ok campers, christmas is officially one week away. if you’re like me, you’ll engage in some panicked online shopping this week in an attempt to avoid visiting those seemingly unstaffed shops that rhyme with mavid pones and nyer. 

but before you start freaking the feliz navidad out, i may have a solution for you. the macaron masterclass at sydney’s baroque bistro is a brilliant gift for the foodie in your life. and, seeing as the masterclass takes six hours, it’s also a brilliant gift for someone you’d like a six hour break from. i was recently given the masterclass as a birthday gift and decided to document the process for anyone who has ever thought about making/successfully made/unsuccessfully made macarons. this is how it went…

i arrive at baroque in the rocks at the frightening time of 9am on a sunday. this certainly isn’t an outing for church goers and/or people who like to go hard on a saturday night. who knew those groups had anything in common? 

i’m instantly greeted by a delectable display of perfect macarons and begin to feel rather excited. established in 2009, baroque is a delectably french combination of a bistro restaurant and patisserie. having recently concluded that baroque’s are the best macarons in sydney (a big call i concede, but you know i’m right), i was keen to find out their secrets. 

the class is run by the insanely talented chef jean-michel raynaud. i won’t go in to his exceptionally long and illustrious career, but needless to say meeting him was kinda like meeting a pastry rock star. i am delighted to find out that he is absolutely lovely, patient and kind. i guess you’d have to be if you had eight non-chefs invading your kitchen every sunday. that’s pretty much my worst nightmare. 

first, there’s a detailed discussion about macarons, and yes i said macarons, macaroons are the coconut cookies- don’t get it confused, people. next, we learn our day will be broken up into two parts. in the morning we will focus on creating fillings and ganache, with some time to practice piping shells. then there’s a light lunch (win) before we return in the afternoon to make the shells, pipe the fillings and assemble the macarons.  

the macarons on our agenda today are dark chocolate and salted caramel. we split into teams of two to make our ganache fillings before jean michel demonstrates the intricate process of creating a macaron shell. we learn that it is incredibly important to make the shell using an italian meringue base- meaning a meringue made with sugar syrup as opposed to one made simply with granulated sugar. this is a more difficult process, as sugar syrups are notoriously prone to crystallisation, but the result is a beautiful smooth, shiny macaron. we watch jean michel expertly pipe the shells into perfect circles. doesn’t seem too hard, i think..

… turns out it is quite difficult. we each get a tray and a piping bag and set off attempting to recreate what our remarkable teacher accomplished so easily. while i have piped before, this is slightly more difficult as it is important to ensure that the ‘peak’ that forms as you pull the piping bag away is in the middle of the shell, otherwise it will rise unevenly. control over the bag is also important to ensure you don’t overpipe and end up with burger-sized macarons, although i can’t help but think that would be awesome. the above is my tray, which according to jean michel is “not bad for a first go,” but clearly ain’t perfect. we dust our uncoloured test shells with pistachios and get ready for lunch. 

which, it turns out, is fantastic. we receive a generous serving of baguette sandwiches, roast vegetables, fries, salad and more. the food in the bistro is delicious and i make a mental note to return again for their famous sunday roti du jour (roast of the day).

back to the kitchen and we get cracking on our flavoured macarons. we combine our glossy italian meringue with icing sugar and almond meal, as well as chocolate food colouring. i try to avoid eating directly from the bowl.

next, we pipe. this time with the aid of a handy template which sits under a silicon baking mat. after a helpful tutorial from jean michel, i feel my piping instantly improve and am happy with my second tray. 

off they go to the person sized rotating oven for perfect, even cooking.

before we know it there are approximately three million macarons before us and i am desperate to dig in. i eat two within thirty seconds and another one a minute later. feeling sated, i take my remaining macarons and pop them in a box to take home. 

though jean michel was very complimentary and told us they were excellent for a first attempt, when prompted he did admit that they weren’t quite up to baroque standards (see bottom right macaron for further reference). nonetheless, they taste amazing and we all feel a great sense of pride at our creations. 

