Pulled Pork Pie

Whenever I fall at your feet
Would you let your tears rain down on me
Whenever I fall..
                                        Neil Finn, Crowded House

It's nights like these that I dread the most - when closely knit families gather together under one big roof to celebrate life, and friends toast one another around a tree with clinking glasses and warmed bellies. I feel lost. I feel empty. On nights like tonight I think about lost loves, white lies and aching truths. I sit by the window in the fleeting light with a mug of lukewarm tea and a lonely heart at my sleeve, and watch the world move slowly by.

Once upon a time, when I stared into those deep and endless pools of a soul's reflection flecked with green and brown, I could see myself older, still holding those same hands. There were some moments that I'll never forget: a freezing day in the underground metro, riding up the escalator with hands intertwined, soft and supple lips against my cheek; or another film night, falling asleep on the tiny couch (yet again) with reassuring arms around my waist and the warmth of breath against my neck. It's slightly depressing to open my eyes and realise that these memories are just that.. Memories.

Apparently time can heal all wounds but I'm still waiting for that day to pass. Tonight I just need to be alone. I need to immerse myself in a project that is productive but slow, something I can drag out all night to keep myself contained, a recipe that I can pour all of my love into with results that are both satisfying and reflective.

This is a completely new recipe for me. I had grand plans to do a long, slow braise with dried and podded lazy housewife beans from my garden but changed my mind at the last minute when I found a roll of puff pastry that I'd tucked deep into the freezer many months ago. Not counting the cherry pie with almond cream that I made this time last year, this was my first go at a savoury pie and I'm pretty chuffed with the results.

I collected all the bones and bits (head included) from a suckling pig that would normally find their way into the bin at work. After a quick blanch and a few hours of slow cooking, I picked the meat off the bones and used this to make the pie filling. Despite everyone in my family professing to dislike parsley, I made a parsley sauce anyway. It took me two nights of simmering and reducing, rolling and baking to make my pulled pork pie. I haven't received much feedback yet but I can confidently assume that it would be welcomed back with open arms and mouths seeing as there is nothing left aside from the polite, obligatory sliver and a scraping of sauce. Ho ho ho!

Braised Pork Bits

3.7 kg pork bones (head, bones, trotters)

3 carrots, sliced into 1" pieces
8 fresh bay leaves
5 g thyme, picked (reserve leaves for filling)
70 g parsley, picked (reserve leaves for sauce)
3 g star anise
4 cm cassia bark

Place bones in a large pot and cover with cold water.
Bring to the boil, discard water and rinse well to remove scum.
Cover with fresh water, add carrots, bay leaves, thyme stalks, parsley stalks, star anise and cassia.
Bring to the boil, reduce heat to low, cover and simmer for 2 hours and 20 minutes.
Remove pot from the heat and allow to cool.
Strain and reserve the stock
Pick meat from bones, discarding any cartilage, skin and fat.
Return bones to the stock and simmer for 4 hours.
Strain the stock and discard bones.
Reduce stock over low heat until only 240 g remains.

Roux

50 g unsalted butter
50 g all-purpose flour

Melt butter in a small saucepan.
Add flour and cook for 2 - 3 minutes over low heat.

Remove from heat and cool.

Store in the refrigerator.


Pulled Pork Filling

10 g vegetable oil
125 g brown onion, finely chopped
reserved thyme leaves (approx 3 g)
100 g white wine (I used an Australian Gewürztraminer)
240 g reserved pork cooking stock
50 g roux
30 twists of cracked black pepper
3 g sea salt flakes

Heat oil in a small saucepan and sweat off onion until translucent.
Add thyme and cook for another minute.
Add wine and reduce until almost dry.
Add pork cooking stock and bring to the boil.
Add roux and cook, stirring for 4 - 5 minutes until thickened.
Season with salt and pepper.
Mix through reserved pork meat.
Place on a tray and refrigerate until cold.


