The Brasserie By Philippe Mouchel

Sometimes you don't realise you've been craving a certain kind of comfort until it comes along and you heave a Goldilocks-worthy sigh of contentment - aahhh this is juuuuust right.

I went for lunch today with my friend Tim, who I've known since my days in England, and hadn't seen for three years. We used to spend many a day and night in London, sampling the many campy delights the gay scene had to offer, and some of the less campy ones as well. As something borderline camp, we also once went to a Vonda Shepard concert. Yes. That's right. I've been down this road, walkin' the line that's painted by pride. It was great fun. Vonda demonstrated the chicken dance, which I had never seen before (and I think neither had the largely English audience, who were as nonplussed as I was when it came time to join in).

Anyway, Tim has been in Melbourne the whole time that I've been here, but because I am totally incapable of maintaining long distance friendships except through IMs (Lolo, Evan and Fufu, take heed) I didn't know. EXTENSIVE SELFKICKING! Due to a confluence of lucky factors, however, we found out about our mutual Melbournelocatedness and decided to get together for lunch before I left.

We met at The Brasserie by Philippe Mouchel*, an oasis of fresh air and clean, bright sunlight in the claustrophobic Crown Casino (neon, tiny little yellow bulbs, and cheesily plush carpet). We picked up again as though no time had passed. The gossip, the banter, the giggles. It gave me hope that even though people change, sometimes friendships stay the same.

*Sounds a bit like the title of an 8 year old's essay does it not? "When I grow up, I will have a restaurant. It will be called The Brasserie. There will be good food. Like fish and cow and chicken. And people who eat there will be happy. And I will never dabble in molecular gastronomy unless I'm prepared to go all the way."


Good lighting is next to godliness (good food transcends religion)

It didn't hurt that the meal was flawlessly executed. Oh, the petit fours were a little underwhelming. I think they were stale. Other than that, flawless.

There are two things I learned at TBPM. First, something can be buttery, oily and creamy yet remarkably clean tasting at the same time. That thing is trout tartare. Second, I totally suck at using a cameraphone. You'll notice that all the photos of my food are blurry, while Tim's are crisp and required minimal photoshopping. Guess who took which photos. You can extrapolate about my incompetence to the interior photos, btw. Induction sometimes works.


Here's another interior photo, just because it's one of the few in focus

Returning to the theme of comfort, let's take a look at the cutlery. I noticed the unusual handle-design of the knives (and their odd orientation on the table) when we sat down.


Sure it's pretty, but how does it feel in your hand? (that's what he said!)

It turns out that the knives are much more comfortable for extended use than regular knives. You see, I use knives the "proper" way, with index finger extended and resting on the join between blade and handle (or on the blade). On a regular knife, where the handle's broad plane is contiguous with that of the blade, this becomes quite uncomfortable over time as it presses into your finger. On these knives, however, your finger rests slightly on the flat side of the handle as it meets the blade, meaning less pressure on that finger. Also, the grip is overall more comfortable, I'm not sure why.

Not that I really needed my knife for my first course (they call them entrees here in Australia, just like in France!):

Tartare of Tasmanian ocean trout, vegetable salad, mayonnaise and condiments

I came for the "Eat Local" allure. I stayed for the smooth, fresh, melt-in-your-mouth trout and the just-tart-enough potato salad (I think. I guess the potato is a vegetable) that it rested on. The little dollop of mayonnaise was just the right amount of added richness.

Tim had not ordered a first course, so we shared the tartare (which was quite a generous portion).

Here are our mains:

Mine: Roasted duck breast with braised witlof, orange vinaigrette


Tim's: Pan-fried fillet of snapper, spinach and boulangère potatoes


A shared side: Buttered potato and celeriac mash


What is "witlof" you ask? Ironically, I had to look at the French subtitles on the menu to figure out what it was. My dish's Gallic alterego was Magret de canard aux endives braisées, à la vinaigrette d'orange*. Yup, none other than that pale-leaved "let's make our salad extra posh" ingredient, the endive. This was the second time I've had cooked endive so boldly (and perfectly) presented as itself (as far as I remember). The first time was in L'Osteria del Forno in North Beach, where it was grilled with prosciutto.

*BTW I don't have some kind of supermemory or a handy notepad, I just grabbed this text off the handy online menu, which was the same at the restaurant today.

Everything was delicious. Tim noted that his fish tasted Chinese. All we needed was rice. I had some and agreed. Perhaps it was the minimalism of the flavorings along with the wok heong (which is really fancy Cantonese for the intense caramelization of the outside surfaces of food that occurs in a very hot wok or pan).

While we ate, it rained very heavily outside.

Then, an espresso break while we waited for desserts


Then desserts!

