Black Truffle

It’s a very exciting time at the moment for the food lover (for me, anyway!). As we approach the close of winter, I thought it would be a nice idea to write about the most fascinating of all winter foods- the black truffle.

Truffles in Australia have only ever been imported from Europe at Christmas time, and were only available to restaurant chefs, millionaires or the most obsessed gourmands. Farmed truffles from various locations in Australia are now available and this means that (normal) people can buy and enjoy fresh truffles too. Imported black truffles fetch around $5000 per kilo, while Australian black truffles fetch $2000- $3000 per kilo. Okay, still expensive, but cheaper!
I know most people would seriously be thinking that I am an absolutely crazy to spend so much money on a smelly black fungus, but I like to justify my gustatory actions by saying that its not every day that I buy black truffles. It’s a once a year splurge - a “truffle binge” if you like. And a little does go a long way. A 50g truffle (about the size of an egg) is perfect for a two-person truffle feast. If you were a millionaire or a very generous person, you might consider buying truffles to entertain a group of friends. Unfortunately I am neither.
After doing some research (availability, cost) I decided that it would be best to buy directly from the source, Perigord Truffles of Tasmania, rather than buying from the usual gourmet stores. I am so tired of bad service from one particular “gourmet” retailer here in Melbourne that I will only shop there if I absolutely have to.
I contacted Perigord Truffles of Tasmania, and placed my order on a Tuesday evening; it was delivered Thursday morning. The only way it would have been fresher, is if I was growing them myself.
Truffles are weird looking objects, from the outside they are dark brown/black bumpy round shaped. Inside they wonderful visual appeal, similar to the grain inside nutmeg. And the flesh has a unique texture, a bit like crumbly cork. They don’t really taste of much at all (at the most vaguely like a mushroom) but that’s not where the beauty lies.
As most people know or have read, their intoxicating scent is what people fuss about. The scent is weird and wonderful. A combination of fresh yeast and moldy cheese. That’s probably not the best description, but nonetheless I find the aroma inviting and very agreeable. It’s the kind of smell that just says, “Eat me!”
In my opinion, black truffles are best matched with foods that are pale and somewhat neutral in flavour. Think eggs, pasta, potatoes and rice. I have read they go well with chicken and pheasant, but I haven’t tried with these yet (maybe next year).
Here are a few of my tested ideas:

• Make a “risotto bianco” and substitute vermouth for the usual white wine. Add a spoonful of marscapone and finely chopped fresh black truffle to the “mantecatura” at the end along with the usual butter and Parmesan. At the table shave more black truffle all over the risotto. The white of the risotto and the black blanket of truffle slices look quite dramatic.
• A potato salad served at room temperature is a delightful way to showcase the black truffle. Begin by selecting waxy potatoes (I like kiplers or Desires). Peel them if you like. I don’t- potatoes have more flavour with the skins left on. Cut them into delicate cubes and steam them until just tender. For the vinaigrette I like to use a champagne vinegar and extra virgin olive oil (not an intense peppery one). Whisk these two together with sea salt and black pepper. Pour all over the warm potatoes and toss gently. Finely chop some fresh black truffle and add them to the potato as well. Toss again and allow them to come to room temperature. The heat from the potato will help to release the aroma from the truffle, infusing the potatoes throughout. Once cool, shave over more truffle and serve with what you will.
• One of the most glamorous breakfasts on the face of the planet has to be truffled eggs (well we had to use it!). I don’t store my truffle in a container of eggs, as I have often read. I am too afraid that I will just end up with eggs that smell of truffle and a truffle that smells of nothing. Truffles are too precious to take a chance like that. Mike has a fabulous way of doing scrambled eggs. He combines a little fresh cream, excellent eggs, and finely chopped truffle. This is frothed using the steam nozzle on an espresso machine. When almost ready he pours the mixture into a pan with melted butter in it. Cooked lightly just to finish the eggs. End result: extremely light fluffy moist eggs, with freshly shaved truffle. A dish fit for kings (two queens, actually).

