- I have posted the trailer for Massimo’s Theatre of Life before, but it’s recently available on Netflix (and it still gives me goosebumps). You should watch it.
- SproutX, an Aussie ag tech accelerator program, held their inaugural shark tank type pitch day last week(ish). The winner was Farmgate MSU a mobile abattoir. This has been practiced successfully around the world – last year at Parabere Forum I heard the incredible Britt-Marie Stegs talk about the system they had set up in Sweden. This is important. As ag gets bigger, and local abattoirs disappear, or become specialised for specific production in the hands of few (I have even heard of abattoirs being purchased simply with a view to shut them down, and consequently the competition), we need to find smaller solutions. Tammi Jonas and her family are exploring options to build their own, Burrawong have one for their birds, but these are the (very rare) exceptions. Sadly, these poor people only won $500 (that said, by simply being included on the day they are part of a $40,000 start up program) … and, it’s a start, right?
- For more on this, and plenty of other thoughts beside, check out the program for the Slow Meat Symposium in Daylesford this September.
Postcards from Pantelleria:
This week, Melbs have announced new smoking laws, following the path of Sydney-siders. The smoking I can deal with, but, as we well know, it's a slippery slope (#keepsydneyopen and all that). It got me thinking. I love Melbourne, the laneways, the relaxed atmosphere, the cosmopolitan vibe. I mean, smoking is terrible for you, but a little leniency can't go astray.
Here you drink where (and when) you want, smoke where you want, live how you want. In fact, Pantelleria is largely an unpoliced island. People don’t wear seatbelts (don’t worry Mum, I still wear mine). The party starts at 1am and goes through until 5 or 6 in the morning. RBTs are rare. You don’t lock your car (actually if you park at the port, you keep your keys in it, so if someone needs to move it they can). People are relied on, trusted, to make good decisions. I'm not going to sugar coat this, there are drugs, there is smoking, people drink (and likely drive) but somehow it works.
The island's magnetism makes for an interesting motley crew. Last night I had an argument with two pirates about the virtues of respect over love. They quoted poetry and then created their own while describing the happiness that comes from soaking a little bread in the roasting juices of meat.
I have made a friend, Velasko, a gorgeous six-year-old who takes me fishing and teaches me Italian. Today, when he arrived at my café his Dad sent him over to kiss me hello (he starts every day a little shy and warms up to our friendship) and when he proffered a cheek and then returned to his Dad’s side, his Dad sent him back to kiss me. Two kisses, the Italian way, one that you give and one that you receive. I had never thought of the double kiss like that. The pirates say you only get as much respect as you give. It's the same with kisses. How beautiful.
Velsako's life is how I imagine Gerald Durrell’s. He lives 100m from his Dad’s restaurant and floats (like me) from restaurant to bar to café to the port, where we swim. Everyone looks out for him, it’s a real community. An unpoliced one. And yet it works. People generally do the right thing when they’re given a little respect and freedom.
When I first arrived on this island I mentioned how they all live in the present. Today I discovered that their local dialect has evolved so far as to not include a future tense.
And so, from Gerald to his brother … and this beautiful quote I found in Elizabeth David's Mediterranean Food:
“The whole Mediterranean, the sculpture, the palms, the gold beads, the bearded heroes, the wine, the ideas, the ships, the moonlight, the winged gorgons, the bronze men, the philosophers – all of it seems to rise in the sour, pungent taste of these black olives between the teeth. A taste older than meat, older than wine. A taste as old as cold water.” – Laurence Durrell (Prospero’s Cell)
A taste, and a lifestyle, as old as cold water.
The week that was (27 July 2017)
- There was a wonderful article about Bruce Pascoe in Saveur, you may (should) know his work, particularly via his book Dark Emu – “To Pascoe, food and agriculture are tied to acknowledging sovereignty, and may also create a pathway to reparation for an ages-old culture that thinks of land in metaphysical terms, not as mere real estate.” Hear, hear. I also loved this: “‘We were such great astronomers, because we knew the sky so well. Europeans stare at the stars, but aboriginal people also see the spaces between, where the dark emu resides.’ Perhaps that’s how Pascoe knows to look at an overgrown field on the edge of an airstrip and see a loaf of bread in Australia’s past—and another in its future.”
- On the topic of Australian terroir, I have just finished reading The Cattle King, a book looking at Sir Sidney Kidman’s influence on Australian pastoral traditions. There was much in there about the land we have foolishly ignored, trampled over or let go. "In the old days the creeks did not run so fast nor flood so easily. Now so much top soil has been washed and blown away that the creeks had silted up. Only the hard surface of the earth was left. The rains, now, just ran off this hard crust into the silted creek. In old days much of that rain would have been absorbed by the topsoil. And the saltbush and grasses and shrubs and trees which then bound the topsoil together would have flourished and carpeted the earth with rich feed for stock." The book, beyond a fascinating tale of adversity and triumph, looks at the impact of sheep and rabbits on Australian soil, both eventually destroying "... the scanty binding that held the last of the soil together.”
