My 10 top meals out for 2012

Well, considering the world was supposed to end with the year, I dined my little heart out in twenty twelve. I'm a suspicious person, and although I didn't believe that a race that could not predict their own decline could accurately pinpoint the apocalypse centuries and centuries in the future, I have had other reasons to live this year like it is my last (no - I'm not dying, you'll have plenty of inanity coming on The Hedonista in 2013).

It's been a super year of food. I've discovered cuisines this year that I thought I already knew. It's funny, isn't it, that the more you learn about something, the more you realise you don't know. This year's aspirations of writing a book about eating in Provence (ahh, yes... still in the pipeline, which unfortunately seems to be plugged with some ferality.) have lead me in an almost explosive quest for knowledge on all things food. I select my restaurants with careful consideration, I order with expectation, I taste with discernment, I evaluate and above all, I learn. And the list below doesn't surprise me, although some might surprise you. There's no Michelin Stars. None sent me bankrupt (although one gets close if you turn up in a state of near starvation). But all have something in common - I took something away from them. The kind of thing you can't fit in a doggie bag (and no, I have not been nicking furniture)



Toro Toro - Marina, Dubai, UAE

I subconsciously avoided Toro Toro from the start. Firstly, I didn’t want my favourite Argentinian steakhouse (below) knocked off its pedestal. Secondly, it’s one of those restaurant-nightclub hybrids that involve dressing in sparkles and stilettos and dining with ear plugs. But I managed to make a friend of the Chilean trade commission persuasion who fangled me an invite to their Chilean Food shindig. And here, we find it in one of my best eats of the year. Sure, the music is too loud and I’m too old, but the food is special. Very special. The kitchen did put on an array of national treasures brought in by the Chilean Consulate for the evening, but return visits have shown me it’s always as good, and not just in big plates - in nibbles and tipples they shine in Dubai. Not only that, the venue shines with the food. Linear, geometric, but not sharp. Black wood, white linen, fiery lighting behind thin layers of marble and resin. Hard and soft, curved and cornered. And the music rocks.

What I loved: The delicate balance of flavours achieved in bite-sized food, the ambience
What I learned: How to make a Pisco Sour fluffier than a cappucino, and that my new mate Francine is a great dancer.


Amal - Bentota (just south of, on the train line), Sri Lanka

This is one of the only places I will happily wait 90 minutes for my food. I’ll also forgive them for serving me heat-affected rose (they exchanged it anyway), because I should have been sticking to Lion Lager. This place manages to fill a niche that nearly every other beachside restaurant in Sri Lanka tries to. And this shows in the crowds that fill it, service after service. It finds a blend between being something that comes across as having just enough local culture while providing simple yet super food with a great location just a stroll from the sand. You can wait for the famous Hikkaduwa train to thunder through below you while selecting today’s catch – king prawns the size of small lobsters, and wriggling lobsters the size of well, big lobsters, red snapper or para fish still glistening with natural saline. They arrive at the table grilled in spices, devilled, fried or curried with garlic and coconut roti and fragrant flavoured rice. Just remember to order quickly, tip before you eat, and maybe ask for some pappadams to fend off starvation while you wait.

What I loved: The black and white decor against the tropical outlook, the simplicity and the freshness.
What I learned: That slow service is not always unacceptable, and that entertainment can be found in a view, a glass of rose and the happy faces of tourists.


Chin Chin - Melbourne (CBD), Australia

This little alley restaurant is famous in Melbourne, so much so, that there are nightclub style queues chocking the pavement every lunch and dinner. They only take large bookings, so you have to get in early and be prepared to be rushed through your meal so you can share the love with those still waiting in the line for tables. This is one of the only cocktail lists I will not pass over for the wine list - the drinks have as much care taken in their recipes as the food. They use herbs and spices in the drinks to give them a Thai flavour, but Melbourne style. Their menu has a section on it that says "feed me", where you just tell the waiter how much you want to spend, and they give you the best they can on the day. This has become common, particularly in Japanese restaurants and some other asian cuisines where sharing is commonplace, but there's not many places I'd trust this. In Chin Chin, it works, because everything tastes good.


What I loved: zingy food, sassy staff, jumping atmosphere.
What I learned: That Melbourne gets what a multicultural society can do for a city's personal style. They can take parts of the asian community, and put them in a restaurant that is quintessentially "Melbourne" yet, on their own, each feature of the venue, the menu and the staff are almost "un-Australian".


https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoHG8E1spRdaO9JL7O2LcFL8FE7UQa1448VK_-K_QwaSXrIYBejyulzYX3G8dgeK6WMdkc_Put6YY8X6qO8t5rLiF-a9cai8ynOOZbO85yKv9PKKI12DSwsnk7U5YGzGRDTGk6ve5TpbY/s1600/la-petanque+petanques.jpgLa Petanque - Main Ridge, just outside Melbourne, Australia

This was the last meal I had out with my Mother, and it's such a lovely place to connect to that memory. It's a restaurant I had been driving past for a few years. Sandwiched between wineries, strawberry farms, artisan dairies and boutique beer producers, this restaurant almost has no reason to be there. They have no production, it's not an eatery attached to a farm like everything else in the area. It's simply a restaurant, a restaurant that looks like a house. Not only that, it's a French restaurant, a very french restaurant, in country Australia. It's so completely out of place. But then you walk in the door, and you're greeted with french accents and rustic wood, perfect table linen, views through floor to ceiling glass over pines and a petanque court, and you feel like you are in country France. Albeit country France with forest gums over the hill. The food is amazing, the people adorable. Love it.

