#275: Fancy-Pants Restaurant
It’s not a holiday if you don’t spend way too much on sweeeeettt delicious fooooooodd. During our second honeymoon, CJ and I ate at the Merimbula RSL club, the Seabreeze Cafe (really nice battered fish), the Wharf Restaurant and Aquarium (I had the duck, and it was insanely delicious), and Wheelers Oyster Farm and Restaurant. This is Wheelers. 
It’s a beautiful building with lots of wood, glass, and stone. 
CJ drank a strongbow cider, and I had a raspberry lemonade. Can you guess what I ordered from my cutlery? 
And here it is. . . our appetiser. 
That’s what a mixed half dozen of cooked oysters looks like. Now here’s the thing: My Mum LOVES oysters, but she always eats them uncooked. It had never occurred to me to eat cooked oysters until I looked at the menu at Wheelers.
Those three oysters were the greatest oysters – the greatest three mouthfuls – of my life. If ever there was a time for florid prose, it was here. I carefully didn’t drink anything between the two courses – I just sat, quietly feeling the three flavours mingle like old friends. Then it was time to move on. But where to go from there? CJ had fish and chips. I had. . . 
Mmm. . . eyeballs. Inside the mound of food and sauce were three crabs that I slowly but surely broke open and ate. It was epic. The aftermath: 
We considered eating dessert – which of course would have been excellent – but I’m a purist when it comes to junk food (I look at the average chocolate cake and say, “Not enough lard!”) Thus, we bought candy for dessert on our way home. But I still remember my old friends Singapore, Rocky, and Plumrick. Don’t worry boys – we’ll meet again.
S#99: Mmmm, sprinkles!
Today’s awesomeness mission was to bake a cake or cookies for a bunch of friends, utilising the awesome power of sprinkles.
I haz fulfilled my mission.
Here’s the meringues I made (crusty on the outside, chewy on the inside, and sprinkled with leftover margarita sugar):
My recipe:
4 egg whites
1.5 c. sugar
healthy splash of vanilla
Preheat oven to 220 degrees Celsius. Beat egg whites until stiff. Add sugar (gradually. . . ish) and vanilla. Drop by teaspoonful onto greased trays. Sprinkle with something shiny and/or chocolate.
Turn off oven and leave in for five hours.
Eat leftover meringue mixture.
Eat cooked meringues.
Blog.
Take remaining meringues to party.
#113: A Five Course Meal
You can tell by the (relatively) low number that this was on my list waaaaaayyyy back in March 2010 when I started my plan of a year of Daily Awesomeness. Since then I’ve been studying manners for my steampunk book, so when I couldn’t get inspired by anything awesome last Sunday and I glanced at my wall of awesomenesses and saw #113, it was a beautiful moment.
I needed to not spend any money – but I love a challenge, especially a ridiculous one. The traditional five course meal is made up of:
1. Appetisers
2. Soup course
3. Salad course
4. Meat course
5. Dessert
I. . . adjusted the traditions. Of course. I adjusted even more when my sister-in-law invited CJ and I out to dinner and I counter-invited them to our increasingly complex soiree (luckily, they also bought wine*). My aim was to manage five courses for four people based on what was in my house at the time (I had originally planned to have sushi that night, mainly because we had half a cucumber that needed eating). Since I’m eating healthily these days, I also needed to use very small portions.
For fun, I decided to go nuts on the table settings and be as ultra-classy as possible. And so it was that I donned regency garb and strolled nonchalantly next door to steal some of their best roses**.
Here’s the final result of the table organisation, moments before we ate.
Our appetiser is cashew nuts, served in the two green bowls (cutlery: teaspoons). This was followed by “Invisible soup” served on bread and butter plates “with”. . . well, bread and butter (is there anything more delicious than soft white bread spread with real butter?) Our salad course featured cucumber, avocado and Asian mayonaisse served inside sushi rolls (or whatever they’re called. For that, the cutlery was chopsticks). For the meat course, each of us ate one-fourth of a single forlorn yet delicious piece of lasagna I discovered in the freezer, solving the dilemma of how I whether I’d share it with CJ or eat it when he wasn’t looking (cutlery: knives and forks). For dessert we partook of fruit salad (with dessert spoons, naturally). We drank water, orange juice, and wine.
