Yuppiechef: Eat For the Earth

Posted on May 31, 2013

You’re reading this post. So I already know you dig:

1. Food

2. Booze

3. Enjoying food and booze with mates.

In other words, you don’t need an excuse to get a few cool people together to do some cooking. But here’s one anyway – it comes form the awesome people at Yuppiechef.

On June 5th (National Environmental Day) the crew has arranged an incentive called Eat For The Earth. With all proceeds going to their Soil For Life charity, all you do is head over to the website (www.eatfortheearth.com) and register your event on their plant wall. One plant, one event. You are then encouraged to get people to support your event by donating money. These are likely to be guests you are cooking for, but not necessarily. As they give cash for the cause, your plant gets cool things added to it in the form of “plant love”. These are typically quirky of the brand and include lego men, mini pink cars, bunny ears, Indian headdresses, trolls, stickers etc.

The reason I love this campaign is because of the transparency. Yuppiechef have created the wall which could have backfired for them badly if nobody had got involved. Imagine how sad that empty space would look. Instead, more and more people are getting their plant up there and doing their best to rally some support and some cash. It’s very, very cool and it becomes a visual representation of everybody chipping in.

I hope you get on board. For those that are interested let me break down some options:

1. Register your own event and cook on the 5th of June.

2. Donate to the event I have arranged (a collaborative lunch at Dear Me). Look on their site for the plant, as per the pic above.

3. Donate AND ATTEND the above event.

4. Donate to any of the other cool events on the wall.

That’s it really. If you want to see a bit more check out the video below which we shot yesterday while I was visiting Yuppiechef HQ.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rr7Kw8ODc9I

Go forth and eat,

Andy

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Confessions of A Hungry Woman

Posted on April 23, 2013

Sam Woulidge has built up quite a following with her monthly column in TASTE Magazine. And rightfully so. Through her words she manages – every month – to take something as seemingly simple as food and somehow translate it into life lessons. Of course, life lessons can often be condescending and (let’s face it) irritating. This happens when they are delivered in a preachy, higher-than-thou tone. I don’t think Sam could get that tone massaged into her writing if she tried.

Instead, she is the friendly relative who invites you into their kitchen. She’s the talented chef who fills you in on one or two cooking tips you never forget. She’s the proud fisherman showing off glistening tuna. She’s a wife, a mother and a friend to share a bottle of wine with. She’s a winemaker. In short, her writing lets her become whatever you need at the time, and her subject matter has always been perfectly conveyed in the pages of magazines.

The fact that she has recently released a book, where these raw emotions are on shelves for anyone to pick up and read, is not lost on me. Sam has always struck me as a writer who is enormously honest and, unlike a lot of recipe/food books (mine included if I’m honest), this is a personal journey where Sam wears her heart on her sleeve. Confessions Of  A Hungry Woman introduces you to a bunch of colourful and talented locals who share a love of food and wine. That’s the “plot” in a nutshell. What makes it so special though is the writing. Sam’s writing. Writing that makes this writer feel insignificant when he reads it. Writing that makes you laugh. Writing that makes tears well up in your eyes. Writing that makes you crave weird things. Like granadillas.

This is a book to add to the collection of anyone who loves food but also one to add to the collection of anyone who loves life. And anyone who loves reading. It’s sort-of a recipe book, as it does have recipes, but it’s also one that you can read on a Sunday morning. Look out for it at all major bookstores – you might notice the subtle cover.

Go forth and eat,

Andy

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Bacardi Legacia

Posted on April 10, 2013

 

If you’re reading these pages, chances are you know who Pete Goffe-Wood is. You know who David Higgs is. You’ll have heard of Reuben Riffel. Luke Dale-Roberts? Yup, that rings a bell. Margot Janse - yes, yes, I know that one. In other words, you will be fully aware of the top chefs that this country has to offer.

But who the hell is Ryan Duvenage? And Assaf Yechiel. And Nick Koumbarakis. And Travis Kuhn. And Anil Sabharwal. No clue, right? I don’t blame you – nobody knows them. Not the way they should. These dudes are some of the best bartenders in the country. And quite why they don’t get more credit is beyond me.

