Sorrento Ocean Beach

You thought Sorrento in Italy was beautiful? This is where I am now (map), south of Melbourne, Australia - about a 24 hour flight from its namesake.

Short of words today - too much partying. Happy New Year xx

Gingerbread house

Now - the final of my one-post-per-day-till-Christmas session. I've been working on this on and off for the last few days. It's the first time I've done it, and the kids helped. We did a pretty good job as far as I'm concerned, and I dare you to defy the family Walton. 

I was particularly disappointed to see a gingerbread sleigh kit down at the local supermarket for $12.99 today, just as we were finishing.

Gingerbread Ingredients

• 250g butter (softened)
• 1 cup brown sugar (packed)
• 1 cup golden syrup
• 2 egg yolks
• 5 cups flour
• 2 tbsp ground ginger
• 2 tsp bicarbonate of soda

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 180°C (350F), and line pans with baking paper, then get started on the mix, by beating butter and sugar, then adding golden syrup and egg yolks.
2. switch to wooden spoon or knife, then sift in dry ingredients, stirring until it forms a dough
3. turn out in sections onto a sheet of baking paper, roll to about 5mm thickness, then cut to size. Then bake for 10 minutes, and leave to cool.

Frosting Ingredients:

• 1 egg white
• 1 1/2 cups icing sugar (approx)

Instructions:

1. Whip egg whites until they form soft peaks, then sift in sugar and fold in. Colour if desired.
2. Put in piping bags, and pipe the thin end on both sides, then attach two long side sections. Sit on base (ie. in U shape) and leave to dry, propping if necessary
3. Pipe two sides of other thin section and attatch, then leave to dry.
4. Position roof using dressmaking pins, then pipe icing in generously, allowing it to flow over in sections so it looks like snowy dribbles.
5. Add door, piping along hinge area and prop until dry.
6. Decorate like crazy

If you'd like the template, please email me on admin@thehedonista.com, but it's pretty simple - I used an A5 sheet (almost the size of a "letter" page halved) for two walls and the two roof pieces, then turned it on its end, and made a pointed top for the front and back. We also whipped up a little dog house in honour of our new Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever Harry. Cut the windows and door before you bake.

Because the frosting has egg whites in it, you should consume within a few days, or avoid the frosting if you consume later. But to be honest, the gingerbread will harden too much in more than three-four days anyway. After that, it's just for display. This could be done in one day - the frosting takes about 2 hours to harden completely.

An Australian Christmas - Barbecued Lobster with garlic butter

In Australia, it's Summer around Christmastime. It kind of throws a spanner in the works of a lush winter meal like roast followed by pudding with steaming custard, mulled wine and egg-nog. There are still some that hang to tradition, but if you ask them, most people under 50 would say they prefer a seafood Christmas. We go all Paul-Hogan and colloquial, and "throw a shrimp on the barbie". But the funny thing is, we don't call them "shrimp" here, they're prawns (all except the tiny little ones, which are the things we call shrimp). And for Christmas, many of us go all-out, and upgrade to lobster.

Lobster is not scary. Just don't overcook it, or it goes tough. As soon as the flesh has lost any translucency, it's good to go, and remember it will continue to cook a little in that shell until it's cracked open like a Christmas present. Make sure the whole shell is red - sometimes when you grill things you miss a tricky corner. 

Ingredients

• Lobster tails, cleaned
• fresh herbs (I love tarragon, but chives, parsley and oregano are also great)
• black mustard seeds - about 1/2 teaspoon per lobster
• crushed garlic - 1 clove per lobster
• butter - about 1tbsp per lobster
• olive oil - about 1 tsp per lobster
• salt and pepper

Instructions:

1. cut the lobster shell about 2/3 down the back (the bit without the wiggly bits), and make sure it is perfectly clean inside, then stuff with a couple of sprigs of herbs, a sprinkling of mustard seeds and a drizzle of olive oil.
2. Throw on a nice hot barbecue (or grill), leg-side down first. Cook for about 8 minutes, then turn, cooking for about 4 minutes on each top side (it will curl so it won't lie flush on its back)
3. While the lobster is cooking, gently fry the garlic in a little olive oil, and try not to brown it. Soften for about 3 minutes, then add butter and melt through. Season well, and add chopped herbs if you like. Pour all over the lobster.

