In Briefs

1. The Vanilla Slice Blog is the 'Featured Blog of the Day' at The Australian Index for being quirky and for profiling an Aussie obsession.

2. Gordon Ramsay admits to a low sperm count. Food critic Giles Coren has irregularly formed sperm. On the channel 4 food show 'The F Word' they examine the theory that eating refined and sugary processed foods, produce treated with chemicals, drinking sugary soft drinks and not drinking enough water contributes to poor sperm motility, irregular shape, dehydrated semen and a low sperm count.

To keep your custard in good shape, remember to drink 1.5 litres of water every day and to eat SOLE Food and Slow Food. Cook with the best quality produce you can afford, wear loose briefs and you'll evidently keep 'your boys' happy.

3. Having raised money for mens' issues - with beneficiaries The Prostate Cancer Foundation & Beyond Blue - Movember wraps up in the next day. Thankfully Mr Stickyfingers will be removing his itchy big moustache - inspired by Lemmy of Motorhead - where both custard and icing collect on tasting. Last year he modelled himself on Borat sans Mankini - fetching.....NOT!

Movember (the month formally known as November) is a moustache growing charity event held during November each year.

At the start of Movember guys register with a clean shaven face. The Movember participants known as Mo Bros then have the remainder of the month to grow and groom their moustache and along the way raiseas much money and awareness about male health issues, in particular prostate cancer as possible.

Movember culminates at the end of the month at the gala partés. These glamorous and groomed events will see Tom Selleck and Borat look-a-likes battle it out for their chance to take home the prestigious Man of Movember title.

2007 Movember Foundation. All rights reserved.

beautiful stench

washed-rind cheese = washed rind cheese = monastery cheese = stinky cheese As they ripen, these cheeses are washed with a liquid. The moisture encourages the growth of bacteria, giving the cheese a strong odor and flavor. Many of these cheeses are soft or semi-soft and have sticky, reddish-orange rinds, which most people consider too pungent to eat. It takes a strong wine like a Burgundy or Pinot Gris to stand up to most of the cheeses in this category. Beer works, too.

For quite some time I have had a love affair with washed rind cheeses such as Livarot and Pont L'Eveque. Like eating Durian, one must be prepared to brave the smell to appreciate the flavour. In the case of these cheeses, people have approximated the malodour to dirty socks, stinky feet and belly button cheese. While I cannot abide Durian, I am happy to entertain washed rind and occasionally turn a blind eye to the food miles accrued on a piece of French cheese imported by Will Studd.

Recently while in the Barossa Valley we had a superlative meal at Mark McNamara's Appellation in Seppeltsfield. To my surprise the cheese course sported a local washed rind that gave my favourite imports a run for the money. It came from The Barossa Valley Cheese Company in Anguston.

The Cheesemaker turned out to be the ex-wife of one of my favourite winemakers - Ben Glaetzer. Victoria Glaetzer had learnt her craft while they lived and worked as winemakers in Bordeaux during three successive vintages. Now, using fresh milk sourced daily, direct from a local dairy, Victoria and her business partner and mother, Frances McClurg, specialise in hand-made soft white mould, washed rind, and fresh cheese styles in the heart of Angaston. They produce about 40kg of cheese a week and their shopfront is the starting point for a number of food and wine tours of the region.

We bought ourselves a piece to bring home along with a Petite Princess Goat Camembert and a tub of especially creamy and flavoursome goats curd. The stinky went down especially well with a glass of local Turkey Flat Pedro Ximenez.

According to Australian Specialty Cheesemakers Association vice-president Ian Roberton, a cheese wholesaler and chief judge for the association's three annual cheese shows. "There's no doubt the [local] industry is getting stronger and there's certainly been an improvement in quality, quantity and variety".

With our high-quality milk and growing artisan cheese sector (ASCA has about 65 members), there's evidence of an active, evolving industry. According to figures from Dairy Australia, artisan cheese production last year reached about 33,000 tonnes - almost twice that of six years earlier. Fresh cheeses including ricotta, fresh curd, mozzarella and fetas rose by 4 per cent. Production of surface-ripened styles - brie, camembert and the stinkier washed rinds - rose by 24 per cent.

Despite the challenges of the drought, judges at the specialty cheese show in Sydney in May were impressed. "All the time we are seeing a better product and, overall, people are making better cheeses," says veteran judge Russell Smith. Formerly a retailer and now a consultant, Smith shares Roberton's enthusiasm for new products such as the fresh buffalo-milk cheeses - milky-sweet mozzarella and ricotta - from Far North Queenland's Vanella dairy.