What I loved: watching my Mum attack the pork belly like a kid in a candy shop, playing petanque with a glass of red hill sparkling after lunch.
What I learned: Anyone can find a home anywhere - it's a measure of both giving and receiving to the terroir. I also now know how to make a savoury hazlenut crumble.


Chateau d' Estoublon - Provence (Near St Remy), France

On the plains between the rocky folds of Baux de Provence, this vineyard, olive grove and Chateau resides peacefully and modestly, off the main road, surrupticiously signposted. When I cast my mind back here, I see slender cypress, white gravel, burgundy wooden doors in bleached centuries-old stone and lavender moving as if alive with bees. I smell ripe summer tomatoes, pistou and roses, hear childrens’ wooden swords clacking under the trees as they play at knights and damsels, and taste the region on my plate and in my glass in all its splendour. I remember how relaxed I was here, so much so it nearly brought me to tears.

What I loved: The complete package - like a lunch in your own back yard, if you were a millionaire. Simple yet tasty food, kids running on the lawns.
What I learned: Pistou makes everything taste like summer when it's made right. And that the French are finally realising that there's more to a winery than just making wine.


La Bastide de Gordes - Provence, France

Another one of those happy/crying moments in Summer in the south of France. This place sits on the edge of a cliff shaped like a U. The valley tumbles down below, and lays itself out like a patchwork throw over a lumpy bed. Juicy fat bumblebees hover harmelssley above in the mulberry trees, cigales provide dinner music from their hiding places. The food was very, very good, but this restaurant is not just about the food. It's the village itself, which is one of those places that cannot be missed, and this just happens to be one of the best restaurants in the village. I'm not sure if it would have been the same had the sun not been shining - maybe winter overly chills the atmosphere that in the heat surrounds your heart like a cool breeze in summer. I must go back and find out...

What I loved: The terrace, light and shade,
What I learned: (Again, but reinforced) Cheap wine tastes better in France. Gazpachio is something I must cook more often, and I need to get a new outdoor setting for our garden.


Asado - Downtown, Dubai UAE

I don't eat meat as much as I used to. Living in Dubai has changed me from this blood-loving Australian beef-eater. It's both the weather, which is more suited to salads and seafood, and the quality (which can be excellent, but is more commonly variable) available at the supermarkets here that have changed my habits. But Asado brought all this back to me. It's the steakhouse to end all steakhouses. It's not going to blow you away, but it serves great meat, and pays homage to our carniverous bodies in a way that is delightfully politically incorrect. This restaurant reminds me that beneath all our ethics and pretensions, we are essentially beasts at the top of the food chain, and sometimes, no matter how naughty that seems, it's just a little bit OK to celebrate it. Most nights there is some form of latin entertainment, either a small band or tango.

What I loved: The ambience - totally red-blooded
What I learned: quite a bit about Argentine wine, and how those small grills you can buy in Carrefour look smokin' in the middle of a dining table.


Zuma - DIFC, Dubai UAE

This was not my first experience at Zuma, but my return that was encouraged (and paid for) by their PR manager, who believed I had not seen the restaurant at it's best when I reviewed. In a part of the world where bloggers are haraassed, sued, jailed and more for having an opinion that goes against the desires of the subject, I was a little taken aback when I was approached in response to my post which questions the position of Zuma in the world's top 100 restaurants. The return visit involved more tasting, dishes which I would not have selected if given a choice, but which tasted far better than they read. A tour of the kitchen, a chat with some of the staff, and an assurance that they take criticism to heart but not to court has assured me that this restaurant is quite possibly the best in Dubai - not for what it is (which is pretty damn good anyway), but for what they will be over coming years if they retain this attitude which is so rare in this city, and the many other cities around it.

What I loved: buttery black cod, succulent beef. It's all about the food. Oh, and I love their PR
What I learned: That although I still believe Zuma Dubai is not one of the top 100 restaurants in the world, they deserve to be in the top 5 (if not foremost) in Dubai, and the voting, however skewed the worldwide results, shows us that other voters in the region can come together in opinion over Zuma's prominence at least in the region.


Petra Kitchen - Petra Township, Jordan

Is this classed as dining out, or dining in? I mean, I cooked a bit of the food myself. We ate at the kitchen table with the other chefs. But it wasn't at home, so yes, I think we'll call this dining out. This was in a shopfront just up the hill from the gate to historic Petra. A shiny, fluorescent-lit kitchen in a non-descript building next to souvenir shops selling "I love Petra" t-shirts and brass camels with ashtrays in their humps. But inside was history as old as what I'd seen that morning around the Treasury. Recipes. I'd eaten nearly all of these dishes before, sometimes better examples of the same either out or at someone's home. But it's the action of putting together a meal with such a large group of interlopers that ends up as perfect as a Jordanian Ommy might prepare for her own table (or mat, as many will eat on the floor). Dishes that have been passed down through generations, and travelled throughout the Arab world and been translated and transmuted through distance and time. It's a beautiful thing.

