The excerpts below from Bill Bryson’s book At Home is especially interesting to me. My diet over the last year has largely been Paleolithic – pastured animal fat and protein, roots, greens and berries – with some Neolithic food thrown in, namely butter, cream, cheese and olive oil. Health-wise, I’ve never felt better. Have a read. There is such an obvious link between Neolithic food and disease and Bryson describes it so wonderfully. You’l enjoy this one.
“It is not as if farming brought a great improvement in living standards. … A typical hunter-gatherer enjoyed a more varied diet and consumed more protein and calories than settled people, and took in five times as much vitamin C as the average person today. Even in the bitterest depths of the ice ages, we now know, nomadic people ate surprisingly well – and surprisingly healthily. Settled people, by contrast, became reliant on a much smaller range of foods, which all but ensured dietary insufficiencies. The three great domesticated crops of prehistory were rice, wheat, and maize, but all had significant drawbacks as staples. As the journalist John Lanchester explains: ‘Rice inhibits the activity of Vitamin A; wheat has a chemical that impedes the action of zinc and can lead to stunted growth; maize is deficient in essential amino acids and contains phytates, which prevent the absorption of iron.’ The average height of people actually fell by almost six inches in the early days of farming in the Near East. Even on Orkney, where prehistoric life was probably as good as it could get, an analysis of 340 ancient skeletons showed that hardly any people lived beyond their twenties.
“What killed the Orcadians was not dietary deficiency but disease. People living together are vastly more likely to spread illness from household to household, and the close exposure to animals through domestication meant that flu (from pigs or fowl), smallpox and measles (from cows and sheep), and anthrax (from horses and goats, among others) could become part of the human condition, too. As far as we can tell, virtually all of the infectious diseases have become endemic only since people took to living together. Settling down also brought a huge increase in ‘human commensals’ – mice, rats, and other creatures that live with and off us – and these all to often acted as disease vectors.
“So sedentism meant poorer diets, more illness, lots of toothache and gum disease, and earlier deaths. What is truly extraordinary is that these are all still factors in our lives today. Out of the thirty thousand types of edible plants thought to exist on Earth, just eleven – corn, rice, wheat, potatoes, cassava, sorghum, millet, beans, barley, rye, and oats – account for 93 percent of all that humans eat, and every one of them was first cultivated by our Neolithic ancestors. Exactly the same is true of husbandry. The animals we raise for food today are eaten not because they are notably delectable or nutritious or a pleasure to be around, but because they were the ones first domesticated in the Stone Age.
“We are, in the most fundamental way, Stone Age people ourselves. From a dietary point of view, the Neolithic period is still with us. We may sprinkle our dishes with bay leaves and chopped fennel, but underneath it all is Stone Age food. And when we get sick, it is Stone Age diseases we suffer.”
Hello dear reader. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? The Food Blog has been on a break – I realised in November that the blog has turned 5 and I thought, hey, why not, have a break over Christmas and New Year and relax.
Well, I’m soon to be back in full swing, having recovered from a mostly unbelievable year. I’m kicking off the year with a dinner event with The Social Dinner Club. The theme for this month is Lebanese, so I’ve designed some really fantastic dishes for the night. For more information on the event, the Social Dinner Club’s concept and details on how to book, go to the event’s page by clicking here.
Set menu for Social Dinner Club $63^ p.p
Baba ghanouj with pomegranates and chili pistachio relish
Red hummus with sujuk
Five herb and shanklish salad
Rozz a Djej – slow-cooked lamb shoulder and chicken with spiced rice pilaf, cashews, almonds and caramelised onions
Baba ghanouj with pomegranates and chili pistachio relish
Red hummus with pine nuts
Five herb and shanklish salad
Trick kibbeh – pumpkin kibbeh with caramelised onion stuffing in a garlic and goat yoghurt soup
Walnut and candied chickpea trifle
Truffle oil is one of those ingredients that are so fashionable to hate right now. Vilification and bigotry are so common when it comes to food, and if some big shot decides truffle oil is a crap ingredient, everyone else blindly agrees. You hear it over and over again: “it’s not the real thing” or “it’s a cheap rip off”. It becomes so hard to disagree when everyone make such quick judgement. I happen to like truffle oil. I don’t care if it’s not the same as shaving a hundred dollar piece of fungus on a perfectly cooked egg. In my opinion, truffle oil has its place in the kitchen, just like chili oil or lemon oil. It adds so much flavour to food that it’s a shame not to use it.
