South Australian Cheese Boards

One of the best things about winning Masterchef is that I get invited to a lot of stuff now. Everything from primary school show and tell (seriously) and dinner parties held by complete strangers (seriously) to World Expos in China (seriously) and secret billionaire islands in the Caribbean (not seriously).

But by far the best thing I’ve been invited to so far was the Adelaide Crows Chairman’s Luncheon last Saturday before the Crows vs St Kilda game. This is a team I’ve supported since I was a kid, and last weekend I got to raise the 19th man flag on the ground, stand in the Guard of Honour and sit at the luncheon with His Excellency Rear Admiral Kevin Scarce, Governor of South Australia, Crows Chairman Rob Chapman, Crows CEO Steven Trigg and other dignitaries (oh, and Callum too).

To say thank you for the invitation, I had a woodworker in the Adelaide Hills make me these awesome cheese boards in the shape of South Australia. They were made from River Red Gum and turned out brilliantly, so I was very proud to present them to the Chairman and His Excellency the Governor at the luncheon.

Actual size.

Together with the boards were some of my favourite South Australian cheeses from cheesemakers such as:

All brilliant artisan cheesemakers that make some of the best cheeses in Australia. Many thanks to Kris Lloyd and Sue Rogers from Cheesefest for pulling these cheeses together at such short notice!

I’m getting a few more boards made so hopefully I will be eating some great SA cheeses off one of these very soon!

What I’ve Learned from the Chefs I’ve Met

Donna Hay: Beautiful food tastes better.

Matt Moran: If he walks into a kitchen I am cooking in, I am probably going to win something.

Matt Moran: Luckier than a hatful of pixies.

Neil Perry: The business of food can be challenging and confusing, but at the end of the day it’s still all about food.

Luke Nguyen: Generosity is a wonderful trait with respect to both food and knowledge.

Luke Mangan: No-one is going to just give you an international restaurant empire, but you can probably build one yourself.

Peter Gilmore: The techniques of cooking are in themselves relatively simple, but applying them in combination to create a dish of brilliance is nearly impossible.

Philippa Sibley: Desserts aren’t as terrifying as I thought they were.

Nathan Darling: ‘Nice guy’ and ‘Chef’ are not mutually exclusive terms.

Shaun Presland: Your food is defined by your passion, not your ethnicity.

Justin North: If you french and crown a rack of rabbit, it looks absolutely sensational.

Michel Roux: Even after 60 years of cooking, a multiple Michelin-starred chef can still get excited by a really beautiful capsicum. A passion for food never leaves you.

“These two Michelin stars say that I could call a Meatball Sub ‘classic French’ if I wanted to.”

Guillaume Brahimi: Smoked duck and stir-fried bok choi is, surprisingly, not a classic French dish.

Tetsuya Wakuda: A person’s food is the story of their life.

Kumar Mahadevan: If you temporarily abandon your wife on vacation in England to fly to Australia for 1 day to appear on Masterchef, you’d better have been a pretty good husband up to that point.

The Restaurant Arras Crew (Adam Humphrey, Lovaine Allen and Aaron Eady): Running a good restaurant is all about attention to detail. And sometimes that means getting up at 5am every day to bake your own bread.

Curtis Stone: I am much shorter than many people in this world, and have less impressive hair.

Jamie Oliver: Jamie Oliver is like a shark: if he stops moving, he dies.

Callum, back away and make no sudden movements.

Ty Bellingham: Well-balanced Thai food is a joy to behold. Witty puns about a guy named Ty that makes Thai food don’t get old for at least 40 to 50 seconds.

Peter Kuruvita: Getting up at 5am every morning of your life to go to the Sydney Fish Markets is not a chore if you love what you do.

Frank Camorra: Winning and losing are the smallest parts of any competition.

Glenn Thompson: Walking through a vineyard is pretty at the worst of times, but when you are walking through with an expert in oenology and viticulture it can be astounding.

Rick Stein: If you consider the flavour of a pot of langoustines simply boiled in sea water, there is a strong case for awarding oceans of the world a Michelin star all to themselves.

Maggie Beer: If Mary Poppins were a cook instead of a nanny, she would be Maggie Beer.

Mark Jensen: The food of all cultures owes a great debt to the history of the world.

