North Otago Eating Odyssey

Chicken with tarragon and braised lettuce and peas - Riverstone Kitchen

I had had my eye on an eating trip to Oamaru and its friends for a long time. There has always been Fleurs Place (the lack of apostrophe, while frustrating, is authentic) of course, the legendary fish restaurant in Moeraki. Then Riverstone Kitchen won the 2010 Cuisine Restaurant of the Year. And then Fleur opened a new place in Oamaru, called the Loan and Merc Company. Well, that sealed it. Plans were made, appetites were whetted and fellow travelers were enticed.

By way of whetting the appetite, I made the Herb and Pork Rillettes from the Riverstone Kitchen's new cookbook (I don't have the book, but the recipe was in November 2011's Cuisine) as an entree for Christmas lunch. (Picture here). They were awesome. So at the very least, I had to know how they stood up to the original playing at home (very well as it turned out!).

We booked for 3, being me, Pav and Steph our friend from Christchurch, but by the time we had spent 5 days in Christchurch we had acquired 3 more eaters. Brilliant!! First to Fleurs where the windy, bumpy road did its best to put us off, but this place's reputation preceded it and we were hungry after a drive from Christchurch.  Lucky too as Fleur does not skimp on meal sizes.

The restaurant is in a building right at the foot of the wharf. From the tables you can see the fishing boats coming in, seagulls circling and the one-gloved-guy scaling and gutting all the fish for the restaurant. Lunch and a show!

View from our table at Fleurs Place

Fleur is a charming host; she popped over to say hello after we had sat down, offering answers to menu questions. She made us feel special for just being there. No wonder she's a legend in the food world and none other than Rick Stein insisted on making a special trip to eat at the restaurant.

Half a muttonbird with spinach and potatoes (and flower)

To the eating: none of us having tasted muttonbird (Maori name: titi) before, we shared half of one for a wee entree. It was salty and fatty, as it always is apparently, but very flavoursome. You can see why it's referred to as 'mutton' – the flesh is a dark red/brown and full of oomph. The texture was to me like an older rabbit or a turkey leg – more fibrous than chicken. The spinach and plainly boiled potatoes served with it were no doubt an attempt to soften down the inherent saltiness of the flesh.

Sole with lime and caper sauce (in paua shell!)

Then we got serious with our fish. My fried whole sole with lime and caper sauce was unbelievably good. They sure know how to cook fish here and each of our dishes, all different, were perfectly cooked. The sole was served with one side of the skin cut out like a picture frame to the tender, luscious flesh below. There isn't much to say about about such well cooked fish except that it's retained its moisture (regardless of the buttery sauce I ate it with) and every piece of it fell off the carcass perfectly.

Remember I said that they don't skimp on portion sizes, well, the chef was apparently concerned that the fish for the whole terakihi dish which Steph ordered were too small, so 2 were delivered. On a plate that you or I would serve nibbles for 10 on! 

Steph was good enough to let me try them (well, actually, she insisted we all help finish the massive meal). The almond butter with fried capers was a triumph. She would have been satisfied with one fish, two was a bit overboard, but luckily we were there to help!

Because we were sea-side, we were careful to remove the spines from our whole fish, rather than turning the fish over to access the other side. The latter method apparently sinks ships. Lucky we know the etiquette. I'm saving you from the photo of the spines piled on a plate!

Here's a shot of the Shellfish Hot Pot:

After the fish course, we retired to Oamaru to rest up for dinner. And what a dinner it was!

Riverstone Kitchen is on State Highway 1 just north of Oamaru. It's more than a restaurant, it's a garden, a play area for kids, a store and no doubt an expression of how the Smiths who own and run the place want to live. The main building is surrounded by a beautiful garden which they are quite happy for diners to wander around.  Pav and I got some ideas for our own garden and one of our companions says she saw the zucchini for my soup being picked just as we arrived.

