Christmas wishes

Nice way to start a trip

Bushwhacked!

Check out what we've done for US President George Bush's visit to Sydney next week for the APEC summit: you can give him an Australian makeover.


All part of the cool APEC multimedia we've put together for the Sydney Morning Herald.

I love Sundays

From the 'I've been telling you this for years" file

From the New York Times: "Without the bitterness produced by hot water, cold-brewed coffee [has] hints of chocolate, even caramel. I dropped my sugar packet — no need for it. The best brews hardly need cream." About twice a week I grind up some beans to make a few days' supply in my Bodum french press. The first day I add a dash of hot water from the kettle and top the plunger up with ice cubes. The flavours develop as it sits in the fridge (a rich coffee taste with no bitterness) and the knowledge that there's always a chilled coffee ready helps get me out of bed. I drink it even in winter. The only drawback is it spoils you: espresso bar coffees at work just don't satisfy and you quickly lose your appreciation for heated milk.

Try it -- you'll thank me!

What we did yesterday

How the opposition reported it: Fairfax managers run gauntlet of strikers.

Lex in Sydney

Spent a quick hour over lunch today with Lex, which only reminded me how much I miss having her around. The clever cookie has just jetted back from NYC to spend 10 days at Varuna to workshop her upcoming novel with editors from HarperCollins. If one of the definitions of happiness is knowing what you want to do and being damn good at doing it, then she's one happy lassie. Lex is a superachiever alright, and although I always feel inadequate around her (I'm not so definite about what I want to do when I grow up) she's also inspirational. Nowadays she has to inspire me from afar.

Being a Muslim

Here's a preview of my latest project, you lucky devils. Going live tonight as part of a five-day series running in the Sydney Morning Herald titled "Islam in Australia". I was lucky enough to interview four terrific Muslims about their faith, and the misconceptions people have about their community. Here's hoping it goes some way towards building tolerance and harmony.

See the multimedia here.

Poker night

(Gerard's in his Michigan shirt...)

No Webby for us

... but we were made "official honorees", which is better than a poke in the eye.

Easter Saturday

We tried out this sensational new Thai restaurant called Big Prik Prod last night.



The chef is this guy called Murray Rivers and he produced some amazing treats out of his Carlton kitchen.

Tunes by Grand Funk Railroad (Homer Simpson's fave), Petula Clark, Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass band and the unforgettable Leonard Nimoy and William Shatner got us all up and grooving before the food even hit the table.

Dance moves were helped along by a few glasses of what Murray calls "polio vaccine" - a very moorish drink made from rosé wine, cointreau, and ginger cordial. Here's the bartender mixing up a lethal dose.



The meal was served "family style" in large dishes in the middle of the communal table. And by table, I mean the singular. There's only one in the room! We started off with ma hor, also known as "galloping horses" (although we were assured there was no horsemeat involved. A yummy palate-teaser of caramelised pork and chicken on top of pineapple chunks.



Next came the delicious fish ball curry with holy basil. But Gerard felt sorry for the fish who had to go without their balls so that we could have an Easter feast.



It was smiles all around when dessert of custard dribbled with cassis and King Island cream arrived.


We'll definitely return to Big Prik Prod. If they'll have us.

The First Wave: Beyond a White Australia

My latest project, about Australian immigration history, went live on Friday night. The museum, immigration and local history sets all love it, and the national multicultural broadcaster SBS produced a story on it as well. I just wish we could have secured the rights to run 20 seconds of an incendiary newsreel of the SS Misr's arrival (which berated the government for accepting displaced persons from Greece, Italy, Malta and central Europe who weren't "of our own stock"). But I'm happy it's done - now I can catch up on my sleep :-).


And socialising too - like this degustation dinner we're going to on Sunday night at Three Clicks West. They had me at "Terrine of roast peppers and potato with goats’ cheese mousse and toasted brioche". Or the "Baked cauliflower custard with mustard pickled vegetables, cauliflower tempura and Gruyere beignet". Or the "Pressed mushroom and potato pave with wild mushroom ragout, bread sauce,
crispy leeks and braised kohlrabi". Autumn's the most rewarding time for gustatory pleasures!

Birthday weekend

And a pretty perfect one too. Started off Saturday with an early ocean swim at Bronte before the crowds arrived; the water a translucent aqua and as fizzy as champagne. Breakfasted on Eggs Benedict facing the beach at the good-looking Swell Bar while flicking through upmarket travel magazines, then took a 2-hour mysore class (and got into my first Bhujapidasana since returning from Ann Arbor!). Had time for a quick nap before Gerard took me to Claude's for the most sublime dining experience I can remember.


