What God Likes

Graffiti seen in Illawarra Rd by a friend, but sadly cleaned off before I could photograph it:

"God hates homos"

and someone had written underneath it:

"Does he like Falafel?"

TIM Products - Greek pastries

By Grant

Now if you’re a Marrickvillian and have not heard of TIM Products then it’s time you did. I’ve known about this outlet for traditional Greek pastries for a few years now, but Andrew first discovered it during one of those gourmet food safaris: http://www.gourmetsafaris.com.au/page/sydney_safaris.html

I met the son (pictured), whose name escapes me now. He was a pretty dynamic guy and very passionate about the tradition that he is carrying on with his family. I quickly found myself taking about food and how it sustains a culture and facilitates the sharing of cultures. His dad started making traditional Greek pastries a year after I was born (1967) from almond shortbread to baklava and galaktoboureko (layers of filo pastry filled with custard and lightly syruped). They have all been Marrickvillians since 1979!!

On Australia Day, let’s reflect on the richness of the traditions that make up this “big brown land” – that diversity that makes Australia unique – something greater than the sum of it’s parts.

TIM Products is up a long flight of stairs at 407 Enmore Rd Marrickville – you’ll smell the sweet pastries the moment your foot hits the first step.



More info at: www.timproducts.com.au

Black Forest Smokehouse

By Grant

I love living in Marrickville – especially will all the local businesses and produce about. But I’m learning to never judge a book by its cover when it comes to good food.

Andrew’s sisters husband is a chef and told me about this week’s shop of the week, the Black Forest Smokehouse. This place is only round the corner from me but I never noticed it - it is easy to miss.

I met Richard and Cate who’ve had the business for 3 years now as “purveyors of gourmet delicacies to Sydney’s greatest chefs”, but the smokehouse has been around for 15 years or so.

They had a pretty good range of meats – some chicken and chilli chorizos I’d never seen before and fresh cut grain fed meats. Also duck, which is hard to get, and heaps of different air-dried meats.

I left with some of the best speck I’ve ever tasted...and got it for about $4 it was cheap! Richard and Cate were really friendly folk carrying on a tradition with good Australian produce. I know where I’m going before my next BBQ.

Black Forest Smokehouse is tucked away at 150 Edinburgh Rd Marrickville and is open Monday – Thursday 10.00am – 5.00pm and Friday 10.00am – 4.00pm.

Santa's sack slipped & someone nicked the tips

By Meredith

I'm in Mebourne, having my usual Christmas / New Year break with family and old friends. On Christmas Day, after a beautiful lunch of mushroom and asparagus risotto, baked vegetables, salad, berry and passionfruit pavlova, Christmas pudding with custard, Christmas cake, and chocolates, I was assailed by this sight of sights:


On Boxing Day, wandering along Brunswick St, Fitzroy, I heard this conversation between a Koori couple sitting with lattes outside The Black Cat:

her: "A blackfella went in and stole their tips bowl."
him (groaning, head in hands): "You're kidding me."

Today, I'm going underwear shopping with my mother at David Jones. I suggested we meet on the Flinders St Station steps, but mother came up with a better idea - the Big Purse.

Caketown @ Newtown

I’ve been mulling over this post for a few days now. The pressure of the first time I guess but also because of what can only be described as my conversation with a pastry artisan.

In the spirit of the blogosphere I thought I’d get some facts to pad out my post, make me sound like I know my shit! Don’t want to let my mate Meredith down with some lame post about some shop my waist line and I frequent. So as one thing leads to another and in true backyard journalistic style I found myself speaking with Paul. A somewhat intense, full throttle, occasionally dark, never fully satisfied creative genius. I’m not sure what I expected, but I should have known it could never have been mediocre – there’s nothing mediocre about Caketown.

Now I’ve lived in Newtown (King St south) and of course Marrickville for a decade now and I have watched shops come and go…mostly go. Still there’s one shop that has been around for 4-5 years now called Caketown. Paul (44) and wife Carmel are both chefs (hmmm, note the facts – good ah?) and have lived in the area for 15 years and also have a young son. Carmel, who used to run the kitchen at the Greenwood Hotel in Nth Sydney, does the savouries off site so the smell of the onions etc doesn’t affect the pastries.

“Pastry making is very demanding”, says Paul “you have to be accurate in what you do – everything is timed, measured and chilled very carefully.”

Paul starts his day at 4am and goes 100% all day. When I spoke with him at 8pm he was like a whirlwind. I realised quickly that the mind of a true artisan could be an amazing and colourful place.

“I use all natural ingredients – just butter, cream and eggs. No premix anything used – some others’ cakes are made with hardly anything natural and taste like soap! If I can’t put it in my mouth I won’t sell it. The chocolate is a blend of French and Belgium – no compound chocolate that has vegetable oil in it and it coats the tongue, I won’t use anything that masks the pallet!”

Trained by a French Chef for 7 years in Rosebay. Paul sees what he does as a craft as a journeyman trade. “This is our first business. Prior to 9/11 I was a product development officer, for a company making sweets and desserts for Ansett but was later retrenched. I started doing small wholesale from home but Carmel prompted me into opening up Caketown. Being quite reserved I resisted, but Carmel persisted!”

In all the years I’ve been going to Caketown I’ve only ever seen Carmel and occasionally other people behind the counter. Who is this person making all this amazing food? Yes of course, this is a post about food and a “shop of the week” no less. I once glimpsed the elusive Paul but too quick he was. “I’m a frustrated artist I guess, I like to let the work speak for itself. I hate showy chefs.”

I had to ask Paul about the hot cross buns. Apparently the fruit is macerated for 3 weeks prior to Easter in French Brandy and French Rum. Who does that now, I ask you? My mum does for one, maybe your mum too, but fewer and fewer these days.

With the rise of the franchise cake store (and coffee for that matter), locally made and locally run shops like Caketown are a rare find and should be celebrated.
My own blessed Mother soaks her xmas pudding fruit for 3-4 weeks in a special jar she has just for that purpose. She fills the jar with dried fruit and will turn it twice every day until is it ready. This amount of detail, love, and effort has real resonance with me. It’s more than just cooking its food alchemy.

When I told Paul this, he laughed, “Yep, all the love is done in the morning!”

Over the years I’ve sampled and can highly recommend the following:

• Almond croissants – yum
• Chocolate croissants – rich yet light
• Chocolate and almond croissants – for when you just cant decide
• Meat pies – for when you want actual meat in your pies
• Quiche – for real men ;)
• Xmas fruit mince pies – dare I say, almost as good as Mum’s
• Florentines – the best I’ve every tasted
• Fruit Danish – again with real fruit – nectarine Danish is the best
• Kougloff – a eastern European cake with chocolate inside
• Caramel tarts – superb
• “Throw downs” - mouthful size morsels of pure joys, the perfect treat as you’re walking home from work or on a Sunday afternoon with friends if you’re like me and can’t turn up empty handed.
• They also bake fresh a full range of breads and long fermented doughs – no yeast in the sour doughs here!

Caketown is located at 569 King Street Newtown and open Wed to Sun, but get in early on the weekends or you’ll be disappointed.

aowh... the day after

we are not well we have a headache there was partying and screaming and joyous whoops and the house was chockers and we ate a huge lebanese feast and people dressed up and someone vomited and the dog ate it before we could stop her and everyone was glued to the teve and maxine looked so radiant and delighted, and julia so pinkly pleased & modest. One of them will be Australian Prime Minister eventually but kevin will do for the time being.

Lebanese Feast - kib'be a'raahib

Here's the Lebanese feast I made on Saturday night. It was pretty spectacular and really full of flavour, especially the lemon soup and the mackdouse (this is the stuffed pickled eggplant you buy in a jar). As we were eating Ruby asked me how I liked it and I said "I love it, I just wish someone else had cooked it." So we'll have it again, definitely, but Richard will take it from here... Recipes & pictures below.

By the way, it's vegan.

Lebanese Lenten kib'be (kib'be a'raahib -monk's kibbe)
This is enough to feed 8 people so adjust as necessary


Filling
2x small-med brown onions, fine diced
1-2 small red chillies sliced
1 tsp Lebanese 7 spice (baharat)
1 cup finely diced pecans or walnuts
Olive oil, salt to taste
Golden sultanas optional

Sauté onions in generous quantity of olive oil until just starting to caramelize, then add chilli and spice, then pecans, fry another 2-3 minutes on med-low flame, set aside to cool.

Potato dough (for ‘crust’)
2x Med small onions
Generous handful fresh basil leaves
1/4 tsp chilli powder
1 tsp cumin powder
7-8 Med-small potatoes boiled, drained and cooled
4-5 cups pre-soaked and washed burghul, (brown and fine - asmar ou nayaim)
Salt to taste

Process basil and onions in food processor until v. fine dice, not watery - smooth paste, but lumpy puree!!
No large pieces allowed!!
In mixer with batter attachment, mix potatoes, burghul, spices and onion mix together to make stiff dough. If too sticky, add more burghul.

Prepare large baking pan with light ‘oiling’. Divide ‘dough’ in 1/2. Fill small bowl with water and a pinch of salt. Wet hands with this water, and flatten handfuls of dough into large pancake discs across palm, and lay,( pat) into dish. Join these up one by one like putting together patchwork quilt, until they cover the bottom of the pan about 1/2” thick. Smooth seams with damp hand. Spread with filling, then use same procedure of patching together the top ‘crust’. Smooth seams, and gently score the surface with diamond pattern, to make easier to cut. Drizzle sparingly with olive oil.

Bake in mod-hot oven until golden brown.

Serve it with lemon lentil soup, green salad, pickled eggplant (mackdouse) and radish relish.

Lemon soup


Boil one generous cup of washed lentils till tender - skim water often, add 2 med diced potatoes, boil till tender, then top off with water and lemon juice to taste. (several lemons!, or supplement with citric acid- milleh leymun)
In mortar and pestle grind 2 garlic cloves and large tablespoon fresh chopped coriander, sauté in 2 tblspns olive oil, when almost golden tip on to soup, and add 2 bunches rough sliced spinach or equivalent silverbeet, stir and simmer till wilted.
Add salt to taste and serve.

Radish relish


2 bunches radish, well cleaned
Lemon juice
Salt

Fine dice radish in small food processor bowl. Do not Puree.
Transfer to serving bowl. Pour over juice of 1 – 2 lemons, salt to taste.
Add small tablespoon to top of each kibbe slice on serving platter or on individual plates

Pickles and Pikelets

When I was in Tokyo in July I stayed with my very smart and artistic cousin. Our fathers are brothers, from a quiet family that's a bit Jewish, a bit German, a bit English, and above all, very very proper. My cousin went for something completely different - she married into a huge, noisy, expressive and emotional Lebanese family, and she's never looked back. It was really wonderful being with her in Tokyo, where she'd lived for just a few months. But she had a grasp on the language after some intensive lessons, so we managed to find our way around without too much embarrassment.

After a day's hard gallery-ing and shopping we'd go home to the apartment she shares with her gorgeous husband and their three lively children, and she'd conjure up the most amazing Lebanese feasts (her mother and sisters in law taught her to cook when she first got married). In fact, apart from the bento boxes that I had for lunch at the conference I went to at Tokyo University, I ate mainly Lebanese food while I was in Japan. And what what food it was, so good, made with so much love, that I never once wished for sushi.

So, I have her recipe for Lebanese Lenten kib'be (kib'be a'raahib, or monk's kibbe) and in a rare cooking moment I'm going to attempt it tomorrow night. I've just been up to my local Middle Eastern deli to get some of the ingredients, the most exciting of which is a jar of mackdouce - pickled eggplant stuffed with red pepper and walnuts. This is served with the Lenten kib'be (a sort of nutty "pie" with a potato crust) along with lemon soup, green salad, and radish relish. Watch this space.

It's Ramadan, and the deli had some special things on offer:

like these mouth-watering bags of pickles - soaking in this briny liquid are cabbage, whole chillies, chunks of cauliflower, beetroot, and red capsicum...

and these, the softest of fluffy pikelets, sold with a tub of sugary rose-water syrup in which to dip.

Important tidbits

Semester is two weeks long now and my classes have almost settled into their final shapes & demographics (students tend to sample or surf elective subjects in the first few weeks to decide what suits them). One of my classes is 90% international students and most of them are from China's big cities. Without resorting to stereotypes, these are not the Chinese students of old: quiet, anxious and with terrible English. They're very urbane, cool, outspoken, stylish, have great English and they're not afraid to question me. Obviously China is changing... Shanghai is on my list of places to go before I die.

I had a great salad yesterday in Newtown - forgot to take camera so no photo - but it was baby spinach, fresh beetroot, fresh peas, mint, fetta and yoghurt. The dressing was, I think, olive oil mixed with that pomegranate syrup you can get from Middle Eastern shops and some balsamic vinegar. The whole thing was purple, green & white: very feminist.

I am 41 and should know better but I was seduced yesterday, post salad, into buying a dress fashioned in the new silhouette. Fashionistas will know exactly what I mean. It has no waist and is balloonish. It ends just above my knees. At least it's black. What I really like about it is that it has nice pockets - comfortable slits either side of my belly button - but this is perhaps not the best reason to buy a dress. There is a risk that in it I will look like a fat little ten year old (from behind only of course).

Today we visit the lovely Stryker, who missed out on our company and bag of carrots last week because Ruby's boyfriend was bitten by a poisonous snake (one of his pets, yes really). Ruby spent most of the weekend in hospital with him keeping a bedside vigil as he was pumped full of morphine. I didn't know that one in five people goes into anaphylactic shock after being given anti-venom, so doctors try not to give it - luckily he didn't need it but he was pretty sick. Anyway, the poor kid is now back home but has lost his sense of smell, perhaps permanently.

I got a first list of corrections from the editor who is working on my book manuscript. He's a blogger! in Glasgow. The corrections were all wonderful - it is just brilliant having someone read your stuff so closely.

My magnolia tree is almost in full bloom - this morning I cut a small branch off & put it in a vase on the mantelpiece, then I made a posy of lavender & rosemary for my round red vase, then I felt all exhausted by my domestic goddessness.

Shop of the Week - The Curry Tree

The Curry Tree isn't strictly a shop, but nor is it merely a market stall. It's a few bicycles with attitude and some passionate vegetarian curry makers. Paul customises the bicycles and tricycles (some are electric, some require pedal power) himself, adding trailers and trolleys and various cooking and serving attachments to them. A retired film caterer, he is now vehemently car-free and maintains his cooking passions with an exclusive market stall (he doesn't sell anywhere except the Addison Rd Markets). His partner Fiona, who works full time, and fourteen year old daughter Katlyn, work with him on Sundays.

Their little Jack Russell, Buster, waits patiently for things to start happening.

We tried their South Indian Banquet, for which the selection changes each week. Today they were serving a fresh chutney full of ginger and coconut, a gooey rich vegetable curry, a channa (chick pea) dhal and a nice dry potato masala with lots of curry leaves and mustard seeds, all topped with a superb yoghurt made here in Marrickville, some grilled roti and a handful of fresh rocket. This cost nine dollars and was heaps for me and Richard to share. We even accidentally dropped one quarter of the roti, which Sailor charmingly gobbled up, vomited, then re-ingested. This spectacle in no way put us off this beautiful meal.

Paul has osteo-arthritis and believes that keeping active is good for his health. He tells me that he serves "Rubies", not curries - this is English slang - Ruby Murray rhymes with curry - so if you feel like a curry you say "Anyone fancy a Ruby?"



You can also buy, for only six dollars, a paratha dosa - Indian bread topped with the channa dhal, the potato masala and a big dob of yoghurt - I dare you to compare that to any burger or kebab!

Motorists Corner

This building is on the corner of Marrickville and Petersham Roads. As you can see, it was originally an impressive and charming petrol station. Now it's an unimpressive and quite revolting Chinese restaurant, but more about that later. Marrickville was quite the petrol-head's dream in the 1920s. General Motors Holden actually had a car factory in Carrington Rd (I'll blog that soon) although it only operated from 1926 to 1931, closing because of the Depression. I like these bowsers, which look so personable with their fancy headgear and curvy, elegant hose-arms. So it's a sad thing that this is now the site of one of the few bad eating experiences I've ever had in Marrickville. It was back in 2001, so things may have improved (however, I will never know as I will never go there again). Let's just say bits of glass in dumplings, that my friend had to spend ages spitting out... not to mention there were open boxes of lettuce sitting on the floor in the toilets!

Shop of the Week - Ha Noi on Anzac Day

Richard and I thought we'd head up Illawarra Rd to the Marrickville RSL, as it's ANZAC day today (the links are for you non-Australian readers). But it was lunchtime, and we got no further than our favourite Vietnamese restaurant, the Ha Noi. Given that ANZAC day is also used to remember Australia's involvement in the Vietnam war, I think that's kind of poetic & appropriate, don't you?

There was a bit of a queue outside - always the sign of a good restaurant in Marrickville. The Ha Noi is in a strip that has a few Vietnamese places - it's close to the station, directly opposite the Hellenic Bakery, and is the only one with a sugar cane juicer out the front.