Let’s stick with the chef comparison. A good chef will get some kind of formal training. They’ll then get work experience. They’ll bust their ass racking up long hours for shit pay. They’ll get yelled at. They’ll get shat on. But they’ll do their time. Eventually they’ll make inroads and start climbing the kitchen hierarchy. One day they may open their own spot, or they’ll head into catering, consulting or something related to their field.

Here’s the part I don’t get:

Good bartenders are no different.

They’ve also put in the hard yards. (In fact, they’ve probably dealt with more abusive customers than any chef in the country.) They’ve also spent years perfecting their skill set. They’ve also worked crazy hours for stupid salaries. And for far too long they have been under-appreciated. Having spent a bit of time recently with some of the best in their field, I’m amazed at two things:

1. Their commitment. We aren’t talking about guys who are in this field because they couldn’t hack it in the corporate world. These guys are here out of choice, not necessity. Passion is what drives them and they are 100% dedicated to their craft. They’re constantly learning, constantly experimenting and constantly innovating. Do you know who that reminds me of? Chefs. Celebrated, talented chefs.

2. Their palates. When you taste various drinks every day – each with subtleties and nuances – it stands to reason that you’ll be able to pick out a few flavour profiles. But the level of sophistication these guys show is quite something. Forget the poncey wine writers and commentators that get most of the media attention. If you want to taste (and I mean TASTE) good booze, do it with these guys.

Anyway, last week I judged the local chapter of a global competition spearheaded by Bacardi. Following a nationwide search, four bartenders were picked to present their cocktails (which they each invented themselves) to the judges. The brief was to create an iconic, “legacy” drink that has the potential to sit alongside classics like The Negroni, The Manhattan, The Mint Julep, The Daiquiri etc.

The quality of the drinks we tasted was top-drawer but, in the end, Nick Koumbarakis came out on top for his coffee-inspired drink, The Tourist. It was a well-deserved win for Nick, who quickly proved to us that we had made the right choice by crying like a baby when his name was announced. Ha. In all seriousness though, to see how much it meant to the guy was pretty cool. And to hear his heartfelt acceptance speech was an eye-opener. These emerging bartenders are at the top of their game but they are all noticeably on the same team. They’re looking to promote the forgotten art of mixing good, classic, clean and delicious drinks. I’m on board. I admire the shit out of them. My message is simple: bartenders, AND IN FACT BARTENDING, in this country, deserve(s) more respect.

Go forth and eat,

Andy

P.S. A big shout out to Travis, Anil and Ryan. Your cocktails all rocked and it was a privilege to imbibe.

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Nose-to-tail class at Chef’s Warehouse

Posted on February 27, 2013

 

Liam Tomlin used to scare the shit out of me. Maybe it was because I have been a huge fan of his for years and have tracked his career through his various accolades and cookbooks. Maybe it was because of those damn blue eyes and that fiery Irish accent. Maybe it was because when I did finally meet him he was busy shooting a portrait picture which involved:

a. Liam

b. A cleaver

c. A lot of chicken blood

For whatever reason, I found Mr. Tomlin extremely intimidating. Which is why it has been a revelation to get to know him. In fact, it’s been a privilege. You see, it turns out Liam Tomlin is not only one of the most talented chefs I’ve ever met; he’s also one of the coolest. With his Chef’s Warehouse facility, he has built a food nirvana and has had some of the biggest local names through his doors to host workshops and classes.

So why am I telling you all of this? Because I find it pretty hilarious (read terrifying) that I will be following in their footsteps. Yup. On the 14th of March, Liam and I will be hosting a nose-to-tail course. With some of the ingredients being slightly…unusual…all I ask is that you come with an open mind and an empty stomach.

Check out the menu below:

  • Fat-washed, Grey Goose Bloody Mary with chorizo popcorn
  • Devilled lamb kidney bruschetta
  • Confit’d and deep-fried pig’s ears with dipping sauce (paired with Everson’s Apple Cider)
  • Seared duck hearts on wet polenta
  • Panna cotta with candied guanciale and pear (paired with Everson’s Pear Cider)

The above meat-feast will set you back R500. At worst you get a bit lot of booze and a few lot of laughs. Come on down. It should be cool.

