eat, drink, stagger

Archive for March, 2010

March 29 2010

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bombe

We have our very first guest post!

My reason for asking Mike to do a post for Eat, Drink, Stagger was purely selfish. We’ve met briefly in person, but it was on Twitter that I learnt that he has a real love for cooking, but more impressively to me, he’d bought a blow torch specifically to finish bombe Alaska, the dessert of my dreams. I can picture it now my mother’s 70s cookbook and recipe cards – it looked impossible to make! I still haven’t tried the fabled dessert, but hope to one day. I was seduced by those meringue waves…

What also impressed me about Mike is that he really loves cooking and is a ‘nerd’, and thus living proof that the two attributes aren’t mutually exclusive. Bombe Alaska is clearly a dessert attempted by those who take their kitchen activities very seriously. I absolutely loved reading about Mike’s bombe endeavours, and hope you enjoy reading about them too. You can find him on Twitter at @unearthlymike, and he also has a website which details his professional life.

Why hello there! I didn’t see you come in! I’m Michael, your guest blogger for the evening. Come. Sit. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll tell you a tale. A tale of a man and his dessert.

It all started back in February of 1903, when I was a young lad growing up in the Bavarian Alps. No – it actually started one particularly unusual night in the September of 2009. Why was this night so unusual? Because I decided to rot my brain a little further with some so-called reality TV. Celebrity Masterchef to be precise.

Who were the celebrities appearing in that particular episode? I don’t remember. It’s not important. Please refrain from asking questions until I’m finished. It’s dangerous to interrupt a man as he rambles. You wanna get stabbed!?

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, growing steadily bored as the episode progressed, my interest returned when it came to the final challenge. Bombe Alaska.

I watched as the celebrities struggled to follow the recipe they had each been supplied with. I think this is what originally appealed to me – the apparent difficulty of the dish. If I could master this, I could cook anything. But more importantly, it seemed like a dessert that under the right circumstances could lead to a little boob groping.

So I gave it a shot and was promptly charged with indecent assault. Then I realised I had things in the wrong order and needed to make the dessert first. To cut a long story short, it was an average result. The first bombe turned out the best. As I continued, there was a steady decline in quality, as illustrated in the graph below.

For a long time after, I was haunted by the unforgiving face of Matt Preston, scoffing at my less than perfect bombes. I saw him everywhere (but mostly in advertisements, hawking products vaguely related to cooking). This just fuelled my urge to get this recipe right.

Now, many months later, I’m going to attempt the tricky dessert a second time. Yes, this is Bombe Alaska 2: Electric Boogaloo. Documented in Technicolour for your viewing pleasure.

Grab a stone tablet and a chisel, because the ingredients are coming up riiiiiiight…… n…. right nnn…………. NOW!!!:

INGREDIENT LIST

Ice cream

4 egg yolks
4 tbsp caster sugar
1 vanilla bean, scraped (or substitute 1 tsp vanilla essence)
1 tbsp crème de cacao
2 tbsp cocoa
300mls thickened cream

orange purée

1 orange, peeled and chopped
3 tbsp caster sugar
70ml orange juice

meringue

4 egg whites
1 cup caster sugar

‘fancy pants’ optional presentation

60g orange flavoured chocolate
1 orange, sliced into wedges

******

The first step is to make the ice cream. I know, I’m excited too! Half fill a pot with water and bring it to the boil. Reduce to simmer and place a bowl over it.

Bust open the eggs and separate the yolks from the whites. Make sure not to get any yolk mixed in with the whites. If you do, you fail at life and your meringue won’t work. Store the whites in a refrigerated time-capsule for future generations. Combine the egg yolks, caster sugar, and vanilla bean innards in the water-heated bowl.

Using an old-school vintage hand beater (a whisk would also work) whisk the mixture off its feet with romantic gestures. Or just until it becomes thick and pale, like a chubby albino.

Once your mixture is ready, remove the bowl from the pot. Use oven mitts so you don’t drop it like it’s hot. Because it will be. Congratulations, you just made custard. If that’s what you were hoping to achieve, STOP NOW!!! Otherwise, mix in your crème de cacao and thickened cream. PROTIP: The alcohol in the crème de cacao will stop your ice-cream from setting too hard.