Their turquoise walls and other decorations always make me feel happy.

This is something most Vietnamese restaurants have - a selection of condiments on the table, along with cutlery, chopsticks and tissues. Mostly they're different types of chilli, but there's also fish sauce and hoi sin sauce (made from soy beans, chilli, sugar & salt) here.

And perhaps my favourite, whole raw garlic and chilli pickled in white vinegar.

Once we've ordered, I like to make a little palette of chilli - starting with the pickled garlic at the top and going clockwise we have fresh ground chilli, a pickled whole chilli, a dollop of satay chilli (sticky concoction of ground peanuts, chilli, dried shrimp, sugar and oil) and finally Chinese-style salty blended chilli. So many flavours, so many textures!

Richard got some deep fried spring rolls - these are about double the size of most spring rolls, and they come with this beautiful dipping sauce, nuoc cham, made from rice vinegar, fish sauce and palm sugar - it usually has carrot pieces in it.

This was definitely the highlight - chilli salt tofu - it's to die for. I actually dream about this dish sometimes. The tofu is floured & deep fried, then tossed with a kind of Vietnamese salsa made from coriander, lemongrass, garlic, ginger, fresh chilli, spring onion, Spanish onion and lots of white & black pepper. Food for the soul, yep.

Hanoi Quan. 346b Illawarra Rd, Marrickville, ph:02 95591637

Fedeterranea and Global Warming

It's struck me lately that fedeterranean homes are very sensible when it comes to global warming. Their Mediterranean elements add a number of features that help to keep them cool, like pale paint colours and internal glazed tiling. The characteristics they retain from their Federation roots have some good anti-heat features too: verandahs, double-brick walls and high ceilings.

Lots of Marrickville people who live in fedeterranean homes cook in their yards, on barbeques and in small wood fired ovens. On my evening walks with Sailor I smell lamb marinated in oregano and garlic, being cooked over coals, and sometimes smoky wafts of fresh fish being grilled in one of these. We do have dining rooms in Marrickville, but they're rarely used, remaining preserved as pristine altars to crystal cabinets and polished wood veneer. People like to eat on their decks, in their yards, and often in their garages, roller doors open to the back lanes.

Fedeterranean gardens are often very water-wise, with dry loving trees like citrus, olives and figs.

My friend George Morgan has generously sent me a box of Marrickville Backyards. These are really lovely books, very close to Marrickvillia's heart. I intend on giving them away to anyone who pleases me, and taking a pile next time I go to Hackney. If you want one, let me know.

This very old lemon tree has its trunk painted bright white-blue every year.

A tree heavy with olives.

A fig tree, draped like a new bride to keep the birds away from the ripening fruit.

Glory, the grape

We noticed a tang of richness, bordering on decay, on our back deck on Saturday. It was the grapes from our vine, only planted two years ago, ripening a little too much (regular readers know that lately my garden has been neglected).

So, what to do with kilos and kilos of grapey fecundity? We ate as many as we could. Then I found a recipe for grape jelly. This wasn't something anyone was really happy about, except me, as I've been known to be an enthusiastic but haphazard cook and in fact I've never had jam set. Richard appeared dubious & hovered about. I promised to follow a recipe and not go my own way (a public service psychological exam once said I was neither a team player nor a leader).

First, boil the grapes (2 kilos) with three sliced lemons, until the grape peels start to come away from the flesh.

Then strain the mixture through some cheesecloth, overnight. Overnight! Outrageous. I like things to be instant. Oh well... now, I couldn't work out how to get the fruit-hammock dangling over a bowl, until I remembered this post from Ampersand Duck. The wonderful blogosphere to the rescue! So I inverted one of the kitchen stools, dusted its legs, & set up this contraption:

It dripped away all night and in the morning I boiled the 8 cups of liquid with 6 cups of sugar. Boiled it until "setting point" which I've always been hopeless at. So I kept boiling and boiling and testing and testing, by dripping liquid on a saucer to see how thick it was, until finally I lost interest, drifted away, and it boiled over rather dramatically. Ruby rescued it but set a tea towel on fire in the process (at that point I had to put the camera down so no photo).

Finally, after about 2 hours of cooking, it began to set, hooray hooray, it seemed like magic (how did white grapes produce red jelly?) & I felt like a domestic goddess. I'd even sterilised some jars... and guess what, it tastes as good as it looks, so Nigella move over.