However after just returning from two weeks in Northern Vietnam with my family, I am justifiably a little ashamed of that ill-informed sort of outburst that I can be occasionally prone to.
Simply put, it was one of the most thought provoking experiences of wonder, delight with a richness of culture and contrasts that I could never have truly anticipated.

We had chosen Vietnam for a number of reasons.  For a family holiday there can’t be many countries as affordable to travel through as this. Also for a case of extreme culture shock not only for Liz and me, but that we wished upon our two girls aged 10 and 12, it had the desired effect – think Lyall Bay meets down town Hanoi. Of huge significance also was of course the food, the glorious food.
Like so many experiences it can be sometimes hard to explain or do justice to the event you experienced, however I will endeavor to try, with a couple of images alongside to assist.  The Vietnamese are some of the most warm and kind people I have come across. I found there was a genuine openness to them and they invariably made a fuss of you whenever you chose to sit street side and eat on the small plastic stools that dot the footpaths. Often generations of family are involved. It’s all the women who do the cooking (except for this guy maybe), in fact it often seemed like it was the women who did everything. And there is no such thing as retirement in Vietnam, everyone is constantly working.
Many streets specialised in certain dishes, with most operators serving just one or two variations or plates. Fresh rice noodles are everywhere and form the base to many specialties. I fell in love with the Pho (pronounced ‘fur’) which many start there day off with. Usually chicken or beef, it is a deep bowl of rice noodles covered with a fresh hot stock with a hint of spice, a little fresh meat (beef or chicken) then the eater adds to the broth, the addition of bean sprouts, chili, fish sauce, lime juice and an array of aromatic fresh herbs mostly from the mint and coriander family to their liking.
Like all the food served, it happens very quickly, with people in and out in a matter of minutes. It seems that everyone takes pride in what they serve, and I hardly ate a sub-standard mouthful anywhere.
Fresh and cooked spring rolls found everywhere were a daily addiction. Most food is cooked over charcoal which was obviously a delight to me, with an array of weird and wonderful cooking equipment you could possibly imagine.

All meats and fish products etc are butchered or cut up street side, and at over 30 degrees most days, there is no refrigeration to speak of, but with a population of 80 million or so, everything gets consumed within hours. Interestingly enough there was a very noticeable lack of flies anywhere.
Fresh fish, all very small, shrimp and wonderful glistening squid dominated the seafood areas of the markets. I also came across a lot of fish being preserved or dried in the sun.
The main meats on offer were chicken, beef and pork, however it was plainly obvious that this third world country eats pretty much everything – head to tail eating is the norm, with an array of the exotic, surprising and sometimes shocking (to my girls anyway), including jellyfish, bugs, dog and toads.
The fresh greens where outstanding. As mentioned, fresh herbs play a huge role as flavour points in much of the food, however personally I found them too strong on some occasions. Bitter melons, types of cucumber, jicama and the many other varieties of this style of vegetables, offering a contrasting soothing cool crunch to much of the food. 
The fruit had the most intense flavour imaginable, with highlights being fresh pineapple, lychees, watermelon, mangos and bananas. 

The Vietnamese coffee was another revelation. As thick and dark as sump oil, it was served hot or over ice, and often with a slug of condensed milk in the bottom that you stirred in to your liking.
It was an amazing experience for every minute we were in Vietnam, the highlights being the age of the country, the history, the architecture, the people and of course a street food scene and cuisine that was simply extraordinary.

Go there, you will love it and like me, be a lot richer and a little wiser for the experience.

For the last month, I’ve had the good fortune to spend two days a week touring the provincial South Island. My partner in crime has been one of New Zealand’s most entertaining female MCs and the undisputed queen of talkback radio, Kerre Woodham.

For our sins we agreed to host a series of Ladies Nights for CRT (Combined Rural Traders). Each week, we met outside the Hertz Car Rental kiosk at the airport closest to the town we were heading to. We’d take turns to drive, while the other navigated. We’re both quite inadequate in that department.

As you can imagine, there is no need for a radio in the car as when touring with someone who talks and writes for a living, there is plenty of conversation. We have known each other for over twenty years, however our paths have only really crossed again recently. And what fun that has been.

