Australian Food: Come on Aussie!

Having ventured to the Great Southern Land, Gentle Reader, I was looking forward with considerable relish (no pun intended) to a veritable feast of fine food. And I'm desperately disappointed.

In Dominic's recent post about a certain restaurant in Canberra, he lamented at the poor quality of the offering. Your Humble Correspondent would feign call him mistaken, were it at all possible.

I must say that, like the United States, Australia boasts magnificent produce. Whether shopping for my humble home or considering what was on offer at the various eating establishments I have visited with the Child Bride, I have no doubt that the ingredients are of the highest quality. Magnificent seafood, extraordinary cuts of meat and poultry, superb vegetables, and some of the best delicatessens I have ever experienced. There is a passion for the providore that thrills me to the core. So what, I wonder, is the issue?

In your Humble Correspondent's opinion, the problem happens once the produce gets to the kitchen. Too many cooks spoiling broths, and not enough chefs focused on what hits the plate. Over-cooking such as Dominic suffered, or under-cooking like I experienced recently when the filling for a steak-and-kidney pastry was barely tepid, is a solid indication that some-one at the kitchen door is not paying attention. Wait staff make the simplest mistakes, and seem driven to have the diners in and out quickly. A cross-eyed view to the top-line, rather than customer satisfaction and growing a crowd of "regulars".

Perhaps we are all a little spoiled in Tokyo, but there where livelihoods are on the line chefs go that little further to make sure customers are delighted. Here in the Antipodes, it seems that people have jobs rather than passions and the competition is for employees rather than learning opportunities. It's almost as if the roles are reversed between kitchen and floor, and between diners and eateries. For goodness' sake, food is not fuel and dining excellence is not measured with a stopwatch.

It is all a rather large pity - the venues and locations are splendid and the ingredients (as noted) real quality. Why, oh why, don't people apply that finishing touch of the entertainment inherent in food? If all the world's a stage, where are the players?

Top Food Blogs?

Christopher claims to be my friend. Note the "claims". Yet he has managed to cut me to the quick, wound my already damaged pride, and set the bar for success at an impossibly high level. How? By reminding me of my insignificance and pallor.

Now that he's moved on to academia - not just any ivory tower, but Tokyo University - he seems to be focused on deep and meaningful research. He took the trouble to forward me an article from some unknown journal that purports to be a listing of the world's best food blogs. Oh the shame! Oh perfidy! What craven scribe could ever compile said list without including Jon, Dominic, or your Humble Correspondent? Here's the list:

1. Mexico Cooks!
2. Eating Asia
3. Silverbrow on Food
4. Grab your fork
5. Chocolate and Zucchini
6. Wine Anorak
7. The Boy Done Food
8. Refined Palate
9. Cheese and Biscuits
10. Eat like a Girl

Actually, some of these are pretty good. A bit British, what-ho, but a solid effort. I would add: The Amateur Gourmet; David Lebovitz; Chez Pim; Michael Laiskonis.

And if you're getting a little "over-the-top" about this whole food blogging thing like some-one I know, see the Foodblog Blog. What's even more embarrassing is that none of the Three Musketeers is listed there either... how demeaning!

Yule be wondering ...

Regular Gentle Readers will be wondering what befell your Humble Correspondent. Unlike the effervescent Jon (Blog link here!) , travel to the wilds of Akita was not on the menu this year. Instead, I chose a much more sedate and familiar destination - Brisbane, Australia. While not yet feted as the point of origin for your Humble Correspondent, the City and I look forward to that happy day when foodies all over the world flock to its fair shores for ... um, food!

The point of my antipodean journey with the Child Bride and The Princess was of course to visit my ragged but treasured collection of parents, siblings, children, children-in-law, children-in-law-in-waiting, and grand-babies for a cacophonous convocation at Christmas. A bit of a tradition, you see, which your aging diarist both enjoys and quietly propagates.

Some say, Gentle Reader, that I sometimes tend to go over the top with regard to food and gatherings. Tee-hee to them, and pshaw! Going over the top happens to be a part of my core skill set, and in my (feeble) mind a consummation devoutly to be wished. How could people be so cruel as to suggest that importing a hand-made creche and Nativity Scene from Oberammergau by way of the blithe and generous George was over the top? My intention is to buy a new figurine every year, adding it to the display for the grand-babies to enjoy. [BTW: the figurines are 12cm high, so you can imagine how much space it takes up!]
But the food! Everything is lovingly hand-made by your Humble Correspondent each year. This year, for 20 people! Each year we add something to the mix that might be thought by ne'er-do-wells as "over the top". The Child Bride has long forsaken trying to curb these culinary passions - a good thing too, as covering my ears and poking out my tongue was lately feeling a little childish.

Here's what I prepared (and feel free to contact me for recipes):

Smoked Salmon Pate

Smoked Trout, Chive, and Chervil Terrine

Pressed Duck with Red Wine Vinegar in Aspic

Honey Mustard Glazed Ham

Slow Roasted Pork with Apple Cider Stuffing

Roast Turkey with Sage and Onion Stuffing

Forcemeat Stuffing Balls Wrapped in Pancetta

Roast Herbed Potatoes, Pumpkin, and Kumara

Steamed fresh-picked beans and Asparagus

Cherry and Macadamia Praline Cheesecake

Brandy and Citrus Peel Truffles

Over the top? Never ... just wait for next year! I'm already in planning mode.

