Seeing the amber light

Something unexpected has happened to me since I’ve been living in England. I’ve become a beer snob. Really, no one could be more surprised than me.

I grew up believing that the measure of a good beer is how cold it is. The colder, the better because we were indoctrinated with the slogan ‘a hard earned thirst needs a big cold beer’. Pub selections were always based on which one served the coldest beer (chilled glasses scored highly) rather than the type they actually kept.

When I arrived in the UK and was served tepid, flat beer, helpfully labelled ‘bitter', initially I was perplexed. How could the beer stay cold when poured by the pint rather than the pot? Clearly the poms weren't working up much of a thirst.

I'm not sure exactly when or how it happened but at some point over the last 4 years I had a beer epiphany. Its like discovering iberico after being raised on spam or drinking a proper espresso after making do with instant coffee. Suddenly the penny drops.

Just as I learned that the taste of coffee differs enormously depending on the origin of the bean and how its roasted and brewed, I came to appreciate that beer is a similarly complex beast. The hops, the malt, the alcohol content and the brewing recipe all add up to a smorgasbord of styles from porter and stout to lager, pale ale and yep, good old bitter, a far cry from Victoria Bitter, which I now recognise as a pretty piss poor lager.

As my exposure to different beers has widened, so too has my beer vocabulary from 'mmm its cold' to it's 'biscuity' 'floral', 'citrusy', 'grassy' or 'treacly'. To drink generic bottled lager now seems completely uninspiring, even if its a frosty cold one. Its hard to go back to instant coffee once you’ve had a flat white.

Having seen the amber light I'm thirsty for knowledge and eager to research.  


You'll find me arriving with beer instead of wine when invited for dinner;

Meantime's Porter goes down a treat at a barbeque

I spend my days off visiting micro brewerys like The Kernel,

The Kernel Brewery in Bermondsey

where they hand label every bottle;

a labour of love that few could appreciate.

Angelle stamping Lantana takeaway cups

I seek out pubs based on the range of beer they serve rather then its temperature;    

The Jerusalem Tavern in Clerkenwell

The Charles Lamb in Islington

And of course, I look for opportunities to incorporate beer into my cooking.

Beef and Stout Pie- recipe below

Like a true evangelist, I want to share my new love so Lantana is now stocking some interesting craft beers. Come in and enjoy a cold frosty, metaphorically speaking.

Beef and Stout Pie

(serves 4)


750g stewing beef such as skirt, chuck or shin
4 tbsp plain flour seasoned with salt and pepper
4 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp tomato purée
500ml Stout

350g shallots, peeled

1 tablespoon muscovado sugar

1 teaspoon soy sauce

Few sprigs of thyme
2 bay leaves
2 garlic cloves, peeled 

200g chestnut mushrooms, thickly sliced
500g puff pastry
1 egg lightly beaten

Dice the beef into 2.5cm cubes and toss it in the seasoned flour to coat.

Heat the oil in a large pan and fry the beef until golden brown. Add the tomato purée and cook for 1 minute, stirring well. Pour in the stout and add the sugar, soy sauce, shallot, thyme, bay leaf and garlic. Season with salt and pepper. Cover and simmer for 1.5 hours. Half an hour before the end of the cooking time, add the mushrooms. Once cooked, remove the bay leaf and discard. Allow the mixture to cool.

Preheat the oven to 200C/Gas 6.

Transfer the meat to a 20cm pie dish.

Roll out the pastry and cover the pie. Scrunch the pastry to the edge of the dish and trim around the edge, leaving 1-2cm overhanging. Brush the top with the egg.


Bake for 15-20 minutes.    

Baking for Britain

Nothing says Australian summer to me quite like a pavlova; crisp meringue with a soft marshmallowy centre, smothered with whipped cream, masses of luscious berries, and juicy passionfruit.

It’s bright and bold, generous, unrefined, and utterly satisfying. Always a crowd pleaser. Always a show stopper.

Last weekend I went away with some English friends to a small village on the banks of the river Severn in Gloucestershire. With the weather forecast promising clear blue skies and temperatures in the mid 20s there was talk of barbecues, sunbathing and walks along the beach.  Feeling firmly in my comfort zone, I volunteered to make desert for the Saturday night barbie. Bring on the Aussie pav.

But as we meandered along picturesque country lanes through fields of daffodils and spotted pigs,

 

and along the banks of the Severn where people unhurriedly fished in the soft afternoon sunlight

I started to waver on my decision for desert. I suddenly saw the pavlova in a new light. It seemed too brash, too showy, too…Aussie? What this tranquil setting called for was a desert with subtlety and restraint. Something quintessentially British.

I remembered Oliver Peyton’s article in the Times' weekend magazine a few weeks ago where he wrote that “baking is the heart and soul of British cooking… Sifting, kneading, folding or whisking- these things are comforting and communal, old fashioned and timeless”.