Both men also applaud the increasing number of interesting cheeses such as complex washed rinds - the smelly-socks end of the cheese board. Also to be welcomed, Smith says, are the experimental efforts of Kris Lloyd from South Australia's Woodside with her eclectic mix of surface-ripened styles, and "the very talented" Victoria Glaetzer from the Barossa Valley Cheese Company, another washed-rind producer.

So there you have it. We are so lucky to be able to access such great produce and artisanal products. Get behind your local Cheesemakers today. It's certainly worth your while and is the SOLE Food alternative to imports.

Barossa Valley Cheese Company. Cellar: 67b Murray Street, Angaston South Australia 5353. Phone: +618 8564 3636,
Fax:+618 8564 3737 Email: sales@barossacheese.com.au

Interlude Nil, Ezard Nil

This time last week Guy Grossi was king hit and George Calombaris hit his stride.

The air at the State Soccer Centre in Melbourne's Thornbury was heavy with machismo and the threat of rain after a morning of thunderous downpours. We were at the Heinz Charity Cup, a day of soccer matches fielded by sixteen teams from Melbourne's better known restaurants and their suppliers, to raise money for the Starlight Foundation.

Families and restaurant groupies swarmed the grounds. RRR FM provided background entertainment with an outside broadcast and Damm Fine Food filled the air with the comforting smells of a gourmand's sausage sizzle. Loaves of commercial white bread leant flaccid and lazy against the wall outside the Broadcast team's window and a walking, giant Heinz ketchup bottle - waving its lid helplessly - was being harassed by spiteful bored children.

The teams gathered onfield, their families clustered under makeshift shelters battling the hot, humid and blustery spring elements. Dogs played and the more rambunctious little tackers wreaked havoc in a Shrek Bouncy Castle. The broadcasters discussed growing organic lettuces. Onfield, kitchen egos flared and then Guy, Executive Chef of Grossi Florentino and Mirka at Tolarno, got sconed.


Paul Wilson, Executive Chef of The Botanical, was surprisingly nimble on his feet. Moving across the field like a black battle ship, he was a force to be reckoned with. On the side lines, the whisper in the crowd was that Chef Robin Wickens had padded out Team Interlude with ring-ins.

The wog boys from Cecconi's fought tooth and nail with the combined team of Mini & Syracuse. While crouched on the sidelines, a listless apprentice from Jacques Reymond complained that he had an arduous Saturday, culminating in 63 covers and was heading home later to write a 1200 word essay.

The kitchen brigade from The Press Club were impressive performers - Chef George Calombaris played with gusto leading his team to an resounding seven/nil thrashing of Ezard/Gingerboy. Across the way teams Pearl and Oyster battled the wind that was ripping fiercely at the San Pellegrino banners.

Apparently The European crew was there too, along with Joseph's, Sarti, Movida and The Grand Hyatt, but as the rain began to fall we escaped the havoc to the relative comfort of the Northcote Social Club for a cleansing ale.

Heinz Charity Cup Results

Semi finals:
Press Club Vs Mini/Syracuse 0-3;
European Vs Botantical 0-1;

Final: Botanical Vs Mini/Syracuse 0-2

Since 1988, Starlight Children's Foundation Australia has brightened the lives of seriously ill and hospitalised children, and their families, by delivering innovative programs that restore the fun, laughter and joy that serious illness takes away.

Living with illness or injury can cause enormous strain in the lives of children and their families. The pain, loneliness and isolation that sick children feel dominates their lives to the extent that they often miss out on the fun, laughter and normal experiences that healthy children take for granted.

Physical recovery is only part of the solution. Starlight delivers programs designed to make children happy and lift their spirits when they need it most. Starlight brings fun and laughter to children no matter what their illness or where they live.

"Looking after a child with a chronic or life threatening illness requires a comprehensive ‘total’ approach to care, a healing environment that includes entertainment, diversion, fun, laughter and joy. Starlight is a key partner in providing these aspects of care.” Professor Les White Executive Director, The Children’s Hospital

Starlight provides its services Australia-wide and its programs are delivered both in and out of hospital, providing positive distraction to children in their time of need.

Make a dream come true with a donation or through one of the many forms of volunteer work that can assist the foundation.

Blog in Traditional Media - Thnx Ed

WORD OF THE DAY
for Thursday, November 22, 2007

deipnosophist \dyp-NOS-uh-fist\, noun:

Someone who is skilled in table talk.

At the age of six his future as a deipnosophist seemed certain. Guzzling filched apples he loved to prattle. Hogging the pie he invariably piped up and rattled on.

-- Ellis Sharp, "The Bloating of Nellcock"

Deipnosophist comes from the title of a work written by the Greek Athenaeus in about 228 AD, Deipnosophistai, in which a number of wise men sit at a dinner table and discuss a wide range of topics. It is derived from deipnon, "dinner" + sophistas, "a clever or wise man."