Sweet crêpes with rhubarb and strawberry compote, sorbet


Apple and calvados soufflé, honey ice cream


I think the names speak for themselves. Or maybe they don't. I'm damn tired though, so whatever they've got to say, they're going to have to do it. I will say this: both desserts were yummy, but Tim liked his better and I liked mine better. Is there any more perfect way to share desserts?

Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch

I have five working days left in Australia, and I plan to eat in style with my remaining Ozbucks.

I've got recommendations from my uncle's food journalist friend for the top five places I should eat at for lunch in the city. I'm quite excited. It's time to stop eating mediocre sushi and start getting Real.

ANNOUNCER VOICE:
5 lunches. 5 restaurants. 5 cuisines. 5 future blog posts.

The Restaurants (and cuisines)

1) Brasserie Philippe Mouchel - French
2) Yu-u - Japanese Bento
3) Mini - New Greek
4) Il Bacaro - Italian
5) Pearl - Australian fusion

Stay tuned!

Nice eggs, Ludo

A breakfast at Ludo has convinced me that there are two ways of making perfect scrambled eggs (thus resolving that ancient theological puzzle: Can there be more than one perfect being? Yes, if they are both plates of scrambled eggs).

The first way is the creamy classic, really more of a thick sauce than a solid food. The trick with this kind is to get it thickened enough to be eaten with a fork, but not so thick as to lose that sauce-like quality. In cooking school, we were taught to do this by whisking the eggs and cream constantly (but gently - you're not making a souffle, chef!) over a bain marie until we had almost achieved the desired texture, then to plate and let the residual heat do the rest - further evidence of its sauce-like nature.

This kind of scrambled egg is also a very transient form - left too long on the plate, the edges start to develop an unpleasantly tough skin, and the soft eggy curds start to give up their barely-held-in-suspension moisture and cream. The whole thing turns into a mess of chewiness and wateriness - the very antithesis of the homogenously-textured ideal. This means you have to eat it pretty quickly, and concentrate! It's hard to keep on the fork.

The other way (Ludo's way) is more a fluffier, moister version of an omelette or a quiche. I'm not too sure how they make it. It tastes like it has quite a bit of cream. It's the perfect texture for a long breakfast because since there are no liquid emulsions, no weird skin forms, and the curds don't collapse over time.

Ludo served the scrambled egg on a buttery piece of toast. I had mushrooms with sage on the side, as well as some bacon that (like Australia) seemed unable to make up its mind as to whether to be British or Californian - not quite crispy, not quite soggy. The mushrooms were beautifully done, their cut surfaces gorgeously browned, giving them that unique fungo-meatiness - Maillardariffic*. The sage leaves they had been cooked with were fried to crisp, brittle perfection - I smashed them with my fork and sprinkled them over some of the egg. Wow. A tomato would have been perfect, but I just couldn't bring myself to eat one out of season, and I certainly wasn't going to sully my plate with ketchup (which was, thankfully, not provided).

*by the way, if anyone wants to hang out and conduct the experiment from behind the link, let me know. It sounds way too fun to just do by yourself.

Ludo
118 Queen Street
Melbourne, VIC
(it's 2 blocks from where I work!)

Thanks to the Breakfast Blog for the 411 on Ludo.

Oh yes, the service was really good as well. They weren't all hovering, but my server was always there when I wanted him. My only complaint was the water - it had an odd and unpleasant stale taste, like maybe it had been sitting near something bad and picked up the smells.

Blog-Endorsement: Bacon Press

Bacon Press is rocking my world. This food blog has such a unique voice (among foodblogs, at least). Jason C. if you're reading this, his storytelling style kinda reminds me of you.

My plans for the weekend now include reading, like ALL the archived posts.

Shameless photoblogging

You know, there are certain foods that are so cheap and fulfilling when you eat them at restaurants that you never think of making them yourself. One of these things is pho. And yet, there I was, last Saturday, witnessing the creation of home-made pho. Quelle bizarre!

This is the flavorful liquid in which the chicken was cooked:


And this is the broth served with the pho (it's different!). This broth was prepared by my aunt and uncle in a large batch and frozen. It was deliciously gelatinous, sweet and beefy in a way that most restaurant broth is not.


Preparation material for pho takes up a whole counter! Of course it is sharing with the culturally diversity hire, hummus and grilled pita (And also this stuff called "mountain bread", which is this very very thin unleavened bread cut into squares).


And a pornographically close shot of the bok choy bottoms:


And my photo post is done. Sorry I don't have more text today.

Il Cantuccio

Leg of lamb stuffed with
Machego cheese and spinach
A side of green beans

Yesterday, my boss returned from lunch exclaiming the delights of THE PERFECT TACO. Apparently, she had never been exposed to the tacorifficness of El Grullense. It made think about how regionally situated food is even in this age of transnational shipping and agri-business.

I think that as we move up north to Seattle, I will have yet another void in me (right next to the BBQ emptiness since leaving Texas) caused by taco longing. Perhaps I will be proven wrong, but my hunch is no.