Fergus Henderson: Being totally bonkers is fine, as long as you’re brilliant; and Fernet Branca is possibly not an appropriate drink for 10am, unless you’re sharing it with Michelin-starred chefs and internationally acclaimed food critics.

Ian Curley: If you don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself in the kitchen, you probably aren’t doing yourself justice.

Kylie Kwong: The food you grow up with is the food you will love forever.

Tony Bilson: Food is a beautiful confluence of technique and personality. Also, a not-insignificant resemblance to Albert Einstein can go a long way to supporting an air of genius.

NOT Albert Einstein. (Possibly Dr Emmett Brown.)

Ryan Squires: When plating food, if your brain is telling you that something needs to go in a particular place, do exactly the opposite and it will look natural and organic.

David Chang: Brilliance is never effortless, and being an overnight success takes years of work (and after you’ve ‘made it’ it only gets harder). Also, it’s OK to sign autographs by copying out Pavement lyrics.

Darren Purchese: Patissiers are geniuses. If we don’t keep an eye on them, they are likely to take over the world.

Julie Goodwin: You don’t have to hate your old life to want a newer, shinier one.

Josh Emett: Restraint in cooking is a difficult thing to quantify, but when done well even the most complex dishes look effortless.

Warren Turnbull: Every ingredient in a dish should taste like what it is, and should be there for a reason.

Cherish Finden: Very small people have lasers that shoot from their eyes that can destroy buildings. And if you are strong, fair and kind, everyone will love and respect you for it.

Heston Blumenthal: Grace is just as important as genius.

“I made a ’67 Mustang convertible into a ham sandwich. Then I made it invisible.”

Franck Poupard: I don’t season my food enough. And I really should know better by now.

Mitchell Orr: I am much older than I thought I was.

Jan ter Heerdt: A third-generation Belgian chocolatier looks exactly how you think he would.

In Belgium there is a law that states that if you look like this, you must become a kindly chocolatier.

Margaret Fulton: As you age, a love of food keeps you young. And even though Masterchef is only a TV show, what we do on that stage is fundamentally important for the future of Australian food. She made me cry.

Adriano Zumbo: Evil exists in this world, and its name is Zumbo.

Adam Melonas: It’s important to dream big.

Christine Manfield: If Christine Manfield traveled through time in a fusion-powered DeLorean, she would apply for Masterchef under the name Courtney Roulston.

Alla Wolf-Tasker: The appeal of an audacious pair of spectacles should not be underestimated.

Mark Best: Synergies in food sometimes appear where you least expect them.

Jacques Reymond: Claire is a very beautiful woman.

Hiroyuki Sakai: My Japanese is not as fluent as I thought it was.

Shannon Bennett: A stoic calmness can be achieved through a thoughtful approach to food and life.

And last, but certainly not least:

Gary Mehigan: The best lessons in life and cooking are taught and learnt in equal measure.

George Calombaris: Food has a heart and a soul. That fact is unforgettable and irrepressible.

Matt Preston: Matt Preston is a giant food encyclopaedia robot… in colourful pants.

Brutal taskmasters.

Thank You!

Things are all in a bit of a spin at the moment as Callum and I are being shunted from pillar to post for a bunch of media interviews following Sunday’s result, but I wanted to get back onto this blog to say a genuine and heartfelt thanks to all of the people who have supported me, the other contestants and the show for the last few months.

In the limited time we had access to the real world outside the Masterchef kitchen, the support from everyone surrounding the show and also on facebook, forums, twitter and this blog was absolutely wonderful. Whenever the producers would tell us  how many people were watching the show, we would be so proud – not because of the fame, but because we felt that if people at home were appreciating our food every night then maybe the stress, tears and long hours were all worthwhile.

It has been an amazing experience and a pleasure cooking on everyone’s TVs night after night, and I really look forward to continuing to do so, whether it be in cookbooks, on TV screen or hopefully even in my own restaurant.

If you do want to stay in touch with me and what I’m doing (and trust me, not even I know what that’s going to be over the next few months), the easiest way is probably to subscribe to this blog (adamliaw.com) via this link.  Alternatively you can follow me on twitter (@adamliaw) or even just drop in at my fan site on facebook.

It’s going to be a crazy ride from here on, but I’m glad you’re all with me!