The Ladies Nights require us to entertain between 3-500 of the nicest rural women you could possibly meet. A typical travelling road show, CRT retail outlets and sponsors ride alongside us and set up their wares for sale at each event. It’s was a sell-out tour, however it was hardly Madison Square Garden, Wembley Stadium or even the Vecta Arena. No, this was true heartland stuff, pulling up to places such as the Hornby Working Men’s Club, the Balclutha Memorial Hall or the Ashburton Hotel.

Kerre had a habit of introducing herself as ‘my fluffer’ at the beginning of each show, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve yet to work with anyone who comes close to being so gifted as an MC. From the outset, Kerre commanded the audience with confidence, authority, wit and the absolute brilliance of a natural storyteller. I bet most in the crowd would not have had a 3-hour facial workout like that in a long time. She literally had everyone (and I mean everyone) in stitches from the word go.

For an hour or so in the middle of it all I prattled on about cooking, restaurants and products, while showing them how to butterfly a pork belly and stuff it with oregano, fennel seeds and lemon zest. The whole show involved a ton of laughs and a bit of cooking insight, with a side of retail therapy to keep everyone happy.

As much as I enjoyed the performances each night, it was the days surrounding the events that I savoured just as much. Driving from town to town, taking in as many secondary country roads as possible, is something I never tire of. Nor does Kerre for that matter. Spectacular scenery around each corner, undiscovered rivers, stands of native bush, old barns and farm houses – there is never a dull view.

Of course, these two city dwellers were always looking for sustenance, because driving through our magnificent heartland with the windows down sure makes you hungry and thirsty. Or maybe, it was just our inquisitive nature to want to stop in as many of these small rural settlements as possible. To drop in on the tearooms and ‘cafs’ of small town New Zealand is nothing but an absolute joy. With an assured warm greeting and little chance of a queue, there is always time for a good old natter. The coffee can be a little hit and miss, but this can be forgiven when it comes to the counter food.

Kerre has a slight fascination, or mild addiction, to what is often called ‘Southland Sushi’, commonly known to most in these parts as the humble (yet often extraordinarily delicious) Cheese Roll! It’s a classic. Oozing melted tasty cheddar, Maggi onion soup mix and diced onion, among other secret ingredients, once toasted, these cheese rolls are then lathered with a decent lick of melted butter to finish.

As much as the tearooms and cafeterias of the mainland knock out a wonderful array of savoury delights, it was the baking sections that continually rocked our sweet-tooth. Southerners have baking, especially slices, well and truly sewn up. I have never seen anything like it. The variety was extraordinary and the taste, for the most part, rich and delicious. They’re the perfect partner with a cuppa tea or a cuppa Joe for that matter. However, the big difference between slices of the South and their Northern counterparts is definitely their size. As we travelled further South, I was convinced that a far more appropriate name for a ‘slice’ was indeed a ‘slab’.

It is reassuring that our wonderful New Zealand tradition of baking is not only alive and well in the deep South, but is simply flourishing. Like everything, and everybody we came across on our travels, the South is all about generosity, be that in landscape, the conversation, the spirit of the people, or in the massive ‘slices’ proudly sold up and down the divide. I’m convinced there is a coffee table book in the making for someone extolling the virtues of this Southern phenomenon – the simple title of ‘Slices of the South’ has a great ring to it!

Why are we so fascinated with the plated dish?

If you pick up any food magazine these days and flick through, you will find that generally 90% of the photos are of perfectly placed food.  Of course this makes sense in the fact that the readers of the recipes want to see how the finished plate looks and the creator of the recipe wants to show each dish off in its most perfect form possible, be it in a white table clothed candelabra situation or a picture perfect campfire scene complete with cyrstal clear stream and snow capped mountains in the back ground.

I am the first to admit I have been there (for many years) and done that. I am not sure if it’s just that I’m getting cynical in my older cooking years, but I am just so tired of these perfect photos, of perfect food, surounded by perfect people, in a perfect situation, in a perfect world!

Anyone who has worked in food photography will know that as soon as the food is arranged on the plate it has to be shot immediately, as with every second passing the dish is literally dying right in front of your eyes. It’s getting cold on the slab so to speak.

So we brush it with oil, we replace the wilting piece of chervil, we add a few more drops of warm gravy, all to make it look alive for a moment more.

