What else is there to do on a Wednesday night?

I was looking for restaurants in Brisbane for Carla and I to try out when I stumbled upon a site that listed the top 10 as named by Gourmet Traveller. This was a little exciting and a little naughty. Dare we visit all of Brisbane's top 10 restaurants? Is that not a little bit of an overreach? Will we be initially impressed but gradually, as we make our way through the list, start to compare every nuance of our experience against the sum of what we have already done? Could I be massively over thinking this?

One thing I do know, we will spend our time whispering under our breath talking about the ambiance, service and of course, the balance of flavours. If Masterchef has taught us nothing (and there is a strong chance it has), it is we are all experts in the kitchen and we are required to spew our judgement over everything whilst making unnatural facial expressions.

So the great Wednesday night adventure begins with a new restaurant from the top 10 every fortnight. We have decided to start at the bottom of the list and work up. Based on the actual rankings on Gourmet Traveller's site, the first is Alchemy, which is listed as 9th (for some reason Gourmet Traveller can only count to nine in Brisbane and Moda appeared on the OurBrisbane.com site in the middle to make ten).

After hours of committee meetings setting up the rules (we are both accountants so what is a fun, frivolous pastime without rules?), we ended up deciding to do Montrachet first. I know this is out of order but it was Carla's birthday and she has been wanting to go there ever since she remembers so to hell with the rules.

Let the fun begin . . .

Edit: Since posting this, the website we were using that listed the top 10 restaurants has shut down. We are now using the source which is http://gourmettraveller.com.au/top_10_restaurants_by_region.htm

Unfortunately it only lists 9 of the 10 but we are including Moda, which is left off the list.

The list is:

QLD - BRISBANE

1. Ortiga
2. Aria Brisbane
3. Urbane
4. The Buffalo Club
5. Moda
6. E'cco
7. Restaurant Two
8. 1889 Enoteca
9. Alchemy
10. Montrachet

Where am I?

It as been a long time between drinks for this, my creative outlet (I am an accountant by trade so creativity is not seen as a good trait in a reputable organisation). So in lieu of making up numbers, this is where I flex the right hemisphere of my brain. Unfortunately I have let the left side take over my life of late and I have been ignoring my true calling, wasteful online blogging while drinking coffee at inner city cafes in Brisbane. So here it is again, my renewed efforts to share with the world more things they don't need (and mostly don't want) to know - but hey, that's what the internet is for, isn't it?

Being process driven by virtue of my job (or am I am in the job because I am process driven? There's something to keep the philosophers busy), I have some notes from some of our Sunday night cooking adventures from months ago that I need to get out there. Sit back with a cup of tea to read about a meal that would be considered homicide in April . . .

Roger the Rabbit Pie (17 October 2010)

Yes, we did it again and named our protein. When I bought it from my local friendly butcher, there was nothing available fresh, so a frozen rabbit in a perfect running (or hopping) stance, sans head and feet, was selected from the freezer. There was some shame in using a frozen rabbit, but the excitement of cooking rabbit was the stronger feeling. There was also no suet at the butcher but Jamie Oliver's followers to the rescue with a suggestion of frozen butter in the forums.

The rabbit was to be a pie, and we were making the pastry and all. Risky as that it, it was all about the experience, and really, a rabbit pie without good pastry is still going to taste spectacular (although Simple on Masterchef this week suggests otherwise).

We hopped into it (sorry, I had to). The meat was to braise for, well, a very long time. Maybe we should have started a little earlier. Unfortunately there was also one of those "in the meantime" moments in the recipe where Carla (or her pie cooking alter ego, Ma Peters) read that the pie filling has to be left overnight in the fridge to cool and tasty up before it is baked. Ma Peters to the rescue, with the genius move to prepare the filling, layer it on baking trays and throw it in the freezer for a while to cool it. Crisis averted (Carla would be a serene pool on Masterchef).

Now a am a huge Jamie Oliver fan but I once heard him say don't make pastry for a pie, it is too hard and the store bought stuff is a worthy substitute. This may be fine for the average home cook, but we are here to get our hands dirty. It is not just the taste that is important as we spend inordinately more time cooking than eating and that is because of the fund of the journey. So, sleeves rolled and flour out - pasty cooking was going on the CV.

The rabbit pie filling was a long braise with a number of ingredients that 7 months after the event I cannot remember, but something tells me there was cider in it, and not all of it went into the pie . . .

