Hong Kong Awakening

I’m sitting in a dark wooden booth, inaudible kitchen sounds muffle around me.  A menu stretches before me. It’s the size of a Blue Mountains terrain map and just as confusing with hundreds of brightly coloured photographs and busy Chinese characters.  It’s a cloudy haze of jet lag and culture shock.

How did I get here? I remember a suffocating heat of humid air hanging over a luminous city. A rackety bus lead me through streets of flashing neon signs. Giant billboards adorn modern high rises which tower over bustling late night steaming city streets.  It feels like a scene from blade runner. Asian influences and juxtaposing buildings of high end commercialism and crowded run-down apartment blocks pack the city- a testimony to the rapid advancement in finance and business and the consequential strains of over population.

Heat. Light. People. This is Hong Kong....And this is a bloody brilliant bowl of noodles!

Fragrant spices and punchy flavours steam up into
my head clearing away the jet lagged daze and awaking me to the electric scene that surrounds us. With the vigour of an empty stomach we somehow stumbled into this busy inner city late night eatery packed with locals. Mouth watering dishes parade out of the kitchen flooding the room with exotic aromas. Golden duck, steaming noodles, sizzling beef and plump dumplings. I'm in heaven and we are the only foreigners here. This is the way to eat in Hong Kong; stalk the locals and eat as the locals eat (at 12.00 at night it seems, does this city ever sleep?).  We slurp up the bowl of translucent noodles with the sweet broth and spicy accents of flavour and I feel an overwhelming sense of relief. Surrounded by the blatant unknown my body is rejuvenated and comforted by the familiar act of eating delicious food and I share this with the strangers around me. We are bound by the unanimous joy of eating at that place in that moment, we are just the same and I no longer feel so out of place.

A booming rumble snaps through the clattering conversation around us and as the heavens open outside and a new flurry of people enter we take our cue to free up the table and venture into the now soaking streets.

I have never seen a storm like this. One step into this monsoon downpour and we are soaked to the bone. If we had paid attention to the locals again we would have known to just wait it out- this time of year rain always wins and its best to get familiar and cower under a tiny doorway with 10 others.

The beautiful rain cools down the city and cleanses the streets and eventually rolls away. With a clean slate we manoeuvred our way back through the bustling streets, into the incorrect building, got lost in its maze of broken elevators, mangy cats and air conditioning units, was redirected by a prostitute and finally flopped back into our shoebox hostel room.

What a night and its only day 1!

laura x

Confessions of a neglectful blogger....

Dear Blog.

Please forgive me. I have been neglectful and distracted and have not given you the attention you truly deserve. Its not that I don't love you, I think about you all the time and I love spending time with you and your a really good listener. In an ideal world you would be all I needed but the truth is you don't really support me do you?.. No you don't help finance my ridiculous unnecessary grocery shops, when I blow my weekly budget on cheeses or experiment with truffles.

And you know its not all about you. I have had a tough month of getting screwed around by landlords and real estate agents, sleeping on couches, with no access to the internet I haven't even seen you! and to be perfectly honest I've started seeing someone else, someone who will pay the bills.

......But the truth is blog, I'm not the same without you.
When all this chaos of the last month settles down I know we will be back to how we used to be because without you I'm just a stomach with too many thoughts and options to know what to do with.

I love you blog.
I miss you.

Lets do lunch!

laura x

The Age of Anticipation

Anticipation is a thing of beauty.
It has the power to make the weekend feel months away or stretch the excitement of an impending event out of proportion and into the weeks prior. Any retiree will lay testimony to the importance of having something to look forward to, something to pencil into the calendar, brag to the neighbours about and meticulously prepare for in the chance of unpredicted weather.
I use this reasoning to justify my next statement.
... I love aeroplane food.
That is to say that I loved the aeroplane food we had on our flights back to England. Now I should explain that I am judging it on consideration of past experiences with these high flying lunch boxes and with respect for the cooks who have to prepare 350+ meals to be taken 30000 ft into the air with sensitivity to allergies, cultural differences and costing. But lets be honest, the real reason I enjoyed my meal so much was the sheer anticipation of an activity outside the mundane 14 hours of small screens, limited leg room, crying babies and duty free shopping. Where the most exciting thing you experience after take off is when the kid next to you barfs into a bag and the elderly American lady with the headphones up too loud, releases a deafening roar with laughter having first experienced the hilarity of grown men dressing like women in Little Britain (true stories).