What gives truffle oil its bad reputation is a family of oils infused with artificial truffle aromas – some chemical made in a lab and engineered so that it smells like truffle. Completely fake. But there are also great products out there. Real olive oil infused with real truffle. I get mine from Simon Johnson and there’s a small slice of black truffle floating around in the oil. It’s strong and earthy and I use it in small amounts when I roast my mushrooms. Try and get your hands on some good truffle oil. Toss thick slices of mushrooms in some salt, olive oil, chopped garlic and a drizzle of truffle oil. You can also sprinkle a bit of dried thyme on top. Bake in a tray covered with aluminium foil for around 30 minutes at 190c. Take the foil off and bake for a further 30 minutes until the mushroomy liquid has evaporated and the mushrooms are soft and dark. I love making big batches of these mushrooms and I keep them in the fridge for days. They go with anything – eggs, pasta, steak, sandwiches – and the truffle oil only makes them more delicious. A good truffle oil is a beautiful thing.
Man it’s good to have my own kitchen once more. I get to cook what I want again! Sometimes, the things I like are not so popular, so I apologise if today’s recipe doesn’t appeal to everyone.
Liver. Offal. Are you into it? I sure am. Apart from being a Lebanese who, like many of my countrymen, eats liver for breakfast, this blogger is, mostly, a low-carber (20kgs lost so far!). I see this photo and I salivate. Maybe my fat-fueled body craves the organ meat or maybe I salivate because because I know how bloody delicious this dish is.
OK. Forget the fact that it’s liver for a second. Look at the remaining ingredients. Butter (from Pepe Saya), cumin, paprika, chili and wild, free-range thyme. Yes, thyme that has freely roamed the hills of Lebanon and has made the long journey to Sydney back with me. Doesn’t it sound awesome? Even Lainy, who usually takes the liver-let-die option, ate and enjoyed it. I first tried this dish at Efendy. In Turkish, it’s called yaprak ciger: leaf liver. I guess it’s so named because the liver is thinly sliced into shapes that resemble leaves. Not sure. Don’t quote me. But does it really matter?
Here’s the recipe, passed down to me by none else but Somer, my main man at Efendy. I’ve changed it a bit but it still works miracles. Buy some fresh calf’s or lamb’s liver. Get your butcher to thinly slice and clean it. Mix a good deal of paprika, pepper, red or black Turkish chili, thyme and cumin together. If you want, dust the liver with flour after washing and drying it, but you don’t have to. Heat up a skillet or a frying pan. Toss in a good deal of quality butter. Add the liver (don’t overload). Add the spice mixture and some salt. Fry the liver, turning occasionally when there’s a bit of colour to it. Don’t fry for more than 3 minutes or so, otherwise it gets too dry. Take off the heat and rest for 3 minutes – if the liver is fresh, it shouldn’t release much liquid. Add some thinly sliced onions and stir around to coat the liver and the onions with the spices. Destroy.
Following a massive October, time is slowing down again and life is falling into place. I finally have a place of my own, after being displaced for close to 6 months (hence the low frequency of blogging) and it’s great having all the dinners I had been planning all behind me now. The eggplant dinners and secret dinners I’ve organised have been a huge success, but man, they were exhausting. Without the massive amount of support I’ve received, things may have turned out differently.
The post below is a guest post by Linda To, aka: cuz, Jonathan, your sister and what’s your name again?. Linda is a good friend of mine, a hugely talented cook and a blogger at Eat Show and Tell, one of my favourite Sydney blogs. Below she shares her experience of being part of the secret dinner team. Here’s a huge thank you to Linda, Justine, Darren and Thomas from Restaurant Atelier where my secret dinners were held, Somer, Anise and the boys from Efendy and Priscila, my friend from Romeu & Julieta.
Linda To, the creator of a most awesome secret dinner dessert, writes:
The last couple of weeks has been one of the most amazingly intense experiences that I have ever experienced. Thanks to Fouad, I was fortunate enough to be involved in a couple of Secret Dinners for the Crave International Food Festival. This will be a relatively long post summarising the highs and lows of my journey, so sit back, relax and enjoy.
It all started 5 weeks ago. Howard and I bumped in to Fouad and a friend whilst walking along George St in the city to our dinner destination one saturday night. It had nearly been a year since I’d seen Fouad, with his newborn baby Sara and months of travelling around the middle east taking up his time, the bloke was a busy man so it was quite a pleasant surprise.