baroque’s macaron masterclass is $220, which includes lunch, a baroque apron, an entire day with one of the country’s finest pastry chefs and a box of your very own macarons. after taking part in the class i can say it is a wonderful experience and well worth the price. jean michel is a fantastic teacher and his relaxed attitude makes it a joy to learn how to much such a typically frustrating dessert. 

if you’re interested in the macaron masterclass check out www.baroquebistro.com.au and be prepared for everyone you know to ask you to make them macarons all. the. time.

merry christmas!

if you’re a food-lover, you have probably heard a lot of the “r” word lately. no, not rissole. i’m talking about all things “rustic.” these days it’s impossible to flick through a cookbook or read a restaurant review without seeing some mention of rustic cookery. sensing that this trend could have more staying power than the sundried tomato craze of the 90’s, i decided to investigate.

a quick look around the food mag section at my local newsagent reveals an array of rustic images. from wooden boards and meals served in pots, to frayed or creased table linen, mismatched plates, sauces served in measuring cups and crumbled biscuits; it sure is a rustic month out there in magazine world.

yet rustic style extends far beyond publishing. restaurants are replacing stiff, leather-bound menus with brown paper, chalkboards and printed placemats. peasant-style dishes, second-class cuts of meat and nose-to-tail cookery are suddenly chic, while shared plates and communal dining are overtaking stuffy a la carte options.

take sydney chef warren turnbull, for example. he developed his new restaurant district dining as a casual counterpoint to his two-hatted assiette. district ticks several rustic boxes. bare tables? check. wooden boards? check. blackboard menu? chalk… i mean check.

turnbull’s not alone. rusticity has made its way into some of the world’s most renowned restaurants. copenhagen’s noma serves a dish called “radishes in soil.” presented in a terra cotta pot, the dish features three radishes sitting in “soil” made of crushed malt, hazelnuts and beer. it’s a remarkably rustic dish for a restaurant twice voted “best in the world” by restaurant magazine.

other michelin-starred chefs getting rustic include heston blumenthal, whose new london restaurant “dinner” features a dress code described as “comfortable,” and ireland’s dylan mcgrath, who swapped molecular gastronomy for stone cooking, opening dublin restaurant “rustic stone” in 2010.

but is rustic just another word for lazy? after all, it wasn’t long ago that we were arranging chive sprigs, layering ingredients into ring moulds, carving radish roses and discarding any plate that wasn’t white. call it the jamie oliver effect, but I think it’s more about finding great ingredients, and treating them as simply as possible.

so, fancy getting in on the rustic scene? just remember to relax and leave intricate plating to trembling masterchef contestants. keep in mind rustic’s true meaning: “simple and charming in a way seen as typical of the countryside.” 

why not dish up on mismatched plates, place antipasto on a beautiful wooden board, or pour drinks into jam jars? you could serve slow-cooked meats right out of the pot, or gnocchi in a shallow pan.  or, swap linen and glass vases for bare tables and unusual flower vessels, like old watering cans or ceramic water jugs. another handy tip is to write your food blog in lowercase text.

and if all else fails, just throw some radishes in a garden pot. if it works for the best restaurant in the world, your family will surely love it for dinner too.

(image: rustic fritto misto de verdura at cotogna, san francisco)

you know how excited some people get when their chosen troupe of athletic professionals achieves some form of triumphant gain? well, needless to say i’m not one of those people. i’m the type of person that gets unreasonably excited about attending a highly-regarded restaurant. luckily for me, a moment just like this arose a few weeks ago when lovely mr. joe king (so named for privacy and humour purposes) took me to quay for our fifth anniversary. my excitement was so embarrassingly palpable in the fortnight leading up to our dinner that if there had been a quay advent calendar, i’d not only have bought it but would be counting down miniature snow eggs like a crazy person.

for those of you playing at home, quay is australia’s most awarded restaurant. it is one of only two australian restaurants on the prestigious san pellegrino world’s top 50 list, currently standing at number 26. under head chef peter gilmore’s leadership, the restaurant has been awarded three-hat status a remarkable ten years in a row. having received a signed copy of peter’s beautiful book*, quay: food inspired by nature, for christmas and being a general fan of his for a long time, you can understand my aforementioned level of excitement. *note, i did not refer to gilmore’s book as a “cookbook” for good reason: it is too pretty and the recipes are ludicrously detailed. also, my local woolies does not stock homogenised jersey milk or society garlic flowers.                   

anyway, let’s get to the meal before i over-hype things to oblivion. we are seated at a great table which frames a stunning view of the opera house. after a celebratory glass of tasmanian sparkling wine, we are presented with an amuse bouche of smoked eel jelly, carrot cream and crisp crumbs. it is a delectable bite. next, we deliberate over what to order. the two options are the eight-course tasting menu and a four-course a la carte menu. while we were there to taste everything the restaurant had to offer, our only hesitation was that the tasting menu does not currently feature the restaurant’s famous dessert duo: the snow egg & eight-texture chocolate cake. we discuss this first world problem with our lovely waiter, who suggests that they can include a snow egg for us, so that we are able to have the full experience we are looking for. win.

the first course of the tasting menu soon arrives. it is sashimi of blue mackerel, smoked eel flowers, sea scallops, pickled apple, nasturtiums, and tasmanian wasabi. though difficult to see thanks to my consistently terrible photography skills, the white spheres you see are the smoked eel flowers and are simply a feat of culinary engineering. the entire dish is delicate with a hint of sweetness from the apple. 

next up is a “salad”, though i hardly feel the word accurately describes the masterpiece of rhubarb, endive, beetroot, purple carrot, rosa radish, kohlrabi, goat’s curd, pomegranate molasses and violet that lies before us. underneath the purple garden you see here is the goat’s curd and the flavour combination is simply remarkable. best. salad. ever. at this point, i, being my usual obnoxious self, ask charming maître d’ ashley if peter gilmore is there. he says unfortunately not, but asks if i would like to visit the kitchen. with the humiliating enthusiasm of a price is right contestant, i gleefully accept his offer and follow ashley, leaving poor old joe king to question his decision to bring me to quay. it is much larger than i expected, as i’ve found most fine-dining restaurants have shockingly small kitchens. there are approximately 25 chefs working furiously on an array of stunning dishes. as i press myself against a wall to avoid getting in anyone’s way, ashley explains that the kitchen is divided in to five sections: first course, second course, third course, fourth course and pastry. there is a flurry of activity in each section, yet everyone moves with incredible purpose and the entire area is astonishingly clean and tidy. peter, if you happen to be reading this, those chefs work incredibly well in your absence. i hope no-one gets in trouble for letting an overenthusiastic diner in the kitchen!

fresh from my excursion to the kitchen, i return to the table to find an intriguing ceramic dome. it houses a gently poached southern rock lobster, golden tapioca, shaved squid, lobster velvet, and pea flowers. you’ll hardly be surprised to find that i think it is delicious and mr. king and i remark at the extreme care that has been taken with the lobster. a beautiful dish. 

next we have a slow cooked partridge breast with pumpernickel, walnuts, quinoa, truffle, chestnuts and milk skin. it is an unusual combination, and joe king is not entirely sold. between the walnuts, quinoa and chestnuts it can only be described as tasting “nutty”. i rather enjoy it, but can see how others may not. never mind, there are still four dishes to go.

the next delicate morsel is confit of milk fed suffolk lamb, purple garlic, jerusalem artichokes, sheep’s milk curd, salt bush shoots, fennel pollen, and pantelleria capers. i had read about peter’s passion for using rarer breeds of meat and vegetables, both as a way of bringing exciting new flavours to the restaurant and supporting the producers of such rare foods. the suffolk lamb is a prime example of this, and the taste is simply beautiful. it is incredibly tender and each accompaniment, though small, enhances the flavour perfectly. at this stage of the meal, the lovely sommelier presents us with two more glasses of sparkling wine. after seeing my confused facial expression, she tells us, rather disconcertingly, that they are from “the man you talked to in the bathroom,” gesturing at joe king. though pleased and very grateful for this turn of events, i had to wonder why joe was chatting to this gentleman, and just how charming he was in order to secure us two very expensive glasses of wine… 