Kidman was a fascinating man, with a respect for the traditions of the land and our unique terroir, but, perhaps most of all a respect for the water. Many of his lessons on this front were learnt from the original custodians of the land. The long cycles of drought and floods, the chains of land that would shift with the long seasons. There is a lot we can all learn from from Kidman (if you haven't read the book, you really should): generosity, charity, waste, terroir, respect. It is an excellent read about an Australia I know too little about.
- I have now moved on to CEW Bean’s On the Wool Track, where the impact of sheep on our is further explored: "This delicate country responds like a piano to whatever touches it." Bean asserts that Australia was one of the first lands to rise from the ocean, I'm not sure about this (anyone??) but I have spent some time trying to understand why our soil is considered among the oldest on earth. My understanding is that Australia missed an ice age 20,000 years ago, meaning we missed the opportunity to shed a skin that most other land masses had. If any of you know about this, please do let me know. I'm fascinated.
A parting thought from Bean: "The sheep carries the evidence of every separate paddock into the woodshed." Meaning that, like a tree's rings will tell the story of its life, so too can a lock of wool. Nature is incredible.
Postcards from Pantelleria:
In an effort to understand Australia's unique and complicated terroir I have long been intrigued bythe different seasons attributed to the land by Australian Aboriginal nations - in some cases up to six seasons were traced each year. Winds, migratory patterns and plants all played a role in the distinction. Of course, over the wide country that is Australia, this makes considerably more sense than the cookie-cutter British/Euro model.
The winds are crucial to life and agriculture in Pantelleria. Last week it was the hot Sirocco wind that ravaged the island, carrying the dusty, dry air of the Sahara. Today the Mistral blows, rattling down the Rhone Valley, gathering speed before it shoots out over Provence (recently causing untold damage in wild fires that ravaged my old home town near Bormes-les-Mimosa) and then across the Mediterranean to the black pearl, my current volcanic island home. I have learnt the island is like a magnet, for me it is all attraction but apparently for some people it can be an equally strong repellent.
I have mentioned the distinct lack of water here, which is exacerbated by these winds, but I have not yet mentioned the red water tankers that careen around the tiny island roads. A little out of place, a little Mad Max, they are in charge and have complete right of way. You hear them before you see them, honking on approach to any corner. It is your responsibility to get out of the way ... you want to do it quickly. The inhabitants respect for these trucks and the water they bring is something Kidman would have understood.
Beyond the winds and the water, I am captivated by her rugged beauty and her warm inhabitants. I have been enveloped into the daily life of my local bar and now eat family meal with them every day - a lot of pasta, a lot of capers. Interestingly, the sea only forms a small part of the local diet. The wild winds play their role in that too, beating the ocean up against the cliffs, but it is also to do with the steep volcanic walls that continue under the ocean; the small fish have no protected habitat and instead it is the deep-sea fish you find on menus. But there are ricci di mare. I'm doing just fine.
The week that was (21 July 2017)
I only want to talk about Strodie this week. His way of being and the things he cared about represent a lot of what we discuss in this missive each week, a lot that is important to the industry, so today we'll do it through the eyes of Jez.
Plenty has been written about Strodie's immense contribution to the cooking of our country (see BI, SMH, GT). From pomme to MG Garage and Bistrode, his culinary legacy looms large. One of the original Brit pack, Jez brought those traditions and sensibilities with him and wove them into our culinary tapestry. British influences, French technique with Australian accents paved the way for a new, simplified, but no-less lauded bistro dining. I have included some pics of his old reviews below for those wanting to take a walk down memory lane.
When Jeremy and Jane opened Bistrode in an old butcher's shop Surry Hills it was a revelation. His cooking had a lightness of touch and, above all, a respect for the ingredients. They won best bistro in Sydney two years later. Bistrode (later Bistrode CBD) have held a hat in the guide every year since. Simon Thomson, ed. of the Guide in '07, said: "Strode was ahead of his time in offering clean, unfussy and bold flavours and secondary cuts of meat and offal at a time when the city was still in the thrall of fine dining and degustation." He removed the gilded cage and paved the way for the simpler, yet sophisticated, bistro dining we love today.
Strodie was particularly instrumental in bringing offal to our tables. Of course, eating offal is about much more than the taste or the mental barrier, it's about respecting the whole animal. Fergus Henderson is the poster boy for this kind of eating in England, Jez played that role in Australia. As Anthony and I drew up a list of the people we needed to talk about the meat book we only had one name alongside offal: Strodie.
