Travel like a foodie | thefidgetyfoodie

Tassie’s Top 5

Posted on June 4, 2021 by thefidgetyfoodie

I was a bit late to the Tasmania party. While seemingly everyone else has been skipping through Salamanca markets and MONA, or hiking the Three Capes – I only recently experienced the Apple Isle for myself.

There were 5 foodie highlights for me. At one point there were 7; I took out gin because that deserves a deep dive of its own. I also took out salmon thanks to Richard Flanagan’s book Toxic, which has left me horrified and scarred over the Tasmanian salmon industry.

Scallop pie

Full disclosure – I had my doubts about the scallop pie. I adore scallops and could eat them a dozen ways but swimming in a creamy sauce infused with curry powder was not high on my list. I generally believe that the less you do with seafood the better – some lemon and possibly a dab of butter/olive oil for a light sauté/bbq is all you need.

No one is exactly sure about the provenance of the scallop pie (although rumours it’s a descendant of devilled scallops seem sound), only that eating one in Tassie is mandatory. My pie had around 4-5 big whole scallops enveloped in a creamy sauce stained by Keen’s Curry. It has to be Keen’s as the 150y old spice mix actually heralds from Hobart. I grew up watching my dad pile tablespoons of the stuff onto all sorts of delicious dishes (poor mum) and I’ve never quite understood the allure – but I do think the packaging is iconic.

The pie was actually quite tasty and the scallop to sauce ratio was impressive. Definitely one to try for the simple quirkiness of it all.

Saltbush

I am (sadly) no bush tucker woman. But thanks to my regular trips to Margaret River and a few lessons in foraging by Peter Kuruvita, I have come to recognise saltbush when I see it. And I saw lots of it along the stunning beaches of the Bay of Fires. My hiking pals thought I was mad when I started grabbing leaves and chewing them energetically. Coastal saltbush grows on beaches and around salt lakes all over Australia but sadly I’ve never seen it on the NSW coast (although it pops up on menus here and there – like the Archie Rose distillery who use a sprig of saltbush as a garnish for their martinis). There is something very liberating about eating the natural ingredients around you (and not being poisoned).

Oysters

I love all seafood but oysters in particular. There were oyster farms littered all along the coast line of the mainland and Bruny Island and I couldn’t pass without picking up a cheeky dozen. I always looked in pity at the people who bought a dozen to share. My only hesitation was whether to buy two dozen…

Plump and creamy Pacific oysters are generally the order of the day in Tassie as they take half as long to grow as the native flat oyster, the Angasi, which was almost harvested to extinction in the 20^th century (even through Indigenous communities have been enjoying them for thousands of years). They are now sustainably grown and harvested from oyster beds to ensure this doesn’t happen again. I was a bit early for the Angasi season so will have to try them on my next trip, but the Pacifics were delicious and needed no more than a squeeze of lemon to reach perfection.

Cheese

The cheese game in Tassie was delightfully strong. It really punches above its weight – producing 10% of Australia’s cheese despite being home to only 2% of the Aussie population. All that rain comes in handy for creating fertile land.

The lush North East highlands are known for their cheese, especially cheddar. I almost bought a giant cloth bound wheel of it from Pyengana Dairy (actually why didn’t I? Oh that’s right, I maxed out my weight allocation on gin). The farmstead cheddar comes from an 1885 recipe passed through the family. It’s the sharpest, craggiest version of this dinner table stalwart I’ve come across. And even better when mixed with pickled onions – unconventional but a genius ideas.

And did I mention the cows choose when to be milked via an automated system? Their incentive is grain and a mechanical back-scratch. No wonder all the cows looked so satisfied.

While I’m always a fan of a bit of cheddar, what I love even more is a pungent, unctuous washed rind cheese. The sort that leaves an indelible scent in its wake. I specifically wanted to try the famous washed rind cheese from the Bruny Island Cheese Co. called 1792, the year French explorers first landed in Tassie. This cheese is matured on a small round of local Huon pine (revered in Tassie), which gives it a subtle smoky flavour. It was a sensational cheese and I couldn’t help but think how brilliant the Huon pine element was, both from a taste and marketing perspective.

