the world's best pinot noir

I was both honoured and privileged to be invited along to the first of the Tasting Room's wine matched dinner series, with Black Estate wines of Waipara, in North Canterbury. The TR has filled in their pit with a smart new dining area, which was perfect for the table of 16 that congregated last Tuesday. Notable guests included Alistair the grape grower, Cam and Ella from the TR, James from HospoTrain, a certain regular and his lovely girlfriend, David Burton, and yours truly.

I've noticed a few restaurants around offering these types of dinners lately, for something different I suppose - and they're a great idea. Tickets for this one were $80 (I dined courtesy of the Tasting Room though, thank you thank you thank you!) and as guests we were treated to 4 courses with constant refills of each of the 5 wines on show, making it an absolute steal.  I think this type of thing would be a great first date ice breaker for anyone remotely sociable, especially if you get nervous and are terrible at ordering off menus (I've had my moments, I can tell you).

Black Estate has most recently hit headlines for it's 2007 pinot noir taking out the top honour at the recent International Wine and Spirit Competition in the UK. Black Estate is a small family-run business whose focus is on quality not quantity. Alistair the grape grower and Nicholas (his brother in law) the wine maker are ("and here is where it gets kinky", Alistair declared) married to twin sisters, who keep other aspects of the business in check.

Len Baldwin and Janet Gray of the Tasting Room were at the helm in the kitchen, and upon being seated, a quick glance at the place-mat menu saw me eagerly anticipate pork belly, scallops and oysters, duck, and cheese. I've had iffy experiences with both duck and pork belly before, and I've attempted cooking neither, but after my dinner at Boulcott St Bistro, and now after this, I can announce that I am officially a fan of both. It exceeded any expectations I had, and was an absolute joy. And I'm even going to talk about the wine!

the beautiful Ella, Tasting Room's general manager 

We began by assembling at the bar, chatting over a crisp Gamay. The only Gamay I'd had before was from the lovely Park Estate in Hawke's Bay, but this one was light and served chilled, which was a perfect pre-summer refresher.

After taking our seats, course number one appeared, glorious, in front of us. Crispy skinned pork belly, granny smith puree and sweet honey lime dressing. Sitting across from Cam, he let me in on Len's pork belly secret - apparently to cook to perfection one must season well and then put another oven tray and weights on top, and cook at a low heat, slowly increasing the heat over time. This apparently renders the fat down and condenses the flavours. You then remove the oven tray to crisp up the top. The pork was offset beautifully with the tang of both the granny smith and the honey lime dressing. It was an absolute treat to wash down with the 2009 Black Estate Riesling.

Alistair explained that they aim for a clean mineral taste with their wines, and that their grapes are grown in clay. The Riesling is apparently 43% sugar, but still had an incredibly dry finish. It was delicious, and a superb match.

The next course considerably raised the bar. In print, it was 'seared scallops, battered oysters, vanilla beurre blanc and dressed leaves' but on the plate it was so much more. We were even treated to a hidden pile of flash fried whitebait - so fresh and creamy.

I started with the scallops - I was actually lucky enough in January this year to spend a week in Awaroa, in the Abel Tasman national park, where the boys would go scalloping daily. There's nothing quite like a freshly shucked scallop - unless it's a hot, freshly battered oyster. I'd have to say this was my favourite course - it was simple and classy and tasted like the beach!

I was in utter heaven at this point. Fresh, simple, tasty - I cannot rave about seafood like this enough. Especially when paired with my current wine of choice, chardonnay. Even though I could have had that Riesling all night, and even though my Barista recently told me he won't drink chardonnay because he's not 60, I enjoy it a lot. The Black Estate one we had was a 2009, and it was described by Alistair as a big, oaky, old fashioned kiwi chardonnay. It was buttery and full-bodied, and with the seafood a perfectly formed classic combination.

Banter across the table ensued as we paused before the duck. As I said above, I've never been fully sold on duck, having had a confit duck leg once which just tasted like fat and made me feel exceptionally ill. Matched alongside the 2009 Black Estate Pinot Noir, we had confit duck leg on potato galette with red cabbage and pomegranate jelly. The potato added the requisite texture and the sharpness of the red cabbage pomegranate combo cut through the richness of the duck. It wasn't fatty tasting; it was a beautifully balanced plate of food. The 2009 Pinot Noir was described as "dark cherry and plum on the nose". I can't pretend I noticed, but it was a classic Pinot Noir, and I kept going back for mouthful after mouthful, after each mouthful of food. It was quite the experience. Especially since it was served with asparagus as the side vegetable.

