cookbook review: saraban - a chef's journeys through persia

Saraban cookbook by Greg and Lucy Malouf.

I have finally stopped procrastinating, and here is my final cookbook review for the year! Following my review a couple months back of Turkish cookbook Turquoise, I'm back with a review of Persian cookbook Saraban from the same authors, Greg and Lucy Malouf.

As we transit from spring to summer, the simple recipe for this refreshing beverage, dugh, caught my eye. This is a savoury yoghurt drink - called dugh in Iran, but known by other names in different countries - I've had it at a Turkish eatery, where it was called ayran, so I already knew I would like it.

Dugh is basically just yoghurt diluted with water and combined with salt - the one I had at the Turkish place used still water, but for this particular recipe, it called for carbonated water, which intrigued me. It also included lemon or lime juice, as well as dried mint - I processed my own by microwaving fresh mint until the leaves are crisp and dry and easily crumbled.

The trick to making a good dugh is to not be too shy with the salt. I don't advise going crazy with it, but you definitely want the brightness of the salt coming through to complement the sourness of the yoghurt. Done right, it's really uplifting on a hot day!

Dugh, a sparkling salted, minted yoghurt drink - also known as ayran, lassi, or tan in various regions.

The other recipe I tried from Saraban was the one for kuku-ye sibzamini - Persian potato cakes spiced with cumin, turmeric and black pepper, and studded with garlic chives and coriander leaves. I have to confess that I veered away from the ingredients quite a bit in this one, due to a desire to work with just what I already have - so I used cumin seeds instead of ground cumin, substituted spring onions for garlic chives, and completely omitted the self-raising flour.

I have to say, too, the Saraban recipe has left me quite curious about the taste of an authentic kuku-ye sibzamini - and whether the dominant element should be the potatoes or the eggs. For example, it calls for two desiree potatoes, but does not give any indication of the approximate size or weight of the potatoes. One would presumably then go for medium-sized, but even that can be subjective, so the results could turn out differently, depending on your choice of potatoes! Also, "kuku" is often described to be a frittata-like concoction, and therefore more of an egg dish - but the English title of "potato patties" muddies the waters yet again. Or in other words, I think too much.

Fortunately, despite my delinquent detours, the ambiguity of the recipe, and the perplexing internal debate, my batter held together - just, and the results were delicious.

Kuku-ye sibzamini - Persian potato patties with herbs and spices, served with a dollop of yoghurt.

Like Turquoise, Saraban is a visually stunning cookbook - I dare say it is even more exquisite, with its sumptuous colours and intricate cutout details - and certainly does a great job of showcasing Iran as a luscious, compelling travel destination. I couldn't help but marvel at interesting fare such as the koofteh tabrizi (giant meatballs stuffed with fruit and nuts), though I don't think I have the fortitude to attempt that dish. The recipe for ash-e sak (spinach soup with little meatballs), on the other hand, looks a lot less daunting, and I might quite possibly try it someday. Another one that could be up my alley is the mahi-e mast-gerdu - yoghurt-baked fish with walnut-herb crumbs.

Anyway, we shall see. I talk often here about perhaps doing this or that, but let's face it, I am not the most industrious person around, as per my blog name. Hey, at least I managed to fulfill my 2016 new year's resolutions in regards to reviewing my neglected cookbooks, right? So, you know... there's hope! :)

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cookbook review: turquoise - a chef's travels in turkey

Turquoise cookbook by Greg and Lucy Malouf.

My third cookbook review for this year is of Turquoise: A Chef's Travels in Turkey. Written by husband-and-wife team Greg and Lucy Malouf, this beautifully presented hardcover cookbook offers captivating insight into the world of Turkish cuisine, complete with intimately descriptive tales of food adventures that spark feelings of wanderlust.

As per usual, I made a beeline for the simpler recipes. The first one that caught my eye was the recipe for smoky eggplant puree (the Turkish name is not provided in the cookbook, but the internet tells me it's called patlican ezmesi), which had an approachable list of ingredients - eggplant, yoghurt, lemon, olive oil, garlic, mint, and salt. I love, love, love the taste of smoky eggplant, and it is something I have not ever attempted at home - until now.