On the taco subject, the New York Times has an audio feature about the "Taco Trail" in California. Why was I not informed about this magical trail before?!

(Editor's note: It is a travesty of technology that Blogger's spell check does not recognize "BBQ" as a word.)

Food-type Product

In the spirit of Ming's post about food conservatism and bad food aversion, I'd like to see how folks respond to this thought:

Is it better to eat food-like products for sustenance than to eat bad food?

For example, today I opted to eat a Clif Bar rather than go to the EA cafeteria. My rationale was that the Clif Bar will not register as "food" in the food-judgment-region of my brain, whereas the cafeteria food would be recognizable enough, but be utterly bad, so as to cause a "bad food experience."

Memories of Foreign Food

I got a great care package from John today (THANKS JOHN!!!), and it made me realize that sometimes eating (or contemplating eating) something from miles away can remind you of another place, also miles away.

Proustianically (Proustfully? Proustically?), the stage was set for this memorific realization by a cookie, or biscuit.

After my delight with the easy peasy lemon slice that I made with my cousin last week, I decided to solicit chowhounders' simple and tasty dessert recipes (listen to me, "simple but tasty", I sound like one of those awful "open two cans of mushroom soup" recipes). As part of my request, I posted the recipe for lemon slice, which included crushed Marie biscuits.

This was one of the replies:

Mingerspice, where are you located? I've only seen Marie biscuits in South Africa. I'm sure most chowhounders don't know what these are.

The thing is, I too grew up with Marie biscuits, and I associate them with my childhood in Malaysia and Singapore (although I was aware they were available in England as well).


photo from A Nice Cup of Tea And A Sit Down

Marie biscuits were quite a treat - I used to dip them in hot milo and, quality biscuits that they were, they then had the perfect texture - not so soft as to fall apart, but soft enough to melt the moment you took a bite. I had thought that, like most "luxury" confections I had growing up, they came from England. This assumption was true for such brands as Cadbury and the Marks & Spencers sweets (that's "candy" in American).

It turns out I was only partly right.

Marie biscuits - a brief history

I found a note on this geocities webpage about Marie biscuits' history, taken from another website - Tienda.com, a Spanish food retailer (I note the geocities webpage refers to the Marie biscuit in its preamble as a "cookie", using American English):

A vendor of foods from Spain relates this history of "the Queen of all Cookies":
"In 1875, the Grand Duchess Maria of Russia married the Duke of Edinburgh in a festive wedding, which caught Europe's fancy. To celebrate the occasion, a small English bakery in England created a sweet new cookie with Maria stamped on the top. Its popularity spread throughout Europe. Most of all, in Spain it became the nation's favorite cookie -- 40% of all cookies sold in the country.
Marias were first produced in large quantities in Spain around the turn of the 20th Century, but it was not until the Civil War that they became an integral part of the national culture. The long harsh years of the war plunged Spain deep into poverty, turning even a simple loaf of bread into a luxury. When the war ended in 1939, the nation's top priority was for every Spaniard to have enough bread. The wheat harvests were so plentiful that the bakers turned out huge number of cartons of Marias to consume the surplus. In those days, every cafe had a plate of Marias on the counter -- a happy sign of Spain's recovery."

There's a food history drenched in blood for you - created for the nobility of two European colonial powers, and then apparently a sign of celebration after the triumph of Franco (!).

I've seen them in the U.S. as well, in Ranch and/or other Asian groceries. Another reply to my post on chowhound noted that the poster had seen them "outside every Bodega", which would make sense given its hybrid English/Russian/Spanish heritage and history (ah, the fruits of colonialism). I wonder if they're available in the Russian food shops I've seen around the Bay Area.

All this is in aid of me noticing that a food doesn't have to actually be from a country to remind you of that country. Which leads me to Ritter Sport.

Ich bin ein Ritter SPORT fan!


Yes, they are made in Germany!

I've never seen Ritter Sport anywhere except California. Specifically, I first noticed them for sale at the Milk Pail market in Mountain View (a fabulous place to shop for food, btw). In fact, I don't recall encountering German food products in general anywhere except the U.S. Perhaps the Commonwealth countries (where I've spent most of my time) are still smarting from World War II and harbor a residual anti-German bias.

Whatever the reason for their absence in other parts of the world, I've come to strongly associate Ritter Sport chocolate with California. The characteristic square wrapper; that gratuitously masculine "SPORT" font (the irony of calling a chocolate bar "SPORT" is an endless source of amusement for me); and its surprising heft (it's much thicker than most other chocolate bars, certain Cadbury bars excepted). It's all Californian to me. As I've heard Ella croon - these foolish things remind me of you.

But when was your first time?