The ladies used serviettes (cloth, naturally – we’re not COLONIALS for goodness’ sake), although the gentlemen declined them (which was a good thing, since I could only find two that weren’t disposable).
It was a delicious meal, and I recommend you see what you can scrounge up from your own cupboard when a five-course mood strikes you.
*And lots of it. This later altered the whole “don’t spend money” thing and the “eat healthily” thing (see http://shootingthrough.net/2011/01/23/266-late-night-ice-cream-run/), and was totally worth it.
**not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.
Tomorrow: See “The King’s Speech” at Dendy Premium cinemas – yep, I’ll be reviewing it for you.
#266: Late-night ice cream run
I don’t actually need to write this entry at all since I feel certain you’re all sitting at your computer/phone, nodding in agreement.
I hear you. Late-night ice cream runs are, by their very nature, awesome.
This one was more awesomer. First, because there was a group of us going. Second, because it was the legendary Cold Rock Ice Cream company, which has just opened in Canberra (in Gungahlin, my Canberra peeps). So bundling the four of us into our cars and driving over there just before they closed felt naughty, and silly, and special – arguably the three most necessary ingredients of the best awesomenesses.
If you’re not familiar with Cold Rock Ice Cream, here’s how it works:
Step One: Decide to go – just because you can.
Step Two: Walk in. Pause. Gibber.
Step Three: Choose an ice cream flavour (see Step Two). I was torn between Baileys and English Toffee, but eventually chose Cake Batter. CJ chose Rocky Road.
Step Four: Choose add-ins from a wide range of popular chocolate and lolly varieties including Ferrero Rocher, Sour Gummy Worms, Skittles, Maltesers, Caramello Koalas, and MANY more (see Step Two). I chose Cookie Dough, Mint Freddo Frog, and Crunchie Bar. CJ chose Chocolate Fudge, strawberries (the real fruit kind), and a Bounty Bar.
Step Five: Explain why you’re taking photos as your assistant puts a chunk of your selected ice cream flavour onto a wide stone bench that is cold (see name of store).
Step Six: Watch in awe as your assistant smashes up your selection of candy and expertly folds it into the ice cream.
Step Seven: Take blurry photos of the final product due to overexcitement.
Step Eight: Nom nom.
Some general advice:
1. Don’t get a large size. Trust me on this one.
2. Choose your genre of fruit, sweet, sour, or mixed carefully. Also be advised that some things – Skittles, Sour Worms, Gummi Bears – don’t smash up, and others, like Cookie Dough or Fudge, tend to flatten rather than fracture.
3. Stay calm. There are suggestions on the wall if you really can’t make up your mind.
4. More than three add-ins tends to overwhelm the otherwise elegant symphony of flavour.
5. If you’re at Cold Rock for the first time, ignore # 4 and # 1.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Anyone wondering why I’m wearing a Regency dress? There is actually a reason, and it’s not “coz I felt like it”.
You’ll find out the truth on Tuesday.
#264: Vodka and caviar
Today’s mission (suggested by Ben) was:
Eat something ‘gross’ that is considered a delicacy in another culture.
Ever since watching “The Strange Case of Benjamin Button” (which, sidebar, I didn’t like due to the excessive sadness) I’ve wanted to combine vodka and caviar – like Tilda Swinton’s character does in the film.
Since I’m buying caviar for my epic birthday feast – but don’t plan to buy enough vodka for everyone – I chose to indulge myself today.
I discovered that, ironically, vodka “ice” (unlike regular vodka) can freeze. After waiting for it to unfreeze, CJ and I ate Russia’s answer to Devonshire Tea.
Vodka is pretty yucky without sugar, but cruisers always taste nice. Caviar is an extraordinarily neat food – both in the jar and on the tongue. Each sphere is perfectly formed and doesn’t taste of anything much. They feel surprisingly solid, like tiny marbles. Then you bite down and juicy saltiness just explodes. (I forgot to note back at the “sushi” entry that I do like one salty food – caviar.)
