bread and tomato salad

Tomatoes, flavour wise are never better than they are right now. This is a great use for them in season, a salad of bright flavours, quite raw and punchy. Don't hold back on anything but the very best olive oil and lively basil, make and eat without delay. 

 

Bread and tomato salad

 

Serves 4

 

250g open textured bread such as ciabatta

600g ripe and juicy tomatoes

1 small cucumber

1 fresh, new clove garlic

1 red or yellow pepper

1 large bunch basil

1 handful olives

8 anchovy fillets

150ml green and peppery olive oil

1 tblsp red wine vinegar

 

Set the oven at 180 c/gas 4. Slice the bread thickly - the pieces should be about 1 cm thick - and lay them on a baking sheet. Sprinkle each piece very lightly with olive oil then bake them for about 15 minutes, till they are lightly crisp.

 

Slice the tomatoes, but don't be tempted to peel or seed them. Put them in a large serving bowl. Peel and seed the cucumber and cut it into rough chunks, then add to the tomato.

 

Finely chop the garlic, cut the pepper into small dice and add both to the tomatoes. Tear the basil leaves from their stalks then add them to the bowl. Rinse the anchovies, then mix them in with the salad.

 

Put the oil and vinegar into a small dish, season it with salt, I think you can be quite generous here, and some black pepper. Toss the dressing, bread and salad gently together and then add the pieces of toasted bread. Eat before the bread gets too soggy.

kimchi

Absolutely everybody needs to keep a pot of home made kimchi in the fridge for that pick me up some dishes always seem to lack. Making it at home is the easiest thing too, so very rewarding indeed. Dump some on steamed rice for a midweek comforter, pop on the side of a steak for some zing, drop a few bits into your noodles for a laugh.

 

1 large Chinese cabbage

4 litres water

100g coarse salt

1 small head of garlic, peeled and chopped

6cm piece of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped

60ml fish sauce

80ml chilli paste

1 bunch spring onions, cut into 3cm lengths

1 medium daikon radish, peeled and grated

1 tsp honey

 

Slice the cabbage lengthwise in half, then slice each half lengthwise into 3 sections. Cut away the tough stem heart chunks.

 

Dissolve the salt in the water in a very large container, then submerge the cabbage under the water. Put a plate on top to make sure the cabbage stays under water, leave this for 2 hours.

 

Mix the other ingredients in a very large glass bowl. Drain the cabbage, rinse it, and squeeze it dry. Mix it all up, preferably by hand.

 

Pack the kimchi in a clean glass jar large enough to hold it all and cover it tightly. Let it stand for one to two days in a cool place, around room temperature to allow the fermentation take hold.

 

Check the kimchi after a couple of days. If it’s bubbling nice and gently, then it’s ready and should be refrigerated. If not, let it stand another day, when it should be done good and proper.

 

Once it’s fermenting it is basically ready to go, store in the fridge for another few days at least to allow the full potential to develop.  If you want, add a sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds over the kimchi for serving. It’s probably prudent to eat the kimchi within about 3 weeks. After that, it can get too fermented.

no california rolls served here

Not every sushi place you go to are all together happy about knocking up a few California rolls. That said, you master this and make them at home, you quite probably will impress everyone you know.

 

1 piece Makisu (bamboo rolling mat)

Dark green nori sheets

Sushi rice, cooked and seasoned

Crab sticks

Thinly sliced avocado

Cucumber (Japanese if available), thinly sliced

Toasted sesame seeds

Japanese mayonnaise

Fine salmon roe

 

Firstly, and in order to keep your rice from sticking to the Makisu and making a God awful mess, carefully wrap the Makisu in cling film.

 

Fold the nori sheets in half to break them, then lay them on your work surface and cover each sheet with about half a cup of sushi rice. To do so, first set the rice on the end of the nori sheet closest to you, then working with the fingertips, gently spread the rice over the surface of the nori.

 

With your California rolls, the rice is generally on the outside, so to continue, flip the rice coated sheet so that the rice side is down, carefully position the sheet horizontally so it will roll lengthwise.

 

Next, place a single row of crab across the middle of the nori. Then, place slices of avocado end to end right against the crab. It’s best to use an avocado that’s ripe but still quite firm. A generous squeeze of Japanese mayonnaise along the length of the roll comes next. Lastly, lay the very thin cucumber slices end-to-end right alongside the crab and avocado.

 

To roll the sushi, carefully lift the edge of the mat closest to you and begin rolling away from you, pressing lightly to keep the roll firm. At this point, the nearest edge of the roll has gone upwards and away from you and the pressure should guarantee a tight roll.

 

Next, lift up the end of the rolling mat and pull it away from you, allowing the roll to roll the rest of the mat. Then carefully remove the roll from the mat and place it on a cutting board. Lay the mat over the top of the roll and exert gentle pressure once more to make sure it’s all secure.

