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Spot the crap stuff (and pic) in my status symbol kitchen.What kind of swamp do I inhabit? No, I don’t live in Elwood which is now merely stinking canals and is vulnerable to subsidence.I’m talking about the stinking, sticky slimy loathsome depths of depravity that my mind has sunk to meaning that I can’t even take a simple email on face value.My curt reply to his enquiries on the local food blogging scene no doubt left Michael Ruhlman, an opinionated man at the best of times, having some fairly strong views on what sort of twat I am.In my defence, I received his email on April 2 which meant he would have sent it on April 1 and my cortex was filled with April Fool’s pranks.What I like about Ruhlman, the writer of The French Laundry Cookbook, a definitive work on Charcuterie blah blah, is that he is opinionated and a food snob (note I don’t say F–die) to boot.I know prior to its recent release here The Elements of Cooking was already popular among local chefs including Attica’s Ben Shewry. It’s the sort of book which is essential if you are starting out in the kitchen. But it is equally useful for old hands.It finishes off with an A to Z of useful cooking terms but I like best his essays laying the ground work for a proper kitchen and good practice - stock, sauce, seasoning, eggs, heat, tools, good cookbooks (very American-centric for Australia) and finesse.On tools, all you need is a chef’s knife, a large cutting board, a large sauté pan, a flat edged wood spoon and a large non-reactive (Pyrex ideally) bowl.Note he doesn’t say a set of Jamie Oliver Pans, Gordon Ramsay cunting egg slice, Nigella Lawson incontinence pants, Al-Qaeda box knife set, Bill Granger toothbrush or Toby Puttock wooden spoon.This sorts of things definitely should not be on your shopping list when sifting through all the kitchen junk at the Myer or David Jones sale.What amazes me is that Ruhlman doesn’t even mention the wok probably because he is from the Francophile cooking school.He reminds me exactly how much rubbish I have in my kitchen.So how about this? Why don’t we all blog (or leave in comments) the best and worst of the tool in your kitchen by 4 May you time.I’ll then do a round up of the best and worst gadgets.I’ll leave the last words to Ruhlman, who Stephanie also keeps going on about, because they are so good:

“As a rule, any tool that has only one use should be avoided: examples including the shrimp deveiner, cherry pitter, hand crank fruit peeler, special slicers for butter, eggs, avocado, mango et cetera. Also be wary of buying sets of anything: figure what you need, and buy that.A well-outfitted kitchen is defined by its efficiency and by the quality of those tools that make it efficient. The fanciest kitchens with the most beautiful pots, pans and appliances I’ve found to be the least used kitchens and therefore the worst kitchens. I hope the kitchen as a status symbol is a short-lived phenomenon.”

Food Fascist- The copper pan I bought in the David Jones sale. Embarrassed- Probably didn’t need the Auber-WS PID temperature controller that I’m rigging up to the Martini Monster’s rice cooker (thanks for that) for sous vide (boil in a bag) cooking.- I’ve caught a cold from somebody at The Age who apparently doesn’t have a venereal disease.- Last night going to the Emerald Hill Microbrewery (beer natch), The Clarendon (riesling, calamari), Giuseppe, Arnaldo & Sons (pig), Bistro Guillaume (the best lemon tarte known to humanity. Hendricks Martini), Nobu (saki), Borsch Vodka and Tears (vodka, martini, absinthe) and the Martin Monster’s for yet more booze (5am) was over the top.- John Lethlean you are too noisy. At least the lesbians sitting next to you in Dunkeld said so. Where was Michael Harden’s noise meter?- Bugger. I pitched that idea last week.- Dunkeld sommelier: I still haven’t forgotten the time you stole my Clarines while feeding the cat. But a returned email or phone call would be nice.- Ellie, keep your mouth shut.- A few of us are thinking the food at Attica has the edge on Dunkeld. Sorry.

Popularity: 16% [?]