Pinot

I need to declare a bias and that is that I am a white wine kind of girl. If you ask me what wine I feel like, regardless of what I’m eating (yes Katia, even cheese!) red will never be my first choice. I will happily drink it, but it will never be the wine I turn to first. That’s probably why I start wine tastings with gusto, then run out of steam in the middle before perking up right at the end when the sticky comes out.

So it surprised no one more than me when I realised I was starting to like Tassie pinot more than I thought possible. Its softness and fruit seemed that little bit kinder on my palate. I’ve always had soft spot for cool climate wine regions like Canberra and Orange so this might have been a factor too. And I may possibly have been a bit caught up in the romanticism of a bit of grape picking (next year’s pinot release). I know from experience in Alsace this is hard yakka so was happy with just a light touch effort this time. Cheers to that!

Pondering Palermo

Posted on October 11, 2020 by thefidgetyfoodie

Ballaro Market, Palermo

I feel exceptionally fortunate to have a head (plus several hard drives and 20+ travel diaries) full of extraordinary travel memories. If my home was on fire they’re the first things I’d grab. Along with my Smeg fridge (as I fully expect adrenalin would kick in and make light work of lifting my 85kg beauty).

Those memories are particularly sweet in a time when travel is nigh on impossible. It’s a cracker of a first world problem when so many are in strife but I can’t help but feel sad about unlived adventures. Which is even more reason to relish the happy experiences I’ve banked up.

Exactly two years ago I was in Sicily with two dear friends and it was one of the best experiences of my life. Sicily is positively intoxicating. And while I would go back to Taormina in a heartbeat for those exquisite gelato brioche buns and Syracuse for piled-high paninis, it was Palermo that especially grabbed me because of its effortless cool.

My partner in culinary crime agrees that Palermo’s charisma would pull us both back in a heartbeat. The food was exceptional, as it is in all corners of Sicily, but the edgy vibe and tangle of laneways left us craving more. It’s the perfect city for the flâneur (and flâneuse) to wander with abandon.

When I go back this is what I’ll want to relive.

Cool laneway bars

Palermo makes Melbourne’s laneway bar scene look tame and that’s saying something. Bars were nestled in all sorts of random nooks and crannies, often slightly crumbling like most of the city.

Always dimly lit and a bit dingy, it did not seem a stretch of the imagination to assume there were Mafioso-type deals going on around us. Slick cocktails with aperitivo thrown in (free snacks to whet the appetite) meant we were in heaven.

Ricardo kept us entertained with his gold accessories and quick tongue

Comical market stall holders

The street markets of Palermo are magical, each snaking languidly through the narrow streets. The colours and character were such a delight and every stall held something exciting; from glimmering produce to stacks of fresh fish and crustaceans. The most endearing part to me though were the entertaining stall holders, seemingly professional comedians who just happened to use a stall in place of a stage. They’d capture your attention and hold it – through compliments, jokes and gentle teasing. I never needed a heavy duty sales pitch because I was always eager beaver to try their wares but it was fun watching them dial their charm up to the highest rating.

Gelato anywhere, any time, all the time

I expected to see gelato everywhere but I did not expect to be eating it for breakfast. But who am I to argue with a well-worn tradition? Having come from Taormina where granita and brioche was the standard breakfast combination, gelato and brioche seemed completely normal. The gelato was always creamy, intense and popping with flavour. After experiencing the pistachio festival in Bronte just days before I only had eyes for the pastel green hues of my new favourite nut.

Arancini

These babies are really worth a post of their own. Could any other single food be so perfect in every way? Maybe scotch eggs. Arancini in Sicily are as ubiquitous as hot dogs in New York but much more creative. I already thought I’d died and gone to heaven when I experienced pistachio and porchetta arancini in Bronte, stuffed with mozzarella, crumbed and fried. Swoon. But Palermo had its own riff on classics, like roasted pork, sweet ‘n’ sour onion and smoked scamorza cheese or Nebrodi black pig ragout. The best part was watching the world go by while we ate them.

The produce

It’s actually a shame we didn’t make a concerted effort to do some cooking (impossible because we were too busy eating every type of street food we could find) because the produce was unbelievable. Zucchinis that were a metre long. Vegetables in shades I didn’t think possible!

I was so taken by the violet aubergine (yes aubergine is already ‘purple’ but really it’s black. This was purple!) that I was trying to work out how I could get a bag back to Sydney without being arrested (I couldn’t so I didn’t).