With absolute gratitude,
Adam

Twitter Weekends (August 2009)

Weekend: Loooong bike ride, Imperial Palace, Gaugin exhibition at MOMAT, Christine’s farewell (and karaoke), and Burton’s Mark of the Year.
3:20 PM Aug 30th from web

Weekend: Kayaking and mountain biking in Nagano, trekking to Hakuba, Azabu Juban matsuri, Shinjuku shopping and rocking out with the band!
3:57 PM Aug 23rd from web

Nagano Weekend Collage

Weekend: Too much booze and too much blood.
9:48 PM Aug 18th from web

Weekend: Cancelled camping trip, studio jam, Tokyo Bay fireworks, Martinque rhums, bike ride, a drink at Two Rooms and Harrison Ford movies.
6:37 PM Aug 9th from web

Weekend: Baking (wholemeal artisan bread and pizza), homemade pesto, LOTS of spring cleaning, a bike ride and the gym. I am a domestic god.
3:50 PM Aug 3rd from web

Butter Baked Cabbage

Cabbage is wonderfully in season right now in the Northern Hemisphere so let me ramble on about that for a bit. Cabbages and other members of the brassica family contain defensive chemicals (enzymes and precursors) that combine in times of stress on the plant (cutting, cooking, being eaten etc.) to create bitter flavours and pungent aromas. This is the plant’s way of protecting itself. These defensive glucosinolates are at their minimum in the cold and wet, which is why cabbages (and other brassicae like brussel sprouts) are at their mildest and sweetest during winter. Glucosinolates are more concentrated towards the centre of the vegetables in the fast growing areas and are highly water soluble, so boiling cut brassicae allow these to leech out, leaving them sweeter still.

For the actual dish itself, it’s just quartered cabbage boiled in stock for about 10 minutes and then slathered in enough melted butter to kill a hors.  It’s then seasoned and baked at 200C for about 25 minutes until it becomes blackened and awesome.

There’s also a variation I make for eating with roast pork where the only difference to what has been done above is to add a single star anise to the water as you boil the cabbage. This changes the character of the dish substantially. Anise is flavoured by a chemical compound called trans anethole. It’s a super-sweet natural chemical (13 times chemically sweeter than sugar – so sweet in fact that we hardly recognise it as so un its undiluted form – chew a star anise and you’ll see what I mean) that acts on the sulphide glucosinolates in the cabbage (also in onion) to create robust, sweet flavours. Adding the anise to the boiling cabbage may seem like not much at all, but it makes a huge difference to the final flavour.

Better eating through chemistry!

Vegetable Gardens of Central Japan

Hiking in the countryside last weekend I honestly can’t help but be jealous of people who can grow their own vegetables and live next to water.  It makes my apartment feel like an empty shell.

Join me in envy.

Nice garden with boats to one side. I want.

Not a bad view to garden by. I could happily while away weekends here.

I don’t know what’s being grown here, but because it’s next to a ski field in winter, all the fencing posts are old ski poles

This reminds of a game of Frogger for some reason.

Rice. Made from Sun.

She’s 70 years old and she’s up gardening at 7:00am. Kudos.

My absolute favourite. The guy who owns this garden is fishing in the top left corner.

Twitter Weekends (July 2009)

Weekend: Vegetarian tapas x beer; pizza x red wine; Bon-odori, Birthday Curry x reisling. Now that I read that, it’s no wonder I feel sick.
2:24 PM Jul 26th from web  

Weekend: Nomikai, Karaoke, Nasi Lemak, Beetroot Damper (failed), True Blood, Dinner and drinks with the guys, Lemongrass Roast Pork Belly.
3:09 PM Jul 21st from web

Weekend: Sidecar motorbike tour, teaching my niece to swim, Beijing galleries and markets, BBQ with my family, terrace drinks at Two Rooms.
3:52 PM Jul 12th from web

Weekend: Jack Bauer, hot dogs + homemade pickles, outdoor izakaya beers, bike shops, beautiful furoshiki and Michael J Fox movies.
3:29 PM Jul 6th from web

Dumpling Day!