By now we'd all had more than a few, and a certain food reviewer got a little silly and pretended to snort the limestone off the rocky samples that adorned the tables, just as Alistair was encouraging people to try licking what they grow the grapes in. The cheese course came out as the wine was expertly decanted. We applauded the best pinot in the world, as Alistair humbly asked us to simply "Enjoy!". To be honest, I probably had already downed a couple too many glasses to fully appreciate just how good this was... however, even after a few, I could appreciate that it was concentrated and powerful for a pinot, but beautiful and soft all at once. I was really very full, but simply had to try the Tarago Gippsland blue cheese, served with lavash, baguette and plum chutney. I'm desperate to make chutneys as the moment - I've decided my dream job is a stay at home wife who spends all day in the kitchen. Just joking, my dream job is actually to be a travel TV food presenter. As if! I don't actually know what it is. Either way - this plum chutney was flippin' tasty. The chefs came out in time to also witness the one guest who liked the cheese more than I did. She bit into one of the blocks like a sandwich, which gave us a very entertaining end to a highly decadent and enjoyable evening.

dirty dirty satay kingdom

I have a friend who is a senior solicitor in a big evil corporate law firm. She doesn't particularly like it, but they pay her a ridiculous amount of money, apparently. She's heading overseas shortly so on Friday we had a farewell lunch. I emailed her asking where she'd like to go since she's the one leaving, and I was expecting that maybe we'd splash out for it and have one of those swanky corporatey lunches. She responded saying that one thing she'd like to do before leaving Wellington, is to have a dirty cheap roti chenai at Satay Kingdom (Left Bank Arcade, Cuba St). Malaysian food is everywhere around this city - my favourites are R & S Satay noodle house and Roti Chennai.

Satay Kingdom I frequented as a poor student, until I heard a rumour that on TV watchdog show Target they were caught for pouring curry sauce back into the pot after clearing the plates off tables. It's pretty filthy, but I was keen. If I was hungover, maybe it would have gone down better, but the roti was greasy and my vege curry, whilst vegetable laden, came in a watery thin sauce. I enjoyed filling said-friend in on the goss while getting my hands dirty, but good god I felt ill afterwards. It's cheap, which is something, so I give it a 3 out of 10 (for nostalgia reasons if nothing else).

I didn't do myself any favours by then having mexican for dinner, followed by a 3am kebab. The drunk eating habit that I'm currently cranking has escalated - last week my flatmate and I got kebabs, and then while we were finishing them in the kitchen, I decided I was still hungry so devoured the half eaten bowl of someone else's cold two-minute noodles that were on the bench. When my other flatmate found that out in the morning, he told me I was like a drunk labrador. The only other time I've been likened to a dog was in third form when the boys in my class nicknamed me Otis. Time to reign it in.

nature's candy

After another raucous double header, featuring highly sociable Friday and Saturday nights, this afternoon it's been nice to relax and recover. I made my friend Ryan afghans while we listened to the new Jakob Dylan album, and the new one by Damien Rice. Having spent most of yesterday drinking $8 bottles of Jacob's Creek sparkling with strawberries, I thoroughly enjoyed my vege feast from Fidels on Cuba St this morning.

 There's roast tomato, thyme cooked mushrooms, a crispy shelled homemade hash brown and a big ol' pile of spinach under them there scrambled eggs. It really hit the spot. While making afghans I quite fancied a banana smoothie - so often in cafes they're bland and overpriced, and I reckon my recipe rules. Perusing my latest Dish magazine, I announced that berries are nature's candy. I've declared grapes nature's candy before, but Ryan disagrees. He stands by bananas being the true nature's candy. I remain unconvinced, but if you've got some overripe bananas in your freezer and don't feel like baking them , they're perfect in smoothies because you don't need ice.