There's no denying it. When the first squeaks of that clunky food trolley echo through the cabin, sleeping masks are lowered, bodies stir, necks arch and little heads poke there way up the corridor all trying to pretend that this event isn’t the most exciting thing that has happened to them in the last 12 hours. Long haul travel is a bit like retirement isn’t it? New aches and pains, dressing for maximum comfort, a heightened level of impatience and general intolerance and the all important anticipation of an event involving food.
To all this the taste takes a back seat really. We could be served old porridge and we would still be excited.
Our meal was however not porridge but a tray of shiny individually packaged items including a bread roll, 'Thai' salad with coriander and chilli, fruit salad consisting entirely of melon, a tim-tam and a rice dish with some sort of satisfyingly sweet and sour sauce next to grey bok choy. All in all a satisfying way to kill an hour and fill that hole that has remained empty since you woke up at 3am, was too tired to eat and then too emotional about saying goodbye to even notice you were hungry.
The real culinary adventure is when you set foot in that new country you arrive in. Stay tuned.

x laura

The 'new' Ori menu

After being away for three years it is always good returning to a restaurant you have always known and loved in your home town. The place that feels like a second home. Where you know the staff, you know which seats catch the  morning sun and which table under the trees will guarantee a bird christening your new woolen jumper before you finish your coffee.

For myself and my family this has always been the Ori in Springwood. It has become a refuge for the housebound university student, the wind down for weary teachers and the meet and greet for everyone in between so it was the obvious choice for our farewell dinner last week.
Whilst being a quiet Tuesday night I couldn't help notice it seemed a little quieter than I remembered. The new bowling club down the road appears to have stripped this small business of many of its customers. This is perhaps more notably reflected in the significantly reduced menu. With one side of the A4 menu outlining the various no-alcoholic beverages available the other boasts a selection of pub meals largely disguised as modern Australian cuisine by the exuberant prices. With little available for vegetarians the meat and three veg format is a far cry from the interesting menu I remembered.

Although most of us did enjoy our meals and had a wonderful time it may have been due to the company and paired wine as opposed to the food. This is the beauty of food- the resulting enjoyment from stimulating conversation and time spent with friends can often erase the memory of a disappointing meal. The peppercorn sauce with my perfectly cooked veal was a highlight and the barramundi was fresh and well cooked but the prices for such simple food is inexcusable. It pains me to judge a place I feel so fondly for so harshly but it is confusing as to why the ori  has moved in such a simplified direction. Springwood has always lacked an exciting food scene but the once named best restaurant/cafe of the year was always a rose amongst the thorns. Has the competition from the newly refurbished Springwood Bowling Club really pushed this once popular establishment into the overpriced pub category? I'm sorry Ori, the "if you cant beat them join them" theory has not worked in this case. You will forever be my local retreat for coffee, wine and crepes but shape up the dinner menu or I fear you will lose the remaining dining customers you have and then where will the exhausted teachers go to revive?

x laura

- Stay tuned for my upcoming blogs on aeroplane food and the sights and tastes from our stop over in Hong Kong.

Senses of Sake

It was a case of seeing is believing this week when I heard that Australia has a Sake Brewery and of all places it is at the foot of the mountains in the cosmopolitan town of Penrith.Ben, Dave and I heading down today.

Through the stretches of deserted car yards and industrial factories, at the end of a col-de-sac, next to an abandoned lot and backing onto a stretch of plum and cherry trees sits the Sun Masamune sake brewery, Australia's only sake brewery.

We were welcomed into a small reception room by a kind Japanese man who turned out to be managing director of the company Allan Noble. With noted passion and experience he describes the sake making process from the growing of the rice in rural Australia to the prestigious final products which were proudly presented for us to sample.