A very flattering gesture, published in this week's Herald Sun City Style,
food and fashion insert. Deeply appreciated it caused a frisson of excitement amongst my friends.

Kudos also to the immaculate and detail oriented Duncan Markham, Writer, Editor and blogger of Syrup and Tang.

Thank you Ed for being my Blogging mentor, your ability to balance your roles in the traditional and social media with great dexterity
are an inspiration.

Risotto Monster

MY PANTRY DILEMMA

I sit on the couch surrounded by boxes, stacked floor to ceiling. I’m sure there’s a TV in here somewhere; no I know there’s one. I am in my thirties and I have been living here for ten years. My house has been turned upside down by a bachelor.

A coffee - quickly!

Kitchen: same scenario, more boxes. I have no choice but to begin emptying these boxes in order to liberate my Baby Gaggia and coffee grinder cowering in their corner behind the boxes.

He’s moved in finally, with more than 40years worth of stuff.

You live happily single. Your household is just as you want it, enjoying your space, and then one day you fall happily in love; it results in a merge of households. Then unfolds the dilemma of the modern couple: whose stuff stays and what has to go by the wayside? In my case, as the Epicurean with a small kitchen, there is another question – what the hell am I going to do with the contents of his pantry; a bachelor pantry brimming with caveman cuisine?

In my cottage sized kitchen I have had to be sensible about the use of space. I buy fresh produce and a small amount of gourmet grocery, leaving the cupboards brimming with gadgets and crockery. Stockpiling Extra Virgin Olive Oil when it’s on special has been impossible. So what could I do with this influx of stuff?

Thankfully, deep in these boxes lay things that should never see the light of day. Jars of condiments 10 years out of date were piled stickily alongside greying bottles of sawdust, err, herbs and rancid spreadables. But the worst was yet to come: cereal boxes alive with weevils and pantry moths. …Eeew!

An hour later the bin was over flowing. There was a box allocated for charity and a pile for eBay, but still I had no space for the rest of the stuff. So I consolidated bottles of olive oil, vinegar, Vegemite, jam, fish sauce and mustard. I rearranged cupboards and found room for his family sized tins of Milo and Quik.

But still sitting on a nearly cleared counter were 4 kilos of Arborio rice and a dozen packets of pasta. How could a man who seldom cooked, have accumulated all this? What could I do with all this starch – create a pasta mural and a risotto mosaic?

I was stumped.

Porcini Risotto with Garfield Barramundi and roasted tomatoes

Rice:
1 pkt Dried porcini mushrooms
2 cloves purple garlic, minced
1 brown onion, finely diced
2 cups Arborio or Calasparra rice
1.5 cups verjuice
1.5 litres porcini stock
500ml Vegetable or Duck stock
nutmeg
Shaved Parmigiano Reggiano

Fish:
2 barramundi
Fresh Dill
Fresh coriander
clove of garlic
2 pieces dried mandarin peel
Fresh rosemary stems
Lemon infused olive oil
Za'atar
Sumac

5 Ed Charles (Tomatoes)
Fructose powder
Murray River salt/ coarse flaked salt


Rehydrate porcini mushrooms in hot water until reconstituted. Drain and reserve the water which should now be brown. Heat stock and strain in the reserved water from soaking the mushrooms.


In a paella pan, warm olive oil on the stove until the pan is well lubricated. Soften diced onion and garlic in the oil. Add rice and toss around until the grains are coated with oil and translucent.


Add verjuice and stir until absorbed, then tip in the stock a cup at a time, allowing rice to absorb fluids each time, but reserving one litre to add later in the process. As the pan is shallow absorbtion will happen quickly without the need to stir constantly. Season rice with salt and pepper, and a sprinkling on grated nutmeg. Add mushrooms and allow to cool. Fold shaved Parmegiano Reggiano into the cold rice.


Wipe fish dry with paper towel. Stuff the cavity of one with fresh dill, the other with coriander. Place torn pieces of mandarin peel (this will take the pungent smelliness from the fish) and minced garlic in with the herbs. Score deep gashes in the sides of the fish. Place a bed of rosemary on top of the risotto and lay the fish on it. Rub the fish with lemon infused olive oil. Sprinkle them with salt, pepper, sumac and za'atar.


Cut tomatoes in half and lay around the fish, covering the risotto. Sprinkle with powdered fructose, salt and black pepper. Pour the reserved stock into the pan, but not over the fish or tomatoes. Slide the pan into a wood fired oven surrounded by jovial food bloggers at the inaugural Bloggers Banquet.