What I loved: the entertainment, cheeky chefs and enthusiastic dining partners
What I learned: Recipes, of course, how easy it is to make smoky eggplant. And that Pinot Noir can actually be blended with Cabernet and taste reasonable.


Photo by Johanna_dxb on trip advisor
Frying Pan Tours, Deira - Dubai, UAE

I've known Arva for a while now, and this woman scares me with her food knowledge. Funny thing is, she doesn't cook. And look at her, and you'd think she doesn't eat either. But she knows just about everything there is to know about the ethnic food of Dubai and many other parts of the region I think there is to know, from my perspective anyway. I did a trial tour with her and about 5 others one night, where she took us walking (through the rain at some points) around Deira, stopping at middle eastern eateries for an educational eating tour. Now I know a fair bit about Middle Eastern cuisine for an Aussie, but it turns out, that is only about half of the basics. I really want to hop on the tour she does of subcontinent nibbles around Meena Bazaar.

What I loved: al Tawasol Yemeni restaurant, Manakeesh at Breakfast to Breakfast
What I learned: err... everything?



Food Obsessed.... Moi?

Food bloggers come in all shapes and sizes (and some would say, vast, vast, quantities). But underneath them all is an obsession with food, and I've just discovered it's unnatural.

Recently I ran a trivia night at my place with nine of my nearest and dearest. It came about because it's something we do as a group, just to ensure we get together and knock back a couple of bottles of fizz once a month. For my turn, I'd asked if I could shake it up a bit, and so instead of asking a whole heap of questions about 1980s one-hit-wonders and the capitals of obscure countries, I decided to make mine food and wine themed. So I compiled a list of questions, breaking them into eight rounds of about ten questions each. Let's see how they fared.

Round 1 - picture round. What pasta is that?
Highest score - 6/10. Average: 4/10
Pasta that most of my friends have not heard of: agnolotti, farfalle, pappardelle, orzo, conchiglie.
I had a thin and thick flat pasta in there, and despite accepting pappardelle, fettuccine, linguini or tagliatelle, if they were at least listed according to brevity, none got it right. They fought over question 8, and I finally conceded that Agnolotti could also be called ravioli (it really shouldn't).

Round 2 - Fruit and veggies.
Highest score - 4/10. Average 2.5/10
I have discovered that my friends do not have any idea about potato varieties, what fruit is found in grenadine, what the difference between a herb and a tree is, how to poison someone with a fresh apple, or despite a multiple choice with 3 inane answers, only one of which was a fruit or vegetable, they could not figure out that jack-o-lanterns used to be made out of turnips. They all got The Wiggles lyrics right to "hot potato" however. And the best response? Q 9: What's in vichyssoise? ... A: fishes arse


Round 3 - Dining out.
Highest score - 5/10. Average 4/10
Do they know what napery is? No. What about the glasses different wines should be served in? No, not them either. What about smelly cheeses? No, can't tell the difference between a taleggio and a parmigiano. However, they could remember the jingle of a fast food chain's ad from all the way back in 1974, and tell me exactly what you could find in a Big Mac. Big woop.

Round 4 - Wine.
Highest score - 5/10. Average 2.5/10
Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Now I thought these were pretty easy. What is Spanish sparkling called? Apparently it's "el bubblio". The only wine growing region of NZ they could name was Marlborough, and there was a Waipara Sauvignon Blanc on the table. My husband did however know what TCA was, even if he called it tri-chloro-asinole. Everybody else just put in rude words starting with T, C and A. They didn't know how many Crus or growths you would find in the Medoc (Bordeaux), and couldn't even tell me that doux and demi sec were sweeter than brut when it comes to Champagne.

Round 5 - Guess this wine
Highest score - 3/3. Average - 1.5/3
The only disappointment here was my husband, who poured his wine in a shot glass, and then proudly declared it was Sancerre. I did proffer a more suitable receptacle, which he declined, stating loudly and tapping the side of his nose in Sherlock Holmes fashion "I've had this wine before, I know exactly what it is." He didn't change his answer. It was cheap buttery unwooded chardonnay from South Eastern Australia, not incredibly expensive and pungent Sauvignon Blanc from France.

Round 6 - Spirits and liqueurs
Highest score - 6/10. Average 4/10
What a great improvement here. Yes, they know what 'legs' are in a brandy glass. They could tell me how to make a Piña Colada. Only one knew that Frangelico was made with hazelnuts, but nobody had any idea what made the mind trip in Absinthe. When it came to stills, barrels and single malts, everybody utterly fell off the wagon.

