, there are no secret ingredients or difficult techniques.

However, a quintessential Caesar requires the harmonic convergence of several high-quality ingredients and some focus. In order to demystify the process, and make you the mac daddy of garlicky greens, I've isolated the most essential components.

Since the recipe was published in my first book, The Surreal Gourmet: real food for pretend chefs, I've received dozens of letters from readers who've mastered the dressing and been deified by their friends. The ultimate compliment came from a waitress in Toronto who took me aside and whispered, "Every time I make your Caesar salad for a date, I get laid." I should be so lucky.

1) the bowl
Most restaurants, and many home cooks, commit their first faux pas by selecting the wrong tool for the job. By using a blender or food processor to mix the dressing, they whip the yolk, giving the dressing an undesirable mayonnaise-like texture. The definitive salad begins with a large unfinished wooden bowl (i.e., not coated with a shiny lacquer). The rough interior wall of the bowl provides the perfect surface for blending ingredients. The best bowls are usually bored out of one solid slab of Vermont maple. (Martha would probably chop down the tree and chisel it out herself. But we have better ways to spend our time.)

2) the grind
Once the aforementioned bowl's in hand, facilitating the successful marriage of the ingredients becomes an intensely physical activity worthy of Olympic designation. Use the back of a soup spoon and a healthy amount of pressure to grind the ingredients one at a time in a repetitive circular motion against the entire interior wall of the bowl. It should take approximately 20 seconds for each new ingredient to blend with the existing ingredients and form a smooth paste.

3) the garlic
Accept no substitute. Use only fresh garlic. When buying garlic, look for a firm bulb. As it gets older and moves past its prime, the bulb loses firmness and green sprouts appear in each clove. At all costs, avoid dried, powdered garlic, the runt of the garlic family. And be wary of elephant garlic, a much blander version of the regular-size bulb.

4) the lettuce
Pret-a-manger designer salad greens may be gracing fashionable plates everywhere, but Romaine remains the accessory of choice for Caesars because it wears the heavy dressing so well. If you must substitute, use another hearty lettuce. After washing the lettuce, use a lettuce spinner or towel to remove all water. For maximum crispness, return the lettuce to the refrigerator until just before serving. If you're preparing the lettuce several hours in advance, you can avoid browning edges by cutting the leaves with a sharp knife instead of tearing them.

5) the cheese
This is probably the single most important element of a great Caesar. Imported Italian Parmigiano-Reggiano is produced exclusively in a small region of northern Italy. Its distinctive taste and grainy texture are unmistakable. Cheesemakers from this region adhere to a stringent code of rules regarding what the cows are fed and how long the cheese is aged (at least two years). A food writer at The Los Angeles Times wrote, "Once you get a taste of the real stuff -- crumbly, earthy and rich as wine -- there's no turning back: Everything else is sawdust." After you've added Parmigiano-Reggiano to your cooking repertoire, you'll be forced to adopt guerilla defense tactics to protect the ungrated cheese. Roaming dinner guests tend to circle the wedge like hungry sharks and will devour it the second you turn to spin-dry the lettuce.

6) the anchovy
Don't be intimidated by the sight and taste of anchovies. When blended along with the other ingredients into a paste, the distinctive anchovy taste is unidentifiable. So why use it? Because along with the garlic and Dijon mustard, the anchovy provides the essence of the Caesar dressing, which all of the remaining ingredients serve to enhance. Modern technology has graced us with fish in a tube. Anchovy paste blends well and provides the perfect solution to the old problem of using one anchovy and tossing out the rest of the school.

7) the croutons
Nothing's more anticlimactic than topping a finely tuned Caesar with store-bought croutons that were destined for turkey stuffing. Homemade croutons, cut from any leftover thickly sliced bread, are the hidden jewels of the salad (see recipe below). "Gourmet-style" croutons made by cottage industry suppliers are a suitable replacement if you have more money than time.

8) the legacy
A great Caesar salad should knock you off your chair, then smack you again as you struggle to regain your senses. I can appreciate the fact that not everyone likes to wrestle with a salad, but that's why man created bottled dressing. If you elect to leave out the garlic or use the ingredients sparingly, please don't let anyone know it's my recipe.