Turn the pan mid way through cooking using a long handled paddle. When the flesh in the scored sides of the fish looks opaque yet juicy, armed with a hoe, asbestos gloves and a welding mask, remove the paella pan from the inferno. The fish and rice will continue to cook for a short while after the pan is removed from the oven. Serve with Mr Stickyfingers' chargrilled vegetable salad.

A photo pictorial and discussion of the inaugural Bloggers Banquet can be found at Flickr. Backlinks to attending Bloggers: Vida, Duncan, Neil, Jack, Claire, Anna, Katie, Jamie, PG, Cindy, Josh, Elliot, Sarah, Thanh, Jon

A warm round of applause to Ed Charles for organising the event.

Snot Block update

The Spanish were responsible not only for importing the vanilla pod to Europe from Central America, but also for supplying Europe’s languages with a name for it. In Spanish it is vainilla, a diminutive of vaina, ‘sheath’ – a reference to the long narrow pods. The ultimate source (root) of Spanish vaina is Latin vagina.

Two more posts have been added to Vanilla Slice Blog. We stopped at the Orange Spot Bakery in South Australia enroute home from our stay in The Barossa Valley to sample their second prizewinner. The second visit was to the much-vaunted San Sebastian, in Mr Stickyfingers’ old stomping ground, Hampton. Next up will be Chimmy’s in Abbotsford, thanks to a tip off at the site, where we have allocated a page for suggestions. Feel free to let us know where your favourite is.

By hook or by crook, Purple Goddess and I will make it to Sorrento for an eat off of their two most famous, in the next couple of weeks.

Vanilla Slice Blog – the quest for perfection.

Maggie Beer's Kitchen

Things that make my kitchen special
by Maggie Beer

• My red gum chopping boards
• My rolling pin with ball bearings in the end
• My long marble bench
• My very old refrigerator – 2 door stainless steel that was made obsolete from the Pathology Department at the University
• My coffee machine and coffee grinder
• My iron pot hanger
• My oscar food processor
• A Zester that really works
• My truffle shaver for that trip to Italy every now and then
• Stainless steel sets of measuring cups and spoons
• An Alessi timer

I dip a tiny little plastic ice cream spoon into a plastic pot. Salmon, cream and dill wash over my palate: go-ood. Another spoon, another pot: star anise and duck livers melt in my mouth leaving a smooth burgundy piece of agar with no flavour.

It’s 1.45pm on a Sunday in the Barossa Valley. Seventy people are crowded into Maggie Beer’s Pheasant Farm Shop provedore overlooking her dam. The sky is dark and the venue seems over run by buxom women of a certain age with short funky hair cuts and kooky glasses, some holding fort behind the counter, while others ride the crush of the room, tasting, reading jars and bottles, and flipping through Maggie’s latest cookbook. Clearly all are Maggie Beer Groupies.

At the bare wooden tables families sit with samplers of the simple fare on offer consisting of pastry, pậtés and terrines prepared by Maggie’s team. I wander, I look, I taste. Nothing new, everything here is available at my usual providores back home for cheaper than the prices marked here.

As we leave, a member of the staff announces that a cooking demonstration will be held next door and the women in our group are sucked back through the dense crowd into the newly opened vacuum that is Maggie’s kitchen studio, the place where filming of her cooking show ‘The Cook and the Chef’ with Simon Bryant, Executive Chef of the Adelaide Hilton, takes place. This is the room that replicates Maggie’s home kitchen for the purposes of taping the TV show. Instead of overrunning the Beer household, the studio space allows for the dozen people that make up a television crew for twelve hours of shooting in one session, in relative comfort and convenience.

Andrew, the staff member in Chef’s blacks, leaves the room to hustle for more attendees. Mr Stickyfingers wanders in with his mates, and leaping off my plywood stool I hand him my camera, race behind Maggie’s counter and pose for a few photos. When Andrew re-enters and assumes his position to give us the hard sell on verjuice, he tells the rest of the assembled audience that they are welcome to do likewise after the demonstration.

For me the buzz is just to be in this kitchen. I love the play of eccentricities and clash of cooking styles that the TV show brings to light. As a Eurasian raised on fine dining, Asian, Fusion and rustic Hungarian cuisine, I see my cooking style as encompassing both Maggie and Simon’s idiosyncratic leanings and I hungrily devour the shows regardless of whether there is any knowledge they can impart that I have not already been exposed to. The interplay of personalities is what carries me enthralled through their half hour session.

But here, in the studio, I find the class a huge yawn. It is evident that this is a selling tool for Maggie’s products and would most probably have lasted longer than ten minutes had Andrew been equipped with the appropriate selling tools of ‘Vino Cotta’, olive oil etc, etc. To his credit Andrew gives her latest book a good plug and tells us that the fabric covering is Scotchgarded against kitchen spills.

