March 13
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It was quite cloudy outside, although the forecast suggested that it would soon heat up again. As I was going to be inside all day, it didn't much matter. Breakfast was reasonably light, smoked salmon, scrambled egg, spinach and tomatoes, and was a reasonable preparation for the day's planned excesses. |
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Atul Kochhar was the highlight of the day. His main course last night whetted the appetite and his presentation didn't disappoint. He has the sense of humour which seems to typify the educated Indians living in the UK, slightly self-deprecating but bitingly sharp. He spoke excellently and offered all sorts of useful information on the care, use and maintenance of Indian spices. Some of this I already knew and some I didn't. The true test will be how much I am able to recall in a few weeks' time.
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One of the main lessons was that spices should be roasted separately in the pan as they all take different amounts of time. The pan should be extremely hot and most spices will be ready in only a few seconds. It's no wonder I tend to burn mine!
He cooked a roast poussin and grilled prawns, both delicately spiced and apparently easy to do. I won't know until I try.
After another interlude for coffee and pastries, the next session was with George Calombaris and his Mother. Unbeknown to me, he is one of the stars of Australian Masterchef and the presenter, Matt Preston, fulfils the same role on the TV show. As a result, the whole class seemed to me to be more of a celebration of celebrity than of Greek food, which is what I was hoping for. My loss, I suppose, as everyone else appeared to be happy. It was pleasing to see that he used New Zealand whitebait in one of his dishes. |
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The watermelon sweet turned out to be candied watermelon peel. It was very nice in small doses but I suspect a large lump would be very sickly. It was slightly alarming to discover that the recipe involved considerable quantities of builder’s lime.
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I was also interested in the cracked wheat pies - mince beef encased in pastry made from cracked wheat, spices, flour and water. The texture of the casing was very interesting. Ultimately, I felt that I was in the studio for a session by the Australian Women's Weekly rather than of a serious cookery class. Sadly, this was probably my least favourite event of the series.
Lunch was amazing again. Different from yesterday but full of vibrant flavours and colours. I don't think it was quite as good as yesterday but it was still excellent. The atrium was searingly hot so I gave up on that idea and located a sofa in an air conditioned section of the hotel. There, I sat in comfort and wrote up my diary.
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The afternoon session commenced with a tasting of Portuguese wine. Friends of mine have since told me that there is some very good Portuguese wine around. It didn't make it onto this tasting. Most of what we tasted was a mediocre quality but high prices. The whites were all inferior to the much despised Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc (much despised by the same presenter as yesterday, that is.) The reds weren't much better. One was interesting but, at over $100 AUS it was wildly over-priced.
After a flight of whites and one of reds, we had a flight of fortified wines. One Madeira, one ruby port and one LBV port. They were a different matter, absolutely delicious and well worth enduring the other wines for. It did make me realise why I don't normally drink Portuguese wine.
While we were in the afternoon session, the lunchtime sunshine had been replaced by heavy rain. Our plans to reach the evening's restaurant might have to be revised.
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Rosa Mitchell was a sweetie. Her session got off to a bad start as the previous one overran by about 15 minutes, leaving the audience champing at the bit outside the doors. The first thing we found when we entered was a glass table in front of the stage, around which sat four older ladies - making macaroni. It transpired that they were Rosa's Mother and three of her aunties. All looked like traditional Italian mothers - until they spoke. All sounded like Shane Warne!
The macaroni would traditionally have been wrapped round thin reeds but, in their absence, thin knitting needles would suffice. They spent the duration of the master class rolling, chatting and, occasionally answering questions fired at them by Rosa.
The central ingredient of the class was ricotta, not the most exciting of cheeses but central to Italian cuisine. We learned how to dry it for varying periods of time in order to make it suitable for frying or, ultimately, for grating to use like Parmesan. The process is very simple, sprinkle the cheese with salt and then leave it in the oven at the lowest possible temperature overnight.
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Ideally, it should then be left on the window sill in the sunshine during the day to continue the drying process. This stage might not work well in New Zealand or the UK! It is normally better to buy large lumps of ricotta from a deli as the small tubs tend to be too moist. All of this looked very easy to achieve at home.
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The rolled stuffed beef was spectacular. It used a cut with which I am not familiar - girello - which appears to be a name mainly used in Australia. Research indicates that it is an eye of round, a cut that I think I can find in my local butcher without much difficulty. The alternative was a boned shoulder - but a shoulder of cow would appear to be an alarmingly large cut of meat! |
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Stuffed Sicilian beef roll - Carne farsumagru |
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I wasn't sure about stuffing it with hard boiled eggs and, after the tasting, I'm still not convinced. What was most amazing, however, was that the rolled joint was cooked on a hot plate and yet was as tender as if it had been stewed for several days. Something else to try at home.
This being the last session, I retired to my room for a long rest. Enjoying ones self can be such hard work. I also had to start packing as tomorrow's departure was to be at a horribly early hour.
At 6.30 we assembled in the lobby and discovered that the rain had stopped so that we were able to walk to our destination and set off across town in a long crocodile - just like a primary school outing. Given that it was nearing 7 pm on a Sunday evening, the city was very busy. Even the large stores were still open.
After about 20 minutes walk, we reached the Flower Drum and were ushered up a long flight of stairs, through a large dining room and into our own private room at the rear of the building. Luxury was definitely the order of the day.
At this stage, I have to admit to being slightly disappointed with the meal, particularly as this was the best Chinese in Melbourne. We were offered amazingly expensive produce but the end results seemed to lack the colours, textures and subtle flavours of some of the other meals that we had eaten during the Festival. I longed for some crisp vegetables to add texture or some stronger use of ginger and spring onion to accentuate the other flavours.
The service was the equal of anything that we had experienced. Being a left handed eater, I have often wondered if this created any issues in the Chinese culture as it probably would in some Middle Eastern ones. This instantly resulted in one of the waiters rushing to my aid and shuffling everything around. We were also given an extensive tour of the kitchens afterwards.
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We started with King Island crab dumplings. These were small and delicate and served in splendid isolation. The crab, when we were introduced to one of its cousins, was not. Think large pussy or small doggy and that will give an idea of its stature. Quite a terrifying sight. Some of the party claimed that it waved at them but I didn’t see it.
The abalone had a few bits of greenery accompanying it and was somewhat more delicate than the paua we encounter at home.
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Sliced jade tiger abalone from Indented
Bay Victoria, wok tossed with spring onion & served in its shell
with oyster & shrimp sauces.
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The crayfish did have some colour but, yet again, really would have benefited from some crunchy textures - a few sugar snap peas would have been ideal.
The same applied to the duck and the suckling pigs - poor little things - stretched out on their table for all to eat.
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Hand roasted milk fed suckling pig,
with crackling served at the table with sweetened bread pancakes and
carved at the table.
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The Wagyu beef was accompanied by spinach, a vegetable noted for its colour but not its texture. Previous meals seemed to do amazing things with ordinary ingredients. This one did more ordinary things with amazing ingredients. I am possibly being a little hard. I may have been tired and jaded after a week of exceptional food. I'm not sure. I would love to come here again to try a more routine menu to see how the food compared with the simple restaurant I frequent in Soho. The fruit platter contained everything that some of the other dishes lacked - colours, textures and flavours. An excellent mix of fruits. The custard tarts were also good. |
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At the end of the meal, we had our end of tour speeches, exchanges of greetings, promises to come again next year, etc etc. I certainly hope to do that!
Tony, wearing his Festival Organiser's hat, asked us all to express our views on what we had enjoyed and what we hadn't. Inevitably, the former outnumbered the latter by a considerable margin. We all had a few moans, normally about relatively minor things, but I think that we had all had a wonderful time. We toasted both him and Ruth for looking after us so well and the restaurant staff acted as photographers for the group photos.
With the early morning alarm creeping ever closer, we fled for the hotel and bed before midnight.