After spending hours researching the favourite foods of our world leaders, it seems that the most detailed information out there is that George Bush loves something called a ‘cheeseburger pizza’, Kim Beazley chooses Weetbix over everything else, and John Howard likes curries, but ‘only if they’re not too spicy’. Further afield, both the Japanese PM and Russian leader love ice-cream. So, as should be done with all food related matters, I’m keeping it simple and local...presenting our very own Prime Ministers special chocolate cake recipe, which incidentally he got from his mum. Awww.
Kevin Rudd's Family Chocolate Cake Recipe
Ingredients
• 185g butter at room temperature
• 155g brown sugar
• one tsp vanilla essence
• two eggs at room temperature
• 190g self-raising flour
• 30g cocoa powder
• 125ml milk
Method
1. Cream butter, sugar and vanilla, add eggs one at a time. In another bowl sift the flour and cocoa together, then fold it and the milk, alternating, into the creamed butter and sugar.
2. Bake for 40 minutes in a moderate oven fan forced about 150 degrees.
3. Icing
4. One-and-a-half tablespoons cocoa, 1 tablespoon warm milk, 75g butter (room temperature) cubed, 125g pure icing sugar, half teaspoon vanilla.
Wednesday, 20 August 2008
Thursday, 31 July 2008
a two minute chat about instant noodles
They’ve been your comfort food, your midnight snack, your study nosh and your drunken feast. They saved you from starvation in foreign countries when you couldn’t recognise - or afford - anything else.
Everyone has their favourite brand, their favourite flavour. Chicken or Beef? Maggi or Mi Goreng? Microwave or boil? And most importantly, to drain or not to drain?
Choices aside, this iconic student food has done more than just tide you over till pay day. 100 million packets of them were sent as humanitarian aid during crises in North Korea, India and Russia. Fortified with additional vitamins and minerals, they provided a calorie dense, non perishable food source for thousands of refugees and people who had lost their homes.
In Thailand, instant noodles were used as an economic indicator during the East Asia Financial Crisis. Mama brand instant noodles were able to demonstrate through their increased sales that people could no longer afford to buy more expensive foods, and were turning to cheaper alternatives.
The BBC last year reported that the Chinese Communist Party had ‘slammed’ instant noodle producers after accusing them of contributing to inflation by illegally colluding to raise prices by up to 40%. The three producers were found to have met three times to fix prices, which the government said ‘damaged social stability’.
In a country which consumes 44 billion packets of them, more than half of the yearly total consumption of noodles, it’s a feasible claim. If only the ACCC would admit that Kevin Rudd has done the same by raising the price of RTD’s.
With over 85 billion servings of instant noodles now eaten worldwide every year, it is hard to believe that the Japanese food industry considered instant noodles to be a novelty when a Japanese company called Nissan Foods first launched them in the marketplace in 1958.
Forty-two years later, in 2000, instant noodles were voted as the most important Japanese invention of the century, in front of kareoke (2nd place) and CD’s (5th place). Momofuko Ando, the Taiwanese inventor employed by Nissan, also invented cup noodles, which are most popular in the UK sold under the name ‘Pot Noodle’.
Before being voted the most hated brand in the UK in 2004, Pot Noodle made headlines in 2002 by producing a limited edition ‘Edwina Curry’ flavour, after a female politician of the same name revealed she had a four year affair with former UK Prime Minister John Major. The company is renowned for their tongue in cheek advertisements, one of which, with the tagline “Have you got the Pot Noodle horn?” received 572 complaints. An earlier campaign which titled Pot Noodles ‘the slag of all snacks’ was banned.
So what makes instant noodles so popular? Undoubtedly it has a lot to do with the low cost, ease of preparation, and versatility of the product. Almost any flavour can be added to instant noodles, which have branched out from traditional varieties like chicken, nori and satay to more creative varieties like pizza, cheese, sausage roll and turkey and stuffing for the festive season.
In countries as diverse as Nigeria, Peru, Russia and Saudi Arabia the popularity of instant noodles is rising, and have been adapted into regional variations, suited to the local economy and environments. In the Philippines, instant noodles are often eaten for breakfast, served with garlic rice and dried fish. In Mexico, where a common name for instant noodles is ‘lazy soup’, chilli and lime is added.
In Australia, instant noodles have a reputation as a student food, a junk food and often nutritionally void. One packet supplies almost half of the average person’s daily recommended intake of salt, along with a quarter of the daily recommended intake of fat, but negligible contributions to essential vitamins and other minerals.
With these dietary credentials, it’s unsurprising that school tuckshops have replaced instant noodles with healthier alternatives. However, their ubiquity in supermarkets, Asian grocers, petrol stations and student accommodation indicate a continuing appreciation for instant noodles in Australia – backed up by all those packets in your bin.
inside your noodles : the instant noodle vox pop
Dave Gilbert pre-flavours and microwaves his noodles, which are preferably what he describes as a tasty Maggi Chicken flavour.
Meredith Gee swings between Mi Goreng and Maggi and has different cooking methods for each. She calls Mi Goren ‘ugly noodles’ on account of the egg pictured on the packet.
Alice Campbell is also a Mi Goreng fan, but in the past has admitted a fetish for adding curry powder or cream to Maggi noodles.
Demi Pnevmatikos eats her noodles out of a cup with what she calls a ‘splade’. We think she means ‘spork’.
Chris Luong thinks Fantastic noodles are, well, fantastic, especially in Pizza flavour, and likes to add leftovers to make them a bit more exciting.
Tyson Shine will only eat the soup of his noodles ‘if it involves home brand shredded cheese... oh yeah baby!’. He also likes to ‘leave them long so i can put it in my mouth and swallow about 90 per cent of the noodle before i pull it back up my throat and drop in my sisters bowl so i get hers too’. Sick.
Scott Cowen buys 5 packs of Home Brand instant noodles which have no individual packaging, thereby saving the environment.
Andrew Love is a fan of the noodle bowl style noodles and thinks Maggi have nothing on Asian brands with their little packets of sauces, powders, oils and vegies. Spicy Beef is his flavour of choice and he likes to stick with the instant theme of the noodles by adding things like frozen peas, chilli sauce and peanuts that you don’t have to fuck about with too much.
Danna Cooke would really prefer that none of us ate instant noodles because they are made with palm oil, the production of which she says is going to cause the extinction of orang-utans in the wild within 10 years. She says she can no longer eat instant noodles because after her daughter alerted to this fact all she can taste is orang-utan.
John Fulbrook remembers when No Frills brand instant noodles were 17 cents a pack and recommends eating all the raw bits that come off the main clump.
Claire Knight keeps a stash of instant noodles in her pigeonhole at Radio Adelaide and suggests adding steamed carrots, zucchini, brocolli or capsicum along with a little soy sauce.
Emma Durdin’s favourite instant noodle recipe involves sweet chilli sauce and grated cheese and apparently tastes best at midnight. She made her boyfriend type the recipe out at length on Facebook, only to have me edit it down to this. Sorry.
Jonathan Brown eats his noodles raw after adding the flavour to the packet and shakin’ it round a bit (maybe that’s where Claire’s supplies have been disappearing to!)
Cass Selwood thinks one should never microwave their noodles and is a strict boiler. He prefers Ayam plain noodles but adds all sorts of exciting things like garlic, ginger and chilli along with mushrooms, tuna, soy, coriander and oyster sauce.
Leah Marrone says that she wasn’t allowed instant noodles because her parents didn’t think they were real food, and still thinks there is no excuse not to eat real pasta now either. She says if you want some recipes for cheap easy food so you don’t have to stoop to the level of instant noodles to email her.
Everyone has their favourite brand, their favourite flavour. Chicken or Beef? Maggi or Mi Goreng? Microwave or boil? And most importantly, to drain or not to drain?
Choices aside, this iconic student food has done more than just tide you over till pay day. 100 million packets of them were sent as humanitarian aid during crises in North Korea, India and Russia. Fortified with additional vitamins and minerals, they provided a calorie dense, non perishable food source for thousands of refugees and people who had lost their homes.
In Thailand, instant noodles were used as an economic indicator during the East Asia Financial Crisis. Mama brand instant noodles were able to demonstrate through their increased sales that people could no longer afford to buy more expensive foods, and were turning to cheaper alternatives.
The BBC last year reported that the Chinese Communist Party had ‘slammed’ instant noodle producers after accusing them of contributing to inflation by illegally colluding to raise prices by up to 40%. The three producers were found to have met three times to fix prices, which the government said ‘damaged social stability’.
In a country which consumes 44 billion packets of them, more than half of the yearly total consumption of noodles, it’s a feasible claim. If only the ACCC would admit that Kevin Rudd has done the same by raising the price of RTD’s.
With over 85 billion servings of instant noodles now eaten worldwide every year, it is hard to believe that the Japanese food industry considered instant noodles to be a novelty when a Japanese company called Nissan Foods first launched them in the marketplace in 1958.
Forty-two years later, in 2000, instant noodles were voted as the most important Japanese invention of the century, in front of kareoke (2nd place) and CD’s (5th place). Momofuko Ando, the Taiwanese inventor employed by Nissan, also invented cup noodles, which are most popular in the UK sold under the name ‘Pot Noodle’.
Before being voted the most hated brand in the UK in 2004, Pot Noodle made headlines in 2002 by producing a limited edition ‘Edwina Curry’ flavour, after a female politician of the same name revealed she had a four year affair with former UK Prime Minister John Major. The company is renowned for their tongue in cheek advertisements, one of which, with the tagline “Have you got the Pot Noodle horn?” received 572 complaints. An earlier campaign which titled Pot Noodles ‘the slag of all snacks’ was banned.
So what makes instant noodles so popular? Undoubtedly it has a lot to do with the low cost, ease of preparation, and versatility of the product. Almost any flavour can be added to instant noodles, which have branched out from traditional varieties like chicken, nori and satay to more creative varieties like pizza, cheese, sausage roll and turkey and stuffing for the festive season.
In countries as diverse as Nigeria, Peru, Russia and Saudi Arabia the popularity of instant noodles is rising, and have been adapted into regional variations, suited to the local economy and environments. In the Philippines, instant noodles are often eaten for breakfast, served with garlic rice and dried fish. In Mexico, where a common name for instant noodles is ‘lazy soup’, chilli and lime is added.
In Australia, instant noodles have a reputation as a student food, a junk food and often nutritionally void. One packet supplies almost half of the average person’s daily recommended intake of salt, along with a quarter of the daily recommended intake of fat, but negligible contributions to essential vitamins and other minerals.
With these dietary credentials, it’s unsurprising that school tuckshops have replaced instant noodles with healthier alternatives. However, their ubiquity in supermarkets, Asian grocers, petrol stations and student accommodation indicate a continuing appreciation for instant noodles in Australia – backed up by all those packets in your bin.
inside your noodles : the instant noodle vox pop
Dave Gilbert pre-flavours and microwaves his noodles, which are preferably what he describes as a tasty Maggi Chicken flavour.
Meredith Gee swings between Mi Goreng and Maggi and has different cooking methods for each. She calls Mi Goren ‘ugly noodles’ on account of the egg pictured on the packet.
Alice Campbell is also a Mi Goreng fan, but in the past has admitted a fetish for adding curry powder or cream to Maggi noodles.
Demi Pnevmatikos eats her noodles out of a cup with what she calls a ‘splade’. We think she means ‘spork’.
Chris Luong thinks Fantastic noodles are, well, fantastic, especially in Pizza flavour, and likes to add leftovers to make them a bit more exciting.
Tyson Shine will only eat the soup of his noodles ‘if it involves home brand shredded cheese... oh yeah baby!’. He also likes to ‘leave them long so i can put it in my mouth and swallow about 90 per cent of the noodle before i pull it back up my throat and drop in my sisters bowl so i get hers too’. Sick.
Scott Cowen buys 5 packs of Home Brand instant noodles which have no individual packaging, thereby saving the environment.
Andrew Love is a fan of the noodle bowl style noodles and thinks Maggi have nothing on Asian brands with their little packets of sauces, powders, oils and vegies. Spicy Beef is his flavour of choice and he likes to stick with the instant theme of the noodles by adding things like frozen peas, chilli sauce and peanuts that you don’t have to fuck about with too much.
Danna Cooke would really prefer that none of us ate instant noodles because they are made with palm oil, the production of which she says is going to cause the extinction of orang-utans in the wild within 10 years. She says she can no longer eat instant noodles because after her daughter alerted to this fact all she can taste is orang-utan.
John Fulbrook remembers when No Frills brand instant noodles were 17 cents a pack and recommends eating all the raw bits that come off the main clump.
Claire Knight keeps a stash of instant noodles in her pigeonhole at Radio Adelaide and suggests adding steamed carrots, zucchini, brocolli or capsicum along with a little soy sauce.
Emma Durdin’s favourite instant noodle recipe involves sweet chilli sauce and grated cheese and apparently tastes best at midnight. She made her boyfriend type the recipe out at length on Facebook, only to have me edit it down to this. Sorry.
Jonathan Brown eats his noodles raw after adding the flavour to the packet and shakin’ it round a bit (maybe that’s where Claire’s supplies have been disappearing to!)
Cass Selwood thinks one should never microwave their noodles and is a strict boiler. He prefers Ayam plain noodles but adds all sorts of exciting things like garlic, ginger and chilli along with mushrooms, tuna, soy, coriander and oyster sauce.
Leah Marrone says that she wasn’t allowed instant noodles because her parents didn’t think they were real food, and still thinks there is no excuse not to eat real pasta now either. She says if you want some recipes for cheap easy food so you don’t have to stoop to the level of instant noodles to email her.
Wednesday, 2 July 2008
the case for filtered coffee
Ever been to a coffee shop and ordered your usual flat white, only to have your coffee companion reel off the most detailed, rigorous set of specifications for their cup? Milk type, temperature, caffeine content, height, weight, horoscope - a seemingly endless list of variables which would have any scientist in a spin. (Maybe that's why my sister doesn't drink coffee).
During uni a good friend of mine (you know who you are) worked for an upmarket coffee chain and became very discerning about the quality of coffee which he consumed. Outside of the store he worked in, any supplier to his caffeine levels would come under intense scrutiny as to the construction, temperature and appearance of his soy lattes.
My brief stint on hospitality (which lasted exactly until the moment I realized management were falsifying wage records in order to underpay us) provided more insight into the coffee snobbery which we seem to have developed. Many of the customers requested macchiatos, decaf skim cappuccinos (hint - skim milk rarely actually exists in hospitality... think about that) an extra strong double shot of espresso with a jug of warm soy on the side... christ, when did coffee get so complicated?
Espresso coffee, is, by its nature, conducive to such an array of variations. A few teaspoons of bitter black liquid is sure to have many a caffeine addict running for the milk jug and sugar bowl. But does it need to be this way? Should hospitality staff be subject to the whims of an indecisive, discerning public with their infinite variations of froth consistency?
Absolutely not. And the answer, my friend, lies in filter coffee. But first, a little story.
I was in London on the tail end of a European trip when, wandering around the famous Borough Market near London Bridge (which turned out to be nothing compared to our Central Market) we happened upon a warehouse which, with the addition of a few chunky pieces of funiture, a counter and a spiral staircase leading up to the 'office', suspended near the ceiling, had become a coffee house.
The Monmouth Coffee Company, which has three sites around London, specializes in single estate coffees, which they roast themselves in London. In their Borough Market store, where we whiled away a rainy afternoon waiting for a family friend to turn up, we whiled away an afternoon drinking cup after cup of the splendid stuff.
No doubt it had something to do with the quality of the coffee, but more exciting - and unique - was that instead of using a machine, they had simply set up a row of single cup, cone shaped porcelain filters (the kind that fit over the top of a cup) to which they added the coffee and poured the hot water through, producing the most pure and fresh coffee you could imagine.
A small table to the side of the counter provided raw sugar and warm milk for those who required such additions. Little platforms around the edge of the warehouse looked over a huge communal wooden table, which was spread with a tempting platter of fresh baguettes, butter and jam, which you could help yourself to.
The coffee was incredible. Now, at home, I have ditched the so called convenience of the coffee machine and dug out an old plastic cone filter from the back of my pantry. It takes me less than two minutes to boil the kettle, grind a big spoon of coffee beans up and whack a paper filter in. The coffee is incredible, lacks the bitter flavour my machine produces, is hot, perfectly measured, and bloody amazing.
So why is it that Adelaide has been overrun by espresso machines at the expense of filter coffee? I could hazard a guess and say that it's just what has become trendy over the years, or that the system is more lucrative for the coffee companies (as espresso machines are supplied along with the coffee by many companies) but I don't really know why filter coffee is so rare in Adelaide. But there IS one company which, through the years, has provided filter coffee – and until recently, only filter coffee – to its customers.