On a human level Jez was a supporter. He was everyone's supporter. He always had kind words. He embraced the next generation and looked upon them with encouragement and excitement. He was a mentor to many. I wonder if there's a greater compliment to anyone than to be considered someone's mentor? I wonder if there's a better way to view your career than to think about how you share it with the generation who come after you?
A prolific 'liker' on instagram, you felt his support wherever you were. In person, he took time to say it. For me, it was his support of the words in this missive, but I also had the pleasure of watching him at soft openings, at new restaurants, in the kitchen, with the chefs. He was proud of everyone, he was proud of our industry. It is for that reason you will have seen #thetruth on instagram. The chef's chef, he was god father to many.
His support delved beyond the visible and, in 2015, Jez pulled together his R U OK? dinner. He gathered chefs from all over, Australia's best, the crowd testament to his friendships and the high regard with which everyone held him. Strodie was quoted: “The hospitality industry is renowned for its unforgiving nature, adding pressure personally and on our relationships. Having the foresight and taking the time to have a conversation with someone you may or may not know and asking if they’re ok, is a wonderful thing.”
There is still so much for everyone to understand regarding mental health and depression - both in and out of our industry. Building awareness and raising money for research is paramount in that. Jez clearly understood that. In lieu of flowers, the Strode family have asked for donations to be made to R U OK?.
I recently watched Samuel Johnson's interview with Anh Doh. He lost both his Mum and his girlfriend to suicide. I wept watching it, but felt his sentiments were so beautiful. Johnson said (about his girlfriend): "Maybe I lost her earlier than I would have liked, but I had some of her, I got to share my life with her. You don't always get as much as you want of everything, and you don't always get as much of your loved ones as you want. But you get them, don't you?"
From Jez we learnt respect - of the animals, the produce and of the people around us. We learnt the importance of kind words and support in a gruelling industry. We learnt that there are also struggles beneath the surface and that the only way to tackle them is to bring more awareness. He has gone, but his legacy will live on in all of you who knew him and, I hope as well, for those of you who didn't.
A mark of the insidiousness of this disease is always the beauty left behind. All my love is with Jane and his boys this week.
The week that was (16 July 2017)
- Will Studd wrote an important story about the demise of the traditional dairy herd in cheese production and the importance of choosing farmhouse cheeses. In Italy, Studd states, “Over the past 50 years, it has lost five cattle breeds and about half its traditional regional cheeses.” He also makes mention of the “Camembert wars,” a recent battle won by the producers to ensure all Camembert is made with at least 50% from the Normande breed cows’ milk. Breeds are important, no fundamental, for biodiversity. We need to fight to protect them.
- Richard Cornish’s article in the SMH this week was also very important. He was talking farming, marketing, labelling. It’s a jungle out there. “The way meat animals actually live and die can be remarkably different from the images depicted by marketers. It's a divide so wide that some see it as a lie.” Cornish walks through four farms to tell his tale, from beef, pork, lamb and chickens. He also provides a very handy fly around of a few key producers down the bottom. I have seen Bruce’s flock of chooks. They are incredible.
- Every year I watch the gatherings of the Deep Winter Agrarians with more than a pang of jealousy. The ever-impressive Tammi Jonas shared her thoughts on FB, while quoting another: “Here I look at positive change. At clean local food. At ecological and regenerative approaches, short food chains, carbon drawdown, reduced food miles, better food access, and a break from the dependence on fossil fuels, poison and synthetic fertilisers. These folks get it!! Nutrient density over agricultural intensity.”
- Lizzie took a look at the female influence in the food industry, beyond the pass. She raises a very good point. Food is not just chefs. This could also be extrapolated out to include front of house, co-owners, etc etc. For those in the industry looking for a little support, check out the Women in Hospitality Mentor Program. Their first event is July 24.
Postcards from Paris:
I'm keeping this one brief. There is much to do today. I'm drinking all the wine, eating all the cheese and dancing with all the firemen. Vive la France!
The week that was (10 July 2017)
- The SMH tackled women in wine. Sofia Levin gave a good account of the issues at hand - and there are many. Personally, I believe every industry is better off with balance, that is balance across the board (in gender, in age, in personality types). Parenthood is obviously a difficult point to navigate, of course women should be welcomed back into the workforce post birth, but it would also be nice to see the burden of childcare/sick children/early pick-ups etc equally expected (by the employers) of Mums and Dads, thus meaning that women with children and viewed as the same in the workplace as men with children. That, my friends, is equality.
