Mallorca | thefidgetyfoodie

Getting souped up for winter

Posted on June 1, 2015 by thefidgetyfoodie

Lifting the lid on Transylvanian ciorbă soup

Today is the first day of winter in Australia.

And it’s cold!!! Cold for Aussies means fifteen degrees. Brrrghhh.

It’s sprung up on us because we generally skip autumn and go from the rays of summer straight into a determined chill. It always takes me by surprise and yes, I’m subsequently writing this in a robe and slippers.

So it seems like the perfect time to talk soup and I have many fond memories to ladle out.

Ciorbă soup housed in a dome of bread

Like this ciorbă de fasole cu costiţă afumată soup I had in Sighișoara, Romania last year. I’d heard about an infamous Transylvanian soup, in this case made with beans and smoked ham served in bread, and wanted to track it down. The soup was just as dramatic as the medieval fortress of Sighișoara itself and so delicious. I took particular joy in scraping the inside to extract broth-soaked bread, layer by layer.

Filled with a heady bean, pork and spice laden soup

I only made it about halfway through before my stomach gave up. It filled me up for a day and was only 15 lei – around €4.

Freshly served elk soup

My good old friend, Estonian elk soup, is the ultimate comfort food in a bowl, served alongside elk pies and pickles and accessorised with a complimentary Estonian wench to serve and rouse on guests.

I wonder if there’s a symbiotic relationship between how cold you feel and how much you enjoy your soup – I’d say definitely yes.

I remember feeling like an icy pole when I went to Iceland. And I was there in summer.

I constantly took refuge in the shops to momentarily melt and peruse expensive wool jumpers.

Icelandic fish soup served on a delightful fish plate

In between I’d dart out for a hot dog and then some Icelandic fish soup which is rich, warming and full local seafood. My all-time favourite bowl was in Húsavík (the self-appointed whale watching capital of the world) with my friends Elfa and Siggi.

That’s borscht at the front, vegetable soup at the back

My favourite soup for colour is always borscht and the versions I tried in Poland, especially at quirky milk bars, were sensational. The milk bars often serve a hot and cold version, both equally cerise and equally good, especially alongside a pierogi or five.

A line up of traditional Hungarian soups

Now let’s talk about goulash.

But that’s not a soup; I can hear your muttering.

Well in Hungary it is. Somehow the rest of the world misread the brief and turned it into more of a stew-like dish but on its home turf, gulyás is decidedly a soup. And boy do the Hungarians do an excellent job in merchandising this signature dish.

Every festival or event you go to will have at least one stand with a cauldron-esque contraption full of the steaming stuff. They ladle out the beef and vegetable broth enthusiastically and serve it with chunks of bread.

Tureens of rich Irish seafood chowder

I can’t talk soup without talking Irish seafood chowder. My most memorable bowl was in Doolin, a windswept cliff-hugging town in County Clare. Local seafood, tender potatoes and cream combine like some kind of x-rated threesome. It’s the only thing one should eat at the local pub with the bellow of traditional Irish music in the background.

Perfectly chilled gazpacho

As a final wild card I’m going to throw in gazpacho – that’s for those of you on the other side of the world. I love love love gazpacho and don’t think I’ve ever had a bad version anywhere in Spain. This one came from Mallorca and the refreshing chill of the tomato, garlic and chilli was the perfect accompaniment to the hot sun of the island.

It almost makes me want to take off my slippers…

A year of heart stopping coffee moments

Posted on January 1, 2015 by thefidgetyfoodie

A perfect Leipzig coffee

A day doesn’t pass when a cup of the good stuff doesn’t pass my lips. Not because I’m addicted or because it gives me an energy boost (although I’m not denying either of those points).

Rather my daily coffee is a ritual. The where, how and who are just as important as the what. What use is great coffee in a soulless room with a lone grumpy staffer playing bad music? Only the whole coffee package will percolate through my memory long after the event.

Steffen and his portable Lieblingskaffee

I had my first heart stopping coffee moment in the east German city of Leipzig. My friends Marc and Kathleen took me to Lene Voigt Park, a stunning expanse of green which seemed strangely elongated until I discovered it’s on the site of old train tracks. Here they introduced me Steffen who runs Lieblingskaffee, literally meaning ‘favourite coffee’.

Steffen takes his time making each filter coffee

Steffen cycles his café into the park daily and sets up camp. Everything he needs is cleverly packed away and unfolded when needed. Ikea would have a field day with this design. Steffen takes his time with each coffee – carefully filtering it to deliver a smooth and sprightly cup.

Hanging out in Lene Voigt Park

The coffee was tasty. But the moment was heaven. A roaring sun, Marc strumming away on his guitar, locals stopping by to say hi. If you’re ever in Leipzig, you must track down Steffen and this idyllic park.

Classic Irish coffee – just don’t ask for the recipe

In Ireland, if you mention ‘the good stuff’ they inevitably think you want a pint of Guinness. Thankfully Irish coffee is as ubiquitous as stout, unfortunately the recipe is almost as carefully guarded. Neven and I couldn’t find a single bartender who would reveal the recipe and they purposely made it out of eye’s sight, dammit.