Assembling the Pie

375 g puff pastry
1 egg
2 Tbsp milk

Roll out puff pastry to about 4 mm thickness between two sheets of baking paper.
Place onto a tray and refrigerate until cold.
Use an 8" pie plate turned upside-down to mark the pie lid.
Place the remaining pastry over the plate and fill with the cold filling.
Whisk egg with milk to create an egg wash.
Brush egg wash onto the edges of the pastry.
Crimp the edges with the back of a knife.
Trim off excess pastry and cut out leaf decorations.
Stick leaves to pie lid with egg wash.
Brush the pie lid with egg wash.
Cut a few slits in the lid with a sharp knife to allow steam to escape while baking.
Bake at 200ºC for 10 minutes.
Reduce heat to 170ºC and bake for a further 30 minutes.
Remove from oven and place on a wire rack to cool.


Parsley sauce

300 g milk
5 g thyme
70 g brown onion, finely chopped
50 g roux
20 g reserved parsley leaves, chopped
1 g sea salt flakes
20 twists of cracked black pepper

Place milk, thyme and onion in a small saucepan.

Cover and simmer for 10 minutes to infuse.

Strain, discarding solids.

Add roux and cook for 4 minutes to thicken.
Add chopped parsley and cook for another minute.
Place in a blender or food processor and blend until smooth.
Season and taste.

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Pork, Beans and Braised Fennel

I eat a lot of rice with my dinner most nights of the week. I love the stuff but as it turns out, polished white rice loses most of its thiamin content during the production process. It's the same for white flour too, however flour is fortified with thiamin before being turned into bread and pasta, or simply bagged up for sale. Thiamin is essential for a healthy life and deficiencies have been linked to all sorts of nasty illnesses, most commonly in Asian countries where polished white rice is the staple source of carbohydrates.

Of course, there are other foods which can provide us with a bountiful supply of this essential nutrient: nuts, beans, milk, eggs, pork and yeast, to name a few. Always the rebel, I'm celebrating this Easter weekend with a tasty, thiamin-rich dish of roasted pork belly with cannellini bean puree and braised fennel.

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For the pork belly, I simply scored the skin all over with a sharp knife, placed it on a tray, rubbed sea salt all over the skin and left it in the refrigerator for 6 hours. Then I trussed it up, rubbed it with olive oil and threw it into the oven on a super-high heat for half an hour to get the crackle going before lowering the temperature and letting it continue to sit in the oven until the internal temperature reached 72ºC. I soaked the cannellini beans overnight, cooked in unseasoned chicken stock, strained and blended with a combination of stock, butter and seasoning to taste.

I suppose you could say that the fennel is my take on Italian agrodolce - the caramelised sugar enhances the natural sweetness without being too sweet, while the vinegar keeps it quite light and provides a balanced counterpoint to the rich and fatty pork. The Spanish tradition of eating pork with beans is a lesson worth remembering too. The cannellini bean puree is smooth like velvet in the mouth, and combined with pork, the two connect to recreate an earthy flavour combination that was meant to be.

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Braised Fennel

1 fennel bulb
1 Tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 Tbsp cane sugar
2 Tbsp rice vinegar
1/2 C. shaoxing
1 C. pork trotter stock

Heat a pan over medium-high heat.

Trim fennel (keeping the fronds).

Cut in half, then each half into 5 wedges.

Add oil to hot pan and swirl to coat the bottom.

Place fennel into the pan cut sides down.

Sear for 2 minutes on each side until caramelised.

Add sugar, vinegar, shaoxing and reduce liquid until almost dry.

Add trotter stock and reduce until fennel is cooked through and stock has thickened.

Season to taste.

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It's Hectic Hollandaise Bro

I've had a hectic fortnight involving the police, a car crash, blackout and three attempted burglaries. Next Wednesday a new boundary fence will be erected (Dad was pushing for barbed wire but my Mother flat-out refused for beautification purposes) and I'll be attempting to rig up a home security camera system - an effort to get a photo of the poor excuse for a human being who keeps coming back to our house to break in through the kitchen window.

Unfortunately in Australia it's illegal to set traps on your own property for intruders which may cause physical harm or to defend your own goddamn private property unless your life is under threat and you are acting in self-defence.. PFFT! Luckily our house is less than a 5 minute drive away from the local police station. Too bad it takes them 4 freaking hours to get here on a Friday night. Occasionally I experience nostalgia for the days when it was perfectly acceptable to follow the fucker home and kick his teeth in to teach him a lesson or two.. Oh well..