The menu is a treasure of North Otago produce. The meat is apparently butchered on site and certainly most if not all of the vegetables and fruit are from the gardens just outside. Another example: the menu lists “Havoc pork with jasmine rice, spouting broccoli, chili, soy + garlic”, but the exact cut of pork is determined each night by what is available.  For us: loin.

All diners were happy to play the 'try not to order double ups' game, so we tried pretty much all the menu. Again, everything was cooked to perfection. The vegetables were captured at their peak, the meats were cooked just as they called for. Nothing was out of place. And yet, there wasn't anything show off-y or complicated about the food. It's the sort of food you imagine you could cook at home, but of course is difficult without daily access to a plentiful, well-loved garden, the very best of everything else and a serious but not stuffy, deft touch in the kitchen. This is how restaurants in a garden country should be.

The rillettes (ordered by a companion) were smooth and soaked in flavour. My soup was 6 or 7 ingredients blended exquisitely to make a zucchini, basil and parmesan masterpiece.

Zucchini, basil and parmesan soup

Capellini with broadbeans, lemon, mint and ricotta

The goats' curd tart was announced 'light as air'. The pasta was passed around excitedly as if to say 'I'm so proud I ordered this!'

The smoked salmon was declared 'pretty large for an entree' and delicious, even after all that fish.

Our mains were all fine pieces of meat, cooked exquisitely and treated to accompaniments fresh and pleasurable enough to make one squeal with delight, and squeal we did. My Wakanui beef steak was cooked just as I asked and the smoked almonds are coming home with me!

Pav's chicken, served on braised lettuce with tarragon, made him smirk with joy. The lamb at the far end of the table, with couscous, caponata and pomegranate molasses will live on in the memory of all who tasted it, especially the very pleased orderer who got to eat almost all of it. Even the kale side dish (one of us, who shall remain nameless, is kale-obsessed) with more smoked almonds was worth dipping into three times.

The lamb that will enter into legend

Then there was dessert. Pav and I made room (just behind the sole and muttonbird, under the smoked almonds, hiding next to the steak in my case) for Chocolate Nemesis, a famously difficult* chocolate cake with its origins at the River Cafe in London. With the blackcurrent ice cream, it was to die for. The panna cotta with roast rhubarb sent the eater muttering with happiness and Steph bought the restaurant's cookbook almost on the basis of the Panettone Pudding with Zabaglione Ice Cream alone.

Panna cotta with roasted rhubarb

We almost died with pleasure.  Or overeating.  One or the other.

Then to bed.

Next day to Steam in Oamaru for caffeinated beverages and then after a walk around the alternating steampunk and 19th Century old town before a quick visit to Whitestone Cheeses. Cool story: their Windsor Blue was a favoured cheese of the 'Scrubs' cast and crew for their weekly wrap parties. So much so that when the LA supplied stopped selling it, a mercy email was sent to Oamaru to fix the problem. Which it duly was with a hand delivery!

Then off for lunch at the Loan and Merc.

Fleur herself had warned me of the below par service and she wasn't wrong. It's not that they were rude or silly, just that they didn't seem to know what they were doing. Someone else warned me of the small portion sizes, but that had been fixed.

Osso Buco

We were down to just 4 eaters by now, the other 2 having returned to Christchurch to do something as frivolous as buy a house. We doubled up on meals here, because we struck some of our favourites. My osso buco was cooked well, the traditional accompaniment of saffron-flavoured risotto alla milanese replaced by couscous, which did it not harm at all.

I love slow cooked almost anything so this was a treat for me and would have been for any other meat eater too.

The cottage pie Pav and Steph had wasn't the best thing they had ever tasted.  Pav says it reminds him of family cooking, OK, but not great.  

And then, suddenly, our eating was over and we were thrust back into wobbly Christchurch.

You should definitely start planning your own North Otago Odyssey. Riverstone Kitchen or Fleurs Place are both worth the travel time alone. Go early and walk around the garden at Riverstone.

* don't tell Pav it's difficult because he's made one without realising its alleged difficulty and in the absence of that sort of pressure pulled it off magnificently!