Then you have a little more vodka. Then some more caviar. Then vodka. Then caviar. I think the effect of the vodka is to burn away the flavour so each new mouthful of caviar is a brilliant surprise.
I enjoyed this very much. (The little jars, by the way, only cost about $6.)
In the past, I’ve also eaten:
Chicken feet and neck (tastes like. . . er, chicken. Particularly chicken wings).
Crocodile (like very dense, dry chicken).
Dog (like extremely tough red meat – yuck).
Turtle/Tortoise (I don’t know which because no-one there spoke English), which was the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. It tasted wrong and dirty and gravelly – much like I expected dog to taste, actually.
And I’ve eaten frog’s legs (like extremely tiny drumsticks, and perfectly nice despite the difficulty of actually eating them) and. . . drum roll. . . fried frog’s skin.
The fried frog’s skin was crunchy – crunchier than crunchy potato chips – and mostly tasted burnt.
One question remains: Who on earth goes around peeling frogs?
PS Now I want to go eat some more caviar. And have more vodka.
Yay for Russia.
S#93: Collect Something Interesting
This one had me stumped for a while, since I dislike collections of physical objects. I decided to collect the “Samurai Kids” series by the brilliant and compassionate Sandy Fussell (books have a clear and excellent function, so I like collecting them), but then I had another idea.
As you know, I recently had a sushi epiphany. I’m still flying high.
A lot of food is international, no matter where in the world you are (but perhaps especially in Australia, where we’re linked historically to Europe, politically to America, and physically to Asia).
Here is a list of the meals CJ and I regularly cook (usually mangled beyond recognition, because that’s the multicultural way), with the country that instantly comes to mind (this is my mind, which is going to be wrong on plenty of these):
-Lasagna (Italy)
-Stir fry (generic Asia)
-Soto/Javanese chicken soup (Indonesia)
-Ravioli (Italy)
-Fish and Chips (UK)
-Hamburgers (USA)
-Sushi (Japan)
-Lamb chops (Australia, yay!)
-Tuna Mornay (actually, I don’t know)
-Roast dinner (UK)
-Fettucini bolognaise (Italian)
-Shepherds’ pie (UK, although it could be Germanic)
-Souffle (France)
-Fried rice (Indonesia)
-Beef stroganoff (Russia)
-Salad with fetta (Greece)
-Yum cha (China)
So I decided to collect famous foods from EVERY CONTINENT ON EARTH and serve them all at once, making sure the world is as well-represented as possible. Naturally, I’d only eat delicious things (eg I don’t like curry, so I chose butter chicken for India), and I’d have to fudge in places (Africa was hard, particularly since I cordially dislike most vegies) – but I’d try to be as stereotypical as possible.
Historically, practically everything we eat comes originally from the Americas – but from so long ago that we don’t associate most of it with America any more.
I had to make some tough calls for the UK, Italy, India, and China (sooooo much deliciousness), and leave out a lot of Europe for the sake of variety.
This is one draft of what I came up with:
Isn’t it a beautiful thing? Making this map made me incredibly proud of how international our world really is.
I deliberately focused on dishes that are very much a part of ordinary Australian life (I have eaten absolutely every item on this map, and have cooked almost all of them).
Papua New Guinea makes a drink that is clearly lemonade – which it isn’t well known for, but it’s delicious and easy to prep ahead of time – and I wanted to represent PNG since I lived there for two years (but don’t have an underground mumu oven, which would be really handy right now).
Halva is a kind of sweet.
I actually plan to do this thing for real next month – and blog about it in detail, of course! How will sushi taste after a mouthful of butter chicken? Does satay taste good with mashed potato, or is it better with pate? I plan to find out.
For my own amusement, I did another map with stereotypical booze by continent (from roughly left to right: Tequila; a genuine South American phrase that means “the dregs of everyone else’s drink, given to some poor drunk fool who doesn’t know any better”; Baileys & red wine; beer in Egypt; vodka & sake; and white wine for Australia).