 

Hold the roll on the mat and sprinkle the top with toasted sesame seeds. Dredge the roll through the fine salmon roe to complete.

 

Slice the rolls using a very sharp knife with a smooth wet blade. Begin by slicing perfectly in half. The set the two halves side by side and slice into individual pieces, this ensures each piece is uniform in size.

 

three day marinades really do work

Recipes, blah blah, marinade for 2 hours, blah blah, preferably overnight, blah blah, just enough time to get the flavour in, blah blah.

I'm telling you now, leave it for three days and you'll really see where depth of flavour comes from.

As for a recipe, here's the time when you can let your senses be your guide, the touch, smell and look added to the taste is all the quantity directives needed, really.

I had some pretty lean pork loin, which does need a little assistance unless it's going to be basted with copious amounts of fat, so maybe the three day thing also worked particularly well for a cut of meat that may otherwise have come out a touch on the dry and chewy side of affairs.

It's no secret that the Thai way of balancing flavours is one of the darlings of the global kitchen, and a massive favourite of mine in a way that it is more often than not cobbled together through trial, error and success. I've had charcoal grilled pork neck in Bangkok where I am reasonably sure that I have NEVER tasted barbecued meat so perfect, so innocently prepared, aggressively seasoned, moist, juicy, tender, and still shimmering with perfectly suspended internal strokes of fat.

My pork sat in a happy bath of soy, fish sauce, red and green chilli, bashed lemongrass, galangal, shallots, lime juice and rice vinegar. Dry roasted in a pan with a lid on after the colour was achieved for no more than 10 minutes, rested then sliced and folded back through the marinade which was tipped into the roasting pan and brought to the boil before being switched off.

A few flecks of fresh red chilli and another squeeze of lime juice was all that was needed to round the show out.

The ever so slightly unconventional bit. Found a great new bakery that's just opened around the corner and the call of their sourdough was way too good to ignore, so a slice of that lightly toasted topped with a crisp shredding of romaine lettuce, smothered with the meat and her pokey marinade.

One more squeeze of lime atop my open sandwich of sorts and my work here is well and truly complete.
 

the sandwich that lit up the hinterland

All things considered, there's precious little that hasn't been thrown together in the shape of a sandwich that hasn't worked out well in the end.

A sweet little weekend break in the Hinterland has so much to offer, including pies, great markets and legendary sandwiches. There's so much more to add, but just for now the sandwich gets the credit it deserves though.

This beautiful monster should really have served two people and kept them going for a day, but with a cold beer or two it really only took care of lunch for one in the sunshine. A work of double handed genius in a symphony of pork, egg, fried bits and dough.

A proper work of art that simultaneously appetizes and satisfies.

Rock on the sandwich...
 

gyoza last thing on a Brisbane Sunday night

There’s always a right time to leave the last dumpling on a plate. Any dumpling. No matter how good it is. Some examples of when, quite exactly, one might consider the notion that one has hung around a litle too long could include, but not confined to:

 

1) Your host has to ask you to pay your bill and leave now

2) You’re actually properly tired

3) Eat another gyoza and you'll take someone down with you on the way out

4) You’re properly drunk on great Japanese beer and well on your way to memorably embarrassing yourself and anybody associated with you

5) You’re heading up the last straggle of diners and staying longer would make you seem tragic or desperate

6) Someone slightly more tragic looking than you has just arrived and no possible good can come from you being in the same restaurant with them

7) There’s better gyoza at a new place just opened up down the street

8) Someone really smart kicks the karaoke system into life

9) There is more than one left on the plate

 

all I want is yakitori tonight

I'm absolutely sure there's no-one who has come anywhere close to working out a more beautiful relationship, and I for one, am yet to imagine any possible food that goes better with a really cold beer.

 

 

Any perfectly grilled skewer of bite-sized anything with a bit of a kick and a chilled beer has some beating, and the discovery of a place where these are the only two things on offer is like stumbling upon Nirvana. Truly, when a really popular restaurant has but the one offering, you have to assume they are absolute perfectionist in their field.

 

 

It tends to be the charcoal gives yakitori its unique and irresistible scent and I guess the taste is developed on from the grill through the exact seasoning generally offered. 'Shio' which simply means that it's served with salt, or 'Tare' a salty-sweet sauce, which is basically made from soy sauce, sugar, and mirin. Whatever is on offer, the whole idea of cook to serve without the need to plate up with accompaniments and frills has always appealed in a big way.

 

 

In the event of not being heading to Yurakucho, Shimbashi or Shinjuku tonight, having some of those incredible pickled bamboo shoots with my first beer before the first skewers come off the grill, I now know what I'm having for dinner at home later, whatever happens...