I have for over a decade been fortunate enough to shoot all my photography with the extraordinarily talented Kieran Scott.  We work well together, due to the fact that we share very similar views on the beauty of food,  especially in its most natural unadulterated form.  In the 12 years or more of working together, he has yet to artifically light any photo he has taken with me.  As Kieran will attest to, I shy away from plating the food, often leaving it up to him to arrange the cooked product in the manner he sees fit.  For some reason I always feel a little uncomfortable tampering with the food to get the perfect look, as I guess for me, I feel that every plated dish is different, some more beautiful, some less, but most importantly it’s always been all about how they eat.

Kerian will also tell you that the time that I pester and bother him to take pictures of food is always in the handling, the preparation, and the actual cooking of the products. To me this where the real beauty lies, when the food is still alive through the lens…… a whisp of smoke drifting over lamb chops, the bubbling of butter in a skillet carressing a piece of fish or cracked soil-laden hands holding freshly dug bright orange carrots.

My new book ‘Stoked’ is due to hit the shelves in a couple of weeks. I am extremely proud of what we have achieved. I say ‘we’, as to produce a great book, is always a collaboration of many talented people. We stuck with the tried and true ‘Go Fish’ team. Myself on the pen, Gary Stewart on design, Kieran taking the pics, Haydo testing the recipes, and Cath Cordwell and Toni Mason on editing duties. It truly is a beautiful book with so many evocative images of people, places and of course food — much of it alive, some dead — but all of it telling a culinary story in one way or another.

‘Stoked’ celebrates slowing down, taking time to light a fire and enjoy the process of cooking without a heat control knob or temperature gauge. This in stark contrast to a world where everything seems to be instant, everyone wants everything now….. instant messaging, faster internet, immediate results. It is the same with cooking:  30 minute meals, 10 minute meals, 4 ingredients meals. Everything is about speed but the sad thing with that is that with speed you miss the love, preparation, care and probably the enjoyment when eating — if it takes two minutes to cook them it will only take two minutes to eat.

Embrace the slowness, enjoy the wait, take pleasure in the anticipation and remember, it’s from the plate back where the real beauty lies!

A question that people keep asking me is what is your new restaurant all about?

Depot is a reflection of where I currently am in my cooking career, a window on how I see hospitality I guess. Food these days seems to me is more a vehicle for good times and for bringing people together around a table — the way I look at it, the less formality the better!  As Kiwis we love to do things well but we don’t like things to be too stiff and formal. I have done fine dining at Logan Brown — a fantastic restaurant and one that I am still really proud of — but to have the chance to go to the other end of the scale and now work to make dining as super relaxed as possible has been great fun. Logan Brown is a restaurant that while never stuffy is grand, with Depot I want people to feel that the weight comes off as soon as they walk into the eatery. I don’t want people to have to worry about what they are wearing or what to order — I trust it will all just make perfect sense.

I think Depot has a wonderful Wellington feel to it and it is nice to know that I have brought a little of my hometown to Auckland. Many of my suppliers are from Wellington: Tuatara beer, and Havana coffee, a very Wellington blue collar and working class drop, which Depot is all about.

I have always had plenty of ideas but I often feel I need people to help me articulate them and turn them into reality. The vision I had at the beginning of all this has been realised by bringing in people who’ve given me the confidence to do it and to help me through the process: the unbelievably talented Gary Stewart from Gas Project, working on all the collateral; Charlie Nott, architect extraordinaire, from Christchurch; and Andrew Missen, who’s work as a designer I have always admired, has left his talented mark throughout this space. This team (and wonderful friends) have added such a lovely dimension to the eatery, I am stoked with how fresh, new and original it looks.

Now what I am most looking forward to the most is watching people come into the space. It has all been about bricks and mortar and now suddenly the human factor is being introduced. It is not just about the look anymore, it is the product, the food, the order of service, and most importantly it is the people and the personalities that will make Depot.

Opening this Saturday, here is the website if you would like to check it out. Come on in and refuel and spend time and unwind. Whether it is for a cup of coffee first thing in the morning with a plate of warm beignet or late at night for half a dozen oysters and a tumbler of sauvignon blanc, we would love to see you there.