- The Oz are preparing to drop their list of Hot 50 restaurants next month. Lethlean announced this along with his take on the other awards out there. He was particularly scathing of the AFR awards: “It’s a system, I guess, an approach with a point of difference, and it provides the all-important marketing tool of numerical ranking, 1-100. But because it’s about chefs nominating favourites, it’s a system that asks you to believe a restaurant like, say, Hobart’s Franklin is better than Sydney’s Bridge Room. Or that Melbourne’s Tipo 00 is better than Cutler & Co. Or that Saint Peter in Paddington, Sydney, is better than Cirrus Dining down at Barangaroo. Rubbish propositions, all … I counted 65 I’d eaten at in the past two years; three I’d never been to at all.” An interesting admission given the brief for his own awards ("a national snapshot of what’s hot in dining around Australia right now").
- Myffy penned an insight into the judging for the Josephine Pignolet awards along with the list of this year’s finalists (congratulations to you all!). It was a great article. “I learn more about what's happening in the industry sitting in on that panel one day of the year than I do interviewing 100 head chefs. And I think that's because there's honesty, openness and a willingness to share that isn't a result of media training, or driven by a need to self-promote. It's a completely raw insight into what is actually affecting young chefs on the front line.” And her big take-out? Mental health.
- In fact, there were a few interesting articles about mental health, behaviour and the potential causes in our industry this week. The NYTimes had a story on Sean Brock’s recent decision to put down the bottle. It tells an important tale of substance abuse, high stress and the physical and mental ramifications of a life left un-checked. (“Mr. Brock wasn’t the kind of chef who drank during work, but he was often the last man standing at the end of a night saturated with Budweiser and Jägermeister. In some circles, his name had become a verb. After a long stretch on the line, one cook might look at another and say, “Let’s get Brocked.”)
- In Barcelona last week the 50 Best talks continued with “Food Forward: Visions of Gastronomy.” The panel was made up from past number ones. A few take outs below:
Joan Roca: “'We need to make the next generation feel comfortable that they’re not sacrificing their lives.' Gastronomy is moving 'from products and techniques to people, from science to awareness and conscience.'” Hear, hear.
Massimo: “In the future, he said, 'there will be chefs who know more about soil and farmers who know more about taste' – and there will be universities dedicated to it. But where were the farmers at the event, he queried?”
Adria: Also talked about the importance of preparing future generations however, for him, it's about preservation of knowledge. He's in the process of writing a number(!) of tomes on the topic.
Rene: took the opportunity to talk about his new foraging app – Vild Mad. It’s free to download, but is focussed on Denmark. His hope is the idea will spread around the world. They will be holding a foraging day on Sunday the 27th August, which may or may not provide a clue for the date for this year's MAD.
- Locally, the Orana Foundation have announced a partnership with The University of Adelaide. Their collective goal (from Jock Zonfrillo): “To create the first ever comprehensive database building on past and current knowledge from a wide range of sources will, I hope, allow many more people to access and share these rich food sources of Australia.”
Postcards from Deauville:
I have spent the past week en famille in Northern France. We were there to commemorate the death of my great-great-grandfather. He was killed in "The Great War" 100 years ago. Of course, there is nothing "great" about war, but seeing all those graves, all that destruction, it was impossible not to also look at the people around me, my family, and feel my heart swell. I think we would have done Holmesy proud.
Beyond the history lessons (for which we had one of the best in the business, my Dad is a military historian), we cooked, we ate out, we drank, we indulged. The markets were incredible: sprightly bunches of herbs, the heady perfume of stone fruit and strawberries, stacks of raw milk cheeses and saucisson, tangles of samphire, and then there was the seafood - buckets of sweet petit bouchot mussels, oysters, twinkly eyed fish - particularly turbot, I love turbot.
Having now farewelled most of my blood-relations (and their incredibly patient partners), I'm back in Paris staying with the beautiful home of the Frenchie fam I was lucky to adopt while on exchange at 17. I am in my element with a list of restaurants as long as my arm, streets to wander, people to watch and wines to drink (yes, yes, and a book to write).
The week that was (29 June 2017)
- This week came with the very sad news that Darren Simpson has died. As you will all know, Simpson was a loveable rogue, a funny man. He was also an incredible chef, perhaps best known for his time as head-chef at the River Café, his CV is beyond impressive. You may want to read Terry’s obituary, I chuckled at: “the usual merry-go-round of celebrity appearances, KFC endorsements, and Facebook feuds with Colin Fassnidge.” For the nostalgia, you may also read Simon’s very lovely review of La Sala.
- Alain Senderens of L'Archestrate also passed away this week. One of the god-fathers of modernFrench cooking - that departure from the heavy reliance on butter; the first to introduce glass-by-glass wine pairing; and mentor to many, including Alain Passard, whose restaurant L'Argpège is on the site of L'Archestrate's original.