DJs: “Pitted olives is that?”
Tomato:“Oh, yes that’s a wonderful idea. Pitted olives. Oh, but could you hold on the dental work?”
DJs:“Excuse me sir?”
Tomato: “I’d like that without $5,000 of dental work, please.”
DJs: “I don’t understand.”
Tomato: “It’s quite simple really. Each batch of pitted olives I buy from you features fully fledged olives complete with stones. I bit into what I assume to be a pitted olive and cracked a tooth. Kerching! The dentist wins. To be honest I’d prefer the compensation.”
Yes, an old olive injury is playing up. Naturally, my complaints to store management resulted in zilch. This is the third crown thanks to the really badly pitted olives at what was once the David Jones Foodstore on Fitzroy Street, St Kilda.
The only good to come out of this is the fact that I’m having yet another gold cap installed which, of course, builds my cred when I visit me yardie mates back in Brixton.
These tough gangster rapper looks don’t seem to stop me being mugged by dentists although it has stopped any delis trying to push those dodgy olives on me. I’ll be back with me yardie mates. Innit.

Food Fascist
Stores I won’t visit again:
David Jones. The way I see it I’m owed over five grand. Their loss on Paul Smith suits et.c. Winner: Henry Bucks where I shall buy my next thick chalk striped suit. Plus Henry Bucks offers free alterations for the lifetime of, I believe, all suits. This is the kind of old-fashioned service I like.
Anything to do with Harvey Norman, especially Harvey Norman Renovations. For refusing to return my $2,000 plus deposit after I realised the down-draught extraction system would be next to useless. Hats off to the Victorian Civil and Administrative Tribunal for ruling against them. Also they refused to exchange my mate’s TV set which wouldn’t fit into his shelf unit. Wankers. Winners: Qasair who supplied my excellent twin turbocharged extraction system. Ikea for their cheap and excellent kitchen cabinets.
Coles. The supermarket that took months to compensate me for the designer linen shirt that tore on a sharp piece of metal that shouldn’t have been there. Oh, and let’s not mention the dodgy indestructible tomatoes they push. Winner: Prahran market.
The Wishlist website. For really poor service when a gift voucher purchase goes wrong. Cost me money. I’d like to cost them more.

Popularity: 8% [?]

Last week at my wine group lunch at Oyster (35 Little Bourke St, Melbourne 300 Vic +61 3 9650 0988) I couldn’t help but notice the steak knives.
They have the classic shape and even the trademark bee.
But sorry, these are not Laguiole but a blatant copy by Maxwell & Williams.
I am very surprised that they have got away with it, or do they have a licensing deal with Laguiole?
This is what the Laguiole website says:

“Laguiole is worldwide known with the cutlery.
Laguiole knives and Laguiole brand were created over the last century. The brand is easily recognizable by the bee inlayed on each knife.”

This is what the Maxwell & Williams website says:

“All MAXWELL & WILLIAMS products are made from the finest quality materials available. We source manufacturers of the highest repute to work closely with our team of Australian based designers and we proudly stand by the quality of the products we deliver, providing you with as much information about your purchase as possible.”

I couldn’t find the knives on the Maxwell & Williams website. Anyway I’ve asked them via email. Will they respond?

UPDATE: A reply from Maxwell & Williams. Obviously, copyright reared its ugly head:

“Thank you for your enquiry on our Maxwell & Williams range of homewares.
To answer your questions, the Maxwell & Williams range of ‘Laguiole’ steak knives were made in our factories in China. They are a ‘Laguiole’ style knife. And unfortunately they are now part of a deleted line. This range was discontinued approximately 6 months ago, and any remaining stock was sold via participating stores.”

Popularity: 10% [?]

I’ve been researching a new coffee machine after my crappy first generation Chinese import lost puff. If a machine is any good, there is usually a massive cost differential between what I could buy it for overseas and in Australia.
Then poking around the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission website for a story for The Australian, I found the press release below. I think we’ll find quite a few other companies that import kitchen paraphernalia taking the piss out of us (not to mention department store David Jones that sells Paul Smith shirts for $399 when I could buy them online from the UK for $280, including postage).

From ACCC:
“A penalty of $280,000 has been imposed on Cambur Industries Pty Ltd, the sole Australian distributor of Bamix and Magimix branded kitchen products, including the dual branded Nespresso/Magimix coffee making machines, for engaging in resale price maintenance.

A Cambur sales and marketing manager, Mr John (Sean) Caulfield, admitted that he was directly and knowingly concerned in and party to each and every contravention by Cambur and was fined $32,000.