Being a Saturday night the tasting menu was compulsory, and we opted for the wine flight to maximise the experience. The whole event lasted four hours, although there was no sensation of time passing at any stage of the night. We felt cosseted and pampered throughout, with the unexpected amusement from eavesdropping on the Tory couple beside us and their pompous pronouncements on "raging socialists" and the shortfalls of The Sydney Morning Herald. Quote of the night? "Here's the thing boys, nobody gets paid in Australian dollars". But I digress: back to the food, which we enjoyed beneath the wall-mounted Limoges porcelain (soup tureen, egg cups and all), featuring Napoleon's crest.

Appetisers were balls of choux pastry filled with truffled hare rillette, and were gobbled pretty quickly with the sparkling water. The first wine of the night arrived as we dabbed cultured butter onto the small dinner rolls: a 2004 Rieflé Côte de Rouffach from Alsace. It was served cool, rather than cold, and tasted sweeter and pleasantly "mouldier" than any Australian riesling. A bit of toasty character came out of the glass when the elegant smoked salmon consommé arrived in little espresso cups, a clear, silky liquid with a bit of creamy foam. But it was the second dish, the abalone & tomato en cocotte, which brought out all of the acid in the wine. It loved the buttery abalone juices pooled in the lidded cooking dish and the roasted ripe sweetness of the tomato flesh.

The next glass to come out was a 2004 Moreau-Naudet Chablis 1er Cru 'Fôrets', served colder than the riesling and beautifully flinty. A bit of buttery flavours came up with the grilled freshwater Kangaroo Island marron with scallops and bechamel. I'm a sucker for a Chablis - it makes such a nice change to the Australian chardonnays. Full-flavoured, and cleared the palate for what came next.

I've been wanting to try a Bandol rosé for quite a while, and was surprised to see how very pale the 2005 Domaine du Gros'Noré was. A watery copper colour. Nicely savoury blend grenache, cinsault and mourvedre. Gerard says it reminded him of a Rolf Binder rosé. I thought it tasted like a rose petal. Was matched with an incredible dish of ocean trout cooked over cardamom leaf - a slab of richly dense flesh thanks to smoking over cardamom and then slowly oven-roasted so as not to add any colour. Had retained its oils in the process, contributing to the opulent flavour. A real hit.

Gerard was pretty excited by the next wine to arrive at the table: a 2001 Château Laulerie Bergerac. "Now, this is my kind of wine" he said, his eyes shining and his nose sinking into the deep glass. 80% of poor, maligned merlot and 20% cabernet, smelling of pepper and tasting of chocolate. Was gentle enough to accompany the breast of duck, crisped zucchini blossom & runner bean - very pink, very tender, with its strip of white fat intact - although the flavour of the wine began to dissipate by the end of the glass.

Then the Gigondas arrived: a 2003 Domaine Santa Duc. Gerard hurriedly claimed this one as his favourite wine of the night. I guess he's a shiraz boy after all. Blackberry, velvet and violets. Big wow. Brought the big biodynamic Castagna wines to mind. Teamed with a fillet of aged angus which was rolled around strips of cucumber and foie gras, with a puree of potato, cauliflower and horseradish spooned from small copper saucepans. By now we'd submitted ourselves entirely to the process and were in ecstasy. The adjacent couple had become a bit louder and we were sneaking more glances at them. The table on the other side of us had also loosened up a little - two amiable couples in their 60s who had been waiting outside with us while we rang the doorbell - and had the happy glow only an evening of good wines and excellent food could bring.

There was a sorbet of pink grapefruit and gin, before it happened. The tears. Yes, the soufflé of blood plum was so startling, I teared up. I hadn't been aware until now that food could be so remarkable. I was not prepared for the effect of its texture on my tongue, or its delicate taste. It looked so perfect billowing over the copper pot it was almost a shame when the waiter made us break open the surface so he could pour in the brandy cream (he left behind the jug "just in case"). I was utterly overwhelmed. Thankfully we had a glass of pale and viscous 2003 Avarus Muscat de Frontignan to ease the pain once it was gone.

After a final plate of chocolate-filled chewy macaroons the awesome meal was over, but it left behind some very potent flavour memories.


And incredibly, Sunday managed to live up to it when Sandra took me to the day spa at the Observatory Hotel (swanning around by the pool in robes sipping herbal tea, then off to a massage in a candle-lit room) and then their high tea with a glass of rosé Moet. I was spoiled rotten.