Even more impressively, has just announced that it will use solely Rainforest Alliance certified coffee, which is environmentally sustainable and gives a fair price to farmers. This is a hugely significant step in Australia, where large coffee companies are more renowned for their links to fundamentalist Christian groups than protecting the environment and supporting fair trade. Hopefully, their investment will pay off big time, both in terms of revenue, which will reinforce the change, and in awareness on the part of consumers who will demand sustainable and fair trade products across the board.
But I digress. A month after conducting my initial investigations into the case for filter coffee, I remain committed to it on the grounds of sheer convenience, aroma, flavour and, as has recently occurred to me, calorific value. Espresso coffee is comprised of about one tablespoon (20mL) of coffee to as much as ten times that (200mL) in a standard cup. Filter coffee is pretty much the exact opposite, using much more water than milk to achieve the same overall volume. And in our rapidly expanding communities, who wants to be wasting precious calories on an inferior cup of coffee?
My closing statement on the matter is that filter coffee is, in general, going to be cheaper (a plastic filter cone will cost you $2-4 while an espresso machines from $150-$2000), more flavourful (and it is impossible to ‘burn’ the coffee, and better for you. However, for now, it seems that filter coffee will continue to be relegated to home settings and the types who frequent the Golden Arches.
Unless filter coffee regains trendiness in the community at large, it is unlikely to elbow espresso machines from their polished perches in every restaurant. So that’s why I’m calling on you to get the word out on the streets of Adelaide. Ask for filter coffee at your local cafe. Demand it in restaurants. Buy it at McDonalds. Yes, really. Together, we can bring back filter coffee.
During uni a good friend of mine (you know who you are) worked for an upmarket coffee chain and became very discerning about the quality of coffee which he consumed. Outside of the store he worked in, any supplier to his caffeine levels would come under intense scrutiny as to the construction, temperature and appearance of his soy lattes.
My brief stint on hospitality (which lasted exactly until the moment I realized management were falsifying wage records in order to underpay us) provided more insight into the coffee snobbery which we seem to have developed. Many of the customers requested macchiatos, decaf skim cappuccinos (hint - skim milk rarely actually exists in hospitality... think about that) an extra strong double shot of espresso with a jug of warm soy on the side... christ, when did coffee get so complicated?
Espresso coffee, is, by its nature, conducive to such an array of variations. A few teaspoons of bitter black liquid is sure to have many a caffeine addict running for the milk jug and sugar bowl. But does it need to be this way? Should hospitality staff be subject to the whims of an indecisive, discerning public with their infinite variations of froth consistency?
Absolutely not. And the answer, my friend, lies in filter coffee. But first, a little story.
I was in London on the tail end of a European trip when, wandering around the famous Borough Market near London Bridge (which turned out to be nothing compared to our Central Market) we happened upon a warehouse which, with the addition of a few chunky pieces of funiture, a counter and a spiral staircase leading up to the 'office', suspended near the ceiling, had become a coffee house.
The Monmouth Coffee Company, which has three sites around London, specializes in single estate coffees, which they roast themselves in London. In their Borough Market store, where we whiled away a rainy afternoon waiting for a family friend to turn up, we whiled away an afternoon drinking cup after cup of the splendid stuff.
No doubt it had something to do with the quality of the coffee, but more exciting - and unique - was that instead of using a machine, they had simply set up a row of single cup, cone shaped porcelain filters (the kind that fit over the top of a cup) to which they added the coffee and poured the hot water through, producing the most pure and fresh coffee you could imagine.
A small table to the side of the counter provided raw sugar and warm milk for those who required such additions. Little platforms around the edge of the warehouse looked over a huge communal wooden table, which was spread with a tempting platter of fresh baguettes, butter and jam, which you could help yourself to.
The coffee was incredible. Now, at home, I have ditched the so called convenience of the coffee machine and dug out an old plastic cone filter from the back of my pantry. It takes me less than two minutes to boil the kettle, grind a big spoon of coffee beans up and whack a paper filter in. The coffee is incredible, lacks the bitter flavour my machine produces, is hot, perfectly measured, and bloody amazing.
So why is it that Adelaide has been overrun by espresso machines at the expense of filter coffee? I could hazard a guess and say that it's just what has become trendy over the years, or that the system is more lucrative for the coffee companies (as espresso machines are supplied along with the coffee by many companies) but I don't really know why filter coffee is so rare in Adelaide. But there IS one company which, through the years, has provided filter coffee – and until recently, only filter coffee – to its customers.
Even more impressively, has just announced that it will use solely Rainforest Alliance certified coffee, which is environmentally sustainable and gives a fair price to farmers. This is a hugely significant step in Australia, where large coffee companies are more renowned for their links to fundamentalist Christian groups than protecting the environment and supporting fair trade. Hopefully, their investment will pay off big time, both in terms of revenue, which will reinforce the change, and in awareness on the part of consumers who will demand sustainable and fair trade products across the board.
But I digress. A month after conducting my initial investigations into the case for filter coffee, I remain committed to it on the grounds of sheer convenience, aroma, flavour and, as has recently occurred to me, calorific value. Espresso coffee is comprised of about one tablespoon (20mL) of coffee to as much as ten times that (200mL) in a standard cup. Filter coffee is pretty much the exact opposite, using much more water than milk to achieve the same overall volume. And in our rapidly expanding communities, who wants to be wasting precious calories on an inferior cup of coffee?
My closing statement on the matter is that filter coffee is, in general, going to be cheaper (a plastic filter cone will cost you $2-4 while an espresso machines from $150-$2000), more flavourful (and it is impossible to ‘burn’ the coffee, and better for you. However, for now, it seems that filter coffee will continue to be relegated to home settings and the types who frequent the Golden Arches.
Unless filter coffee regains trendiness in the community at large, it is unlikely to elbow espresso machines from their polished perches in every restaurant. So that’s why I’m calling on you to get the word out on the streets of Adelaide. Ask for filter coffee at your local cafe. Demand it in restaurants. Buy it at McDonalds. Yes, really. Together, we can bring back filter coffee.
Monday, 16 June 2008
Thai'd Up
Regent Thai (O’Connell St, North Adelaide)
If you’re cashed up, this is the pick of the bunch for Thai restaurants in Adelaide. I hear the décor has been majorly overhauled recently into some sort of stainless steel wonderland, but as long as the food is the same you’re going to be in for a treat. Order a plate of the best pad thai in town or take some friends along and enjoy a whole steamed barramundi with spring onions and ginger. Their Mussaman Beef Curry is also a must.
Café Michael 2 (Rundle St, Adelaide)
My favourite Thai place in Adelaide’s CBD. I have begun many an enjoyable evening out on the town at this excellent restaurant which is right on Rundle St. If you’re on a tight budget follow my lead; order Tom Kha Gai soup (chicken and coconut soup) with a side of steamed rice ($8.90 and $2.00) and choose whether you want it mild, medium or hot. Be warned though, the chilli factor can differ significantly in dishes; I didn’t realize that the coconut milk in the Tom Kha Gai mellows the chilli so much until one night I ordered a medium level Tom Yum instead of the usual medium Tom Kha Gai. I nearly had to be rushed to the RAH choking and coughing by my amused dining companion. Quirky but attentive wait staff are very accommodating and helpful. Be warned though; the spring rolls are nothing to write home about, especially for $7.90.
Thai Gourmet (North East Road, Collinswood)
This tiny shop faces some heavy competition from Andy’s Yiros and the takeaway chicken shop which sandwich it at the Collinswood shopping centre. However, a few years after opening the takeaway, run by an Australian man and his Thai wife, is still turning out delicious spicy noodles and curries for the locals. Drop in on a Friday for freshly made cold rolls. Although they have a table or two inside, it’s really a takeaway with prices to match.
Tiger Lily Café (Melbourne St, North Adelaide)
Admittedly I’ve only ever ordered some takeaway pad thai from here, but I’ll be back because the minute I walked into this place the staff were on top of their game, having everything organized and waiting for me as promised in exactly the five minutes they said it would take. The atmosphere was really cosy with several young professional-type couples relaxing in their seats as they perused the menu. A good alternative if you’re sick of all the regular Melbourne St hotspots and can’t be arsed going into the city. There’s 10% if you get takeaway too.
Suree’s Thai Kicthen (Unley Road, Malvern)
I’m not sure if it was the rather attractive Thai man who served us, the food, or the attention to detail (like putting our takeaway order in a cardboard box to reduce risk of container explosion en route home) but they’re doing something right at Suree’s Thai Kitchen. You can eat in or takeaway at this medium sized restaurant which is almost too Thai for its own good with advertising for ‘discount massages’ by the door.
Lime and Lemon Thai Café (Gouger St, Adelaide)
I used to go here a bit, but the food’s on the average side and the service can be very patchy. For a restaurant which is a stone’s throw from Chinatown, this isn’t good news for the Lemon and Lime as punters including myself are likely just to head across the street and get a bowl of soup or noodles for half the price and at twice the speed from the hole-in-the-wall food stalls at the Central Market, where service is friendly, fast and no fuss.
If you’re cashed up, this is the pick of the bunch for Thai restaurants in Adelaide. I hear the décor has been majorly overhauled recently into some sort of stainless steel wonderland, but as long as the food is the same you’re going to be in for a treat. Order a plate of the best pad thai in town or take some friends along and enjoy a whole steamed barramundi with spring onions and ginger. Their Mussaman Beef Curry is also a must.
Café Michael 2 (Rundle St, Adelaide)
My favourite Thai place in Adelaide’s CBD. I have begun many an enjoyable evening out on the town at this excellent restaurant which is right on Rundle St. If you’re on a tight budget follow my lead; order Tom Kha Gai soup (chicken and coconut soup) with a side of steamed rice ($8.90 and $2.00) and choose whether you want it mild, medium or hot. Be warned though, the chilli factor can differ significantly in dishes; I didn’t realize that the coconut milk in the Tom Kha Gai mellows the chilli so much until one night I ordered a medium level Tom Yum instead of the usual medium Tom Kha Gai. I nearly had to be rushed to the RAH choking and coughing by my amused dining companion. Quirky but attentive wait staff are very accommodating and helpful. Be warned though; the spring rolls are nothing to write home about, especially for $7.90.
Thai Gourmet (North East Road, Collinswood)
This tiny shop faces some heavy competition from Andy’s Yiros and the takeaway chicken shop which sandwich it at the Collinswood shopping centre. However, a few years after opening the takeaway, run by an Australian man and his Thai wife, is still turning out delicious spicy noodles and curries for the locals. Drop in on a Friday for freshly made cold rolls. Although they have a table or two inside, it’s really a takeaway with prices to match.
Tiger Lily Café (Melbourne St, North Adelaide)
Admittedly I’ve only ever ordered some takeaway pad thai from here, but I’ll be back because the minute I walked into this place the staff were on top of their game, having everything organized and waiting for me as promised in exactly the five minutes they said it would take. The atmosphere was really cosy with several young professional-type couples relaxing in their seats as they perused the menu. A good alternative if you’re sick of all the regular Melbourne St hotspots and can’t be arsed going into the city. There’s 10% if you get takeaway too.
Suree’s Thai Kicthen (Unley Road, Malvern)
I’m not sure if it was the rather attractive Thai man who served us, the food, or the attention to detail (like putting our takeaway order in a cardboard box to reduce risk of container explosion en route home) but they’re doing something right at Suree’s Thai Kitchen. You can eat in or takeaway at this medium sized restaurant which is almost too Thai for its own good with advertising for ‘discount massages’ by the door.
Lime and Lemon Thai Café (Gouger St, Adelaide)
I used to go here a bit, but the food’s on the average side and the service can be very patchy. For a restaurant which is a stone’s throw from Chinatown, this isn’t good news for the Lemon and Lime as punters including myself are likely just to head across the street and get a bowl of soup or noodles for half the price and at twice the speed from the hole-in-the-wall food stalls at the Central Market, where service is friendly, fast and no fuss.
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
Things I ate, places I went, and what I thought of it all...
Montezuma’s (Melbourne St, North Adelaide)
Meh. Okay if you like the same ten or so ingredients recombined fifty different ways. Standard stuff including tacos, nachos and chill con carne but also some wacky entries like the dubious sounding garlic prawn nachos. There are better places to eat round there.
Curry Chongs (Food Court, Central Market, Adelaide)
Still doing the best damn chicken curry in this town, and at a ridiculously cheap price. You can eat in the food court and sympathize with fellow Chong customers as your stomach slowly fills to bursting point as a result of being given a platter sized portion of delicious rice, curry and veggies from only $6.50. The Laksa House two stalls down also rates a mention here, as does the Vietnamese stall near the entrance with their made to order cold rolls, and the ever popular Ricky’s Chicken Rice. Not sure what’s in that green sauce they serve but damn, it’s good.
Goodlife Organic Pizza (170 Hutt St, Adelaide)
If you haven’t been here yet, do it. I went to a birthday dinner here the other day and our ‘private function room’ was the garden shed, whitewashed and complete with tealights and music from speakers on the walls. Now that’s atmosphere. Not only do they serve my favourite wine, the hard-to-find Rockford Alicante Bouchet, but the swiss brown mushroom pizza with garlic aioli ($14.50/21.90) is bloody amazing. Everything is organic and local and there is just no comparison. How people should eat.
Bazu (39 Gouger St, Adelaide)
Fuck yes, hot pot! Get excited because this Schezuan restaurant serves one of the world’s greatest interactive meals. The hot pot involves cooking your own food, morsel by morsel, right at your table in a steaming vat of aromatic broth. Take the checklist and choose between paper thin slices of lamb or beef, pork dumplings, fresh tofu, Chinese spinach, bean vermicelli and seafood. Get some sesame garlic sauce for the side and you’re ready for action. Chuck in anything or everything and wait for the magic to happen. Then, as each spinach leaf is steamed, dumpling stewed and tofu slice tender, it’s your job to locate the ladle (which has often slipped unnoticed to the bottom of the broth, thereby requiring excellent chopstick skills to retrieve it) and remove the morsels as they become ready and whack em in your chops. You’ll find Bazu upstairs between the Buddha Bar and Cibo. I’ll probably be there too.
Wild Thyme Organic Market & Café (Melbourne St, North Adelaide)
The way the world is heading. These guys have the right idea with their café shop front and organic supermarket out the back, where you can buy all the ingredients of the quinoa salad or organic chicken ceasar wrap you just ate. That said, it’s surprising to see so many brands and products there that I already buy, so clearly everyone’s jumping on this bandwagon into the organic, free range, free trade products. You can takeaway or eat in, and they also do awesome coffee. Like a younger, more environmentally and socially conscious version of The Store. Lots of young trendies spotted here recently.
Meh. Okay if you like the same ten or so ingredients recombined fifty different ways. Standard stuff including tacos, nachos and chill con carne but also some wacky entries like the dubious sounding garlic prawn nachos. There are better places to eat round there.
Curry Chongs (Food Court, Central Market, Adelaide)
Still doing the best damn chicken curry in this town, and at a ridiculously cheap price. You can eat in the food court and sympathize with fellow Chong customers as your stomach slowly fills to bursting point as a result of being given a platter sized portion of delicious rice, curry and veggies from only $6.50. The Laksa House two stalls down also rates a mention here, as does the Vietnamese stall near the entrance with their made to order cold rolls, and the ever popular Ricky’s Chicken Rice. Not sure what’s in that green sauce they serve but damn, it’s good.
Goodlife Organic Pizza (170 Hutt St, Adelaide)
If you haven’t been here yet, do it. I went to a birthday dinner here the other day and our ‘private function room’ was the garden shed, whitewashed and complete with tealights and music from speakers on the walls. Now that’s atmosphere. Not only do they serve my favourite wine, the hard-to-find Rockford Alicante Bouchet, but the swiss brown mushroom pizza with garlic aioli ($14.50/21.90) is bloody amazing. Everything is organic and local and there is just no comparison. How people should eat.
Bazu (39 Gouger St, Adelaide)
Fuck yes, hot pot! Get excited because this Schezuan restaurant serves one of the world’s greatest interactive meals. The hot pot involves cooking your own food, morsel by morsel, right at your table in a steaming vat of aromatic broth. Take the checklist and choose between paper thin slices of lamb or beef, pork dumplings, fresh tofu, Chinese spinach, bean vermicelli and seafood. Get some sesame garlic sauce for the side and you’re ready for action. Chuck in anything or everything and wait for the magic to happen. Then, as each spinach leaf is steamed, dumpling stewed and tofu slice tender, it’s your job to locate the ladle (which has often slipped unnoticed to the bottom of the broth, thereby requiring excellent chopstick skills to retrieve it) and remove the morsels as they become ready and whack em in your chops. You’ll find Bazu upstairs between the Buddha Bar and Cibo. I’ll probably be there too.