- GT have released their hot 100 food trends for 2017. I'm not a fan of 'trends' but I am a fan of the GT team, they do a lot of getting it right - this list is no exception.
- Case in point, with the eloquent Paulette Whitney penning a note about the pitfalls of ‘trends’ in the same publication. “By all means, please hang on to the trends that do good. Buy fair-trade chocolate - as a farmer, I'm right into living wages for other producers. Choose free-range animal products - as an animal myself I can vouch for the joys of movement and sunshine. And bring your own basket to market, then you won't have sea turtles mistaking plastic bags for jellyfish, and you'll look so great riding your bike home with your "I liked this kale before it was cool" bunch of greens whipping in the wind, declaring your antipathy to passing fads for all the world to see.”
- The Fin Rev had a wrap up of their Top 100 awards, in part the predictable extension of the event, highlighting the producers and (Star) restaurants that provided the food, but it was made interesting with a couple of figures from our old mates at Ferrier Hodgson and the ABS on the state of dining in Australia. Their prognosis is good, with “… figures show food entertainment is now outpacing spending on general retail (which is everything except groceries).”
- The WSJ looked at food waste with the help of Bottura, Redzepi and Bourdain. Listen in, it's important.
Postcards from Sicily:
I have departed Pantelleria for an interlude on main(is)land Sicily. Arriving in Trapani, I drove from one side of the island to the other, an incredible, if perilous, drive that took in much of the northern coast and then cut across the mountains to Etna. The danger was mitigated by the beauty as the winding track opened out to vast highland fields, where I shared the road with goats, cows and thousands of butterflies. The wild flowers, too, were everywhere, the air thick with the most astonishing perfume.
I am staying in Taormina, a beautiful coastal town, currently somewhat over-run by an odd combination of Eddie Vedder fans (he was playing a concert in the ancient amphitheatre), and those here to attend the Toarmina book festival. We dined in an excellent local restaurant in the old town, a delicious pasta with urchin and bottarga under a cloud of jasmine and, as the last in the restaurant, a little impromptu tinkling on the ivories by the owner.
Yesterday we traded the rocky beach for Etna's northern hillside. Paollina's pasta with bitter wild weeds at Il Dragone di San Giorgio was incredible, so too her rabbit stew with capers, olives and tomatoes. If the mob had turned up, they would have been right to take the cannoli. We chased this with a visit to Frank Cornellison’s vineyards, the vines sharing their terraced hillside with fruit trees and flowers, and a few drinks at the very excellent Cave Ox for good measure.
The week that was (22 June 2017)
- Last week, I mentioned Max’s article in GT regarding natural wine. I, rather optimistically, asked if we were done questioning it. If you read the feed at the bottom of Ed Charles’ post on FB, the answer is no. But I’m done. Drink what you like. Drink what you enjoy. Don’t judge others for their choice (this one, perhaps, is directed more to the natural wine consumers than the others, it’s time to get off that high horse, if you want people to stop judging your choices, you need to also stop judging theirs).
- That said, I do not plan to stop banging on about the importance of great soil: for our fruit and veg, for our wine and for our future. Did you know that soil is one of the greatest sequesters of carbon? Covered, protected and loved, good soil could be our saviour.
- This article on Chateau Le Puy, in Bordeaux, was beautifully written on the topic. “A true biodynamic farm must be a polyculture, made up of not only diverse crops but also untended wild areas, where beneficial birds, insects and mammals live. This biological diversity theoretically creates symbiotic relationships on the farm in which pests and diseases are kept in check naturally rather than through artificial means … Worms, microbes and bacteria weave passages in the dirt permitting the roots to plunge deep into the limestone bedrock, which he said contributed elegance and finesse to the wines.”
The wine is made in Bordeaux, a region perhaps due to its worldwide repute (read marketing clout), has very few options in the biodynamic, minimal intervention genre. Rather than a holier than thou diatribe, this one just harked back a time now gone: “’My grandfather was too stingy to buy chemicals,’ Mr. Amoreau said. His grandfather, he said, was influenced by André Birre, a mid-20th-century agronomist, who urged farmers to look after the health of their soils and recommended methods not unlike biodynamics.”
It also gave me another wonderful word to join terroir in my repertoire of French words that are missing in English: “Digestibilité begins with deliciousness, but it also indicates wines that are easy to drink without weighing heavily in the gut. It’s an immediate, unmediated pleasure that nonetheless may be complex and contemplative.”
- All this may also help answer the question as to why we don’t have tasty cucumbers. “I can’t shake the thought that keeping our senses awake to which foods are the most edible is a basic part of being human. This sensory awareness is how omnivores stay alive. A watery cucumber causes little damage, except to make a salad bland. But what happens when we stop recognising bad food when it is right in front of our noses?”