The penalties were imposed today by Justice Besanko of the Federal Court, Adelaide, following action taken by the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission in September 2005. Cambur had earlier admitted to the court that in its dealings with two Adelaide-based authorised stockists, it had breached section 48 of the Trade Practices Act, by:

inducing or attempting to induce the stockists not to sell and advertise Cambur products at prices less than prices specified by Cambur
making it known to the stockists that Cambur would not continue to supply Cambur products unless the stockists agreed not to sell and advertise Cambur products at prices less than prices specified by Cambur, and
using statements of prices that were likely to be understood by the stockists as the prices below which Cambur products were not to be sold and advertised for sale.
Cambur also admitted that in its dealings with one of the stockists it engaged in resale price maintenance by withholding supply of Cambur products to the stockist for the substantial reason that the stockist had sold and had advertised Cambur products at prices less than prices specified by Cambur.

In submissions to the court, Cambur advised it had since written to its authorised stockists to inform them that it had engaged in unlawful conduct and that they were at liberty to make their own decisions on whether to discount products.

Given that Cambur had already implemented a trade practices compliance program, Justice Besanko accepted an undertaking in relation to that program. He also ordered Cambur to pay the ACCC’s costs, as agreed or taxed.

“Suppliers cannot seek to build brand value by imposing a minimum retail price for goods they have supplied - that is a decision for the retailer”, ACCC Chairman, Mr Graeme Samuel, said today.

“Imposing such minimum retail prices prevents consumers from obtaining lower prices that may otherwise be available through competition”.

Popularity: 7% [?]

The electric juicer hasn’t left the cupboard for over a year. It seemed like a good idea at the time but in reality it is simply a sugar machine. Far better I say to cut out the middle man – the juicer – and simply eat the whole fruit, with peel if possible.
That gives me sugar, nutrients and, importantly, roughage. And that means I don’t have to lurk in a dark corner at the pharmacist buying Proctologist & Gamble’s wonderful Metamucil to mix into my martinis.
No problems there mate.
Like the juicer, most of my electric products stay mainly in the cupboard. the microwave is hidden away in what is posing as a scullery. The Magimix comes out with the full moon.
Instead I’m pounding, shaving or grinding coffee by hand. I simply don’t need another electric gadget apart from, of course, a shiny La Pavoni coffee machine.
And this brings me to this unpowered gadget, my sieve. It’s one of my favourite and entered into the gadget meme over at Posie’s Place.
It’s made from some mystery alloy, is unbranded. All I know is that it is made in Korea and reassuringly industrial in feel.
Most weeks I make some kind of stock mainly from chicken, fish or crustacea. And this is when this simply device comes into it’s own. It lets through what it should. And stops what should not be there.
Actually, I’m lying there. All sorts of fine detritus sneaks through. For a clear consomme style stock I have a second go with a smallish square of muslin or an old sock.
That aside, it’s a little ray of sunshine in my life. Yuk, I can’t believe I’m being this corny. Spring – for I am in the southern hemisphere – must be getting to me.

Gadget fascist: moreof my favourite gadgets

Ready to shave Mr Zimba

Never mind the baking tins this is the bollocks

Thai supper without Stephen Hawking

Weasel poo coffee – as posh as pig’s arseholes

favourite kitchen gadgets

Popularity: 6% [?]

INGREDIENTS
3 cups coconut milk
1 cup chicken/prawn stock or water
tad of salt
palm sugar
cup of cubed pumpkin
6 fresh deveined and peeled prawns and six dried shrimp, rinsed
ground white pepper
Paste
1 tablespoon or so dried prawns
salt
3-4 red shallots, chopped finely
3-4 coriander roots, chopped finely
8-10 white peppercorns

