For those of you who aren't part of the Gossip Girl generation - or have no interest in being part of it - "OMG" means "Oh my God." Variations include "OMFG" ("Oh my fucking God") and "ZOMG" (even I, a relative whippersnapper, don't know what this means).
Anyway, today I created OMG Cookies. I've named them thus because when I tasted them, I thought, "Oh my God, these are GOOD." They are super-quick to make, and require just eight ingredients, most of which you'll already have in your pantry or fridge. Which means, lucky you, you can make them right away.
OMG Cookies
Ingredients
1/2 cup toasted almond slivers and pine nuts*
1 cup coconut
2 cups icing sugar
1/3 cup cocoa/ground chocolate/chocolate chips
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 egg whites
1 tablespoon sea salt
1 tablespoon sugar
1. Preheat oven 200 degrees Celcius.
2. Mix all ingredients except salt and regular sugar in a bowl.
2. Using a tablespoon measure, scoop balls of mixture onto lined baking trays.
3. Mix sugar and salt together, and sprinkle over each dough ball.
4. Bake for 10 minutes.
5. Devour.
These cookies are amazing - really crispy on the outside and so chewy and gooey on the inside. They are such a great afternoon snack - and I bet they'd be perfect mashed into or over a few scoops of good-quality vanilla bean icecream.
Friday, March 19
Monday, March 8
lunch for dad
Last week, my brother and I made lunch to celebrate my Dad's 50th birthday. This was an exercise in frustration for a few reasons...but mostly because my brother, Big Bird, is a wee bit hopeless when it comes to cooking. Oh, and he was dreadfully hungover.
BB is three years younger than me, and while we get along really well, we don't have too much in common. For instance: there was no olive oil in his pantry. This should probably tell you something about the differences in our priorities.
We have cooked together before, but usually at my Mum's house, which is stocked with all sorts of gadgets and foodstuffs that make cooking a breeze. At BB's house, there are two pans, one tray and three sets of cutlery (ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife, in short). But we did succeed in making a three course meal - here's how.
1. Time. We allowed half an hour for shopping and 1.5 hours for preparation.
2. Delegation. BB isn't a kitchen native, so I happily bossed him about, shouting temperatures and times like Nigella on crack.
3. Rage. When BB told me he didn't have any olive oil, I shouted at him. Same for when he didn't answer his phone or the doorbell when we were trying to get into his house. Hey, when it comes to little brothers, sometimes you've gotta be tough.
4. Laughter. When BB lost half the couscous down the sink, we just laughed. I mean, at that point, what can you do?
5. Booze. For the guests, not us. Keep the table wet and you'll be a success, no matter how charred the meat.
We also served an easy entree that looks fancy, is relatively cheap and also provides two servings of vegetables. Even BB, who normally wouldn't consume anything green except Gatorade, finished his serve.
Stuffed roast capsicum
Ingredients
4 red capsicums, sliced in half lengthways, pith and seeds removed
500 gm grape tomatoes (mini Roma would also work well)
1 garlic bulb, peeled and separated into cloves
1 spanish onion, chopped in wedges
1 cup of baby spinach leaves
1/3 cup shaved parmesan
1 cup basil leaves
1/3 cup olive oil
1. Preheat oven to 200 degrees Celcius.
2. Arrange capsicums on oven trays, empty side up. Fill with garlic, tomatoes and onion.
3. Bake for 1 hour.
4. Meanwhile, blitz the spinach, basil, parmesan and oil in a food processor (not too long - you want it to be a bit chunky).
5. Serve capsicums with pesto spread over them. Delicious hot or cold.
BB is three years younger than me, and while we get along really well, we don't have too much in common. For instance: there was no olive oil in his pantry. This should probably tell you something about the differences in our priorities.
We have cooked together before, but usually at my Mum's house, which is stocked with all sorts of gadgets and foodstuffs that make cooking a breeze. At BB's house, there are two pans, one tray and three sets of cutlery (ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife, in short). But we did succeed in making a three course meal - here's how.
1. Time. We allowed half an hour for shopping and 1.5 hours for preparation.
2. Delegation. BB isn't a kitchen native, so I happily bossed him about, shouting temperatures and times like Nigella on crack.