Wild Thyme Organic Market & Café (Melbourne St, North Adelaide)
The way the world is heading. These guys have the right idea with their café shop front and organic supermarket out the back, where you can buy all the ingredients of the quinoa salad or organic chicken ceasar wrap you just ate. That said, it’s surprising to see so many brands and products there that I already buy, so clearly everyone’s jumping on this bandwagon into the organic, free range, free trade products. You can takeaway or eat in, and they also do awesome coffee. Like a younger, more environmentally and socially conscious version of The Store. Lots of young trendies spotted here recently.
Monday, 12 May 2008
Hannah’s Top 5 Interactive Foods ... Because we all like to play with our food.
1. Steamboat.
Steamboat is a dish originating in China, and involves cooking ingredients at the table in a communal pot of boiling broth. It has the magical ability to not only keep one entertained for hours but also provide a delicious and healthy meal. See my review of Bazu restaurant also in this edition for more details.
2. Vietnamese Cold Rolls
Get some round rice paper wrappers from your local Asian grocer. Finely slice up some cooked meat and veggies, pick some fresh mint and coriander, peel some prawns and then wrap a bit of everything up together with some chopped peanuts and rice vermicelli. Use hoisin as a dipping sauce. Fresh and nutritious, although it takes some practice to roll them up without mini disasters occurring, and you’re going to want to learn how to dip the rice paper in hot water for just the right amount of time so it neither cracks nor disintegrates when you roll them up.
3. Crustaceans
There’s nothing quite as satisfying as peeling a fat fresh prawn, or cracking a juicy crab claw open. When I lived in Barcelona I would regularly visit the famous La Boqueria food market to choose live seafood off counters lined a foot deep with crushed ice. Massive crabs and lobsters still waving their arms never made it home with me to my student budget but the prawns got their revenge in what I can only describe as ‘the accident’ one night at a restaurant at the Port. In Adelaide, head to the Central Market to find yourself some nice ones and don’t forget to buy a lemon.
4. Fondue
Be it chocolate or cheese, it’s the same principle. You’re going to melt it down, add some booze and then dip things into it, all at the table. For the cheese fondue, get a couple of different kinds of cheese (the traditional ones are raclette and gruyere), some white wine, a splash of cherry brandy (Kirsch) and some garlic. Rub the garlic around the inside of the fondue pot, then melt down the grated cheese and the alcohol. You can add spices such as nutmeg too, then serve it up with a couple of crusty French sticks. Chocolate fondue is simpler – just add liqueur, cream or both to your fondue pot along with the grated chocolate and make sure there’s plenty of fruit, nuts or biscuits to dip. Skewers are a necessary evil for both.
5. Toasted marshmallows
Hot coals, stick, marshmallows. No further explanation needed. Not strictly only for campfires, either. One night at the Grace Emily Hotel I had gotten through quite a few Frangelicos when I suddenly ran round the corner to the servo, returning with a large bag of Pascalls and a couple of sticks cracked off a nearby tree. I spent the rest of the night happily taking orders from patrons for marshmallows toasted to their desired crispiness. I believe the fun ended when we ran out of marshmallows and I tried to toast a beer instead. Try it in your fireplace, over the barbeque, or on the beach. Not during fire ban season though.
Steamboat is a dish originating in China, and involves cooking ingredients at the table in a communal pot of boiling broth. It has the magical ability to not only keep one entertained for hours but also provide a delicious and healthy meal. See my review of Bazu restaurant also in this edition for more details.
2. Vietnamese Cold Rolls
Get some round rice paper wrappers from your local Asian grocer. Finely slice up some cooked meat and veggies, pick some fresh mint and coriander, peel some prawns and then wrap a bit of everything up together with some chopped peanuts and rice vermicelli. Use hoisin as a dipping sauce. Fresh and nutritious, although it takes some practice to roll them up without mini disasters occurring, and you’re going to want to learn how to dip the rice paper in hot water for just the right amount of time so it neither cracks nor disintegrates when you roll them up.
3. Crustaceans
There’s nothing quite as satisfying as peeling a fat fresh prawn, or cracking a juicy crab claw open. When I lived in Barcelona I would regularly visit the famous La Boqueria food market to choose live seafood off counters lined a foot deep with crushed ice. Massive crabs and lobsters still waving their arms never made it home with me to my student budget but the prawns got their revenge in what I can only describe as ‘the accident’ one night at a restaurant at the Port. In Adelaide, head to the Central Market to find yourself some nice ones and don’t forget to buy a lemon.
4. Fondue
Be it chocolate or cheese, it’s the same principle. You’re going to melt it down, add some booze and then dip things into it, all at the table. For the cheese fondue, get a couple of different kinds of cheese (the traditional ones are raclette and gruyere), some white wine, a splash of cherry brandy (Kirsch) and some garlic. Rub the garlic around the inside of the fondue pot, then melt down the grated cheese and the alcohol. You can add spices such as nutmeg too, then serve it up with a couple of crusty French sticks. Chocolate fondue is simpler – just add liqueur, cream or both to your fondue pot along with the grated chocolate and make sure there’s plenty of fruit, nuts or biscuits to dip. Skewers are a necessary evil for both.
5. Toasted marshmallows
Hot coals, stick, marshmallows. No further explanation needed. Not strictly only for campfires, either. One night at the Grace Emily Hotel I had gotten through quite a few Frangelicos when I suddenly ran round the corner to the servo, returning with a large bag of Pascalls and a couple of sticks cracked off a nearby tree. I spent the rest of the night happily taking orders from patrons for marshmallows toasted to their desired crispiness. I believe the fun ended when we ran out of marshmallows and I tried to toast a beer instead. Try it in your fireplace, over the barbeque, or on the beach. Not during fire ban season though.
Monday, 5 May 2008
Come all Ye Faithful
The Unibar has been reborn this year amid controversy, uncertainty and death threats, but who’s actually running the joint now, and more importantly, where the f#@% are the wedges? Hannah Frank reports.
Last year before the Adelaide University Union handed its commercial operations over to the University, the President at the time, David Wilkins, began receiving threatening anonymous phone calls, warning him that there would be trouble if the Board of Directors were to give up the Unibar.
Fast forward a few months and the doors still open every day at 12pm sharp; beer is still $4.50 a pint and there are familiar faces pouring the pints. Meanwhile, the Adelaide University Union is getting on with its core mission of promoting student life on campus without the threat of bankruptcy.
The new owner of the Unibar is actually the University itself, and they’re also running the Mayo and other campus cafes through the catering department of the National Wine Centre.
Steering the ship is new bar manager Alan, and the bar supervisor Ash, whose controlled chaos approach so far seems to be winning over suspicious student groups and regulars who have cautiously begun returning to see what the deal is with the relaunched venue – but not everyone is happy with the changes.
There are hate groups on Facebook denouncing the new bar, and everything from the salad to the setup to the brands of beer have come under fire. So what are the new managers going to do with our bar?
“We’re here to make sure students are happy” says Alan. “We want them to feel that this is their bar”. The Unibar has already sponsored ten clubs and societies on campus this year, giving them drinks specials and discounts in order to encourage them to come in after meetings and for special events. The biggest so far has been the AUES pub crawl, which packed out the venue with yellow clad engineers clamoring to claim their free tequila shot, paid for by the bar.
But there are bigger plans, too. “We want to bring things to the Unibar no one has ever seen before” says Ash. “We’re going to have rodeo nights where you can ride a bull.”
It’s but one of many plans to make the Unibar bigger and better and more inclusive than ever – others include the Clubs Association Cup, a year-long tournament of ten competitions culminating in a karaoke grand final, as well as a newly installed cocktail bar, novelty drinks, a wider selection of wine and imported beers, and ongoing pool competitions.
But while this all sounds great in planning, do these two have the skills to pull it off? Only time will tell. Alan has just returned from the UK where he spent five years running student bars around Oxford.
Ash began his hospitality career as a kitchen hand in the Whitsundays and worked his way up through positions at the Seacliff Beach Hotel and the Hilton International in Adelaide as well as cocktail bars at the ski resorts of Thredbo and Mt Buller. His new position of bar supervisor at the Unibar is just the next step; “I wanted to get into the management side of things”.
For Alan, coming back to Adelaide Uni is a bit of a homecoming; “I did my honours in philosophy here. It was about the morality of war and we were going to Afghanistan at the time so it was very topical”.
Hospitality background aside, there is a certain comic disparity between the two. Alan likes pubs; Ash likes clubs. Alan would rather listen to a live band while Ash would cut up the dance floor with a DJ. Alan smokes; Ash doesn’t.
For all their differences though, it seems to work in the anarchic environment. Alan prefers early mornings and works during the day, while Ash prefers late nights and takes the late shift every night. Ash is keen to get more live DJs into the Unibar, while Alan wants to make sure local talent has a place to do their fledging gigs.
There is one thing they have in common though; having worked in hospitality for years, it is safe to assume that these boys like a drink. Alan says his usual drinks of choice are Coopers Pale, a good glass of wine or a ‘Russian Monk’, which is made of vodka, Frangelico, milk and cream with a dash of cinnamon or nutmeg on top.
“Believe it or not” confesses Ash when I ask him about his favoruites, “but for me, it’s scotch, scotch, and more scotch”. Realizing that this perhaps doesn’t quite add up with his cocktail obsession, he offers; “For me, the enjoyment in making cocktails is seeing the person smile when they take a sip. Believe it or not, there are actually more ingredients you can use to make a cocktail than a chef could use to cook.”
I don’t believe him, but at the same time, I’ve tasted his drinks and they are pretty damn good. We’re just waiting on some more equipment, he says, before a fully equipped cocktail section is operation in the Unibar.
Throughout the interview, there have been constant interruptions; suppliers calling about the next promotion; student groups want to know what their drinks specials are; and bar staff needing to go on breaks. At about the seventh knock of the door I see the usually calm Ash snap; the place he ordered lunch from got his order wrong. He throws the bag down on the desk, with an exasperated look. “Can’t they get anything right?”.
Getting it right is what it’s all about, and the new managers are acutely aware of the need to widen the appeal of the Unibar from recent years. “We’re trying to bring the reputation back to the Unibar as a live venue and to make it a place where people can go for a good night out, not just a place to go for a drink after a lecture” Alan explains.
So now comes the test of the Unibar fanatic; what do Alan and Ash think of The Guru? “You mean the dude out there?” asks Ash, and I nod. “Yeah, it’s like a culture sort of thing”. Well, yes. The Guru, for those who haven’t heard the legend, is a portrait of a man sitting partly submerged in a deck chair, encased in a wife beater, with a few stubbie cans floating about. Its removal a few years ago prompted an engineer called Bill Fuller to run a “Save the Guru” pub crawl and the painting was reinstated to its place on the back wall.
“I like the Guru.” says Alan. “In fact. after six weeks I couldn’t imagine not having him here. When I come in the morning at 9am I grab a coffee, light up a cigarette – outside – and on my way I walk past The Guru. I look up at him, he looks down at me and together we get ready for a big day.”
Touching as this newly formed friendship is, I am keen to point out that the most pressing issue is still unresolved. Repeating my demand for answers, Alan leans back in his chair and pauses for a moment. “The wedges” he says “are in planning. When we got here the kitchen wasn’t what we considered standard for this sort of food, so for now we’re just waiting to see how things go. Baby steps.”
Wrapping up the interview, I ask them if there is anything else they want to add. “I suppose we just want people to know that we’re young – well, Ash is young – and that we want it to be a fun place to be. We’re willing to take ideas and turn this into a place where everybody on campus can go.”
The Unibar is open from 12pm weekdays, and is located on Level 5, Union House on the North Terrace Campus of the University of Adelaide.
Disclosure: The author was a Board Director of the AUU in 2007. Minutes of meetings held are available from AUU Reception.
Last year before the Adelaide University Union handed its commercial operations over to the University, the President at the time, David Wilkins, began receiving threatening anonymous phone calls, warning him that there would be trouble if the Board of Directors were to give up the Unibar.
Fast forward a few months and the doors still open every day at 12pm sharp; beer is still $4.50 a pint and there are familiar faces pouring the pints. Meanwhile, the Adelaide University Union is getting on with its core mission of promoting student life on campus without the threat of bankruptcy.
The new owner of the Unibar is actually the University itself, and they’re also running the Mayo and other campus cafes through the catering department of the National Wine Centre.
Steering the ship is new bar manager Alan, and the bar supervisor Ash, whose controlled chaos approach so far seems to be winning over suspicious student groups and regulars who have cautiously begun returning to see what the deal is with the relaunched venue – but not everyone is happy with the changes.
There are hate groups on Facebook denouncing the new bar, and everything from the salad to the setup to the brands of beer have come under fire. So what are the new managers going to do with our bar?
“We’re here to make sure students are happy” says Alan. “We want them to feel that this is their bar”. The Unibar has already sponsored ten clubs and societies on campus this year, giving them drinks specials and discounts in order to encourage them to come in after meetings and for special events. The biggest so far has been the AUES pub crawl, which packed out the venue with yellow clad engineers clamoring to claim their free tequila shot, paid for by the bar.
But there are bigger plans, too. “We want to bring things to the Unibar no one has ever seen before” says Ash. “We’re going to have rodeo nights where you can ride a bull.”
It’s but one of many plans to make the Unibar bigger and better and more inclusive than ever – others include the Clubs Association Cup, a year-long tournament of ten competitions culminating in a karaoke grand final, as well as a newly installed cocktail bar, novelty drinks, a wider selection of wine and imported beers, and ongoing pool competitions.
But while this all sounds great in planning, do these two have the skills to pull it off? Only time will tell. Alan has just returned from the UK where he spent five years running student bars around Oxford.
Ash began his hospitality career as a kitchen hand in the Whitsundays and worked his way up through positions at the Seacliff Beach Hotel and the Hilton International in Adelaide as well as cocktail bars at the ski resorts of Thredbo and Mt Buller. His new position of bar supervisor at the Unibar is just the next step; “I wanted to get into the management side of things”.
For Alan, coming back to Adelaide Uni is a bit of a homecoming; “I did my honours in philosophy here. It was about the morality of war and we were going to Afghanistan at the time so it was very topical”.
Hospitality background aside, there is a certain comic disparity between the two. Alan likes pubs; Ash likes clubs. Alan would rather listen to a live band while Ash would cut up the dance floor with a DJ. Alan smokes; Ash doesn’t.
For all their differences though, it seems to work in the anarchic environment. Alan prefers early mornings and works during the day, while Ash prefers late nights and takes the late shift every night. Ash is keen to get more live DJs into the Unibar, while Alan wants to make sure local talent has a place to do their fledging gigs.
There is one thing they have in common though; having worked in hospitality for years, it is safe to assume that these boys like a drink. Alan says his usual drinks of choice are Coopers Pale, a good glass of wine or a ‘Russian Monk’, which is made of vodka, Frangelico, milk and cream with a dash of cinnamon or nutmeg on top.
“Believe it or not” confesses Ash when I ask him about his favoruites, “but for me, it’s scotch, scotch, and more scotch”. Realizing that this perhaps doesn’t quite add up with his cocktail obsession, he offers; “For me, the enjoyment in making cocktails is seeing the person smile when they take a sip. Believe it or not, there are actually more ingredients you can use to make a cocktail than a chef could use to cook.”
I don’t believe him, but at the same time, I’ve tasted his drinks and they are pretty damn good. We’re just waiting on some more equipment, he says, before a fully equipped cocktail section is operation in the Unibar.
Throughout the interview, there have been constant interruptions; suppliers calling about the next promotion; student groups want to know what their drinks specials are; and bar staff needing to go on breaks. At about the seventh knock of the door I see the usually calm Ash snap; the place he ordered lunch from got his order wrong. He throws the bag down on the desk, with an exasperated look. “Can’t they get anything right?”.
Getting it right is what it’s all about, and the new managers are acutely aware of the need to widen the appeal of the Unibar from recent years. “We’re trying to bring the reputation back to the Unibar as a live venue and to make it a place where people can go for a good night out, not just a place to go for a drink after a lecture” Alan explains.
So now comes the test of the Unibar fanatic; what do Alan and Ash think of The Guru? “You mean the dude out there?” asks Ash, and I nod. “Yeah, it’s like a culture sort of thing”. Well, yes. The Guru, for those who haven’t heard the legend, is a portrait of a man sitting partly submerged in a deck chair, encased in a wife beater, with a few stubbie cans floating about. Its removal a few years ago prompted an engineer called Bill Fuller to run a “Save the Guru” pub crawl and the painting was reinstated to its place on the back wall.