- Meanwhile, back in Oz, it appears the ACCC have done what they do best and created a new ruling that puts many of Australia’s dairy industry at a loss. The proposed change to the country of origin laws state that dairy farmers can not say 100% Australian made if they are using imported cultures (read, almost all cheese and yoghurt makers - for .003% of production). Instead, while their cheese may be 99.99% Australian, from the flock to the cheese making, they are required to nod to the next tier, 95% Australian made. This, when you can put “made from Australian and imported ingredients” on a vegetable you have imported, sliced and put it in a bag. I am guessing this is what they're trying to clear up, but the baby and the bathwater come to mind. And, while we're on labelling, how about some compulsory ingredient lists on wine bottles?
Postcards from Pantelleria:
It is said, in Sicily, that they only live in the present due to their tumultuous past. It’s not hard to conform to the mentality. After five days in London, where I did not once visit an ATM, a slightly disconcerting entrée into the cashless world we are embarking on, I am comforted to find in Sicily cash is still king.
I am staying on Pantelleria, where the sun shines and the wind blows, but thanks to the incredibly fertile soils, the wine is delicious, the capers salty sweet and the oregano better than I have ever tasted. The tiny island, a volcano in a previous life, is out in the middle of the Med, closer to Tunisia than Sicily.
While the land looks tough, there is water in the soils; after a sunburnt day, the plants draw on her reserves, sparkling fresh with dew each morning. The houses are huddled close to the earth, just like the olive trees that grow with their branches clinging to the ground, they are no higher than your waist.
Rugged, gritty and moody; the olives are joined by caper bushes, wild oregano and grape vines. The fruit trees cower behind rock walls, built with the black porous stones of the island; the houses, too, are built with these stones, their gentle whitewashed domes (designed to trap the water) contrasting the dark walls. There are no street lights, and no moon right now; there are so many stars. In the sunlight the Med is azure, alive with fish and urchins. I have to be careful not to tread on these urchin families as I pull myself out of sea after each dip (just about my biggest worry right now). In the sky the swallows play - like the stars, the more you look, the more you see.
I hear Pantelleria was not always this sleepy. In the ’70s and ’80s it was the summer playground of Armani, Carole Bouquet, Depardieu and their entourage of glitzy friends. To accommodate the glitterati, hotels sprung up, high above the houses, as the locals with dollars in their eyes, left their small Tunisian-inspired homes to cater for the masses. Unfortunately, swept up in the excitement, many also left their plots of land - where 90% of the island was under cultivation, it is now estimated at a mere third of that. When the tide turned, the hotels were deserted, they now stand empty, lonely sentries to parties long gone.
That hasn’t dented the Pantesca spirit, the people are warm and welcoming, as is so often the case with a land ravaged by the weather. When I got lost on my first night, trying to find my way back to my home, a gentleman with his wife at his side said if I did not find my way their table was set for three. At the next, the guy actually got in his car and drove with me to find my way.
It also appears the party spirits have not left either. Each winter, over the two months from January 1, they hold a nightly party, rotating private homes, where they dance until the sun comes up. Every night. Until 6am. For two months. I like it here. I think I might stay for a while.
The week that was (15 June 2017)
- I'm generally sceptical of the pre-show hype interviews, but this week I thought some of MPW’s responses made for interesting reading. His take on consistency was thoughtful - less thermometer, more temperament: "Be punctual, be disciplined, stay focused, and you will deliver consistency. Emotions are for the bedroom, not for the kitchen." (Can we please leave "passion" in there too?) I also liked his advice to soak your pig trotters, not blanch them, so as to loosen the skin. Oh, and my favourite: "Great chefs, such as Alain Passard, have this underlying understanding of food and nature. They know that their job is to cook it and not mess around with it." Yep. There were plenty of other thoughts in there, some, perhaps, a little old-school, but valuable none-the-less.
- Unless, that is, you're Victor Liong, who penned a diatribe regarding how the "good old days" were actually not-so-good. It was a little predictable in its disruption. While I wholeheartedly agree we don’t need the yelling, I fear for the romance of cooking and celebration of nature that his scientific approach to food implies. Some of the best chefs and cooks I know are those that cook with touch, intuition and an intrinsic understanding of the produce. Food is no more perfect than any human – and that imperfection is what makes it so spellbinding. It may require for everyone to be a little more relaxed with what they get at the table, but I know what I (along with my bf above) I would rather.
