Now that I am officially once more residing in New Zealand, there are lots of things that I'd like to do. Things I need to learn how to do. One of these is making Japanese food.
Food is one of my great loves, following close on the heels of sunshine and fresh air, and leading travel by a long neck. While I can't claim to be Michelin-star quality, there are several things I do well, and some that, with a little more attention, I could probably make money from, as long as I'm not drinking wine while I cook it.
I'm pretty good at Italian, Greek and even French. I've tried my hand at simple Indian, Thai and Chinese. But Japanese has always been left to a 'dining out' choice. Bit of a shame really, when I love it so much.
Now, take sashimi. I reckon that's a breeze. All you need is really fresh fish, a very sharp knife and a little bit of hand-eye coordination so you slice the fish and not your fingers. I already have some rather special Japanese knives (bought from the seriously amazing Tokyu Hands store in Tokyo, but that's another story). And I know where to get some fresh fish (Auckland Fish Market). And most of the time, my fingers keep themselves away from sharp implements. Sushi though, has a few more challenges. So this is what I've chosen to get the Japanese ball rolling. Although it's a cliche, it's a great summer starter. And you can buy most of the ingredients in the supermarket, including the bamboo roll thingy. I give myself until November 20th to make it for the first time. Anyone want to volunteer as a guinea pig?
By the way, I will post some piccies of the lovely Japanese ceramic knives here in a day or so. They're sharper than stainless knives, and can cut practically anything, except pumpkin, apparently because they don't flex. Or are pictures of knives a bit weird? Never mind, I know those of you who cook will appreciate my knives. Won't you?
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Thursday, 13 November 2008
Wednesday, 21 May 2008
Mission 030: Where Susan decides to become a neo-Italian mama
I am in Siena, Italy at the moment, and due to a freak weather pattern (stormy and very rainy - typically more English than the Italian weather the Buckwell and I know and love), we are spending a lot of time eating, or browsing food stores while wiping dribble from our chins.
A quick sample from yesterday's menu:
- Pici(Big fat strands of a spaghetti-like pasta) with parmesan and pepper for the Buckwell
- Ravioli alla maremmani (not sure what maremmani is, sorry) with rustic chunky pesto oozing all over it for me
- Some zucchini trifolate to share ( which seems to be sauteed zucchini in olive oil)
And a half litre of wine plus a bottle of sparkling mineral water to wash it down
Then we moved on to wander the local supermarket, where we observed no less than 55 types of pasta on the shelves or in the fridge.
There were:
tortellini
ravioli
gnocchi
cannoli
pici (also seems to be known as bagoli)
tagliatelle
lasagne
spaghetti
fedelini
linguine
tortiglioni
cavatappi
penne rgate
fusilli
pipe rigate
rotelle
pennoni rigate
casarecce
farfalle
sopraffini
digitale rigati
dischi
gallanini
anelli
stellette
digitale piccoli rigate
avena
filini
gigli
amorosi
mini penne rigate
capellini
spahettini
vermecellini
bavettine
corallini
pintine
tempestine
sedani rigati
mezze penne rigate
gnochetti
orechiette
reginette
penne lisce
nastrini
pipette
dischi volanti
bucatini
mezze maniche rigate
trenette
spahettoni
lasagnette ricce
fettucine
taglerini
cavatelli
So. Are you impressed that I stood there and wrote it all down? I got a few funny looks, I can tell you. However, the outcome of all this is that I have decided to perfect my pasta-making skills. Luckily, the Buckwell and I own a pasta machine, which I have used (and he has eaten the results from). It may have been used twice. However, as soon as we re-settle after this trip, I am going to become the homemade pasta queen - a neo, or rather pseudo (because as far as I know I have no Italian ancestry), Italian mama in the kitchen. But first I shall need a few essential ingredients:
- a louder voice
- a bigger bosom
- stout shoes (this should be easy as I have big feet anyway)
- a poster of the madonna holding baby jesus
- some fake flowers to arrange around the poster
Once I have assembled all that, you're all invited round for Sunday lunch...
A quick sample from yesterday's menu:
- Pici(Big fat strands of a spaghetti-like pasta) with parmesan and pepper for the Buckwell
- Ravioli alla maremmani (not sure what maremmani is, sorry) with rustic chunky pesto oozing all over it for me
- Some zucchini trifolate to share ( which seems to be sauteed zucchini in olive oil)
And a half litre of wine plus a bottle of sparkling mineral water to wash it down
Then we moved on to wander the local supermarket, where we observed no less than 55 types of pasta on the shelves or in the fridge.
There were:
tortellini
ravioli
gnocchi
cannoli
pici (also seems to be known as bagoli)
tagliatelle
lasagne
spaghetti
fedelini
linguine
tortiglioni
cavatappi
penne rgate
fusilli
pipe rigate
rotelle
pennoni rigate
casarecce
farfalle
sopraffini
digitale rigati
dischi
gallanini
anelli
stellette
digitale piccoli rigate
avena
filini
gigli
amorosi
mini penne rigate
capellini
spahettini
vermecellini
bavettine
corallini
pintine
tempestine
sedani rigati
mezze penne rigate
gnochetti
orechiette
reginette
penne lisce
nastrini
pipette
dischi volanti
bucatini
mezze maniche rigate
trenette
spahettoni
lasagnette ricce
fettucine
taglerini
cavatelli
So. Are you impressed that I stood there and wrote it all down? I got a few funny looks, I can tell you. However, the outcome of all this is that I have decided to perfect my pasta-making skills. Luckily, the Buckwell and I own a pasta machine, which I have used (and he has eaten the results from). It may have been used twice. However, as soon as we re-settle after this trip, I am going to become the homemade pasta queen - a neo, or rather pseudo (because as far as I know I have no Italian ancestry), Italian mama in the kitchen. But first I shall need a few essential ingredients:
- a louder voice
- a bigger bosom
- stout shoes (this should be easy as I have big feet anyway)
- a poster of the madonna holding baby jesus
- some fake flowers to arrange around the poster
Once I have assembled all that, you're all invited round for Sunday lunch...
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