The pastry was not nearly as hard as we thought it would be. We also had the pie bird to direct the steam out of the cooking masterpiece and here is Ma Peters demonstrating its use.

We also decided it needed to be correctly decorated, and so there was no confusion about what it's contents were, we added a little art in pasty.

It was about midnight when we ate but it was well worth it. The pie included prunes so the rich meat and the prunes just worked and it was all held together with the secret ingredient.

Being pie night, we finished off with a pumpkin pie that I had made earlier that day. It was heaps of fun to do and I did it with baked real pumpkin, not tinned pumpkins that many recipes required. It was pretty good, but not as good as the pumpkin pie I had in the US (maybe they used tinned pumpkins).

It was a great success, with two pies and new experiences. The bonus was the food tasted spectacular.

Seafood Extravaganza

The final menu for tonight is: Oysters Kilpatrick followed by mud crab with freshly baked focaccia bread and home made lime mayonnaise. Yes, it is over the top and a giant reach, but it was sooooo worth it. I was planning to cook fresh seafood a few weeks earlier but could not find where to get it. Uncle Mark to the rescue suggesting Samies which is found on the way to the airport.

Sunday morning I made my way to Samies to check out the seafood action. Walking in, it was nothing all that special to the eye but the seafood on offer was excellent. I would love to walk in there every Sunday morning and design a menu for the evening based on what inspired me there (with the help of mobile internet - I am nowhere near creating recipes).

The muddies were there, kept in plastic crates and covered in wet hessian bags. I felt like I was doing the good work that Bob Brown was neglecting for bigger, more sexy causes like old growth forests (trees grow back)** and climate change (calm down, they're called seasons people)**. I was liberating one of these wretched, imprisoned creatures who had been mandatorily detained for no other reason than being incredibly succulent and tasty.

** These do no necessarily represent the views of the author and may have been expressed for entertainment value only. Many of the author's best friends are trees from old growth forest and carbon emissions.

I also picked up some oysters still in their shells. I wanted them unshucked just for the experience of opening them (I had bought a new oyster knife) and now that I have cooked fresh oysters, it is the only way to go as the juices are retained and make for a tastier dish. I am not sure if I can get myself to the point of eating them raw but there is still time.

So I had the muddie on the passenger seat in the car and I was on the way home. I was VERY excited that I had found a live mudcrab so called Carla. She unfortunately asked if I had named the crab which seemed like a bad idea considering I was about to euthanase it (that is fancy talk for cook and eat it). One thought led to another and our mudcrab was henceforth known as Sammy. We did no bother naming the oysters- all oysters look the same, not like our Sammy who was personality plus (And apparently oysters are nearly as close to pants as animals- or that is what vegetarian ethicists say to justify eating them).

I went home and developed a project plan (I really did). I was making 2 courses with four distinct dishes (including the bread and mayo) and they all needed to be started at different times to get them out in the right sequence. I am not naturally good at estimating times so I knew I was out of my depth with the complexity of my menu. I did make the mayo in advance and set that aside (and it was really easy - not much more than whisking oil and egg yokes).

Carla arrived and was excited by the menu, but very disturbed by the project plan. This was definitely a two person job so it was all hands on deck this week. The first order of business was bread making. Carla is the dough queen so made the dough with dazzling skill (girl job) and I was on kneading duty (boy job). We left it to rest for half ah hour. It was now time to shuck.

Armed with the oyster knife and research on how to shuck an oyster, we and channelled our inner Masterchef (but not whingy Joanne- we totally shucked better then her) and went for it.

The first one was a challenge but after that, we had the technique down and it ended up being fun. There is satisfaction in being able to pry open nature's equivalent of a mini-safe. I added the bacon and Worcestershire sauce and grilled away. They were absolutely divine. It may have helped that they were served with a chilled bottle of Verve.

It was on to the main attraction now - Sammy's time to shine. It was pretty easy to prepare - boil the whole crab and serve. The hardest part was going to be cutting it up after it was cooked and I was really worried about over cooking it. I threw Sammy in (who had been euthanased under RSPCA guidelines) and it was quite cool - crab changes colour from dark green / brown to red as soon as it goes in the boiling water. He only just fit into the pot - which was a good sign - and his claws were each the size of a car door- which was a great sign.

While Sammy was enjoying his hot bath, we prepared the focaccia. To get the authentic focaccia look, I punched knuckle imprints into the top and then we sprinkled rock salt onto it. This was all coming together nicely.