The company has developed a highly sustainable and organic approach to sake making which includes a crop rotation system, saving the need for external fertilisers and an efficient use of all waste in the creation of by-products such as soaps, moisturisers and a yeast product, which is used as animal feed as the remaining alcohol stimulates eating.

And the taste...wonderful. I am by no means a sake expert but the aroma of the sweet alcohol as I raised the cup to my lips brought back memories.

I first tasted the rice wine when I was a 16 year old, sailor dress wearing, bright eyed Australian sized Japanese school student living in a small country town outside Kobe. The shock of tasting my first drop of hard spirits was pleasantly calmed by the intoxicating smell of Japanese incense, smokey tatami mats and the politely smiling faces of my host family and teachers reassuring me that its ok to serve alcohol to a minor....its tradition.

My second memory of sake is a small steaming warm flask of it in a little sushi restaurant with Ben on a snowy night in the Canadian mountains. It was freezing outside and blowing a gale of snow and ice but there we sat tucked in a little red cushion booth drinking this deliciously sweet warm liquid watching mother nature rip itself apart, enjoying a banquet of brightly coloured artistic delights. As we eventually packed on the coats and gloves and braved the raging bitter weather it was the sake that stayed with us like a warm ember in our chest all the way home. 

To conjure up such great memories the Sun Masamune sake was the real deal. Sold under the name Go Shu, Noble san says it is the great Australian rice that makes their sake so good, " [Australian rice] is not the best because of flavour but because of the great starchy quality it produces which is perfect for making sake" With $2.5 million turn over it is hard to argue with the technique and dedication of this company.

However with 90% of the sake being shipped to Japan, the presence of international players in the sake market has not been received well by Japanese sake breweries. Its ironic that the majority of such a sustainable and organic product is being flown overseas when we import most of it from Japan anyway. It seems the organic no waste attitude of the company is contradicted by the exporting air miles produced. 

So if your looking to buy sake in Australia in the near future look for the brand Go Shu and enjoy the sweet smooth pleasure of the sustainably home grown. Otherwise check out the factory at some point. There are loads of other interesting things I learnt there and if you call ahead you can arrange a full tour of the brewery complex.

Until next time 

Kampai!

xlaura

Fathers day feast

Earlier this week my Mum, staring fore longingly into the scarcely filled pantry, commented on how she is "So over thinking about food". In fact she hates it. The nagging mid afternoon thoughts about what to cook, the mental search through files of meal options that will suit, the carnivore, the sometimes vegetarian, the big eater, the small eater, and oh the lactose free girlfriend. The moment your mental shopping list is deleted every time the little automatic gate swings open to welcome you into aisle upon aisle of post-work zombies trying to piece together a meal.
Don't get me wrong Mum appreciates great food, but I think the 20 something years of unappreciative children and this afternoon routine has beaten the joy out of cooking for her family... Sorry mum.

I think the commercialized industry which now surrounds our shopping and cooking practices has alot to answer for in creating such a stale and detached eating culture. For fear of harping on like an old git about this, I'll be brief. Fluorescent lights, plastic bags, chewing gum checkout teens, sticky lino and curry in a can is a far cry from early morning market banter, shiny heaps of olives, dewy cobblestones, flapping fish, wafting smells of fresh baguettes and roasting nuts, smiling stall keepers and horror story animal carcasses gaily decorated with Santa hats and flower garlands. Perhaps my mother is just lamenting the sounds, smells and sights of these European Christmas markets.
I should mention the saving grace for my mother in the laborious task of preparing the evening meal is the clean skin Shiraz she ceremoniously sozzles during preparation. (I'm aware sozzles' isn't a word but it seems a fitting description.) It makes the whole task frightfully more enjoyable.
So as we come into Fathers day and the final family gathering we will have before I head back over to London and I couldn't be happier than to relieve mum of the cooking pressures and let here mellow down with a great Australian red.
This is the joyful thing about food. For foodies there is no greater pleasure than cooking for others and the reward you get from seeing people coming together simply to eat and be with each other. When I think back on great memories most of them have involved a good meal and coffee with friends and family.
I'm still finalising the menu for Sunday but I'm thinking Blue cheese, pear and rocket salad and a pork roast of some sort as a final farewell to winter. You can't go wrong with crunchy crackling and sweet seasonal apples. Finally for grandad I'm making my sticky date pudding. Under the watchful eye of my grandmother I doubt he has had many opportunities to indulge in this his favourite dessert. I can't wait.