I don't remember the first time I ate Ritter, but I do remember back when I was living in Palo Alto, going to Milk Pail for some vegetable I needed for a meal I was making (possibly celery - I never have celery when I need it, or maybe it was bread?), quite annoyed at myself, then impulse-buying a Ritter bar, and eating the whole thing on the drive home (not a very long drive). Actually, perhaps I was going to Brooke's house for a party - as fun as those are, interacting with new people can cause anxiety and chocolate-eating. Or maybe I was driving home after work and was stressed out. Wow, this might not be a very pleasant memory after all. Well, the chocolate made it all better. Yes.

Side/Endnote: To all the amateur psychoanalysts reading this, does Ritter's obvious butchness (thick, square, SPORT-y, German) mean that I think of California as male? And does its patent campiness (thick, square, SPORT-y, German) mean that I think of California as a leather queen? Or perhaps the square shape is an active avoidance of male signals, since most chocolate bars are, well, long bars. After WWII, maybe these German chocolatiers didn't want to make phallic candy that would signify aggression? What would Freud say? What would Proust say? What would Butler say?

Wow, this has really turned out to be two posts in one (I spent way longer on Marie biscuits than I'd anticipated, but as I did research on them they turned out to be a bit more interesting than I thought they were, and I felt I had to share). Thanks for getting to the end!

Can I keep up the neologisms? Read more...

70,686 Square Miles of Delicious

photo from Brett L.

Hello FewdBlawgers, I'm excited to join your ranks. I know my old personal blog never really got off its feet, but Mingerspice thinks I'll be a better blogger in this, a communal blog setting, and with the shared passion for the subject. We'll see.

Anyway, much is known about the unrivaled culinary Xanadu that is Google. In addition to Google's great stock options, Google employees receive a slew of benefits from laundry rooms to concierge services. They even have a ball-pit (like at Chuck E. Cheese), but the perk that I am certainly the most jealous of is their famously good food prepared fresh by their very talented chefs. My boyfriend has worked there for the past 8 or 9 months and is constantly making me green with envy as he rattles off lunch after lunch that makes my company's cafeteria food seem like pig slop. Actually,... it sounds head and shoulders above many of the restaurants that I frequent. And to add insult to injury, it's free! He probably wouldn't come home for dinner, if I didn't like food as much as I do (though I hear the dinners there aren't quite as good as the lunches). He'd probably grab a to-go box and eat dinner on the free shuttle that drives him home every day. No, I'm not bitter at all.

He's actually quite sheepish in reporting the amazing lunches that he's always having, careful to let me know about those rare cases where the food is only tasty and not exquisite. And he invites me to have lunch with him constantly. So yesterday I finally took him up on the offer. Why did I wait so long? Well, partly it's because I only drive to work very rarely. (Normally I take the train. BTW, today is a "Spare The Air" day!) And the other reason is that Google seems a bit far, and while, my office is pretty flexible on the whole "working hours" thing, I'm enough of a slacker that I don't want to seem like I'm always taking a long lunch hour. The good news is that it only took me 14 minutes to drive to Google, so the time pressure thing isn't really that big of an issue.


Cut to the chow:

Dave and I ate at Cafe 150. The name comes from the fact that everything served there is grown within 150 miles of the cafeteria. Yay local produce! I tried to load my plate with as many different things as I could in order to sample from the entire cornucopia of goodness that was there. I tried the trout almondine, the meatloaf, the root vegetable pot pie, the green beans, the broccoli carrot salad, the chicken salad, the mashed potatoes, and the vanilla-macerated strawberries and peaches. (Sadly even tiny portions of many things add up to a full plate very quickly. I think if I worked there I would have to check the menu before lunch just to make sure I didn't miss some gem that was hidden among all the other tasty things, which might finally be encountered with a full plate. Well, I guess it's all free, but I'd feel guilty about wasting good food... or gorging myself which is what I'm sure I'd actually end up doing.)

How was it you ask? AMAZING! The trout almondine was so succulent that I nearly started drooling just now thinking back on it. It was tender and rich and fresh tasting. Not the least bit over- or undercooked. And certainly not at all dry the way one might expect fish sitting in a cafeteria setting to become. (They serve relatively small plates of each dish at the counter which have a very quick turn over.) The green beans stood on their own, a dish of simplicity and a testament to the freshness of the cafe's ingredients. I was a tiny bit skeptical picking up the root vegetable pot pie. When I saw a Googler pass me holding a pot pie I knew I must have one, but I did not expect to find them hidden over at the vegetarian station, and I certainly wasn't expecting to have to exchange my visions of gravy smothered chicken for gravy smothered turnips. However, despite my disappointment at finding the dish was meatless, I'm glad I picked it up anyway. It was quite possibly the best amalgamation of root-vegetable flavors I have ever had, and I will certainly attempt to recreate its earthy goodness at home, with my Eatwell Farms Tokyo white turnips in the near future.