So we now come to end of my favourite season, winter. I can’t say that I am excited about summer- its still a few months away but I’m sure I will survive it. Time to get Mike to buy an air conditioner, I think…

Rigatoni with Pinenuts, Raisins, Ricotta & Tomato

Years ago, when I was managing a well-known Melbourne café, I worked with a Aussie-Italian chef. This was one of the more unusual dishes she did for the menu. The chef who was responsible for this dish was of Sicilian descent and apparently the combination of flavours is common over there. Dried fruits, honey, pine nuts and ricotta are characteristic ingredients in Sicilian cuisine, and not just for the desserts! I think in my collection of regional Italian cookery books, I’ve got a recipe for pasta with cocoa and sugar, too.
I wouldn’t usually make a dish like this during winter, but the weather has been so unseasonably warm that I’ve been inspired to look ahead to the coming summer (as much as I dislike the heat). And besides, I love the weird and wonderful combination of the sweet honey and fruits with ricotta, tomato and crunchy pine nuts. I serve this pasta with a simple salad so as to not overwhelm the palate with too many flavours.

Components
200g rigatoni
½ brown onion, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
Olive oil for sautéing and tossing the pasta
400g tinned Italian tomatoes, crushed
Fresh basil, oregano or parsley
I tablespoon honey
30g pine nuts, lightly browned.
30g raisins (or currants or sultanas)
Freshly grated Pecorino cheese
Ricotta, broken up into chunks
Sea salt
Black pepper

Process
Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil and sauté the onion and garlic until softened (about 10 minutes). Add the tomatoes and chosen herbs. Simmer for 20 minutes or until saucy. You may need to add water if the sauce becomes too thick. Depending on the flavour of the tomatoes, I sometimes add 1 tsp of sugar. Season with salt and pepper.
While the sauce is cooking, bring a pot of salted water to the boil and cook your pasta until al dente.
Combine together the pine nuts, raisins and honey.
Warm the ricotta chunks in the tomato sauce for a few moments.
Toss the pasta with the sauce and ricotta. Stir through the pine nut and raisin mixture (you may like to use more or else). If you have are using fresh basil, toss through some of that too.
Serve straight away with freshly grated Pecorino cheese. Serves 2.

Balsamic Vinegar and Honey Braised Fennel

When, it comes to food, it is all or nothing for me. My palate tends to go for flavours that are completely opposites- those, which are delicate, or those that are rather intense.
The following recipe is one, which definitely falls in the “intense” category. I have made it numerous times during the past winter to serve alongside grilled meats and fish (tonight I am serving it with wagyu steaks).
I love the strong, contrasting flavours. Balsamic vinegar acts as the acidulant. Butter balances the acidity and honey adds sweetness. I like to include chili for a touch of heat. A word of warning: don’t overdo do the chilies. Although the flavours in this dish are intense, they should not obviously be inedible. I have made the error of adding too much chili in the past. A pinch of chili should be sufficient. The final dish should be buttery fennel pieces with a sticky, slightly spicy balsamic reduction.

Components
40g butter
Fennel cut into chunks, total weight 500g
Sea salt
Chili powder
50ml balsamic vinegar
20g honey

Process
Melt the butter in a saucepan. Add the fennel pieces and toss in the heated butter. Cook over a gentle heat for 15 minutes or so- just enough to soften and lightly brown the fennel.
Season with salt and a pinch of chili.
Pour in the vinegar and honey (I mix them together beforehand) and cover the pan.
Braise for 15- 30 minutes or until the fennel is dark and well cooked. The vinegar should be somewhat syrupy, but not overly reduced.
Cooking time will depend on the age and size of the fennel bulbs chosen. Serves 2, as an accompaniment to meat or fish.

Dulce de Leche Ice Cream

I cannot imagine an ice cream more satisfying than this one- the frozen combination of crème anglaise and dulce de leche is ecstasy to my fussy taste buds.
Perhaps the reason I love it so much is because it’s a combination of flavours that remind me of my childhood.
My mother used to make rich, yellow custard for me when I was a young boy and to this day it is the most reassuring food that I can think of. If I happen to be distressed, irritated, or simply worn out, a bowl of hot crème anglaise (made with more vanilla and sugar than usual) will miraculously turn me into a nicer person.
Dulce de leche has similar mood enhancing qualities (ask any Latino). Being of Argentine/ Uruguayan descent, I was brought up on the sweet milky caramel, the same way Aussie kids were raised on vegemite (yuk!). My favorite way to eat it- is (rather greedily) from a spoon. I used to get in trouble for doing that when I was a kid. Too bad, Mum.
Some palates may find the flavours in the recipe below too concentrated. I like my ice cream to be intense and pure in flavour. If you prefer your ice cream mild and milky, then double the amount of crème anglaise. I only raise this point because I have been told my ice creams and sorbets, are too much. Please yourself, that is the best part of being a home cook. One does not need to worry about pleasing the general population, like a restaurant chef has to.

Components
1 vanilla pod (optional)
3 egg yolks (free range)
3 tsp caster sugar
300ml milk
300g Dulce de leche (you can use shop bought dulce, if you like)

Process
Mix together the egg yolks, sugar and milk. You need to decide if you are using fresh vanilla- if your dulce is already perfumed with it, obviously, you won’t need it. Cut your vanilla pod lengthways through the center.
Scrape the black, sticky seeds using the point of a knife and add to anglaise mix. Add the pods too.
I make my anglaise directly over a medium/ high heat. If that makes you nervous then do it over a low flame. I honestly don’t have the patience required to stand 20 minutes over a stove, stirring constantly. I like it done quickly. Once it has thickened, pour it through a sieve into a bowl (keep the pods to infuse sugar- there will be plenty of fragrance to do so).
Mix the anglaise and dulce together. Chill it in the fridge before churning in the ice cream machine.

Freeze for a few hours and eat on the same day.
This amount makes enough ice cream to feed two people (greedily)

Celeriac & Chestnut Soup

This soup is utterly delicious.
I had been thinking of making it for some time. When I did finally make it for the first time last week, Mike and I were so pleasantly surprised with its delicate and fragrant flavour that I wondered why I hadn’t made it earlier during the autumn and winter. I just had to write about it and share it with others.
We all know how easy frozen chestnuts are to use. I don’t recommend using fresh chestnuts unless you intend having a nervous breakdown. Peeling chestnuts has to be the most painfully tedious kitchen job of all. I am much happier to use the frozen version, if it will keep me from going insane!

Components
400g frozen, ready peeled chestnuts
1 celeriac (about 800g)
1 brown onion, finely chopped
Olive oil and unsalted butter (for sautéing)
3 fresh bay leaves
1 strip orange zest
Stock (game stock works very well)
1 slice pancetta, about 1cm thick
2 or 3 juniper berries, crushed
Sea salt
Cream, 35% milk fat

Process
Thaw the chestnuts and bring them to room temperature.
Peel the celeriac and cut it into cubes about the same size as the chestnuts. You need about 400g of celeriac for the soup.
In a soup pot, heat a splash of olive oil and a piece of butter. Sauté the onion very gently for about 10 minutes. Do not allow it to brown- the flavours in this soup are meant to be delicate.
Add the chestnuts and celeriac.
Add enough stock to submerge the vegetables.
Add the piece of pancetta, bay leaves and strip of orange zest. Bring to the simmer and cook at this steady pace for about 30 minutes- all should become tender.
Remove the pancetta and reserve. Remove the bay leaves and discard.
Puree the soup using whatever gadget you possess in your kitchen arsenal.
Season with sea salt if need be.
Cut the pancetta into small cubes. Place it into a small saucepan with a few drops of oil, and fry it gently until it has browned. During the last few moments, add the crushed juniper berries to the browning pancetta and remove the saucepan from the heat.
Bring the soup to a simmer when you are ready to serve, adding a splash of cream to enrichen the concoction. You can stir the pancetta into the soup at the last minute, or you can use it to sprinkle over at the end. Either way is delicious. Serves 4.

Mussels with Red Curry

One of my favourite foods is mussels.
These delicious little mouthfuls are so easy to prepare and fun to eat. You can use your fingers & not worry about table manners too much! Even The Gourmand was licking his fingers.

Working close to the Victoria Markets means that I can purchase fresh mussels at lunchtime, and either Paul or myself can quickly prepare them for the evening meal. Very easy & very delicious!