“I like the Guru.” says Alan. “In fact. after six weeks I couldn’t imagine not having him here. When I come in the morning at 9am I grab a coffee, light up a cigarette – outside – and on my way I walk past The Guru. I look up at him, he looks down at me and together we get ready for a big day.”
Touching as this newly formed friendship is, I am keen to point out that the most pressing issue is still unresolved. Repeating my demand for answers, Alan leans back in his chair and pauses for a moment. “The wedges” he says “are in planning. When we got here the kitchen wasn’t what we considered standard for this sort of food, so for now we’re just waiting to see how things go. Baby steps.”
Wrapping up the interview, I ask them if there is anything else they want to add. “I suppose we just want people to know that we’re young – well, Ash is young – and that we want it to be a fun place to be. We’re willing to take ideas and turn this into a place where everybody on campus can go.”
The Unibar is open from 12pm weekdays, and is located on Level 5, Union House on the North Terrace Campus of the University of Adelaide.
Disclosure: The author was a Board Director of the AUU in 2007. Minutes of meetings held are available from AUU Reception.
Wednesday, 26 March 2008
In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto
A book defending unfairly persecuted food groups doesn’t exactly leapt out from the shelves, but one with a campaign to end ‘the silence of the yams’, to reject everything you ever believed about nutrition and with three tantalizingly simple rules that will change the way you eat, and turn around major health crises of Western society sure does.
A call to arms in an age of packaged and processed food, ‘In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto’ by Michael Pollan tells us why Western society, with the most advanced scientific and nutritional information available, is still getting fatter and sicker and what we can do about it. The way we eat, he says, is the result of ‘a history of macronutrients at war’ where protein, fat and carbohydrates rotate as ‘demon’ foods.
The development of food science has led to our unhealthy obsession with healthy foods, a condition Pollan calls ‘orthorexia’. This, he says, has resulted in us turning away from natural food and instead relying on ‘edible food like substances’ such as margarines that can lower your cholesterol, omega-3 enriched bread and vitamin water. Health claims on food packaging, he says, ‘should be our first clue that something is anything but healthy’.
‘As a general rule it's a whole lot easier to slap a health claim on a box of sugary cereal than on a raw potato or a carrot, with the perverse result that the most healthful foods in the supermarket sit there quietly in the produce section, silent as stroke victims, while a few aisles over in Cereal the Cocoa Puffs and Lucky Charms are screaming their newfound "whole-grain goodness" to the rafters.’
So what to do? Luckily Pollan is as much pragmatist as anything else, and lets the facts do the talking before he lays down a few guidelines for his manifesto, which is seven simple words:
Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.
Tantalizingly simple, no? And this is the solution to the obesity epidemic, soaring rates of heart disease and my own lard? There’s only one way to find out. I will qualify this section for you a little more, because unless you’ve read the book, you’ll be wondering what else you possibly could eat. Shit maybe? No, by food, I mean real food, not the processed crap that’s making big corporations lots of money.
Below are the qualifiers and some explanation to help you on your way. I know it all sounds a bit hippy to begin with, but it all starts to make sense if you join the dots between why you eat like you do, how you feel and what impact it has on society, the environment and your wallet.
How to: Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly plants. (Adapted from In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto)
• Anything with a health claim – out. You won’t see a lovely ripe tomato or a bunch of bright green bok choy with a 99% fat free label, mainly because they’re less likely to be packaged.
• Don’t eat anything incapable of rotting. Ever seen Super Size Me and those fries from Macca’s? That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.
• In order to eat real food, avoid anything containing ingredients that are (a) unfamiliar, (b) unpronounceable, or (c) more than five in number. They’re all pretty good indicators of a ‘food like substance’.
• Don’t eat anything your great grandmother wouldn’t recognize. That’s the most recent time when people weren’t all fat and sick, so we’re aiming for the sort of food they were eating then too. If you’re pretty sure your great grandmother wouldn’t know whether to eat a tube of yogurt or apply it to her face, for example, don’t bother.
• If you’re in the supermarket, stick to the edges. All the packaged, preserved and processed stuff is in the shelves in the middle, while the fresh and refrigerated stuff is around the outside. You’re more likely to eat healthily just by avoiding the middle. Interesting, huh?
• As a side note, if possible stay out of the supermarket all together. We have a supreme choice of fresh food markets in Adelaide, so get on down to the Central during the week and the Adelaide Showground Farmers market on the weekend. The Brickwork Markets, Willunga…there’s one near you.
• Remember, you are what you eat, and what you eat eats too. So buy the best free range meat you can, because if your steak was fed crap quality food and antibiotics, you’re eating it too. You’re looking for grass fed beef and true free range chickens.
A call to arms in an age of packaged and processed food, ‘In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto’ by Michael Pollan tells us why Western society, with the most advanced scientific and nutritional information available, is still getting fatter and sicker and what we can do about it. The way we eat, he says, is the result of ‘a history of macronutrients at war’ where protein, fat and carbohydrates rotate as ‘demon’ foods.
The development of food science has led to our unhealthy obsession with healthy foods, a condition Pollan calls ‘orthorexia’. This, he says, has resulted in us turning away from natural food and instead relying on ‘edible food like substances’ such as margarines that can lower your cholesterol, omega-3 enriched bread and vitamin water. Health claims on food packaging, he says, ‘should be our first clue that something is anything but healthy’.
‘As a general rule it's a whole lot easier to slap a health claim on a box of sugary cereal than on a raw potato or a carrot, with the perverse result that the most healthful foods in the supermarket sit there quietly in the produce section, silent as stroke victims, while a few aisles over in Cereal the Cocoa Puffs and Lucky Charms are screaming their newfound "whole-grain goodness" to the rafters.’
So what to do? Luckily Pollan is as much pragmatist as anything else, and lets the facts do the talking before he lays down a few guidelines for his manifesto, which is seven simple words:
Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.
Tantalizingly simple, no? And this is the solution to the obesity epidemic, soaring rates of heart disease and my own lard? There’s only one way to find out. I will qualify this section for you a little more, because unless you’ve read the book, you’ll be wondering what else you possibly could eat. Shit maybe? No, by food, I mean real food, not the processed crap that’s making big corporations lots of money.
Below are the qualifiers and some explanation to help you on your way. I know it all sounds a bit hippy to begin with, but it all starts to make sense if you join the dots between why you eat like you do, how you feel and what impact it has on society, the environment and your wallet.
How to: Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly plants. (Adapted from In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto)
• Anything with a health claim – out. You won’t see a lovely ripe tomato or a bunch of bright green bok choy with a 99% fat free label, mainly because they’re less likely to be packaged.
• Don’t eat anything incapable of rotting. Ever seen Super Size Me and those fries from Macca’s? That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.
• In order to eat real food, avoid anything containing ingredients that are (a) unfamiliar, (b) unpronounceable, or (c) more than five in number. They’re all pretty good indicators of a ‘food like substance’.
• Don’t eat anything your great grandmother wouldn’t recognize. That’s the most recent time when people weren’t all fat and sick, so we’re aiming for the sort of food they were eating then too. If you’re pretty sure your great grandmother wouldn’t know whether to eat a tube of yogurt or apply it to her face, for example, don’t bother.
• If you’re in the supermarket, stick to the edges. All the packaged, preserved and processed stuff is in the shelves in the middle, while the fresh and refrigerated stuff is around the outside. You’re more likely to eat healthily just by avoiding the middle. Interesting, huh?
• As a side note, if possible stay out of the supermarket all together. We have a supreme choice of fresh food markets in Adelaide, so get on down to the Central during the week and the Adelaide Showground Farmers market on the weekend. The Brickwork Markets, Willunga…there’s one near you.
• Remember, you are what you eat, and what you eat eats too. So buy the best free range meat you can, because if your steak was fed crap quality food and antibiotics, you’re eating it too. You’re looking for grass fed beef and true free range chickens.
Friday, 21 March 2008
Restaurant Sixty Six (King William Road, Goodwood)
There’s a sense of doom that comes with forgetting your credit card when you’re supposed to be shouting someone a birthday dinner. Forgoing all the eateries up the ‘popular’ end of the street near the Hyde Park Tavern, we had zoomed merrily towards Restaurant 66 before I realised that my credit card was sitting patiently on my desk at home after making some pay-day eBay purchases earlier that afternoon.
Back home again on the other side of town with the required card now returned to its rightful top slot in my wallet, we called Restaurant 66 to ask them if we could still eat at the rather late (for Adelaide) hour of 9:45pm. ‘No problem’ came the reply, and so we sped back through the city to arrive to a nearly empty restaurant bar two women dissecting their relationships in great detail over some luscious looking desserts.
I’m always a bit nervous going to a new restaurant. You never know what might happen, especially as the last three months overseas had produced some Fawtly Towers like the time when I had asked for a spoon and been presented with two black coffees, spiked with whiskey. At Restaurant 66, the charming entrance down a lantern lit path and proprietor Greg’s friendly approach ensured we were in for a good night.
Offered the prime pick of tables in front of the window overlooking King William St, the atmosphere was cosy if a little quiet due to the lack of other diners. But no complaints, because it meant we had Greg’s full attention.
The menu showed somewhat schizophrenic tendencies, with elaborately sauced French style dishes sitting awkwardly alongside Asian style offerings including a pub-esque Salt n Pepper Squid, a Quail entrée which sounded more like a chocolate bar with its fruit and nut glaze, and a Massaman Chicken Curry that ended the list of French style main courses.
The special of the night ‘two things which turns into five’ was a red and green curry, which came with beef or duck for the red curry, and chicken, prawns or interestingly, salmon with the green.
The website describes Restaurant 66 as ‘Provincial French and Modern Australian’ but, on the night we were there at least, it was more accurately ‘Provincial French or Thai’. Don’t be fooled; there’s no fusion going on here.
Beginning with some sparkling mineral water and a bottle of Skillogallee Rose, which Greg told us was ‘in the style of Alicante’ and therefore our pick of the night, we pondered whether to go down the French or Asian path tonight before both settling on the European continent. I chose the Salmon Béarnaise ($30.50) with its asparagus, crushed potatoes, baby spinach and ‘66’s Sensational House Made Béarnaise Sauce’ while my companion went for the Duck Montmorency ($31.50), which appealed for the sour cherry and cherry brandy glaze.
On enquiring about how the salmon came (I have been wary ever since working at a restaurant where the default was ‘medium rare’) Greg assured me that Restaurant 66 was ‘traditional, not trendy’, and my salmon would be cooked through.
After an appropriate pause, say one or two glasses of wine, the food arrived on large, square plates. Now, decent plating will impress me anyday, but there was something special going on in front of me. Not only did my salmon proudly wear a corner of its crunchy crust under the béarnaise, but, perched on top of a few nicely crisped baby potatoes, it managed to still look like food, and good food at that. Extra points here in a time where artistically arranged titbits on a plate often masquerade as your meal.
The duck was similarly impressive, though a heavy note of rosemary, unmentioned in the menu, made it difficult for me to taste the sour cherry. Apparently it was splendid though. The ‘Snow White’ mashed potato was by all reports deliciously creamy, though it came moulded into a somewhat unnerving round shape. I prefer my mash served in a bit more of an anarchic fashion, sprawling across the plate so that it can do its job of looking after stray juices that escape from the meat.
After such an impressive meal, we were happy, pleasantly full and a little tipsy. The desserts we had seen looked luscious but looking over the menu Greg told us that our two choices weren’t available. ‘We just tried the pannacotta and it’s not set yet. It was horrible!’.
It’s not often that you’ll get such honesty from a restaurateur, but it was this charming candour form Greg that endeared him to us. Earlier, he had poured the wine in what he considered to be in the wrong order, and we assured him that we didn’t really mind about these things. Later, as we finished our mains, he rushed over looking a little sheepish. ‘It’s probably a bit late to ask, but is everything ok?’
With nothing else on the dessert menu that particularly appealed to us, we decided a cheese platter would be a good way to end the night, and our bottle of wine. It arrived with the heavy wooden board dwarfing the slivers of cheese. Now, it’s often the case that you feel slightly ripped off ordering a cheese platter – perhaps because it doesn’t seem like much effort or product for your money – but in this case, it seemed worse because the mains had been spot on.
Here we had a few slivers of cheese (including a delicious yet inexpensive cumin infused one I regularly buy at the Central Market) a single cherry tomato, a strawberry, a few sultanas, almonds and cashews, and some standard-issue crackers. It took us all of five minutes to inhale the morsels while we finished the wine.
Another sting came when the bill arrived. It turned out that my 300mL bottle of sparkling water, from some all natural granite source or other in Victoria, had cost me ten of my hard earned dollars. The bottle of wine we had enjoyed, which sold for $16 or so down the road shop had enjoyed a 100% mark up at $34. Though probably not uncommon in the restaurant industry, after the cheese platter and alongside a $10 bottle of water it didn’t slide down so well.
Win some; lose some. Restaurant 66 was a bit hit and miss for us, but the food is damn good, doing justice to its style, and worth the outlay for the mains. Assuming the Modern Australian sector performs equally well, then this restaurant has all the ticks where it counts – pricing issues and cheese portioning being issues only for those of us who are poor and starving – probably not Greg’s usual clientele. It’s friendly, not fussy, and certainly worth a visit for a special night out or a celebration.
Back home again on the other side of town with the required card now returned to its rightful top slot in my wallet, we called Restaurant 66 to ask them if we could still eat at the rather late (for Adelaide) hour of 9:45pm. ‘No problem’ came the reply, and so we sped back through the city to arrive to a nearly empty restaurant bar two women dissecting their relationships in great detail over some luscious looking desserts.
I’m always a bit nervous going to a new restaurant. You never know what might happen, especially as the last three months overseas had produced some Fawtly Towers like the time when I had asked for a spoon and been presented with two black coffees, spiked with whiskey. At Restaurant 66, the charming entrance down a lantern lit path and proprietor Greg’s friendly approach ensured we were in for a good night.
Offered the prime pick of tables in front of the window overlooking King William St, the atmosphere was cosy if a little quiet due to the lack of other diners. But no complaints, because it meant we had Greg’s full attention.
The menu showed somewhat schizophrenic tendencies, with elaborately sauced French style dishes sitting awkwardly alongside Asian style offerings including a pub-esque Salt n Pepper Squid, a Quail entrée which sounded more like a chocolate bar with its fruit and nut glaze, and a Massaman Chicken Curry that ended the list of French style main courses.
The special of the night ‘two things which turns into five’ was a red and green curry, which came with beef or duck for the red curry, and chicken, prawns or interestingly, salmon with the green.
The website describes Restaurant 66 as ‘Provincial French and Modern Australian’ but, on the night we were there at least, it was more accurately ‘Provincial French or Thai’. Don’t be fooled; there’s no fusion going on here.
Beginning with some sparkling mineral water and a bottle of Skillogallee Rose, which Greg told us was ‘in the style of Alicante’ and therefore our pick of the night, we pondered whether to go down the French or Asian path tonight before both settling on the European continent. I chose the Salmon Béarnaise ($30.50) with its asparagus, crushed potatoes, baby spinach and ‘66’s Sensational House Made Béarnaise Sauce’ while my companion went for the Duck Montmorency ($31.50), which appealed for the sour cherry and cherry brandy glaze.
On enquiring about how the salmon came (I have been wary ever since working at a restaurant where the default was ‘medium rare’) Greg assured me that Restaurant 66 was ‘traditional, not trendy’, and my salmon would be cooked through.
After an appropriate pause, say one or two glasses of wine, the food arrived on large, square plates. Now, decent plating will impress me anyday, but there was something special going on in front of me. Not only did my salmon proudly wear a corner of its crunchy crust under the béarnaise, but, perched on top of a few nicely crisped baby potatoes, it managed to still look like food, and good food at that. Extra points here in a time where artistically arranged titbits on a plate often masquerade as your meal.
The duck was similarly impressive, though a heavy note of rosemary, unmentioned in the menu, made it difficult for me to taste the sour cherry. Apparently it was splendid though. The ‘Snow White’ mashed potato was by all reports deliciously creamy, though it came moulded into a somewhat unnerving round shape. I prefer my mash served in a bit more of an anarchic fashion, sprawling across the plate so that it can do its job of looking after stray juices that escape from the meat.
After such an impressive meal, we were happy, pleasantly full and a little tipsy. The desserts we had seen looked luscious but looking over the menu Greg told us that our two choices weren’t available. ‘We just tried the pannacotta and it’s not set yet. It was horrible!’.
