March 12
Another short night's sleep and another limited breakfast. I did have a battle with the toaster and won't bother in future. It was one of those conveyor belt beasties and it would appear that the toast has to be passed through twice if it is to gain even a semblance of colour.
Having been warned to arrive at the Master Class room early, I did so. The tiny girl on the door told me to go away again as the session didn't start until 09.30. When I asked when we would be allowed in, she said "09.30"! This didn't sound like a sensible arrangement to me but time will tell.
At 09.30, we all charged inside and grabbed the best seats. Chris Salans is an imposing figure and is obviously used to an audience. An interesting mix of French and American, he is now based in Bali and cooks Indonesian styles of food. He concentrated on spices and how to prepare them. He cooks them in huge quantities of oil, then preserves the oil for imparting the flavours to the dish. What I didn’t spot is whether he just filtered or sieved the spice & oil mix or used some other process.
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The precise mix of spices isn't too important. Ginger and the other roots, such as turmeric, are grated and then squeezed to add their juices to the dish.
He also used a mincer rather than a grinder to prepare the spices. I must buy one then I can also make sausages. Interestingly, the same spice and coconut stock was used for both a seafood ravioli and a fruit salad.
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Both worked very well and the temptation to eat all of the tastings was great - but I resisted it.
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I also resisted the temptation to sample any of the Danish pastries which accompanied coffee.
Left: Danish pastries to die for |
Just as Chris Salans was big and up front, Margaret Xu was small and understated. She runs one of the most exclusive restaurants in Hong Kong - in Wanchai where I normally stay. It only seats about 30 and reservations have to be made months in advance. I never thought that anyone would interest me in making tofu but, after seeing her lesson, I might have a try. The only problem is that I would then have nothing to do with the resulting substance except, perhaps, offering it to a passing doggy.
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The oyster custard looked very simple to make and tasted excellent. I have lots of Chinese spoons & really should use them for serving tapas type dishes.
Her take on lemon chicken, slowly pan fried, resulted in a very delicate texture but, to my taste buds, lacked a little in oomph. Perhaps a little more lemon and ginger in the sauce would have improved it. I can well imagine trying to cook both of these dishes.
Lunch was stunning. If I have ever had a better buffet, I cannot remember it. The photos will illustrate some of the dishes but the overall quality was as good as we have been experiencing at some of the city's finest restaurants. It also offered wonderful photo opportunities, not least the ice bucket full of soft drinks. I could enter that in a competition as an abstract.
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Leaf and bean salad |
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The two white wines on offer were pleasant without being exciting. In the heat of the covered atrium, they seemed far more appropriate than the red. Luckily, whilst I had been feeling very wobbly after the first presentation - fatigue I suspect - I was a box of fluffies by lunchtime.
The afternoon's first session was a comparison of four Australian and four New Zealand wines, Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, Shiraz and Cabernet/Merlot. It was pleasant enough, quite good fun and quite informative, although the host was a little full of himself and rather got in the way of the two winemakers, who were the ones we really wanted to hear. All of the wines were tasted blind and I can only claim partial success in identifying what they were.
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Afternoon tea featured a splendid array of cakes, which I was almost able to resist. The next entertainment was then provided by Stephanie Alexander and Maggie Beer, the two grandes dammes of Australian cookery. They entertained with their battles with the induction cooker (not a good advert for the sponsors) and their relaxed back chat. They have known each other for years and were obviously well practised at working an audience.
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The food was not particularly exciting but the layered omelette cake was interesting. I would have thought that cooking an omelette and putting it on one side whilst cooking another would result in the first rapidly resembling shoe leather. This proved not to be the case and the resulting "cake" was quite delicate. Worth giving to passing vegetarians.
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Surprisingly, the fish pate, brandade, is the only dish from the whole festival that I have made at the time of writing this. (Ultimately, the mixture proved to be ok to eat on toast but brilliant when fried up as fish cakes).
The quail - something I saw more frequently over the week than at any other time in my life - was a little more challenging but it could easily be replaced by chicken thighs or similar. It appeared to prove a little too challenging for the hotel kitchen staff as some of the sample dishes brought out were almost raw and could not be eaten. All in all, it was both entertaining and informative, with the emphasis on the former. I'm sure I could have learned more from some of the other master classes.
After a rest, we all assembled in the bar and headed North in a series of taxis. Travelling was much easier than it had been last night. We arrived at a disused warehouse or factory and joined nearly 900 others for the Festival Dinner. We were welcomed by a line of waiters handing out drinks of various sorts. We then found our tables on a complex floor plan and claimed our seats. This may well have been a mistake as we missed the canapes, which looked wonderful on the menu. We will have to put it down to experience. |
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The venue suffered from a number of problems. To begin with, it was unbearably hot. The organisers didn't allow for the fact that it was going to be one of the hottest evenings of the summer. We were later told that they thought that they were going to run out of water. To an extent, they can’t really be blamed for this.
One issue that was within the organisers' control was the lighting. The food tasted stunning but it was so dark that we were barely able to see what it looked like. This did the chefs more than a slight disservice. It also made photography rather difficult.
It was very noisy but, with quite a young audience, I have to admit that my levels of noise tolerance are not the same as those of the majority. By the standards of the average night club or bar it would have been deemed quiet.
The food was stunning. The central concept was spices, not necessarily hot ones. Scattered around the room were large tables of spices and we were all given small containers of them to take home.
The ceviche was good, the whole barramundi was also good and the lamb dish, cooked by Atul Kochhar was superb.
As we were to discover the following morning at his Master Class, his use of spices is amazing, achieving exceedingly delicate flavours. Next time I am in London, I must visit his restaurant. The pudding, produced by Chris Salans who I had seen in the morning, tasted excellent but I failed to spot the spices which he had used. There were also some spectacular chocolates.
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Not long after we had taken our seats, a stupendous noise started and we were invaded by a large Chinese dragon and several large men carrying another dragon on sticks. They hurtled round the room in a series of complex dances, somehow managing not to flatten too many of the diners.
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After the fish course, a Japanese lady with a bright green parasol and an amazing hair do appeared and performed a very delicate dance.
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Following the main course, we had a troupe of belly dancers and then a fire dancer. All of these acts severely tested my photographic skills but there are a few decent photos with which to illustrate events. Once the food had been completed, most of us decided to leave the sauna and return to the hotel. The taxis were appearing in droves so we made it home in no time at all. Being a Saturday, the city was alive in the late evening but we were surprised by our reception at the hotel. |
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Immediately outside, we found several of Melbourne's fire engines with their lights flashing. No sooner had we arrived than they departed, however, there were no signs of an actual fire and nobody seemed to be the slightest bit concerned. Our rooms appeared to be undamaged so we headed off to bed.