grain of salt.

macaron masterclass at baroque

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!

quay, sydney

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

tetsuya’s

part of me feels this post should really be titled, “tetsuya’s: grainofsalt & the quest for the missing hat.” like many sydney food lovers, i was shocked by the 2010 removal of the acclaimed restaurants’ third prestigious sydney morning herald chef’s hat. that disbelief escalated with last week’s announcement that tetsuya’s is no longer part of san pellegrino’s world’s 50 best restaurants. (now #58) it is a truth universally acknowledged that tetsuya wakuda is one of our most innovative and beloved chefs. established in 1989 in rozelle, before finding it’s current home at 529 kent street in 2000, tetsuya’s is an australian culinary landmark. it is known for it’s unique cuisine which combines japanese philosophy with classical french techniques, and has become a must-visit for food lovers around the world who delight in it’s eleven-course degustation menu, which changes frequently according to seasonality. so, when a special occasion came up, i knew where i wanted to go…

walking down the discreet driveway, i cannot help but feel geekily excited as i anticipate the meal to come. we take our seats near the window overlooking the beautiful zen garden, and i quickly glance at our neighbours. to our right is a rather serious looking couple closely examining their fish, while on our left is a family with two small daughters. i notice their dora the explorer colouring books unopened on the table and wonder if they would rather be at mcdonald’s.

after quickly devouring some warm bread rolls with tetsuya’s delicious truffle butter, enjoying a glass of complimentary champagne, and listening to our softly-spoken waiter mellifluously describe the impending dishes, we are presented with our first course: chilled cucumber soup with sheep’s yoghurt ice cream. as you can see, the soup is intensely green and is a stunning introduction to the degustation. the flavours are at once subtle and multifaceted, and it’s safe to say my palate is well and truly cleansed.

our second course is a sashimi of kingfish with black bean & orange. i can only describe this morsel as the most delicate, smooth and heavenly piece of sashimi i’ve ever eaten. two courses down and still no sign of that missing hat…

continuing along with all that is smooth and creamy, our next course is marinated nz scampi with avocado soup & avruga. the avocado soup is peppery, yet serene and the entire dish is delightfully warm, though i may or may not already be a tad soused from an embarrassingly small amount of matching wine. i glance once more at the two little girls next to me, who have pushed aside their next dish, instantly recognisable as tetsuya’s signature confit ocean trout, in order to create space to work on their dora colouring books. it is depressingly hilarious.

with my two little friends slightly ahead in their degustation, i of course know what is going to be next. the anticipation is unbearable. this is, after all, arguably the most well-known and acclaimed dish in the country. could it possibly live up to my unreasonably high expectations, or will it be sadly underwhelming in person, much like the statue of david’s… umm… well, the statue of david. it wasn’t long before i got my answer. there it was: confit petuna ocean trout with konbu, celery & apple. what can i say? it. is. insane. a truly perfect culinary moment…

… that was thoroughly, sincerely and wholeheartedly enjoyed.

after another much-needed moment to gather our stomachs, we are presented with a fillet of mulloway with asparagus & pil pil. it is yet another vibrant, fresh dish that leads me nowhere on my quest to find the missing chef’s hat. at this point i ask our waiter if there is any interesting information he could share with us about the menu. he points out that the main aspect of the restaurant is broken up into three separate dining areas. interestingly, there is a different degustation menu for each room at any one time. according to our waiter, this enables regular diners to experience a different degustation each time they dine. “so if you dined in one room last week, you can eat in the other one next week and have a totally different experience.” “wow, that’s great” i say, swilling my wine. “who is eating here every week?!” i think. the stern couple stare at me and i think i have my answer.

by now the wine glasses appear to be doubling, and the little girls next to us are deciding whether or not dora’s shirt should be pink or orange. soon arrives an unusually muted dish: braised oxtail with sea cucumber and yuzu. it is a buttery mouthful of the most tender meat imaginable.

six courses in and i’m still no closer to solving the mystery of the missing chef’s hat. more than a little tipsy and i’m disappointed to say, ever-so-slightly full, i am greeted with our seventh instalment: slow-roasted breast of duck with smoked leeks & sansho. it is yet another example of the perfect execution and attention to detail that has made this restaurant the landmark that it is. simply delicious.

finally, we reach the last of the savoury dishes. the little girls are already onto dessert, and dora has finally hung up her backpack. the savoury finale comes in the form of a frequent resident of tetsuya’s menu: de-boned rack of lamb with heirloom carrots. there’s only so many words one can use to say “tender” before you get to “sentimental” and “ticklish” in your thesaurus, but i’m left with no choice: this is one sentimentally ticklish piece of lamb. it taste like spring on a plate and to make it all the more delectable, the “dirt” sprinkled on top tastes like popcorn. amazing.