3. Rage. When BB told me he didn't have any olive oil, I shouted at him. Same for when he didn't answer his phone or the doorbell when we were trying to get into his house. Hey, when it comes to little brothers, sometimes you've gotta be tough.
4. Laughter. When BB lost half the couscous down the sink, we just laughed. I mean, at that point, what can you do?
5. Booze. For the guests, not us. Keep the table wet and you'll be a success, no matter how charred the meat.
We also served an easy entree that looks fancy, is relatively cheap and also provides two servings of vegetables. Even BB, who normally wouldn't consume anything green except Gatorade, finished his serve.
Stuffed roast capsicum
Ingredients
4 red capsicums, sliced in half lengthways, pith and seeds removed
500 gm grape tomatoes (mini Roma would also work well)
1 garlic bulb, peeled and separated into cloves
1 spanish onion, chopped in wedges
1 cup of baby spinach leaves
1/3 cup shaved parmesan
1 cup basil leaves
1/3 cup olive oil
1. Preheat oven to 200 degrees Celcius.
2. Arrange capsicums on oven trays, empty side up. Fill with garlic, tomatoes and onion.
3. Bake for 1 hour.
4. Meanwhile, blitz the spinach, basil, parmesan and oil in a food processor (not too long - you want it to be a bit chunky).
5. Serve capsicums with pesto spread over them. Delicious hot or cold.
Saturday, March 6
febfast...over at last
I never knew how many restaurants had alcohol-fuelled titles until I ate in two of them in one week. While I was abstaining from booze. Hmm.
My Mum and I decided, on January 31, that we'd attempt FebFast. No booze for 28 days. It seemed achievable until I realised Caliban and I were going on holidays for six days during Feb. OK, OK - 22 days without alcohol. That's reasonable. We were certain we could do it. And you know what? We did. Hurrah!
But my month off the sauce was definitely made more difficult by eating at the Bavarian Bier Cafe and Sake in the space of five days. OK, beer I can live without. Especially on a Monday night. Alright, a cold beer would have cut through the fatty veal schnitzel and sauteed potatoes nicely, but as I said, I could live without it.
But sake? Mmm. That's a different story. My friend Miss M and I went to Sake very early on a Friday night. Miss M doesn't drink too much, so she wasn't offended when I said I wasn't going to imbibe. (Honestly, you should see the looks on some people's faces! It's as if I've told them I'm taking away their booze as well as my own.) We feasted on Sake's excellent menu - grilled chicken and zucchini skewers, assorted sashimi (including some of the freshest, tastiest tuna sashimi I've ever eaten), spicy miso chips with salmon and tuna sashimi (a big hit; if only there were more than four on the plate!!), the crispiest and best salt and pepper tofu I've ever had, butterfish lettuce cups (a must), green salad, and a Philadelphia handroll (skip this one: cream cheese in sushi??? Not for me). The food was all excellent, the cute waiter deserved every penny of his tip...but I couldn't help but think there was something missing. That's right: hooch. Every time someone else received their sake or wine or beer or champagne, I felt a little twinge, the way diabetics must feel when their awful friend orders the profiteroles for dessert.
But never mind, because the following week, I went back to Sake with my considerably more booze-friendly friend D, who happily joined me in a glass of Pinot Noir. It was a soggy mess of a Sydney night, so we holed up cosily at Sake with dynamite and spider maki rolls, chicken ka-arage with assorted salsas (not to be missed - it will make you rethink fried chicken) and some disappointingly bland prawn and lotus skewers. But in all, Sake is a delight. The service is excellent, the food even better and the drinks menu extensive. Next time, I must try the chocolate fondant...even if I'm dining with a diabetic.
Sake
12 Argyle Street
The Rocks
Sydney
+61 2 9259 5656
www.sakerestaurant.com.au
My Mum and I decided, on January 31, that we'd attempt FebFast. No booze for 28 days. It seemed achievable until I realised Caliban and I were going on holidays for six days during Feb. OK, OK - 22 days without alcohol. That's reasonable. We were certain we could do it. And you know what? We did. Hurrah!