And as for my other projects… I am thrilled that Stoked, my new book, has headed off to the printers and will be coming off the press early October and Get Fresh, the new TV series due out mid-September, is being delivered as I blog. It has been a hell of a year with lots of projects on the go but hopefully I will be able to get back to blogging in the months ahead when a little of the pressure is off and I can waffle on about things that don’t mean much or may even cause a little bit of controversy…

I can still recall the wave of nerves and churning stomach when phoned three months ago to gauge my interest in interviewing AA Gill. I had read many of his columns and restaurant reviews over the years, and was a huge fan, in a skim through sort of way of the the well-worn magazines such as Vanity Fair, GQ and Australian Gourmet Traveller, trying to relax before the inevitable: ‘come through Mr. Brown’ at a dentist or doctor appointment.

I have always found his columns totally engaging. I love his wit, his intellect and brilliant turn of phrase. I have to admit there has also always been this selfish indulgence and slightly ugly side of me that has found pleasure, in a safe waiting room on the other side of the world, in reading his brutally honest reviews where he can simply dismantle, crucify and rip every shred of a restaurant’s efforts into confetti.

Now I do not by any stretch particularly enjoy public speaking. However whether I enjoy it or not, it is part and parcel of what I do. It’s sort of a love hate scenario. I hate the thought of it all, but love the feeling of taming or overcoming my nerves. If I have a chopping board, knife and a fish in front of me and I’m there to talk food and demonstrate a recipe, I can natter on happily and I’m relatively comfortable in my environment. In fact surrounded by the props of my trade and head full of stories and anecdotes I actually quite enjoy entertaining an audience.

However interviewing Mr. AA Gill in front of a very large crowd at the Auckland Aotea Centre for an hour and a half was a completely different kettle of fish. I said yes to the request for a number of reasons. Firstly it’s great to be asked, secondly meeting Adrian in person is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and then lastly if I had said no I would have beaten myself up time and time again for not having the courage or guts to overcome my fears.

From the second I put the phone down after agreeing to do the session on ‘Friday the 13^th of May’, every time it crossed my mind, a wave of nerves would wash over me. I was sent a bunch of books, but finished only one (Table Talk – read it, it’s hilarious) due to trying to finish and deliver my own book. So Liz my wife and other friends read the rest, circling or making notes on parts they thought were appropriate or helpful to the cause.

After AA Gill confirmed he would attend the event, I gathered from the ‘Writers and Readers Festival’ crew that getting emails returned from the ‘AA’ was increasingly difficult. However I mentioned to them that if he had any spare time for me to take him saltwater fly fishing on the Waitamata, that I thought this would be a great way to bond a little and to try and get my head around exactly what I had bitten off.

Surprise, surprise. A response to the fishing invite email was practically instantaneous. This was a relief and gave me some insight into the man that at least we have one thing in common – we both love to wet a line.

I met AA on Thursday evening after the wonderful opening gala night and made a time to meet for breakfast the following morning. I had barely pulled up a chair and said good morning to this famous writer, before he had me in stitches. The rest of the morning continued in the same vein as my brother Jeremy took the two of us out saltwater fly fishing. Used to super yachts and the like, Mr. Gill was perfectly happy and relaxed in a modest 14 foot tinny with a thermos of tea, a chicken sandwich and a cookie or two. We had an awesome morning, battling and landing a couple of large Kahawai while Jeremy and I hung onto every exciting word that came from that super clever mind of his.

The rest of the day was spent pacing up and down my hotel room reading excerpts from his books that I planned to read out along with the questions I had formulated for the evenings session. By 7 o’clock, feeling totally wound up and sick to the stomach with nerves, I sat in the green room with the great man, trying to act nonchalant, but failing hopelessly.

I can say with complete honesty that the next 90 minutes were certainly up there as the some of the longest in my life. I called him Anthony the first two times I mentioned his name, (A.A stands for Adrian Anthony), I stumbled at times reading pieces from his books, my brow constantly dripping with perspiration. And to be honest I can’t really recall how it went, however there were laughs a plenty, some at my expense, but most through the shear brilliance and witticisms of this very funny man. At times I didn’t understand words he was using, breaking into French phrases and the like, as well as trying to keep up, and think what to say next.

It eventually came to an end, and as I stood in the wings completely drained, Adrian was wonderful with his praise and support.  I honestly didn’t know what to think, what I did know was that it reinforced the enormous respect I have for all those wonderful interviewers out there….the Kathryns, the Kims, the Johns and the Marks of this world.