Zokoko Emu Heights

In other developing food encounters this week and in keeping with the local produce theme, Ben and I headed to 'Morgans' at Emu heights. My fellow Blue Mountainers will be familiar with this coffee house as the Mountains boasts many great cafes which carry this brand of coffee. From bean to cup owner Dean Morgan is truly passionate about the perfect cup of coffee and at the office in Emu Heights you can taste the result, straight from the source. Years of searching for the perfect equiptment to accompany the perfect raw produce are evident as I had one of the best coffee's I have ever had. The office cafe is small but modern and there are a few tables if you want to put your feet up and watch the machinery through the window. Most excitingly Dean's wife Michelle has developed the same passion for chocolate and the company has now launched Zokoko (also the name of of the cafe in Emu Heights) which specialise in hand crafted chocolate. What a special thing to have so close to home! There really is a huge gap in the Australian market for bean to bar quality chocolate and I can't wait to sink my teeth into a piece when dad opens his father's day present. 

Hope everyone has a great Fathers Day!

xlaura

Keeping it local

End of World War two saw the immigration boom hit Australia. They brought their skills, they brought their music, they brought their cousins and they brought their food.
Growing up in suburban Sydney I have always been surrounded by international food and ingredients and its no secret that our Australian culinary identity has really grown out of this access and exposure to all types of food from across the globe.
It seems ironic then that the very culture in which we derive all these tastes from, particularly in Europe, adopt a proudly regional and localised tradition in cooking. Recipes and menus are decided upon by the seasonable and regional changes in ingredients. The food of an area is therefore dictated by the freshest and best ingredients..unique to that location.

I love this idea. I love traveling somewhere, experiencing the food and thinking 'I will never taste this again' at least not of the same quality and unashamedly simple form. I think this is largely why the food in Europe is so fantastic. It is a celebration of an ingredient, no fuss simple food.

It is such a shame that Australia has seemed to have lost this sense of local produce cooking in the home. Perhaps even more upsetting is seeing the trend echoed in England, who is just a stone's through from Europe's market mecca. Gone are the morning food markets, gone are the local butcher, baker and candle stick maker, gone is the time capsule of rural living. In its place is a society so built on convenience that the supermarkets are king. The bloody wars between Tesco, Sainsbury and Asda are more cut throat than the current Australian election campaign.

It is a movement sweeping the globe to think international but source local. The issue covers climatic concerns relating to the food mile (click here for more info), general interest in quality flavour, not to mention the fact that there are plenty of struggling farmers out there we can support. Jamie Oliver has echoed such concerns in his recent 'Food Revolution' and self confessed 'lunatic farmer' Joel Salatin was out recently to Australia to promote the importance of local produce. As the Australian restaurant industry is becoming increasingly competitive, I notice this trend beginning to echo in the menus which is a real credit to the Australian culinary community and looks to close this disconnect so many of us have between our meals and the produce.

Being the supermarket slut that I am I am now endeavoring to remove my blinkers and explore the frontier of local produce.
I am currently visiting family and friends in Australia and recently came back from a road trip up the east coast of Australia where I was thrilled to finally be a tourist in my own country,

It was truly a delight watching the landscape of Australia change from dense Sydney scrub to tall forestry followed by sandy olive groves, lush farming land, rolling rows of banana trees, sugarcane plantations and lush rainforest's. As the landscape changed so too did the produce of the small open roadside stalls and my partner Ben often had to think quick as I noticed new rusty blackboard signs promising the bud of new locally grown produce and creations.

One such gem I found was the variety of lemon myrtle products which I have never had before including yoghurt's, biscuits, teas and honey. Derived from a rainforest tree the flavour has hints of lime and lemongrass and whilst most of the forms I came across were in the shape of desserts I am keen to experiment with the 'taste of the rainforest' honey I picked up in Byron Bay in Asian cooking. I will keep you posted...

x laura