Notes:
If you can't buy the tails on their own, get whole lobster. Have a look here for a fairly good demonstration of cleaning them - or search it on youtube - there are plenty of vids. Basically, you have to:

1. kill it (if it's not already dead) - 30 minutes in the freezer or a knife between the eyes will do it.
2. Pull the head off (it comes off fairly easily, like a prawn head, with a twist and a tug)
3. pull out all the gooey bits (they will be green, black and orange, and there may also be roe on the base on a frozen lobster - it's bright red) just as you would when cleaning a prawn. I cut down the back for this recipe, so it helps me get to the entire tract without having to dig from the base of the tail. 
4. Sometimes the frayed ends of meat have stains on them from the innards - cut off the worst bits, but don't get too fussy.
5. The lobsters I use don't have claws (Omani lobsters), but if yours does, keep these - they have a decent amount of flesh in them. You can twist those off the head and throw them on the BBQ too (but you will need implements to get into them)

Just in case you don't know, if the lobster is red, it has already been cooked. You will be looking for a greenish or brown lobster. Depending on the size, most people will need a full lobster tail for a main meal, but little else other than salad. Here's a good site for choosing lobster... have fun!

White Christmas Fudge

This is the most basic of fudge, and has the added benefit of being egg-free. Like all my recipes it is very versatile - feel free to replace the flavours with your own.

Ingredients

• 225g chocolate
• 100g sweetened condensed milk
• 1 tsp vanilla essence
• 1/3 cup pistachios and dried cranberries (craisins)

Instructions

1. melt chocolate, stir in other ingredients, pour into tray and refrigerate. 
2. remove after 2 hours and cut into bite-sized pieces

I've also tried the recipe successfully with dark chocolate chips and Baileys, with Kahlua and chocolate coated coffee beans, and with milk chocolate (instead of white) and gingerbread chunks. Keeps for at least 2-3 weeks in the fridge, and also fairly successfully on the shelf provided it's not too hot.

La Petite Maison - Little house lost

It's just won the What's On 2011 "Best Restaurant", "One restaurant has ruled this city, providing one of the most pleasant atmospheres you could ever wish to dine in and some of the most consistent and delicious dishes in town" they say. It also took out Time Out Dubai's 2011 "Best Newcomer". It's been in the city for a year now, and I have only finally made it in.

It's an off-shoot, like many restaurants in Dubai. The parent is in Nice, and the first offspring in London and New York. The sign says there is also one in Moscow, but according to the world wide web, it has disappeared. A couple of blogs said it closed for renovations, but there is nothing new to report since then (please give me a link if you have one). If you have read previous reviews here on the Hedonista, you will see I'm not a fan of franchised restaurant ideas, but it's been so very well reviewed, I'm convinced this place just might turn me.

We want to eat outside - the weather in Dubai is divine right now. And although the spindly glittering towers of the DIFC and the rattle of helicopters to private helipads is a far cry from the bobbing cabin cruisers, sparkling Mediterranean and whitewashed antique buildings of the Côte d'Azur, the provincial rattan-look chairs make us remember our holidays of the last few years. We are advised - no alcohol outside. Let's dine inside then, shall we?

The interior is a little contrived - as new made to look old always is, but it is light and pretty, with whitewashed wood-cladded walls, primary splashes of art, and the lovely wall of booze behind the sweeping bar. The kitchen is open, stainless steel, and bustling. The olive oil bottles, a suitable shade of ahem, olive, shine mutely with a tealight cleverly placed behind them.