The rest of the weekend was a doddle.  I hung out with AA for some of the time, enjoying his presence and conversation immensely.  A genuine and thoughtful guy, who wears his big heart on his sleeve, he is and will remain a friend for a very long time.

Would I do it again?  That’s a good question……

Some more photos courtesy of the Festival crew, from my Evening with A A Gill, and the Langham High Tea with Adrian, Sarah-Kate Lynch and Annabel Langbein.

I had what I guess people would call a ‘red letter day’ last Monday. I had managed, through a series of secret squirrel phone calls, to obtain the number of a guy named *Sue, who I was told at this time of the year has a handful of spots where he gathers fresh wild Porcini mushrooms.

Once I had Sue’s number, I felt it needed to be a soft approach with a degree of understanding that if I actually convinced Sue to take me along with him, I would be fully prepared to be blindfolded and travel in the boot of the car. Whatever it took would be ok with me, to forage for what is my favourite fungi in the world.

Phone numbers were exchanged, a plan was hatched, a pickup spot arranged and the 6am start in complete darkness seemed fully appropriate.

Rumours I had heard in the past that Porcini mushrooms could be found in parts of the South Island, I always felt had been just that…rumours. I was sceptical if nothing else as I felt sure, that if they did exist, I would have stumbled upon them one way or another through the tight culinary circles of this little village of ours called NZ. Apparently not!

With a certain amount of apprehension on board, I was on time at spot X for our rendezvous. I actually didn’t know what to expect as I stood in the foggy darkness on this deftly still Christchurch morning.

Around the corner with its lights turned down, a non-descript white 80’s saloon slowly pulled up next to me.  As quick as you like, Sue jumped out, and with firm handshake and a couple of pleasantries we disappeared into the darkness.

The next 3 hours was the most fun I have had in a long time. As much as I love to hunt and fish, I get just as much of a thrill gathering or foraging. In fact in a weird way I sort of love looking for anything. It can be looking for smooth coloured glass on the beach, or perfectly round shaped stones walking up a river. It’s all about the anticipation….it’s what’s just around the corner, over the ridge, or through the trees that keeps you going and going.

We spent the morning with our heads down walking in the fog; Gently moving through the autumn foliage, straining our eyes to spot these incredible things of beauty on the heavily camouflaged forest floor. We gathered a couple of kilos between us. Not only was the bounty incredible, it was the time spent with a new friend, listening to his stories and learning everything I possibly could about how and why these mushrooms grow in certain places.

To finish we lit a fire and cooked these extraordinary fungi in butter, roasted garlic, fresh thyme, parsley and salt and pepper. Simply magic!

To follow are a few pictures of our morning’s gathering. If anyone can tell me if they’ve foraged and found Porcini in the North Island I would love to know the province… I have the bug big time!

My Other Favourite Foraging Activities, Please add yours to the list…

- Digging For Tuatua

- Collecting Field Mushrooms

- Picking Watercress

- Harvesting Edible seaweed

And now, I’m doing exactly what I said I would never do – opening a restaurant in Auckland, right across the road from Belotta.

Peter, who’s a good friend, has been very persuasive and enthusiastic about me joining him just across the way, and I have a terrific little corner site, which is being gutted as we speak.

‘Depot’ is going to be a frantic and fast paced eatery, serving unpretentious food on plates to share. There’s a raw bar, where oysters and fresh shellfish will be shucked to order. The main kitchen (open) will feature a large charcoal grill and a hard wood oven. The food is fresh and all about sharing: think crab cakes, roasted whole fish, smoked 12hr brisket, crisp pork hocks etc. Two or three components on the plate, no dots, no smears, no foams!

A small wine list, with one beer and one cider on tap. The emphasis will be on fast and efficient fuss free service. Wine served in tumblers, high leaners and tables, eating at the bar, plates of food arriving at speed in a slightly random but logical order. Professional wait staff…..no posers with attitude or the ‘too cool for school’ servers here, just hard working waiters with their sleeves rolled up, getting on with looking after you!

It’s all about fun, and the kind of place that you’d drop in for a quick bite before a show, or a place to eat late. Plenty going on with laughter and merriment encouraged.