Flash fried sardines with lemon – street food at its best

The seafood

I was born to love seafood; it’s in my genes thanks to Greek island lineage and grandfathers who worked in fish shops and restaurants when they moved to Australia. Nothing excites me more than fresh seafood and it’s everywhere you look in the markets. Sardines caught that morning would be flash fried and served with lashings of fresh lemon juice. Fantastic.

Then there were the ostriches (yes confused me at first too) which came with free wine. Free wine! The ostriches were oysters shucked on the spot and full of salty briny goodness. The wine wasn’t half bad either.

Perfectly grilled cow intestine by our friend Ricardo

Offal

It’s contentious to admit but I love offal. Greeks and Italians are similar here – we eat the whole animal because for a long time we couldn’t have survived otherwise. I find most people have a mental block about eating the innards of an animal but the flavour always belies the mind. Intestines, tripe and the like are as common as any other cut in Sicily and every stall we came across had long lines of hungry customers. I was particularly enamoured with cow intestine; grilled to perfection with salt and lemon by one of our favourite ‘comedians’.

This spleen sandwich was a culinary highlight

Then there’s Palermo’s spleen sandwich, one of its most iconic street foods. Pani ca’ Meusa is made from boiled cow spleen, lung and trachea which are then fried in pig lard right before eating. It’s piled on a bun and sprinkled with ricotta and caciocavallo cheese. It’s rich but oh so tasty, especially as the oil soaks into the bread nicely.

Rainbow colours

I love colour. One in particular for anyone who knows me (PURPLE!) but actually I don’t discriminate. My eye is always drawn to the brightest colour in the room, on the street or on the plate.

Palermo itself is all shades of grey and shadows but layered on top are pops of colour everywhere – from the produce I’ve already waxed lyrical about to the intense marzipan fruits (far too pretty to eat) that could have been art. I can’t wait until I’m surrounded by Palermo’s palette once again.

14 food rules of Colombia

Posted on March 13, 2020 by thefidgetyfoodie

Settling in to the Colombian lifestyle

Colombia is where I started my big South American adventure last year and it will always hold a special place in my heart. Luckily my local guide let my appetite lead the way through every meal, market and farm (thanks Hector). As usual I had the best fun, and learnt the most about the country, culture and people through eating. And these are the food rules I learnt along the way.

An avocado that’s almost the size of my head!

1. Put avocadoes on and in everything
The running joke in Australia is that millennials can’t afford mortgages because they spend all their money on (expensive) smashed avocado on toast. This is clearly not an issue in Colombia because avocados are not only cheap they are MASSIVE. One could feed an entire family. Twice. That explains why avocados can be found in every meal. Having said that I did find the larger the avocado the less flavoursome it was. A bit like prawns. But they certainly made light work of guacamole.

Street-style ceviche

2. Colombian ceviche is…. Different
I’m all for experimentation and new flavour combos. But some things are perfect the way they are and one of those things is ceviche. The original dish created in Peru is simply raw fish/seafood marinated and ‘cooked’ by fresh citrus juice, with a few accoutrements like coriander, red onion, tomato and fried corn. I have to admit I was horrified to order it in Colombia and find it doused in tomato sauce, i.e. ketchup! Why, WHY????? It killed it for me.

Sapote, one of the many exotic fruits on offer in Colombia

3. So many fruits, so little time
I was blown away by how many different fruits exist in Colombia. I tried to get a handle on them all by taking photos of each and making lists and eventually gave up. It’s such a tease as most can’t be found elsewhere. Especially not Australia. Guana’bana, curuba, tomate de arbol, mamoncillo, chirimoya…. How I miss you all! And the best part was picking up freshly chopped fruit on any street corner for next to nothing. It’s an outrage that I now have to cut up my own mango every day.

A fresh batch of my beloved lulada

4. There’s fruit and there’s fruit juice
Fruit juice is expensive in Australia so I always regard it as a luxury. It’s the opposite in Colombia where fruit is cheap and plentiful and fresh juice is a meal staple. Colombians eat a lot of heavy fried food so I honestly believe it’s the juice that keeps them in check. My absolute favourite was lulada made from lulo – a fruit only found in Colombia and Ecuador where it’s called naranjilla. Sweet, tangy and fresh, I drank it constantly. Perfect in cocktails too!