Each table has two plump tomatoes, complete with stalk, and an accompanying lemon. So as an added extra, you don't get an amuse bouche, but a self-made salad of excellent olive oil, and unremarkable fruit. Perhaps this would work where produce was fresh, seasonal and flavoursome, like Riviera tomatos are in summer. But it's not romantically rustic here. I probably shouldn't complain about complimentaries, but why bother if it doesn't provide a unique doorway into the room that is the restaurant experience. (like that lovely little seedling at table 9)

The menu is huge. There are about 25 entrees and 20 mains, with 5 of each boxed in the centre of the page. After we have mused this unexplained box for 5 minutes or so, our waiter comes to advise us that they are restaurant signature dishes, but only available when in season. The zucchini flowers are not (understandable) as is the endive (even though I saw them in spinneys this morning), the sea bass carpaccio is not (although interestingly the baked sea bass main is), and neither is anything with truffles in it (despite it being truffle season), knocking about 6 more items off the menu. This leaves us with a more practically sized menu, but it's a pain having to reassess after finding out both my choices are absent. It's also disappointing - the menus are paper stuck in a card sheath. Surely they could take one of these many idle waiters off the floor, and send her to the office to run off a couple of more accurate versions?  It's not rocket science, and it would save a hellova lot of confusion and frustration.

We start with a cured salmon and tuna carpaccio. The waiter has told us that the food is served as soon as it is cooked, therefore it's unlikely both entrees will arrive at the same time. Personally I don't mind this, as I am a pro at helping myself to other peoples' food. The tuna comes first, and I attack Hambone's plate. It's seared nicely and in 5mm thin bricks (so not strictly carpaccio), blood red on the inside, dressed with a zesty sauce and toasted hazelnuts. It's a nice combination and cooked well. The salmon has a smell to it - quite common when curing, but usually covered with the scent of dill or lemon. Here, it unfortunately rises above the delicate sweet pink peppercorns. The other factors however are ideal - oily flesh, soft, silky, a full and lingering finish. I get over the smell and gobble.

For mains I receive the salt cod croquettes - a French staple, and here also, very good. Crispy on the outside, soft and well seasoned on the inside, and partnered with a vibrant and moreish capsicum relish. My husband's roast baby chicken in lemon is likewise excellent, although presented exactly as he would - taken from the grill and slapped on a plate (garnish is for pussies). It's split down the backbone and every joint is juicy and cooked through. The marinade is simple, but perfect.

We split the dessert. Again, I test this French restaurant by ordering a national dish - tarte au citron. Like the chicken it arrives sans garnish. Are the chefs sending a message? Something akin to: "I taste so good that I dont need to be pretty!" It is the best I've had in Dubai, possibly one of the best ever. They have veered slightly away from tradition, and made it more like a lemon creme brûlée with a pastry base. The filling is custardy, room temperature and slightly gooey, with a wonderful permeating essence. The top is crusty burned sugar, which offsets the sweet, sour and creamy flavour beautifully.

Unfortunately the winelist has only one dessert wine that will partner this dessert, and it's 150AED per glass (hai carumba!). The waiter steers us towards a sickly drop from Australia that us Aussies know only grannies and teenage girls drink. Against my better judgement, my husband orders a Muscat Beaumes de Venice, which tastes like pure ethanol next to the tarte. He should really know by now that it's much better just to listen to me and shut up. Should have had another Champagne.

We leave 20 minutes after our cut-off time. La Petite Maison has two sittings, one too early, and one too late. We opted for early, knowing if we spent enough they would let us linger. But there were many empty tables - it appears the French Polish has rubbed off a little since the early glory days of opening, proving that even in Dubai, a restaurant must stay on it's toes to stay in business. I don't have any major issues with the place - it is a good restaurant. But I question myself - if you took this out of Dubai and plonked it back on the French Riviera, would it be anything more than a nice little bistro? The experience suggests no, but the prices suggest they have higher amour propre.