Federal Street is getting a major makeover over the next year or two, led by SkyCity who have been instrumental in making Depot happen. To cut a long story short, I met with CEO Nigel Morrison, General Manager Simon Jamieson and their great team. I was shown a wicked little corner site that I immediately felt had my name written all over it, as well as some exciting visionary plans for turning Federal Street into a pretty groovy food and entertainment precinct.

SkyCity has engaged award-winning Australian chef and restaurateur, Sean Connolly as well as successful restaurateur, Luke Dallow (owner of Auckland’s Sale St Bar and Chapel) who will also be opening new eateries here this year.

One of fun aspects of putting together something like this is the team of people you gather around you to help make it happen. Charlie Nott, a good friend, is my Architect; Gary Stewart of The Gas Project, who I have worked very closely with for the last three or four years, is on board in the design role and Gareth, with the awesome team at Southern Hospitality, is creating what is going to be a dream kitchen. All the boring palaver regarding consents etc is well underway and we are shooting for an opening date around the end of July 2011.

So with book to deliver, a new TV series to finish, and a restaurant to open by the end of July, it’s all on for young and old!

I’ll keep you posted and give you regular updates on how things are progressing, and please by all means, send me suggestions, opinions and ideas on what you would like to see, taste, and touch.

Is it just me or do others feel more depressed at the end of their supermarket visit than when they arrived?

Besides the obvious bright lights, mind-numbing onerous announcements, and often painfully slow service, it’s actually the packaging of food that sends me down into a dark broody place, come checkout time.

Recently I believe we have hit a new low in the wrapping department. You start to wonder how we ever got along without sliced apples packed in little branded plastic bags?

Correct me if I’m wrong but I’m sure that a not-so-insignificant thing called ‘Nature’ actually provided the apple with its own packaging. You may have heard of it…..that’s right it’s called skin and it actually does a way better job of looking after and protecting our precious apple than any wretched (and probably gas filled) plastic bag will ever do. It’s wrong on so many levels, so wrong!

And check this one out, yip its that iconic Kiwi brand ‘Watties’ that we all used to be so proud of before they were sold out to Heinz.  Three small cans of baked beans wrapped in plastic shrink-wrap.

That piece of plastic, serves absolutely no purpose other than saving you the extraordinary amount energy, exerted, when reaching up to the shelf three times to achieve the same result.  And get this, it’s actually cheaper to buy the three cans with that extra plastic than without…….. go figure?

There are absolutely no excuses for this sort of irresponsible behaviour from a multinational company such as Watties/Heinz. Do they not have any conscience or understand the social responsibility of looking after our precious planet? This practice of packaging should be illegal full stop!

So what are we going to do about it? Has anyone got any ideas?  The two obvious ones that come to mind, are firstly, talking about it and getting people to actually stop buying these products and hitting those companies in the pocket where it kind of hurts…..It’s not much but it is a start.

The other way I’m convinced could eventually create change is to have a ‘Bad Packaging Day’ in the schools at least once a year, preferably once a term. Kids are so impressionable; think how anti-smoking children are these days. Once they get something in their cute little minds that they think is bad, it becomes infectious. What we want to hear down the brightly lit aisles, is ‘Mum don’t buy that, look at the ridiculous and meaningless packaging’.

While I was pondering this topic, I came across these guys who are pretty set on making a change and have some good tips on ‘getting real’ about packaging that are worth checking out.

Thoughts……?

Here’s a few more pathetic examples……

]]> http://blog.albrown.co.nz/unnecessary-packaging/feed 23 http://blog.albrown.co.nz/do-we-really-need-another-cookbook-2 http://blog.albrown.co.nz/do-we-really-need-another-cookbook-2#comments Thu, 20 Jan 2011 20:57:51 +0000 Al Brown http://blog.albrown.co.nz/?p=72 I have a very small office out the back of our house next to my test kitchen and for the whole month of January, I sit on a little old swivel chair, literally from dawn to dusk, punching away on my keyboard (painfully slowly) trying to knock out 100 or so recipes, plus stories and info for my follow up book to ‘Go Fish’.