I don’t think I’ll ever try that one in real life though.
I’m working on a final list for the food that is as simple as possible (eg France is pate rather than souffle, USA is coke rather than hamburgers, and I’ll do caviar instead of beef stronanoff for Russia). Everything that requires cooking will be cooked by me or by my friends.
I can’t wait!
Can anyone else think of a food (like “Turkish Delight” or “Brazil nuts”) that we actually name after a country?
S#2: Sushi
This certainly was a long time coming.
I don’t like salty food. Salt – sure, I like it. But I hate olives, anchovies, pepperoni, and all that icky stuff. I also loathe spicy food, and have never voluntarily eaten anything that was pickled (yuck!). So I had a fairly good idea of what my reaction to sushi would be. There is absolutely no way I’d have eaten sushi if it wasn’t on the steffmetal.com list.
I’m also not huge on anime either (I like plots to make sense, and breasts to obey the laws of nature), but we watched “Read or Die” which has one of the best heroines ever invented anywhere. (She find and buys a rare book that it turns out the baddies need in order to kill all humans. They steal it, so she has all kinds of amazing magical action sequences, and as she’s flying through the air getting shot at she says to the baddie, “Excuse me, can I have my book back? I haven’t finished reading it.”)
Fay gathered the ingredients: sushi rice, sushi powder (basically vinegar), nori (seaweed sheets), some fresh vegetables, soy sauce, chicken, tinned fish, mayonaisse, pickled ginger, and wasabi. All of the ingredients were on the shelves in a major supermarket (which apparently used to stock Asian mayonaisse, but doesn’t any more).
We cooked the rice, fried the chicken in garlic, and chopped the vegies.
I was getting pretty hungry, but no more enthusiastic than before. Cucumber? Yuck!
Fay rolled out the bamboo mat and laid a sheet of nori on top. Once she’d demonstrated what to do, I took over. I spread out the rice, pushing it down, and put mayonaisse on top.
I laid vegetables long-wise, and pieces of chicken (thinly sliced), and rolled it up as tightly as I could, pressing down at the end so the empty bit of seaweed stuck to the roll. Then I sliced it.
I took a piece, added soy sauce and (gulp) pickled ginger, and. . . ate it.
Madness! Chaos! The destruction of all I once knew!
The world is cute and round and saltily wonderful. Sushi is delicious and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. It’s as satisfying as eating chips, but with a symphony of flavours and colours that makes the saltiness sing.
Turns out I adore pickled ginger (strangely sweet in combination, but with a nasty bite when I tried it on its own), too.
We all had a go at the curiously satisfying construction, and tried different flavour combinations (avocado and chicken is good, but it’s actually better with more vegetables, especially cucumber – HAS THE WORLD GONE MAD???)
I gathered my scattered wits and courage, and tried one with wasabi and. . . luckily (for the sake of all that is solid in the world) I didn’t like it.
But I wants me more more sushi. Right now.
Actually, CJ and I will probably have some for lunch. That leaves just three more hours until I gets me some more sweet sweet sushi.
mmMMMMmmm
#245: Food on Fire
This friend of ours (who held a party yesterday) had also prepared a Christmas Pudding. . . in July. He’s been maturing it and feeding it (yes, that’s what he called it) ever since, using his British great-grandmother’s recipe.
And then he set it on fire.
The truly peculiar thing is that I view Christmas Puddings with the same polite distaste as, say, dead house plants.
But I tasted a mouthful of fruity, nutty deliciousness (with brandy butter, naturally) and nearly fainted dead away. The thing was delicious. I then ate most of a slice, treating its location on CJ’s plate with cavalier disregard (and then I went and “helped clear up” the few fragments left on the serving plate).
Suddenly British Cuisine makes some kind of sense (under very specific circumstances).
Huzzah!
I’ve asked the friend for the full recipe, and will be posting it here as soon as I get it.
——-
Here it is – with his comments!