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La Petite Maison can be found in the DIFC
Gate Village building 8
(good map on their site here)

ph +971 4439 0505
email:  info@lpmdubai.ae
web:  www.lpmdubai.ae 

reservations recommended

Opening Hours:
Lunch: Everyday 12:00 – 3:30pm
Dinner: Everyday 7:00 – 11:30pm
Bar: Everyday 1:00 – 12:00am

Turkey Pie

I'm planning my leftovers already. But I really don't like the sound of Bridget Jones' "curry turkey buffet". Anyway, this recipe uses everything, including gravy, cold peas and stuffing. 

Ingredients:

• cooked turkey, chopped or flaked (about 3 cups)
• 1 leek, diced finely
• 2 stalks celery, diced finely
• dash of olive oil
  
• fresh thyme to taste (or about 1/2 tsp dried)
• leftover gravy, stuffing and green veggies and a good slug of cream... or... 200ml cream, 100ml chicken stock
• flour mixed with butter to thicken (optional)
  
• salt and pepper to taste
• 2-3 sheets shortcrust pastry
  

Instructions:

1. preheat oven to 180°C (360F), sweat leeks, thyme and celery until soft, then add any liquids and stuffing, and reduce if necessary (possibly up to about 10 minutes), and thicken with a flour and butter mix if there is still excess liquid.
   
2. Add turkey and vegetables, then season to taste. Turn off and allow to cool slightly
3. Line a greased or non-stick pie pan with one sheet of pastry, then blind bake for 5 minutes, then add filling, and cover, pinching at edges and pricking steam holes, then cook until golden.

Notes.
I got the inverted star pattern by using two upper sheets of pastry, the top one with cut-outs. This recipe could easily be made with a rotisserie chicken. It would also be possible to use other leftover vegetables, but try and stick with a theme so it doesn't look like leftover pie, e.g. use carrot and pumpkin, but flavour with cinnamon, and raisins.

Roast Pork with Italian Inspiration

I first tasted "porchetta" at a deli I worked in when I was 15. It was sold cold, and allthough I loved my mum's pork, it just surpassed everything she did (except of course for the crackling, because that's only a hot food thing). That was just the processed stuff. It came in a roll, vacuum packed, and we sliced it and sold it at $15.99 a kg.

Then this summer, I tasted the real thing in Cortona, Tuscany. It was sold off the bone - off the carcass to be truthful, and the scent of fennel, pepper and pork fat permiated the air like a pipe tone of the pied piper, leading me to its source in the belly of the Friday market (more about Cortona on this post here). This porchetta blew the other off the map.

This is my first attempt, and it's a cracker. Like everything I cook, it's easy, and relies on the quality of the ingredients. I chose a lovely neck of Free Range Otway Pork. Loins are fairly lean and look pretty, and sure, legs have a wonderful flavour, but the neck I find the most tender of all, and without a bone, it cooks quickly and evenly. Not only that, it's super cheap. The best thing was that the rind had been trimmed, removed and then tied back on, making perfect crackling a sinch.

Ingredients:

• boneless pork neck (also known as pork scotch fillet - I used an 900g (32oz) piece)
• pork rind (enough to roll around the pork)
• fennel seeds (to taste - I used 2 teaspoons)
• black peppercorns (to taste - I used 1/2 teaspoon)
• sprig rosemary
• olive oil
• salt, plus more salt, plus more salt

Instructions:

1. Put the oven on full to pre-heat, then dry-fry the fennel and peppercorns to release flavour, score pork rind, place spices and rosemary under the pork and tie into a roll.
2. rub salt into rind, then roll in olive oil, then roll in salt again. Feel free to salt again before popping on a rack in the oven for about 20 minutes.
3. reduce heat to 180°C (350°F), add to pan (with potatoes and other veggies to roast) and cook until juices run clear when pork is pierced to centre (80 minutes for mine).

