The Humble Herring

When I first arrived in Amsterdam in April, I was told that I must try raw herring (haring), that this was Holland's food star, next to Stroopwafels and Gouda cheese. I looked and looked, but realised the timing wasn't right. I was too early. Fishmongers catch these special (minimum 16% fat) herring from mid-May to mid-July in the North Sea, and the first Hollandse Nieuwe ('Holland's new herring') only start to appear on the market at the beginning of June.

Instead of being raw, like sashimi, the herring is actually soused. This means that it's been marinated in a brine which enhances the herring's natural flavours, gives the fish a gorgeous melt-in-the-mouth texture, and preserves them for months of future enjoyment.

Rotterdam Blaak Market

Broodje Haring literally translates to 'herring sandwich' 

When I returned to Holland in June, this was one of my missions: find raw herring. And happily, I didn't have to look far. As a nation-awaited Dutch delicacy (also signalling the beginning of summer), the Hollandse Nieuwe was being celebrated at every fishmonger in sight. I eagerly ordered a broodje haring (herring sandwich) at the Rotterdam Blaak market and as soon as I bit into it, I was in heaven. The fresh, soft-as-goose-down-bread roll was a delightful backdrop to the raw herring and accompaniment of diced white onions, whose sweetness accentuated the herring's mellow yet rich flavour and texture.

Shared Lunches (#1 and #2)

I've started making lunch for work.  Not just for myself, but for the people I work with.  Part I-love-cooking-and-cooking-for-people and part can-I-really-make-food-that-people-would-pay-for?, I'm both excited and nervous to put the money where my mouth is.

For my bosses, I've guaranteed minimal time out of my expected working hours to do this, meaning I have to be thoughtful in what I prepare.  Majority of prep time should be accomplished at home and simple final touches and/or assembly left for the office. I've also limited the number of serves available each week because I need to cart it all in...!

Shared Lunch #1 was: Vietnamese-style Banh Mi with combination roasted pork loin and Chinese BBQ pork with homemade daikon and carrot pickle, pate, cucumber, coriander leaves and Sriracha in an Acme baguette.  As with any good Vietnamese dish, there is a good balance of salty, sour, sweet and spicy (I posted something similar here) and in my mind, you can't beat it.

I bought the Chinese BBQ pork from the biggest local Asian supermarket, that also makes it's own in-house BBQ and pickles, and the pork loin from the butchery around the corner which I roasted in chicken fat (from the soy honey roast chicken I prepared for the previous night's dinner) to a perfect blushing pink. The daikon and carrot pickle was made to this recipe and the cracked pepper pate was store-bought.

(l-r, clockwise) Coriander, pate, homemade carrot and daikon pickle, Acme baguettes, roasted pork loin and char siu.

Whole baked kahawai

Fresh off the south coast of Wellington, my boyfriend picked up a nice little 45cm kahawai with the help of the Yogi Berry (the boat/dinghy) and it's captain.  Last night, without scaling (we were a bit lazy) we butterflied it as if to smoke it but baked it whole with a simple stuffing.

Before and after

Whole baked kahawai (serves 3 hungry people with sides)

Whole fresh kahawai, head removed, gutted and butterflied with back bone removed
2 inches white part of leek, as thinly sliced as possible
2 spring onion, thinly sliced (white and green parts)
2 Tbsp freshly chopped parsley
Juice of 1 lemon (however, I didn't have a lemon so we used lime instead)
1 tsp Maldon sea salt (I actually used Salish Alder Smoked salt, see following post)
1/2 c homemade breadcrumbs (I like using my own as it has more texture but any breadcrumbs would be fine)
Decent glug of grapeseed or olive oil

Preheat oven to 180deg on fan bake and place kahawai on prepared oven tray.  Mix all other ingredients together, incorporating oil as much as possible so when cooking the stuffing doesn't catch.  Spread evenly over the fish pressing firmly to help everything stay together.  Drizzle lightly with a bit of extra oil and bake for around 35-40 minutes (depending on size of fish), with foil placed over for the first half of cooking time.  Test for doneness at the thickest part of the fish at 30 minutes to gauge how much longer it might need as you'll want it just cooked.

