properties: it keeps the dreaded mozzies away. You’ll be pleased to know that you can now buy the powdered form in the UK from Harvey Nichols stores, or you can order it via the internet on www.herbies.com.au
Macadamia Oil
Brookfarm’s organic macadamia oil is the pride and joy of the Byronshire. It is an extremely fine thing, and when you speak to Martin and Pam Brook you can see why: their palpable passion and their search for perfection; the obvious pride in their superior nut, which is kept disease free through the use of copper; the way in which they have succeeded in reducing to almost zero the ravages caused by rats – not through trapping but by the introduction, Harry Potter style, of owls. And the way that, by encouraging the proliferation of the rainforest that surrounds the trees, they are able to keep pest control to a minimum. They grow 4,500 trees on 90 acres of prime, lipstick-red volcanic soil.
Brookfarm macadamia oil has found a special spot in my kitchen. It is a monounsaturated oil with more health claims than olive oil, a higher heating point and a milder, less pervasive flavour. Making the most of an indigenous product that lends itself to organic production seems such an obvious step that I don’t see why Australia and macadamia oil should be any less intimately associated than Italy and olive oil, nor any less respected. And in my book, it certainly beats the horribly pervasive use of (genetically modified) canola (rapeseed) oil.
However, that is only part of the story. Martin and Pam were among the first to see beyond the apparently intractable nut – its shell requires a special vice-like nut cracker – and spent two years developing their range of fine oils, mueslis and spiced nuts. These are now exported world wide, with particular success in the UK, where the lemon-myrtle-infused macadamia oil was a gold-medal winner at the 2004 Great Taste Awards. It is a delicate oil that no kitchen should be without.
Potatoes
For potato salads and braises, I use the smallest, waxiest, yellow-fleshed new potatoes I can find, so that they maintain their shape even when very tender. In Australia Kipfler potatoes – finger-sized, knobbly ones with rich, sweet flesh – work well but there are others the further south you go (for example, in Victoria and Tasmania) that are as good as any of the fabulous French potatoes such as La Ratte.
Shallots (Golden Shallots)
For reasons I haven’t delved into, what the French call echalotes, the English call shallots and the Australians call golden shallots. To complicate matters further, spring onions are known in Australia as shallots.
Shiitake Mushrooms
Always a great fan, I seem to have used shiitake mushrooms more than ever before in this book. It’s their silky, velvety texture that I find so appealing, plus their ability to soak up both Asian and Western flavours, especially red wine and brandy. Fresh shiitake are now easy to find in supermarkets but the dried version makes a suitable alternative. If using dried mushrooms, soak them in boiling water for about 20 minutes before use.
Star Anise
A flowering bush with pretty white petals and yellow stamens, this is quite possibly the most beautiful of all spices. Star anise is the dark reddish-brown, eight-pointed pod with glossy seeds – the glossier the seeds, the fresher the spice. It has sweet, pungent, liquorice notes. Common in the cooking of Thailand, Vietnam and Indonesia, it hails originally from South China. It can be added to pilafs, is surprisingly good in creamy sauces and fantastic in soups and dressings. It can be ground to a powder, which I then put through a sieve to remove the debris.
Tamarind
The long, brown pods of a tropical tree, this is a major source of sourness in Asian and Middle Eastern cooking. Packs of pressed pods, which need soaking and straining, are a common way to use tamarind. However, they are messy and laborious, so I always buy the ready-made tamarind paste.
Wattle Seeds
Despite the fact that wattle seeds are not yet grown on a commercial scale, they are already exported to America, the UK and other countries. Roasting and grinding the seeds brings out the flavour, which many compare to coffee. Use them in pastries, breads and ice cream. The acacia trees they come from flourish in the arid conditions of large parts of Australia and this has made them an invaluable aid in developing countries with impoverished soil.
Worcestershire Sauce and Fish Sauce
I thought long and hard about whether to include these in my recipes and finally succumbed a couple of times. They are, of course, not vegetarian and they can be replaced with a vegetarian alternative or light soy sauce without detrimental effect.
We all know that breakfast is supposed to be the most important meal of the day, yet very often we snatch a cup of coffee at 7am and a Mars Bar at 11. So the breakfast (or you can call it brunch) in bed bit is about making at least a weekend ritual of this much abused meal. And making it last as long as possible. The bed is optional.
I watch despairingly as someone spreads margarine and sugar-free jam on low-fat crackers. Surely an apple would be better, or a whole plateful of fruit for that matter, with some very good yoghurt and a drizzle of maple syrup. It’s not exactly rocket science.
I was brought up by highly organised Virgoan parents, who set the table for breakfast the night before. There was always a light, spongy orange or lemon cake, petits pains au chocolat, toast and all the trimmings, a plate of cheese, a bowl of fruit. Sometimes at weekends, there was pain perdu (eggy bread) or, as a treat, Moroccan beignets. Once in a blue moon we had the full English blow-out breakfast. Years of rebellion later, I’ve come back to the (breakfast) table and I love it. It’s a good way to start the day. Sweet or savoury first thing is a very personal choice (what’s wrong with a bit of both?) but I hope that, by gleaning a little from everywhere, I’ve covered all bases in this chapter and introduced you to ideas you might not otherwise have considered.
Eggs Florentine with Lemon Myrtle Hollandaise on Potato Rösti
Of course, you could serve this on thick slabs of sourdough bread, butter and all, but I wanted to include a good recipe for rösti that you can use on other occasions, and this quintessential brunch is a good place to do it. If truth be known, though, I rarely like to start the day loaded with carbs, so I’m more likely to eat just the egg, on top of a huge pile of spinach – a whole bag of it, gently wilted – hence the leeway in the spinach quantity below. The recipe includes the still not universally known way to poach an egg, so we can all turn them out in perfect bistro fashion.
SERVES 4
4–8 large, very fresh eggs
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
2–4 bags of baby spinach
a knob of butter
a pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
For the rösti:
3 large, all-purpose potatoes, peeled and cut into chunks
60g butter, melted