A quick google search saved me from making a cultural faux pav. Instead I made a Bakewell Tart; 

A delicious sweet tart in which the berries hide their brightness under a bushel of buttery frangipane and flaked almonds. Served with a modest dollop of creme fraiche. 

It was a triumph for the barbecue and for Britain. 

Bakewell Tart
(10-12 modest serves)

For the shortcrust pastry
115g cold unsalted butter cut into dice
25g castor sugar
200g plain flour
zest of half a lemon
1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon iced water

Mix flour, sugar and zest together. Incorporate the butter into the flour mix using your finger tips until the mixture resembles bread crumbs. Add the egg yolk and the water and bring the dough together with a metal knife as quickly as possible. (Important not to overwork pastry as it will become tough). Shape the pastry into a disc, cover with cling film and refrigerate for 30 minutes. 

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the pastry to 2mm thickness and line a 28cm tart tin with a depth of 2cm.  Prick the base with a fork and put case in freezer for an hour. Heat the oven to 180C. 

Line the pastry case with baking parchment and fill with weights (scrunched up tin foil will work if you are in a country cottage with no pastry weights). Cook for about 15 minutes until the pastry is a pale golden colour. Take out the parchment paper and brush the inside of the pastry case with a little egg white. Cool. Reduce oven to 170C.


For the filling
200g unsalted butter (melted)
200g castor sugar
200g ground almonds
3 eggs (lightly beaten)
50g self raising flour
100g good quality raspberry jam
100g fresh raspberries lightly crushed
50g flaked almonds


Mix flour and ground almonds in a large bowl. Add the melted butter and eggs and gently fold into the dry mix until just incorporated.

Spread base of the cooked pastry case with jam. Scatter crushed berries over the jam and pour in the almond mixture. Smooth the surface and scatter the flaked almonds on top. 

Bake for 30 minutes then cover with tin foil to stop it browning further. Bake another 10 minutes until filling is just set. Serve with creme fraiche. 

Pavlova
(6-8 immodest serves)

6 free-range egg whites at room temperature
375g caster sugar
3 tsp cornflour
1.5 tsp white wine vinegar
½ tsp vanilla extract

For the topping
300ml cream whipped until soft peaks form
5 passion fruit
3 punnets mixed berries

Preheat the oven to 180C.
Line a baking sheet with baking paper and draw a rough 25cm circle onto it. In a dry bowl, whisk the egg whites until soft peaks form when the whisk is removed, then whisk in the sugar, one third at a time, until stiff and shiny. Sprinkle the cornflour, vinegar and vanilla extract over the egg white, and fold in lightly with a metal spoon. Spoon the meringue onto the baking parchment within the marked circle and, using a spatula, flatten the top and smooth the sides. Place into the oven and immediately reduce the heat to 150C. Cook for an hour and 1/4, then turn off the oven and leave to cool completely. (I usally cook it the day before and leave it in the oven overnight).

When you are ready to assemble the pavlova, invert it onto a plate and peel off the baking parchment. Spoon the cream onto the meringue base, then pile on the berries and passionfruit.

Freestyle surfing

 

What do you get when you cross a grown man in a bib with a coffee bong and a micro roastery? The third wave of coffee. Or is it the fourth wave now? I don't know, I’m still on my boogie board surfing the second espresso wave...dude.

I hadn’t been home to Australia in the 4 years I’ve been living in London so thought it was time for a trip back to check out what has been happening in my absence.

If you thought London was starting to get seriously geeky about coffee, you ain’t seen nothing yet if Australia is any indication of where it’s  all heading.

There seems to have been an explosion of micro- roasters, single origin coffees, lighter roasting, drip brewing, hi-tech gadgetry and perhaps most inexplicably, baristas wearing bib aprons.

Never one to leave cafe exploration to chance, I went armed with a long list of ‘the best’ cafes to try in Melbourne.  First stop, Proud Mary: the Fat Duck of the Melbourne café scene.

Located down a side street in Collingwood, (what used to be a pretty dingy part of Melbourne but now home to all the hot new cafes, bars and restaurants in town) Proud Mary is a modern and airy warehouse conversion that epitomises the pointy end of the coffee revolution in Melbourne.

There’s an impressive array of coffee paraphenalia on display to provide customers with a choice of  extraction methods: syphon, filter, clover, cold drip, or if you’re old school, an espresso based coffee made with the world’s first custom built 6 group Hydra Synesso machine which allows the baristas to adjust the temperature of each group head to suit particular single origin or blended coffees. Each day they offer 3 different single origins as well as 2 blends for their espresso based coffee drinks. And that's just the espresso.

It was here that I had one of the most amazing coffees I’ve ever tasted.

60mls of cold drip single origin Sumatran coffee extracted over 12 hours, served on ice. The taste was indescribable – so sweet, clean and smooth, it was like a fine liqueur.