I took the chicken salad, which I don't normally like, because it looked rather different than any chicken salad that I had ever tried. The difference being that it had quite a lot more chicken than normal and it was really more of a main dish than a side. Lightly dressed with just enough mayonnaise to turn up the richness of the chicken and a few little bits of things to give it crunch, it was clearly the dish that my mom's chicken salad hopes that it might one day grow up to be. (Sorry mom, you know I adore almost everything else you make.)

They used a very brilliantly yellow carrot in the broccoli carrot salad, which made it beautiful on the plate (hardly any onion too, which was good). The mashers were also quality. The only thing that was a bit of a let down was the meatloaf. Its flavor packed quite a punch, but the texture wasn't quite there. It was a little too fine and homogenous and not really meaty enough. I suppose if I had had it in another context I wouldn't have had reason to complain, but in the middle of all the other fantastic dishes, I found it a bit lacking.

Not usually one for desserts, I went for the fruitier of the two, expecting the local produce to win out over the more processed Carrot Cake, and I'm glad I did (though Dave reports that the Carrot Cake was not to be trifled with... get it? "Trifled?") A minimal amount of fruit and cream atop a faintly sweet and rather crumbly biscuit was the perfect little ending to a wonderful meal.

So the upshot of all this is that I now know exactly what I'm missing when my boyfriend tells me how amazing his lunches are. But I also know that I'll be heading out there to eat at Cafe 150 again soon.

(Sorry I didn't bring my own camera, guys. I'll try to next time. Check out Brett L.'s Flickr page for pictures of more googlefood. The presentation is not amazing, but you'll at least get an idea.)


Here's the entire menu for the day at Cafe 150 (is there a way to hide part of the post from someone who is just a casual reader like you can on LJ?):
Vegetarian
**Tofu Lentil Loaf
Tofu and brown lentils blended with onions, celery, carrots and oats topped with toasted almonds served with mushroom gravy
*Root Vegetable Pot Pie
Golden turnips, celery root, carrots and onions stewed, topped with puff pastry and baked till golden brown
Sides
**Steamed broccoli
Main Course
Classic Meatloaf
Ground beef, veal and pork with onions, celery, tomato paste, eggs, bread crumbs baked and served with mushroom gravy
Open-faced Turkey Sandwich
Free-range turkey breast roasted, served on a slice of bread with mashed potatoes and gravy
Trout Almondine
Fresh rainbow trout stuffed with lemons, pan roasted and served with a toasted almond-parsley brown butter
Sides
*Mashers
**Green Beans
Tossed to Order Salads
Fill out a Ticket
Composed Salads
**Zucchini Corn Salad
Fresh zucchini and corn tossed with lemon juice, onions,
parsley, red bells, pine nuts and olive oil.
*Broccoli Carrot Salad
Fresh broccoli and baby carrots tossed with a julienne
red onions and apple-honey mustard vinaigrette.
Chicken Salad
Grilled Chicken tossed with celery, onions, thyme, carrots, mayonnaise, mustard and walnuts.
Soups
*Creamy Broccoli
Organic broccoli, yellow onion, shallots, cream sherry, white wine, cream, lemon zest
Beef and Torpedo Onions
Grilled hanger steak with red wine, reduced balsamic vinegar, red torpedo onions, veal stock
Desserts
Carrot Cake
w/ toasted walnuts, pineapple & white chocolate cream cheese frosting
Vanilla-Macerated Strawberries and Peaches
Served with a light and airy vanilla biscuit

Read more!

A Tasty Brew

During my year of good beer, I've been increasingly sensitive to the lack of acceptance of beer as a "foodie" delight. In my biased opinion, beer is unique in its ability to draw rolled-eyes and comments of "it's all the same" from otherwise discerning individuals.

Lately, as big box breweries have expanded, small craft beer and microbreweries are starting to pop-up to fight this scourge. These small operations are the equivalent of the small farms starting up to compete with the agri-behemoths. Along with this resurgence comes a wealth of choices in beer--many that will surprise you.

So, in the hopes of evangelizing beer to the otherwise uninitiated among us, I am spreading the delicious, yeasty word. Onward to the recommendations!

For the "beer tastes like pee" crowd:

Samuel Smith's Nut Brown Ale

My ratebeer.com blurb: "A delightful example of the brown ale family. The nuttiness is deliciously accentuated with this one. Pour into a good mug, enjoy the perfect head, nutty aroma and you’re gold."

This is a good starter-to-the-world-of-craft-beer person. It eases you into a more complex experience, without overwhelming. This style of beer is a good "gateway beer" for those who also cannot enjoy hoppy bitterness just yet.

For the "Guinnesss is the best stout" folks:

North Coast Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout

My ratebeer.com notes: "A beautiful pour with a dark, almost black body and milk chocolatey looking head. Intense flavor of chocolate and anise. Very strong, very flavorful."

This beer will change your perception of stouts if you are used to having only Guinnesss. The beer pours thick and completely black. Drinking this is a delight that can be reserved for dessert.

For the "beer can never be as complex as wine" snobs:

Rochefort Trappistes 10

Ratebeer.com description: "The top product from the Rochefort Trappist brewery. Dark color, full and very impressive taste. Strong plum, raisin, and black currant palate, with ascending notes of vinousness and other complexities."

This beer truly crosses over into the "fine wine" arena. It has amazing complexity and aroma that require repeated tastings to truly appreciate. Like wine, it has a pretty high alcohol content, so this is not your six-pack drinking brew.

And now, What would Evan drink every day given the opportunity?

St. Bernardus Abt 12

Ratebeer.com info: "The absolute top quality in the hierarchy of the St. Bernardus beers. It is also the beer with the highest alcohol content (10.50 %). A dark ivory coloured beer with a high fermentation. The show piece of the brewery. Thanks to its soft and unconditionally genuine aroma, the beer can be smoothly tasted. The Abt has a very fruity flavour."

Oh, St. Bernardus, let me opine to you. This happy monk has created quite a gem. I would not encourage everyone to snag one right away as it'll take some palate-training to appreciate. But oh, what joy once you are there.

----

I encourage everyone to run out to the store (you can find most of these at either BevMo or Whole Foods--my apologies to those in foreign lands... it's probably not as easy for you) and get a nice cold beer--but not too cold, as it ruins the subtle flavors and aromas! And even if you aren't close to the U.S., I encourage you to find the craft beer in your neck of the woods. I know that almost every country has micro-breweries hidden amongst the international beer giants.

Also, checkout Craft Beer Radio for news and tasting notes. Listen to one episode and tell me, how can you resist?!

Food and Race

This is International Blog Against Racism week, and fewdblawg is getting in on the act! How can I participate too, you ask?

1. Announce the week in your blog.

2. Switch your default icon to either an official IBAS icon, or one which you feel is appropriate. To get an official IBAS icon, you may modify one of yours yourself or ask someone to do so, or ask oyceter to do so as she has agreed to make a custom one for everyone who asks, or go to her LJ and take one of the general-use ones she put up (which is what I did).

3. Post about race and/or racism: in media, in life, in the news, personal experiences, writing characters of a race that isn't yours, portrayals of race on TV, review a book on the subject, etc.

I actually heard about this week from this post over at reappropriate. Although she thinks that we should be blogging about racism all the time, I think it's ok for a food blog to do it a bit more rarely.

Wow that was a long preamble.

I was watching a news/current affairs program yesterday (I'm in Melbourne at the moment), and they were saying that 1/3 of Australians still think that immigrants are a "bad influence". "On what?!" exclaimed my aunt indignantly. Luckily the program framed this attitude as the problem (rather than immigrants themselves), and talked to some community organizers about how they were combating the stereotypes and hostility to immigrants.

One of the activities they mentioned was getting together for cross-cultural eating. "Food is a great way to get to know new people" said one organizer (or something like that). Which got my little overeducated mindwheels spinning, refusing to let me have that warm fuzzy racism-is-being-solved feeling:

1) Is this true/effective? Mexican and Chinese food is pretty damn popular in the U.S., but racism and xenophobia against those two groups is still pretty prevalent. Perhaps it has diminished over time, but is that really due to food?

2) Even if it is true, is it problematic that the way for (presumptively white) citizens to accept foreigners is to literally consume a part of their culture?

3) Also, where the immigrants are Asians, does this play into the stereotype of Asian immigrants just being able to be cooks and cleaners?

What do people think?

Chicken hearts

The skewer on the right has grilled chicken hearts. Yes!

No, this post is not about eating chicken hearts. However, I did not take a photo of my actual experience, which is why I yanked the above from this excellent slashfood post by Sarah Gim.

This post is really about my chickenheartedness.

I'm referring to my fear of trying new restaurants (I'll save the discussions of my other fears for another time, another blog). Really, I could have called this post "navel gazing", but where are the fun food photos for that title? If you know of any culture that specifically eats navels (and has photographs of said navels) I'd be interested. Actually, do other animals even have "outie" navels that one could eat? Can one eat an "innie" navel? I'd even settle for a photo of a dish made of umbelical cord.

Right, enough about navels. Back to my fears.

Despite my foodie-leanings, I am afraid of going into a restaurant without either prior recommendations by people I trust, or a good review from at least two or three reliable sources (let's face it, even Zagat gets it wrong sometimes). I'm also afraid of ordering stuff in a new restaurant, and even ordering new stuff in a familiar restaurant, again, unless someone recommends something to me or I hear about it from a reliable source or two.

In fact, I am an all round food conservative when it comes to restaurant choice and ordering. If I were a single issue voter (and if that issue were food) it would be GOP/Tories/Liberals all the way. In order to highlight this fact, every time I notice myself say something neurotic & conservative in this post, I shall write "neurotic & conservative", or some appropriate variant thereof, in bolded red font. Like this: (neurotic & conservative).