---

Croutons (enough to top one salad) 3 thick slices of slightly stale sourdough or rustic country-style bread cut into 3/4-inch cubes 3 T olive oil 1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. 2) Place bread cubes in a large bowl and add olive oil. Toss and squish the bread like a sponge until the oil is evenly absorbed. 3) Place croutons on a baking sheet or aluminum foil and bake in the oven for 20 minutes, or until golden brown. Try not to forget about them in the oven as I often do.

Seizure Salad (Serves 6) 1/4 t salt 1 t coarsely ground black pepper 3 garlic cloves, minced 2 anchovies (or 1 t anchovy paste) 2 t Dijon mustard (the real stuff, not the dried stuff) 1 egg yolk, coddled* 1 1/2 T freshly squeezed lemon juice 1 t Worcestershire sauce 1/4 cup safflower oil, or olive oil 1 1/2 t red wine vinegar 1 large head romaine lettuce, outer leaves discarded, remaining leaves washed and thoroughly dried. If lettuce looks anorexic or is in need of a serious trim, buy two heads 1 1/2 cups croutons (see recipe that follows) 1/2 cup grated imported Italian Parmegiano-Reggiano * When I cook for others, the fear of a class-action lawsuit drives me to coddle. Place the eggs, in their shell, in boiling water 40 seconds. Remove, run under cold water 15 seconds to stop the cooking process, then use as directed. 1) Add salt and pepper to the salad bowl (this creates a sandpaper-like base that'll make the next steps easier). Using the back of a soup spoon, grind garlic against the wall of the bowl until it becomes a paste. Then add anchovies, and once again use the back of the spoon to grind it into a paste. Follow the same procedure, adding the Dijon, egg yolk, lemon juice and Worcestershire sauce one at a time. Make sure that each ingredient is blended into a smooth paste with the previous ingredients before proceeding. 2) Add oil and vinegar. Blend well. 3) Tear or slice lettuce leaves into bite-sized pieces and add to the salad bowl. Toss thoroughly with dressing. 4) Add croutons and cheese, toss again, then serve immediately. Notes: If you don't have a rough wooden salad bowl, the dressing can be made (with some sacrifice) in a blender. Add salt, pepper, garlic, anchovies, Dijon, lemon juice, Worcestershire and vinegar. Purée. Then add the oil and pulse a few times. Add egg yolk and pulse a couple more times - just enough to blend it without causing the dressing to turn mayonnaisey. The lettuce leaves should be coated, but not soaked, in dressing. Adjust the amount of dressing as necessary to keep salad from becoming too "wet."

]]> 2006-10-23T17:48:00-08:00 http://www.winexmagazine.com/index.php/wine/vieweat/slow-food/ Take your time, think a lot, pour yourself a glass and enjoy a dose of slow food cooking by our very own superchef Toby Puttock. Wine_and_Food

Take your time, think a lot, pour yourself a glass and enjoy a dose of slow food cooking by our very own superchef Toby Puttock.

"Slow food to me is the whole deal; a morning's work just to eat lunch, shopping for the vital ingredient, long preparation times, perhaps a glass of wine and a chat whilst preparing the mise en place. Most importantly a whole lot of love goes into the making of the meal. With this, I consulted one of my best mates' Cordell Khoury, who also happens to be my partner in the kitchen at Termini. He suggested we make a day of it at his family's beach house. We packed up the car and hit the coast for an extensive cook'n'chat session. And this was the result. Three dishes, six hours of preparation, eating, drinking, going off, all peppered with a heap of fun. Enjoy."

Risotto Milanese

This risotto is the signature risotto of Milan (hence the name). The main ingredient is saffron which belongs to the lily family and grows only to about 15cm high. True saffron, has purple flowers. The first reference to saffron cultivation dates back to 2300 BC. Its origins are most probably Greece or Asia Minor where forms of the spice are known in the wild state.

What you need
(serves four)

350g of vialone nano rice
15g of onion
900g of stock
50g of white wine
1g of saffron
80g of butter
50g of parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper

What to do
In a large and low casserole pot, saute the onion in a little butter. When the onion starts to become transparent, add the rice, stirring constantly, until it too starts to become transparent. At this stage moisten with the sauvignon and boiling stock until the rice is covered. When necessary add some stock. After around 10 minutes (when the rice is al dente) remove the pot from the heat and stir in the parmesan, butter and season to taste. At this stage I always put a lid on the pot, which causes the rice to swell up with the steam trapped inside the pot. Serve immediately.

