green mussels paella

Right after the recent visit to Victoria we were supposed to have another great paella soiree, joined by no other than Fenn. For the first time I was about to try green mussels, which my conservative palate probably would have replaced by the classic blue ones.

She brought a fabulous pinot noir from Martinborough, New Zeland, which I had never tried before. It was a 2002 Ata Rangi pinot noir.

Made with a really sweet crab stock, those green mussels, shrimps, calamari and clams as the main characters, this paella was another step forward in Lynn's career as the new paella queen of the dessert.

The end of the evening had to elements: fruit, plus tea and coffee. And starfruit was as a matter of fact the star of this plate, I must say.

At the last minute we found out Lynn was going to bring some companion for our orphan tea and cold drip coffees: in situ freshly baked madeleines, made from scratch, and full of a delicious lemony spirit.

city wine stop

It's always exciting to discover new interesting wines, but it's never easy to find places where that regularly happens. Melbourne is a good destination for that to happen, so lately we've trying to benefit from it.

On Spring street there is a nice spot where the wines by the glass are displayed on the wall, whites on the left and reds on the right. I wouldn't say their two kind of wine mini alters on that green wall make a beautiful solution, but it works if seating by the bar, as I was doing last Friday. You can easily see how much they will charge you for each glass of wine, and therefore make a quick financial plan for the night.

The other wall, however, is the most compelling one. As I walk in I always feel a hidden magnetic force which makes me look to the left, wondering which are the new wines in the shop. They usually have most of the Victorian wines I find quite  revealing: William Downie, ByFarr, The Wanderer or Bindi were there last week.

Their menu offered on the blackboard, without invading the tapas territory, has been wisely designed to build a successful wine experience. Among a generous selection of alternatives, the rillettes with cornichon are definitely not a bad choice.

colossal loam

Last Saturday our Victorian road trip took us to Drysdale. This unknown place for me is not far from Geelong, a small town with gorgeous architecture, interesting wine makers and and irresistible funeral cars. At least the silver Tucker's Mercury my eyes were able to scan from my car seat.

We picked a day of parades, which made us spend almost forty minutes going through downtown Geelong, and arriving late to our gastro-rendez-vous. The countryside landscape often was a bit bucolic, as we got closer to Loam's headquarters.

Getting a table was a very last minute plan, which we weren't really counting on, but a sudden cancellation opened a brilliant opportunity for our palates. Bill Downey told me about it las time I saw him at his place for lunch, too.

It was a grey day on a grey gravel road, known as Andersons road, right before arriving to our desired destination.

The first bites were four interesting examples of "amuse-boucherie": cured meats and mussels were the most basic ones.

Squid, ink and unripe tomato sauce, with an intriguin 2008 d'meure chardonnay, all the way from Tasmania.

The stripy trumpeter on an avocado paste, under a fine layer of pork fat plus anchovie was a real revelation. A 2009 Meridies Soave classico was ideal.

I have always loved sea urchin, so popular in Asturies. But this was going to be my first Victorian sea urchin with silverbeet, broad ben flower and chiken skin, together with a 2009 Alpha Box & Dice " Golden Mullet Fury" 50% muscadelle and 50% chardonnay from South Australia.

A real tasty shocker were the duck tongues with salsify, chickweed and horseradish. A 2010 Paradise IV chardonnay from the Moorabool Estate winery located in Batesford, Victoria, was another happy discovery.

My first Hopkins River beef ever, with Jerusalem artichokes and beach herbs, topped with tongue was genuinely mouth watering. A 2008 Vogel shiraz helped defining the whole process.

A piece of Mauri Taleggio cheese surrounded by fermented cabbage and wild honey, perfectly matched a 2010 Best's pinot meunier.

This dessert almost concluded such a mind blowing afternoon: mandarin, almond, coconut and young pine jelly drops, which worked really well with a 2010 Massolino moscato d'Asti.

Finally a couple of not exactly mini lemon tarts with dried blue berry crams on top arrived. Our Loam induction was a colossal success.

Perhaps this could be our top wine quartet of the afternoon, which may not have  the same positive impact without this fascinating food...

mary of collingwood

One more breakfast in Melbourne was coming and we couldn't avoid going to Proud Mary's, in Collingwood, perhaps where our dear Collin was meant to live in at some point of his Collinesque crusade. I guess this spot has become our latest morning trend while in town.

After a Honduras cold drip we brought a sweeter side to our morning digestive rituals. They had an intriguing blood orange pound cake, which made our first solid order and provided a very edgy flavour.

My warmer choice was a powerful porridge with coconut, banana and honey, great to fuel my first portion of the day; a very satisfying option.

The fresh fruit plate with yogurt was not only visually, but in fact impressive in all its capacities.

By the time we left there was a very yellow Ford Ranchero 500 ute, which I guess looked kind of funny in 2011, but for some unclear reason it got my attention. It probably generated some type of time machine effect, maybe taking my back to the 80s?

ron, lynne and mahi mahi

I suspect this is our unofficial Fish Face season: three times in the last nine days is not a bad average. This time I was joined by Lynne and Rocket Ron, who made it a quite special an enjoyable evening.