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The following is my recipe for verjuice hollandaise into which I stirred through a little pickled onion brunoise for texture and sweetness. I served it very simply - spooned over a salad of potato, bacon, tomato, asparagus and poached egg. A simple dish for when things get a little hectic.

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Verjuice Hollandaise

35 g spanish onion, brunoise
3 g maldon sea salt
1 egg
28 g verjuice
55 g unsalted butter, melted

Sprinkle salt over onion and stir to combine.

Place in the refrigerator for 1 hour.

Whisk egg and verjuice vigorously over a baine marie until thickened (about 5-10 minutes).

Drizzle in butter, whisking continuously to emulsify.

Stir through pickled onion and serve warm.

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Mushroom Ketchup

I was watching Heston Blumenthal's series 'In Search of Perfection' and I have to say that his enthusiasm for the scientific exploration of taste is quite catching. An email to Donna Hay requesting information on safe methods of aging meat at home unfortunately proved fruitless so I cycled down to my local supermarket butcher and asked for some rib-eye. He offered me a few smallish new york steaks instead which I accepted with slight reluctance before whisking them off behind the counter to wrap each carefully into a parcel of butcher paper.

Ten minutes later I was in my kitchen, tearing away the packaging and trying to figure out how I would cook them. I'd kill for a cryovac machine. They eventually went into the oven at 55ºC for 1.5 hours, looking very strange indeed with their layers upon layers of plastic wrap.

I left some baby red cabbages to braise on the hob with some garlic, rosemary, mustard and cream, picked some beans then began sorting out dear Heston's recipe for traditional mushroom ketchup with what I had available.

Mushroom Ketchup

360 g apple cider vinegar
100 g castor sugar
170 g swiss brown
mushrooms, stems discarded, quartered
118 g red wine
3 g mushroom soy
40 g brown onion, finely chopped
1 star anise
2 whole cloves
100 g chicken stock
3 g potato starch

Bring 300 g of apple cider vinegar to a simmer with castor sugar to dissolve.
Pour into a bowl and immerse all mushrooms until soft (about 1 hour).
Combine remaining vinegar with red wine, onion, star anise, cloves, soy and boil to reduce by 2/3rds. Strain.
Make a slurry with a tablespoon of chicken stock and potato starch in a small bowl.
Add all chicken stock, whisking continuously, then temper with a little red wine reduction.
Pour back into pot and whisk until smooth.
Bring to the boil to thicken (keep whisking).
Reduce until it reaches the desired consistency or thin with a little more stock.
Strain the mushrooms from the pickling liquid and stir into the thickened ketchup.

Classic Combo Never Fails

A wet and chilly Spring last year saw to it that I, along with two close friends, happened across a friendly little place in Crows Nest one night called The Burlington. My first job as an apprentice four years ago took place at this very site, back in the day when it was known as Sabatini's - a horrendously run French-inspired Italian restaurant. It was the sort of eatery where the owner Mr. Walker had grand visions of an oyster bar and fried chicken was the biggest seller. I remember the head chef calling me over in hushed tones, so proudly, to show me the "secret ingredients" in his duck confit which turned out to be nothing more than a small handful of star anise and black peppercorns, oh and that time when he tried to demonstrate how to core a pear and failed miserably.