If you really want to get authentic, ask your butcher for some bone marrow. About 10 minutes before the rice is ready place the marrow on a metal tray and into the oven, where it'll turn brown. At this stage the marrow should pop out from the bone. Now just place the marrow on top of the finished risotto and serve.

Pork Shoulder, Porcini and Lemon Farce with Chateau Potatoes

This is a mish-mash of different dishes I've learnt in my different cooking experiences. The pork is a variation of a dish I once made in London at the River Cafe, the potatoes I learnt at school during my training and the sauce is the result of the whole dish. It's a classic roast -- Sunday lunch style.

What you need
(serves four)

1kg of pork shoulder
20 slices of copa (or prosciutto)
250g of dried porcini (fresh if available, but then you will need closer to 400g)
1 lemon
1 bunch of thyme
100g of prosciutto fat
2 cloves of garlic
2 medium potatoes

What to do
Place the dried porcini in a bowl covered with warm water. With a sharp knife, butterfly the shoulder of pork. Dice the whole lemon and prosciutto fat into small pieces and blitz along with 150g of the porcini. This should give you a creamy consistency. Using a palette knife smear this farce or stuffing over one side of the pork. Season well.

Lay out your copa (or prosciutto) in a large adjoining square and place the filled pork in the centre. Roll the pork in the copa so that it's totally encased. With some butcher's string truss the wrapped pork so that the copa doesn't fall off during cooking. Seal the encased pork in a frying pan with a little oil and then place on a baking tray covered with foil and cook in a pre-heated oven on 200 degrees celsius for around 40 minutes.

Meanwhile peel and slice each potato lengthways into four pieces. With a small knife turn each potato so it has seven sides and looks like a barrel. Place in a small pot with cold water and bring to the boil. Test if they're cooked by sticking a small knife in them and once they are, brown the potatoes in frying pan with a little butter. When the pork is ready, remove the string and slice about one centimetre thick. Serve immediately with the potatoes, the excess porcini and a little of the porcini juice.

Bread and Butter Pudding

Never underestimate the old bread and butter pudding. This dish is a regular at Termini, although Cordell always replaces the bread with croissant. It's addictive, simple and the perfect way to really bloat yourself after a huge meal.

What you need
(serves four)

2 croissants
2 T of sultanas
Strawberry jam
Creme anglaise
50g of butter and extra for greasing the moulds

What to do
Gently break the croissant in half and spread it with butter and strawberry jam. Butter a couple of souffle moulds and break the croissant into pieces that will fit into the moulds. Layer a piece of croissant with a sprinkling of sultanas. Repeat this process until the moulds are full. Finally, pour the creme anglaise over the top. Place the filled moulds on to a baking tray and into the oven at 200 degrees celsius until the tops are browned. Run a small knife around the outside of the moulds to remove the puddings. Serve in a bowl with more warm creme anglaise, or my favourite, vanilla ice-cream.

For a dose of Toby in the kitchen, book yourself a seat at Termini in Fitzroy Street in St Kilda, 03-9537-3465. ]]> 2006-09-12T19:15:00-08:00 http://www.winexmagazine.com/index.php/wine/vieweat/oil-slick/ Overview of buying, storing and tasting olive oil. Wine_and_Food

images by Suzi Q. Varin

BUYING AND STORING OLIVE OIL
Choose containers that keep out light: dark glass, ceramic, even metal. With pricey oils, taste before you buy, and look for seal-of-approval initials such as DOP (Italy), DO (Spain) or COOC (California). Keep your oil tightly sealed; store it in a cool, dark place; and use it within two years (some say 18 months) of harvest, or one year after opening. Oh, and that plastic Jug O’ Oil from the C word? Don’t go there. There’s inexpensive, and then there’s swill.

WHAT’S YA FLAVA?
Fruity, peppery, buttery, appley, grassy, herbal, nutty? You’d think you were talking about wine. There’s actually similar flavor chemistry going on in olive oil and wine. Early-harvest olive oils taste greener and more pungent, like an herbaceous sauv blanc. The longer the hang time, the riper the fruit, the smoother the mouthfeel, the mellower the flavors. Late-harvest oils come across more like a full-tilt chard. Both can be great; it’s just a matter of what you like and how you plan to use it. (Uh, you are gonna use it, right? You want to decorate your kitchen counter, buy a bonsai.)