A few hours earlier I had picked up a very nice bottle of chardonnay by Farr, 2009; perfect for this, or I guess any, celebration of fish and seafood.

I initiated my fishfacing ritual with an incredibly fresh trevalli carpaccio. It almost felt as if it was alive on the plate, wishing to jump into my mouth...

After the previously successful shrimp ravioli digestions last week, the three of us went for it. Ron and myself shared an order as our second starter, before getting into the serious fish business. Before this, he had ordered a consome, which looked ideal for a winter day. I'm sure our dear Collin would love to exchange it for his cabbage soup while surviving his cold and dark winters around Lord Elgin's neighbourhood.

Besides the perfect company around the table, a fabulous mahi mahi was my highlight of the day. It's a hard to describe bite, but I'd say it is in some unclear zone between the sword fish and the blue-eye trevalla. Perfectly cooked to my specifications, somewhere in that always delicate territory of rawness and fine cooking, where flavour and freshness perpetrate the best possible communion.

Earlier today I was reading that mahi mahi means "very strong" in Hawaiian, and the fish l'd say looks like a submarine with rockabilly hair. Coryphaena hippurus is its less familiar name, somehow matching its unusual anatomy. 

That's how I like it, and it doesn't matter if we are talking fish or meat. I imagine my brain requires some sort of blood related stimulation, of course, in a very moderate way; gore is definitely not my thing.

Sand whiting with basil was Lynne's choice of the day. Perhaps not as interesting as mine, but full of taste.

Rocket Ron recharged his operating system with a quite sculptural reinterpretation of flat head. His plate almost looked like one of those Inuit stone signs you can find up North the Canadian domaines.

Sometime before we were done, we figured out we were meant to enjoy gelato. We left without any dessert straight to Messina, which always provides stimulating amounts of frozen material. I couldn't avoid their blood orange one, pairing a well deserved dark chocolate which covered my cone of volatile happiness.

my bindicated day

Last month I had the chance to drive to the Bindi Winery in Gisborne, about fifty kilometres Northwest of Melbourne, in the Macedon Ranges. The trip was really short, although once I got there it really felt like I was too far away from the urban pollution.

It was a grey day, but the landscape was still so captivating, and to my surprise it seems to be well populated by that jumping creature so representative of this island: the kangaroo. As soon as I entered the property, right by the vineyard, I could see a relaxed herd of kangaroos jumping around, some of them looking at me like if I was coming from a different planet.

Quite amazing to be received in such an honourable way, by no other than mother nature of Victoria. 

There are two planted hectares of chardonnay and four of pinot noir, typically yielding 3,5 to 5 tones per hectare. A really splendid vineyard to stare at.

Michael was kind enough to show me around before we started the tasting, following a visit from a group of American sommeliers. His Bindi Block Five pinot noir (planted in 1992), Quartz chardonnay (planted in 1988) and Bindi Original Vineyard pinot noir (planted in 1988) were probably my top three favourites.

carnivore times

Unexpected things happen in life, and this is one of those situations hard to anticipate. Lynn came up with the idea of having hamburgers, but home made quality ones, which later on translated into meat balls. So we went to the butcher and picked up the meat, which was supposed to join a bowl with a couple of eggs, bread crams, rosemary, chives, and a little bit of salt.

Once the mix was cooked, adding tomato sauce, fried onion and mushrooms made it all more harmonious and much better lubricated.

In order to enrich our carnivore episode in style, it made sense to bring some flowers that could fit into this picture. Lynn brought very colourful pincushions, also know as "Leucospermum", which depending of the angle of vision can look like carnivore ones.

I can't remember why I decided to make a meat ball sandwich, but I did. I guess I was in front of the right material to go a little farther in this unbelievable attempt to emulate the hungry American masses. The final outcome was kind of hard to handle, literally, but it still made a pretty decent and proteinic lunch, maybe worth replicating in the next decade..

sucu's anatomy lesson

It's been a few months since I last had snapper, and I mean the "Pagrus auratus", not the other one that belongs to the Lutjanidae family. This natural beauty was original from New Zeland waters.

Steaming our snapper seems to have lately become a habit, which we definitely enjoy. This allows enjoying its full flavour and freshness, and the mess around the kitchen is minimal.

In a minor experimental approach I decided to use orange, together with mint, carrots and extra virgin olive oil. I felt lemon would have been more exciting, but this still was a fine combination.

A 2008 chardonnay from the Yarra valley discovered in our last trip to Melbourne helped this unpremeditated exploration: PHI, from the Lusatia Park vineyard.

I find this is a very easy fish to eat because its bone structure is clearly defined; no surprises, unless not paying attention.

The new octagon design tonka vanilla bon bon from the Kakawa factory was a quite fulfilling finale to conclude this anatomic snapper exposure. I'm a bigger fan of their original and more colourful shape, but this didn't affect in any way the delicate explossion of flavours happening inside my mouth.