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Since then it's been transformed and improved somewhat. A chef's jacket hangs clean and starched by the door, as if waiting for Liam Tomlin to miraculously appear and direct his way into the open kitchen. I spot an ex-Claude's chef working behind the bar and there's not an oyster in sight, much to my relief. We each order a glass of wine as we peruse the menu - I have a preference for the sweeter things in life, and so I select the 2006 Escarpment Hinemoa Riesling which is lively with fruit, honey and spice. Eventually and with a little coaxing, we settle on the scallop veloute, chicken liver parfait, ham hock terrine, veg tart, baked mackerel salad and a small portion of sirloin, all to share between the three of us.
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I quite prefer to nibble on little amounts of everything as I find that consuming large quantities of one or two things seem to dull my senses contrary to a rather more enriched dining experience. As we debate over what to order afterwards, the scallop veloute and chicken liver parfait arrive, forcing us to put our thoughts of dessert aside. The veloute made with baby garden peas is seasoned to perfection and an invigorating green, the scallops cooked just so, balanced delicately with a splash of lemon. A slice of liver parfait encased with truffled butter is presented beside a quaint pile of dressed green beans and a small plate of various toasted brioche. Fi who is not a big fan of liver conveniently changes her mind as we dig in and as the brioche disappears, we end up spooning it into our mouths solo, savouring the rich presence of butter and red wine.
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Ham hock terrine and veg tart follow next. Unfortunately the terrine seems a little dry, perhaps lacking in jelly and doesn't live up to our expectations after reading numerous gushing reviews. It's nice to see pig ears being utilised. Simply breaded and fried, it holds no flavour of its own but coupled with the teaspoon of celeriac remoulade underneath, provides a nice textural juxtuposition to the terrine. The tart is simply a square of puff pastry with a few fire-roasted peppers, olives, chevre and basil thrown on top. The Mediterranean flavours would work well together if the peppers were not so bitter. Jane is somewhat unimpressed and describes the dish as being wholly underwhelming. I eat a little more just to be certain. Ex-Claude's chef comes by from the bar on the other side of the restaurant to check on us in-between courses, perhaps because we're the only patrons under 45 and it seems, the only table not to have ordered the poached chicken pot pie. How wildly inappropriate of us.
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Our skinny waiter friend forgets to reset the table again before setting down our mackerel salad and sirloin and when we point it out to the maitre d' crockery is promptly fetched with a smile. The mackerel sits atop a simple salad of sliced tomatoes and anchovies, stuffed with Sicilian olive tapenade, the flavours are intensely satisfying. My companions nonetheless shy away from this one and prefer the grain-fed sirloin served with a side of hand-cut chips, rich bearnaise and jus - a dish I'm certain I could convince them to return for. The sirloin is medium-rare and cuts like butter. Dredged in jus, it's profoundly beefy. The chips are pre-blanched with an interior so creamy and yet so crisp and the bearnaise has such an incredibly satiny mouth-feel. Or at least what I imagine eating satin would feel like were it edible.
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We need a little help deciding on dessert as the eton mess we'd heard so much about is no longer available. The waitress isn't able to aptly describe the trifle or creme catalan however and when queried on which she prefers, she replies with: "Oh! I don't really like any of them!" and scuttles off to attend to customers at the door. Very encouraging, thank you very much. When she returns we select a different platter, the treacle tart. Another disappointment unfortunately. It is rich and moist (plus, plus) but we find it overly sweet and overly salted. The balance is there but the overall flavour is much too intense for enjoyment.
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Perhaps I'm being a little pragmatic in saying this, but in the chance of experiencing so many ups and downs in one sitting that make me feel like an unmedicated manic bipolar, I most likely will not be returning. Although ex-Claude's chef and Maitre d' are both wonderfully welcoming and professional in all aspects and deserve more Friday nights off.
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http://www.burlingtonbardining.com.au/
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Back to my Christmas menu, this dish looks awfully posh and required a bit more time to put together than my usual "Wham! Bam! Thank you Ma'am!". I must say though, lobster and hollandaise is a classic combination which works so well that when stuck for recipe ideas as I was, it should never be far overlooked.

I did a quick search on lobster dishes for ideas on presentation and well, when things like this come up, it's not altogether inspiring nor appetising. So I thought about fish and chips and fush and chups. Lobster on shoestring frites perhaps? Grilled with a little lime butter? Maybe halved and sitting on top of a pickled potato salad a la Gary Rhodes? Nothing really appealed to me.
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I'd put the idea aside and cut the menu to five courses when I came across a recipe for foaming hollandaise in one of Delia Smith's cookbooks. Foaming hollandaise.. Sounds fancy.. What's a fancy chip? Pommes pont neuf? I settled for fondant potatoes as I prefer the taste of butter over oil. The pulled pepper glass was inspired by ingredients in onion glass from Ideas In Food and the poached lobster is done in a similar method to Chinese poached white chicken which is just fabulous served warm with the foaming hollandaise. Onto another creation for Culinarty: ORR!
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­Poached RocklobsterPlace everything but the lobsters in a large pot and simmer for 5-10 minutes.
Throw in enough salt for the water to taste salty.
Bring back to the boil and place the lobsters into the pot.
Bring back to the boil then reduce to a simmer.
Simmer for 5-6 minutes then remove from heat and leave in liquid until blood temperature. If your lobsters are frozen thaw them first or simmer them for a little longer.
When cool, cut off the head and remove the tail flesh in one piece.
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Fondant Potatoes