Fouad proceeded to introduce us to his friend, the conversation went something like this:
Fouad: Hey Guys, this is my friend Linda. Linda, this is my friend Howard and…
All four of us must have stood there for about the longest 5 seconds ever with Fouad staring at me in confusion. Sensing this, I reminded Fouad that my name was also Linda =P. Understandably embarassed by this encounter, we both laughed it off and bid each other farewell.
An hour later, I received a message from Fouad apologising profusely for the little mishap, but more importantly asking me whether I’d like to work with him on a couple of Secret Dinners. Having worked with Fouad before, I knew this was too good an opportunity to miss, however I did vow to never let him forget about “that” incident.
Fast forward one week to the first Secret Dinner. At 5pm on Sunday, the guests were notified of the location of the dinner via SMS which was at Restaurant Atelier in Glebe. Fouad suggested that I come up with a Lebanese inspired dessert for the secret dinners. On such short notice I wasn’t able to come up with a dessert I was actually happy with, so we both agreed that we could serve a dessert that Fouad previously made for his chickpea dinner.
Fouad divised the menu in to 4 courses; Cold Mezze plus a salad, Hot Mezze, Main and Dessert. Cold Mezze served on the first night were: deliciously smooth Chicken Liver Parfait dressed with pomegranate molasses, pieces of pomegranate seeds and watercress salad; and Hummus with pomegranate molasses.
These Cold Mezze were served with freshly baked turkish bread. I am generally not a fan of hummus finding it little bland (please don’t shoot me), however I found the addition of the pomegranate molasses added that much needed kick that I was yearning for. The salad was the only consistant factor throughout the three dinners, a refreshingly herb salad consisting of tomato, cucumber, radish, red onion, watercress, A LOT of thyme, cheese and olive oil.
Prior to serving each of the courses, Fouad would go out and describe to the diners the next dish, the history of the dish and sometimes adding anecdotes of his family’s influences. Most of the time whilst Fouad did his thing, I was busy in the kitchen plating the dishes whilst desperately trying to listen to his stories. The only thing I can derived from listening to Fouad’s gibberish (=P) is that this guy is one hell of a storyteller.
Hot Mezze for the first night were Fried Pumpkin Kibbeh stuffed with minced lamb and onion, served with a yoghurt and green chilli dip. Initially Justine (sous chef of Atelier) and I had difficulty shaping the Kibbeh in to it’s traditional oval shape. Realising the impossibility of producing 65-70 evenly shaped kibbeh, Fouad suggested we used plastic dariole moulds to help shape the kibbeh, producing what we later named the “Fez Hat” Kibbeh.
The other hot mezze served on the night was my Linda Fried Chicken Wings (LFC) served with Toum (Garlic Sauce). I absolutely adore toum, thanks to El Jannah in Granville, however after tasting Fouad’s version, I think Fouad’s could rival the holy grail.
Fouad proudly presented his Main course of Moghrabieh served on a round platter approximately 1m in diameter (I may be exaggerating a little) to a silent room. Each person stopped in their tracks as they realised the sheer monstrosity of the platter. It was definitely the talking point for the remainder of the night. The Moghrabieh was cooked in a concentrated chicken stock, topped with tender, fall off the bone roast lamb shoulder and poached chicken.
To finish off the night, we served Fouad’s trifle chickpea dessert. The bottom layer consisted of a Labneh, thickened cream and icing sugar mix, it was then covered by pieces of Mamoul-mad (a semolina and walnut cookie/cake), another layer of the Labneh mix, sprinkling of chopped candied chickpeas and finally garnishing of vibrant candied orange blossom. Each components of the dessert worked really well together, the tangy Labneh was a good balance to an otherwise too sweet dessert.
For me, our first secret dinner was the most difficult. Working in an unfamilair kitchen for 10 hours straight, slicing, dicing, chopping and frying took its toll on me and by the end of the night, I was buggered. My back and legs were aching, my arms sore, I was tired and hungry, I wasn’t sure whether I would be able to handle another 2 nights like this. However, learning about all the different traditional Lebanese food that I have never ever heard of before, the franticness (is that even a word?) of getting food ready at service time, and generally having a hoot working with Fouad made all the pain worth it.
The second Secret Dinner a week later was a vegetarian dinner. This time, I found working the entire day much more manageable, this could also be due to the fact that we had a couple of chefs, Greg Malouf, Darren Tempelman, chef and owner of Restaurant Atelier, Efendy’s Somer Sivroglou and Fouad’s friend Priscilla helping us in the kitchen throughout the night. Overall, it was just a relaxing and enjoyable evening.