From there I visited the cafes set up by the Seven Seeds coffee roasters:

Brother Baba Budan in  Little Bourke Street (Photo courtesy of Breakfast Out)

De Clieu in Gertrude St, Collingwood

The original, Seven Seeds in Carlton. Note men in bibs.

The East Brunswick Project in Nicholson St who roast their own coffee called Padre.

St Ali in South Melbourne

The Sensory Lab in David Jones in the city,

More men wearing bibs.

And the Auction Rooms, who roast Small Batch coffee, in Errol St, North Melbourne

As I went down my ‘best of’ list I was starting to feel a little bemused and alienated, and not dissimilar to how I felt during the Summernats car festival when I was living in Canberra. There seemed to be lots of boys revving their engines and admiring their reflections in big shiny machines, speaking a language I didn't understand.

This new wave of coffee does provide some good entertainment (as does Summernats) but what I really wanted was a welcoming space to catch up with friends. What had happened to the little unpretentious and quirky cafes that I loved about Melbourne and where were all the chicks? Fear not, as they are also there in abundance, going about their business, serving fantastic food and coffee but without quite so much noise or petrol fumes.

At Bell Jar in Smith Street Collingwood,

Photo courtesy of Melbourne Gastronome

Milkwood in Nicholson St, Brunswick East

Mitte in Michael Street, North Fitzroy

 

Pope Joan in Nicholson Street, Brunswick East

Amsterdam in Richmond

Photo courtesy of Melbourne Gastronome

Cornershop in Yarraville

and North in Rathdowne St North Carlton

When someone asked me on my return what was the one thing I wanted to steal from Melbourne cafes for Lantana, I had to think long and hard. The cafes where I had the most enjoyable experience were not necessarily the cafes where I’d drunk the best coffee, seen the most impressive barista theatre, eaten the best food or seen the most stylish fitout. My favourite cafes were the ones where I felt the warmth, individuality and personality of the staff and the owner. They were the cafes that felt like they weren’t copying someone else’s style or following the latest trends just for the sake of it.

I read a comment on twitter recently by a visitor to London who wrote “I am left with a feeling I've visited the same coffee shop on different sides of town. Are the London third wave independents a new chain?”

It has been something that has been nagging me recently too as I see some of the new cafes opening in London that seem to be copying other cafes or following fads and lacking in individuality. 

When I read that twitter comment I knew what I wanted to hold onto from my trip back home. A commitment to individuality. 'Independent' is an ethos, not a brand.  I'm going to surf my own wave.

‘Let’s Twitter’. Without a doubt, the lightest, cheapest and most up to date travel guide to take away with you on holiday.

As someone who struggles to get organised but hates feeling that they’re missing out on the best places to eat and drink in a new city, I used to feel torn when I went away for a short weekend break. Should I leave my restaurant choices to chance and to the hotel staff who disinterestedly direct you to the touristy, expensive options (or their uncle’s restaurant)? Or should I instead, invest in a travel guide that will already be out of date by the time it is printed and on my return home will sit on a book shelf until the next time I travel to that country, by which time it will be so out of date the currency and national borders may have changed, let alone the best places to eat?

But now that I’ve embraced my technology alter ego, I’ve discovered that there’s another option. The twitter guide; an easily accessible repository of recommendations from on-the-ground food and coffee enthusiasts who share their opinions freely and fearlessly.

The first time I relied on twitter recommendations I was a little coy about naming my source to travel companions. As we trekked through a city, passing countless restaurants or cafes, I would reassure them that the place we were going to had been recommended and the effort would be worth it. It was only afterwards when we were, more often than not, eating a fantastic meal or sipping a good coffee that I would come clean. Incredulously they'd ask; “So we just walked for an hour because someone you’ve never met and know nothing about recommended this place to you on twitter?”

“Correct. Problema?”

I know I could travel with an up to date online guide written by reputable reviewers but there is something about following a twitter recommendation that seems more exciting when it pays off because of the leap of faith involved.

Last weekend in Barcelona I relied on my twitter guide once again and was rewarded with these gastronomic delights from faceless, random tweeters.

Saturday lunch at one of the tapas bars inside Mercat de la Boqueria as recommended by @thefoodplace

Delicious espresso at Federal Cafe, a new Australian owned cafe in Sant Antoni recommended by @Hudsoncakes...

who also suggested the insanely busy Jai-Ca in Barceloneta where we were jostled by locals having Sunday lunch and tried in vain to work out what the system was to get a table.

Giving up, we ate standing at the bar and watched in wonder as the staff calmly managed to serve plates of beautifully fresh and simple seafood tapas amidst the chaos.

Thanks also @Camdencoffee for recommending Cerveceria Catalana, 236 Mallorca where we had our final meal (by which time my camera's battery had died).