Can you tell which one is the Irish coffee?

A quick google revealed it was as simple as hot coffee, Irish whiskey and sugar, topped with an almost impermeable layer of thick cream. After a chilly day exploring the Connemara district, nothing is more welcoming than a warm pub, cosy fire and large glass of this delicious concoction.

Getting some perspective at Monmouth Coffee

And now over to London’s Monmouth Coffee. Big deal I hear you saying. Monmouth Coffee tops every ‘best coffee’ list in London so it’s hardly an unsung hero or undiscovered gem. But by god is it marvellous. The coffee itself is of course sublime – a good body, distinct caramel notes and organic Jersey whole milk make the best latte of your life. But it tastes all the more special when you’re perched precariously on a wooden stool that took twenty minute of shameless hovering to secure, looking down at the mayhem of Borough Market. Then turn you gaze turns upwards to the arresting figure of the Shard. Now that’s a money-can’t-buy view.

In Sweden I become a fika fiend

Accoutrements are important for any coffee experience. And in Sweden that means kanelbulle or cinnamon buns. I’ve exposed my weakness for these babies before but it’s not just me – all Swedes are engineered to consume coffee and kanelbulle on a daily basis in the name of fika. The coffee in question was in the old town of Stockholm, Gamla Stan, with my local friend Claire. It was Claire who insisted I try the chokladbollar or chocolate ball (”Only if I can still order a cinnamon bun” was my response), beloved of children all over Sweden.

Proper iced coffee

It wouldn’t be a true list without some Sydney representation. My favourite coffee moment of late was an iced coffee on a hot day with Cheryl in Cremorne. I’m always nervous about ordering an iced coffee. Cappuccinos, lattes and macchiatos are (almost) universally recognised and generally resemble your expectations. But you’re playing with fire (or ice?) when you order an iced coffee – it’s open to interpretation. So Bread & Butter’s cold drop coffee with icy milk and a dusting of cinnamon really hit the spot. I think the drink-in-jar moment may have passed though (you know the zeitgeist has moved on once it’s on the shelves of Kmart).

And to finish, here is my all time favourite coffee moment of the past year:

“One iced coffee please˝ I asked my waiter politely while enjoying the afternoon sun with friends in downtown Mallorca.

And this is what was served.

Iced coffee – just like I ordered

Technically he delivered what I ordered. But now you see why I get nervous ordering iced coffee!

The Breakfast Club

Posted on November 6, 2014 by thefidgetyfoodie

Breakfast is arguably the most important meal of the day. Especially if you´re arguing with a nutritionist.

When I am travelling and especially when I am staying with friends abroad, I find that breakfast says a lot about the place I am in and the people I am with.

Here are my favourite breakfast moments from the past few months:

A Full Irish breakfast

The Full Irish – closely related to the Full English, this is the type of heart stopping affair that will safely keep you full ´till dinner. Handy if you´re labouring in the fields all day or as in my case, exploring the Irish countyside. The key elements include bacon, sausages, black pudding, white pudding, sautéed mushrooms, beans, fried potatoes and tomato. All cooked in lots of lovely Irish butter and served with soda bread and a cup of tea. My favourite parts were (vegetarians look away) the respective puddings; black pudding is a made from pork blood, oatmeal, pork fat, onions and spices and white pudding is similar minus the pork blood. It´s the key defining feature of the full Irish breakfast so don’t let your squeamish side deter you!

A fresh ensaïmada from Mallorca

Not just any old breakfast pastry, Mallorca´s ensaïmada is a protected product (up there with Champagne and feta) with a guarantee of origin since 1996, even though it originates from the 17^th century. Flour, water, sugar and pork lard create sheer layers of pastry which are shaped in a coil, baked, sprinkled with powdered sugar and sometimes filled with cream or custard. They are the Balearic answer to croissants, dipped in coffee and enjoyed as the morning meal.

Breakfast spread in Leipzig. Where to start?!

My friends Marc and Kathleen in Leipzig really know how to put on an impressive German breakfast spread. It all starts with bread; lots of it and different varieties. Select a piece and build your breakfast from there. There were several cheeses including camembert and cheddar, various cured meats (even a vegetarian sliced ´meat´), crudités, jams, mustards, hard boiled eggs, homemade pickles, cream cheese, slices of apple cake, fruit and fresh coffee. I tried to be as restrained as my hosts, focusing on one piece of bread and one or two toppings at a time but with that spread it was tough!

Delicios skyr and homemade jam on toast in Iceland

A homemade Icelandic breakfast is not to be missed. I´ve already waxed lyrical about my obsession with skyr and the fact that it appears at every meal. Breakfast is no exception. Add milk or cream or just enjoy this smooth dairy product unadorned. Almost everything at this breakfast table was homemade, including the sweet kleina pastries and the delicious blackberry jam.

The classic French breakfast

Breakfast at a sidewalk café in Paris is as de rigueur as visiting the Louvre. A French breakfast is usually small and perfectly formed – typically a croissant and/or tartine (sliced French bread) with butter and jam, juice and café crème. You can jazz it up with a fried egg or swap your croissant for a pain au raisin. Très chic, just like the French.

What´s your favourite breakfast meal?