Components
1kg fresh mussels, cleaned
2tbl red curry paste
400ml coconut cream
Kaffir lime leaves,
Vietnamese mint

Process
Pour some vegetable oil into a large saucepan, one big enough to hold all the mussels with room to spare. Heat the oil over a medium heat, then add the curry paste. Cook the curry paste until it becomes fragrant & separates.
Add the coconut cream and a couple of Kaffir lime leaves, (crush the leaves lightly in your hand to help release the fragrance).
Simmer the sauce, stirring occasionally till it has reduced to a thick consistency. Don’t worry about the sauce being too thick as the mussels throw a lot of water when they are added, thinning the sauce sufficiently.
Turn up the heat to high & add the cleaned mussels and a handful of fresh Vietnamese mint. Put the lid on the saucepan to help steam the mussels. They won’t take long to cook & open.
Give the mussels a stir to coat them all in the curry sauce & to ensure that all have been cooked
Serve immediately with some steamed rice and Asian greens.
1kg is plenty for two.

Honey and Mustard Fruits

I don’t very often make my own preserves and pickles. However once in a blue moon, I don’t mind. Amusement more than anything is usually the reason, as opposed to abundance of an ingredient, which was the motivation for making such concoctions in past times.
This one is based on Italy’s famous “mustard fruits” and I found the recipe in Stephanie Alexander’s multi-coloured striped cookery bible: "The Cook's Companion".
The flavour and texture are different to the commercially available product. It’s a pleasant balance of sweet, sour and pungent components.
I know it is probably the wrong time of year to be posting this recipe (late winter here in Australia). I had actually made this a few months ago, and I had forgotten all about it. Readers in the northern hemisphere may find it of use though. Better late than never.
This bizarre condiment goes well with roasted game meats, pork, and sausages. It is also a good accompaniment to a simple and lovely boiled dinner.

Components
130g dried apricots
130g dried figs
1 cup honey
250ml mild white wine vinegar
1 tbsp yellow mustard seeds
1 tsp mustard powder
½ tsp salt

Process
Cover both fruits with boiling water. Allow to soften and cool for 1 hour. Strain the water from the fruits and keep 60ml. Discard the remaining liquid.
Place the honey, vinegar, mustard, salt and reserved liquid into a saucepan. Simmer gently for 5 minutes.
Add the fruits, cover and simmer until the fruits are soft, about 15 minutes.
Ladle into a hot sterilized jar and store in a cool and dark cupboard.
Leave it for a few weeks for the flavours to infuse and develop. Refrigerate after opening.

Tangelo Chiaro-Oscuro

Pork with Apple Sauce

I love reinventing old dishes. Pork and apple sauce is one such dish. This version is far superior in flavour than the traditional version and a lot quicker to make too. Its one of those dishes you can put together swiftly and easily- perfect for when one isn’t particularly in the mood to be performing fancy tasks in the kitchen.
My favourite cut of pork is neck, otherwise known as scotch fillet. It is full of flavour and extremely juicy and tender. Buy it in one big piece and cut into steaks yourself.
I never cook pork until well done. I think it is absolutely revolting and very old fashioned cooked that way. I like mine seared on the outside and cooked medium, so the meat is tender within.

Components
250ml bottled apple juice (not freshly juiced)
1 clove garlic, whole but crushed
¼ cup brown sugar or maple syrup
Fresh thyme or rosemary
Pinch of chili powder
500g pork neck, cut into steaks
Sea salt
Fresh black pepper
Extra virgin olive oil

Process
Combine the apple juice, garlic, sugar (or maple syrup), herbs and chili. Add the pork steaks and allow to marinate for about an hour or so, at room temperature.
Remove the pork from its bath and pat dry with paper towels. Reserve the marinade. Smother the steaks generously with olive oil and season them salt and pepper.
Heat your char grill until it is scorching hot. Cook the pork steaks on the grill until cooked to your liking. Allow the cooked steaks to rest a few minutes before serving.
In the meantime reduce the reserved marinade, until thickened and somewhat syrupy.
Pour over the pork steaks and serve with duck fat sautéed potatoes.
Steamed broccolini tossed with hazelnut oil makes a good accompaniment too. Serves two.