I’m crazy about dumplings of any kind, and one of my favourite things to do on a rainy weekend is to make a whole bunch of dumplings of various flavours.  They freeze extremely well and after a relaxing afternoon of dumpling making, you have a well-stocked freezer and the security of knowing that for the next few months you are just minutes away from a delicious homemade dumpling feast at any time.  Dumpling Day should be a national holiday.

The secret to a good dumpling is the texture of the filling.  The filling should be firm, consistent and springy.  Too many homemade dumplings suffer from fillings that are separate and grainy, and which do not offer sufficient resistance to the teeth.  To make a delicious, springy dumpling we need to look at a chemical process called thermogelling.  In a nutshell, muscle fibres in meat and fish contain myofibrillary proteins known as actin and myosin.  In solution, these proteins form a gel which, when heated, traps water, fat and starch creating a springy and tender texture.  Creating a strong gel depends on a number of factors, including the concentration of these proteins, the temperature of the solution, its acidity and its salt content.
So how does this translate to Dumpling Day? It’s all about creating the right environment for the formation of the gel, and ensuring that your filling has the right amount of water, fat and starch to create the right texture.

First, we need start in the morning with a basic pork mixture.  Take minced pork (I used about 1.5 kilos of medium fatty mince and ended up with more than 100 dumplings).  The No.1 complaint with homemade dumplings is that they turn out grainy.  This is usually due to the mince being too coarse.  If you are buying mince, run it through a mincer once or twice more to make sure it is very fine, or if you don’t have a mincer just put it in a food processor and pulse it a few times.  The mince should also have a good amount of fat through it.  The fattier the mince the more tender the filling will be, but if the mince is too fatty then there will not be enough actual meat (muscle) to release its myosin for creating the gel that gives the filling the right springiness.  Once the meat is the right texture, you can make a basic dumpling mix.

Add to the meat some white vinegar, finely chopped spring onion garlic and ginger, salt, white pepper, and cornstarch.  Using your hands, mix everything together and knead the mixture very firmly for about 20 minutes.  The kneading process is vital, as it releases the myofibrillary protein from its muscular organisation and allows the creation of the gelatinized network that gives you a springy filling.  Set this aside in the fridge.

The dumpling mixture is fine as it is, but if you like you can flavour the plain dumpling mixture with anything else you like. Here’s some food for thought:

  • Prawn
  • Chinese Chives
  • Shiso (perilla)
  • Chinese Cabbage
  • Shiitake Mushrooms
  • Water Chestnuts
  • Fresh Herbs
  • Chili Paste
  • Pea Shoots
  • etc. etc. etc.

Separate your flavourings into separate bowls and add to them the basic pork mixture.  Now take turns with each flavouring, transferring it to your big mixing bowl and kneading until the flavourings are all combined and the mixture becomes springy – around 5 minutes for each batch.  Transfer all your bowls of mixture to the fridge and let it rest for a few hours to allow the gel network to form.  The saltiness of the mixture and the acidity of the vinegar provide a suitable environment for this process.  With the prawns, you have added additional myosin from the prawn meat, so you may notice this mixture becoming very springy, almost to the point of being ‘bouncy’.
After a few hours it’s time to make your dumplings.  I won’t go into dumpling folding methods (maybe another time), but you can make wontons, jiaozi, pleated gyoza or simple dumplings for boiling… whatever takes your fancy.  For me, I usually make these dumplings in broth so I use a very simple fold that looks fine in soup or boiled.  If you wanted to make dumplings for frying (like gyoza) or steaming (like xiaolongbao/shourumpo), then you may prefer a slightly more attractive shape.  You can even just leave them as half moons, like some Japanese or Korean dumplings.

Bought gow-gee wrappers are fine, but I prefer to make my own with a very simple boiling water dough.  Take 4cups of plain flour and mix with 2 cups of boiling water.  Bring the dough together with a spoon and then turn out onto the bench and knead for about 5 minutes until the dough is silky.  Cover with plastic wrap and rest for about half an hour.  Roll the dough out into long snakes and then pinch off into balls about half the size of a ping pong ball.  Roll each ball out to a circle, rolling from the centre to the edge and turning the wrapper 90 degrees after every roll.  It should be about 8 rolls until you have a perfectly round wrapper.