… no time to worry about that now as our final savoury course arrives. it is a slow braised berkshire pig jowl with maltose crackling, prunes, cauliflower cream, perfumed with prune kernel oil. this is the stand-out dish so far, and the maltose crackling is a work of pure genius. it creates a comforting, yet displacing feeling as it evokes both the best pork crackling you’ve ever had, and the hard crack and sweetness of a creme brulee. seriously amazing stuff. ashley returns and i discuss the quay book with him. expecting to hear some empathetic agreements about the difficulty of the recipes, and how long and impossible they would be to replicate, i am startled to hear him say that a couple recently visited the restaurant whose twin 13 year old boys successfully made the snow egg. “oh… wow,” i reply. 13 year olds= 1, grain of salt= 0.

we have a small moment to compose ourselves, during which time we realise we are considerably more full than we expected to be at this stage. not that we care in the slightest, as the jackfruit snow egg makes it’s appearance. though i am certain there must be some chefs in the kitchen who are sick to death of making this dish since it became as recognisable as matt preston’s cravat or george calombaris’ odd utensil handling skills on masterchef. all i can say is, i hope they never take it off the menu. it is even better than i dreamed it thought it would be, and i am stunned by how light and dare i say, refreshing, it is. the granita is a perfect counterpoint to the crunchy meringue with its soft sweet filling. savouring every last morsel, i notice that joe king appears to be in heaven.

at last, our final dessert course (or so we thought): ewe’s milk ice-cream, caramel, roasted walnuts, prune, pedro ximénez, chocolate bark, pulled toffee, and vanilla milk skin. as you can see, this is a striking dish. though the pulled toffee looks very thick in the picture, it is paper thin and has the most beautiful flavour. surely this has to be the greatest ice-cream topping in history. 

yes, as i alluded to just now, the ice-cream was not to be our final dessert. the amazing ashley presents us with a complimentary eight-texture chocolate cake, as a special treat for our anniversary. both joe king and i are blown away by this generous act, and sit mesmerised as we watch the warm chocolate sauce being poured into the centre of this famous dessert. i am especially grateful as i have now been able to try both of quay’s signature desserts in addition to the over-the-top tasting menu. though we are ridiculously full, the cake is pure, sumptuous chocolate heaven. i can’t think of a better way to end a perfect meal. 

of course, there are still some very cute little petit fours to be eaten. sensing that we may be on the verge of a food coma/full digestive system shutdown, ashley suggests boxing them up and taking them home. several hours later, they are gleefully consumed and i can’t help but think it might be the most luxurious doggy-bag in history. 

let’s be honest, quay is a world-class restaurant. with that, unfortunately, comes a huge bill and needless to say it will be awhile before i am able to return. that being said, it is totally worth it. between the troupe of hard-working chefs in the kitchen, the original and mind-blowing recipes of one of the best chefs in the world, possibly the best view of the harbour and personal, professional service rarely seen in sydney these days, you certainly get your money’s worth. even if you went there just to try the snow egg, i guarantee you would not be disappointed. especially if you’re a strapping young gentleman who manages to score free drinks off a man in the bathroom. 

exterior restaurant image via jason loucas/australian gourmet traveller

today at grain of salt, i would like to take a moment to, for lack of a better term “spit some truth.” you see, my recent culinary tour of the united states was not all trendy restaurants, notable chefs and degustations. quite often, it was more about indulging in the less finer things in life. namely, sugar and brown food. some of these items i have chosen to showcase today. in order to give you the best indication of their individual heart-stopping (literally) merits, i have developed a scrupulous ranking system. the vascular verdict is my final word on the scale of the damage done to my aorta, while the fat factor puts it into a neat number out of ten. sit back, relax and enjoy, but afterwards you should probably go for a brisk walk. 

hot dog & fries, magic mountain california. let’s be clear: i ate this after suffering a near emotional breakdown after a traumatic ride on something called x2. google it if you enjoy roller-coaster torture, it actually involves fire. so, as you can imagine, i was desperate for something to calm me down: food. unfortunately, the options were hot dog, cheeseburger or alarmingly large turkey leg. true. so, hot dog it was. vascular verdict: had to stop eating hot dog halfway through because i thought about it too much. fat factor: 9/10.