Cold Mezze served for the Vegetarian dinner were two delicious dips, Muhammarah and Baba Ghanoush served with deep fried Lebanese bread or fresh Lebanese bread. I loved the Muhammarah so much that I smuggled a container home after the dinner. It was a great addition to my mundane sandwiches for lunch.
Hot Mezze for the vegetarians were traditional Turkish Pacanga which Somer happily taught us how to make. As Pacanga are normally filled with Pastrami or prosciutto and kashar cheese, for the vegos, Somer substituted the pastrami for mozarella cheese, creating a super cheesey Pacanga. The other Hot Mezze was Stir Fried Okra, chillies and deep fried bread with pomegranate molasses.
Vegetarians were served main course of “Fez Hat” Kibbeh, however the lamb mixture was subsituted for a caramelised onion and toasted almond and pine nut mix. These fried goodies were served in a yogurt soup.
Once again, dessert for the night was Fouad’s chickpea dessert.
Fouad warned me for the last dinner there was to be no more excuses, he really wanted me to come up with a dessert, the pressure was definitely on. Throughout the month, I had so many ideas racing through my mind, deciding on what Lebanese ingredients to use, and how to incorporate these ingredients in to each components of the dessert. After weeks of experimenting and chopping and changing ideas, finally, 2 days before the dinner, I came up with something I was proud enough to serve to people.
The final dinner was held last Sunday. By this time, I knew the kitchen like the back of my hand and everything ran smoothly on the day. Each person knew their roles and responsibility, we were so efficient that we finished prepping by 4pm, which is extremely rare.
The Cold Mezze were the Muhammarah and Baba Ghanoush, you can’t go wrong with these two beauties. Hot Mezze were traditional Pacanga filled with Pastrami and Kashar cheese and Somer’s Loquat kebabs. The main was the Morabiah that we had served at the first dinner, however the Moghrabiah pasta was replaced by Basmati rice.
Ding Ding Ding. Show time! It was my turn to reveal my dessert.
The aim of my dessert was to utilise ingredients that are commonly used in traditional Lebanese desserts and incorporate it in to modern desserts that most people are familiar with e.g. chocolate cakes, caramels and ice cream. I wanted to show the versatility of these ingredients and hopefully encourage people to experiment with them.
Components of my desserts consisted of:
Looking back, the most memorable moment of the whole event for me was standing back and supervising Darren, Somer, Fouad and Justine plate up what I had conceptualise, my dessert. It was such a surreal moment, something I will remember for a long time.
A special event like this would have not happened without a couple of key people. To finish off this post, there are a few people I would like to thank. Fouad – for giving me the opportunity to work with him again, I meant it when I told him it was such an honour to work with someone that’s so passionate about their food and their culture. The chefs that helped us throughout the month, Somer, Darren and Justine - some of the most resiliant people that I have ever met. All the patrons that came along for the experience, hopefully you all enjoyed yourselves!
Finally Howard - for being my critic and advisor. If you thought Terry Durack was tough, try being criticised by Howard, toughest critic ever!
Its funny how blogging has opened up opportunities like this for me. Hopefully, I get to experience something like this again in the near future.
During my recent trip to Lebanon, I recorded a short segment with my friend Barbara Abdeni Massaad, author of Mouneh and presenter of Helwi w Morra. It was great fun and I made Barbara a dessert influenced by the flavours of the region: olive oil, labneh, lemons and pine nuts. Have a look.
I’m this month’s Featured Foodie on SBS. There’s a nice interview for those interested in finding out a bit more about me. Click here to read it.
Hi. So you want to come to my secret dinners?
Well, the next ones are coming up in October, and are running as part of the Crave Sydney International Food Festival.
Enquire about booking for the secret dinner by sending an email to secretdinner[at]thefoodblog.com.au replacing the “[at]” with “@”.
So what’s a secret dinner? It’s a dinner where the location is top secret and is disclosed to you only hours before the event takes place, by the great power of SMS. The dinner costs $70 per person for a beautiful 4 course sharing feast. The food is in my unique style and will highlight some spectacular dishes rarely seen outside of the Middle East. Diners are expected to bring their own wine and share it with fellow guests. The dates for the secret dinner are:
Sun 09, 7:00 PM
Sun 16, 7:00 PM (VEGETARIAN)
Sun 23, 7:00 PM
Sun 30, 7:00 PM
P.S. Booking will be confirmed after your enquiry and you will be given payment details.