It’s not often that you’ll get such honesty from a restaurateur, but it was this charming candour form Greg that endeared him to us. Earlier, he had poured the wine in what he considered to be in the wrong order, and we assured him that we didn’t really mind about these things. Later, as we finished our mains, he rushed over looking a little sheepish. ‘It’s probably a bit late to ask, but is everything ok?’
With nothing else on the dessert menu that particularly appealed to us, we decided a cheese platter would be a good way to end the night, and our bottle of wine. It arrived with the heavy wooden board dwarfing the slivers of cheese. Now, it’s often the case that you feel slightly ripped off ordering a cheese platter – perhaps because it doesn’t seem like much effort or product for your money – but in this case, it seemed worse because the mains had been spot on.
Here we had a few slivers of cheese (including a delicious yet inexpensive cumin infused one I regularly buy at the Central Market) a single cherry tomato, a strawberry, a few sultanas, almonds and cashews, and some standard-issue crackers. It took us all of five minutes to inhale the morsels while we finished the wine.
Another sting came when the bill arrived. It turned out that my 300mL bottle of sparkling water, from some all natural granite source or other in Victoria, had cost me ten of my hard earned dollars. The bottle of wine we had enjoyed, which sold for $16 or so down the road shop had enjoyed a 100% mark up at $34. Though probably not uncommon in the restaurant industry, after the cheese platter and alongside a $10 bottle of water it didn’t slide down so well.
Win some; lose some. Restaurant 66 was a bit hit and miss for us, but the food is damn good, doing justice to its style, and worth the outlay for the mains. Assuming the Modern Australian sector performs equally well, then this restaurant has all the ticks where it counts – pricing issues and cheese portioning being issues only for those of us who are poor and starving – probably not Greg’s usual clientele. It’s friendly, not fussy, and certainly worth a visit for a special night out or a celebration.
Wednesday, 12 March 2008
Gastroporn (or, Why I Want To Be a TV Chef)
It was all over in just one minute. I had expected things to take a bit longer considering his experience, but apparently the creamy substance wouldn’t wait any longer. This lemon curd tart was ready.
“Gastroporn” is a word I first heard used in my anthropology lecture. I can’t actually remember how the lecturer defined it, but I liked the expression so much that I have adopted it to refer to any televised food related show which favours overly enthusiastic presenters, scripted jokes, producers with emotional connections to their food, and a reliance on trivial, insignificant details in order to make a dish sound more complicated than it actually is.
The gratuitous use and abuse of food on our screens is present everywhere; look no further than the primetime slots these sorts of shows are often afforded; much like real porn, gastroporn allows the viewer to substitute actual interaction with the subject matter for an exploitative, illusory relationship with screen bound fantasies of improbably buoyant soufflés and impossibly short cooking times, ever assisted by that magic phrase ‘… and here’s one we prepared earlier…’.
I feel that it's this over-abundance of tv food shows that are ruining our appetite and spoiling our palates when something decent (and hell yes, that means anything starting with Jamie) comes along. Most tv food shows are just repackaging old information, sometimes with a promotion that mentions the associated magazine which jsut happens to be sold in your local supermarket. But that's not what food shows should be about; they should, like sex, be fun, be funny, and be flawed. No one likes to see someone else prepare a perfect dish; it's not human. It was pointed out to me that one of the best things about Hughey's Cooking Adventures is the lack of script, meaning that sometimes he completley forgets to add an ingredient before realising at the end and telling us 'whoops, we'll just throw that in now then'.
Just to clarify and appease the fans out there, Ready Steady Cook escapes this categorization by maintaining an underlying yet tangible sexual tension between the somewhat homophobic French chef Manou and the effeminate and charmingly naïve Peter Everett. But this is also an example of a show where imperfection makes it endearing; despite the blatant Coles product placement, the show manages to keep fresh by choosing contestants that are unfailingly exploiting their five minutes of fame to tell Australia (or at least the dole bludgers, students and pensioners who watch the show), their grandmother's secret recipe/tradition/bunion treatment as part of the 'family origin' approach heavily favoured by the producers of the show in order to inject some personality into these highly made up, overly chatty women.
Rather, the shows that I am referring to all featured on the Lifestyle Channel, and included such delights as a show about fat people having to poo to the satisfaction of a tiny pink-clad dietician. Following this, a huge American lady showed us how to arrange a few morsels for a cocktail party before – get this – flying across the Atlantic to give exactly the same party, with the same food, presumable to reinforce the notion that as long as you’re somewhere civilized, darling, you should be able to manage a bit of pate on a plate without looking like too much of a pleb.
It was the third show that broke me. In the drone of scripted, pre-worked dialogoue, this twenty something, personality-less presenter failed to have any opinions whatsoever during the whole fifteen minute construction period of his eggplant lined mug’o’coucous other than his choice of onions was ‘because he finds them a bit sweeter’.
Foxtel; what’s going on? Even my friend would do a better cooking show, and she lives solely on pasta and cheap tomato sauce, day in, day out. At least she’s got some sort of personality, like the way she bursts into a room shouting ‘No pants!!!’ before proceeding to boil water and heat sauce wearing precious little more than a pair of Bonds and a t-shirt.
Words cannot describe the injustice of the boringest man on the planet getting his own tv show when there are plenty of people out there (and, lets be honest, I include myself in that) willing to replace this guy and his eggplants with the perfect combination of acid sarcasm, proper food that you would actually want to eat and dashing good looks.
Call me Foxtel and give me a show.
“Gastroporn” is a word I first heard used in my anthropology lecture. I can’t actually remember how the lecturer defined it, but I liked the expression so much that I have adopted it to refer to any televised food related show which favours overly enthusiastic presenters, scripted jokes, producers with emotional connections to their food, and a reliance on trivial, insignificant details in order to make a dish sound more complicated than it actually is.
The gratuitous use and abuse of food on our screens is present everywhere; look no further than the primetime slots these sorts of shows are often afforded; much like real porn, gastroporn allows the viewer to substitute actual interaction with the subject matter for an exploitative, illusory relationship with screen bound fantasies of improbably buoyant soufflés and impossibly short cooking times, ever assisted by that magic phrase ‘… and here’s one we prepared earlier…’.
I feel that it's this over-abundance of tv food shows that are ruining our appetite and spoiling our palates when something decent (and hell yes, that means anything starting with Jamie) comes along. Most tv food shows are just repackaging old information, sometimes with a promotion that mentions the associated magazine which jsut happens to be sold in your local supermarket. But that's not what food shows should be about; they should, like sex, be fun, be funny, and be flawed. No one likes to see someone else prepare a perfect dish; it's not human. It was pointed out to me that one of the best things about Hughey's Cooking Adventures is the lack of script, meaning that sometimes he completley forgets to add an ingredient before realising at the end and telling us 'whoops, we'll just throw that in now then'.
Just to clarify and appease the fans out there, Ready Steady Cook escapes this categorization by maintaining an underlying yet tangible sexual tension between the somewhat homophobic French chef Manou and the effeminate and charmingly naïve Peter Everett. But this is also an example of a show where imperfection makes it endearing; despite the blatant Coles product placement, the show manages to keep fresh by choosing contestants that are unfailingly exploiting their five minutes of fame to tell Australia (or at least the dole bludgers, students and pensioners who watch the show), their grandmother's secret recipe/tradition/bunion treatment as part of the 'family origin' approach heavily favoured by the producers of the show in order to inject some personality into these highly made up, overly chatty women.
Rather, the shows that I am referring to all featured on the Lifestyle Channel, and included such delights as a show about fat people having to poo to the satisfaction of a tiny pink-clad dietician. Following this, a huge American lady showed us how to arrange a few morsels for a cocktail party before – get this – flying across the Atlantic to give exactly the same party, with the same food, presumable to reinforce the notion that as long as you’re somewhere civilized, darling, you should be able to manage a bit of pate on a plate without looking like too much of a pleb.
It was the third show that broke me. In the drone of scripted, pre-worked dialogoue, this twenty something, personality-less presenter failed to have any opinions whatsoever during the whole fifteen minute construction period of his eggplant lined mug’o’coucous other than his choice of onions was ‘because he finds them a bit sweeter’.
Foxtel; what’s going on? Even my friend would do a better cooking show, and she lives solely on pasta and cheap tomato sauce, day in, day out. At least she’s got some sort of personality, like the way she bursts into a room shouting ‘No pants!!!’ before proceeding to boil water and heat sauce wearing precious little more than a pair of Bonds and a t-shirt.
Words cannot describe the injustice of the boringest man on the planet getting his own tv show when there are plenty of people out there (and, lets be honest, I include myself in that) willing to replace this guy and his eggplants with the perfect combination of acid sarcasm, proper food that you would actually want to eat and dashing good looks.
Call me Foxtel and give me a show.
Saturday, 8 March 2008
A Note on Couscous
Today in the Weekend Australian food writer David Herbert suggested that 'couscous is the traditional accompaniment' to Moroccan and North African food in general, but more specifically suggested it should be served alongside fish tangine, for which a recipe was placed in this week's edition.
Below is an email that I fired off to him in something of a huff immediatley after reading the article. Perhaps the writer has been informed differently; maybe the rest of North Africa or ever other parts of Morocco DOES see this fluffy grain as nothing more than a side dish, but for now, I suspect that he simply got his facts wrong. I keenly await a reply and will post it here when (or if) it arrives.
Hi David,
I was excited to see a recipe for fish tangine in this week’s Weekend Australian Magazine. I have just returned from Marrakesh where I participated in a cooking school and amongst other things, prepared a wonderful monkfish tangine. However, one of the biggest surprises I had was when the chef told us that Moroccans never eat couscous as an accompaniment to tangine - he told us that it is always a main course in itself and indeed this appeared to be the case in every restaurant we ate in during our time there.
Whenever we ordered a tangine it would be accompanied by plain, flat, chewy Moroccan bread only – not a grain of cous cous in sight. An order for cous cous was a main meal with a big hunk of chicken or other animal creating the protein part of the dish. It wasn’t possible to order it ‘plain’ or as side dish, per se.
On the other hand, in Australia, I understand that cous cous has taken on a ‘side dish’ role in the general scheme of things, so I have not an objection to it being suggested as the accompaniment to the tangine (it being quite difficult, if not impossible to source proper Morcoccan style bread here), but I was hoping to see it mentioned that this isn’t how it is used traditionally in Morocco at least, if not the rest of North Africa.
Thanks for your time. Incidentally, I’m really looking forwards to making the Cinnamon Chicken.
Regards,
Hannah Frank.
Below is an email that I fired off to him in something of a huff immediatley after reading the article. Perhaps the writer has been informed differently; maybe the rest of North Africa or ever other parts of Morocco DOES see this fluffy grain as nothing more than a side dish, but for now, I suspect that he simply got his facts wrong. I keenly await a reply and will post it here when (or if) it arrives.
Hi David,
I was excited to see a recipe for fish tangine in this week’s Weekend Australian Magazine. I have just returned from Marrakesh where I participated in a cooking school and amongst other things, prepared a wonderful monkfish tangine. However, one of the biggest surprises I had was when the chef told us that Moroccans never eat couscous as an accompaniment to tangine - he told us that it is always a main course in itself and indeed this appeared to be the case in every restaurant we ate in during our time there.
Whenever we ordered a tangine it would be accompanied by plain, flat, chewy Moroccan bread only – not a grain of cous cous in sight. An order for cous cous was a main meal with a big hunk of chicken or other animal creating the protein part of the dish. It wasn’t possible to order it ‘plain’ or as side dish, per se.
On the other hand, in Australia, I understand that cous cous has taken on a ‘side dish’ role in the general scheme of things, so I have not an objection to it being suggested as the accompaniment to the tangine (it being quite difficult, if not impossible to source proper Morcoccan style bread here), but I was hoping to see it mentioned that this isn’t how it is used traditionally in Morocco at least, if not the rest of North Africa.
Thanks for your time. Incidentally, I’m really looking forwards to making the Cinnamon Chicken.
Regards,
Hannah Frank.
Monday, 25 February 2008
Campus Cuisine @ Adelaide Uni
Finding decent, cheap food at uni can be a tough gig even for the
initiated - but there's one place you're always sure to get some of the good
stuff - and unlike Mayo pasta, it won't leave you with alarming case of
explosive bowel.
The Basics - Locating food on campus used to be easy. First, you checked
whether your Centrelink had gone in, and then headed to the Unibar or the Mayo
accordingly. If you were a student politician, in the Choral Society or just
lucky enough to have some cash you'd head to Rumours for some kind of wacky
psuedo-fusion dish (although that lamb yiros pizza really hung on till the
end, eh?)
Now in 2008 Union control of these outlets is a thing of the past, and the
door for tertiary tucker has been flung wide open. But there's no need to head
to the DJ's food court and eat some souless, battery chicken in your lecture
break: we have some great places to eat right here on campus if you know where
to look, and the pinnacle of this campus cusine is student food stalls.
These range from the plethora of fundraiser bbqs for clubs and sports to more
specific celebrations and events that a given society might be throwing. It
basically involves a bunch of people setting up shop for a day on the Barr
Smith Lawns or in the Cloisters and flogging whatever they can to raise a bit
of cash for their cause. Everyone's welcome to these but some clubs also hold
after hours bashes just for their members. Having said that, on more than one
occaision I have scored platters of free snages, jugs of beer and even free
tshirts from the Engineering Society just by pretending to be someone who
should actually be there. Don't try it too often though lest you end up
wrapped from head to toe in GladWrap, smothered in Nutella and whipped cream
like my...ummmm...friend... once did.
The International Students - If you see 'em setting up a stall early in the
day for their country's national/independence/whatever day, by 12pm there will
be a long line of punters who have been lured by tantalizing aromas from their
lecture theatres, queing up to mung into some of the best food you're going to
get on campus. Noodles, delicious things wrapped in pastry, spicy curries, a
wobbly dessert in five coloured layers, sticky biscuits - it's a proverbial
chocolate box.
Be warned though: Sometimes you hit on a bunch who have more sinister
intentions for you, like the Evangelical Union (EU) which is known to hand out
free noodles only to relegade you into one of their bible talks in the union
cinema - not a problem if you're into that kind of thing, I spose. Watch for
Godless (the atheist club) who do their bit for counter-culture by setting up
shop whenever the EU do, and hand out 'No thanks, I'm an atheist' stickers
along with their rather generous vegie burgers.
If you need to raise a bit of cash for a cause, club or society this year, you
can actually set up your own food stall or bbq through the union (AUU). For
fifty bucks they will give you a bbq, gas and permission to use a space like
the cloisters where you can sell your wares to hungry students. Standard
prices are around $1 per snag, but if you're cooking up something exotic then
$5 for a plateful of goodness wouldn't be unreasonable. The AUU can also lend
you trestle tables and even a PA to crank out some tunes. I've run countless
BBQ's and food stalls at Adelaide and to date there hasn't been a dud one yet,
mainly because they're hard to cock up, *yes, cock up, not cook up - that
bit's easy - and rarely a failure due to the rather inexplicable popularity of
a bit of bread wrapped around a greasy sausage with a dollop of sauce.
Last of all, a word on some specific events that may masquerade as student
food stalls but are something else altogether. The first is energy soft drink
promotions, which happen on campus occaisionally. Do as you will in consuming
it, but if you wear their ridiculous cardboard or otherwise attire (this means
hats, wristbands and t-shirts) then rest assure you ain't going to pick up
anytime soon. Take it all off, fools, or expect me to do it for you. On the
other hand, attendance at the Engineering Society BBQ's, which are free for
members with all you can eat and drink bbq and beer, it's well worth signing
up to the club in O'Week. The Engie Pub Crawl is also famous for attracting up
to 1000 students for one massive night out, but once again, wearing the t-
shirt around campus after the occaision indelibly labels you as an engineer,
which again limits your chances with the ladies to a significant extent. But i
digress. Look out for Spaced, the physics club, who often run bbq's at the top
of the barr smith stairs. There's a guy who looks EXACTLY like jesus who is
always there. Awesome.
So there y'are - the lowdown on REAL student food, which is by students, for
students, and thus infinitley better for your cheap arse. Get your teeth into
some today.
Sunday, 18 November 2007
Gay? You can stay - as long as you like Madonna.
Political and religious refugees have long been part of the Australian political landscape but now a new class of asylum seekers has put the Refugee Review Tribunal in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons. HANNAH FRANK reports.
While Adelaide celebrates sexual diversity at this year’s Feast Festival, homosexuality remains a crime in 77 countries where gay men and lesbians face penalties from flogging to prison and even the death sentenceProgress is slow. In China sodomy was decriminalized in 1997, but homosexuality was still considered to be a mental disorder until 2001.