Go forth and eat,

Andy

 

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Jiro Dreams of Sushi

Posted on January 24, 2013

It could be argued that a top chef’s challenge today is to meet the public’s seemingly never-ending fascination with novelty/gimmicky food. Of course that’s a cynical approach. The flip side of this is sometimes true innovation and – in some cases – genius.

Maybe this desire to change and constantly adapt to meet demand is why I found Jiro Dreams Of Sushi so brilliant. You see, with all the fiddly food that is being produced nowadays, simple but perfectly-executed food is what I find myself drawn to nine times out of ten when it’s my turn to book the restaurant. Sure, there are cases when a full-on tasting menu will blow my mind. But it’s the comfort of a flawless risotto or a well-cooked steak that do it for me most often.

This movie is 80 minutes dedicated to that exact simplicity and perfection in food. It’s a documentary that follows a three-Michelin-star chef. Not your average three-star chef…if there is such a thing. This dude is 85 years old. And he makes sushi. Just sushi.

He’s been doing it since he was a teenager and, for a large part of the movie, we are taught the art of being able to dedicate yourself to repitition. Indeed, the 10 000 hour theory put forward in Freakonomics came to mind as I watched. If ever there was a good example of practice making perfect, Jiro is it.

The movie is simply shot and touches on Jiro’s upbringing and his complicated relationship with his two sons. His eldest son is 50 years old and still grafts away under his father’s guidance. Surely able to stand on his own feet, and exist as one of the best in the world at what he does, he gracefully accepts the task of working under Jiro and sees it as a privilege instead of some kind of restriction. The younger son left Jiro’s to start up his own restaurant. His father’s comforting words of “if you fail there is no home for you here” are explained in detail by both parties. Again, the acceptance of responsibility is amazing to watch.

There are some incredible  lessons to be taken from this movie, all of which tie in with food philosophies I have seen mirrored in all of our best local chefs. Here are a few:

1. Rather than building an empire and rolling out a whole bunch of restaurants, Jiro and his staff obsesses over his one small outpost (which seats 12 people). The lesson? Strive for perfection.

2. Apprentices work ten years before they are allowed to cook eggs. One, interviewed in the documentary, describes making tamago two hundred and fifty times before Jiro deemed it acceptable. And when he finally got the nod of approval he broke down in tears. The lesson? Humility.

3. Jiro’s “innovation” is so laughably simple . One of his major insights was to massage octopus for 30 minutes to tenderise it, instead of his usual 20 minutes! That was groundbreaking stuff in his restaurant. The lesson? Instead of trying to push the boundaries and re-invent food, sometimes  you need to perfect the basics first.

4. The entry price to eat one FIFTEEN MINUTE meal at Jiro’s is about R3,500.00. The lesson? If simple items are good enough, they can still be top drawer.

5. Along the way we meet a rice dealer and a tuna dealer who are both at the top of their industries. They make a point of expressing that Jiro could get any ingredient he wanted for less from other people. Instead he has committed to the best produce and he goes to great lengths to find it. The lesson? There is no substitute for getting your hands on the best produce.

Jiro Dreams Of Sushi isn’t a movie for everyone. It’s doesn’t have exploding buildings  and the sexiest thing I saw in the whole movie was a whole tuna at a fish market. In other words, it’s for food nerds. But if you want to understand dedication to learning a craft (and perfecting it) this is worth checking out.

Go forth and eat,

Andy

 

 

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The Meat Manifesto

Posted on January 7, 2013

Instead of the first post for 2013 being another “hottest food trends for 2013″ article (we have MORE than enough of those going around at the moment) I thought I’d give you something to add to your list of resolutions as we kick off a new year. To be more precise, I thought I’d urge you to prioritise the way you eat and the way you view meat. Treat it as a new beginning and a good excuse to make some changes. This isn’t meant to be an overly-serious piece but rather a call to action to take a hard look at the shit you are eating and the atrocities that have been committed to get it on your plate. Okay, wait, this  may well be overly-serious.

Inspired by a brilliant book, by a brilliant man (The River Cottage Meat Book by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall) I’d challenge you to read, absorb and actually ACT on my meat manifesto.