My beloved lulada, couldn’t get enough of this stuff

o5. That little bit extra
Hector introduced me to the concept of ñapa, or ‘that little bit extra’. It’s the lulada left in the blender which the vendor uses to top up your cup once you’ve made some room. The extra serve of soup at the markets. A couple of extra maracuyá over the kilo because, well why not? It says a lot about the spirit of generosity that lives inside a lot of Colombians which warmed my heart whenever I experienced it. Read More

Why I love Oaxaca – Mexico’s gastronomic heart

Posted on August 4, 2019 by thefidgetyfoodie

Why I heart Oaxaca – Mexico’s gastronomic heart_the fidgety foodie

Oaxaca’s stunning Templo de Santo Domingo

Let’s get the awkwardness out of the way shall we?

I know exactly what you’re thinking. So many vowels in one word. And what does one do with that ‘x’? You could spend hours trying to work out how to pronounce Oaxaca but I’ll spare you. ‘Wahaca’ is the phonetic pronunciation, and by happenstance is also a chain of Mexican restaurants in the UK. Clearly the founder didn’t think ‘Oaxaca’ would cut through on the high street.

All the good stuff and more…

Oaxaca had been sitting in the periphery of my greedy mind for quite some time. I knew from reading food press and listening to general foodie chit chat that Oaxaca was a True. Foodie. Heaven. Up there with San Sebastian. Bangkok. Palermo. How could a city famous for seven moles be anything but?

Piles of the Oaxcan cheese I am so enamoured with

I’d tried to squeeze it into a previous trip to Mexico but knew even then that a few days would not do. I’d argue that my ensuing 10 day trip did not quite cut the mustard either but it was at least enough time to eat an extraordinary amount of delicious and unique dishes, many of which can’t be found elsewhere in Mexico.

Tamales stuffed with Oaxacan cheese and zucchini flowers, made by yours truly

It would take me days, even weeks, to list all the dishes that need to be tried in Oaxaca. Some have travelled over the border well – enchiladas (although vastly different from the Tex Mex version), tamales, tostadas. Others were brand new to me – tlayudas, tetelas, memelitas. There are so many things you can do with a tortilla it made my head spin; Mexicans are true origamists.

Freshly frothed hot chocolate with pan de yema

You’d certainly have to start at one of the incredible markets. Mercado Benito Juárez, Mercado 20 de Noviembre and Central de Abastos are all terrific but for a traditional breakfast it has to be Mercado La Merced. My local friend Oscar introduced me to the delights of frothy hot chocolate with pan de yema and its similarly sweet starchy friends. Dip the carby delights into frothy hot chocolate for a sweet kickstart to your day.

Memelitas and enchiladas – a robust way to start the day

Then move onto something savoury such as memelitas (fried tortillas with tomato, chilli, beans and fresh cheese) and enchiladas – not rolled in Tex Mex style but rather layered like a loose lasagne, doused in a green chilli mole and topped with the stretchy Oaxacan cheese I find so addictive. Plus a side of fried beef short ribs for good luck. Read More

How to eat in Lima

Posted on March 30, 2019 by thefidgetyfoodie

Ceviche and pisco sours = a match made in heaven

Lima is a famed culinary hot spot. Boasting three restaurants on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants list (on par with New York and Tokyo) and many several celebrity chefs, it’s known as the gastronomic heartland of South America. And it’s true. Almost everything I ate was considered and delicious. But I experienced two very different approaches to Limeño food.

One of many variations on a pisco sour

The Lima that most travellers see revolves around the hip central areas of Miraflores and Barranco and has been finessed to perfection. These areas are clean, sophisticated and importantly safe. Of course that’s where travellers go. That’s exactly where I stayed over several weekends.

A view of Saint Martin de Porres from the gym (which I frequented to work through all those carbs)

But Lima is a city of 9.7 million (30% of Peru’s population) and not everyone can afford these desirable suburbs. The city has sprawled extensively to cope with the population influx and the outskirts of Lima are an entirely different proposition to the centre. I came to appreciate this when I spent weeks volunteering at an NGO school for disadvantaged children in Saint Martin de Porres. It’s a mere 20km from central Lima but the difference in living conditions could not be more stark.

However it was the difference in eating which really fascinated me.