He goes on to enlighten us that since the launch of the book last week, Maggie is on an exhaustive 5week promotional tour, including an appearance on Kerrie-Anne Kennerley. Mr Stickyfingers jokes to the class that she is elbowing Kevin Rudd out of the way at election campaign trail engagements, receiving a rumble of laughter from the room.

As Andrew roasts tiny pieces of fennel and tosses Swiss brown mushrooms through buerre noisette and splashes them with verjuice, my eyes drift unattentive of his efforts, distracted by the ABC TV Art Department’s dressing of the set. I see Kylie Kwong’s books on the shelf, artfully arranged Fowler’s Vacola bottles of preserved stone fruit and tomatoes, a large mixing bowl, utensils hanging from a range hood, jars of wooden spoons, bowls of nuts and garlic and a vase of fresh flowers. The sunny yellow walls are lit with a rig left behind by the film crew, to give - at Maggie’s suggestion - a more theatrical feel to the ensemble.

Again I am immune to the charms of the arrangement, having spent 20 years on photographic TV and film sets, but I am fascinated by both the attention to detail and the styling of the scenario. The rustic stripped cornflower blue shelves filled with jars, antique ceramics, jelly moulds and knick-knacks to the right are a cute touch, offsetting the yellow, cream and black surfaces, and the dark granite modern counter that has taken the place of Maggie’s long wooden kitchen bench at home.

On an old kitchen table - painted cream - are a bowl of hazelnuts sitting companion to an old set of scales that appear to be purely decorative. I stare at the French doors that Maggie escapes through when Simon cooks off Chilli at ferocious temperatures and study the tiles under the rack of hanging utensils, which have taken the place of the rack of pots and pans, which hang over the centre bench in Maggie’s home kitchen.

Suddenly the cooking demonstration is over and the class swarms toward the granite counter to sample the fennel and mushrooms. The greediest of the viewers nudge their way in and linger, hovering to eat piece after piece, while behind them others are champing at the bit. My beloved and I play model and photographer again, until sighting another in our party with itchy feet we are forced to tear ourselves away.

Maggie’s marketing machine is still in full flight as we leave and the tourists are swarming for goodies they can most probably pick up closer to home. Some lament her decision to close her restaurant while others look at the chalkboard thinking that they couldn’t face yet another of The Barossa’s ubiquitous tasting platters.

We move on to Blond’s in Anguston - a slice of the city that takes advantage of the fantastic local produce - in a cute, rustic town. As well as being yet another regional provedore selling sublime Carême Pastry (Stephanie Alexander declared that she’d never make puff pastry again after trying their All Butter Puff Pastry made with unsalted Belgium butter), local Germanic smoked meats and small goods, pasta, Ortiz Anchovies, hand made pastas and the inevitable jars of pickles, jams, sauces etc they incorporate these goodies into their small menu.

Blond’s serves excellent coffee, cake, brekkie and light meals. It is here we finally take the edge off our hunger with simple dishes made with exceptional local produce, resting our palates after a rigorous morning that saw us sampling over 20 wines and looking for an afternoon siesta.

Blond Store & Coffee, 60 Murray Street, Angaston, South Australia

Maggie Beer’s Pheasant Farm Shop
Pheasant Farm Road - off Samuel Road, Seppeltsfield, South Australia

Quick-quick. Slow-slow

The word tart seems to have applied colloquially to women in the mid nineteenth century, as a term of endearment, rather than abuse. The first to record it was John Hotten in his Dictionary of Modern Slang 1864:

Tart a term of approval applied by the London lower orders to a young woman for whom some affection is felt. The expression is not generally employed by the young men unless the female is in "her best".

Not until the 1880's do we find instances of its being applied to prostitutes. The original inspiration was presumably that tarts were thought of as sweet and toothsome.



How to be a tart and impress with minimum effort using Slow Food.

A staple in the Sticky household, this tarty little number surprised us with an appearance on a menu recently, described as a Galette. I was expecting a galette being a buckwheat pancake as favoured in Brittany, discounting the fact that it can also be used to describe a round flat cake, but not a tart. I have had a potato galette before, but that turned out to be Roesti. But what we had ordered emerged as a tart, just like the pictured one, which I make at home. Well, there's nothing like SOLE food when you're peckish, I suppose.

To pull this easy little beauty together, make squares of puff pastry if you have a nice cool work surface and cold freshly churned butter. Alternatively use a pre-made frozen pastry like Pampas (not Slow Food) or if you're in the mood to lash out, use what the chefs use - Careme or Kirk's Butter Puff (SOLE but not Slow).

Leaving a 15mm border, score an indentation in the top of the pastry squares and then thoroughly prick the centre square with a fork. Bake until golden.