But my month off the sauce was definitely made more difficult by eating at the Bavarian Bier Cafe and Sake in the space of five days. OK, beer I can live without. Especially on a Monday night. Alright, a cold beer would have cut through the fatty veal schnitzel and sauteed potatoes nicely, but as I said, I could live without it.
But sake? Mmm. That's a different story. My friend Miss M and I went to Sake very early on a Friday night. Miss M doesn't drink too much, so she wasn't offended when I said I wasn't going to imbibe. (Honestly, you should see the looks on some people's faces! It's as if I've told them I'm taking away their booze as well as my own.) We feasted on Sake's excellent menu - grilled chicken and zucchini skewers, assorted sashimi (including some of the freshest, tastiest tuna sashimi I've ever eaten), spicy miso chips with salmon and tuna sashimi (a big hit; if only there were more than four on the plate!!), the crispiest and best salt and pepper tofu I've ever had, butterfish lettuce cups (a must), green salad, and a Philadelphia handroll (skip this one: cream cheese in sushi??? Not for me). The food was all excellent, the cute waiter deserved every penny of his tip...but I couldn't help but think there was something missing. That's right: hooch. Every time someone else received their sake or wine or beer or champagne, I felt a little twinge, the way diabetics must feel when their awful friend orders the profiteroles for dessert.
But never mind, because the following week, I went back to Sake with my considerably more booze-friendly friend D, who happily joined me in a glass of Pinot Noir. It was a soggy mess of a Sydney night, so we holed up cosily at Sake with dynamite and spider maki rolls, chicken ka-arage with assorted salsas (not to be missed - it will make you rethink fried chicken) and some disappointingly bland prawn and lotus skewers. But in all, Sake is a delight. The service is excellent, the food even better and the drinks menu extensive. Next time, I must try the chocolate fondant...even if I'm dining with a diabetic.
Sake
12 Argyle Street
The Rocks
Sydney
+61 2 9259 5656
www.sakerestaurant.com.au
Saturday, February 13
the little snail
In preparation for our European honeymoon, I'm learning French. Here are some of the words I know: "Bonjour!"; "Merci!"; "Mon dieu!"; "Au revoir!"; "Croissant!". Are you impressed yet? I thought so.
Last week, Caliban took me to The Little Snail (the French, if you're wondering, would refer to this as "Le Petit Escargot"...that's just a little something I picked up) in Pyrmont. He'd been before, but I hadn't. I was incredibly excited, as I love French food and I've heard good things about the restaurant. Also, I love escargots.
The restaurant was near empty when we arrived at 7pm, yet the waiter sat us right next to the piano...where the jazz singer was about to set up shop. Not a great sign. We asked to be moved, and the waiter whisked us upstairs. Much better.
We ordered a bottle of chardonnay and our entrees - escargots for me and salmon terrine for Caliban. Less than five minutes later, we had our first dishes. Again, not a great sign. The escargots were lovely - properly buttery and packed with herbs and garlic. My white dress didn't agree so much...so I took to wearing my napkin as a bib after the first splatter of butter hit the silk. Caliban's salmon terrine wasn't as good - slices of smoked salmon forged together with generous smears of cream cheese didn't quite live up to the lofty expectations of salmon terrine.
For our mains, Caliban ordered the seafood plate and I the kangaroo fillet. Again, they were at our table just minutes after we finished our entrees. I really love eating out, and so I want it to be an enjoyable, relaxing, even languid experience. I don't want to feel as though I'm being rushed...but that's exactly what this felt like. We took our time with our main dishes, though. Mine was superb. The kangaroo was served rare (as it should be) with a beautifully soft, flavoursome honey demi-glaze. The sweetness of the honey tempered the gamey bite of the kangaroo. Caliban, unfortunately, got the raw prawn again. Or should I say, the fried prawn. Almost everything on his seafood plate was fried, except the mussels. Quelle disappointment! I'm always puzzled why seafood plates are so often comprised of fried calamari, crab and prawns. Seafood in Australia - in Sydney, no less - is so fresh and tasty that you really don't need to do much to it. It's such a shame to deep-fry such gorgeous produce.