It wasn’t have been Jamie Oliver’s fault. At least I don’t think so. I started off in Sydney with a small pestle & mortar. It was far too small and semi pounded coriander roots spilled onto the floor.
And so it was a graduated to a shiny new Magimix, an object of my desire from my youth having for years eyeing up ones owned by chalet girls. Now several hundred dollars of machinery sits abandoned on my work top. Instead a rather large Jamie Oliver-type pestle and mortar – way larger than my original – takes pride of place.
It cost about $30 odd from a local Asian grocery.
Tonight J is compressing dried shrimp to what I can only assume is to the density of a black hole. Having studied theoretical physics I know this isn’t a good thing. Our neighbourhood could be sucked in to this dark matter. And I know for a fact that neither Stephen Hawking (we don’t have wheel chair access) nor Carl Sagan (he’s dead) are coming to supper.
More to the point I have a flash back to some cookery show where the chef was laughing at some poor sod attempting to pound rather than grind with the above. I’d read how Aussie Thai cooking guru David Thompson had spent an aeon being tough how to use a pestle and mortar properly by some over zealous granny in Thailand. Apparently, the point was that the ingredients shouldn’t spill out of the top. And as this is one of the recipe’s from his book Thai Food we should at least try and do a proper job.
last year I became so self conscious about my technique that I just had to find out what the correct technique was. Quite simply it is that the ingredients are ground by what I can only describe as a whisking action rather than compressed to that light bending stuff.
naturally, the kitchen intervention does cause some friction. But I figure a bit of heat in the kitchen is better than a cataclysmic light bending event.
I takeover the preparation of the paste for the Dried Prawn and Coconut Soup with Pumpkin. I grind – not pound, remember – the prawns until they become a sort of fluff. Next the coriander roots go in (isn’t it great to have a use for them) plus the shallots, peppercorns and salt.
I grind with a whisking type motion and try and keep all the ingredients from overflowing onto the chopping block and eventually the floor. Needless to say they go everywhere. I don’t know how long it takes me but my am aches and I get bored.
The paste is stirred into the coconut milk and stock/water are heated with a pinch of salt and sugar (to taste)the pumpkin and the remaining dried shrimps. When the pumpkin is cooked, it is ready.

FOOD FASCIST
1. Dried shrimps are a tasty and safe alternative to addictive drugs like Pringles.
2. Grind don’t pound in the name of Allah!
3. This should take 30-40 mins from start to table – unless like J manage to slow time and drag it out for 90 minutes. That’s black holes for you.
4. If Stephen Hawking is coming to supper, please ensure wheelchair access (Beware, he drinks like the late Queen Mother – but through a straw).
5. Quickly think of something to do with the left over coconut milk.

Popularity: 7% [?]

We are a coffee granule free zone. But I do have half a kilo of some stuff that passed out of a Weasel’s backside. At least in Vietnam they call it weasel. It is a civet and the beans are poohed out, it having eaten the coffee berries. Some poor bugger collects the droppings and (hopefully) washes them before roasting. It makes a very, very dark coloured bean and a very strong dark coffee. J says it even tastes of poo.
I don’t know why we should become all uptight at drinking weasel poo coffee. After all there isn’t actually any poo in the grind (again hopefully).
Chef Fergus Henderson (who’ll be bringing his schtick to Melbourne soon for a winter food festival) made his name feeding us tripe. Yep, he’s the man who made pigs’ arse holes posh. So poo should not be something we are shy in dealing with.
I can still remember my first coffee in Hanoi, made with one of those tiny drip filters. It was very dark and strong and chocolately. The weasel is stronger, better toned with the addition of condensed milk. J reckons it’s horrible but my coffee obsessed neighbour still raves about it.
That I don’t buy coffee granules will be no surprise to anyone familiar with my views on tea bags. It does, however, surprises tradesmen (aside from my fleur de lis monogrammed velvet slippers) who also have to put up with home made vanilla-flavoured sugar in their coffee.
I never thought myself as a coffee fascist and I can live without the drop. But when I drink it I want it to have flavour and bite. Being a late morning person coffee is the drug I choose as a morning kick-start.
In my early days as a journalist we had strong drip coffee, usually from a pre-ground vacuum-packed container. By late afternoon the coffee was approaching the consistency of treacle and only a filter less Galois bummed from a colleague could cut through the taste.
It was around that time I discovered the concept of cappuccino and espresso on Wardour and Old Compton Streets and around. These Italian variations of coffee sufficed for nearly ten years (alongside the occasional shot of Greek – or Turkish, depending on your politics).
At the last count I had seven coffee makers at home. There’s the very old octagonal espresso machine, you know the ones. There’s the cheap home espresso machine that makes a perfectly decent drop, the plunger, two Greek coffee and stainless steel drippers picked up in Vietnam.
I bought the last two in Saigon at the Ben Thahn Market because I became obsessed with Vietnamese coffee. The first cup I drank(in Hanoi) was very dark and chocolately and soon, with condensed milk added too, I was hooked.
I know I have said this about the food but the cheaper the joint in Vietnam, the better the coffee. Visit a European style hotel and they will try and palm off European style coffee, which is a great shame. (although it is better than Africa where anything other than Nescafé is impossible to find).
Using a Viet-style dripper is fairly similar to an espresso machine. The important thing is that the coffee should be tamped to give it a smooth surface. Any break will mean water will leach through without grabbing enough of the flavours.
On special days I add sickly sweet condensed milk. Home brand seem to do well although it does come in a tin rather than a tube. While the tube seems convenient it is difficult to squeeze from straight out the fridge.
The tin, however, one opened jizzed (actually this spill is what I understand some of my comment spammers refer to as bukkake) all over the worktop. The sticky stuff is really, um, sticky and somehow I did get some in my hair.
I keep my condensed milk in a jam jar in the fridge. Each morning I go through the jizz ritual before relaxing into that deep poo aroma. I’m that relaxed that I may even invite a medium-sized dog up to lick up the mess. That’s the condensed milk, if you’d forgotten.