Spread some homemade onion jam - slowly braised with brown sugar and balsamic vinegar or verjuice - into the centre of the pastry square. I sometimes add Grey Poupon mustard or thyme to my onion jam mix, dependent on my mood.

Scatter over some freshly picked torn parsley, basil and dill or thyme and lemon balm on top, grind pepper and crown the lot with a tiny sprinkle of Murray River Salt.

Top that with a layer of small home grown or fresh local tomatoes, that have been sliced in half and slow roasted for an hour at 170degrees, with a scattering of salt, fructose powder and extra virgin olive oil. Add sliced local Buffalo Mozzarella and drizzle over a small amount of robust or fruity boutique Extra Virgin Olive Oil and garnish with basil leaves.

Serve as a light lunch or entree.

Variations:

• Replace mozzarella by spreading the base with labneh or goats curd
  
• Add mashed anchovies to your onion jam
  
• Add some rocket
  
• Add chargrilled eggplant or asparagus drizzled with pesto
  
• Replace tomatoes with Schinken Speck and add baby spinach leaves
  
• Use creme fraiche, Yarra Valley hot smoked trout, finely sliced red onion, capers, frisee and lemon infused oil
  
• Drizzle with Pomegranate Molasses or a reduction of Balsamic vinegar
  
• Coddled eggs, creme fraiche and Gravlax with dill
  
• Poached eggs and bacon with a trickle of Hollandaise sauce
  
• Smoked meats and beetroot with sour cream and dill
  
• Use it as a nest for a seventies style prawn coctail garnished with salmon roe

Maggie Beer's Kitchen

Things that make my kitchen special

by Maggie Beer

• My red gum chopping boards
• My rolling pin with ball bearings in the end
• My long marble bench
• My very old refrigerator – 2 door stainless steel that was made obsolete from the Pathology Department at the University
• My coffee machine and coffee grinder
• My iron pot hanger
• My oscar food processor
• A Zester that really works
• My truffle shaver for that trip to Italy every now and then
• Stainless steel sets of measuring cups and spoons
• An Alessi timer

I dip a tiny little plastic ice cream spoon into a plastic pot. Salmon, cream and dill wash over my palate: go-ood. Another spoon, another pot: star anise and duck livers melt in my mouth leaving a smooth burgundy piece of agar with no flavour.

It’s 1.45pm on a Sunday in the Barossa Valley. Seventy people are crowded into Maggie Beer’s Pheasant Farm Shop provedore overlooking her dam. The sky is dark and the venue seems over run by buxom women of a certain age with short funky hair cuts and kooky glasses, some holding fort behind the counter, while others ride the crush of the room, tasting, reading jars and bottles, and flipping through Maggie’s latest cookbook. Clearly all are Maggie Beer Groupies.

At the bare wooden tables families sit with samplers of the simple fare on offer consisting of pastry, pậtés and terrines prepared by Maggie’s team. I wander, I look, I taste. Nothing new, everything here is available at my usual providores back home for cheaper than the prices marked here. I want to visit the pheasants but a member of our party is desperate to leave, hungry and irascible - an inevitable consequence of a big session of wine tasting sans spittoon.

As we leave, a member of the staff announces that a cooking demonstration will be held next door and the women in our group are sucked back through the dense crowd into the newly opened vacuum that is Maggie’s kitchen studio, the place where filming of her cooking show ‘The Cook and the Chef’ with Simon Bryant, Executive Chef of the Adelaide Hilton, takes place. This is the room that replicates Maggie’s home kitchen for the purposes of taping the TV show. Instead of overrunning the Beer household, the studio space allows for the dozen people that make up a television crew for twelve hours of shooting in one session, in relative comfort and convenience.

As Andrew, the staff member in Chef’s blacks, leaves the room to hustle for more attendees, Mr Stickyfingers wanders in with his mates, and leaping off my plywood stool I hand him my camera, race behind Maggie’s counter and pose for a few photos. When Andrew re-enters and assumes his position to give us the hard sell on verjuice, he tells the rest of the assembled audience that they are welcome to do likewise after the demonstration.

For me the buzz is just to be in this kitchen. I love the play of eccentricities and clash of cooking styles that the TV show brings to light. As a Eurasian raised on fine dining, Asian, Fusion and rustic Hungarian cuisine, I see my cooking style as encompassing both Maggie and Simon’s idiosyncratic leanings and I hungrily devour the shows regardless of whether there is any knowledge they can impart that I have not already been exposed to. The interplay of personalities is what carries me enthralled through their half hour session.

But here, in the studio, I find the class a huge yawn. It is evident that this is a selling tool for Maggie’s products and would most probably have lasted longer than ten minutes had Andrew been equipped with the appropriate selling tools of ‘Vino Cotta’, olive oil etc, etc. To his credit Andrew gives her latest book a good plug and tells us that the fabric covering is Scotchgarded against kitchen spills.