We requested a break between our mains and dessert, but again, our dishes were served within minutes of each other. My fresh, homemade profiteroles were great - beautifully light choux pastry filled with silky custard. Poor Caliban - his "Tasmanian brie with raisin puree and spiced carrot salad" just wasn't any good. And that's being kind. The "brie" was clearly from a supermarket and wasn't served at room temperature. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's cheese served incorrectly. I mean, how hard is it to take the cheese out of the fridge before serving? Sheesh. Feeling bad for poor Caliban, I gave him one of my profiteroles, which he loved.
At over $170 for the two of us, The Little Snail was overpriced and underwhelming. Je ne suis pas impressed.
The Little Snail
50 Murray St, Pyrmont
+61 2 9212 7512
www.thelittlesnail.com.au
Last week, Caliban took me to The Little Snail (the French, if you're wondering, would refer to this as "Le Petit Escargot"...that's just a little something I picked up) in Pyrmont. He'd been before, but I hadn't. I was incredibly excited, as I love French food and I've heard good things about the restaurant. Also, I love escargots.
The restaurant was near empty when we arrived at 7pm, yet the waiter sat us right next to the piano...where the jazz singer was about to set up shop. Not a great sign. We asked to be moved, and the waiter whisked us upstairs. Much better.
We ordered a bottle of chardonnay and our entrees - escargots for me and salmon terrine for Caliban. Less than five minutes later, we had our first dishes. Again, not a great sign. The escargots were lovely - properly buttery and packed with herbs and garlic. My white dress didn't agree so much...so I took to wearing my napkin as a bib after the first splatter of butter hit the silk. Caliban's salmon terrine wasn't as good - slices of smoked salmon forged together with generous smears of cream cheese didn't quite live up to the lofty expectations of salmon terrine.
For our mains, Caliban ordered the seafood plate and I the kangaroo fillet. Again, they were at our table just minutes after we finished our entrees. I really love eating out, and so I want it to be an enjoyable, relaxing, even languid experience. I don't want to feel as though I'm being rushed...but that's exactly what this felt like. We took our time with our main dishes, though. Mine was superb. The kangaroo was served rare (as it should be) with a beautifully soft, flavoursome honey demi-glaze. The sweetness of the honey tempered the gamey bite of the kangaroo. Caliban, unfortunately, got the raw prawn again. Or should I say, the fried prawn. Almost everything on his seafood plate was fried, except the mussels. Quelle disappointment! I'm always puzzled why seafood plates are so often comprised of fried calamari, crab and prawns. Seafood in Australia - in Sydney, no less - is so fresh and tasty that you really don't need to do much to it. It's such a shame to deep-fry such gorgeous produce.
We requested a break between our mains and dessert, but again, our dishes were served within minutes of each other. My fresh, homemade profiteroles were great - beautifully light choux pastry filled with silky custard. Poor Caliban - his "Tasmanian brie with raisin puree and spiced carrot salad" just wasn't any good. And that's being kind. The "brie" was clearly from a supermarket and wasn't served at room temperature. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's cheese served incorrectly. I mean, how hard is it to take the cheese out of the fridge before serving? Sheesh. Feeling bad for poor Caliban, I gave him one of my profiteroles, which he loved.
At over $170 for the two of us, The Little Snail was overpriced and underwhelming. Je ne suis pas impressed.
The Little Snail
50 Murray St, Pyrmont
+61 2 9212 7512
www.thelittlesnail.com.au
Thursday, February 11
bills: a sydney institution
Bills, in Surry Hills, is one of my favourite places to eat. You always know you're going to get great food at Bills. Owned by celebrity chef Bill Granger, by day it's an amazing cafe, and at night, it moonlights as a great bistro-style restaurant. The waitstaff are friendly and chatty (but not creepy), and never, ever pretentious. The food isn't the most inventive or creative, but it's always made and presented beautifully. And at an average of $25 for a dinner main, it represents great value.
My friend Miss C and I went to Bills last night after an unsuccessful attempt to secure a table (sans reservation, admittedly) at The Winery. Neither of us was drinking (I'm doing FebFast, C had to drive) so sticking around without food wasn't so appealing. We walked up the road to Bills, found a table immediately and got stuck into some mineral water. It was a pretty crazy Friday night.