2 medium rocklobsters
3 L water
3 g coriander seeds
20 g ginger, sliced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
3 shallots
sea salt

3 medium desiree potatoes
120 g unsalted butter
1 clove garlic, sliced thickly
3 sprigs of thyme

Cut potatoes into 6 neat oblongs about 6 x 2.5 x 2.5cm, placing them into cold water to prevent discolouration.
Drain and pat potatoes dry.
Melt butter in a small pot over medium heat with garlic, thyme and potatoes thrown in.
Let them cook on one side without agitation for about 10 minutes or until they're golden.
Turn over and repeat until cooked.
Remove and drain.
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Pulled Pepper Glass

32 g glucose
15 g water
10 g light agave syrup
2 g sea salt
1/2 g black peppercorns, ground

Place everything into a small pot and bring to 160ºC.
Pour onto a silpat and working quickly with gloves on, carefully stretch the caramel to make ultra-thin wafers about 8.5 x 7.5cm.
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Foaming Hollandaise

1 (55 g) egg, separated
15 g lemon juice
10 g verjuice
55 g soft butter
2 g sea salt

Whisk egg yolk, lemon and verjuice in a medium bowl over a baine marie (about 5 mins).
Add butter a little at a time, whisking continuously.
Combine salt.
Whisk egg whites in a separate bowl to soft peaks.
Whisk into first egg mix until combined.
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To serve, place 3 fondant potatoes in the centre of a plate.
Carefully place a piece of pulled pepper glass on top.
Slice lobster across the grain into 4 or 5 pieces and place on top.
Drizzle over with foaming hollandaise.
If you like, garnish with baby coriander and pickled eschallot brunoise.­

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Thank You For Smoking

This was my first attempt at hot smoking in my kitchen at home. It sounds mighty fancy but it really isn't too difficult at all! I first learned this method during a short stint working as an apprentice at Cafe Sydney in Circular Quay. I was only there for a few good months before being offered a position at another hatted restaurant nearby. It was a decision which I fretted over for weeks and sometimes look back on with regret. The Cafe was a place I'm sure I could have learned much from and ultimately I chose something different. It's a bit sad really, but at least I've come away with some fond memories and this awesome smoking recipe. You'll need a pot and rack that will fit inside or alternatively you could use a metal steamer insert. For Culinarty ORR I've made a sort of Asian-inspired pickle salad to go with it.

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Smoked Kingfish

2 x 300 g kingfish fillets, skin on
180 g castor sugar
200 g rice
16 g green tea leaves

Pat kingfish dry with paper towl and leave in fridge uncovered for a few hours to dry further.

Combine sugar, rice and tea. Set aside.

Line a medium pot with 3 layers of foil and pour in the rice mix.

Place the rack on top, making sure it sits well above the rice.

Heat over medium until it begins to smoke.

Place fish skin side down onto rack and cover.

Smoke for 15 - 25 minutes, checking for doneness by inserting a sharp knife into the thickest part of the flesh. If cooked it should be white through.

Remove fish and rack with tongs and cool.

Allow rice (now burnt caramel) to cool until solid then discard.

Peel away fish skin and flake as desired.

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Classic Roasted Aioli

1 bulb garlic
30 g olive oil
3 g lemon juice

Remove the top of the garlic so that all the cloves are exposed.

Place in a small pan with 1 cm of water.

Cover with foil, bake at 200ºC for 1 hour.

Remove foil, bake for additional 25 minutes.

When cool, squeeze out the cloves and puree with oil and juice.­

Pickled Fennel Salad

150 g baby fennel
240 g telegraph cucumber
22 g castor sugar
12 g sea salt
21 g brown rice vinegar
a few handfuls of coriander leaves

Slice fennel, deseed cucumber and slice thickly.

Toss with sugar and salt to coat, set aside in fridge for 1 hour.

Drain liquid, toss through vinegar, coriander and some kingfish.