So the crab was removed from the pot and immersed in cold water to stop the cooking process. I followed a video on youtube to work out how to actually cut it up- I would have had no idea otherwise. It was much easier than I expected. The top of the crab came right off, I removed the gills and other unpleasant bits and cut it into 4 pieces. It was served on a bed of ice and with fresh baked bread and French butter (salted of course). Just as we were about to start, I remembered the finger bowl so ran back into the kitchen to get it - big mistake. I ended up slipping on some water and slid across the floor. I still have a burn scar below my knee. Carla was very compassionate . . . after she stopped laughing.

Armed with our nut crackers and insatiable appetite for mudcrab, we dived in. So how did it taste - AMAZING. We ate with our hands like barbarians and loved every second. We left the claws until last and raced to find that bit of the crab claw that lets you open and close it. The bread was great because it was freshly made (and the French butter helped as well) but it needed more salt in the dough (something for next time). There was crab shell all over the table and floor and we did not care (well, Carla didn't because apparently cleaning is a boy job).

Overall - It was so much fun to actually cook and even more fun to eat. It was a great night and I can't wait until I get to write about next week's dinner - Rabbit Pie.

This post is dedicated to the memory of Sammy who gave his life for the enjoyment of others (mostly Carla and mine).

Jamie Oliver eat your heart out

Tonight was the night where Carla took a step into the world of Jamie Oliver. Armed with a cookbook by the one and only naked chef and some fresh scallops (although she was not 100% convinced they were fresh when she bought them from a road side vendor) Carla was ready to set taste buds on fire. The dish was Scallops on a bean mash, with bacon.

Jamie Oliver is an inspiring and compelling person. Not only does he cook what seem like achievable dishes, but he does it with an enthusiasm and energy that catches you in his whirlwind. Seeing someone so passionate just can't help but inspire something in you (be that cooking or making you want to search for that inspiration for yourself).

I still remember seeing one of his TV shows years ago set in a London theatre. He set himself a challenge to cook a pizza from scratch in the same amount of time it takes to order and get a pizza delivered. He did just that, making all of the elements (base, sauce . . ). While cooking, he had a pizza delivered to the stage door and the unwitting delivery boy ended up on stage not really knowing what was going on. And not that I am biased, but Jamie's pizza did look way better.

Anyway, back to reality. On to the scallops which turned out to be fresh and tasty (and Carla was informed by Ma Peters that the vendor was well known and decent). The dish was not too complicated but because it was scallops, the magic was all in cooking them perfectly and not overshadowing their flavour.

Carla was her superhero best in the kitchen. I've identified cooking as one of her superpowers - everyone has them. Somehow she picked up a wooden spoon one day and shazam, she was an incredible cook just like when teenage Clark Kent realised he could run faster than a speeding bullet. She was roasting the tomatoes and preparing the sauce. My role revolved around the man jobs (getting stuff out of the oven, juicing lemons, mashing the bean mix and of course cleaning the kitchen- although I am sceptical that this last one is a man job, I think my good nature is being used against me).

The scallops were divine, the mash was an excellent base to the meal with subtle flavours that allowed the scallops to shine and it looked and smelled fantastic. Jamie Oliver would be proud.

We finished it off with some barbecued mangos which were a perfect match to the scallop dish. All in all, another successful night of cookery and fun.

I am a little behind on the blogging, but next time will be the amazing seafood adventure with Sammy the mudcrab and his merry band of oysters kilpatrick.

Sausages made with real meat

It was time to get out of the kitchen for a while and into a kitchen shop. I was itching for a shiny, chrome purchase which would let me make more elaborate and smug creations. I had most recently invested in pizza trays, aprons, and a pasta maker and like a supervillain who had just taken over a country, I now wanted the world.

I tried the world's largest kitchen shop (I have no proof to back up that wildly presumptive statement) in Logan just past the hyperdome. Unfortunately they had a mincer but no sausage attachments. Mince meat without the ability to get it into sausage casings was really just a rissole machine so not really as exciting. I could not leave empty handed so I picked up 2 nut crackers that came in handy a few weeks later. More to that story in a couple of posts (I'm a little behind at the moment).

I tried my new favourite store in Brisbane, Wheel and Barrow, James Street but to no avail (they were out- sad face). So I then had to creep back to my nemesis, Taste in The Valley. They have everything but are not nearly as helpful and are more expensive. They get you hypnotised with all of the teflon and stainless steel and double the price while you are in a kitchenware induced stupor. So here is my new favourite kitchen appliance. I chose the cast iron because apparently that was the better option (but because it was Taste, they could not really explain why).