doughnut muffin, dean & deluca new york. dean & deluca is possibly the finest of all new york fine food purveyors. the upscale grocery store is a one stop shop for everything gourmet and delicious. just when i thought i couldn’t love it any more, they blow my proverbial socks off with a beautiful marriage of two favourite food items: doughnut and muffin. the doughnut muffin was quite literally a revelation. vascular verdict: twice the excitement, triple the calories. ff: 8/10.

cheeseburger, m burger chicago. word on the street in chi-town is that the “m” in m burger stands for michigan avenue, a major street in the city, off which the restaurant is located. offering a simple menu with 8 or so items, m burger was exactly what i was looking for during that sad time between lunch and dinner. (i eat a lot, ok? if i was a pet you wouldn’t buy me). vascular verdict: your standard cheeseburger with delicious fries, as the bag boasts. ff: 8/10

garlic fries, yankee stadium new york. garlic fries are all the rage at yankee stadium, and when they say garlic fries they are not mucking around. this is serious garlic we are talking about here people, and i say that as a garlic lover. i’m talking diabolical, atomic, leviathan levels of garlic. joe king ate most of these and spent the next three days getting very sick of me telling him how i could smell garlic coming out of his pores. vascular verdict: there were fries in there!? ff: 7/10

hot dog, navy pier chicago. chicagoans are very serious about two things: baseball and hot dogs. having no interest in the former, i paid close attention to the strict rules that surround their ‘dogs. firstly, it must be on a poppyseed bun. additionally, it must have yellow mustard, chopped white onions, relish, tomato slices, celery salt and a spear of pickle. most importantly, a chicago hot dog should not and will not ever have ketchup on it. the mere suggestion of this act is morally reprehensible by illinois standards, as i soon found out. vascular verdict: the many vegetable accompaniments make it very refreshing, but… well, it needs ketchup. sorry chicago, i do love you! ff: 6/10.

doughnuts, fisherman’s wharf san francisco. i’m not sure who trish is but her mini doughnuts are so good they should be illegal. sure, they were probably an inappropriate snack choice on a very hot day at the wharf, but what’s it to you? don’t judge me! vascular verdict: so bad it’s good… then back to bad again. ff: 9/10

fish and chips, sausalito san francisco. after a gruelling bike ride around san francisco, over the windy golden gate bridge (why are the railings so low!?) and down into the beautiful little town of sausalito, it was time for lunch. sausalito is a waterfront city within the bay area, reminiscent of a european coastal town. it is certainly not to be missed if you happen to be biking nearby, as i was, albeit poorly. i was delighted to see an aussie favourite on the menu of a local restaurant, and so fish and chips it was. vascular verdict: about as non-greasy as fish and chips can get, however there’s no denying the absence of greenery. ff: 8/10

“chicken” burger, veggie grill los angeles. my frequently-mentioned-on-this-blog vegan friend bec happens to work at an excellent vegan restaurant called veggie grill. bec hooked us up with their sante fe crispy chickin’ burger (spelt “chickin’” because, well, it’s not chicken). the burger itself is made from soy, vegetable and plant proteins, and believe me, i was hesitant to try it. i’m of the belief that questions “why do you need to have fake meat? what’s wrong with just vegetables?” as it turns out, this “chickin” is a-mazing. it really has to be eaten to be believed. even joe king, carnivore, was impressed. vascular verdict: it’s made of plants! i’m so healthy! ff: 4/10.

cheeseburger, in n’ out los angeles. this was a meal i’d been waiting for an embarrassingly long time. the infamous burger chain is located only on the west coast, and this particular outlet (on sunset) is a hollywood institution. though i wasn’t in possession of an academy award like past diner hilary swank, it was still every bit as good as i had hoped/dreamt about. vascular verdict: shockingly light to eat, the cheeseburger is a mere 268 calories! win. ff: 5/10

banana pudding, magnolia bakery new york. if your understanding of “pudding” involves a cup filled with condensed milk, whipped cream, vanilla pudding mix, biscuits (actual ingredients) and allegedly some real bananas, then this is the dessert for you. it’s like a sickeningly sweet cup of banana-flavoured whipped cream. vascular verdict: i’m pretty sure i have diabetes now. ff: 10/10