Serve with roasted aioli and a drizzle of olive oil.

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Don't Look! It's Dressing!

Everyone loves beauty in its natural state, let's not deny it. Sashimi is one very simple way to showcase wonderfully fresh seafood. Tuna, kingfish, salmon and trout are probably the most common here but other species such as carp, mackerel, bass, monkfish, even squid and abalone can also be used. When slicing fish fillets for sashimi place the fillet so that the tail end is facing away from you and the thicker side is closest (this will prevent stretching and tearing of the flesh). Then with a long sharp knife slice pieces about 3mm in thickness against the grain in one movement. This is the very simple sweet, salty, sour dressing which I served alongside the sashimi of Yellowtail Kingfish and Petuna Ocean Trout as first course for Christmas.

Ginger Dressing

8 g cane sugar
6 g water
21 g tamari
20 g brown rice vinegar
10 g lemon juice
16 g green ginger shoots
8 g eschallots

Combine sugar and water in a small pot and caramelise until dark.
Whisk in tamari, vinegar, lemon juice and remove to a small bowl.
Finely slice ginger shoots, brunoise eschallots and throw everything together.
Set aside for an hour or two to let the flavours infuse.

Feeling Hot! Hot! Hot!

My last attempt at making marmalade was marked with horrendous results. I had thought about what I wanted to do all week and finally decided upon a combination of blood orange and chilli. Unfortunately, not everything went to plan. The deliciously red blood orange peels lost their deep hue during the blanching process and the chillies which I had spent vital minutes of my life chopping into perfect little squares decided that they would piss out dirty looking liquid into the pot.

I was so upset. I cried. Well, no, not really. But being the perfectionist that I am, I was determined to try again until i achieved the results I wanted! I did a little thinking while crying myself to sleep that night over the unfinished marmalade which closely resembled dirty dish water. What would be the technique to pre-process the chillies and prevent this strange occurrence? I'd read about jams containing things like candied ginger. Perhaps I could try candying chillies too?

I set about trying to find a recipe for candied chillies.. It seems good fortune was not on my side. I supposed I'd have to figure it out myself. Luckily there were no mishaps this time. I also ended up with a jar of hot red syrup which I turned into a caramel afterwards!

Candied Chillies

250 g castor sugar
200 ml water
4 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
150 g long red chillies, finely sliced

In a small pot, bring sugar, water and vinegar to the boil.
Reduce until it becomes syrupy (about 10 minutes).
Throw in chopped chillies and remove from the heat.
Store in syrup.

Desserted

I've been flicking through the small number of Asian cookbooks that I have and there don't seem to be many desserts whether traditional or otherwise. Being brought up with Western culture it seems incredibly strange! It's understandable though. When my mother was growing up in China, meat was considered such a delicacy that people who were sick from malnourishment would resort to eating human placentas. Peasants would cook up a stray dog found wandering the streets. Eggs could only be bought once a year if lucky and plain rice was what millions of people depended upon to keep their families alive during the famine that ravaged the country.

I have distant cousins, aunts and uncles living in Northern China, their lives still irreparably damaged by the destruction caused by the cultural revolution. Although we've never met, and despite my complete ineptitude with the language, I feel as though food could be a point by which we could all connect. Or perhaps not. The lack of desserts really irks me. I think that my appreciation of food really lies in the sweets department which is a little wanting in my current situation. I found myself making jar after jar of marmalade on my day off last week which really is quite a bizarre occurrence.

I think that from tomorrow, I'll start and I mean really start trying to teach myself all about cakes, pastries and whatnot. I'm not really too sure exactly how much I'll learn about desserts where I'm at now professionally. Anyway, for the moment, here is a recipe for steamed snapper - an adaptation from 'Kylie Kwong: recipes and stories'

Steamed Snapper

"essence: The naturally sweet. delicate, moist flesh of the snapper combines with the aromatic ingredients to create a beautifully balanced, subtle, clean and salty flavour. This dish is an excellent example of the way steaming preserves purity of flavour and texture."