- According to this article (which I found surprising), the amount of meat we consume per person has barely changed over the past 30 years - we still consume approximately 110kg of meat / person / annum (2kg a week, an awful lot, really). However, it is the type of meat we eat that has changed, dramatically. Chicken has stopped being the special occasion feast and we also eat way more pork. It is no fluke these are both predominantly industrially/factory reared animals. The article puts this shift down to two things: the impact of marketing (take, for example, the “other white meat" campaign with pork); and the impact of price (obviously the more intensively reared, the cheaper the protein becomes). But to what value an animal? Should 1kg of chicken really be that much cheaper than 1kg of beef? And do we really want our protein grown without variety, without seasonal variance and without a connection to the soil, the grasses, the outdoors? You are what you eat. But you are, in turn, what you eat, eats.
- This one for the “vineratti,” with another look at the state of play in our wine scene, and another argument regarding "natural" vs "conventional". Are we bored of this chat yet?? Again, the m-word is raised. ("They’re a marketing dream all the way to the top of the industry’s peak body, Wine Australia, as it seeks out excitement in an often jaded consumer landscape.") On topic, Max Allen also took natural wine for a little spin through the GT pages - a cursory glance at a few of his favourites.
- As a gauge of the industry, you may want to read the wines chosen for the MW test this year. For me, it was the accompanying questions, perhaps more than the wines, that gave me pause to consider: “Discuss the commercial potential (of a certain wine)”; "Who would buy this wine?"; or “Consider how the winemaker has sought to retain the wine’s sense of place” (ok, I love this one!) The ambiguity alongside the rigour, oh my.
- And back to chefs and restaurants, albeit with another familiar theme - that of the chef worship. More specifically "a roving club of people waxing poetic over their ability to shamelessly indulge one another. The amazing thing is how successful these chefs and critics have been in creating a cottage industry wherein consumers like me actively choose to live vicariously through them. I’m not immune to their charms. I love food, which means I also love me some food porn. I watch Parts Unknown. I eyebang the pretty photos in Bon Appétit.” Some very fair points and a good article, but eyebang? Really?!
Postcards from London:
- Peas, the sweetest, most delicate, little, peas, fresh from their pods - they're everywhere and they're beyond delightful: at Lyle's classically paired with (Ticklemore) goats' cheese and herbs; at P.Francothey balanced stewed borlotti beans and anchovies; but, perhaps best of all, at Rochelle Canteenthey were served unadorned, all alone, still in their pods, as a pre-lunch snack. The weak pound is somewhat helping to soothe these indulgences.
There was also a morning spent at Guildhall Library, where Elizabeth David's cookbook collection and her accompanying annotations have been archived. There's something about seeing someone's handwriting, their errors and edits on the page, that is so personal.
So, penmanship, peas and a weakened pound ...
The week that was (8 June 2017)
- I enjoyed the Fin Rev's story about Gayle and Mike Quarmby, who have tackled the issue of getting indigenous ingredients into our restaurants and onto our plates. The premise for their business, in part a tribute to their son after his death, was to put the pride back into the outback – a lovely mission. They are now producing up to 40 tonnes of 25 different Australian native plants, fruits, berries and vegies a year - no mean feat, dealing with produce that has never been tamed in the way our ag is. The article finished by listing five indigenous plants to try at home, unfortunately starting with the crystal ice plant, which, while prolific, I understand is not actually native.
- I also stumbled upon the obituary of Fred A. Kummerow today. Kummerow was a scientist who spent most of his life arguing against the inclusion of trans-fats in our modern diets (the “hydrogen-treated oils used to give margarine its easy-to-spread texture and prolong the shelf life of crackers, cookies, icing and hundreds of other staples”). It was a war he waged, almost single-handedly for 60 years. “Interviewed for this obituary in 2016, Professor Kummerow said that in the 1960s and ’70s the processed food industry, enjoying a cozy relationship with scientists, played a large role in keeping trans fats in people’s diets.” That's one we still have to watch. Two years ago Kummerow's fight was won and the FDA announced a ban on trans-fats in food production, effective 2018. It may take a while, but great things can be done with one voice. You know you're leaving a pretty good legacy when you're being interviewed for your own obituary.
- Remaining with small voices and big ideas, the Adelaide Review ran a look at The Food Forrest, a local farm teaching permaculture principles. “Permaculture is a way of thinking, behaving and designing as if humans were going to live on earth for thousands of years more. Unusually, its design principles are based on ethics rather than raw productivity or profit.” I have been thinking a lot about this while traversing the country researching the book. For more on the same topic, you may like to read Joel Salatin’s “profitable permaculture principles.”
- If you can work your way through the terrible puns, you may also like this little story in Orlando about turning front yards into "farmlets". As we continue to ask the question of how we can bring the small lots in to urban areas, bringing the food closer to the people, this is a rather delightful solution. Looking at the recent tree-lopping in Queensland, we could certainly take a leaf out of their book (sorry).