Some tips on perfect crackling.
There are three components - heat, salt and fat. There are many ways to get there, but I use 20 minutes of very high heat, and then a medium heat to cook the meat through. The more salt you use, the more it dries out, and the better it tastes. If you have time, you may even want to salt the fat the previous day, and leave it in the fridge overnight. Third vital is fat. Forget that it is already a piece of fat, and slather it in oil or butter - this helps the heat get up and make it golden and crispy. 

You may find that your cut of pork does not come with a separate rind. If this is the case, you can either leave it on, and make sure you don't score down to the meat, or you can trim it off (image), and cook it separately. The advantage of cooking separately is that you can remove the greater quantity of fat below the crispy rind (but some love this part!), and then crisp it up further while the meat is resting after cooking.

Soft Chocolate Truffles

Yesterday I put up the recipe for my white chocolate truffles, and you may have realised that it is fairly flexible. This is a deviation, with whole hazelnuts, and without half a cup of dry ingredients stirred through, which makes the chocolate more like a fudge in texture.

Ingredients:

1. 250g milk chocolate
2. 60ml cream
3. dash liqueur/flavouring (I used Amaretto)
4. 1/4 cup whole hazelnuts
5. 1/2 cup chocolate strands for dusting

Instructions:

• melt chocolate and cream, then stir in liqueur and hazelnuts
• Chill the mix, then take out and put teaspoon-sized lumps on a tray with baking paper and refrigerate for another ½ hour (aiming for 1 hazelnut in the centre of each.
• Remove, roll into balls and coat with chocolate strands

This recipe also works very well without the nuts. Dark rum, Kahlua,  or Cointreau also make a great liqueur addition. If you don't like to add booze, try some vanilla, almond or peppermint flavouring. If you want to make them a bit more grown-up, use dark chocolate instead of milk (not more than about 60-70% or they will be hard), and coat with a rich cocoa powder instead of chocolate strands.Makes a lovely christmas present

White Chocolate Truffles

Truffles are the easiest sweets to make - the only cooking is melting chocolate, and they keep for a few weeks in the fridge. They're perfect for gifts, and you get to lick the bowl after rolling them out! This recipe is easily adaptable - I make different variants every year. This year I went tropical, with a mix of coconut, candied ginger and candied pineapple. Another family favourite is with flecks of finely grated lemon rind, coconut and a dash of Malibu liqueur.

Ingredients

• 250g White chocolate
• 60ml cream
• dash liqueur/flavouring (I used Limoncello)
• 1 cup finely textured ingredient (In my case, 1/4 cup mixed chopped candied ginger and pineapple, and 3/4 cup dessicated coconut)

Instructions

1. Melt chocolate and cream, then stir in other ingredients (only half cup of the textured ingredient).
2. Chill mix, then take out and put teaspoon-sized lumps on a tray with baking paper and refrigerate for another ½ hour.
3. Then remove, roll into balls and coat with remaining powder. 

Package them beautifully and give them to friends, and don't tell your husband there are leftovers in the fridge...

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Submitted for Very Good Recipes "White Christmas Challenge"

A Desert Christmas Feast

When I lived in Melbourne, I always associated a northern hemisphere Christmas with snow. While we were enjoying our Summer holidays and getting festive over local seafood, there was this far-away ideal of a Christmas Day that was not too hot to have the oven going all day, where it was clean and white outside, and warm and red inside. Where Christmas carols made sense, and houses looked like the iced gingerbread ones that I saw on the Gourmet Traveller cover.

It's not quite the reality.

We have had three Christmases in Dubai now, and the closest we got to that picture I had placed in my head was the year before last, when Hambone and five of his mates smoked cigars in the rain under a peaked sun umbrella while my white Venetian tablecloth, recently laquered in splodges of fuscia 4-year-old-girl-Christmas-present nailpolish, flapped in the howling gale like a grazed polar bear trying to escape the horror that was the Walton un-family Christmas. I think it might have got down to about 16 degrees celcius - no less.