Refugees who identify themselves as gay and lesbian fleeing persecution can apply for humanitarian visas in more liberal countries like Australia, but despite the well-documented discrimination, harassment and violence that they have often endured the success rate for claims based on sexuality is low. Between 1994 and 2000 only 26% of gay men and just 7% of lesbian applicants for refugee status were granted a visa.
These findings were published in a study by Jenni Millbank, who is the Professor of Law at the University of Technology in Sydney a widely published expert in refugee law. She says the figures reflect the difficulty of being recognized as a refugee on the basis of sexuality in Australia. So why is it so hard getting here when you’re queer?
Those who come to Australia seeking asylum as refugees under the humanitarian visa program for any reason face a grueling series of assessments including the Refugee Review Tribunal (RRT) before their application can be accepted or rejected. It is this body, the group of final decision makers for the visa program, who have been put in the spotlight for their approach to sexuality claims after the case of Ali Humayun, a 26-year-old Pakistani Christian who was denied a visa after the RRT judged that his homosexuality was a result of his detention in Australia.
Humayun, who said that he feared for his life if he returned home, identified himself as bisexual before entering a relationship with Julio Lorenzo, a 41 year old Spanish citizen, at the detention center in 2006. The judgment rejected Humayun’s claim on the basis of inconsistent evidence, saying that his relationship with Lorenzo was ‘simply a product of the situation, where only partners of the same sex are available…[it] says nothing about his sexual orientation’. Humayun had already told the tribunal that his father had threatened to kill him if he returned home to Pakistan. Interest groups labeled the deicion as ‘homophobic’ and held vigils as part of International Day Against Homophobia.
The central task of the RRT is determining the credibility of the applicants, in other words, whether they really are gay or not. Though the RRT no longer uses the invasive and humiliating techniques of penile plethysmography or anal examinations to determine whether an applicant is gay, before June 2007 members of the RRT had no sexuality training despite making hundreds of determinations which saw visa applicants rejected or accepted based solely on this issue.
This has led to the application of highly generalized, inappropriate stereotypes to determine an applicant’s claim, according to Millbank. This was highlighted in a case where an Iranian asylum seeker, claiming to be gay and in fear of his life if he returned home was quizzed by an RRT member whether he admired Madonna, and what he thought of the work of Oscar Wilde.
When he replied that he had no idea what they were talking about, the member told him that he obviously not gay, because he couldn’t relate to any gay icons. But the case went to the High Court and it was determined that the line of questioning was appropriate in the circumstances. The assumption that an Iranian should identify with gay Western icons was troubling for Millbank and refugee advocacy groups who had supported the case.
How you determine homosexuality is central to the problem, says Millbank. “The decision-makers’ understanding of what homosexuality is and how it is and ought to be expressed is… vital in the decision making process”.
In an article for the Australian Gay and Lesbian Law Journal lawyer Karen Walker says that for applicants who apply for refuge on the basis of their sexuality, they have to make their sexual identity fit in with the pre-conceived ideas that the members of the RRT have about what being a homosexual is. “What such a claim requires is that the individual concerned present [themselves] to the immigration authorities in a way that is cognizable and acceptable to those authorities”.
A landmark decision in 2003 has since given the issue more weight after the High Court considered the case of a gay Bangladeshi couple who had arrived in Australia in 1999 seeking refugee after being sentenced to death by stoning by a religious council in their home country.
The significance of the decision centered on the judgment which indicated that sexual orientation could be considered a ‘social group’ under the international convention on refugees. The barrister for the men, Bruce Levet said the decision would have an impact on jurisprudence around the world.
"It's the first time anywhere in the world that a final appellant court of a country has considered a refugee claim based on the grounds of sexual orientation. Not only is it a statement of what the law is in Australia, but because refugee decision makers around the world look at each other's rulings very closely, it's got a huge potential to influence decision making and jurisprudence in all countries which receive refugees”.
The key issue in this case was discretion, and whether the men could have avoided persecution had they been discreet about their relationship. It’s a consideration that has long been employed by the RRT to determine whether the applicant would indeed suffer persecution if they returned home, and thus, their eligibility for a humanitarian visa. But in his winning appeal Levet argued that the approach was unfair, comparing it to Anne Frank’s story during World War Two.
“To say to a homosexual: ‘Be discreet about it, you'll be all right', was about the equivalent of saying to Anne Frank if she turned up to Australia: 'Go back to your attic . . .keep hiding and you'll be OK’”.
But this has been the ruling on many of the claims that have already passed through the RRT, with applicants forced to return to their home countries and, often from family members and police officers.
According to a submission to the Equal Opportunity and Human Rights Commission by the Alternative Life Styles Organisation, this has meant that homosexuals who have been denied refugee status in Australia have been forced to live secret lives in their home countries and are treated differently to other classes of refugees, who are protected when they express their beliefs.
But for some applicants ‘discretion’ is only achievable through celibacy. In one case involving a Chinese lesbian applicant who had been rejected by her family and harassed by authorities, a visa was denied on the basis that if she didn’t have any sexual partners then she wouldn’t have harassed.
The RRT saw this as an acceptable resolution. But for those who wish to express their sexual identity and enter same sex relationships, keeping secret can be difficult. If discovered, many face threatened and actual violence, harassment and even execution, from family members but also religious fundamentalists sometimes police.
The High Court case challenged this process after an appeal was sought for the two Bangladeshi men who had been told that they, similarly to other applicants, could have avoided persecution if they had been discreet about their relationship.
In an ABC interview for the Law Report in June 2007, Millbank explained the decision of the RRT and the impact it would have on the way that the RRT determines claims.
“What the case said was, 'Well, first of all the Australian system cannot impose or require that [discretion] of anyone; it's not the place of the [Refugee Review Tribunal] to tell people how to live their lives; the role of the process is to ask the question: How will you live your life? And why, if you have lived a life of secrecy, why have you done so? And if you've done so because of terrible risks or really significant fears, then does that rise to the level of persecution as defined by the Refugees Convention?'
And the High Court very powerfully said there's so many more components to a gay identity which may include expression of that identity through having a same-sex partner, through living with them, through wanting to have a social life in which you mix with people who are also gay, and express that aspect of your life in a really wide range of ways, that go far beyond a simple sexual act.”
So whilst applicants now have a slightly better chance of succeeding in their claims for a visa, the RRT continues to be plagued by attacks on their so-called ‘independent’ sources of information which are used to discredit applicants.
Government cables from the Department of Trade and Foreign Affairs were used in 48% of cases between 1994-2004, but they have been proven wrong. One said that homosexuality is not illegal in Bangladesh It is. Millbank found that where DFAT evidence was used, almost 90% of applicants were unsuccessful – more than double the general fail rate of refugee applicants.
More troubling perhaps is the use of gay travel magazine ‘Sparatacus’ by the RRT as a source of law. Because the RRT is not bound by the normal rules of evidence, which would make the system unusable due to the reliance on verbal testimony from applicants, members can use sources of information that would never be permitted in a normal court of law.
Between 1994-2000 the magazine, which is a tourist publication filled with advertisements featuring naked and half naked men, was used as a source of law in 26 cases. Despite being publication especially for gay men, Millbank says the RRT also found no qualms in applying the information it contained to lesbian applicants.
She says in one 1999 case from Columbia citing venue listings for porn cinemas and bath houses as evidence that the two women would not suffer persecution if they returned back to their country. It’s enough to incense legal experts like Millbank. “There is no logical reason to think that any lesbian should know where to find a gay men's bath house”. In every case where Spartacus was applied to lesbian applicants in the six-year study, they lost.
All in all, the RRT clearly still struggles to cope with the concept of sexuality as the basis for refugee claims, but the upside of the many cases in which vias have been denied is that flaws in the system have allowed expers like Millbank to embark on campaigns to change things for the better.
In June 2007 after the RRT rejected the application of 26-year old Ali Humayun’s visa on the basis of his ‘situational homosexuality’, the ABC reported that the RRT had confirmed it’s ‘commitment to developing sexuality training for its members’ after Greens Senator Kerry Nettle took up the issue with Principal Member Steve Karas AO at a Senate Estimates Committee meeting.
However at November 2007 the RRT website still maintains the Guidance on the Assessment of Credibility - October 2006 as the manual to determining claims for refugee status. No part includes any mention of sexuality of guidelines for determining claims based on sexual orientation. Clearly, progress for recognition of gay and lesbian rights is not only slow in developing countries like China.
Australia still has a long way to go in terms of its support systems for refugees and issues like mandatory detention will continue to occupy much of the current debate on refugee issues. The High Court decision offers some limited hope for applicants in specific situations but more broadly the indicators point to a continual under-representation of refugees granted a visa on the basis of their sexual orientation.
The decisions that the RRT makes in their day-to-day dealings can be the difference between a life of relative freedom and one of fear, but it remains to be seen if RRT members will be given enough tools to make accurate and fair determinations on the lives of refugee applicants. But if this happens and politicians, interest groups and government work together towards a new system, maybe one day gay and lesbian refugees will stand alongside other loud and proud performers at the Feast Festival and tell their own stories in newfound pride and freedom.
While Adelaide celebrates sexual diversity at this year’s Feast Festival, homosexuality remains a crime in 77 countries where gay men and lesbians face penalties from flogging to prison and even the death sentenceProgress is slow. In China sodomy was decriminalized in 1997, but homosexuality was still considered to be a mental disorder until 2001.
Refugees who identify themselves as gay and lesbian fleeing persecution can apply for humanitarian visas in more liberal countries like Australia, but despite the well-documented discrimination, harassment and violence that they have often endured the success rate for claims based on sexuality is low. Between 1994 and 2000 only 26% of gay men and just 7% of lesbian applicants for refugee status were granted a visa.
These findings were published in a study by Jenni Millbank, who is the Professor of Law at the University of Technology in Sydney a widely published expert in refugee law. She says the figures reflect the difficulty of being recognized as a refugee on the basis of sexuality in Australia. So why is it so hard getting here when you’re queer?
Those who come to Australia seeking asylum as refugees under the humanitarian visa program for any reason face a grueling series of assessments including the Refugee Review Tribunal (RRT) before their application can be accepted or rejected. It is this body, the group of final decision makers for the visa program, who have been put in the spotlight for their approach to sexuality claims after the case of Ali Humayun, a 26-year-old Pakistani Christian who was denied a visa after the RRT judged that his homosexuality was a result of his detention in Australia.
Humayun, who said that he feared for his life if he returned home, identified himself as bisexual before entering a relationship with Julio Lorenzo, a 41 year old Spanish citizen, at the detention center in 2006. The judgment rejected Humayun’s claim on the basis of inconsistent evidence, saying that his relationship with Lorenzo was ‘simply a product of the situation, where only partners of the same sex are available…[it] says nothing about his sexual orientation’. Humayun had already told the tribunal that his father had threatened to kill him if he returned home to Pakistan. Interest groups labeled the deicion as ‘homophobic’ and held vigils as part of International Day Against Homophobia.
The central task of the RRT is determining the credibility of the applicants, in other words, whether they really are gay or not. Though the RRT no longer uses the invasive and humiliating techniques of penile plethysmography or anal examinations to determine whether an applicant is gay, before June 2007 members of the RRT had no sexuality training despite making hundreds of determinations which saw visa applicants rejected or accepted based solely on this issue.
This has led to the application of highly generalized, inappropriate stereotypes to determine an applicant’s claim, according to Millbank. This was highlighted in a case where an Iranian asylum seeker, claiming to be gay and in fear of his life if he returned home was quizzed by an RRT member whether he admired Madonna, and what he thought of the work of Oscar Wilde.
When he replied that he had no idea what they were talking about, the member told him that he obviously not gay, because he couldn’t relate to any gay icons. But the case went to the High Court and it was determined that the line of questioning was appropriate in the circumstances. The assumption that an Iranian should identify with gay Western icons was troubling for Millbank and refugee advocacy groups who had supported the case.
How you determine homosexuality is central to the problem, says Millbank. “The decision-makers’ understanding of what homosexuality is and how it is and ought to be expressed is… vital in the decision making process”.
In an article for the Australian Gay and Lesbian Law Journal lawyer Karen Walker says that for applicants who apply for refuge on the basis of their sexuality, they have to make their sexual identity fit in with the pre-conceived ideas that the members of the RRT have about what being a homosexual is. “What such a claim requires is that the individual concerned present [themselves] to the immigration authorities in a way that is cognizable and acceptable to those authorities”.
A landmark decision in 2003 has since given the issue more weight after the High Court considered the case of a gay Bangladeshi couple who had arrived in Australia in 1999 seeking refugee after being sentenced to death by stoning by a religious council in their home country.
The significance of the decision centered on the judgment which indicated that sexual orientation could be considered a ‘social group’ under the international convention on refugees. The barrister for the men, Bruce Levet said the decision would have an impact on jurisprudence around the world.
"It's the first time anywhere in the world that a final appellant court of a country has considered a refugee claim based on the grounds of sexual orientation. Not only is it a statement of what the law is in Australia, but because refugee decision makers around the world look at each other's rulings very closely, it's got a huge potential to influence decision making and jurisprudence in all countries which receive refugees”.
The key issue in this case was discretion, and whether the men could have avoided persecution had they been discreet about their relationship. It’s a consideration that has long been employed by the RRT to determine whether the applicant would indeed suffer persecution if they returned home, and thus, their eligibility for a humanitarian visa. But in his winning appeal Levet argued that the approach was unfair, comparing it to Anne Frank’s story during World War Two.
“To say to a homosexual: ‘Be discreet about it, you'll be all right', was about the equivalent of saying to Anne Frank if she turned up to Australia: 'Go back to your attic . . .keep hiding and you'll be OK’”.
But this has been the ruling on many of the claims that have already passed through the RRT, with applicants forced to return to their home countries and, often from family members and police officers.
According to a submission to the Equal Opportunity and Human Rights Commission by the Alternative Life Styles Organisation, this has meant that homosexuals who have been denied refugee status in Australia have been forced to live secret lives in their home countries and are treated differently to other classes of refugees, who are protected when they express their beliefs.
But for some applicants ‘discretion’ is only achievable through celibacy. In one case involving a Chinese lesbian applicant who had been rejected by her family and harassed by authorities, a visa was denied on the basis that if she didn’t have any sexual partners then she wouldn’t have harassed.
The RRT saw this as an acceptable resolution. But for those who wish to express their sexual identity and enter same sex relationships, keeping secret can be difficult. If discovered, many face threatened and actual violence, harassment and even execution, from family members but also religious fundamentalists sometimes police.
The High Court case challenged this process after an appeal was sought for the two Bangladeshi men who had been told that they, similarly to other applicants, could have avoided persecution if they had been discreet about their relationship.
In an ABC interview for the Law Report in June 2007, Millbank explained the decision of the RRT and the impact it would have on the way that the RRT determines claims.
“What the case said was, 'Well, first of all the Australian system cannot impose or require that [discretion] of anyone; it's not the place of the [Refugee Review Tribunal] to tell people how to live their lives; the role of the process is to ask the question: How will you live your life? And why, if you have lived a life of secrecy, why have you done so? And if you've done so because of terrible risks or really significant fears, then does that rise to the level of persecution as defined by the Refugees Convention?'
And the High Court very powerfully said there's so many more components to a gay identity which may include expression of that identity through having a same-sex partner, through living with them, through wanting to have a social life in which you mix with people who are also gay, and express that aspect of your life in a really wide range of ways, that go far beyond a simple sexual act.”
So whilst applicants now have a slightly better chance of succeeding in their claims for a visa, the RRT continues to be plagued by attacks on their so-called ‘independent’ sources of information which are used to discredit applicants.
Government cables from the Department of Trade and Foreign Affairs were used in 48% of cases between 1994-2004, but they have been proven wrong. One said that homosexuality is not illegal in Bangladesh It is. Millbank found that where DFAT evidence was used, almost 90% of applicants were unsuccessful – more than double the general fail rate of refugee applicants.
More troubling perhaps is the use of gay travel magazine ‘Sparatacus’ by the RRT as a source of law. Because the RRT is not bound by the normal rules of evidence, which would make the system unusable due to the reliance on verbal testimony from applicants, members can use sources of information that would never be permitted in a normal court of law.
Between 1994-2000 the magazine, which is a tourist publication filled with advertisements featuring naked and half naked men, was used as a source of law in 26 cases. Despite being publication especially for gay men, Millbank says the RRT also found no qualms in applying the information it contained to lesbian applicants.