He goes on to enlighten us that since the launch of the book last week, Maggie is on an exhaustive 5week promotional tour, including an appearance on Kerrie-Anne Kennerley. Mr Stickyfingers jokes to the class that she is elbowing Kevin Rudd out of the way at election campaign trail engagements, receiving a rumble of laughter from the room.

As Andrew roasts tiny pieces of fennel and tosses Swiss brown mushrooms through buerre noisette and splashes them with verjuice, my eyes drift unattentive of his efforts, distracted by the ABC TV Art Department’s dressing of the set. I see Kylie Kwong’s books on the shelf, artfully arranged Fowler’s Vacola bottles of preserved stone fruit and tomatoes, a large mixing bowl, utensils hanging from a range hood, jars of wooden spoons, bowls of nuts and garlic and a vase of fresh flowers. The sunny yellow walls are lit with a rig left behind by the film crew, to give - at Maggie’s suggestion - a more theatrical feel to the ensemble.

Again I am immune to the charms of the arrangement, having spent 20 years on photographic TV and film sets, but I am fascinated by both the attention to detail and the styling of the scenario. The rustic stripped cornflower blue shelves filled with jars, antique ceramics, jelly moulds and knick-knacks to the right are a cute touch, offsetting the yellow, cream and black surfaces, and the dark granite modern counter that has taken the place of Maggie’s long wooden kitchen bench at home.

On an old kitchen table - painted cream - are a bowl of hazelnuts sitting companion to an old set of scales that appear to be purely decorative. I stare at the French doors that Maggie escapes through when Simon cooks off Chilli at ferocious temperatures and study the tiles under the rack of hanging utensils, which have taken the place of the rack of pots and pans, which hang over the centre bench in Maggie’s home kitchen.

Suddenly the cooking demonstration is over and the class swarms toward the granite counter to sample the fennel and mushrooms. The greediest of the viewers nudge their way in and linger, hovering to eat piece after piece, while behind them others are champing at the bit. My beloved and I play model and photographer again, until sighting another in our party with itchy feet we are forced to tear ourselves away.

Maggie’s marketing machine is still in full flight as we leave and the tourists are swarming for goodies they can most probably pick up closer to home. Some lament her decision to close her restaurant while others look at the chalkboard thinking that they couldn’t face yet another of The Barossa’s ubiquitous tasting platters.

With the ire of ‘the hungry one’ rising quickly, we move on to Blond’s in Anguston - a slice of the city that takes advantage of the fantastic local produce, in a cute, rustic town. As well as being yet another regional provedore selling sublime Carême Pastry (Stephanie Alexander declared that she’d never make puff pastry again after trying their All Butter Puff Pastry made with unsalted Belgium butter), local Germanic smoked meats and small goods, pasta, Ortiz Anchovies, hand made pastas and the inevitable jars of pickles, jams, sauces etc they incorporate these goodies into their small menu.

Blond’s serves excellent coffee, cake, brekkie and light meals. It is here we finally take the edge off our hunger with simple dishes made with exceptional local produce, resting our palates after a rigorous morning that saw us sampling over 20 wines and looking for an afternoon siesta.

Blond Store & Coffee, 60 Murray Street, Angaston, South Australia

Maggie Beer’s Pheasant Farm Shop,
Pheasant Farm Road - off Samuel Road, Seppeltsfield, South Australia

Braeside Cafe, Mount Macedon

Bucolic, although often used as an adjective, is a noun originally describing a type of pastoral poetry that praises rural life over that of the city. The manner of a bucolic is usually somewhat fantastic, and the poetry tends to contrast the pleasant and pure life of the country with the corrupt and corrosive world of society. The term derives from Virgil, and "Bucolics" is a reference to a collection of poems. One set of bucolics was written by Virgil, while Theocritus and others also wrote collections of rusticated poems. In contemporary poetry, W. H. Auden wrote a sequence known as "Bucolics."

It is a sunny Saturday morning in Mount Macedon, 45minutes out of Melbourne, and the six Custard Crusaders have gathered for breakfast. We are sitting in the wood lined home of Julie and Jim Staddon, which from Thursday to Sunday becomes their Braeside Café and a lounge for B&B guests, relegating them to the confines of the kitchen and bedroom.

Amongst the paraphernalia and photographs of family life we sit at their dining table over looking a magnificent English Garden. To the right is a splendid Chicken Coop and at opposite ends of the garden are two cabins available for rent. A Cockatoo and a Rosella swoop in to eat some birdseed and a hen wanders around her territory, picking at grubs and weed.