This is where the cocoa (sifted) should be added too. I didn’t put any in when I originally made this, and the crème de cacao didn’t give a rich enough chocolate flavour for my tastes. Or any chocolate flavour at all…

Pour this mixture into a plastic container. Old ice cream containers are great for this. Seal it with the lid (if you have one) or some foil and put it into the freezer until firm. A few hours should be fine. Go and watch Avatar or something.

After the credits roll, it’s time to churn the ice cream. Using a knife, slice it up whilst muttering, “Stabbity, stabbity, stab, stab.” This will not only help you release years of suppressed rage, but will also make the ice cream easier to mix. Fire up an electric beater and churn that mother like your life depends on it! Return to the freezer and watch Avatar again.

You can repeat the process as many times as you want. More churning will produce creamier ice cream and give you a better grasp of the Na’vi language.

Alternatively, if you are impatient (what, you don’t like Avatar?) and have an ice cream maker, use that.

For the purée, put your orange, sugar and juice in a saucepan and heat on medium. I actually used two oranges when making this recipe, but found the end result to be a little overpowering so I cut it back to one in the ingredients. Stir occasionally until the liquid is evaporated.

You can use this time to prepare your moulds. But don’t let your purée burn! Or so help me, I will come to your house and give you such a telling off!

I used disposable cups lined with Glad Wrap, but a hollowed out human skull would do the same job.

Once your orange is ready it’s time to ask yourself, “Will it blend?” You’ll be pleasantly surprised to find out that [spoiler alert] it does!

Remove your ice cream from the freezer or ice cream machine. You may need to let it soften a little, or churn it one last time before folding in the blended purée. Don’t over-mix it though, I know how excitable you can get. We just want a ripple of orange running through the ice cream.

Transfer the mix to your moulds and return to the freezer. I ended up with enough for three bombes. So that’s one each for you, your date, and the camera guy.

Meanwhile… start preparing the optional presentation part of the dish. Or don’t. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life.

Spend a quiet moment reminiscing about your custard-making past. Use that same ‘bowl over simmering water’ technique to melt the chocolate. Dip orange wedges into the chocolate but only coat half of each slice. Place them on a plate covered in Glad Wrap and shove it into the fridge. Eat any remaining chocolate as you wait for the ice cream to set again. You know you want to.

When the ice cream is solid, start preparing the meringue. Dig up your time-capsule and put the egg whites in a bowl. Using an electric beater, beat them like a misbehaving child. Staying with the same metaphor, gradually add sugar to keep them from telling anyone. Your meringue should be ready when it forms soft, white peaks.

Remove one bombe from a mould and place it on the ugliest plate you can find. Doing this one at a time (and leaving the others in the freezer) will keep them from melting.

Grab a knife and spread a thin layer of meringue (about a half centimetre thick) onto the bombe.

Brown this using a blow torch whilst singing Pat Benatar’s ‘Fire and Ice’. I picked my torch up from House, who sells kitchen products when he’s not solving medical puzzles.

Any leftover meringue can be baked in mounds on a tray at 90 degrees Celsius for 90 minutes, so as not to waste it.

Arrange three of your choc-coated orange wedges on the side of the plate. Repeat the spreading, browning and wedging for the remaining bombes.

If you followed these directions exactly, you should have gained at least 10,000 EXP. More than enough to level up and face the end boss.

Finally, grab some lube and contraceptives because you are going to get laid!* Even I want to have sex with me for making this!

*Actual results may vary.

As an afterthought, this would also be great with strawberries instead of oranges. Next time Gadget, next time…

March 26 2010

I fought the bock, and the bock won

I shall no longer have to fork over any dosh for Ale Stars, or at least for the next twelve months – for my birthday, I was bought membership! Bring on the monogrammed shirt and engraved tankard, squee!

The Beer Blokes have already written and published their report on Ale Stars and it prompted me to tell you all why I write about these sessions, if you’ll briefly indulge me.

I don’t know much about beer. However, I like learning. Documenting my Ale Stars impressions is a convenient way for me to retain the knowledge I learn. Beer is not something I ever thought I would develop such a liking for. Come to think of it, food wasn’t something I thought I would ever be so passionate about, but you can read about that here, if you like.