Rugby, Pizza and Pig's Head

The Oval Ball Global Challenge continues unabated which means that I have now watched more rugby in 2 weeks that in probably the last 20 years (that's about 2 games). And what does rugby mean in terms of food? It means pizza and spicy nuts.

I've been experimenting with coatings for nuts and working with the base of 3 cups of nuts to 1 beaten egg, plus salt and spices. Our favourite so far is:

3 cups of raw mixed nuts

1 egg white (don't use a big one, otherwise this could end up LA omletty)

2 T chopped fresh rosemary

½ t freshly ground salt

½ t ground paprika (you can use more if you want to )

1 t brown sugar (I used dark muscovado, but it's not necessary)

Heat oven to 180 degrees. Beat the egg white until sloppily beaten. Stir remainder of ingredients except nuts in to the egg white. Then stir in the nuts. Spread nuts on a baking tray lined with baking paper and roast for 13 minutes or so until the egg white is dry and the nuts roasted (shake the nuts about half way through). Let them cool before serving so that the egg white and salt can go crispy. Don't worry, they don't taste sweet, the sugar just adds to the crunch and helps carry the spice.

Other combos include salt, finely grated lemon zest and chilli. And a Moroccan-inspired mix of salt, nutmeg, chilli, cumin and ground coriander seeds. Try your own and let me know if you hit on a good combo of your own.

Our pizza this week was ricotta spread on the base, proscuitto, canned artichokes, Kapiti's fresh mozzarella and basil (added after the pizza is cooked). I used Annabel Langbein's pizza base recipe from Smart Food for Busy People (an old favourite, with some great early 90s period crockery!). The pizza came out better off than the pizza 'stone' (which was actually an untreated tile that we bought for this very purpose).  Clearly it didn't like that 270 degrees of the oven this time. Coward!

Ex-pizza stone in 3 pieces!

New pizza stone ahoy!

And a couple of weeks ago, I made a pilgrimage to West Auckland to check out The Tasting Shed which an old TV colleague has opened with her husband in an old cider shed on the grounds of Cooper's Creek vineyard. It's a quicker than you imagine 20 minute drive down the spanking new extension to SH16. No more dog leg, just straight through to Kumeu.

You should take the road too and check out the great venue, food and wine on offer from Jo and Ganesh Raj.

The food options are on blackboards around the room and (as the name would suggest) are designed to be shared. Each that we had was a plate of well thought out and creative cooking. The rolled pig's head which was served with kohlrabi remoulade was a firm suggestion from Jo and she was spot on. That and the filo 'cigar' filled with duck confit served with orange salad and red cabbage were highlights of the savory selections. One small criticism: the fish had one too many flavours on it, but that's a small criticism of an otherwise excellent spread.

Our wine match (suggested by Jo, and again spot on) was the Coopers Creek Single Vinyard Arneis 2010 from Gisborne. Dessert was matched with Alvear Pedro Ximenez (that's the grape variety) 2008 from Montilla Moriles (in the Andalucia area of Spain). That's sherry country, but this wasn't a sherry but of a smokey, raisiny, caramely dessert wine. It was very easy to drink with both the Churros con Chocolate and the Brioche French Toast with honey and fig ice cream.

French Toast with Ice Cream and Honey

You should make the trip, either from Auckland, or if you're from further afield, next time you're in the 09. Get out of the city and try The Tasting Shed. Easier to get to than Parnell and way easier to park in than Ponsonby, and chances are the owner will serve you so you know it will be friendly.

Ceiling Lamps at The Tasting Shed

Lasting impressions:

food: surprising and delighting and to share

service: we were spoiled because we know the owner, but I reckon you'll be to

drive out: no hassle at all and parking's a dream

time to go: we were there at night, but it looks like it would be a great sunny day or summer's evening trip (they have an 'dog box' for private functions, which looks like a goodie for a loud laugh without disturbing your dinner neighbours)

also: there's a courtesy van, so you can be delivered home after imbibing
décor: upgrade to an old cider shed and it's sympathetic with a few sweet touches (lovely lamps on the ceiling and apple box shelving)

The Tasting Shed

609 State Highway 16

Kumeu

09 412 6454

www.thetastingshed.co.nz

Some Like it Hot

It's been a week of chillis.