750 g whole snapper
2 leaves wong bok (Chinese cabbage)
1/2 recipe fish sauce
2 knobs ginger, peeled & julienne
1/4 C. shao xing wine
pinch castor sugar
pinch ground white pepper
1 tsp toasted sesame oil
3 Tbsp tamari (gluten-free soy)
1/4 C. shallot julienne
1/4 C. peanut oil
1/2 C. coriander leaves

Hold snapper firmly by the tail and with a knife, scrape towards the head to remove any scales.

Make 5 or 6 diagonal cuts parallel to the head approx. 1 1/2 cm apart, through to the bone. Repeat on the other side.

Bring a large steamer pot of water to the boil.

Place snapper on a plate, cover the body with ginger and slosh over the shao xing.

Place inside the steamer and replace the lid.

Steam for approximately 10-12 minutes or until cooked (flesh will be exposed and white through to the bone).

Quickly blanch cabbage leaves, drain and chop into rough squares.

Arrange cabbage squares on a large flat plate or bowl.

Carefully lift up the snapper and place over the cabbage.

Sprinkle over the sugar, pepper, sesame oil and tamari.

Bring fish sauce to the boil and pour over.

Place shallot julienne over the body.

Bring peanut oil to smoking point and pour over the fish to soften shallots.

Garnish with coriander leaves and serve immediately.

Olive Smearage

300 g kalamata olives, pitted
100 ml extra virgin olive oil
2 g maldon sea salt
2 garlic cloves

Slice olives thinly and press dry on towel.
Lay onto baking paper on a tray, sprinkle with salt and dry in a slow oven overnight.
Grind into a powder then combine with garlic and oil using a hand blender.

Truffle Honey Dressing

300 honey
200 white balsamic vinegar
200 extra virgin olive oil
300 olive oil
truffle oil to taste

Saffron Aioli

1 g saffron threads
30 ml water
100 ml chardonnay vinegar
5 garlic cloves
8 egg yolks
2 tbsp dijon mustard
500 extra virgin olive oil
1 L olive oil
1/2 lemon, juiced

Bring saffron, garlic, water and vinegar to the boil in a small pot.
Set over a low heat and allow to infuse for 1 hour, cool.
Combine eggs, mustard and saffron mixture in a food processor.
Add oils slowly and lemon juice to taste.
Season with good salt and white pepper.

Sweet Dill Sauce

500 g whole egg mayonnaise
30 ml chardonnay vinegar
70 ml simple sugar syrup
65 g dill

Finely chop dill and whisk all ingredients to combine.

Buerre Blanc

1 L fish stock
100 g eschallots, finely sliced
5 limes, juiced
500 ml white wine
2 bay leaves
6 peppercorns
500 g butter, diced

Bring all ingredients except butter to the boil in a medium saucepan.
Reduce over medium heat to 200 ml then strain through a fine chinoise.
Gradually add butter over low heat, whisking continuously until completely emulsified.
Season to taste.

Suggestion: Drizzle over saffron-infused crab tarts served with baby asparagus and shizo.

Hazelnut Dressing

220 g hazelnut oil
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
10 g dijon mustard
110 g honey
50 ml chardonnay vinegar (v.agridulco de chardonnay)

Combine garlic, mustard, honey and vinegar in a large bowl.
Pour in hazelnut oil in a fine stream, whisking continuously to emulsify.

Daikon Dressing

1 tbsp sesame oil
200 ml rice wine vinegar
80 ml mirin
100 ml soy
60 g daikon radish
20 g ginger

Combine all liquids and bring to the boil.
Grate daikon and ginger into a muslin bag.
Place bag into hot liquid and leave to cool.

Salsa Verde

6 b. flat-leaf parsley, picked
60 g capers, salted
60 g cornichons
4 cloves garlic
40 g Reggiano Parmesan, grated
300 ml Grape Seed Oil
seasoning

In a robot coupe process parsley, capers, cornichons and garlic until fine.
Add parmesan and pulse until combined.
Add oil slowly then season to taste.

Pickling Liquid

15 L white wine vinegar
4 kg castor sugar
12 coriander seeds
12 mustard seeds
12 whole white peppercorns
12 cloves
12 bay leaves
6 cinnamon quills
12 knobs ginger

Bring vinegar to the boil.
Add sugar and stir to dissolve.
Toast aromatics in a dry pan and add to vinegar.

* for pickling vegetables, eg. fennel, cornichons, spring onions