Beef Braised in Red Wine with Potato Puree

If I had to choose one dish that perfectly symbolizes winter, this would be the one. Not a winter goes by without it making several appearances at my table. It does mutate a little each year though, usually by adding a little dash of something new or by the exclusion of one element or another. You know, to represent the “zeitgeist”. Similar to the way fashion evolves each season. This year I chose to add orange juice and cassia bark (to the braise) and finely chopped orange zest and parsley (to sprinkle over at the end)
Essentially it is the same as Coq au Vin. If you would like my recipe go here. Substitute well-marbled beef for the chicken. Oyster blade steak is the best in my opinion for braising and stews. The meat in marinade pictured below is so completely marbled it almost looks like wagyu.

Obviously the cooking time will be longer. You will know when it is ready- the meat will fall to pieces with the gentlest of touches.
As I mentioned earlier, it is good to add a little something extra to give the dish an individual character. Cubes of pumpkin or sweet red peppers instead of mushrooms and pickling onions make a pleasant change. Or you can vary the flavours by adding spices- cardamom, chili, cumin, and paprika. Port can be substituted for red wine. The list is endless and limited to your imagination. And I would leave out the chicken livers when doing the beef version.
Moving right along. Please don’t think that I pipe my potato puree into pretty rosettes on a regular basis. I did it for the photo. The only other time I have done it was for a dinner I cooked for a friend. I must have been desperate to impress. Oh dear- very desperate indeed!
And yes. In my house it is called “potato puree”. Not mash. I cannot stand to eat English style mashed potatoes- stodge, stodge and more stodge.

This how I have done mine for years:
For two people you will need 500g floury potatoes. I use Toolangi Delight (pictured below) - an Australian variety with a white flesh and purple skin. Peel the potatoes, cut into large chunks and steam until tender. Pass them through the mouli (the disc with the smallest holes) into a clean saucepan.
Add a splash of milk, cream and a generous amount of cultured unsalted butter. I have never measured these amounts, so I am guessing about 50ml of each. Add also 1 tsp of cumin, plenty of fine sea salt and freshly ground white pepper. Place over a gentle heat and stir like crazy until all the elements are well combined and the mixture is hot.
You can adjust the consistency by adding more or less milk. If you are making the puree ahead of time (and I often do) put it into a microwave proof bowl and cover with cling wrap. It reheats successfully in the microwave- just give it a stir every minute or so.
Following this method your puree will be light and fluid in texture, with a delicate, rich flavour.

Foul Guinea Fowl

Game birds are my favourite meats to eat- especially pigeon and pheasant. I was looking forward to roasting and eating a guinea fowl, of which I had been planning for a time. Guinea fowl I had never eaten, and to my dismay and I hate to admit, I found this particular bird insipid, dull and flavourless.
As most roasted game birds are usually a bit on the chewy side when it comes to the legs, I wasn’t too bothered. However, I found the breast meat bland and the skin thick and tough. Mike agreed, and we were both disappointed. Luckily the King Edward potatoes I had roasted on the side kept us from hunger.
To my understanding the bird was correctly cooked. I marinated it with fennel seeds, garlic, juniper berries, olive oil, rosé wine and shallot. I laid slices of pancetta over the breast to protect the flesh and roasted it for 20 minutes in a scorching oven. Half way through cooking, I removed the pancetta slices to allow the bird to brown nicely. The meat was pink (as it should be). I allowed the bird a 20-minute rest before serving.

Have any readers had similar experiences with guinea fowl?
Did I do something wrong, or are those qualities the nature of the bird?
Maybe I purchased a dud bird?
I would love any suggestions as to how to how to prepare a more succulent and appetizing bird.

Any ideas?