Porcetta

I’m working directly with my wonderful chef Haydo, as we develop, taste and try to create five recipes a day for ‘Stoked’. It takes a huge amount of organisation, for each one has at least three components, like little recipes themselves, within the main recipe. So typically we are actually creating and testing about 15 recipes per day…

All are designed for six or more people, so you can imagine the amount of food that is left at the end of the day. My wonderful neighbours may have begun to get sick of fish near the completion of my last work, and I can assure you they will be struggling with this year’s meat fest too.

10 hour smoked brisket; Spiced ‘Pulled Pork’ shoulder; Char-grilled Skirt Steak with Habanera Mustard, blah blah blah. It can only be a matter of time before I see the white flags come out as I cross the street with another kilo or two of protein weighing heavily on the roasting dish covered in foil!  The upside for me of course is I can practically borrow what ever I want or please after the testing and recipes are complete…. I’m thinking weed eater, chainsaw, trailer, boat….actually boat is probably pushing it a bit, but you get the picture.

Ribs

So anyway creating the dishes is obviously the fun part, however writing them up has to be the most mind-numbingly laborious task there is, especially for cooks who, typically, after getting proficient at their craft, need not measure ingredients nor explain technique. After you have written ….’take a suitable sized saucepan and place on medium heat’ or ‘season with flaky sea salt and fresh black pepper’ for the thousandth time it does get somewhat arduous.

What I heard recently that is of interest to me is on average, only two recipes are ever tried out per cook book……Does that sound right? I would be interested to hear your thoughts on that one. A bit like buying a whole CD for that one song you like..

Ribs on the Grill

Meanwhile it’s not all doom and gloom, because there is definitely a great feel of satisfaction garnered from creating a recipe that reads well, prepares well and most importantly eats well. As I have said many times in the past, recipes are for sharing. By all means change them, add to them, make them your own, but promise me you’ll pass those culinary love letters on……

By the way I have already mentioned it previously, but if any of you reading this have some quirky BBQ set up or smoker etc, or you know of someone who has, send a pic or make contact, as it may end up gracing one of the pages of ‘Stoked’!

Peace, Love and BBQ

Argentine BBQ

So here’s the rant…..

I do enjoy at least one or two well made coffees a day. When in Wellington, it’s a bit of a no brainer as, depending on where I am in the city, I will have my nearest ‘Go To’ café. There, I can pretty much guarantee a great cup of Joe, made effortlessly by a passionate barista. For this experience and taste I am more than happy to flick over $4 to the hard working Café owner.

But what really bugs me, and had me super frustrated while in Gisbourne with my family last week, is that it took Lizzie and I about 3 different cafes to finally find one that knew there stuff and made a great cup (The Gisborne Deli). So we forked out $24.00 of hard earned ding before we found what we wanted. Seriously, some of the coffees we tasted were often boiling hot, insipidly weak, and a bitter liquids that were not really digestible. They were tossed out after the first sip, with the familiar mutterings of how hard can it be……(along with ‘Dad your not meant to use words like that’ coming from the back seat). If the piece of fish you ordered stinks, or your wine is corked, you send it back and get a refund, so what’s the deal with coffee?

I think all who love a well-made coffee would agree; it happens way too often! I have totally given up trying any of those flippin’ converted horse floats and the like, that seem to line every small provincial town from here to Auckland.

So how hard would it be to get some sort of national standard ‘Star’ system that was directly attributed to price of a coffee.  Each Barista would have to display a certificate in full view when making coffee, showing what level or ‘star rating’ they have trained to or accomplished. If the barista was in training and had no stars, the owner shouldn’t charge more that a couple of bucks for a coffee made by that person. On the other hand if they had trained and done a proper qualified course and achieved a 1 star rating, that café owner can charge say $3.  A Barista can then train for two, then three stars, depending on their length of job experience and national qualified courses they had sat.

I don’t know exactly how it could work but in earning the first star, they should be able to make a pretty good cup off coffee and know the basics. For a three star-rating, the barista in question can make a killer coffee with their eyes closed, understand how to break down and clean an espresso machine, a coffee bean grinder etc and know everything there is to know about coffee.  This would encourage the business owners to train their staff, as surely they would all want to be charging top dollar for perfectly made cup of coffee time after time.

Imagine if you drove down the highway and as you entered Woodville, you notice a coffee cart on the roadside with a three star coffee flag hanging off the side…..I know where I’d be pulling out my wallet!

Thoughts?