My method is to take a gyoza wrapper, place about a teaspoon of dumpling filling in the centre.  Dip your finger in a bowl of water and wet the top half edge of the wrapper and fold the bottom half up into a half-moon shape, making sure that the filling is centred, and that there is no air trapped in the wrapper.  Then wet the very top of the half-moon and fold each end up to the centre.  Store on a tray (making sure they don’t touch each other) and then when each batch is finished, transfer the tray to the freezer.

When they’re well frozen, transfer each batch to a large ziplock bag marked with the corresponding flavour and continue to store in the freezer.

To cook, you can boil the frozen dumplings in salted water or stock for about 10 minutes, or steam them for about 12-15, or even fry them (as for gyoza) or deep fry them.  Bear in mind though that the difference between these and commercially frozen dumplings (aside from tasting much better and not containing any of the chemical additives) is that firstly, they don’t contain preservatives so they will not last as long in the freezer and secondly, the filling is not pre-cooked, so you need to make sure they are cooked all the way through.

Personally, I usually steam or boil them for a snack served with some chili oil and black vinegar, or add them to broth for a dumpling soup breakfast.  There’s nothing quite like a homemade dumpling, so set aside a day of your weekend for the mental therapy of Dumpling Day.

Umeshu Ambrosia

The area under my kitchen bench is slowly filling with homemade pickles, jams and various other kitchen concoctions.  One of my favourites is Umeshu.

Umeshu is often called “Plum Wine” in English, but in truth ume are not actually plums (more like an apricot), and the resulting liquor is more like an infused spirit (like a flavoured vodka or spiced rum) than a fermented wine.

The two main uses of ume are as a salted and dried condiment (umeboshi), or alternatively steeped in alcohol to make the popular umeshu. Around the umeshu bottling season, ume and the other ingredients are readily available all around Japan.  Unfortunately, I think those of you in other countries might struggle a little to find what you need. If you can get ume, make sure to use the unripe green fruit, not the yellow fruit which is more commonly used for umeboshi.

The basic method for umeshu is very simple.  You need the ingredients listed and a large glass container of around 5L in capacity.  Again, in Japan umeshu jars are readily available but if you can’t find them a very large pickling jar would be fine.

The sugar should be rock sugar (or ‘ice sugar’ in Japan). It looks like solid white crystals the size of a coin.  Normal sugar will not do, although as you see in the variations you can add a number of different sweeteners together with the rock sugar.

The spirit used also varies greatly.  In Japan, people will use shochu or the commercial ‘White Spirit’ sold in liquor stores at around 35% alcohol by volume.  Brandy and vodka are also relatively popular.  I will definitely make this with rum one day (whether rum alone or blended with other spirits).

  1. Wash the ume and leave in a colander to air dry.  Do the same with your jar.
  2. Using a skewer, remove the stems from the ume.  These should come out quite easily.
  3. Layer the sugar and ume in the jar (there is no need to prick the ume, although some recipes do call for this) in alternating layers and then cover with the spirit until fully submerged.
  4. Leave in a cool, dark place for at least 3 months, but it is better after 6 or more.  You can swirl the container every week or so for the first few months if you like, but this is also not important.

It really is that simple.  I usually drunk this over ice or mixed with soda water for a very sweet and refreshing apertif or digestive.

I made the Cumquat and Honey version in 2007 and I am enjoying it immensely now, and the Black Sugar version last season in 2008.  The Black Sugar version took a little longer to mellow in flavour, but after about 12 months was aged nicely.

This year I was unfortuantely out of the country for much of ume season so there is no 2009 vintage resting under my bench, but thankfully this infusion method works for all kinds fruits.  I am still on the lookout for what try for 2009.  The current front runners are strawberry and pepper, or lemon and red shiso, but I haven’t quite decided yet.

Basic Umeshu

  • 1kg Green Ume
  • 300g Rock Sugar
  • 2L White Spirit

黒糖梅酒 – Black Sugar Umeshu

  • 1kg Green Ume
  • 150g Rock Sugar
  • 150g Black Sugar
  • 2L White Spirit

金橘と蜂蜜梅酒 – Cumquat and Honey Umeshu

  • 1kg Ume Plums
  • 200g Honey
  • 150g Rock Sugar
  • 2L White Spirit
  • 500mL Cumquat Liqueur (from Chinese groceries)
Salt Crust Nagoya Cochin

A friend called me last night to invite me over to his house for lunch to play some records and discuss names for a new restaurant that he’s opening up here in Tokyo.  I said I’d bring over some supplies, and in the end decided on roasting a chicken.