Popularity: 14% [?]

I have a place reserved for the Chocolate 15-18 chocolate humidor right between my truffle brush and my novelty apron.

From: Coolhunting

Popularity: 5% [?]

What do you prefer to eat with? Sometimes I just want to rip in their with my hands. Take a shrimp/prawn. Am I really going to piss around peeling it with a knife and fork? Aren’t I going to rip that rustic sour dough and dip it in the olive oil? Tiny lamp chops make me lose control. Cut out the middleman and shove it straight in your gob.
I mentioned a few entries ago about the ludicrous guest nights at university when we peeled fruit with the best silver. Now I rail against this.
In contrast J revels in tableware (and my bête noir coasters, but that’s another story) perhaps as a reaction to being brought up in the antithesis of civilisation, Surfers Paradise. Our draws are packed with the utility spoons/knifes and forks in stainless steel. Then we have a mix of silver and plated soup spoons, desert spoons, knives and forks. There’s the fish set. Then there are my grandfather’s monogrammed servers.
Let’s not forget the chopsticks – disposable and plastic. What do you choose to eat with? I suppose it depends on the company you are with at that time.
Two hours out of town at Bendigo in the goldfields we find ourselves eating Yum Cha set with a cheap knife and a spoon. A table of Chinese shovel in their lunch with chopsticks. Not far from us there are piles of chopsticks. But something stops us are we being pretentious. Apart from picking up what we are given at restaurant tables, neither J nor I have any cultural precedent for using chopsticks.
At home, alone, we’ll use chopsticks for Asian dishes. Are we being pretentious? I don’t know.
It just feels right to use them with Asian or Chinese food.
And using the spoon and fork in Bendigo feels odd.

Food fascist

1. If you need steak knifes you’ve no idea how to cook steak.
2. Avoid Laguiole steak knives at all costs. They are overpriced (especially in Australia) and pretentious.
3. I am tempted to carry my own personal soup spoon. They really are designed for the purpose of moving liquid from A to B. Ditto the Chinese ones but it would be pretentious for me to carry around.
4. Hmm…I’m not sure about fish knives/forks anymore.
5. Don’t allow silver and steel to touch in the draw or dishwasher – the silver will tarnish. I always being accused of being a fascist on this and I am with good reason. Bastards!
6. When in Chinatown…

Popularity: 7% [?]

If a kitchen object were ever to feature in SEX, this would be it. I’m not talking about the hot sweaty act but the (in)famous shop on the Kings road in London. The one that was run by designer Vivienne Westwood and pop Svengali Malcolm McLaren about the same time he launched the Sex Pistols.
I don’t suppose many readers would have visited Sex. As a teenager I was lucky enough to. I didn’t have the cash for bondage pants, anything decorated with lavatory chains or those fancy BDSM outfits made out of shiny rubber.
As we celebrate 30 years since the Sex Pistols swore and gobbed themselves around the country I do have a bit more cash. Enough to buy this kitchen object, not rubber, but a silicon muffin pan. In the 30 months I have owned this object, it has brought a revolution to my cooking.
No longer do I spend hours greasing tins and cutting small circles of baking paper that sit in the bottom of baking tins.
Splat, I just plop whatever concoction is my cooking fad this week into the object, slip it into the oven and, once cool, slide out my whatever it is. No sticking, no broken corners, Perfectomundo.
Think muffins, small soufflés, panacotta (loads of it) and this thing does the job.

Food fascist

1. Keep sharp objects (even safety pins) away from the silicon

2. Place it on a metal tray in the oven

3. It does smell

4. This one cost $70 but the price is coming down with popularity

Popularity: 6% [?]