Banana Smoothie
1 frozen or fresh banana
A couple of tablespoons of tinned crushed pineappple, with a little juice
A little vanilla ice cream, or yoghurt if you have either snouting around
A dash of runny honey
A little pinch of cinnamon
A drop of vanilla
Milk

Put all ingredients in a blender, then add milk - but not too much. It depends on how thick you like your smoothies. Blend until smooth. Enjoy!

Ryan is self-proclaimed food trash, and wasn't going to have one because of the pineapple, but I bullied him into trying it and even he said it was delicious. Not as good as the afghans apparently, but a nice healthy alternative to chocolate milk (sort of) when hungover and craving dairy. I'm now going to whip up some strawberry mascarpone tarts to take to my friend Claire's for dinner. And on the blog this week? My wine matched degustation dinner at the Tasting Room, Toast Owhiro, cheap malaysian and stories of my dilemma with lamb. Watch this space.

greasy brunch at the greasy spoon

I don't know if I've done a shout out to everyone who has come onto my radar again since I started whining about being single on the internet. The emails, comments and re-establishing of contact has been both humbling and hilarious. I've also been in touch with new people, and done a lot more saying of yes to opportunities that simply would not have existed before.

One such opportunity presented itself, and so I had brunch with my smug-married sister's wedding photographer Dion. Dion is also friends with my teacher-from-school-turned-friend Esther, and he also organised the SurfAid SuperSession a couple of years ago with my friends Laura and Rachel. Nowadays he dedicates part of his time growing the popularity of his Amazing Travelling Photobooth - and believe me, having both witnessed and been a part of the photo booth debauchery which ensued at said-sister's wedding, it is amazing. When not making memories, he professes to be Wellington's connoisseur on homemade hash-browns in cafes. He's offended when cafes dare serve hash-browns of the non homemade variety, and when we ran into each other at a concert recently he suggested we do some brunch reviews ("together we can change this city!"). So on Sunday, after a quick trip to the vege market, we checked out The Greasy Spoon in Newtown (on Adelaide Rd).

It's an interesting exercise in food economics, that's for sure. Being only about 3 months old, you order and pay at the counter, and the table numbers that you're given don't obstruct the person sitting across from you (also important in Dion's opinion). It's essentially a pie cart, which does breakfasts and lunches, and serves two dollar coffees. That's right kiddies, two dollars. It's emporio coffee, roasted here in Wellington, and was perfectly drinkable. Dion posed the question, is it then that other places are just ripping us off? These guys are definitely saving on staff costs and rent, but still - that's half the price of what you get most places these days. It's limited slightly by being outdoors and thus susceptible to the temperamental weather, but it's cute and cheap and worth a visit.

The Greasy Spoon does not do hash browns, so those reviews will have to begin another day. Dion instead ate fried eggs on toast ($5) with a sausage ($2), chips ($2) and baked beans ($1). Even though I firmly believe either yours truly or Floriditas do the best eggs in town, I opted for eggs benedict with ham ($8) with a side of mushrooms and tomato ($1 each). We talked enthusiastically about a mutual love of Wilco while I wished I'd ordered the burger. A measly $5 will get you a cheeseburger featuring a homemade halal pattie, and for $2 extra your plate can be graced with chips. My eggs bene interestingly came with salad greens (alfalfa sprouts anyone?!), and I'm pretty sure the hollandaise was out of a packet, but to be fair I've had worse. I've most certainly had better, but the Greasy Spoon isn't pretending to be anything it's not. And that's why I think it's pretty sweet. On a hangover, the last thing you want is to be paying $18 for fishcakes, or gravalax, or haloumi or french toast, only to have to walk away half way through your meal and try and be quiet in the bathroom.  

We discussed the moral dilemmas of urban hipsters, and about how sometimes it appears that what we think about something seems to matter to others, more than what we actually do about it. This lead on to the realisation that sometimes what we feel gets in the way of what we know is right. Call it an epiphany, or a light bulb moment, but after reading Frankie, and having drunk advice thrust on me Saturday night, I definitely 'had a moment' over my eggy pile of hollandaisey salad. I even took a photo!