You can get all of the ingredients in Australia, the only problem one is the suet. You can NOT use the stuff from the supermarket as they mix it with flour, you will need to go to a good butchers and ask for suet, they will probably tell you to come back the next day for it. once you have it you need to put it in the freezer and grate off the quantity required.
You may well need to halve this one as it makes two large puds or 3 medium ones.
Good luck when you do them, they can be made well in advance of Xmas as they will keep well in a fridge or cool dark cupboard (i make mine in July, same time i make my Christmas cakes, and let them mature.)
Three-Ingredient Thursday: Lunch
This is it: the end of ten weeks of three-ingredient Thursdays. I hope you enjoyed looking at food you weren’t eating, and perhaps making and eating it yourselves.
Today’s is a classic Australian school lunch that for some reason hasn’t crossed the Pacific. Maybe today’s the day.
Yep, it’s a peanut butter and honey sandwich. Aussie readers will be frowning at this, saying, “That’s not a recipe. That’s LUNCH.” American readers will be frowning at this, saying, “But where’s the jelly? Oh, those silly Australians don’t know how to make a sandwich.”
Perhaps we can all try one another’s sandwiches, and unite the world. Peanut butter and honey/jam/jelly (we antipodeans call “jelly” jam – our “jelly” is American “jello”) is delicious, believe me.
If, gentle reader, you have a new sandwich-related cultural experience this week, do come back and tell us all about it.
Tomorrow: My pick of the top five novels that I’ve read in preparation for the mighty writing conferences of August/September. There will be zombies, first love, an evil Santa, a gay best friend, war, and Anonymity Jones.
In other news, “Peace Hostage” ends this Saturday – but I’ll continue posting rainforest pics until the end of the month. On September 1, the new story, “Killer Robot Cat” begins. Personally, I can’t wait.
In the meantime, here’s your rainforest pic for today:
Photos courtesy of www.amazonwatch.org, Thomas Marent, impactlab.com, wikipedia, and Sipa Press/Rex Features
Original Source: Rainforest facts, The Guardian, and cn.dk.com
Three-Ingredient Thursday is CURSED!!!
Another near-death experience this week. It’s becoming a habit.
In other news, I made fish and chips. I use the word “made” in its loosest sense.
I sprayed two trays with oil, and put the fish in one. I washed, peeled and cut the potatoes and put them in the other tray with more oil sprayed over the top. Then I cooked them all (fish on the top tray) for about 35 minutes at about 200 degrees celsius. Then I bathed them in salt and lemon juice. Soooooo gooooooood.
Sorry, what’s that you say? Something about a near-death experience? Oh yes, of course.
Are we sitting nicely?
So I was once again driving along the Tuggeranong Parkway at 100 km/hr. This time it was raining and misty, so visibility was low and the tyres had ADHD. Now LAST time I wrote about the parkway (precisely one week ago) I observed an idiot move into the right lane and almost hit a truck. THIS time the part of the innocent victim was played by yours truly.
It’s always surprising when a car suddenly veers into one’s lane at high speed. I hit the brakes and the horn at the same time, as well as attempting to squeeze our wagon into a smaller slice of lane. The car was determined to plough into me, however, and casually disregarded my frantic beeping. I pushed harder on the brake and watched with a certain curiousity as the back corner of their car narrowly missed the front corner of mine.
If I’d braked half a second later, I’d probably be in hospital right now.
By the rules of narrative writing, I should be the one changing lanes without head-checking next Thursday (which also happens to be the Final Three-Ingredient Thursday – this curse is neat, isn’t it?) and due to the rule of three (third time succeeds where two previous attempts didn’t) will cause chaos and death. The narrative would particularly benefit from me doing so while crossing a bridge on that same road, since a bridge further up partially collapsed last weekend. That’s some nice foreshadowing.
Fortunately I’m not superstitious.* Also, unlike apparently everyone else, I tend to look where I’m going before changing lanes.**
Feeling paranoid now? Here’s a calming rainforest from flickr.com
*Being narratively aware is a completely different issue.
**Which explains why I only ever crash into objects directly in front of me.
Felicity Banks 