Ikean Meatballs

Mike and I went shopping at Ikea a few weeks ago.
I know “the snob” in some readers may be thinking “how cheap”. I don’t care if you are thinking that. I love Ikea- they do have good-looking, low-cost items for the home.
Anyway, I couldn’t help to take a wander through Ikea's Swedish food store, and I bought a Swedish cookbook, as well as other food items.
Swedish food is something I know absolutely nothing of. So I must admit, I am finding it rather strange, but certainly exciting- a cuisine of apples, cabbage, cream, lingonberries, potatoes, pickles, meatballs and sausages (I am sure there is more to it than that but that’s what is in the book).
The obvious recipes to try were the meatballs (of which there are several in the book).
Me being me, I have changed the recipe in a few ways (Ilva, I hope I haven’t deferred too much from tradition):
Firstly, by using a lot less cream- my first attempt produced a rather “sloppy” meatball mixture. Certainly in this case, less is more.
Secondly, I did not know what “rusk” was, nor could I find any. When I did the research, I discovered rusk to be a sweet bread/ biscuit. I substituted with plain sweet biscuit crumbs.
And thirdly, the sauce (similar to French veloute) I made separately- instead of cooking with the meatballs.
To accompany the meal, you are meant to provide lingonberry preserve, pickled cucumbers and boiled potatoes. I made a simple potato salad, rather than boiled (boring) potatoes as suggested in the book. I kept all the elements separate, so one could take a bit of this and a bit of that.
It all worked rather harmoniously.


For the meatballs- sweat a small amount of onion in butter for 5 minutes. Steam and roughly mash 2 small floury potatoes. Combine with 450g minced pork (or veal), 1 free-range egg, 1 Tbl crème fraiche and 50g of biscuit crumbs (the plainest biscuits you can find). Add a few drops of water if the mixture seems dry. Season with plenty of allspice, nutmeg, sea salt and white pepper. Form the mixture into largish meatballs (I like big balls). Cook very gently in plenty of butter until golden.
For the sauce- stir together 100ml crème fraiche, 200ml real stock and 1 Tbl flour. Bring to a simmer, always stirring and cook gently for about 15 minutes. If the sauce becomes lumpy (like mine did), simply pour through a sieve. Season with plenty of white pepper and nutmeg.
As you can see, these Ikean meatballs are straightforward to prepare. Mike and I ate them all for our dinner. I wish we hadn’t eaten them all, so I could have some now!

Acquacotta

The first time I made this soup was about 6 or 7 years ago. I followed the recipe to the letter from one of the River Café cookbooks. Nowadays when I prepare this dish I don’t refer to the book. In fact it has transformed over the years from their original formula (a bit like me).
The beauty of this soup is in the simplicity and that it doesn’t require stock, like most other soups do. Traditionally you use plain water instead. That’s why it is called “Acquacotta”. It literally means “cooked water” in Italian.
Mike and I adore this soup. It really is a feast. The poached egg makes it complete. It is also a fabulous hang over cure. When I was a single guy, I remember coming home after a night out on the prowl, desperate, dateless and very drunk. This soup tasted heavenly at 6am in the morning. Of course I didn’t make it from scratch at the crack of dawn (and in such a state of inebriation). I had the soup in the fridge, ready to go. All that was needed was to heat the soup, toast the bread and poach the egg. Even when I am blind drunk I can put together a good dish! Of course it tastes just as good without the hangover.

This is how I prepare my Acquacotta (enough for 4-6 serves):
Soak about 50g of dried porcini in boiling water.
In the meantime chop into 1cm cubes- 1 large red onion, 2 medium peeled carrots, 4 celery stalks and 200g swiss brown mushrooms.
Strain the porcini through a tissue lined sieve and reserve the liquid. Rinse the porcini pieces under a tap of running water and ensure all the grit is removed.
Place all your chopped veggies and a few spoonfuls of olive oil into a soup pot. Cover the pot and sweat the veggies for 30 minutes. Add a couple of fresh bay leaves and some chopped fresh rosemary and parsley too.
Open a tin of Italian tomatoes (400g) and crush them to a rough puree. Add the tomatoes with their juice and porcini liquid to the softened vegetables, and enough water to make a soupy consistency. Season with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.
Simmer for 30- 60 minutes, the longer the better. Adjust the seasoning and correct the consistency by adding more water if it needs it. Not too thick, not too thin. Somewhere in between is right. Just like Goldilocks liked it…
Toast slices of dense crusty bread. I like to use my char grill, but a regular grill will suffice. Whilst the bread is toasting, poach one egg per serve (free range or organic please). Have ready a peppery and intensely flavoured green olive oil to drizzle.
For the final construction, watch my visual demonstration.



Until next time…