Round 7 - Match the drinker to the drink
Highest score - 2/8. Average 1/8
This should have been a process of elimination. Pablo Picasso would definitely need the aid of the green fairy (absinthe) to come up with cubism (most got this). Marilyn Monroe was supposed to have once bathed in 350 bottles of Dom Perignon, and derr, Dean Martin loved Martinis. But no - they thought the Queen of England needed to drink Champagne, leaving Marilyn with the Cosmo, even though it hadn't been invented yet. They gave Madonna a Martini and Dean the Dubonnet, and then even bungled Lara Bingle's H2COCO, despite the fact that most of us are Aussies and she's been pimping it for ages now.

Round 8 - What is this?
Highest score - 3/10. Average - 1.5/10
The only constant was Sopressa, which was correctly confirmed to be a salami. But it seems Chaorce is a vegetable (no -that's Choko), Capon is a chocolate, Ceviche "mmmm... tastes like chicken!", Passito is meat, jaggery is a chilli, and nobody even put an answer for khubz, despite the fact that we all eat them nearly every day. Two out of three knew daikon was a radish, but nobody knew that Cachaca is the spirit used in one of the world's most popular cocktails, the Caipirinha, assuming in fact it is the dance that you perform after you have six of them. Kimchi? Oh, that's Indonesion for "cat on a satay stick" apparently.

By the end of this, my heart had broken, and was dribbling all over the floor like an over-ripe chunk of Chaorce. I thought this would be fun. You know, eating food, drinking wine, talking about food and wine, testing each other, the kind of things I love doing with my food blogger friends. But no, it wasn't at all. My cuisinically challenged friends laughed in mock shame through the fruit and veggie round, and only got very excited when they got to say "two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun", but by the time we got to the spirits, they were groaning, telling me they were too hard. I was embarrassed, wanted to crawl under the table and drink the rest of the Bollinger and gorge on some incredible Salted Caramels someone had brought from Crate and Barrel. Maybe just sob quietly to myself. But we persisted, and by the end, we paid in wine because everyone was drowning their losses in our cellar.

Even my husband, who shares most of my food journeys didn't fare well. At one point, my best Dubai friend looked at me and asked: "Do you know the answers to all these questions, Sarah?", and I do. I only had to google a couple of the celebrity favourite drinks and double check on some barrel sizes for whiskey storage. Oh, and I didn't know what a Capon was until about two weeks ago.

Sometimes its hard to see how people don't get your obsession, and also how they can go through life eating and drinking without knowing the name of things, how they are made, and where they come from. But I guess it's just my personal thing. Luckily I have a big bunch of food-loving friends to share it with in Fooderati Arabia, and now I treasure them more than ever.

The next host of trivia has threatened to make the theme "Middle Eastern Oil Extraction" for next time. Now won't that be exciting...

Domaine Cordier Pouilly Fuisse 2010

For those that don't know the region, Pouilly Fuisse is a Chardonnay from Burgundy, but it's just south of the golden strip (Cote d'Or), and in the cheaper, warmer region of Mâconnais. It is however the shining star of the region, and many would say that you'd be better off buying a good brand Pouilly Fuisse than a super brand of Bourgogne Blanc, and I'd tend to agree. It does of course come down to style, and being a small vineyard area it has a distinct character and changes dramatically over vintages. So, the rule goes - buy Pouilly Fuisse in the good vintages, and Bourgogne blanc in the poor (because it can be blended over a larger area, and it's even possible that some grapes usually used for better wines will be declassified and added into the blend).

So - this wine. 2010 was a super vintage - low yeilding, good concentration, great acid, and yet still showing some lovely ripe flavours. It's a keeper. This wine is toasty and creamy on the nose with toasted almonds. Fruit is concentrated but not sweet - pineapple/citrus and slightly grapey (yes, I know, wine is made from grapes, but this
tastes a little like a firm and slightly under ripe sultana - quite a rare flavour in Chardonnay). Super dry, with some great minerality strethching through a constant finish. Tastes like a Cote d'Or wine. Super value.

Drink now or over 4 years
120 AED + tax (I purchased duty free)
17/20

PS - Do NOT confuse Pouilly Fuisse with Pouilly Fume. Both are great, but the latter is an incredibly pungent Sauvignon Blanc from next-door to Sancerre in the Loire.

Omani Lobster with za’atar and garlic

Omani Lobster is presently a little overfished, but just once in a while, it’s a super way to turn things up for a celebration. This is a claw-less variety, and so is easy to prepare and eat. Simply use the tails, and if you want to keep waste to a minimum, use the legs to make a stock and freeze it for later.

Lobster tails are easy to cook – simply grill until the flesh is translucent – then take them off the heat and eat immediately - it will continue to cook a little in that shell until it's cracked open like a Christmas present. Za’atar is a local narrow and long-leaved thyme relative known elsewhere in the world as winter savoury.