She says in one 1999 case from Columbia citing venue listings for porn cinemas and bath houses as evidence that the two women would not suffer persecution if they returned back to their country. It’s enough to incense legal experts like Millbank. “There is no logical reason to think that any lesbian should know where to find a gay men's bath house”. In every case where Spartacus was applied to lesbian applicants in the six-year study, they lost.
All in all, the RRT clearly still struggles to cope with the concept of sexuality as the basis for refugee claims, but the upside of the many cases in which vias have been denied is that flaws in the system have allowed expers like Millbank to embark on campaigns to change things for the better.
In June 2007 after the RRT rejected the application of 26-year old Ali Humayun’s visa on the basis of his ‘situational homosexuality’, the ABC reported that the RRT had confirmed it’s ‘commitment to developing sexuality training for its members’ after Greens Senator Kerry Nettle took up the issue with Principal Member Steve Karas AO at a Senate Estimates Committee meeting.
However at November 2007 the RRT website still maintains the Guidance on the Assessment of Credibility - October 2006 as the manual to determining claims for refugee status. No part includes any mention of sexuality of guidelines for determining claims based on sexual orientation. Clearly, progress for recognition of gay and lesbian rights is not only slow in developing countries like China.
Australia still has a long way to go in terms of its support systems for refugees and issues like mandatory detention will continue to occupy much of the current debate on refugee issues. The High Court decision offers some limited hope for applicants in specific situations but more broadly the indicators point to a continual under-representation of refugees granted a visa on the basis of their sexual orientation.
The decisions that the RRT makes in their day-to-day dealings can be the difference between a life of relative freedom and one of fear, but it remains to be seen if RRT members will be given enough tools to make accurate and fair determinations on the lives of refugee applicants. But if this happens and politicians, interest groups and government work together towards a new system, maybe one day gay and lesbian refugees will stand alongside other loud and proud performers at the Feast Festival and tell their own stories in newfound pride and freedom.
Friday, 5 October 2007
United for Peace
While the Middle East continues to form the backdrop to religious conflict and play stage to US foreign policy, a group of young Adelaide professionals are uniting to show us that interfaith peace is possible, as HANNAH FRANK reports.
It’s well past a respectable closing hour on a Tuesday night when I pull up to the Digimob phone shop in Pultney Street; the last customer left hours ago but the lights are still shining through the showroom windows into the street. I’m here to catch the end of a committee meeting for new not for profit organisation United for Peace. After dark, the store has been transformed into a theatre for animated debate between the committee of Shi’ite and Sunni Muslims, Orthodox, Catholic and Maronite Christians and Druze members, who form a ‘mini-UN’ as they sit on a mix of office chairs and armchairs around the perimeter of the showroom.
Well into their agenda items when I arrive through the back door, it’s clear this dispute has nothing to do with religion. Instead, the committee is debating the performance fee for a well known Lebanese singer, who they are flying from interstate for the next United for Peace fundraiser. This is no small event; talk of television advertising, contracts and media coverage fills the room as each person volunteers their time to contribute to the project. In the Middle East, where religious segregation and cultural conflict form part of everyday life, such a scene of interfaith dialogue and cooperation is a long way from realized.
United for Peace formed last year after the 2006 Lebanon War, which saw a 34 day military conflict between Lebanon and northern Israel end in more than 1000 mainly Lebanese deaths and displaced more than 1.5 million people. It was the result of fighting between Hezbollah militants and Israeli forces; after the kidnapping of two Israeli soldiers the country sought to enforce air and naval blockades against Lebanon whilst inflicting massive airstrikes which damaged the international airport in Beirut as well as much civilian infrastructure. More than 1.5 million people, approximately two thirds of whom were Lebanese, were displaced. Both Lebanon and Israel supported a United Nations resolution to end the conflict on 11 August and the ceasefire came into effect on 14 August.
Set up to educate Australia about the the complex political, cultural and social issues in the Middle East, United for Peace also aims to provide financial aid to the region through fundraising events. Sitting next to me at the meeting is Faten Shahin, a 20 year old university student and a ‘full Palestinian’. Last year her relatives in Lebanon were devastated by the war along with thousands of other families. ‘My dad’s nephews have a plastic company where they manufacture all the plastic equipment for hospitals, like IV tubes. That whole company got destroyed and it cost them about $20million dollars. Now they’ve started to rebuild it, but just a fraction, just one [production] line, not twenty. They had to start again from scratch…each person is affected in different ways’.
The chair of the organisation is Houssam Abiad, who at 31 is the CEO of Digimob, which he proudly tells me is the second largest mobile phone repair company in Australia; this is his shop. He’s also got a double degree in biomedical science with honors, and is currently studying for an MBA. There’s no shortage of qualifications on the UFP committee; at tonight’s meeting there’s also Hala Abokamil, 26, a graduate psychologist ‘but still kind of attached to uni at the moment’, and Heba Najjar, 22, who has a double degree in Health Science and Social Science. She is currently studying for a Masters of Audiology. Among the other committee members are a property developer, a lawyer, several business owners, and more than a handful of management and finance students.
The strength of the committee in business and finance has obviously served United for Peace well. In just over a year, UFP has raised more than $10,000 for a variety of organisations, including a recent quiz night which attracted more than 100 people in support of the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund. Faten considers the night her favourite moment so far in the short life of the organisation. ‘I was put up to be MC –they know I hate public speaking! So when they put me up for it I was a nervous wreck, but once I did the intro it was fine’.
Other events have included a 600-strong concert with famous Lebanese singer Ramy Ayash as well as highly successful film nights, bowling and karaoke fundraisers and participation in the Government funded ‘Bringing Communities Together’ event in Rundle Mall. This in particular is the kind of event UFP seeks to participate in. Hala cites this as one of the most important activities for United for Peace, most importantly because it allowed the public to interact with Muslim people and see that they aren’t so different.
It hasn’t always been easy to fulfill that goal. ‘I think a lot of the events that we do we tend to attract the converted anyway – which is great that our family and friends come and support us, and we get such a great level of support from the Lebanese community – we wouldn’t be where we are right now without it – but I think the best thing for us to do is to get out there and reach out to the wider Australian community, and get our message across and let them know what’s going on. You know, make them more informed… we wouldnt just want to make ourselves a cause for the Lebanese people or the Middle Eastern Community, we want to be a cause for everyone.’
This task is undoubtedly made more difficult in the current political climate post-September 11 and the Iraq War, where foreign governments and the media have invariably linked the phrase ‘Middle East’ with Islamic fundamentalism, dictatorships and terrorism. But Hala has a surprising assessment of the influence of US foreign policy on the portrayal of Middle Easterners. “I wouldn’t fault the agendas of any certain governments”. It seems odd that this intelligent and well spoken woman would hesitate to acknowledge the vilification the Middle East has suffered, so when I press her about the influence of media on Middle Eastern stereotypes, she admits that her position has more to do with her self-critical nature than any desire to validate US foreign policy.
‘I will acknowledge that [the media have made it more difficult] but at the same time I will fault the Middle Eastern community and say: “Why aren’t we going out there and presenting a positive image of ourselves to counteract what’s going on?” Personally, I think we do a very poor job of that. We have a very long way to go in presenting a good image. I don’t know why we let certain media organisations run away with that stereotype that they’re trying to paint of Middle Eastern people… I think we need to get a bit more organized and get involved in the community. You just have to appeal to people’s humanity, and make them understand that the value of a child in Palestine is as great as the value of a person who died in September 11.’
Ranim Kaddoura, one of the youngest committee members at 18, was in Saudi Arabia when September 11 happened. Being in an Arabic country rather than a Western one, ‘I didn’t feel it as much. When I came to Australia, I had my headscarf on. Some of my family members were quite concerned before we came here, and they thought “careful, discrimination”. But I am quite surprised and very pleased to say that I have not been bothered by anyone. Everyone’s been very understanding. I just think that the way you treat people reflects on the way you are treated, and I haven’t had any difficulties with it.
Like most people on the committee, Ranim, now a first year university student studying food science has complex ties back to the Middle East. ‘I was born in Saudi Arabia, although I’m Palestinian, but in the Middle East it doesn’t work that way. We came here in 1995, got the citizenship and then went back to Lebanon’. On her return to Australia following a series of moves around the Middle East ‘it was because of my Dad’s work’ she got involved in United for Peace when the 2006 Lebanon War broke out. ‘I really wanted to do something to help…the only thing that I could do personally was to contact Mars chocolate fundraising and I started selling that chocolate. One of the places that I selling it was at a Flinders [University] lecture by Dr David Palmer and Houssam [Abiad] was there and he saw me and asked me if I wanted to get involved’.
Sitting in his office after the meeting, I ask Houssam about his vision for the organization. ‘Obviously we’re a very young organisation… what I’d like to see is something that is beyond me. I might not be around to see it, but I think my ultimate goal at the end of the day is, living in Australia we must all be Australians.’ The statement seems an ill fitting answer to the question, but it’s obviously something he feels need to be said, so I drop the line of questioning and ask him what he means by ‘being Australian’. ‘To me? It means opportunity. It means freedom of speech, freedom of thought…having the ability to express myself at any time of the day without having to feel fear…without having to feel inhibitions.’ His words remind me that many Arab-Australians now feel more pressure to prove themselves as ‘’fair dinkum” Australians, especially after some gave the rest a bad name at the 2005 Cronulla riots.
Heba has experienced the feeling, too. ‘I’ve had to justify myself in a number of situations. Although I’m not Muslim I still have attachments to the Middle East. A lot of people would make assumptions of what my stance was on certain situations. On the other hand, it’s made me think twice about how I look at other people and races. There are extremes in all cultures. You have to give people the benefit of the doubt’.
But personal identity takes a backseat here: more important is the task at hand, developing the policies and direction of United for Peace. Houssam tells me that it is ‘completely apolitical’, and ‘purely humanitarian’, but at present their fundraising channels seem to have a heavy bias towards Lebanese and Palestinian interests. It’s a young organisation but from the outside, the partiality seems to work in noticeable contrast to their mission statement of impartiality.
So does that mean United for Peace, whose committee members are ‘mainly Lebanese and Palestinian’ according to Ranim, would raise money for an Israeli cause? ‘Absolutely’, says Houssam. ‘In fact, just recently Anthony Loewenstein came down and talked’. However, the fact that the Sydney based author of ‘My Israel Question’ is Jewish is not enough. His book has been criticized for being ‘overwhelmingly pro-Palestinian’, and containing ‘aggressive public criticisms of the state of Israel’. These comments formed part of a review in the Sydney Morning Herald written by Philip Mendes, a senior lecturer in social policy at Monash University. Mendes also suggested that Loewenstein ‘depicts the Palestinians as largely defenceless and innocent victims and provides only limited discussion of the long history of Palestinian hatred for and violence towards Israel’.
Given these comments, United for Peace may need to make a more concerted effort in order to avoid being seen as taking a political stance; fundraising on a broader scale and the inclusion of some Jewish committee members could all go a long way to achieving the objective of the organisation. This perhaps, more than anything, would ensure there is a true representation and balance within the group. In the meantime United for Peace continue to build a very important organisation and with a savvy, professional and enthusiastic team, they look set for success in achieving the interfaith and intercultural dialogue that they have set out to accomplish.
It’s well past a respectable closing hour on a Tuesday night when I pull up to the Digimob phone shop in Pultney Street; the last customer left hours ago but the lights are still shining through the showroom windows into the street. I’m here to catch the end of a committee meeting for new not for profit organisation United for Peace. After dark, the store has been transformed into a theatre for animated debate between the committee of Shi’ite and Sunni Muslims, Orthodox, Catholic and Maronite Christians and Druze members, who form a ‘mini-UN’ as they sit on a mix of office chairs and armchairs around the perimeter of the showroom.
Well into their agenda items when I arrive through the back door, it’s clear this dispute has nothing to do with religion. Instead, the committee is debating the performance fee for a well known Lebanese singer, who they are flying from interstate for the next United for Peace fundraiser. This is no small event; talk of television advertising, contracts and media coverage fills the room as each person volunteers their time to contribute to the project. In the Middle East, where religious segregation and cultural conflict form part of everyday life, such a scene of interfaith dialogue and cooperation is a long way from realized.
United for Peace formed last year after the 2006 Lebanon War, which saw a 34 day military conflict between Lebanon and northern Israel end in more than 1000 mainly Lebanese deaths and displaced more than 1.5 million people. It was the result of fighting between Hezbollah militants and Israeli forces; after the kidnapping of two Israeli soldiers the country sought to enforce air and naval blockades against Lebanon whilst inflicting massive airstrikes which damaged the international airport in Beirut as well as much civilian infrastructure. More than 1.5 million people, approximately two thirds of whom were Lebanese, were displaced. Both Lebanon and Israel supported a United Nations resolution to end the conflict on 11 August and the ceasefire came into effect on 14 August.
Set up to educate Australia about the the complex political, cultural and social issues in the Middle East, United for Peace also aims to provide financial aid to the region through fundraising events. Sitting next to me at the meeting is Faten Shahin, a 20 year old university student and a ‘full Palestinian’. Last year her relatives in Lebanon were devastated by the war along with thousands of other families. ‘My dad’s nephews have a plastic company where they manufacture all the plastic equipment for hospitals, like IV tubes. That whole company got destroyed and it cost them about $20million dollars. Now they’ve started to rebuild it, but just a fraction, just one [production] line, not twenty. They had to start again from scratch…each person is affected in different ways’.
The chair of the organisation is Houssam Abiad, who at 31 is the CEO of Digimob, which he proudly tells me is the second largest mobile phone repair company in Australia; this is his shop. He’s also got a double degree in biomedical science with honors, and is currently studying for an MBA. There’s no shortage of qualifications on the UFP committee; at tonight’s meeting there’s also Hala Abokamil, 26, a graduate psychologist ‘but still kind of attached to uni at the moment’, and Heba Najjar, 22, who has a double degree in Health Science and Social Science. She is currently studying for a Masters of Audiology. Among the other committee members are a property developer, a lawyer, several business owners, and more than a handful of management and finance students.
The strength of the committee in business and finance has obviously served United for Peace well. In just over a year, UFP has raised more than $10,000 for a variety of organisations, including a recent quiz night which attracted more than 100 people in support of the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund. Faten considers the night her favourite moment so far in the short life of the organisation. ‘I was put up to be MC –they know I hate public speaking! So when they put me up for it I was a nervous wreck, but once I did the intro it was fine’.
Other events have included a 600-strong concert with famous Lebanese singer Ramy Ayash as well as highly successful film nights, bowling and karaoke fundraisers and participation in the Government funded ‘Bringing Communities Together’ event in Rundle Mall. This in particular is the kind of event UFP seeks to participate in. Hala cites this as one of the most important activities for United for Peace, most importantly because it allowed the public to interact with Muslim people and see that they aren’t so different.
It hasn’t always been easy to fulfill that goal. ‘I think a lot of the events that we do we tend to attract the converted anyway – which is great that our family and friends come and support us, and we get such a great level of support from the Lebanese community – we wouldn’t be where we are right now without it – but I think the best thing for us to do is to get out there and reach out to the wider Australian community, and get our message across and let them know what’s going on. You know, make them more informed… we wouldnt just want to make ourselves a cause for the Lebanese people or the Middle Eastern Community, we want to be a cause for everyone.’
This task is undoubtedly made more difficult in the current political climate post-September 11 and the Iraq War, where foreign governments and the media have invariably linked the phrase ‘Middle East’ with Islamic fundamentalism, dictatorships and terrorism. But Hala has a surprising assessment of the influence of US foreign policy on the portrayal of Middle Easterners. “I wouldn’t fault the agendas of any certain governments”. It seems odd that this intelligent and well spoken woman would hesitate to acknowledge the vilification the Middle East has suffered, so when I press her about the influence of media on Middle Eastern stereotypes, she admits that her position has more to do with her self-critical nature than any desire to validate US foreign policy.
‘I will acknowledge that [the media have made it more difficult] but at the same time I will fault the Middle Eastern community and say: “Why aren’t we going out there and presenting a positive image of ourselves to counteract what’s going on?” Personally, I think we do a very poor job of that. We have a very long way to go in presenting a good image. I don’t know why we let certain media organisations run away with that stereotype that they’re trying to paint of Middle Eastern people… I think we need to get a bit more organized and get involved in the community. You just have to appeal to people’s humanity, and make them understand that the value of a child in Palestine is as great as the value of a person who died in September 11.’
Ranim Kaddoura, one of the youngest committee members at 18, was in Saudi Arabia when September 11 happened. Being in an Arabic country rather than a Western one, ‘I didn’t feel it as much. When I came to Australia, I had my headscarf on. Some of my family members were quite concerned before we came here, and they thought “careful, discrimination”. But I am quite surprised and very pleased to say that I have not been bothered by anyone. Everyone’s been very understanding. I just think that the way you treat people reflects on the way you are treated, and I haven’t had any difficulties with it.