Peru’s impressive coastline

Think of Peru and you think ceviche and pisco sours, si? During my time in Saint Martin de Porres I didn’t come close to either. Yet in central Lima you can’t take two steps without tripping over a stylish venue that offers both.
Peru has an enviably long coastline and despite laying claim to just 0.1% of the world’s sea it produces 10% of the world’s seafood. But I found that people in Saint Martin de Porres rarely ate seafood. Partly because of the cost and partly because they are so enamoured with chicken that they have no time for seafood.

The local chicken shop in Saint Martin de Porres

Chicken and carbs are what sustain most Peruvians day in and day out. Rice, potatoes, bread. Heaven help you if you’re celiac. And if you’re a vegetarian it’s huevos for you. One vegetarian volunteer found herself eating rice and eggs three times a day while at the school.

Quinoa and potato stew with rice – for lunch and dinner

I marvelled at how many carbs could be amalgamated into one meal. Quinoa and potato stew with rice was the epitome of this approach. For lunch and dinner. With bread for breakfast. Salad and vegetables did not feature heavily. Or at all.

Peruvians are also extremely religious. They pray before every meal. They don’t really drink. And off topic slightly, because they live at home until marriage there are literally thousands of ‘hostals’ offering rooms by the hour for romantic dalliances that could never happen at home. Read More

Pistachio festival in Bronte, Sicily

Posted on January 13, 2019 by thefidgetyfoodie

Me in my pistachio element

Food festivals are my thing. Especially when they are built around an esoteric food item in an obscure place. Like the kurtoshkalacs festival in Budapest. Or the Kytherian wine festival in Mitata. Bring it on.

The famous pistachio pasta

Pistachios are not exactly rare but to me they’ve always sat at the more exotic end of the nut scale. I’ve always associated pistachios with my Sicilian bestie Katia who uses them in a pasta recipe handed down from her nonna. Crushed pistachios envelop pancetta and cream to create a dish that makes grown men weep with pleasure. I’ve actually seen it happen.

Warm faces welcome you to the Expo del Pistacchio

One of my foodie dreams came true last year when I had the opportunity to travel through Sicily with Katia during its iconic pistachio festival, Expo del Pistacchio. I was beyond excited.

Imposing Mt Etna

Pistachios are a big deal in Bronte because they are arguably the best in the world. Why? Because Bronte (which incidentally means ‘thunder’) sits at the base of Mt Etna and the pistachio trees grow out of the volcanic lava rock. The minerals in the lava soil are absorbed by the plants to create a distinctive nut which is sweet and fragrant.

Salame pistacchio

So distinctive in fact that in 2009 they were granted the coveted DOP marque (Protected Designation of Origin), which guarantees locally grown and harvested produce using traditional methods. In the case of Bronte pistachios that means only picking, hulling and drying the pistachios by hand every two years to protect the trees and quality.

2018 was not a harvest year but you’d scarcely have known. Supplies are held back in the year of harvest to ensure there’s enough for the following year, especially for the famous festival.

Ahh the festival. For two weekends in October at the end of harvest, the entire town shuts down to pay homage to this revered nut. Everyone from chubby cheeked babies to nonnas clutching walking frames are littered across the length of the main drag. This is passeggiata (the Italian ritual of strolling through town each evening) on steroids.

Pistachio gelato topped with ground pistachios

How many pistachio flavoured things have you eaten in your life? Pistachio gelato, maybe pistachio amaretti? You’ve basically just been warming up. The Sicilians have mastered the preparation of this deep green and purple nut to perfection. Read More

8 things you probably didn’t know about Champagne

Posted on December 28, 2018 by thefidgetyfoodie

There’s one thing I’ve always known about Champagne – I love it. It’s not just the taste. It’s the sense of occasion that comes with the popping of the cork, the bubbles and the instant joie de vivre. Plus I’ve long admired it from a marketing perspective. I can’t think of another category where the branding, merchandising and general fervor created is as slick. Well maybe jewellery (would you like some metal with that Tiffany blue box?).

I knew I’d eventually make my way to the region in question and when I did I was almost more interested in the provenance of the stuff than drinking it. Almost. I learnt a few things that surprised me – and may just surprise you.