People know about my chilli obsession.  So much so, that I am often presented with them when there are too many in someone's garden. Suits me fine.  These from my friend's mum!

Chilli 1 - sausage
During a visit to the Harbourside Market beside Te Papa on Sunday, we purchased a piece of chilli sausage from the caravan of Milan Malivuk – branded Little Wolf (a translation of his surname). It's lovely dried spicy pork sausage which can be eaten as is or cooked in meals. So Pav stirred it into a stock, onion, chickpea and canned tomato soup. No need for other flavours as the sausage releases its spices (mainly paprika and garlic I think, but it's a secret of course) to flavour the entire soup. Marvelous, fuss-free eating. These are handmade, preservative-free and worth finding at the market, Moore Wilson's or the Mediterranean Food Warehouse.

Chilli 2 - sorbet
Then, after Pav went on tour, I went back to the Boys of Breaker Bay and made dessert again. This time poached pears and chocolate chilli sorbet (dairy free). The recipe as written doesn't contain chilli, but that's never stopped me.

Poaching pears is simple – peel fairly ripe pears, trim the bottom so the pears will sit up unaided, poach in flavoursome, preferably sweet, liquid (almost anything will do) until tender. You can scoop out the core of the pear from the bottom, but I never do. I'm not that posh.

I poached these beurre bosc pears in sugar and water and a pinch each of cinnamon, ginger (of course!) and chilli powder.

I love dark chocolate and chilli and so should you! Chilli and chocolate are double fun – the double aphrodisiac of the chocolate and the chilli justifies this combination alone. However, I believe that chilli is also an anti-inflammatory, a pain killer and an anti-depressant. Added to what we know about the revitalizing powers of chocolate, what more excuses do you need!?

This is the easiest 'ice' I've ever made. Sugar (1/3 cups brown, 1 and 2/3 cups white), water (4 cups), cocoa (2 cup) and vanilla (1 tablespoon). Melt the sugar in the water over heat, then add the cocoa and simmer for 2 minutes, stirring constantly. It thickens slightly. Add the vanilla and then chill for at least 2 hours. Then churn in your available method – machine or by hand (freeze in flat metal dish for 2 hours, break up firmly with whisk or fork, freeze for 2 hours, break up, repeat a few times). Churning in a machine produces a smoother mixture, but it's not so much better that you shouldn't do the other if you're an ice cream maker-free household. I added the chocolate/chilli nibs as the mix churned. A good half teaspoon ground up, I'd say.  See picture of chocolate/chilli nibs.

I served the pears with the sorbet and some of the left over syrup reduced by fast boiling. The more the sorbet melted, the more the essential oils of the chillis were released. Essentially it got more exciting as the temperature increased. As it should. Tee hee.

Chilli 3 - Larb Plaa
Then, a few days later, my chilli-enthusiast friend and I snuck into Ban Mai Thai at 111 Vivian St for a quick dinner. We only stayed for a main-course-sharing session, so I can't give you a full review, but suffice to say I've been about 4 times over the last few years and these guys never fail to deliver great tasting food for good prices.

This was no exception. We ordered two hot and spicy dishes and the outstanding one was the Larb Plaa, which was fish fillet with chilli, lemongrass, onion, kaffir lime leaves, galangal, lime juice and herbs. It was hot-spicy-hot, but layered with levels of flavour so that there was still something to roll around the tongue. The fish had been shredded and mixed with the other flavours to make the dish like a warm salad. The beef and pepper dish was also tasty, but the fish was the winner on the night.

Hot flavours for a cold mid-winter week. I wonder how I can get chillis into my breakfast next week?