Bevitrice - Backstreet Beauty

Ebisu has a rich and fascinating history of fallen men and women, bewitched by Eros, Bacchus and formidable Ebisu himself. How fitting therefore, Gentle Reader, that your Humble Correspondent found himself wandering its back streets in search of Bevitrice.

How might it be possible that this comely and captivating destination has escaped my attention for the last 13 years? I am told by my betters that bevitrice is Italian for a "woman who drinks a lot". My choice of companion on this happy evening, alas, was neither female, Italian, nor a dipsomaniac. Truth to tell, he was English (promise you won't tell anyone!) - a lordling, and gentile. Of all the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune ... your suffering Explorer-Gallant had failed to even negotiate the first hurdle. Why couldn't I have found a fallen woman, or at least a flopsy?

We opened with an Anselmi Capitel Croce 2006 which is a splendid wine, and my first experience of Garganega done well outside of Soave. The Lordling and I decided to trust ourselves to the Prix-Fixe @ Y6,300, but negotiated some slight deviations off the carta.

The charming floor staff offered an Amuse of some home-smoked ham served over a nut mix. Immediately, the Lordling and I knew we were on to something here. Attention to detail, fine balance of flavors, elegant delivery, and a touch of innovation!

Chef followed up with a Tuscan white bean soup. Oh, ♪ Swing Low Sweet Chariot ♪ ... carry me away to Lucca. A hint of lardo. A dreamy, creamy consistency. Mouth-ready, not too hot and not too tepid. For our next course, I had chosenthe antipasta mista and the Lordling was gnawing on a fulsome house Foie gras terrine. Excellent, excellent! The wine was working its magic, and I was beginning to see the flopsiness inherent in my companion.

On to primi - I had chosen the Fettecinitti and he the Porcini Risotto, both of which were outstanding dishes. It was time for some Italian red: we chose Vino nobile di Montepulciano poliziano 2004 as our Elysian poison, and noble indeed it was - so when the Lordling's Beef Cheeks and my Tuscan pork found their way to the table for a brief stay as secondo, your Humble Correspondent found it difficult to choose. My simple solution: alternate mouthfuls of pork, and wine until the porcine perfection was gone and I had received more than my fair entitlement of the beverage.

We rounded out the me with some cheese for me (parmigiana, wash, amaretto) and Zuppa di Iglese for him [which he wittily described as very English and not very zuppa!]. Delightful!

Visit Bevitrice with hordes of dipsomaniacal flopsies, or with good friends - you won't be disappointed with either the food, the pleasant service, or the wine. And if you hear a quiet giggling coming from the cellar, throw me a bone!

Bevitrice: 1-16-29 Ebisu, Shibuya Ward, tel: (03) 3443-2313
Rating: Food: 8; Wine: 7; Service: 8; Ambiance: 8; Price: 7 ($). Total 38/50

Dame Jeanne - A la Campagne!

Sensitive to the criticism, Gentle Reader, of being too much focused on the gaijin ghettos of Tokyo it became obvious that exploration of deepest, darkest Edo might form the basis of some sort of sensible reply. When a group of my Japanese friends and former colleagues suggested a soiree celebrating Year-End, I saw the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Or in this case, one demijohn.

For indeed, demijohn comes from the medieval French "Dame Jeanne". How embarrassing - imagine a lady being remembered for all posterity as "large and squat, usually covered with wicker". A curmudgeonly comment from the gossips of some quaint Burgundy village, and one's cursed for life!

Maruyamacho, I will admit, is not so far from civilization that one needs to mount a full expedition complete with porters, elephants and tentage. But navigating the jungle of love hotels and restaurants that flourish in this lush and steamier side of Tokyo is a task that only an acknowledged jungle killer can accomplish.

Dame Jeanne is very reminiscent of a quaint Burgundian village - indeed, its proprietors had this very much in mind when they decided 6 months ago to open a tabac style restaurant to replicate the feeling of a village gathering place in the French countryside. And they have very much achieved this goal in this delightful addition to the Tokyo eating landscape.

Maruyamacho [actually, the cho piece means village in Japanese. Egads!] is a difficult area to explore, and Dame Jeanne can be hard to find with only a very small sign and a demure entrance. Your Humble Correspondent happened on it only after bringing to bear years of experience as a professional Explorer-Gallant. Others less accomplished might aim for the Lawsons on the western side of Shinsen station on the Inokashira line. Dame Jeanne is one door closer to the station.

We shared Rillette de Lapin (bravo, Chef!), Liver Pate, Potatoes Dauphinoise (magnifique!), Shellfish in White Wine, a wonderful pork offal sausage, roast venison, and a delicious cassoulet that set new standards for expeditionary fare. Praise the Lord and pass the gibier [game] and l'abats [offal]!

The wine list is complete and reasonably priced (Dom 1999 at Y21,000?) and the service superb. One can expect to pay around Y5000 for food - a pleasant relief after the outrageous prices charged closer to the palace.

Dame Jeanne: 23-4 Maruyamacho, Shibuya Ward, tel: (03) 3496-2755

Rating: Food: 7; Wine: 7; Service: 7; Ambiance: 7; Price: 7 ($). Total 35/50