Ingredients
  • 2 Lobster tails, cleaned
  • fresh za’atar – about 12 stems
  • 1 tsp black mustard seeds
  • 2 cloves crushed garlic
  • 1 tbsp butter
  • 1 tbsp olive oil
  • salt, pepper and lemon to taste
Instructions:
  1. Stuff the lobster tail with a couple of sprigs of za’atar, 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 5 minutes, then turn down a little and cover. After another 3 minutes. Turn, cooking for about 4 minutes on each top side (it will curl so it won't lie flush on its back), covered. If desired, you might want to separate the tail with a sharp knife at this point and grill the two halves open.
  3. While the lobster is cooking, gently fry the garlic in a little olive oil and butter, and try not to brown it. Season well and baste lobster with this during cooking, then drizzle the remainder over lobster to serve. 



Tips on preparing lobster
  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.
  4. Cut down the back of the lobster shell, all the way to the tail, then spread a little to remove the last of the digestional tract.
  5. Sometimes the frayed ends of meat have stains on them from the innards - cut off the worst bits, but don't get too fussy and trim away all the meat. There may also be some black membranes attached to the shell – trim these off too with some kitchen scissors. 




­­

Roasted Vegetable Salad

This is such a vibrant salad. Considering it is so hot here, even over Christmas, not everyone wants a bowl of hot roasted vegetables. It’s easy to prepare before-hand and features plenty of local and seasonal ingredients. It’s wonderful with turkey, but also makes a great accompaniment to grilled seafood.

Ingredients:
  • 500g pumpkin, peeled and cubed
  • 1 bunch of radishes
  • 5 small beetroots, quartered
  • 250g roca (arugula)
  • 1 tbsp warm water
  • 1 big pinch of saffron
  • 1 tsp honey
  • coarse salt to taste
  • ¼ cup flaked almonds
  • 2 tbsp labneh
  • 1 tbsp olive oil
  • squeeze of lemon
  • 1 tsp sumac
  • 1 tsp brown sugar
  • herbs for garnish (za’atar or coriander)
Instructions:
  1. Preheat oven to 190 C
  2. Add saffron and honey to warm water and stir to dissolve honey.
  3. Place pumpkin, radishes and beets in an oiled roasting pan and pour over honey mix then sprinkle generously with salt. Roast until cooked (about 30-45 minutes depending on the size of the pieces). Set aside to cool
  4. Dry-fry almonds until nicely toasted (a couple of minutes, flipping frequently)
  5. Combine labneh, olive oil, sugar, lemon and sumac to form a dressing, adding water if necessary to thin, and salt and pepper to taste.
  6. Once vegetables are cool, arrange roca on the plate, then top with roasted veggies, then almonds, then splatter dressing in a zig-zag pattern. Finally top with herbs, and some more salt and pepper to taste. 




Bah Humbug


I hate this time of year.

I'm perpetually hung over. At the snippets of time when I'm not, I'm drinking someone's hideous party wine and eating god-awful canapes. My diet consists entirely of smoked salmon blinis, cold garlic prawns, hummus and mince pies. Ugh. Who on earth invented mince pies? And does anyone at all actually like to eat them? For some reason, it's also the time of year when people seem to think it's OK to have Champagne for breakfast. I'd be all for that if I wasn't, as previously mentioned, perpetually hung over.

I get up, I harangue the kids into clothes and breakfast into kids. Because despite all the partying, life goes on. I drive them to school. I get home. I pay off my credit card again. I drink coffee and prop my eyes open with toothpics. Then I drink more coffee. I'm at an event for lunch, I decorate a school hall, I attend a class play date in the park. The kids want to put up the Christmas tree. They need to go to Dragonmart for all manner of strobing environmental destroyers to drape around the garden. I arrive home all aflurry, and let them eat junk food again, because I need to go out for dinner. I haven't been in my kitchen for longer than it takes to burn a piece of toast in three weeks. I'm out weekdays, weeknights, breakfasts, brunches and suppers. I fall into bed at 2 am to wake up at 6 and do it all again the next day.


When I get a break in the socializing, I spend the time apologizing to all those I've had to stand up or pass over. I have a night off. I fall asleep in front of a 6-week old episode of Homeland, and wake up with a mouth full of dog hair, a crick in my neck and my ear in a puddle of drool on the sofa - dog's or mine, I have no idea. He's become clingy because I never see him, and started to give off this weird musky scent. I think he's scared he's going to lose me and is giving off mating pheromones in some vain effort to woo me back.

And then, to top it all off, it will climax with a home cooked dinner that is expected to rival Babette's feast. And being a blogger who tends to talk a fair bit about food, the responsibility always gets passed to me. They say they are too scared to cook for me. Bah! Scared I'm going to review them badly or spank them, I have no idea. The truth behind it is I would happily just eat a bacon sarnie on the 25th so long as someone else cooks it.

If it's in Dubai, then I cook for 25 orphan expats. If I go to Melbourne, I cook for all the family, who manage to all finally get themselves in the same room together because nobody wants to miss out on seeing the Waltons. Even the ones I haven't seen in years. I wonder why they didn't seem to value my presence so much when I lived around the corner from them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, true - and I'd probably appreciate it if I wasn't so bloody tired. Either place, I fall in a heap at the end of the day, and barely rise until the following year. New Years eve has been a total write-off for as long as I've had progeny. I'm still recovering from the noel, and in such a bad mood, that if I try and write any resolutions, they're probably going to look a little more like a hit-list, interposed with unattainable quests like giving up sugar and alcohol.