There are a lot of recipes for salt-crusted chicken that you see, but until today I’d never before tried any of them.   In truth, my feeling was that if you were going to roast a chicken, why would you want to miss out on the delicious salty, crispy skin that everybody loves.  I decided to try this anyway because it is so easy to transport, and now I am a total convert to the salt crust movement.  I have honestly never had chicken that succulent and juicy before, and the flavour is achieved without eating the skin, or adding any butter or oil whatsoever.   I don’t know if I’m kidding myself, but I think this is a pretty healthy recipe.

First you start with the dough.  Mix together the flour and the rock salt on the bench, and then into a well in the centre add the egg whites and about half a cup of water.   Draw the dough together and knead until it is all combined.  Cover with a tea towel and set aside.

Then to the chicken.  I used a Nagoya Cochin, a Japanese chicken that was first bred in the 1800s as a cross between the native Nagoyan chicken and the black-boned cochin chickens from China.  The meat is tender and the flavour strong and sweet.  The Chinese breed is also supposed to have curative properties, if you believe in that kind of thing.  If you can’t get Nagoya Cochin (and 99% of people reading this probably can’t), I would recommend spending a little extra on a great quality free-range bird; the taste of battery-farmed birds is so weak it is cannot be compared to the real thing.  Quality matters with any ingredient, but with chicken more so than any other meat, commercial farming has sacrificed quality for yield and we are all the poorer for it.  (Other contenders for the title of “Common Food Most Ruined by Commercial Production” are tomatoes, milk, sausages and bread  – but that’s just my opinion.)

Wash and dry the bird and trim any visible fat, and the neck and feet (with many organic birds the neck is left on and the feet are trimmed at the ankle rather than at the drumstick joint.  With the Nagoya Cochin the ankle is a  deep black colour).  Rub the skin with the paprika and then add half the herbs, zest and garlic to the cavity, grinding in a generous amount of black pepper.  In a Jamie Oliver recipe I saw for this once he added the entire lemon to the cavity.  I have always found that this creates an overpoweringly wet and acidic lemon flavour from the juice that drowns out the delicacy of a good bird.  In my opinion, it’s best to stick to the zest only.

Roll out the dough to slightly thicker than 0.5cm and make sure it’s large enough to wrap the entire bird.  Place the bird breast down in the centre of the dough and then stack the rest of the herbs, zest and garlic on top (i.e. the wing side that is facing up).  Fold the dough around to totally enclose the bird and pinch together any holes.

Lightly oil your baking try and turn the package folds down, so that the breast is now facing up.  Glaze the top of the dough with the reserved egg yolks and put into a pre-heated 220C oven for 1.5 hours.  The glaze will give a nice even browning and shine to the dough for presentation.  Relax and tidy up your mess.

That is honestly how easy it is.  When everything was done I threw the entire case into a bag (lined with a little newspaper just in case of any leaks) and headed off to my friend’s house with some raw asparagus, a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and a six pack of Heineken in a cooler bag.  We served the chicken with chargrilled asparagus (white, green and purple asparagus just salted and chargrilled with organic lemon wedges on the side, some salads my friend had made and some beautiful sourdough another friend brought.  We also had a quiche, and sweets from a local patisserie rounding out the meal.

To serve the chicken, use a serrated bread knife to open a “lid” in the dough.  Do this at the table to really appreciate the aroma that’s released.  Then just carve the chicken as usual and discard the dough (don’t eat this, please).  It was almost an hour and a half from the oven to when we were eating, but insulated by the dough case the meat was still warm and tender.

A few bottles of nice red wine later (Montes NapaAngel) later and we were all very full and satisfied.  I need more afternoons like this.

Salt Crust Nagoya Cochin

1 Nagoya Cochin (or other good quality free range chicken), about 1.5kgs
A good handful each of fresh rosemary, thyme and marjoram
Zest of 1 lemon, taken with a peeler
1 tsp paprika
6 cloves of garlic, skin on

For the crust:
1kg plain flour
4 eggs (separated)
500g rock salt