GOT AN EXTRA VIRGIN?
The terms “virgin” and “extra virgin” really are more than just sexy sounding hype: they measure the percentage of harsh-tasting oleic acid in the oil (lower is better), which can translate to quality. “Extra virgin” oils must have less than 1 percent acidity (many clock in below .5 percent) and require as much care in growing and production as boutique wines. Oils with up to 2 percent acidity earn the “virgin” tag. Forget the sluts, er, oils over 3 percent. And also forgo “light” olive oil: the only thing it’s low on is flavor.

IN THE KITCHEN, AT THE TABLE, ALL AROUND THE MULBERRY BUSH
There’s a reason for the large variety of oils: different oils suit different purposes. Think basic wine pairing: match light with light and heavy with heavy. Use subtle oils on mild salad greens or as bread dips, or drizzle a bit on fish, chicken or simple desserts like fruit salad, pound cake or biscotti. Big oils can stand up to red meat - try the Tuscan trick of finishing off a thick grilled steak with a slosh of spicy, robust oil. Better yet, brush the oil on with a rosemary branch while the steak sizzles.

Sometimes the best cooking is no cooking at all. There’s nothing simpler or more satisfying than setting out three or four bottles of oil at the dinner table, along with your chosen vino, some good bread and a cheese or three, before, during and/or after your meal. (If everyone wears black you can feel really superior and Eurotrashy.)

TIPS FOR TASTINGS
Tasting olive oil is a lot like tasting wine: you can stick to one country (Spain, Greece), one region (Tuscany, Sonoma), or one varietal (manzanilla, arbequina) and compare six or eight side by side. Or you can taste a random assortment, and maybe throw in a flavored oil that has citrus or herbs blended in. Add some cubes of chewy bread, little bowls or paper/plastic tasting cups and some easy-drinking wine. Kick back. Speak to each other in Spanish. Wait for Penelope Cruz to show up.

FOR MORE INFO
Check out The Flavors of Olive Oil by Deborah Krasner (Simon & Schuster, 2002) and the Web sites of the International Olive Oil Council (http://www.internationaloliveoil.org) and the California Olive Oil Council (http://www.cooc.com). Or just Google “olive oil” and click around the 50 million or so sites that come up.

OLIVE OIL TASTING NOTES

XX. Antara 100% Arbequina Olives Tarragona - Spain $16/750ml The Ellen DeGeneres of olive oils - easygoing, smooth and slightly nutty. Close to XXX.

XX. Nunez de Prado Extra Virgin Family Estates Crop; Baena - Spain $24/500ml Chris Rock hosting the Oscars - dark, intense and zingers start to finish (but you know what you’re gettin’).

XX. Caroliva Extra Virgin Estate Grown and Bottled; Andalusia - Spain $20/500ml Think a big, buttery chard on steroids. Rich gold color, soft, round and juicy. Close to XXX.

XX. Columela Picual and Hojiblanca Olives Andalucia - Spain $19/500ml Gael Garcia Bernal’s eyes - big, deep and dark. Touch o’ pepper on the finish. Close to XXX.

XX. Gasull Arbequina Olives Catalonia - Spain $22/500ml Cool deep-green bottle with a long slim neck. Purrs like Scarlett Johansson in a Ferrari: soft and elegant with a long, smooth finish.

X. Jordan Hand-Picked, Extra Virgin, From Italian Varietals Alexander Valley - Sonoma $25/375ml Kind of a bait-and-switch: starts out sweet and fruity, then morphs into a porcupine by the time it smacks your tonsils. Close to XX.

X. L’Estornell Extra Virgin, Organic Arbequina Olives Catalonia - Spain $15/375ml Like Erica Christensen in most of her movies: all sweetness and light in the opening scene, but she grabs you by the throat in the last act. Close to XX.

X. Molino de Leoncio Gomez Extra Virgin, Unfiltered, Picudo and Hojiblanca Olives Cordoba - Spain $11/500ml Gotta hunt for the flavors at first, then they do the Big Bang in the back of your mouth. Close to XX.

XXX. Pons Extra Virgin, Arbequina Olives Catalonia - Spain $16/473ml Yo-Yo Ma playing a cello concerto - rich, deep and resonant. Pale gold, medium body, with layers of fresh apple, almond and spice flavors, and a nice little kick on the finish.

