The Crikey culture blog

Category Archives: food

My Kitchen Drools

Surfing across My Kitchen Rules I’m often transfixed. Unreality TV This is Unreality TV delivered with frank efficiency. The post-event filmed asides from teammates — It all depended on the pigeon breast; and it wasn’t cooked! — then anachronistically slotted back into the cooking sequence; the cliffhangers — ad break before verdict — are handled [...]

Paris: classique meals 1

Observations and not some haiku from the streets of Paris Classique, adjectif Sens 1, Qui fait autorité, qui est considéré comme un modèle. Anglais (auteur) classical author, (oeuvre) classic. 5.1 Steak-frites According to Anthony Bourdain: “It was onglet, and I was immediately struck by its ropy, not-too-tender but not-too-tough texture and its strong, almost kidneyish flavor.” [...]

Paris: appetiser, l’amuse bouche

Just a teaser for upcoming food posts. So many unnecessary calories, so little time. This is totally froggy boeuf bourguignon. (But not as Julia Child has recipe’d it; at least it never turned out like this.) It was ace.

“Which movie was that?”

We were having breakfast-coffee and there was a lot of bee talk — did you know that when it gets really hot a bunch of bees (workers/females directed by drones/males) whiz off to collect water which they place as micro-droplets in various of the comb cavities, and then back off to beat their wings madly [...]

Food (Elements of Roman Style: III)

And so to table. One thing I recalled from our last visit to Italy was the restraint shown with alcohol. You seldom saw a local have more than a glass or maybe two at dinner. Very civilised. This despite the vino de casa usually being light and easy. But today we are here for the [...]

Gelato (Elements of Roman Style: II)

Dear Sophie, well yes we have been taking daily doses of gelato, which as you know, is Italian for yoga. It seems to help with digestion. The place for gelati is Giolitti on Via Uffici del Vicario; and there is a laughable video of me and Constant Gardener gorging on cones, but no, no chance. [...]

Breakfast with a cop

What does a cop eat for breakfast? Vanilla rice porridge with poached quince, followed with a double-shot macchiato, chased by a single macchiato. Hard-core but nice, and now he can keep affording it. What baby cops break their fast on, I dunno — MuckMuffins? Our good cop is an older fella, into his 60s, street [...]

48 hours in Sydney (The great White Rabbit art experience)

We flew Tiger to Sydney, Qantas being in a state. It was a Constant Gardener idea to cheer us up: the last few weeks have been a very sad farewell to a friend who passed away (When did Australians begin referring to it as “passing”? Is death an American inflected experience now?). Friday night: It’s [...]

Letters from Hanoi: for pho’s sake

Dear D_, Travel is literally dislocating and, I find, often dashed uncomfortable. Mother, for instance, finds it hard work to sleep in hotel beds. Our friend B_  packs her pillow. And one acquaintance carries dried food as a fallback on days of especial internal delicacy. On a clear day you can see pho-ever But benign [...]

Reckless Asparagus

When asparagus rhymes with reckless: Late August, the moody swings of Spring in the deep south-east. As the seasons’ pendulum swings, it also brings . . . asparagus. I feel a little stab of pleasure to find them at the greengrocer, tied in their quivers. Seared/pan-fried in olive oil, generously seasoned, with a spritz of [...]