after yet another much-appreciated break, we meet our first dessert course. on their own sweet little plate arrive a sorbet of pione grapes with summer pudding in shot glasses. devastatingly, i am forced to face an unpleasant truth: i have come to my first underwhelming moment of the meal. the first clue in my quest to find the missing chef’s hat. the dessert, while of course tasty and refreshing, does not blow me away as all the other dishes have. and, while i’m being picky, i can’t say i’m loving the shot glasses. they seem incongruous with the bold, glamorous plates we’ve seen previously. my disappointment is only fleeting, however, as there are still two more desserts to go.

next up is white peach with peach granita. icy, smooth, crunchy and creamy, it is a delightful dessert, and i am particularly happy as white peach is my favourite fruit. i adore the play on textures, and the refreshing taste, which is most welcome after such an extensive meal. i cannot help, however, but to compare it to peter gilmore’s infamous guava snow egg. when contrasted with gilmore’s technical masterpiece, tetsuya’s peach concoction seems rather simple and again strikes me as a potential cause of the recent de-hatting. of course, i am being highly critical here, like all good detectives, but only in an attempt to understand where the smh reviewers are coming from. fussyville, apparently.

after nearly four hours, what feels like four hundred glasses of wine and with our young friends having now departed, our final dish of the night is presented to us. a decadent chocolate pave with cream cheese ice cream & cinnamon twigs. it is incredibly rich, and i take heaving breaths in between each bite as i am incredibly full. the pave is topped with a few sprinkled salt flakes and this, in combination with the ice cream & cinnamon works together to create the only truly unforgettable dessert moment of the night. it is simply delicious. before leaving, one of the courteous staff informs me that i should wait a few moments as there is a gift for me. waiting at the doors, i can’t imagine what it could be, as it is not my birthday. in moments i am presented with a small black parcel and told it is from tetsuya…

you see, earlier in the week, i had called to confirm our booking and thought i may as well ask if the man himself would be there on the night as i would love to meet him. as he unfortunately was not going to be in the restaurant, i was given a gift as an apology! incredibly shocked, i left kent street in disbelief that such a level of customer care could exist in our laid-back city. upon arriving home, i opened the parcel to find..

a copy of tetsuya’s dvd that he had personally signed. it was entirely unexpected and unnecessary, but incredibly appreciated nonetheless. truly a special gesture.

and that, my friends, is what you call a world-class restaurant. yes, it is expensive, at $210pp without wines. however, this is an unforgettable and remarkable culinary experience. i would strongly urge everyone who is able to give it a go, though i’m sure you almost certainly already have, and respectfully suggest that the smh seriously reconsider that pesky third hat. i think my two little friends and the stern couple would agree.

okay, maybe not the stern couple.

degustation- marque restaurant

if, by some culinary miracle, mark best is reading this, then mark: i’m sorry.

you see, i recently paid a visit to marque restaurant in sydney’s surry hills, and with the naive enthusiasm of a new food blogger, planned to document the meal in all its finery. unfortunately, upon taking my seat, my camera decided not to work.

now, if you’ve been reading this blog, or if you’re a tourist and have had your photo taken by me, you’ll know that i’m already not the best photographer. add to that one busted camera and you get the following disappointing collection of images.

not willing to let such an insane food experience go undocumented, i persevered with the dreadful photographic capabilities of my iphone. the results are much like the film transformers 2: blurry, confusing and nowhere near as good as it could have been.

“so why are you posting them then?” i hear you ask. well, firstly, calm down, ok? no need to be so hasty. secondly, our dining experience at marque was nothing short of magnificent, and i simply had to share it.

as it was a special occasion, our party was greeted with a beautiful glass of champagne on arrival. we were informed that the chef had added a complimentary additional course to the degustation for our enjoyment- a simply stunning curried marron dish that turned out to be my favourite stop on the marque culinary journey.

chef best is not afraid of bold flavours, and it was a refreshing treat to sample a menu that was positively bursting with new and unusual tastes. the ultra-tender roast muscovy duck, in particular, is accompanied by a highly smoky steamed eggplant which is not for the faint of heart.

similarly, the exciting combination of chocolate mousse, eucalyptus and coconut in the major dessert component of the degustation was a surprising yet familiar taste. oh, and the ‘mousse’, by the way, was freeze-dried. something which can only be described as a textural masterpiece. from the almond jelly, to the morel mushrooms, the smoked goats curd, and the beetroot puree, every flavour was clean, distinct and powerful.

to the entire team at marque who made this night so special for us: thank you. to anyone who happens to be reading this: i hope my amateurish auteurism doesn’t put you off trying this incredible establishment.

check out my much-maligned pics below: