My body has either taken inspiration from Mel’s pirates, or it’s the universe’s karmic punishment for being such a glutton. Either way, the insatiable tummy that inspired this blog is refusing all food. N’s offers of tea are now accompanied with “would you like a bucket with that?”, I don’t need an alarm because the rising bile awakes me just in time for the 6:28 tram, and my boss thinks I’m constipated because I keep running off to the loo mid-conversation.
It serves me right for spending my tax return on deliciousness instead of paying the water bill.
But it has been a week of culinary loveliness and I want to share it regardless.
Beautiful creations I have chucked this week:
- a mixed seafood grill and a
bite of A’s flourless orange and lemon cake at my birthday dinner at the Kent Hotel on Rathdowne Street. I had been wanting to eat here for ages, as the barrister I used
to work for always used to come back to the office with the remains of the
glorious meals from the Kent on his tie, and tell me tales of wild salmon,
beetroot mash and caramelised red onion gravies (not in the same dish!). But
even though our house in Carlton was right near it, M and N said it was too middle class and brought
shame to the neighbourhood, and that La Porchetta and the Dan were the only
places worthy of our custom. 
on my birthday I got my way, and it was
marvellous. They even let me squeeze in an extra guest at the last minute,
leading to a very cuddly dinner, but they’re the best ones! Minor criticism:
the pancetta pizza that D got was so doughy they should have called it a
focaccia. They have a huge wood-fired oven but they obviously aren’t using it
to make proper crispy pizzas. Maybe they have a cremating business on the side
. . .
- the oxymoronic Thai Kangaroo
Salad that I made for our friend J who manages an electrical department and
wangled us a cheap printer. 2 kangaroo steaks seared in my new frypan, a box of
halved cherry tomatoes, a red capsicum cut into thin strips, handfuls of mint
and coriander from the quasi-garden, a few roasted peanuts, half a red onion
finely sliced, and a dressing made of light soy, fish sauce, a chopped and
seeded big red chilli, some brown sugar and lime juice.
- a potato gratin adapted from
Nigella’s recipe (which involved half a litre of cream). My version: eight small
peeled potatoes cut into 1cm slices, enough milk to cover, the last bit of blue
cheese (a chunk about the size of a mini-ipod), and some grated nutmeg simmered
until the potatoes are tender but not collapsing, then seasoned and dotted with
butter and chucked in a super hot oven until golden and crispy on top.
I think I’m allergic to constructive trusts. Either way, I’m going to stick to brown rice for a while until the pirates go back to sleep.
Comments