Let’s be frank about something. Brussel sprouts have a reputation problem. Most of the time they’re over steamed or boiled, which leaves them with all of the appeal of a soggy sports sock. This would probably be the time where I’d invoke some dry little anecdote about the brussel sprouts from my youth. Except they …
pork
This is a special pork dish. While I struggled to swallow that our wedding was four years ago, I’m also grappling with the fact that it’s been four years since I wrote this about one of our favourite Japanese restaurants in Sydney. March 2008 When you get the wind knocked out of you, you …
I’ve got lost, circa 1977. I’ve become mislaid in a moment that I know just bits about. It’s before I was even a twinkle in my father’s eye. It’s before my sister was born. Before The Empire Strikes Back. I think it’s about then that devils on horseback had their hay day. These days it’s …
There are dinners that are a gamble. The risk is not whether they’ll work – most food is salvageable to a degree (when in doubt, chop it small and toss it through a frittata). It’s more about how the meal will play for an audience. It’s important to know what people hate. I keep a …
Here’s the thing about ribs. There an absolutist feast. You either love them (usually with with a fire burning passion) or you hate them. If you hate the there’s every chance that the sight of people tearing at sticky, stringy bone-tethered meat with their bare hands makes you hide corner and hum ‘ooh ooh child’ …