8 things you may not know about Champagne

Christian Lacuisse from Champagne Lacuisse Freres demonstrates a stage of the méthode champenoise

1. Bubbles in wine were originally a fault (and definitely not a selling point)

Before ‘Champagne’ came along, the Champagne region produced only still wines and nondescript versions at that. Wine with bubbles was the result of an accidental second fermentation in the bottle and more often than not the bottle would explode as a result of the pressure. Even if the bottle didn’t explode, the wine was likely to be undrinkable. At a time when winemakers didn’t understand the science behind fermentation, the sparkling stuff was a liability and certainly not a tempting proposition to drink or sell.

8 things you probably didn't know about Champagne

Pinot noir grapes growing in Sermiers, a town in the Champagne region

2. Champagne is made from three grapes

Think of the iconic wines tethered to a single terroir and often they are a single variety such as Burgundy (100% Pinot Noir grapes), White Burgundy (100% Chardonnay grapes) and Chablis (also 100% Chardonnay grapes). So it may come as a surprise that Champagne is almost always a blend of three grapes – Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier and Chardonnay. Yes – two red grapes and one white. So why isn’t Champagne a red wine? Because the grapes are pressed gently during production and there’s no skin contact during fermentation which is what generally gives wine its colour.

Champagne bottles are stored in the underground caves of the Taittinger Cellars in Reims

3. Dom Perignon was NOT the granddaddy of Champagne

Not only did the Dom not invent Champagne, it’s highly unlikely he ever even made sparkling Champagne. Dom Perignon was the cellarmaster of his abbey from 1668 to 1715 when fizzy wines were widely considered faulty – it’s more likely that he spent his time trying to prevent his wines from sparkling. This is in stark contrast to the more modern persona built up around him which romanticises his role in the creation of Champagne. Certainly his still wines were highly regarded at the time, but he did not exclaim to his fellow monks to “come quickly, I am tasting the stars!”. This was in fact exclaimed in a print ad almost two hundred years after his death. But why let the truth get in the way of a compelling brand story?

The Pommery sommeliers take their jobs very seriously

4. The region didn’t initially want to produce wine with bubbles

Champagne was always a still wine region but in the first half of the 18^th century the still wines of the region were not selling due to competition from other French wine regions. The locals were desperate for an edge and had noticed an international interest in sweetened wine with bubbles so begrudgingly and out of economic desperation started to produce more of the sparkling stuff. Read More

7 things you must eat in Hawaii

Posted on April 16, 2018 by thefidgetyfoodie

Poke on the beach is about as Hawaiian as you can get.

‘‘Let’s go to Hawaii!’’ exclaimed my excited bestie Katia.

‘‘Umm… really?’’ was my hesitant response. I travel to eat and apart from poke what’s exciting to eat in Hawaii I thought.

‘Just look at all these cool food tours….’ she continued. Well that got my attention. Food tours are one of my all-time favourite activities when travelling (and a key to being a good foodie). I was in.

Tako or octopus poke

And Hawaii did not disappoint. Sure you can easily eat nothing but fast food the whole time (in fact you can do that anywhere). But with a little research and observation, there’s a treasure trove of foods that represent the indigenous Hawaiian traditions interlaced with all the other cultures that have impacted the remote islands since Western settlement including Portuguese, Japanese and Chinese.

Here are 7 things you MUST track down. Read More

My celebrity cooking class in Brazil

Posted on January 20, 2018 by thefidgetyfoodie

the fidgety foodie_celebrity cooking class in Paraty Brazil

Yara teaches me how to make the iconic Brazilian fish stew, moqueca

One of my favourite experiences in Brazil last year was a cooking class with the Brazilian version of Nigella, Yara Castro Roberts. I was wandering the cobbled streets of Paraty and happened to see the sign for Yara’s school, The Academy of Cooking & Other Pleasures (what a name!) and lucky for me they had a space for that night.

Yara used to have her own Emmy-nominated Brazilian cooking show, and hails from the gastronomic heart of Brazil, Minas Gerais. Along with her American/French husband Richard they operate cooking classes out of their very chic terrace home. But cooking class is really not the right description as we did very little cooking – instead they took us on a historical and cultural journey through the history of Brazil told through food – with plenty of edible reference material along the way. And when I finally left at 1am I had the distinct feeling I’d been dining with friends all evening.

Richard muddles fresh limes for a round of caipirinhas

The night started as many do in Brazil – with caipirinhas. Richard whipped them up on a smart drinks trolley as he started offering background info on Brazilian food. Today’s cuisine is built on three very distinct legs – Indigenous, Portuguese and African. Over time the indigenous ingredients which sustained the native Brazilians have been appropriated by the Portuguese who came to conquer and influenced by the Africans they brought with them to work as slaves.