I of course was giddy with excitement (much like how a primary school teen feels about seeing Justin Bieber in person. I was the second one from the right).

Now I was equipped, it was time to get the ingredients. There is an old style butcher very close to me in New Farm who always has signs for eclectic cuts of meat like rabbit (that will be for a post very soon), duck and a number of other, more obscure animals. I thought I was in for sure here. I was asked by one of the butcher staff what I was after and here is where the fun started.

Me: "Do you sell sausage casing?"

Vacant butcher guy (insert quizzical face here) "Sausage casings?"

Me: "Yes, do you sell sausage casings?"

Vacant butcher guy "Um, let me see"

So he turned around and spoke to the owner of the shop (I have no basis to say he was the owner but there was a vibe). The vacant butcher turned back to me and said "they are really expensive".

Me: "So, do you sell them to the public?"

Vacant butcher "um, yes, but it is $40 a kilo".

Me: "Can I buy it in less than one kilo lots?"

Vacant butcher: "Um, so you don't need much?"

Me still smiling at this point, mostly out of amusement at this conversation "Yeah, just enough for a small batch of sausages"

Vacant butcher: "so, like, about this much" (he made a gesture with his hands that made no real sense to me so I just said "Yes").

With that over, I bought $2.45 worth of intestines (oh yeah, the real stuff). I also picked up some good quality diced lamb. I then made my way to James Street Markets for the rest of the ingredients. I had chosen an American recipe for Aussie Lamb sausages.

While I was at James Street, I decided I did not have enough lamb. All I could see at the butchers here was lamb kebabs. I think this turned out to be a bad decision but I bought 4 of those to bolster my sausage plans.

When it was time to make the sausages, we donned our latex gloves (it may sound a little weak to wear gloves, but it was one of our best decisions . . . ever. It seemed simple enough, Carla on feeding and grinding and me on sausage casings (mostly because the sausage casings were quite disgusting and it was clearly a boy job).

It was going well for a while, that is until the meat started to come back out the top. This confused us as it did not seem like a hard machine to use. Insert meat at top, crank the handle, minced meat comes out the end. So we pulled it apart and found the connective tissues in the meat were building up on the grate that the meat goes through at the end of the mincer. This was not good news. We decided to remove the grate and rely on the passage of the lamb through the body of the mincer and hope the end grate was just there for show. It was at this point I wished I did not buy the back up kebab meat.

This largely worked, although a few chunky bits did get through. It made our sausages special. It was heaps of fun to do and I think as much minced meat made it into the sausages as made it on the floor. We served it with vegies and mash (mashed the old fashioned Young way, which involves mashing so vigorously that you nearly get lift off. I did not realise this, but it was an inherited trait as I know that is how Mum mashes and I recently had dinner with Mum and Aunty Win and Win also mashes like a madman. In this instance, I was so committed that I ended up with a mash induced blister on my mashing hand but my word was it creamy!!

The sausages were very tasty, but a little dry. The fat was feta cheese but it was not quite enough. Also, next time, I think I am going to do a gravy, and not from a box (which is what I thought authentic gravy was for my first 15 years of existence). As for the mincer clogging, Ma Peters spoke to her butcher (she looks out for us) and he said the connective tissue will block the mincer but try for smaller chunks of meat.

We finished the night off with chocolate dipped strawberries not in a toffee basket (I have tried 3 times to make a toffee basket and failure each time). There were milk, white and dark chocolate ones (and some double and triple dipped). I also made enough cream to insulate a house - still having problems with serving sizes.

For my next purchase, I really want to get an old school looking coffee machine for the kitchen for both the aesthetics and the smell it would offer to my apartment but I really don't like coffee made at home and I enjoy going to coffee shops. I am really torn because I do like to buy stuff for the kitchen. I also an considering a food processor as most most recipes seem to call for it. This is starting to get serious.

And I will leave you with a photo of one of the sausages cooked during the following week that exploded in the frying pan. If you ask me, it is the sign of a fresh sausage (again, I have nothing to back that up with).

What's next?

Just to whet your appetite, the up coming posts are going to be on a Jamie Olivier inspired scallops, a seafood feast of unimaginable mess and taste (made from a muddie called Sammy) and rabbit pie (made from a whole rabbit named Roger). Stay tuned folks.