We have come for the Big Breakfast as cited by Jamie Wodetzki, The Breakfast Blogger, as earning a near perfect score of nineteen points out of a possible twenty. This meal, consisting of two freshly laid eggs, sautéed mushrooms, roasted tomato, an Istrian sausage, bacon, toast and hollandaise was tackled by the men and the women chose the corn fritters with a single egg, spinach, salmon and eggplant chutney.

Guests are greeted at the door and are asked what they would like to drink as they enter the premises. Aside form the dining table there are several other smaller tables and as this is a mild and sunny day, tables are also set outside. The menu is long, showcasing a list of light to heavy breakfasts, and I want to eat so many of the listed items, but it’s morning and I’m muddle-headed.

The service here is relaxed to the point of being comatose, but we don’t mind, as later that day, we are about to begin our journey reviewing vanilla slices. I notice Julie ducking out to the garden to pick herbs, and swiftly making her way back into the kitchen. The meals arrive staggered, much as you would expect from a home kitchen, and the first thing that hits you is the lurid colour of the Hollandaise Sauce. No pasty, pale and wan looking city style sauce, this golden wonder speaks of fresh eggs laid by hens free to peck around in the garden. The poached eggs are perfectly congealed, a further indication of their freshness.

The bacon and mushrooms are spot on but it is the spicy Istrian sausage that steals the show. A freshly made moist, meaty banger flecked with spices and cooked to absolute perfection. The corn fritters were a little burnt around the edges, but I dare say they’d be the same if I was cooking for twelve people simultaneously at home. The fritters were so thick with corn that the batter struggled to hold them together and the spinach formed a perfect mound atop one of them while a poached egg perched upon another. A generous serve of salmon was offset by a delicious helping of Fruits of The Forest eggplant relish and although was smaller than the Big Brekkie, it was more than enough for me.

To my mind the corn fritters are often better at Mart 130, but the bucolic locale and the hospitality of the home offset any culinary glitches. The quality of the produce was superlative, which was brought home the following day when our B&B provided us with supermarket eggs that were possibly 2months old, Bakers Delight bread and croissant and the largest rashers of commercial grade bacon I’ve ever seen to cook for breakfast. For me as you may know by previous rantings, it’s all about the freshness and integrity of the ingredients, cooked simply.

Julie bolted out of the kitchen for a quick chat and nod of approval. Our waitress also stopped by for a chin-wag about blogging and her own history of living in Woodend. We lingered, discussing the plan of attack on the vanilla slice journey and I took a turn around the garden with the camera. It was a slow start to the day and as I fell into repose sated, I had the desire to do absolutely nothing.

Braeside Café. 47 Taylors Road, Mt Macedon, Victoria.
Ph. 03 5426 1762. Big breakfast $15 Corn Fritters $12

hot stuff

A quick congratulations to my friends Jamie Wodetzki of The Breakfast Blog and Ed Charles of Tomato, who on tuesday were mentioned in the UK's Guardian Unlimited online travel section. Their blogs were amongst those cited as reference for those visiting Melbourne, and in case you don't fancy subscribing to the site here is the relevant prose...

Bringing back brekkie

Melbourne resident Jamie Wodetzki is a people's foodie who takes time to think about the little meals. Talking to Yahoo earlier this year, our Jamie lamented, "the pathetic coverage of breakfast by mainstream food critics. All they really care about are those other meals". The Breakfast Blog is his way of fighting back – a selfless pursuit of the city's pre-midday eateries. His new-found status as a breakfast don leads him all over the world, but his focus always returns to Melbourne. Follow this link for his top-rated Melbourne brekkies – all 19/20. Nobody has received full marks yet.

Clandestine tomato

So, we've got the morning-after covered, but what about the night before? Tomato is a prolific Melbourne blog with great tips in its 'bars and pubs' and 'beverage' sections. This post on the Emerald Hill Brewery (20 Ross Street) samples one of the city's clandestine drinking options: "Down the alley on the left is a small nondescript warehouse with a roller door. The only sign of life is a small, lit sign above a door. We arrive at 5.30pm and there are only a handful of people sampling the two award-winning beers on tap, a pale ale and a wheat beer. Soon the place fills up." There are other great tips scattered around the site; this one requires some hunting.

While the back slapping is going on I'd like to announce that I have managed to cobble the vanilla slice blog together over at Wordpress. The header needs a better photo, but that will come in good time. And while The Custard Crusaders probably won't be sampling every day, we will endeavour to plow our way through as many vanilla slices as possible.

There are currently two reviews posted, with the back to back Champion Tatura Hot Bread Kitchen slated before month's end and Glenelg's second placed, Orange Spot Bakery, earmarked for a visit enroute home from our spell in The Barossa Valley in the next week.

http://vanillaslice.wordpress.com/