I didn’t drink all of these caipirinhas, but it was tempting

The key indigenous staple that virtually props up every Brazilian dish is the starchy root manioc – also known as cassava, yucca or tapioca. It’s native to Brazil and has always been essential to the diet. It’s incredibly versatile and can be boiled, baked, steamed, grilled, fried and mashed plus ground into flour and used as a thickening agent. Other popular indigenous ingredients hailing from the Amazon are the superfruit açaí and berry guaraná, used to make energy drinks.

Our entree of farofa-stuffed tomatoes with haloumi

The second leg of Brazilian food comes from the Portuguese, who came to the country looking for gold and never left. They were the first to plant corn which was used to make polenta and introduced a bean concoction which has become the country’s signature dish, feijoada. Not to mention eggy breads and salt cod or bacalao.

Dende is derived from palm trees and used extensively in Brazilian dishes

Yara also talked us through ingredients that came to Brazil via the African slaves, like coconut milk, dende (an extract from the palm tree), palm hearts and okra. These ingredients infiltrate much of the African food that’s still very distinctive in Brazil, especially around Salvador where dishes like acarajé, a fritter made with beans and fried in palm oil, are very popular. Read More

From a Russian cooking class with love

Posted on January 19, 2017 by thefidgetyfoodie

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Carefully hand making each and every pelmeni – a Russian staple

I did lots of cool things when I went to Russia last year – like staring in awe from the front row of the Bolshoi ballet and being battered (in a good way) with birch leaves during a traditional banya.

But my favourite experience was the Taste of Russia cooking class I took in Moscow. Not just because I got to cook (which I love) and eat (which I love even more), but because I spent the day with real Muscovites who let me drill them about their lives, their diets, their family and their future.

The day didn’t start well. Ever tried to take the Moscow subway? It’s ridiculously intense. I’m no stranger to large rail systems – I can navigate the tube with my eyes closed and have never had any issues in cities like New York and Paris (except when my sister and I went through two at a time and were almost arrested by French police but that’s another story).

Moscow is a different beast. The subway is HUGE and there isn’t a single direction in English, nor did anyone I ask for help speak English. I can read a decent amount of Cyrillic thanks to its likeness to the Greek alphabet but on my first full day in Russia, pre-coffee, I struggled. I’m not usually one to give up but I did and left the metro thinking a cab had to be an easier option.

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Flipping syrniki – Russian cottage cheese pancakes

Wrong. The traffic in Moscow is a disaster. It’s all one way so the layout forces cars to go in unnecessary directions. Plus I couldn’t see a cab rank or a single cab for that matter and I had no wifi to book an uber. So it was a deep breath and back down to the metro for me, where I finally worked out where to go and made it to the cooking class meeting point with just a minute to spare. Phew!

I arrived to find I was the only person there. Was everyone else late too?

No, it transpired that I was the only person in the class. That was music to my ears. A private market tour and cooking class to myself, what a score!

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My foodie dream team of Nadia, Milena and Zhukova

Firstly I was escorted to the Dorogomilovo market, one of Moscow’s largest, with ‘the chief’ Zhukova, her daughter Milena and daughter-in-law Nadia. A family affair!

The market was so fabulous it deserves a post of its own but essentially we picked up all the ingredients for lunch and I got to try tastings of whatever I pointed to. Which was a lot. Quite often I’d point to something and request identification; if Milena, whose English was excellent, didn’t know the word in English she’d whip out her iphone and google translate it for me.

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Zhukova ‘the chief’ runs the kitchen

From the market we drove 20 minutes away to the kitchen, a modest size room filled with a big table and cooking accoutrements. Our menu for the day included Siberian pelmeni (dumplings with a beef filling), borsch and syrniki (cottage cheese pancakes) with apricot ‘jam’. Zhukova put me straight to work – chopping onions, working dough and stewing apricots while I quizzed her on the provenance of the dishes and life in Russia.

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Zhukova shows me how the dough for pelmeni is rolled out

I learnt that pelmeni are the backbone of Russian home cooking and women are scrutinised on their pelmeni style and output. There’s the proper way to make them and the shortcut route but I got the impression that serious Russian cooks knew exactly which path they should follow. Read More