We ordered a mozzarella and saffron risotto ball each to begin with. I don't know about you, but I've never met a risotto ball I didn't like (except for my own, I can never get the crunchy texture quite right). These were no exception - crunchy on the outside, gooey, creamy risotto inside and chunk of mozzarella smack-bang in the middle. A side of homemade tomato sauce added a kick. Yum. The only question: why did we only order two??
We both ordered the lamb kofta for our main, and neither was disappointed. Three juicy, spicy kofta kebabs served with grilled flatbread, tomato and mint salad and a capsicum-almond relish: delightful. It was such a great example of how Bill cooks. Fresh, locally sourced ingredients served without too much fuss. You know how great dancers make dancing look really easy? Bill makes cooking look really easy, because he's so damned good at it.
Miss C was full to the brim, but I felt I deserved dessert as I wasn't drinking. I ordered the ginger biscuit icecream sandwich with butterscotch sauce...and it was ah-mah-zing. At first, though, I assumed they'd mistakenly given us two servings, as there were two sandwiches on the plate. Not so - two sandwiches is one serving, meant for one person. Personally, I think that's way too big, but if you're really into desserts, you'll enjoy. The ginger biscuits were fabulous: clearly fresh and homemade, and with that great spicy kick of ginger. Yum. Vanilla bean icecream held the biscuits together, and a wildly delicious butterscotch sauce was poured over the top. Pinch me, I'm in dessert heaven.
Bills
359 Crown St, Surry Hills (also Woollahra and Darlinghurst)
www.bills.com.au
+61 2 9360 4762
My friend Miss C and I went to Bills last night after an unsuccessful attempt to secure a table (sans reservation, admittedly) at The Winery. Neither of us was drinking (I'm doing FebFast, C had to drive) so sticking around without food wasn't so appealing. We walked up the road to Bills, found a table immediately and got stuck into some mineral water. It was a pretty crazy Friday night.
We ordered a mozzarella and saffron risotto ball each to begin with. I don't know about you, but I've never met a risotto ball I didn't like (except for my own, I can never get the crunchy texture quite right). These were no exception - crunchy on the outside, gooey, creamy risotto inside and chunk of mozzarella smack-bang in the middle. A side of homemade tomato sauce added a kick. Yum. The only question: why did we only order two??
We both ordered the lamb kofta for our main, and neither was disappointed. Three juicy, spicy kofta kebabs served with grilled flatbread, tomato and mint salad and a capsicum-almond relish: delightful. It was such a great example of how Bill cooks. Fresh, locally sourced ingredients served without too much fuss. You know how great dancers make dancing look really easy? Bill makes cooking look really easy, because he's so damned good at it.
Miss C was full to the brim, but I felt I deserved dessert as I wasn't drinking. I ordered the ginger biscuit icecream sandwich with butterscotch sauce...and it was ah-mah-zing. At first, though, I assumed they'd mistakenly given us two servings, as there were two sandwiches on the plate. Not so - two sandwiches is one serving, meant for one person. Personally, I think that's way too big, but if you're really into desserts, you'll enjoy. The ginger biscuits were fabulous: clearly fresh and homemade, and with that great spicy kick of ginger. Yum. Vanilla bean icecream held the biscuits together, and a wildly delicious butterscotch sauce was poured over the top. Pinch me, I'm in dessert heaven.
Bills
359 Crown St, Surry Hills (also Woollahra and Darlinghurst)
www.bills.com.au
+61 2 9360 4762
Tuesday, February 9
sydney diet
New York magazine's food blog, Grub Street, has a weekly column called N.Y Diet. It's a glimpse into the fridges, takeout containers and restaurant visits of New Yorkers - a week on their plates.
I'd love for readers to get involved with DDS and send me their Sydney Diets. If you'd like to get involved, send me an email at lms2805@gmail.com.
I'd love for readers to get involved with DDS and send me their Sydney Diets. If you'd like to get involved, send me an email at lms2805@gmail.com.
Friday, February 5
was this the worst lunch ever?
Possibly. I'll keep this short, because I don't enjoy talking about bad food experiences. But this completely lacklustre meal must be talked about...so here goes.