Give it a go if you're being thrifty, or in Newtown, or savagely hungover and in need of fresh air and grease. In the meantime, the stats say you want more self-deprecating humour and  tales of me embarrassing myself at parties, in front of potential suitors. And recipes of course! Who am I to argue with that? Dion asked if he could set me up on dates, to which I most humbly obliged (it was more like me hyperactively going "yeah! totally!").

Choices, existential crises due to impending homelessness, decisions; it's all happening. And even though I can't stop listening to this song by Paulo Nutini, or this song by the Magnetic Fields, and despite the fact I'm ridiculously excited about Sufjan Stevens playing in Wellington in February, I'll instead leave you with the whimsical words of Devendra Banhart - we've known, we've known, we've had a choice, we chose rejoice.      

melancholy meringues

I was feeling very sorry for myself yesterday after too many cheap reds and pints of beer on Friday night. I perked up by about 3pm, grateful to have my friend back for weekend playtime after her Friday night graduation party. We sniffed around Aro Valley before I came home and pulled myself together (read: shower, hair wash, perfume and make up) for a potluck dinner.

I had made a black doris plum cake for work on Friday, and so had some leftover plum syrup. I also had some left over plum-syrup cream, and some egg whites in the freezer. Having read about these mini chai meringues last week, I was inspired to have a go. My $12 budget electric beaters crapped out just after I added the plum syrup, so I had to manually finish them off. It took ages, but the results were successful. I used the recipe above alongside the classic Edmonds one.

Plum meringues with pistachio cardamom sugar
2 egg whites, at room temperature
1/2 cup caster sugar

Use about half a cup of plum syrup from a tin of black doris plums in the meringue mix, and about another half cup to make the plum cream. For that, add the syrup to the cream, sprinkle over some icing sugar, and beat until whipped. Do not over beat or you'll have plum butter; blergh!

Method
Preheat oven to 120*C. Line baking tray with baking paper. Beat egg whites until stiff, but not too dry. Add the sugar a tablespoonful at a time, beating until the mixture is stiff and glossy. Add the plum syrup, and beat again until stiff and glossy. Spoon out spoonfuls of mixture onto the tray. I mixed mine up into baby teaspoon ones, and bigger ones. I indented the bigger ones with a spoon for room for the cream.

Now, the Edmonds bible says bake at 120*C for 1 to 1 1/2 hours or until the meringues are dry but not brown, then cool. Wayfaring Chocolate says bake for one hour, then turn the oven off, but leave them in for 2 more hours.

I baked mine for an hour, then left them in for about another 45 minutes. They went brown during the first hour, but they tasted more hokey-pokey brown rather than just burnt.

To assemble, spoon some plum cream on top, and sprinkle with some cardamom pistachio sugar. Mine I got for a gift (again from Gewürzhaus in Melbourne) but it's simply granulated sugar, ground cardamom and chopped pistachios. They were adorable! You could just cut some slices of plum for decoration if you wanted.

The desserts were all very cute and tasty. Harriet made chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting, Hannah made panforte and Joan made chocolate shortbread with chocolate icing. Having just met Joan, and having been asked whether I "have a man" or not, and then outlining the sad, sordid chronology, she was quick to offer sage advice around deleting certain numbers from ones phone and becoming totally self-absorbed. Much like the hilarious article in the latest Frankie magazine. Justin Heazlewood provides five things you shouldn't do when you break up, but that you probably will - from "being direct" to "if you want closure start with your legs". I hesitate to say everyone does all of them, but I'm working on it. With meringues and dinners and friends and brunches. Happy Sunday x

table for eight

I had four of my favourite friends over for dinner on Thursday night. Combined with the flatmates four, we had a perfectly formed table for eight. I finished work early, dropped a hundred bucks at Moore Wilson's, came home and smacked out three courses. I live for these evenings - good friends, beautiful food and ridiculous laughter. And getting called offensive nicknames and getting mocked about well, anything really. Afterwards it was funny, I felt like I hadn't really had a proper catch up with the guest of honour, over from Melbourne for one night only, but it was just like she lived down the road and had never left so it didn't matter at all.

I decided to keep the menu simple, and as a shout out to our friend Theo taking up a job with the man himself in Birmingham, we began with Jamie Oliver's Aubergine and Mint Bruschette. I served it with extra flat leaf parsley as a garnish, and a round of the best goat's cheese I could afford on top. I enjoy vegetarian starters, and this was ideal in that all it required was a bit of assembly, rather than perfectly timed heating.

Monkfish is a fleshy white fish which holds it shape well when cooked, and so it was the main. I made up a marinade type drizzle, with lemon juice and zest, chopped dill and flat leaf parsley, olive oil, salt and pepper and some chilli flakes. I mixed it up with a fork and placed the eight 200g chunks of fish in a roasting tray. I poured over the oil mixture and rubbed it in a little before leaving it in the fridge until required. Once in the oven, it only needed about 20-25 minutes, and because of all the liquid it stayed moist. I usually sit down to a meal and apologise for something not being perfect, but I do have to say it was beautifully cooked fish (even if the asparagus was slightly overcooked and the new baby potatoes could have done with further roasting, or even steaming or boiling come to think of it). I served the whole thing with an extremely easy and effective caper and dill butter sauce. I melted some butter in a cast iron fry pan, added capers and chopped dill, and let it bubble away while I plated up.

Now dessert was crepe cake. I had decided on something chocolatey, and I was keen to get in on some new season strawberry action before we get too close to christmas and strawberries get pricey. This crepe cake graced the cover of a Delicious magazine I bought probably some time around the end of 2006. The guests of honour and I have ogled this cake since about then, but I had never made it. It was one of those things I sort of intended to make but it just never happened, until Thursday.

Essentially it is just a pile of crepes with chocolate sauce to sandwich them together, and then warmed through and served with cream. But it was satisfying because I'd never made proper crepes, and the chocolate sauce wasn't just chocolate sauce. It was a king sized block of Whittaker's Dark Ghana, melted in a bowl over a simmering pot of water, with full fat milk, cream, sugar, butter and espresso. It was luscious, but I think without the strawberries only half as good. But that's just me. I'm a fruit fan, and dark chocolate and strawberries just gets me excited. Anyway, here's the recipe, and again you can check out why I'm not a  professional photographer. You get the idea though, right?!  

  
The best bit was, after a day or so in the fridge, the leftover chocolate sauce turned into a soft, truffle-like mousse and was probably the most incredible thing ever. Lucky I didn't know about this when I was more heartbroken than now, because wow, I would have just whipped up batches and now I'd probably look like a whale. A happy, contented, chocolate filled whale.

That's a lie. The best bit was popping the champagne cork off a bottle of Veuve Clicquot off our balcony. Or maybe it was smelling the same Veuve Clicquot seeping from my skin at the gym the next morning after 5 and a half hours sleep. Also a lie. The best bit was friends + food. It really is all you need. Oh, and love x.

(will be back to bitter and cynical next time, I promise).

spiced tea loaf and a bunch of peonies

As you're by now probably aware, I am alllllll about baking for gifts. Not only is it recessionista friendly, it also just shows you've put a little time and effort into a gift.  

Last weekend, it was this loaf. It's called Fruit Tea Loaf and it's from Nigella Lawson's Feast. It's likely (if you have some dried fruit around) that you'll have all the ingredients already in your cupboard. It's dairy free, containing only an egg to bind together the tea-soaked fruit, the flour and the spices. Nigella's calls for ground cloves, and Hungry and Frozen says she used cinnamon - I changed things up by using some beautiful mixed spice my friend bought me from Gewürzhaus in Melbourne. 

It is ridiculously easy. I didn't soak the fruit overnight (I gave it a couple of hours then blasted it in the microwave) but that didn't seem to matter. It smells divine, and from the recipient of this one: "it was just about the best loaf I've ever had". High praise coming from someone whose talent in the kitchen is a constant inspiration. I assisted my flatmate in making one on Sunday for his work morning tea; we added dried cranberries to the dates and sultanas, and whilst it didn't get the paper and ribbon treatment, apparently it too went down a treat.     

In other news my Saturday was spectacularly brightened by my friend Ed whose been selling Martinborough Peonies at the Hill St Farmers' Market in Thorndon. Last week he'd sold out while we had a coffee, so he bundled me up the dregs they deemed not worth selling in newspaper and I left one happy girl. Strangers on the street smiled at me just from seeing them. Something about these flowers people just adore - maybe it's their cruelly short season, or the way they bloom to quadruple in size, or their beautiful smell, or the amazing colours which change with time. Whatever the reason, mine lasted a week and were just divine. Happy Saturday x

Cafe Polo and Lumberjack Cake

You may have seen in the news lately that Wellington was voted fourth top city for 2011 by Lonely Planet. Great news for my current home, and great timing for our city's newest Wellington-only magazine. I had dinner a couple of weeks ago with Richard, the general manager of Fishhead magazine. Fishhead is the new kid on the magazine block, being just four issues in. We went out to Cafe Polo in Miramar to talk blogging, food, our fair city and James Bond novels.

Cafe Polo is an unassuming neighbourhood cafe that just appears out of the corner of the street (Para Street and Rotherham Terrace to be precise). I'd heard good things, and it came further onto my radar when it nearly won the Burger Wellington competition with it's Polly Burger, as part of Wellington on a Plate. I tried to get out there in August to try the deep fried ricotta and feta fritter nestled in a sesame seed bun amongst spiced beetroot, hummus and toasted walnuts, with onion rings and hand cut truffled fries, but unfortunately I didn't make it.

We ran in from the rain, and were seated by the window. I was grateful, since the two extra rooms tacked on the main part seemed a little isolated. It's casual and inviting, yet there are aspects of the service, and the food, that push Polo into a more than just a cafe that does dinners. Little things - like complimentary fresh bread sticks to try while reading the menu, extremely well dressed waiters, and the laying out of crisp white linen napkins tidily on your lap. Mmmm linen.

But the food. It was very tasty. The flavour combinations seemed simple and obvious, yet had a depth and cleverness about them that left me nodding with satisfaction after most bites. My entree mirrored the popular burger in flavour but was more delicate in composition. The Zany Zeus feta fritters were served with pickled beetroot, hummus and toasted walnuts. The fritters were crumbed little cubes of goodness, and as you'd expect the salty feta was beautifully offset by the beetroot and the balsamic drizzle garnish. My main was fish of the day - pan seared tarakihi on potato puree with asparagus and crayfish bisque. I wouldn't normally order tarakihi in a restaurant, but the simplicity and freshness of the dish appealed to me, and it delivered. My dining companion went with the slightly more winter influenced options. He began with pork belly hash with black pudding and a poached egg, and then for his main had slow cooked beef cheek and pancetta on mash. Both dishes were similar in appearance, but each seemed hearty, were richly flavoured and through the flowing conversation, highly enjoyable.

I think it lived up to all the high praise it's been getting. The service was flawless and the food was lovely. It's an ideal suburban cafe, but restauranty enough to be a destination for a special occasion. I have a feeling if it was my local, it would consistently deliver.

Not wanting to come across as a greedy tart, I politely passed on dessert and opted instead for a perfectly extracted long black. In honour of my restraint, I thought I'd share with you a recipe from Fishhead magazine's food writer Adie McClelland. I was kindly given her cookbook last year for my birthday, and each time I make this cake from it, it receives rave reviews. Cafe Polo and Lumberjack Cake - give both of them a go and you shouldn't be disappointed.

Lumberjack Cake (from the Black Dog Cottage Cookbook)

1 cup chopped fresh dates (I always just used dried dates, no problem)
2 medium apples, peeled and grated
1 tsp baking soda
115g butter
1 cup caster sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla essence
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt

For the topping, combine:
50g butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup coconut (I use threads)

Turn oven to 180*C. Line and grease a 20cm cake tin.
Put dates, apples and baking soda in a bowl and cover with half a cup of boiling water. Leave for 1 hour.
Cream butter and sugar (really well!), then add beaten egg and vanilla.
Stir in sifted flour and salt, then date and apple mixture. Combine and pour into prepared tin. Bake for 40 minutes.
Remove from oven and spread over the topping. Return to the oven for another 20 minutes.

And there you have it! Keeping with all things Wellington, this weekend I'm off to see the Phoenix Foundation, and tomorrow night I'm doing dinner for eight. I also have a wee feeling more blogs with this kind of feel may be coming along soon. Stay tuned!    

restaurant image from http://www.wellingtononaplate.com/dine-2010/restaurant/13?search=&location=Wellington%20Suburbs&offer=any&style=any