Like most people on the committee, Ranim, now a first year university student studying food science has complex ties back to the Middle East. ‘I was born in Saudi Arabia, although I’m Palestinian, but in the Middle East it doesn’t work that way. We came here in 1995, got the citizenship and then went back to Lebanon’. On her return to Australia following a series of moves around the Middle East ‘it was because of my Dad’s work’ she got involved in United for Peace when the 2006 Lebanon War broke out. ‘I really wanted to do something to help…the only thing that I could do personally was to contact Mars chocolate fundraising and I started selling that chocolate. One of the places that I selling it was at a Flinders [University] lecture by Dr David Palmer and Houssam [Abiad] was there and he saw me and asked me if I wanted to get involved’.
Sitting in his office after the meeting, I ask Houssam about his vision for the organization. ‘Obviously we’re a very young organisation… what I’d like to see is something that is beyond me. I might not be around to see it, but I think my ultimate goal at the end of the day is, living in Australia we must all be Australians.’ The statement seems an ill fitting answer to the question, but it’s obviously something he feels need to be said, so I drop the line of questioning and ask him what he means by ‘being Australian’. ‘To me? It means opportunity. It means freedom of speech, freedom of thought…having the ability to express myself at any time of the day without having to feel fear…without having to feel inhibitions.’ His words remind me that many Arab-Australians now feel more pressure to prove themselves as ‘’fair dinkum” Australians, especially after some gave the rest a bad name at the 2005 Cronulla riots.
Heba has experienced the feeling, too. ‘I’ve had to justify myself in a number of situations. Although I’m not Muslim I still have attachments to the Middle East. A lot of people would make assumptions of what my stance was on certain situations. On the other hand, it’s made me think twice about how I look at other people and races. There are extremes in all cultures. You have to give people the benefit of the doubt’.
But personal identity takes a backseat here: more important is the task at hand, developing the policies and direction of United for Peace. Houssam tells me that it is ‘completely apolitical’, and ‘purely humanitarian’, but at present their fundraising channels seem to have a heavy bias towards Lebanese and Palestinian interests. It’s a young organisation but from the outside, the partiality seems to work in noticeable contrast to their mission statement of impartiality.
So does that mean United for Peace, whose committee members are ‘mainly Lebanese and Palestinian’ according to Ranim, would raise money for an Israeli cause? ‘Absolutely’, says Houssam. ‘In fact, just recently Anthony Loewenstein came down and talked’. However, the fact that the Sydney based author of ‘My Israel Question’ is Jewish is not enough. His book has been criticized for being ‘overwhelmingly pro-Palestinian’, and containing ‘aggressive public criticisms of the state of Israel’. These comments formed part of a review in the Sydney Morning Herald written by Philip Mendes, a senior lecturer in social policy at Monash University. Mendes also suggested that Loewenstein ‘depicts the Palestinians as largely defenceless and innocent victims and provides only limited discussion of the long history of Palestinian hatred for and violence towards Israel’.
Given these comments, United for Peace may need to make a more concerted effort in order to avoid being seen as taking a political stance; fundraising on a broader scale and the inclusion of some Jewish committee members could all go a long way to achieving the objective of the organisation. This perhaps, more than anything, would ensure there is a true representation and balance within the group. In the meantime United for Peace continue to build a very important organisation and with a savvy, professional and enthusiastic team, they look set for success in achieving the interfaith and intercultural dialogue that they have set out to accomplish.
Tuesday, 18 September 2007
Old Lion Hotel - Restaurant Review
My favorite animal is steak.” ~Fran LebowitzIt’s hard to go past the Lion’s famous steaks when you’re after seriously satisfying food. A spontaneous culinary stop late on a weekday night, our corner table looked out over groups of suited business men, a birthday gathering and a few older couples sipping their way through bottles of good reds. Comfort food also calls for favourtie wines, and tonight an ordered glass of Rockford Alicante Bouchet turned into a bottle when the waiter pointed out the mere allocation of two-and-a-bit glasses per person between us. Nice one.
With my hypochondriac of a dining companion declaring he definitely needed steak ‘because I’m all pale, I probably have anemia’ we decided that the Coorong Angus MSA Graded Scotch Fillet with Coriole Olive Oil Mash, Beerenberg Tomato and Beetroot Relish and Peppercorn Sauce would be the best cure for his clearly morbid announcement.
Perfectly tender and juicy on the inside, our request for them to be well done was dutifully executed in the most skillful fashion, the fat slightly blackened and crisp. The distinctive Coriole characteristics of the olive oil shone through the mash and the peppercorn sauce was delectably rich and meaty but surprisingly un-peppery for its name.
Vegetables are interesting but lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat. ~Fran Lebowitz
Unfortunately the arrival of our Asparagus and Brocollini with Sweet Lemon Emulsion a few minutes after we has swept up the last few drops of sauce from our steaks meant that they probably weren’t enjoyed to their full potential. They were, however, delicious and the emulsion that dressed broccolini and asparagus certainly livened the dish up to create something of an accidental palate cleanser before dessert. The mistake was dealt with graciously by the staff, who were clearly lacking in numbers on a night where folks like us - ‘walk-ins’ to those in the industry - and a couple of people off sick had thrown the carefully considered tables/waiters proportion off balance. We were generously offered a dessert each on the house as well as the cost of the vegetables deducted from our bill.
I want to have a good body, but not as much as I want dessert. ~ Jason Love
We finished our evening with a silky hazelnut truffle desert and a tangy lemon pudding whose beautiful sauce pooled onto the plate once the spoon penetrated the centre of the pudding. Once again the waiters recommendation was spot on, and to their credit they remained helpful and cheerful until we, as the last table, left the building, contended, full, and determined to return soon.
Number Ten - La Cucina e Bar review
This is a review for Number Ten, a resturant on O'Connell St, North Adelaide. It was formely Adelaide institution Cibo Ristorante and #10 La Cucina e Bar. Since this visit I have returned several times and updated reviews will be posted here and at the original site shortly.
Published May 2007 on www.webmenu.com.au
Bring your expectations from the old Cibo restaurant and you might be disappointed. Unfortunately it seems that this restaurant is still finding its feet and its own style after adopting a significant part of the old menu. I have visited this place twice in recent weeks in the hope to see such a transformation take place; whilst the pizzas maintain the authenticity of the old restaurant, and indeed compare well with those I have tasted in Rome, the meat dishes from the main menu seem to lack confidence and the robust flavors that you would expect from a good Italian restaurant.
The exception to this would be the soup that I ordered on my first visit. The special of the day, it was a delicious thick pumpkin and basil topped with honey mascarpone – absolutely divine, and full of flavor. Full marks here. I could barely eat my main course, but that proved not much of a problem as the The Galleto alla Diavola that followed, a whole chicken simply flavoured with olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, sage & thyme. It was pretty underwhelming, lacking softness in the meat and any delicious juices to meld the flavours together. A disappointment considering the luxury and prospect of a succulent whole bird.
The Pancia di maiale con mella balsamica (crispy skin pork belly) was beautifully presented without a doubt, with a tiny, glazed apple on one side and the sweet potato puree in a little – perhaps too little - mound on the other. But the promised crispy skin was somewhat soggy by the time it reached me (disappointing, as it is the delicious element of the dish. The pork lacked the necessary salt to bring out the flavor of the meat, which was presented in two wedges arranged in the middle of the plate. Overall I’d expect a little more, and a little more attention to the basic requirements – salt and crispiness - for my $29.90.
As an aside, a lack of crispness was also the issue with a salt and pepper squid entrée, which, while tasty, once again focused on a beautiful presentation rather than the two essential elements of flavor and texture true to the nature of the dish. The aeoli presented with it had very little flavor at all. On the other hand, the little rocket salad that came with the dish was exquisite, perfectly dressed in olive oil and salt.
For what the restaurant currently lacks in gastronomic potency it could just about make up with their service. Clearly quality staff have been sought after (as a regular patron of the previous establishment I didn’t notice any wait staff that survived the transition) and our waiter was gracious, speedy and attentive. A charming, accented man, he immediately wished my mum ‘Happy Mothers Day’ on arrival, managed to communicate well with the kitchen about her egg allergy, and presented her with a single tulip at the end of the meal to the bemusement of my family.
No doubt the culinary memories of Adelaideans will continue, for a time, to draw bookings, but the hit and miss menu has disappointed this gastronome for now. I look forward to seeing the development of the restaurant into a true local identity of its own, as it has more than enough potential to become another must eat Adelaide restaurant.
Published May 2007 on www.webmenu.com.au
Bring your expectations from the old Cibo restaurant and you might be disappointed. Unfortunately it seems that this restaurant is still finding its feet and its own style after adopting a significant part of the old menu. I have visited this place twice in recent weeks in the hope to see such a transformation take place; whilst the pizzas maintain the authenticity of the old restaurant, and indeed compare well with those I have tasted in Rome, the meat dishes from the main menu seem to lack confidence and the robust flavors that you would expect from a good Italian restaurant.
The exception to this would be the soup that I ordered on my first visit. The special of the day, it was a delicious thick pumpkin and basil topped with honey mascarpone – absolutely divine, and full of flavor. Full marks here. I could barely eat my main course, but that proved not much of a problem as the The Galleto alla Diavola that followed, a whole chicken simply flavoured with olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, sage & thyme. It was pretty underwhelming, lacking softness in the meat and any delicious juices to meld the flavours together. A disappointment considering the luxury and prospect of a succulent whole bird.
The Pancia di maiale con mella balsamica (crispy skin pork belly) was beautifully presented without a doubt, with a tiny, glazed apple on one side and the sweet potato puree in a little – perhaps too little - mound on the other. But the promised crispy skin was somewhat soggy by the time it reached me (disappointing, as it is the delicious element of the dish. The pork lacked the necessary salt to bring out the flavor of the meat, which was presented in two wedges arranged in the middle of the plate. Overall I’d expect a little more, and a little more attention to the basic requirements – salt and crispiness - for my $29.90.
As an aside, a lack of crispness was also the issue with a salt and pepper squid entrée, which, while tasty, once again focused on a beautiful presentation rather than the two essential elements of flavor and texture true to the nature of the dish. The aeoli presented with it had very little flavor at all. On the other hand, the little rocket salad that came with the dish was exquisite, perfectly dressed in olive oil and salt.
For what the restaurant currently lacks in gastronomic potency it could just about make up with their service. Clearly quality staff have been sought after (as a regular patron of the previous establishment I didn’t notice any wait staff that survived the transition) and our waiter was gracious, speedy and attentive. A charming, accented man, he immediately wished my mum ‘Happy Mothers Day’ on arrival, managed to communicate well with the kitchen about her egg allergy, and presented her with a single tulip at the end of the meal to the bemusement of my family.
No doubt the culinary memories of Adelaideans will continue, for a time, to draw bookings, but the hit and miss menu has disappointed this gastronome for now. I look forward to seeing the development of the restaurant into a true local identity of its own, as it has more than enough potential to become another must eat Adelaide restaurant.
Thursday, 30 August 2007
Cuisine of the Barr Smith Lawns
Move over, sausage sizzles. With the weather hotting up it seems that every club on campus is out to boost their bank accounts (no doubt to fund their rather enjoyable end of year piss ups) by flogging cheap and delicious food to hungry students. But it isn’t just greasy sausages anymore – you can now pick anything from falafel, to noodles, to
Last week the Evangelical Union, the Malaysian Students and Godless (the atheist club) competed for punters, with the EU giving away noodles and Godless hosting endless BBQ’s – in fact, one would be forgiven for thinking they had set up shop, with this reporter spying them on the lawns all Election Week too.
The Malaysian Students Association also busted into the BBQ market on this particular day so we thought a BBQ round up would be in order. Both groups had a selling price of $1 per sausage so we had to look a bit further to make up our minds about Godless were our first visit and though the set up was a bit confusing, the organizers soon pointed us in the right direction and they scored major points when my veggie friend got a massive veggie pattie sandwich (that’s right, they didn’t skimp on the bread) for the bargain price of $1. The sausages weren’t particularly inspiring but we liked that you could get a sticker that said ‘no thanks, I’m an atheist’ free with your snag.
Venturing over to the Malaysian BBQ, we couldn’t really find any veggie options unless you wanted to eat bread with onion and sauce – quite a reasonable proposal given that the onion serving was so generous my entire hand was enveloped along with the sausage and bread. The sausages here were definitely better quality and these guys were super organized, strategically placing themselves opposite their stall. The girls who were running it were great PR people - they should run in student elections the way that I was accosted, leafleted and invited to an event in one smooth move.
However, pick of the month for Food of the Barr Smith Lawns goes to the Israeli club who gave away free falafel rolls during their event on Wednesday of Election Week. They were awesome guys – and if you’re reading this, send me your hummus recipe.
Last week the Evangelical Union, the Malaysian Students and Godless (the atheist club) competed for punters, with the EU giving away noodles and Godless hosting endless BBQ’s – in fact, one would be forgiven for thinking they had set up shop, with this reporter spying them on the lawns all Election Week too.
The Malaysian Students Association also busted into the BBQ market on this particular day so we thought a BBQ round up would be in order. Both groups had a selling price of $1 per sausage so we had to look a bit further to make up our minds about Godless were our first visit and though the set up was a bit confusing, the organizers soon pointed us in the right direction and they scored major points when my veggie friend got a massive veggie pattie sandwich (that’s right, they didn’t skimp on the bread) for the bargain price of $1. The sausages weren’t particularly inspiring but we liked that you could get a sticker that said ‘no thanks, I’m an atheist’ free with your snag.
Venturing over to the Malaysian BBQ, we couldn’t really find any veggie options unless you wanted to eat bread with onion and sauce – quite a reasonable proposal given that the onion serving was so generous my entire hand was enveloped along with the sausage and bread. The sausages here were definitely better quality and these guys were super organized, strategically placing themselves opposite their stall. The girls who were running it were great PR people - they should run in student elections the way that I was accosted, leafleted and invited to an event in one smooth move.
However, pick of the month for Food of the Barr Smith Lawns goes to the Israeli club who gave away free falafel rolls during their event on Wednesday of Election Week. They were awesome guys – and if you’re reading this, send me your hummus recipe.
Student Radio 2008
Congratulations to Johnathon Brown who has been elected as the 2008 Student Radio Director in this year's Adelaide University Union Elections.
John currently produces the Breakfast show for Radio Adelaide and has some exciting new plans in the works for Student Radio in 2008.
You can contact him at johnathon.brown@student.adelaide.edu.au
John currently produces the Breakfast show for Radio Adelaide and has some exciting new plans in the works for Student Radio in 2008.
You can contact him at johnathon.brown@student.adelaide.edu.au
Sunday, 19 August 2007
AUSR at Open Day 2007
AUSR will be hosting Open Day at the University of Adelaide on Sunday 26th August. Meet the Student Radio Directors, Franky and Sunshine from The Director's cut along with with all your favourite presenters including Geoff, Kye and Ben from Vincent and Gumpch, Andrew and Will from the Slightly Political Party and Kristian, Jimmy and Toby from The Dissident Conformists.
Resident DJ's Pete and Simtech will be bringing smooth tunes and chilled out vibes to your weekend. You can catch Student Radio from 11am to 3pm on Hughes Plaza. Don't miss it.
Resident DJ's Pete and Simtech will be bringing smooth tunes and chilled out vibes to your weekend. You can catch Student Radio from 11am to 3pm on Hughes Plaza. Don't miss it.
The Director's Cut
The Director's Cut is a fortnightly show on Radio Adelaide 101.5FM hosted by Hannah Frank and Tyson Shine. The show is open mic and there are different guests, ranging from revolutionary youth movements, to politicans, musicians and comedians.
Each week the Student Radio resident DJ's, Simtech and Pete bring your ears alive with a new musical theme. Past themes have included TV Shows, Songs That Have Been Ruined By Advertising and Songs You Didn't Know Were Covers.
Still to come this year on The Director's Cut is the Swing Music Special, Soundtracks and more. The show is broadcast on Radio Adelaide 101.5FM every Tuesday night at 10pm.
Each week the Student Radio resident DJ's, Simtech and Pete bring your ears alive with a new musical theme. Past themes have included TV Shows, Songs That Have Been Ruined By Advertising and Songs You Didn't Know Were Covers.
Still to come this year on The Director's Cut is the Swing Music Special, Soundtracks and more. The show is broadcast on Radio Adelaide 101.5FM every Tuesday night at 10pm.
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