Showing posts with label May. Show all posts
Showing posts with label May. Show all posts

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Thank god for Melbourne markets

I'm still sorting through various holiday photos and found this doozy from my last visit to New Zealand.
Yes, a single celeriac for NZ$13.31!
The week before our trip I had made a celeriac remoulade at home in Melbourne and was craving it again, until I saw this celeriac at a supermarket in Christchurch.
The main sign noted that it was a product of New Zealand so the crazy price just doesn't make any sense. Its $10 more expensive than the celeriac I had brought in Australia.
No wonder none of the kiwis I spoke to knew what celeriac was, I bet these headed to the supermarket rubbish bin eventually once they were too old for sale.
Who would buy this... for $13? Just crazy.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Kaikoura crayfish

Once upon a time*, back when I got married many months ago, we took a short trip to New Zealand to celebrate with the kiwi contingent that couldn't join us in Melbourne for the official party.
A highlight of the trip apart from PDC's mammoth half marathon PB time, was the most lovely cocktail party that was thrown for us, one of the food highlights of this evening was some very special Kaikoura crayfish.

I've been through Kaikoura a couple of times, it's a small town on the north-east coast of New Zealands south island. The thing I remember most clearly is the fur seal colony that lives along the coast there and the linked foodie thing about seeing these seals that explains my keen interest in this town, seals love crayfish and so do I.
Luckily for both of us Kaikoura translates from Maori as 'Meal of Crayfish' - needless to say there is crayfish to be had for both the Aussie tourist and the seals.

The crayfish canapes you can see in this image I made from two crayfish that my mother-in law bartered for from a licensed Kaikoura diver. Apparently only licensed divers can catch the crays and this guy had more than he needed. (...great to see that smart old fashioned barter is still alive and well)

The crays nearly fell victim to a mornay sauce *phew* before PDC and I decided to take charge and made these ooh-la-la canapes.
The baguette we baked for the croutons was already on hand and we whipped up some mayo quicker than getting in the car to go to the supermarket (if you doubt that, look at my recipe here) the garnish was the tricky part.

An avocado slice and dill was a logical classic combination but never being just satisfied with the easy option I decided to add another flavour combo to the other half.
Persimmons were in season and perfect at the time and I had one waiting for my breakfast the next morning. Thinking about the flavours I decided (with testing on myself, of course!) that the vanilla characters of the persimmon reminded me of a frenchy vanilla sauce sometimes served with fish and the crunch well that went without saying, the decision was made.
So a smear of mayonnaise, a medallion of crayfish (that we had cooked earlier that morning) and then some match sticks of persimmon.

They were gone in a flash. Lucky that cray diver was quicker than a flash

*I opened my blog account and found this as a draft post from what seems like it was from so long ago it was a fairy tale, hence I just had to start with 'once upon a time'.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

The last tomato

Could this be Melbourne's last tomato?

Being strictly of the seasonal food camp, it has greatly amused me that my tiny courtyard garden has proven to be so unseasonal this year.

When everyone else was experiencing bumper crops of tomatoes, my heirloom bushes barely had a flower and the fruit that did eventuate died in our desert like heat wave of 40+ degree temperatures.

And now when I should have pulled out the dying vine months ago (but I held out hope for this tiny slowly growing tomato), I have this a gorgeous Black Zebra tomato, my last.



As you can see from the first picture, the vine is totally dead apart from the one stem holding on to my tomato, just grown in a pot in my sunny courtyard in St Kilda.

Weird unseasonal stuff huh!

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Everything old is new again - Sunnybrae Restaurant

Life is cyclical…
Kitchen gardens were once a necessity to supply food to hungry dining rooms, now they are clever marketing tools capitalising on our desire for fresh S.O.L.E. food.

Collected rain and spring water provided sustenance to regional areas, now it’s bottled and sold as a fashion accessory.

Going to a friend’s home for dinner was a special occasion, now we dine at fancy restaurants, as we can’t remember how to cook.

Seasonality is an old fashioned term that existed before the days of air freighted food that supplies goods all year round from far away places.

Family style platters of real food were prepared with love, now restaurant a la carte and degustation are kings - or worse - the fast food epidemic.

Meals use to be inexpensive and yet high on quality, now meals can be either very expensive and high on quality or inexpensive and poor on quality.


This is the reality of food today; yet everything old, can and is becoming new again.

Sunnybrae at Birregurra is a perfect example of this.

I had the pleasure to dine at the reopened Sunnybrae a couple of weekends ago and experienced the old fashioned hospitality of George Biron’s restaurant and home. With excited anticipation of the trip, I spoke with a few friends whom had dined at Sunnybrae in the 1990’s before it had a 7 year hibernation, to try and get a feeling for the experience; it seems very little has changed.
Visiting George’s blog, you get a warm, passionate insight to him as a chef and restaurateur, this was my motivator for the day trip to Birregurra, in person George completes the picture, he does not just offer words on a website.

The food at Sunnybrae was (more than) generous and refined. The menu consisted of five courses, plus house baked bread served with Georges own just-pressed olive oil and some local olives. The experience is low on the need for decision making; perhaps a chat about different main course options if you like, or otherwise it’s wild rabbit with beetroot and pomegranates, and pick your dessert/cheese course and your done. The handwritten menu changes regularly and is filled with the fruits from the Sunnybrae garden and the surrounding region, it's seasonal and classically respectful.

The meal is a set price of $66 per person, a price that George feels is fair and right, and that I think is too little for such a banquet. I doubt that many people would blink an eye, if that learnt that the price was $99, the sense of value would still be strong. This more than reasonable price is obviously obtainable from a combination of having your own property and the desire and know how to develop the garden to produce fresh food or use basics to add value at the table. Most people charge money for the advantages that their skill and experience brings, Sunnybrae seems happy to share the love.

Milk-fed lamb for main course

Succulent salad - served with main course

Upside down spiced cumquat cake for dessert

We drank rainwater from the property and enjoyed some served sparkling, as promised, from retro soda siphons, we also byo’ed a special bottle of Champagne to share and selected from the list of local wines – again very well priced – no balancing act going on here, with the wine list subsidising the menu.

My favourite dish and actually my May Dish of the Month (a tad late!) is the
Spanish-style ham with spiced tomatillos, avocados and limes – Sunnybrae


The ham was curiously gorgeous; soft, nutty and delicate, as good as any I have eaten in Australia, yet the flavour combinations of the salsa blew my socks off.

The South American combination of ripe avocado, lime (and zest?) and the pickled tomatillos was always going to be good but this was amazing, slightly textural, slightly creamy, slightly tangy, just delectable.


A day trip to Sunnybrae is an experience that I hope all passionate foodies get to experience, it’s an old fashioned country restaurant offering modern, enchanting food in the surrounds of a large property (with a sadly dry lake), with friendly staff and a great cook. For me it’s a shame that it's such a drive away but I have since learnt about the possibility of taking the train (and a walk to and from the station), something that I think would be perfect in the right weather and look forward to doing this once it warms.

Being at Sunnybrae refreshes my mind about what pure hospitality is all about - a little taste of this, a splash of that - a desire to share, both time, skill and love of good food. Some old things do become new again, but usually only the good ones.

Welcome back Sunnybrae.