- With so many big issues at play in the world, the celebration of food and wine, culinary culture and, indeed, conviviality can seem fickle. Justin Davidson wrote an interesting critique of Pete Wells’ lack of critique (and justification for the omission) of Noma Mexico. Wells was critical of the cost, scornful of the cultural implications and suspect of its short-time frame. Davidson, to my mind quite successfully, argued against that. “No critic can know what another diner brings to the table or an audience member to a concert hall, what vicarious joy - or scorn - a reader draws from a review.” When done well it's an art form. He's right that, in and of itself, is reason to celebrate - perhaps a celebration that is even more poignant in the ugliest of times.
- And so, I enjoyed Bonné writing what could almost be described as a pre-eulogy for NYC “ur-wine bar” Terroir. “... wasn’t much different than the patois a lot of restaurant people already used to talk about wine when customers weren’t listening; they saw wine not as a luxury item but as something as culturally meaningful and crush-worthy as their favorite band.”
Theirs was a push beyond straight consumption: “What set Terroir apart more than anything, though, was that aesthetic Grieco and Solomon finessed … Grieco filled the list with essays in the spirit of Hunter S. Thompson. (On Austria’s Heiligenstein vineyard: “Vineyard workers still attempt to tame this outcropping of Middle Earth, accompanied by geologists looking for a rationale and prostitutes looking for Eliot Spitzer.”)” Food, words, wine, design. The astute among you will also note the reference to one of our own "ur-wine" bars - Love Tilly (incidentally, just crowned Australasia's best in The World of Fine Wine).
- Conversely, what is all this carry-on about “millennial pink”? Perhaps the millennials were not yet born when the sanitary bins were the same colour. Apparently, it’s a thing, particularly in restaurants. I'm not convinced it should be.
- Finally, my apologies. Last week I forgot the link to the mousy wine story. It’s here.
The week that was (4 June 2017)
- A couple of our reviewers had a bit of a crack at the ingredient lists as menu descriptions over the past fortnight. The Fin Rev did too, but have hidden it behind their paywall. It’s an interesting question – the evolution of menus is interesting. Bizarrely Gaggan writes his in emoji, so as to make it universal. What is the world coming to?
- I’m pleased to see so many media publications jumping on the War on Waste bandwagons. The SMH article looked at seven of the best people tackling the problem in Australia and abroad, while Letho looked back to campaigns of yesteryear. There’s a lot to inspire, and some bandwagons are built to be laden. Harris Farm have removed the packaging from their organic section (this needs to happen across the board – nature does not need plastic straight jackets). To that end, also read this great article from the NYTimes about advances in creating natural packaging from food waste: mushrooms to replace cardboard, milk powder to replace plastic. Excellent.
- And then, there’s this woman, doing the most incredible things on the other side of the world. Selina Juul is almost single-handedly credited with reducing food waste in Denmark ... by 25%. A big part of her thinking was to change the bargains for bulk into bargains for singular purchases (bananas sold with a “take me, I’m single” sign). “Food waste is the lack of respect for our nature, for our society, for the people who produce the food, for the animals, and the lack of respect for our time and your money.” Yep.
- Personally, I would like to see a little more doggy bag suggestions at the end of meals too. Imagine if the “still, sparkling, tap” diatribe was bookended with “would you like me to pack up what’s left?” Asking for left-overs is not about being tight, it’s about rescuing food from the bin.
- And here’s one to stir up the wine makers – a discussion about mousiness that can be found in natural wines. There were some interesting points raised: “‘Once detected, the taint renders the wine undrinkable and worsens in the glass, but as many as 30% of winemakers are unable to detect it.’ That last statistic is important, but it’s not only winemakers who vary in their ability to taste mousiness. Anecdotal evidence suggests there’s a very wide range of tolerance amongst wine professionals and consumers, from blissful ignorance to super sensitivity. An individual’s ability to detect mousy taint may well hinge on the pH level of their saliva – ergo possibly a genetic condition.”
They go on to look at a number of producers who successfully avoid SO2 - who suggest it largely comes down to cleanliness in the winery or using concrete over wood. "Cornelissen is now an elite member of that very small club of winemakers who have close to 20 vintages under their belts working without sulphur. Natural wine’s grandfathers Jules Chauvet and Jacques Néauport also spent decades researching and experimenting before their ideas were taken up by the ‘gang of five’ winemakers of Villié-Morgon in Beaujolais. The risk with less-experienced producers who’ve since adopted this most challenging winemaking method is that the same mistakes are repeated endlessly, perhaps even implying that mousy wine is excusable on ideological grounds."
- For something lovely to finish the week on (or start the week on - whoops again), this little match making guide to companion planting made me smile. Nature is really so very clever.