I've escaped it once. A blisfull day at Brunch, where someone else cleaned the lobster, set the table, entertained the kids, carved the turkey, supervised the drunks and cleaned up all the mess. This year I was silly enough not to book it far enough in advance, so I'm escaping to Sri Lanka, where the only turkeys you'll find drive tuk-tuks, and I can get drunk on the sound of the surf. If Santa gives me a suntan, that will be the best present ever. I wonder how I'll cope in a world without Christmas? I'm hoping the old adage will work in its favour, and after a season without the silliness, I'll come back home craving it. 

-----------------------------------

But truly, I jest. I do love a little pomp. I've just had a little spread in Ahlan Gourmet with some of my recipes - a twist on the traditional, just bringing in some nuances of the middle east. They'll hate me for it, but you'll find the recipes linked here (free) on the blog. They include a series of Dubai-infused traditional dishes like gingerbread lamp with stained glass, a freekeh-stuffed turkey, a vibrant pumpkin salad and my much tastier version of mince pies, using the traditional Emirati sweet treat, batheeth. There's also a stack of sweet things like truffles and fudge from last year.

------------------------------------

But, if you'd like someone else to handle the brunt (as you can see, I've already made a Christmas Dinner for Ahlan, so I'm definitely not making another one, so we're in the same boat), then you can order in a full Christmas dinner. It's amazing, and I have no idea why you can't get this done in the rest of the world. I had the lucky opportunity to have a gander at Galeries Lafayette's offering a week or so ago, and trust me, they do a super bird. Really juicy, and the dark meat is just as good (if not better) than the breast. They also do a beef wellington with foie gras that will stop you from ever attempting to cook it yourself again. Turkey serving 8-10 people is 595AED, Lobster Thermidor is 300AED (800g). They also do sweets and a range of canapes and more. The quality is excellent, and they deliver to your door.



Or, you could try any of the following, who offer something similar. The tip? Order the tricky stuff, and cook the veggies yourself. It's impossible to get the brussel sprouts both tender and green by the time they are cooked, plopped on a truck and brought to your door. Ditto for crispy roasted potatoes.

Bab Al Shams - small turkey from 495AED, full shebang 895AED
Rotana - turkey from 475AED from most venues. They have a dedicated Christmas page for all Gulf hotels, including Abu Dhabi, Fujeira, Beirut etc.
The Intercontinental is known to have one of the best quality dinners. Starts at 790 for a small turkey, but includes everything else.  You could go the whole hog goose and order from Reflets - roast goose stuffed with foie gras for 1500AED. Not bad considering the quality, but pick-up only. OR, for 8-20 people, they will actually cook at your home...
The Habtoor Grand's deal starts at about 600AED for a small turkey with three side orders included.
Jumeirah Beach Hotel starts at 795AED including the trimmings.
Emirates Golf Club charge only 95 per head - definitely good for a small group.
The Burj al Arab, believe it or not has turkeys from 680AED

Or, you could try a brunch. I've tried the Westin's Bubbalicious Christmas Brunch, which was super, but tends to get booked out by July. Try the following - there may still be space:

Meydan 545AED including plonk
Rotana have something going on at all venues - Murooj starts at 275AED for Brunch on Christmas day including house beverages, and Beach Rotana Abu Dhabi is 299, and for a cheapie, try Centro al Barsha for 149AED
Millenium Airport have a fairly good kids program and a reasonably priced lunch at 265 including house wines on the Terrace (had a great Flamenco night here recently, so could be a surprise winner)
Pullman hotel MOE - 390AED including bubbles at Sanabel. Had brunch here last weekend, and was surprisingly good. They have a chocolate room!
The Address Downtown have a good value seafood lunch at Zeta - 300AED including fizz.
For a deviation, try the Al Mansour Dhow (Radisson Blu), at 219AED, not including alcohol. Or Blades at al Badia have a picnic on the grass Christmas from 325AED including house wine.
Al Mahara at the Burj al Arab is giving underwater Christmases for 480AED not including wine
Pier Chic might be a quieter option at Madinat Jumeirah, with a 3-course set menu for 680AED including house wine and a bottle of bubbles.
Reflets Pierre Gagnaire at 790AED not including wine. Yes, an expensive one, but it's Christmas!

By the way, if you really want to give me a present for Christmas, I'll have a trip to Vietnam. Thanks xx


Gingerbread lamp with stained glass

I've been inspired by the region - hard not to be really. Last year, we made a gingerbread house, and it turned out quite nicely. But the snow on the roof and the Hansel and Gretel theme doesn't really gel in this part of the world. So, here is a Middle-Eastern-Appropriate gingerbread, both in flavour and construction. And you know what? Easier than it looks...