In 2008, we had our first Orphans Christmas - we gathered 20 of our closest friends and all pitched in to make an amazing Christmas dinner at our place. It was like home, but without the fighting and degradation that comes with spending alcohol-fueled time with ones' family. The food was incredible, and the kids had mates to play with, so they left us alone to get stuck into the eggnog. We all loved it so much, that we decided to do it again the next year.

But nobody else offered to have it at their place, so I hosted again. In (the aforementioned) 2009 there were 33 of us. Even with everybody preparing a dish, let me tell you, that is too many people to have to your house on an emotional day. It was colder than the previous year, and as we were finishing our main courses, an angry pregnant raincloud made a beeline for our back-yard. Hambone was still swearing "I know weather and it's not going to rain!" when the lightning started up. Five minutes later, soaked in something other than Laurent Perrier, he was still saying "It's going to pass, I just know it!". Everybody else came inside and trashed my house.

The following day, I left for Egypt with my sister in law and Lion at 7am, creeping out before Hambone could come downstairs and see the maelstrom that was in place of our living room. It took him two days to clean up, and he swore at me several times down the phone before I swore never to do it (Christmas Lunch) again.

So in 2010, I waited for an invitation from one of the 33 guests from the previous year. We finally got one, but it was to join them for brunch. It seems my friends are much smarter than me, and realise that is easier, and possibly even cheaper to fork out 500AED per adult to drink champagne all day at the Westin and have somebody else clear the mess up. I was miffed that nobody else would take up the mantle of hostess, but actually had a super day. And now I have to admit, this is probably the way forward for us.

The other thing I have seen in Dubai that I never observed in Melbourne is Room-service Christmas. You can actually order the entire bird and trimmings from a hotel and have them deliver it to your door in Dubai. This truly is the land where you can pay someone to do anything you don't want to. It's actually pretty reasonable too - about 600AED for a turkey with gravy, vegetables and stuffing for 6-8 people. May I stress, chef-cooked, and no pots to clean up? Dubai, for a Muslim city, you really know how to cater for a Christian holiday.


But when you have your Christmas dinner cooked for you, it takes a little of the bang out of the lead-up. As a cook, I adore the planning of a feast – it’s just the delivery in the midst of the kids favourite day and the subsequent required domesticity while everyone parties on that I could do without. So, luckily, my friends at Fooderati Arabia had a plan. We all joined Sally from My Custard Pie at her place to decorate gingerbread, make some truffles and just hang out.

And so, in a mix of Christian, Muslim and Hindu folk, we joined over our other religion – food. It was inspiring – the home-made sweets that I used to make but in recent years had forgotten have resurfaced. I’ve been strolling the aisles of supermarkets and enjoying the winter produce and all those lusciously spiced European cakes and breads. In celebration of my rediscovery of Christmas food, I’ve also started posting a Christmassy recipe each day – so far there’s rocky road and mulled cranberries, but there’s more to come.

As for the big day, I’m off to Australia again to see my lovely Mum and Dad. And I’m cooking – but just for ten!
   

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Room Service Dubai supply Christmas lunch (plus more) to your door - visit their site here: www.rsd.ae - you must pre-order for Christmas Day

We went to the Westin Dubai for their Bubblicious Christmas Brunch, which is probably already all booked out. There are a multitude of other options - check out this page on Time Out Dubai for more info.

Mulled Cranberries

 I've never really understood the whole cranberry jelly thing. It tastes nothing like cranberries, and when it slides out of the tin, it has these rings on it that remind me of a block of dog food straight from the can. 

It's so easy to make your own cranberry sauce, and I make it each year to give as gifts. This is my most popular variety - inspired by one of my favourite winter drinks, mulled wine. It has such a lovely balance of sweet, spicy, bitter and sour - it's simply amazing with salty turkey with gravy or a well seasoned ham. 
The alcohol is burned off during cooking, but I make another version replacing the wine with half water/ half orange juice that also works beautifully.   

