Chasing Jalapenos.

Every February the Foodtown in downtown Auckland suddenly becomes overrun by American Exchange Students. The event is akin to the arrival of migrating birds at sudden watering holes in the middle of the Sahara. All of sudden, statements that sound like questions are echoing down the aisles: 'omigod look there's toiletpaper?' 'i totally miss fig newtons?'

Most of these kids are from the west coast of America where Mexican food, or more specifically, Mexican produce, is a constant staple. Coming to the South Pacific, even after that twelve hours plane ride, does not shake the inexorable faith these kids have in the constant supply of jalapeno peppers or Monterey Jack Cheese. And boyoboy, I get a sick, superior feeling thrill as I watch them go ballistic when all they can find, if they are lucky, is an old can of El Paso preserved japapenos. Girls who won't eat chicken skin and carry gallons of purex handiwipes, will pull hair out over a can probably teeming with botulism.

Forget that Mexico is almost 3000 miles away, travellin' Americans want nachos.

People in Auckland will tell you that we have nachos. Technically this is true. It became untrue the first time I pulled a carrot out of the cheddar cheese topped, dorito flavoured pile. It's just not the same thing. Maybe it's like the differences between Marmite and Vegemite. They look the same - if you squint and stand a good three, maybe four, meters away - but as we all know, they're not.

Anyhoodle, the desire for nachos abates after a few years. You move on. You find solace in Burger King. But that craving never goes away. Please don't ask me to say nice things about the Mexican restaurants in Auckland. I just...can't.

So imagine our surprise when we stumbled into the Hawke's Bay Farmer's Market in Hastings (a good 5 hours from Auckland) and found a CHILE PEPPER BONANZA!

Jalapenos! Poblanos! Funny long green ones! Short, smoky brown ones! Habaneros! Thai Fire Chiles. Mild! Hot! Super Hot! Eye Watering! THRILLED.

Like twitchy addicts we fell upon those peppers. We bought handfuls of peppers but we kept returning for more. Just another few poblanos, we said. Maybe three more jalapenos? They reminded us, we ship to Auckland. No no! We assured them, we're fine, we've kicked the habit, but maybe we'll take just a few more.

And so, when we returned home, we had a pile of peppers and if it was possible to roll around in that shit lke Ebenezer Scrooge and not burn our eyes out or ruin the peppers, we would have. Instead we just gazed upon on our collection and decided, oh yes it was good.

and if you don't think that was something special. Look, tomatillos. I heart Hawkes Bay.

Corned Beef and Cabbage Tree

photo by Alan Titchall

When we sent the postcard containing the seeds for the New Zealand Native Cabbage Tree back to Ireland, we congratulated ourselves for so cleverly writing, ‘we heard that upon blooming flowers give off a scent of corned beef with mashed carrots’. We gleefully imagined the garden blooming with corned beef dinners and permeating an aroma of the faint tinge of boiled meat.

So imagine my surprise when I was invited to André’s to a dinner of cabbage tree. ‘Shall I bring the corned beef?’ I joked. ‘That would be lovely!’, said André.

Righto.

The inevitable problem with corned beef is that it is salty, rubbery, and synthetic tasting. This is of course if you buy your corned beef from the supermarket as I do. For the CRAZIES out there who corn their own brisket for days and weeks and months, I can only say you are a more patient and better cook than I. However, for those of you who purchase silverside out of a vacuum packed container in the middle of your meat aisle, there are other solutions.

The way to solve this is to place the meat into a ‘reverse brine’ that will leach much of the artificial salt out of the corned beef while infusing it with moisture and flavour. After which you set out to simmer it in a broth of yummy. The result is a moist, delicious, tender corned beef. Not the same as a brisket you corned yourself but you also don’t suffer from that meat smell that invades your house when you just plunk it into boiling water either.

Brined Supermarket Corned Beef with Parsley Sauce

Reverse Brine
3 T honey
Small handful of peppercorns
3 Bay Leaves
1 small bunch of fresh Parsley
Several sprigs of fresh Thyme
1 T of Red Chile Flakes
Juice and zest of 1 lemon
NO SALT
1.5 kg (ish) of silverside corned beef
Water to cover meat.

Set aside in a coolish place and let it rest at least overnight.
Ours brined for about 18 hours. But it could easily have gone longer.

Corned Beef with Parsley Sauce
2 carrots peeled and chopped
2 onions chopped
Small bunch of parsley
Few springs of thyme
1 T of peppercorns
1 T of Red Chile Flakes
1 Bay leaf
1 T salt

Drain corned beef and place in pot. Place all other ingredients. Cover with water. Bring to a boil, skim, and then cover and simmer for 2 1/2 to 3 hours. Drain and slice. Serve with Parsley Sauce

Parsley Sauce (modified from Saveur Magazine)
2 T butter
2 t finely chopped yellow onion
2 T flour
1 1/4 c of the broth from the corned beef
1/4 c milk
1 tsp. chopped fresh parsley
1 T english mustard
Large pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
Salt and freshly ground black pepper (be heavy handed with your seasoning because of the corned beef is less salty now).

Serve with hearts of cabbage tree boiled and in a salad with vinaigrette.

Where did 2007 go?

Did I not eat? My jeans say nay.
Rather I think I learned the lesson that when one embarks on a Master's Thesis, the idea of writing anything else -- be it email, birthday cards, shopping lists, affadavits, whathaveyou-- they all go by the way side because to actually form words and make phrases is physically incapacitating. I could not sit in front of the computer/grasp pen /use language for a second longer than was absolutely necessary. It may sound like baloney (mmm baloney- shut up you know you love it fried) but it turns out to be the truth. Not like anyone's reading this, which I don't want anyway because then I would have to go read yours.

Anyway, 2007 went away, just a like that, a year of no posts. Which is shame because I ate at some fantastic restaurants. Like the pork belly at Bowman's. And I miss you people. Those of you who don't read this.

And finally. I went to the beer festival this past weekend. Me and most of the unattached males of Auckland. It was like New Zealand's largest frat party. And for some reason, I don't find that to be a bad thing.