Ingredients
  • 250g butter, softened 
  • 2/3 cup soft brown sugar 
  • 1/2 cup date honey (dhibs)
    2 eggs, beaten 
  • 4 cups flour
  • 1/2 cup self raising flour
  • 2 tbsp ground ginger
  • 1 tbsp ground cinnamon
  • 1 tsp ground cloves
  • 2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
  • 15-20 clear boiled sweets (lollies), crushed with a mortar and pestle into coarse powder.

Instructions:

  1. Prepare your template (sample alongside)
  2. Preheat oven to 180 C. 
  3. Cream the butter, sugar and golden syrup with an electric beater. When light and fluffy, add the eggs gradually. 
  4. Switch to a wooden spoon, and add all dry ingredients, sifted together. As dough firms up, remove from bowl and knead a little on a floured surface. 
  5. Divide the mix into four, and wrap 3 pieces in plastic wrap and refrigerate.
  6. Place the remaining piece between two pieces of baking paper and roll to 1/2 cm thickness. Remove top piece and cut to size of template pattern. Remove excess and place with other pieces in the refrigerator. If desired, imprint with a design (fondant or cookie cutters work well - I have used an 8-petal flower ), and cut holes all the way through for the 'windows'.
  7. Bake for 10 minutes on a lined baking tray. While you are waiting, prepare your second piece.
  8. When 10 minutes is up, remove the piece and quickly yet carefully fill the holes with a thick layer of powdered lollies, taking care to get into all corners, but not onto the surface of the gingerbread as it quickly melts and sticks. Put back in the oven for 2 minutes, or until lollies have melted. Don't burn the gingerbread!
  9. Repeat until all pieces of the template are complete. Set aside to harden for at least one day. Cover with a cloth once cool. 

Make cookies with leftover dough like these =>
 
To assemble the lamp

Icing ingredients
  • 1 1/2 cups icing sugar 1/2 tsp coffee essence
  • 1/2 tsp cinnamon
  • 1-2 tbsp boiling water
(You could just buy a squeezie tube of writing icing if you prefer using that to the above.)
  1. Combine icing ingredients, starting with 1 tablespoon of water, and increasing little by little if it is too dense to stir. You are aiming for a very thick paste.
  2. Use a piping bag to attach sides to each other. Tie a string around the standing house/lamp until dry. Use a knife in a cup of boiling water to smooth over rough finishing and tidy up. 
  3. When dry, make another batch of icing, or add a little boiling water to reserved mix, and paint thin layers in areas you wish to adorn. Press in decorations before it dries.

Gingerbread will keep for up to two weeks, but will eventually become too stale to eat. Light a candle and place it inside to display, but don't leave it in all night - it may melt the sugar!


Roast Turkey with Freekeh

 Ok - this is not the easiest part of a Christmas Dinner, and so breaks my usual slap-dash rules of only 3-4 steps. Sorry about that - nothing to do. It is however not a hard recipe as far as roast turkeys go - just a simple roast, no brining or anything like that. Let's start you with the stuffing, which is really just chopping, browning and stirring, then I'll move through the trickier bits...

Freekeh Stuffing Ingredients:
  • 1 tbsp olive oil, plus extra, to drizzle
  • 1 onion, finely chopped
  • 150g minced veal
  • 205g (1¼ cups) freekeh (washed well and soaked for 1 hour)
  • 2 tsp shawarma spice
  • 1½ tsp salt
  • 750ml (3 cups) chicken stock or water
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 1 tbsp ghee
  • ½ cup pistachios
  • ¼ cup dried barberries
  • Salt and pepper to taste
Instructions
    1. Heat oil in a large frying pan over medium heat, add onion and cook for 3 minutes or until softened. Add veal and cook until browned
    2. Add freekeh and shawarma spice, then cook, stirring, until fragrant and freekeh is well coated (a minute or so).
    3. Add stock and salt, and bring to the boil, then reduce heat and simmer gently for 30 minutes or until freekeh is tender and the liquid has absorbed. Set aside to cool

    Now the turkey:

    Ingredients
    • One whole Turkey (3.5kg feeds 6-8)
    • 2 Onions
    • 1 lemon
    • 5-10 fresh za'atar or thyme sprigs
    • 1 cup white wine or sparkling date juice
    • 2 tsp coarse salt
    • 1 tsp shawarma spice

    Instructions:
    1. Heat oven to 190C/170C fan/gas 5. Wash and dry the turkey, removing any feathers. Lift up the skin that covers the neck opening, then push the stuffing up and under the skin, securing it tightly underneath with a skewer.
    2. Put a few pieces of onion and quartered lemon into the cavity, then tie the legs together with string.
    3. Put the remaining onions in a single layer in the tin, and cover with herb sprigs. Add the neck and all of the other giblets, except for the liver, to the tin, then sit the turkey on top.
    4. Coat the breast all over with butter. Pour the wine /juice into the tin, cover with foil, then roast according to timings (below). Keep checking the tin - if it looks a little dry, add a splash of water.
    5. Thirty minutes before the end of cooking, remove the foil. Brush the turkey again with butter, then scatter over and press in the salt and shawarma mix.
    6. Roast for the remaining cooking time, uncovered, until nicely coloured and cooked through. (Pierce thigh through its thickest part and the juices should run clear)
    7. Remove the turkey from the tin and leave to rest uncovered. (Don’t worry, it will stay hot)
    Now make the gravy:

    Ingredients
    • pan leftovers
    • 1 tbsp flour, seasoned with salt and pepper
    • a splash of white wine (optional - water to deglaze the pan will work fine)
    • water or stock for thinning
    • redcurrant jelly (optional - this is just to give the gravy a kick)
    Instructions
    1. Drain most of the fat and juices from the tin into a jug, keeping the onions but discarding the neck and giblets. Spoon the fat from the juices best you can, retaining the juices.
    2. Place the tin on the hob, then pour in a splash of wine, scraping up the crusty bits with a wooden spoon or small firm spatula. Reduce until the wine has almost all disappeared. 
    3. Sprinkle a little seasoned flour and cook for one minute, stirring frequently. Add the juices to the tin, stirring quickly to dissolve flour, then adding a little water or chicken stock if it thickens too much.
    4. Boil down for a couple of minutes, still stirring, then stir in a big spoon of redcurrant jelly, and season to taste. Strain into a jug, and add any resting juices. If you've stuffed up and it's full of lumps, never fear - just whack it in the blender - nobody will know. 


    Tommasi Bosco de Gal 2010

    This is a very inexpensive blend that packs a punch. The grape varieties are Trebbiano, Garganega, Malvasia and Cortese. Cortese is the famed Gavi variety, and Garganega is the same of Soave. Here, they come together with a couple of flavoursome (but often low acid and a little light on complexity) varieties to form a Bianco di Custoza. Custozas are usually fairly good value and this is not an exception. It's fruity, with apricot, orange blossom and cantaloupe up front and some lean lemon peel stretching through the finish. Good balance for the price and a lovely every-day drinking wine.

    Drink now
    45AED + Tax
    14/20

    Penfolds Bin 28 Kalimna Shiraz

    Australia is famous for its Barossa Shiraz, and it's famous for Penfolds. After all, our most well respected wine, Grange, is a Barossa Shiraz made by Penfolds. When most people go to the shelf and pick up a Shiraz (Syrah to the rest of the world) from this region, they are expecting something intense, full of blackberry jam and chocolate. But the Kalimna is not quite that wine. Sure, it's intense, but not like the bounty bar of sweet oak and syrupy fruit that many might expect. You pay more, you get more. So, in addition to your cheap chocolate bar and jar of preserve, expect to find some black olives, vanilla, briary blackberries and pepper. Maybe even a little iron-like minerality, just ever so slightly bloody. Not the best Kalimna, but as always, a pretty damn good one.

    Drink 1-7 years
    130AED
    14.5/20

    Riorret Pinot Noir (Merricks Grove) 2009

    Sorry Dubai drinkers - I'm swilling this in Oz, and you'll probably never see it. But it's just so good, I have to tell you anyway. And, I'm going to go on a bit. Maybe it will seal your faith in De Bortoli - the tall poppy label hiding behind this boutique little number. They've always been able to work a little magic with Pinot Noir - whether you're looking at what they do with Phi, the Yarra Valley Reserve range and even good old Gulf Station and Windy Peak (these are available in the UAE). I'd happily raise a flag to them and state they are the most consistent producers of Pinot Noir in Australia at a wide range of price points.

    Now. The wine. I'm still sipping it as I write, although I'm sure it will not last long. Considering I'm at my computer and enjoying it so much, I've done a little Google search. I'm not the only one who's loved this - not surprising. What IS surprising is that the reviews I have read do not seem to reflect the wine I've currently got in my glass. Well not entirely. But is this a reflection on the reviewer, the timing, the bottling or the grape?

    That's the amazing thing about Pinot. It's so deliciously volatile and as easy to upset as the princess and the pea. That's why it changes so much from year to year in the bottle. Why it tastes so varied in different glasses, and why it even tastes different in the same glass depending on how much is in it, and how long it's been in there. It's why the fruit character is so deeply affected by the quality of the cork, the level of brett and the strength of the phenols. It's why everyone who has any great love of wine almost always ends up adoring Pinot Noir over almost any other grape.

    Can you tell I'm enjoying this?

    What I can taste is strawberries, and amazingly, not a single reviewer has mentioned them. But they are so strong, they're not only jumping out of the glass, freshly picked from the field, but also appearing deep in the finish, jammy or preserved. The other reviewers found leaf, spice, rose petals, red currants and bacon. I don't really get this. Sure, there's a little smoke (bacon), and maybe some tobacco (leaf), and I see what one guy means by the rose petals - it's delicate, more so than many Pinot Noirs from this region. There is definitely a little spice - pimento-like with a touch of black pepper, I would say.

    But what it comes down to is always personal in the details, and what really matters is that the wine is balanced. It has great sweet fruit on the front, which is weighted by savoury flavour and acid through the palate. The tannins are impeccably fine (all reviewers agree on this). It's complex but not difficult - just how I like a pinot. And how everybody should.

    Buy it.

    Drink now and for 5 years
    Not available in UAE - purchased in Australia for $37
    18/20