2013 Meat Manifesto:

1. Don’t eat meat simply out of habit. Ask questions instead. Pause for a second. Is this meat good enough to actually provide me with pleasure or is it something that I take for granted? Will I forget this meal in a few hours? Could this meat taste better? Should it taste better? Was it cheap or expensive – and, if it was cheap, WHY was it cheap? Maybe better meat is more expansive for a reason. Maybe eating less meat, but meat of a higher quality, is worth considering. Maybe.

2. Think about the animal that gave its life for that piece of meat. Beef is cow. Pork is pig. Meat doesn’t just magically appear in your supermarket aisles. Make the connection. And then ask yourself if you are at all concerned about the way the animals were treated. Have they been fed properly? Have they been treated with respect? And are you sure? How do you know? Did you even ask the person who sold you the meat? Was there even anyone to ask? Perhaps it is time to at least try and find people who seem to be able to answer these questions confidently.

3. Think hard about the way you cook your meat. Do you do it justice? Would you like to know a bit more about how to get the best benefits of various cuts? Because there is plenty of literature out there. Meat is a luxury item and deserves to be treated as such. Arm yourself with knowledge on how to roast, braise, grill, cure etc. and you immediately start looking at meat through different eyes. You respect the meat. You respect the animal that gave its life for the meat.

4. Do you try different things with meat? Do you explore cooking techniques, textures, cheap cuts and offal? There are parts of the animal that nobody ever wants but they are often the best and tastiest cuts of the whole beast! And they’re dirt cheap. Next time you want a fillet of beef, ask yourself: why? If the (wrong in my opinion) answer is you think it’s the tastiest, ask yourself what you are comparing it to. If people explore unusual cuts of meat then the entire animal can be utilised. Another sign of respect.

5. Do you stretch the meat that you buy as far as you can? Do you use leftovers for salads, stews, pasta sauces etc. Are you creative and do you put any effort into turning one meal into two or even three? Some effort and some planning will bring surprising results.

6. Are you willing to accept responsibility? The reason animals are pumped with things like growth hormones and additives is us. And our insatiable demand. As farmers speed up what should be a natural process the animals are the ones who suffer as a result. But the farmers are shirking their ethical responsibilites only because the general public keep snapping up the resulting inferior meat. Are you really ready to stand up and accept that there is a moral dimension that needs to be swallowed along with every bite of meat.

Sheesh, sorry. I got going a bit there didn’t I? But you see where I’m coming from. Instead of making a list with things like “stop smoking” and “go to gym more” on it, do something that counts. Do something that isn’t easy. That’s the point of change isn’t it?

Go forth and eat,

Andy

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Jason Bakery and The Hatch

Posted on October 30, 2012

 

I’ve been doing some branding/consulting work with my good mate over at Jason (no apostrophe!) Bakery. I call it consulting, but – if we’re honest – a lot of it has involved sitting around drinking beer on a Friday afternoon. It was in the middle of exactly such a “brainstorming” session when it dawnded on us: sitting here is pretty cool. Actually, it’s very cool. You’ve got that mountain view and you’ve got a very cool satisfaction that comes with sitting in the heart of the city you love. You’ve also got Boss Models across the road. Irrelevant. But not really. Anyway, it was here that an idea was born: we should invite some friends. In fact, we should invite the whole of Cape Town.

So we are.

Starting this Friday, Jason Bakery is open for business serving a brand, spanking new tapas menu from 4pm – 7pm. On top of that, he will be rolling out his Urban Picnic baskets. Instead of boring shit like tzatziki and hummus, these will involve things like chocolate crackle top biscuits,  beer bread, rillettes, farm butter, pretzels and various pickles, homemade chutneys, preserves etc. Frankie Fenner will be bringing along some cured meats in the form of chorizo, prosciutto, coppa, Soujouk, pastrami etc. and they’ll be paired with a wide range of artisanal cheeses. Order a picnic basket, take a seat at one of the pavement tables and wash everything down with a jug of Bombay Sapphire gin and tonic (with cucumber, mint and lime.) There’ll also be a featured Grey Goose punch of the week to keep you guessing.