XX. Poplar Hill 2005 Extra Virgin Spring Mountain - Napa Valley $20/375ml Light, airy, silky, delicate and balanced; buttery, hazelnutty and smoooooth. An obvious late-picked oil (check the harvest date!) that deserves nothing more than a chunk of good bread and a pinch of salt. Close to XXX.

XX. Skipstone Ranch Melina’s Harvest, November 2004, Extra Virgin Alexander Valley - Sonoma County $25/375ml Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby - brawny, punchy, ends with a surprising knockout.

XX. Soler Romero 100% Picual Olives Andalusia - Spain $18/500ml Why does this taste like nectarines, white pepper and grass? Starts fruity and sweet, then turns tangy on the finish. Slather some on sliced oranges with red onion slivers, lemon juice and salt.

X. Unio 100% Arbequina Olives Siurana - Spain $16/750ml The NZ sauv blanc of olive oils - spicy and green start to finish. Makes a great pesto with basil, anchovies and good parmigiano reggiano. Close to XX.

X. Zoe Extra Virgin Castilla-La Mancha - Spain $9/1-Litre Tin A tad rustic and rough, but a good value. Great for stir-frying veggies. Close to XX.

]]> 2006-08-29T15:57:00-08:00 http://www.winexmagazine.com/index.php/wine/vieweat/mussel-beach/ Mussels on the half shell are as exotic and flavorful as they are inexpensive. Surreal_Gourmet

Mussel Beach

Mussels on the half shell are as exotic and flavorful as they are inexpensive.

(serves 6)

6 basil leaves
2 T fresh thyme, remove and discard stems before measuring
2 T fresh tarragon, remove and discard stems before measuring
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 shallot(s), minced
3 lemons, 1 * zested, 1 /2*juiced, 1 - 1/2* cut into wedges and reserved for garnish
1/4 cup fresh Italian parsley sprigs, remove and discard stems before measuring
1/2 t celery salt
1/4 t freshly ground black pepper
3 T butter at room temperature
1 lb. cultured blue mussels, rinsed, and debearded with a quick tug

1. . Mix all ingredients except the butter and mussels in a small food processor or blender or dice finely and mix by hand in a small bowl.

2. . If using a processor or blender add the butter. Otherwise, add the butter to the mixture in the bowl and blend thoroughly with a spoon.

3. . Place a vegetable steamer in a large pot and add 1 inch of water Bring water to a boil. Add the mussels, cover and steam for approximately 40 to 60 seconds, or just long enough for the shells to open (this is the sole object of the exercise). Remove opened shells and continue steaming any closed shells for I minute. Discard any mussels that have not opened by this time.

4. . Allow the mussels to cool. Remove the top shell.

5. . Set the mussels on a baking sheet (facing up) and spoon 1/4 teaspoon of the butter/herb mixture over each.

6. . Place the pan under the broiler on the level closest to the element or flame. Broil for about 2-1/2 minutes, or until butter is melted and the mussels just begin to brown.

7. . Serve on the half shell.

le secret. .Do not oversteam or overbroil mussels.

the adventure club . .Add a few droplets of Pernod (a licorice-flavored liqueur) to each mussel just before cooking.

garnish . .Lemon wedges.

suggested accompaniment . .A martini.

alternatives . .i) Butter may be replaced with an equal amount of olive oil. ii) This recipe also works with oysters, but you will have to pray for a pearl in order to finance the difference in price.

notes . .Buy the mussels from a reputable fishmonger on the day of the dinner. Select only mussels that are closed. ii) Keep mussels refrigerated. iii) Mussels are best washed and cleaned just before using. They begin to dry out once the beard is removed. iv) Don't worry if you are missing any one of the herbs. v) If you open a mussel and it looks questionable, give it the smell test.

guest assignment . .Mussel debearder.

hints for advance prep . .The butter mixture may be prepared days in advance and refrigerated or frozen.

cooking apparatus . .A baking sheet, a large pot, and a vegetable steamer.

serving apparatus . .A large serving plate, a plate for the empty shells and cocktail napkins.

prep time . .Thirty minutes.

cooking time . .Five minutes.

* Double for 12 servings ]]> 2006-08-07T21:38:00-08:00