Ingredients:

• 340g cranberries (standard 12 oz packet size)
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 cup red wine
• rind of 1/2 an orange (as little pith as possible)
• 1 large cinnamon quill
• 5 cloves

Instructions

1. Throw all ingredients into a pot and bring to the boil.
2. Simmer, stirring occasionally for about 1 hour, or until nicely reduced (but not blackened and stuck to the bottom of the pan)
3. Pour into pretty sterilized jars (link here), get like Martha Stewart and make it pretty.

Provided the jars are full and sterilized properly, this sauce should keep on the shelf for at least a couple of months, but if you want to be safe, probably best to keep it in the fridge and use it within a couple of weeks.

Rocky Road

I make Christmas presents every year.

I've found that, personally, if I really want something, I just go and buy it. If I can't afford it, I learn to live without it, or I buy an inferior substitute. Nobody can choose a present better for me than I can for myself. Except, when it is a present that is the gift of their time, thought and effort. I really hope all my friends and family feel the same way, because I spend time, not money on my gifts to them.

Sarah Walton Hedonista Rocky Road is very very rare - you have to be one of my nearest and dearest, or have to have performed some amazing task (ie teaching my kids for a year) to get it. The recipe changes annually, depending on the best stuff I can find to put in it, but there is always a basic formula - chocolate with nuts, coconut, jellies (not jam) and marshmallows.

Ingredients:

• 500g chocolate (I like half milk, half dark)
• 50g butter
• 1 cup chopped marshmallows
• 1 cup red jellies (I used these because they have a very fruity flavour)
• 1/2 cup hazelnuts
• 1/2 cup dessicated coconut

Instructions:

1. Melt chocolate in microwave or bain marie, then stir in butter until smooth. 
2. Add all other ingredients except coconut, and combine well
3. Pour into a tray lined with baking paper, sprinkle coconut on top, and flatten with another sheet of baking paper on top, then refrigerate until hard

I cut into inch-sized blocks, but whatever floats your boat. You can also mess with all the ingredients in range and quantity, except for the chocolate and butter. It tastes great with rice bubbles, fresh raspberries (but has to be eaten that day), dried fruits, broken biscuits and turkish delight for example. Have fun!

Full Moon Drumming

That's my drum. I've been looking forward to this. My moment in the desert in the dark, beating something senseless for no good reason other than for the sake of rhythm. It's one of the only drums left - all those before the stage have been taken already, and I'm so squat that when I'm seated on the dusty cushion laid flat on the sand, I can't see a thing except my son's white teeth in the dark next to me. He's wearing one of those goofy grins - well done Mum, this has been a good idea.

The session begins, and I find that sight is not important. Our drum-master booms instructions heavier than the beats. He speaks in some African dialect - Swahili? I don't know. He translates - "CLAP YOUR HANDS!" he thunders. We obey. He dances and struts on the stage between flaming torches like an mythical king on cooky cactus. I stand quickly to snap his photo, but am drawn back down by both my son, and the desire to rejoin the pattern - I am standing out like a pulled stitch.

Within five minutes, he has us all whooping and beating like old-time jungle drummers. Somehow he has managed to arrange a muddle of expats into a percussive orchestra, and we sound good. Even my rhythm-deprived four-year-old has joined me on my lap, and manages to keep time. It's well past his bedtime, but he is wide awake. Who needs caffeine when there is music? After another five minutes I have had enough, and luckily, our master is also starting to wind down. My hands are stinging - as when slapping a child, I feel like they have come off with the worse side of the deal. The drum is uninjured, but they are red-raw, pinched where I wear rings, and as hot as the campfire behind us.

We retire to the outskirts, grabbing a quick shwarama before 200 others leave the drum pit, and finding the only table left without a smattering of temporary food receptacles and personal articles. It's low and surrounded by majlis-style pillows, and so I thankfully plunge my free hand into the cool sand and wait for Hambone to return with a beverage for the other one.