I say that I am this way "despite" my foodie-leanings, but in fact this fear is in part because of my foodie-leanings, coupled with my general risk-aversion. It is because I put so much importance on having tasty food that I fear going into a restaurant and having something bad. I feel regret about it for hours, days, weeks, afterwards. Also I usually tell everybody I know about my bad experience in an attempt to exorcise it (sometimes I even blog it), so it's tiresome for all concerned.

Today, however, I went into a new restaurant that I hadn't heard of before, hadn't looked up beforehand, and in fact, hadn't even thought about going to until I walked past it on my way to another restaurant and thought hey, Singaporean food! Why not, eh, mate? I didn't actually think the "mate" part, I was just trying to give some Australian flavor. I didn't actually think the "eh" part either, I was just trying to give some, umm, Canadian flavor. In fact, I didn't think any of these words specifically, I was just (neurotically) trying to give y'all the gist of my thought process, brief as it was.


I put this photo here because I thought this was getting too text-heavy. Gross, huh?

Anyhoo.

The restaurant's name was Singapore Chom-Chom (I think), and the one feature that it had to recommend itself was that it was packed. I was somewhat disheartened when I was handed the menu, which was an incredibly long list of dishes. My general (neurotic & conservative) rule of thumb is the fewer dishes there are on the menu the better each dish will be - plus, the less I'll have to wonder about which other dishes I should have ordered if mine turns out to be crap.

I was already in the mood for soup noodles (I had been heading to a good ramen place, Ajisan - recommended by my cousin and already visited conservatively twice by me), and so I limited myself to the soup noodle section of the menu. There were still a neurotically daunting 25 dishes or so. I finally settled on chicken laksa, figuring (neurotically & conservatively) that it's hard to mess up something with coconut milk in it, and deliberately avoiding the regular laksa, which had shrimp. That is another (neurotic & conservative) rule of thumb - avoid seafood in new restaurants.

So they got my order wrong and I ended up having the regular (shrimp) laksa. The shrimp was, as I had neurotically but correctly feared, not too fresh, and overcooked. Fortunately, there was only one piece of it. The rest of the bowl was packed with chewy noodles, earthy beansprouts, sweetly brown deep-fried pork skins, springy fishcake and juicy fried tofu puffs.

Ooh, I feel a bit like Patricia Unterman (she of the long lists of adjectivized nouns).

The service was efficient, if a little bit rushed. The place stayed packed well past the lunch hour, so it was totally understandable. In the end, the bill came to only A$8, which is about US$6. Leaving a tip is not expected in Australia and, conservatively, I didn't.

An added bonus - because the place was packed and people were subtly encouraged to eat and go, there wasn't much lingering and chatting, which made me feel (neurotically) like less of a loser for having lunch by myself (just me and my New Yorker, which, because of the importedness, cost more than lunch).

So overall, I conquered my neurosis and conservatism, and I had a good experience at a new restaurant near my work.

I think it is fair to say - WOOT!

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Phil'z Coffee

I <3 Phil'z Tesora Coffee. I know it has got to be that scoop of brown sugar and yummy cream, but it's a tasty blend. Even the fu liked it, and he's not a coffee drinker.



The barista told us that newbies to Phil'z had to start off with this beverage. He then went on to make each cup individually. (He loved these photos btw!)









The store keeps a big bunch of mint on the counter so that they can add some minty freshness to each cup. I actually didn't think one leaf would impart that much minty flavor. Maybe they tucked some extract into the mix when I wasn't looking. But it was nice--not overly minty like a stick of gum, but just enough to be seductive.



On our second trip, Fu and I tried different coffees. Fu went for their iced coffee which he seemed to enjoy. I got the Phil Harmonic as the barista explained that it had cardamom (my favorite spice) in it. I was seriously dragging that day, so I got a large. Of course this was also the day I ate raw/live food at cafe gratitude, and man, that coffee hit me like no tomorrow. I was seriously buzzed in that nauseating-head-pulsing-palpitating-dizzying way. No more larges for me. The harmonic was yum, but I enjoyed the tesora more. Next time, I'd like to try the ether.

I guess the only thing that bothers me about Phil'z is that they use a 'z' instead of an 's' in their name. I suppose since I haven't met Phil, I can't really tell if the 'z' fits... he may be a lil' bit gangsta', so I'll let that be.

Eat This with Dave Lieberman

This is a pretty smart show. Also Dave is Teh Hawt. There are 13 episodes, all available online. I think Dave is the male Rachael Ray. I'd like to see him posing in his underwear next to a sink full of suds. Mmm.

Here's the show.

Cheese cake

Not content to have merely one lemony dessert, I decided to make these mini cheesecakes as well. The recipe comes from my aunt Vinita. I used one of those silicone baking tins (is it appropriate to call it a tin, even though it's not even a metal?).

A long time ago, when I cared about dieting, I remember reading that if you have things in small portions, you are less likely to overeat. Does that count if the little cheesecakes are so tiny that you can eat four or five at a time? I'm trying to regain my fat lost to fever. I can see my ribs, for gods sake.


The silicone tin.


The finished product, with citrusy garnish.

Vinita's Cheesecake

The filling:
500g cream cheese, softened
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla extract
zest and juice of 2 lemons
Cream together the sugar and cream cheese.
Incorporate the eggs one at a time.
Mix in the vanilla, lemon juice and lemon zest.

The base:
200g cookie crumbs
60g butter, melted
1/3 cup warm water
Mix together.

Press base mixture into the bottom of muffin tins.
Divide up the filling. I actually didn't have quite enough filling to go around, so I might halve the base mixture. It should make about 12 muffin-sized cheesecakes (I ended up with 18, but like I said, the filling was thin on the ground).

Unbaked Goods

My cousin doesn't cook, but she makes a mean dessert. Following hot on the heels of Lori's raw food post, here is my own "raw food" story - not really raw, of course, since we used condensed milk, marie cookies, and pasteurized butter. I'm fast becoming white trash.

The process is simple - mix everything together. The order isn't especially important. After that, mix up the icing (we were so lazy we didn't sift the icing sugar - no ill effects noticeable), and ice. Stick it all in the fridge, then cut into squares and serve with lemon. If you're feeling fancy, some earl grey tea might be appropriate.



Lemon Slice

1/2 cup condensed milk
125g. butter
250g crushed marie biscuits
1 cup dessicated coconut
Zest of 2 lemons

Heat condensed milk and butter until butter melts.
Mix together crushed biscuits, coconut and lemon zest.
Mix together wet and dry ingredients.
Press into a square baking sheet.

Icing:
1 3/4 cup icing sugar
3 tbsp lemon juice
15g butter, softened
Zest of one lemon

Mix together all ingredients.
Spread on the cookie mixture.

Cafe Gratitude

We brought in the vegan cheese today. Remarkably, after sitting out and straining it in cheese cloth over night, it actually tastes more like cheese! The plain actually did develop a cheddar like flavor! So F'son's name and mine should be in acknowledged when their cook book comes out... hurrah!

Speaking on Cafe Gratitude, I suppose I should actually post about our trip to eat lunch there last week. We sat at a community table with 2 other folks we didn't speak to the whole meal (which was a bit awkward... I'm normally friendlier at communal tables... meh oh well)

We sat down at colorful muraled tables and were immediately given glasses with hemp cloth napkins and an inspiring bottle of water. Ours said "worth"


the close-up fu had me take


Now take a look at the menu. You have to get past the inspiring names to enjoy your meal... I ordered the I AM CELEBRATING which was their daily special. It was cucumber noodles with a yummy vinaigrette and stuff I can't remember, over salad. It also came with some amazing sunflower crackers with some sort of spread (now I think it was one of the flavored cheese spreads... having made some myself now).



I ate it all... so scrumptious! (i liked this photo on bay area bites... so i'll bite their photographic idea)


the fuster got the I AM ABUNDANT sampler plate with live nachos, kale-sea veggie salad, stuffed mushroom, olive tapenade, live hummus, and a mini Thai coconut soup. Served with assorted live crackers and almond toast. It was an amazing array of raw food. Delicious too as the fu generously (perhaps the gratitude stuff was rubbing off on him) shared a taste of everything on his plate.
If you come here for the first time, I'd definitely recommend getting this dish.


Seriously though, the live crackers are the bomb. I may have to seek out a dehydrator in Seattle just so I can make these things!

We also split an I AM GRACE Frosty coconut smoothie with young coconut milk, almonds, dates, and vanilla. Fu really liked it. I thought it was a bit rich, but I've never had a smoothie quite like it. So yes, you should try the smoothies.

Okay. I will later blog about the Burmese restaurant Fu and I went to today... it was still crowded around 1:30p and we got to eavesdrop on the old peeps next to us talking about Rachel Ray.

vegan cheese making

Fu just left after we made two quick batches of vegan cheese. Vegan cheese basically consists of soaked cashews, red miso, coconut oil, salt, and water.

While I tried to be a good food blogger and ensure that there were photos documenting the process... unfortunately, vegan cheese is not a pretty adventure... it's actually a rather bland photography subject.

Judge for yourself

Begin with wet cashews in a blender. Then blend with all the other ingredients until you get a smooth consistency.


hang in cheese cloth


I wanted to get a pic of the funani trying the cheese, but apparently, I missed that moment...

Anyhoo, it really doesn't taste like cheese... it tastes like... miso. So we're hoping after draining for a night, that it will taste more like cheese. Our first batch we left plain, but the second batch we flavored with cumin.

Tomorrow we bring it all back to Cafe Gratitude for the manager to taste how we did...