In my humble opinion, tourist trap restaurants ought to be good. Really good. They charge exorbitant amounts of cash for lattes and biscotti, so they'd better be serving something out of this world. More to the point, tourist traps serve tourists - people who spend enormous amounts of money in this country of ours. Let's keep them happy, OK?
Unfortunately, the food in tourist trap restaurants, like those in Sydney's Darling Harbour or Queen Victoria Building, is somewhere between "this banana bread is like every other piece of banana bread I've ever eaten" (that's the better end of the spectrum, mind you) or "this banana bread is two weeks old." Yesterday, I dined at a two-week-old banana bread cafe.
Queen's Cafe does not live up to its name. Not by a long shot. The menu is small (usually a good thing: I think huge menus are scary...how can a chef possibly know how to cook 23 main meals expertly...and how fresh are all the ingredients he needs for them?) and frankly, boring. Ham and cheese sandwich, anyone? Pumpkin soup? Ham is big at the Queen's Cafe - it features in all three of its main food genres: sandwiches, salads and tarts. I'm not big on ham, so I order a Smoked Salmon Salad, which, at $13.90, is definitely the worst food investment I've ever made.
I really wish I'd taken a photo, because my description just doesn't do my poor, tiny, overpriced salad justice. But close your eyes, dear reader, and picture something like this: a bed of wet iceberg lettuce. Three slices of tomato. Four slices of cucumber. One slice of pink, not-so-fresh looking smoked salmon. An inordinate squeeze of storebought creamy dressing. It was, in other words, gross. I mean, it's summer, people! Fresh vegetables are everywhere, and pretty cheap, too. It's so disappointing to get a bad salad, when there are so many amazing salads around. One of my regular lunchtime haunts is Speed Bar, on Park St in the city. Their $9 tuna salad is to die for. Baby spinach and rocket, fetta, tuna, sundried and regular tomato, cucumber, avocado, capsicum, a poached egg and rye bread to serve - now that is a salad.
Queen's Cafe
Queen Victoria Building
Sydney
Speed Bar
Shop 1, 27 Park St
Sydney
In my humble opinion, tourist trap restaurants ought to be good. Really good. They charge exorbitant amounts of cash for lattes and biscotti, so they'd better be serving something out of this world. More to the point, tourist traps serve tourists - people who spend enormous amounts of money in this country of ours. Let's keep them happy, OK?
Unfortunately, the food in tourist trap restaurants, like those in Sydney's Darling Harbour or Queen Victoria Building, is somewhere between "this banana bread is like every other piece of banana bread I've ever eaten" (that's the better end of the spectrum, mind you) or "this banana bread is two weeks old." Yesterday, I dined at a two-week-old banana bread cafe.
Queen's Cafe does not live up to its name. Not by a long shot. The menu is small (usually a good thing: I think huge menus are scary...how can a chef possibly know how to cook 23 main meals expertly...and how fresh are all the ingredients he needs for them?) and frankly, boring. Ham and cheese sandwich, anyone? Pumpkin soup? Ham is big at the Queen's Cafe - it features in all three of its main food genres: sandwiches, salads and tarts. I'm not big on ham, so I order a Smoked Salmon Salad, which, at $13.90, is definitely the worst food investment I've ever made.
I really wish I'd taken a photo, because my description just doesn't do my poor, tiny, overpriced salad justice. But close your eyes, dear reader, and picture something like this: a bed of wet iceberg lettuce. Three slices of tomato. Four slices of cucumber. One slice of pink, not-so-fresh looking smoked salmon. An inordinate squeeze of storebought creamy dressing. It was, in other words, gross. I mean, it's summer, people! Fresh vegetables are everywhere, and pretty cheap, too. It's so disappointing to get a bad salad, when there are so many amazing salads around. One of my regular lunchtime haunts is Speed Bar, on Park St in the city. Their $9 tuna salad is to die for. Baby spinach and rocket, fetta, tuna, sundried and regular tomato, cucumber, avocado, capsicum, a poached egg and rye bread to serve - now that is a salad.
Queen's Cafe
Queen Victoria Building
Sydney
Speed Bar
Shop 1, 27 Park St
Sydney
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