Generally speaking, the nature of blogging for me is a glorified diary but up in the public domain. Those who are interested may choose to read it, and I do genuinely hope you find it informative.

Anyway, onto the beer.

The bock is a German-style lager that originates from northern Germany but the southerners would love to have you believe they came up with it themselves. Fair enough, I say. Rather amusingly, the Bavarians pretend the word ‘bock’ is slang for ‘billy-goat’. More seriously, there are German laws that dictate how strong a bock has to be in order to be considered a bock. Again amusingly, the alcohol content of this beer (specifically the eisbock which is last on the tasting schedule for the night) was brought up by the fact that the beer would freeze in transit as it was transported from one colder region to another. Later on, the brewers decided they rather liked this, so adopted it as a method of bringing up the alcoholic content of the beer. Absolutely amazing what happens as a result of an accident.

First up, on tap, the Hunter Brewery with their bock (the Local Taphouse is showcasing this NSW-based brewery at present). I found it subtle with a hint of roastiness. I thought it would have more body than it did, and it was the colour of a dark ale. Moreish. On tap, so no pic.

The second bocky example is from Rogue Ales, based in Oregon, USA. It’s an example of what is called a maibock – a seasonal bock. This brewery uses authentic German hops. Gold, and malty, I’ve marked this one as ‘loved’ on my Ale Stars score card.

The bocks are getting progressively stronger as the session moves along.

This is from one of the oldest operating breweries in the world, circa 1040 AD (holy shit!). It’s a Weizenbock and you can detect some banana and clove in there. It’s a very palate-clean beer. I’ve definitely come round to the whole wheat beer thingy, but this would have been my least favourite.

Last of all, an eisbock – Aventinus Weizen Eisbock by G. Schneider & Sohn. I was absolutely not kidding when I said to @shandyaleczar (beloved Ale Stars host) that this beer made me have flashbacks. It may have ruined a fair few of us at a whopping 12% ABV. It feels very thin in body and reminds me of brandy in aroma. It’s very sweet as far as beer goes. Drinking this is an unforgettable experience. It’s a bit like barleywine too.

Those monks were lucky bastards to have this sort of stuff sustaining them.

Quick, not-beer-related aside – much grats to Guy and his partner on the birth of their daughter Frankie.

March 24 2010

which man’s burger reigns supreme?

Why is it that the best burger joints in Melbourne are just men’s names? You’ve got Danny’s in North Fitzroy, and Andrew’s in Albert Park, and both have excellent reputations. I finally got to try out the burgers at both and decide which for myself was the winner.

I love cheeseburgers, and fast food burgers are cardboard, let’s be honest. Being out and about late at night in the city, Danny’s is an excellent choice – not too far out of the city, has a lovely diner feel and the burgers are made with fresh buns, shredded lettuce and patties.

My dining partner’s burger of choice is the burger with the lot – cheese, tomato, egg, bacon. Often, several patties.

I ordered a cheeseburger at Danny’s but couldn’t get a photo that really captured its glory properly. But here’s one of their chips. We ate more than we should have, but they were just so good. It made The Age’s top ten list a while ago when they did a feature on the best chips in Melbourne.

The diner is really nice at Danny’s, but even though I’ve been in there several times of late, I don’t find the staff to be particularly friendly. However, their drawcard is they are open till 2am. If I’ve driven into the city for a gig and am feeling peckish after, guess where I end up!

Andrew’s shut at 9pm and when I went there, it was packed. There isn’t really anywhere to linger and sit. Albert Park is nowhere near where I live (whereas at least North Fitzroy isn’t too far) so it’s a little bit of a problem not having anywhere to eat my burger. We ended up across the road on a park bench.

Here’s my cheeseburger. Easily one of the best I’ve ever had. None of this plastic-tasting cheese business. The meat patty and cheese together was so satisfying – more flavoursome than Danny’s.

The burger with the lot is fantastic. Delicious meat patties and fresh, flavoursome ingredients. You don’t need to add extra condiments. The chips, however, were absolutely awful – they were very dry and tasted old. I rarely throw food away, but these were turfed on account of how bad they were.

By an inch, I would declare Andrew’s as serving the superior burger. Proximity and the late night opening means that I would most likely frequent Danny’s. However, you can’t be disappointed by either when in the mood for a good old-fashioned (non-gourmet) burger.