And there’s more. Saturday sees the launch of Jason’s new baby: The Hatch. As a stand-alone shop, this hole-in-the-wall will be slinging out exclusive items and answering the question:  where do I eat in the CBD on a Saturday morning? It’s not Jason Bakery that is now open for an extra day. It’s a new menu, with new items, from a new space.

So there you go. Fridays sorted. Saturdays sorted.

Go forth and eat,

Andy

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Spaghetti Carbonara

Posted on October 18, 2012

 

Spaghetti Carbonara is a classic. And, because it’s a classic, there are various things that spark a bit of debate when it comes to making the best version of the dish. I’ll say this: I won’t call this “The Ultimate Carbonara”. In fact, I don’t feel anybody has the right to call their version of  a truly classic dish the ultimate anything, unless they invented it themselves.

Below are some points that you might want to consider.

The pasta:

This might seem like a stupid place to start. If you’re pointing excitedly at the opening word of this post (ready to tell me what an idiot I am) hear me out. I’m not an idiot. You see, penne has made a bit of a recent surge as an alternative. So much so that London’s widely esteemed The River Cafe uses that shape. Now you won’t hear me saying this often, but I think they’ve got it wrong. For me penne is a cop out. For me you should be able to slurp up a long strand of pasta coated in your sauce alone. For me that is the simplicity and the beauty of this dish. So let’s stick to spaghetti.

The sauce:

I have touched on it above. The hero of this bowl of food is unquestionably the sauce. The pasta is just the best way to get it in your mouth. And what’s the point of having beautiful, tarred roads without a kick-arse car to drive? You’re left with three options here. 1)Eggs and cream, 2) eggs and butter, 3) Just eggs  . The first two are just way too much for me. Overpowering, overbearing, over-everything really. If you get the best eggs you can find, you’ll be fine. Trust me.

The eggs:

Wait, there’s more? I’m afraid so. Once you’ve settled on just eggs you need to decide on whole eggs, egg yolks or a combo. I fear this article is starting to get dangerously close to boring, so let’s just say my version is a combination of whole hen eggs and one quail egg yolk per person.

The pork:

Bacon will work. Pancetta, cubed, is infinitely better. This one is not up for debate. You need the rendered fat for the sauce.

The cheese:

Parmesan is preferred in some regions, Pecorino in others. In my particular region (my stomach) I prefer equal amounts of both.

The rest:

You may have broken out into some kind of cold sweat by now, waiting anxiously for the addition of garlic. Well, there is none. Deal with that. The sooner you accept it, the sooner we can move on. And we need to move on, because I am here to tell you there’s no pretty, snipped green herb in here either. Nowhere.

Okay, finally.

Here it is:

Spaghetti Carbonara (enough for 2)

What to use:

A slick of olive oil
About 80g Richard Bosman pancetta, cubed
250g dried spaghetti (the best you can get)
2 hen eggs and 1 egg yolk
25g pecorino, finely grated
25g parmesan, finely grated
Freshly cracked (not ground) black pepper – the amount is up to you but use more than you think for this dish.
2 quail egg yolks, to serve 

1. Heat the oil in a large frying pan on a medium heat, then add the pancetta and cook until golden. You want it cooked to the point where it is beginning to crisp.

2. Meanwhile, cook the spaghetti in plenty of boiling, salted water.

3. In a bowl, beat together the eggs and the extra yolk and then stir in the the pecorino and most of the parmesan, reserving a little for garnish. Throw in plenty of black pepper.

4. Scoop out a small cupful of the pasta cooking water, and then drain the pasta well. Tip it into the frying pan and toss to coat with the rendered pancetta fat.

4. Take the pan off the heat and tip in the egg mixture, tossing the pasta very quickly. Once it begins to thicken, add a splash of cooking water to loosen the sauce. Toss again, spoon into deep bowls and add the remaining parmesan. As a final touch place one quail egg yolk in each dish.

There is no Carbonara dogma. The above is my method, but one that respects the authenticity of the dish. That’s a fancy way of covering my arse. If you know something I have missed, let me know. But I will say this: cook it as per the recipe above and you’ll love it.

Go forth and eat,

Andy

 

 

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