The kids disappear. We are with friends, and they too have lost their offspring. They keep on running to the top of a sand dune, knowing that after three struggles up the blasted things, their parents will leave them alone up there. They toboggan or sandboard down occasionally, but just for a mouthful of biryani or fanta, then disappear again. One comes back with a balloon doggie from somewhere, and another painted like a zombie. They've found their novelty corner as we have found ours -which is the bar - serving reasonably priced cheap swill that tastes amazingly good in the desert in the moonlight.

The fire-breather stomps onto the carpet stage between drumming sessions, both scaring and delighting the children. And even though I've seen this many times before, I enjoy it again. As I watch the spirits and sparks fly, I also quietly hope their carpets are not synthetic.

We ride camels, then eat, then drum, then drink, then eat, then sip tea, then drum, then eat again. Finally we smoke, drawing in the apple shisha, cleansing our palates.

Santa arrives, Arab style on a camel. He is immediately pounded by an eddy of sandy children, who drag thin plastic toys out of his sack before he can tell if they need the pink or the blue wrapping. It reminds me of the melee of Crapmas last year, but here I forgive it - Santa is secondary at Full Moon Drumming. We expect little of him, as our hearts, lungs and bellies are already full.

We leave with one child asleep in my arms. The pain of stumbling up the sandhill to the outside of our comforting crater is diminished by the rare sight of seeing him smile while he sleeps. The other can't stop talking. We climb into one of a fleet of 4WDs and the driver gives us a mini dune-bash on our way to the carpark, funning it up a bit for the kids, who are now all awake.

"Good night, Lion?" I ask my eldest as we climb back into our own car and start the late journey home.
"Best ever..." Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

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Dubai Drums run Full Moon drumming only once a month at their Desert camp in Al Awir (map here), about 40 minutes from most parts of Dubai. They will drive you from a meeting point on the edge of the desert if you don't want to take your own car over the sand. We wanted to have a drink, so booked a driver - It would be possible to get a taxi to take you out there, but you might struggle finding one to take you home again.

Tickets are at Time Out Tickets, and are 200 AED for adults and 100 for kids. Under 5s are free. Everything except the alcohol is included, but that too is very reasonable, at 20AED for a beer or wine.

There is also a New Years Eve event in RAK, which sounds fairly awesome.

If you can't wait that long, just get in contact with them on their website, or phone +971 50 659 2874, and either join in a community event, or host your own.

Alternatively you could do a Desert safari for a similar experience for about the same price, but with a little more dune bashing and a little less soul.

Below is a video from their site, just in case my words don't give you enough of a picture. Although, I must say, we must have left before the raunchy dancing started.

Salted caramel banana bread

I have a friend who likes to salt slices of green apple. Some might find this unusual, but I completely understand it. Until you have tried salted caramel in Provincial France (yes, you have to be there, not just have it shipped out), you might never understand how salt can affect the taste of sweet things in a very good way.


As my wine study showed me (Yes, I spent 4 years drinking at university), sometimes contrasting flavours is the best way to bring out the best. Think foie gras (salty, creamy goose liver pate) and Sauternes (sweet and marmaladey dessert wine), or maybe a ripe Australian Shiraz with a wedge of gorgonzola. Each element tastes good on its own, but put them together, and 1+1 suddenly makes 3.

Ingredients:

• 2 cups self-raising flour
• 2 eggs
• 150g caramel (or maple) syrup
• 100g salted butter (melted)
• 1 tsp coarse salt (fleur de sel or pink salt best)
• 1 tbsp demerara sugar crystals (big chunky ones)
• 3 bananas
• 1/4 cup milk

Instructions:

1. In a blender, combine syrup, milk, melted butter, bananas and 1/2 of each of the salt and sugar.
2. In a separate bowl, beat eggs, then alternating, add wet mix and sifted flour, stirring vigourously.
3. pour into a greased loaf tin, scatter with remaining sugar and salt, and bake in a preheated oven at 180︒C for 40 minutes or until golden and firm.

This cake will freeze well. It can also be sliced and pan-fried in butter and served with sliced banana and maple syrup for breakfast. Seriously, seriously good breakfast.