Serve with pan-fried potatoes (parboiled, cooled and then fried in hot pan with a little oil) and salad for a great dinner.

I want to go to Venice

Last week I went to the new restaurant Ombra twice, and loved it.  Twice.  Meanwhile, a couple of weeks ago, I spent my lunch break reading Polpo: A Venetian Cookbook of Sorts by Russell Norman and found myself wanting to make and eat everything immediately (besides loving the cover and craftsmanship of the book itself).  In fact, I've just ordered it online.  The common thread?  Venice.

Ombra, corner of Cuba and Vivian Street, Wellington

Ombra is Wellington's newest addition to the restaurant scene and the first one to get me really excited in recent months.  Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of great places to eat in this lovely city but maybe it's because I've lived here for around 7 years now that I've started to get a bit bored and a little miffed by how much it costs to eat mediocre food.  However, I do have high standards and it's often really the service that let the whole show down.  The most recent additions that have gotten me talking (food-wise) were Prefab, Pickle and Big Bad Wolf, but for Cuba Street, Ombra has lifted it's whole game up.

While the cafe and restaurant scene in Wellington is worthy of it's own post, today is just about Ombra.  I went for two successive days of lunch breaks, each with a different set of people, yet the reactions were the same.  It was good.  The maitre d' explained to us that ombra means "shadow", referring to the time when merchants kept their wine cool by wheeling their carts from one shady spot to another.  These days, ombra is slang for a small glass of wine which makes it a shame that we weren't able to enjoy the beverage list (an excuse for another time).

As for the food: the cicheti are what make the bacaro.  Small plates, or simply bar snacks, they're similar to Spanish tapas but completely unique to Venice.   Typically the cicheti menu consists of dishes like (but not limited to) crostini, arancini, crocchette (croquette) and a version of sardines, but here is only where you warm up.  Both days in Ombra, I had baccala crostini which is salt cod whipped into a creamy luscious mousse served over a perfectly crusty slice of bread.  A sensational contrast of textures, it was rich but light.  The arancini used a tomato-base risotto which I wasn't particularly partial to, but the crisp crumb to it's exterior was exactly that: as it should be.

Baccala Crostini

Kedgeree: my kind of breakfast

I've never been into cereal or jams.  On a rare occasion, I'll crave sweet crepes topped with lemon juice and sugar, or cinnamon-crusted french toast served with fresh berries, maple syrup and a dusting of icing sugar.  Sometimes I'll even yearn for a glazed apricot danish, one complete with a smooth custard filling perfectly complementing the tartness of the fruit and light crispiness of the pastry.  For the other 362 days out of the year, however, I want savoury.

Photo from Seasaltwithfood.com

While I enjoy the traditional, like an omelette with mushrooms, cheese and fresh herbs within or a full Irish breakfast with both black and white puddings, I most desire a non-western style breakfast.  Dishes like Huevos Rancheros (eggs served with refried beans on fresh corn tortillas and ample salsa atop, lime on the side); Nasi Lemak (Malaysia's national dish composed of steamed rice cooked in coconut milk, fried anchovies, slices of cucumber, roasted peanuts, sambal and a sliced boiled egg with the addition of rendang as a post-breakfast variation); or the simple Spanish 'pan con tomate' (toasted bread rubbed with garlic and tomato, drizzled in good olive oil and a pinch of sea salt): these are the types of morning meals that excite me most, the ones that make me pause and think, smiling, "this is so good!"

Another such breakfast is kedgeree.  A dish I've been wanting to make for awhile now, a visit to the brilliant Nikau Cafe on Friday for lunch gave me an extra push of inspiration.  Nikau has long been renowned for their kedgeree and I am sure at least half of their customers must order this at least every second visit.   They even sell their recipe as a lovely teatowel.  Like most things though, and especially food, there are many variations of the basic idea.