There were some fiddly aspects to this, but it actually wasn't as difficult or time-consuming as I thought it might be, and as I enjoyed it with some crackers, I daydreamed about how I could wow family and friends with this Turkish smoky eggplant dip in the future by serving it at a dinner party at home, or bringing it to a potluck. My only criticism is that there wasn't quite enough of a smoky flavour, even though I cooked the eggplant the proper way, directly over a naked flame, instead of the cheat's version of baking it in the oven. The recipe says to remove every bit of the skin to avoid bitterness, but I'm flirting with the idea of cautiously including some of the charred bits next time, to see if that helps elevate the smoky taste I so adore.

Smoky eggplant puree (patlican ezmesi) - a delicious dip.

A few days later, I turned my attentions to another easy recipe: the shepherd's spinach (kiymali ispanak in Turkish, according to my online research) attracted me with its friendly simplicity - this is a one-pot meal that doesn't put on any airs.

The recipe from the cookbook serves 4 to 6, and calls for a whopping 1 kilogram of spinach. I scaled it down to make just enough for a single meal. For some reason, the authors appear to have forgotten to include the addition of salt to this dish, but fortunately this was easily remedied, and trust me, a bit of salt makes a huge difference! The use of salt instantly turned this dish from bland to scrumptious, and I was happy with the results. Dotted with lamb, rice, and onions, and seasoned with a touch of tomato paste, paprika, and mint, this shepherd's spinach was rustic, hearty, and satisfying.

Shepherd's spinach (kiymali ispanak) - wholesome comfort food.

There are other recipes from Turquoise I'd love to try someday. Flipping through the pages, the Fish Doctor's stew with black pepper, lemon peel and mint - the authors' interpretation of a dish they ate at a seafood restaurant in Istanbul - looked right up my alley, as does the Beyran soup - an alluring breakfast soup with slow-cooked lamb, garlic and green chillies. And for dessert? I think it's got to be the sticky apricots stuffed with clotted cream. Yep, I think I've definitely convinced myself that I should come back to this cookbook again - and let's face it, when it's one as gorgeous as Turquoise, that's not a bad idea at all.

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cookbook review: a month in marrakesh

A Month in Marrakesh: A Food Journey to the Heart of Morocco.

Another installment in my "neglected cookbook series"! This time around, I explore A Month in Marrakesh, a fun cookbook that takes you on a tour of Marrakesh.

As an indolent cook, one thing I really like about A Month in Marrakesh: A Food Journey to the Heart of Morocco, is that it has an abundance of simple recipes. There are also more complicated or time-consuming ones for the more diligent cooks, and I enjoy their inclusion, too - the pictures and recipes are still interesting to look at, and who knows? Maybe one day I will be up for the challenge! I also appreciate the sturdy, hardcover construction of the book. I'm not the daintiest person in the world, so fragile books are a bit scary for me. This one feels reassuringly solid.

If I am to mention downsides, it would be that the layout can appear slightly messy at times, and the easier recipes are narrated paragraph-style, in which the ingredients are not outlined in a list but are incorporated into the instructions. Some people may not regard this as a problem, but I personally find it easier to make shopping lists and prepare stuff when the ingredients are all tidy and structured. Thankfully, for the recipes with more steps and ingredients, it is still done the way I prefer.

Flipping through the cookbook, the recipe for harira soup caught my eye. Even though it calls for more than a dozen ingredients (if you're familiar with the recipes I develop myself, you know I have a penchant for very brief ingredient requirements), I found it to be pleasingly accessible. This is wonderful, nourishing comfort food - lamb, chickpeas, onions and carrots in a stew of tomatoes, fabulously flavoured with lush tablespoons of spices - paprika, turmeric, cumin, cinnamon. The suggestion in the book is to pair this harira soup with flatbread, but I had it with couscous and it was also lovely. I was so charmed that I made it again soon after my first go, and then, yet again. Definitely regular dinner repertoire material.

Harira soup.

I got lazy for a while, so it took me some time to try another recipe from A Month in Marrakesh, but I finally did, and made the stuffed dates from the dessert section. This is a super straightforward recipe, and the stuffed dates make superb snacks - great for gatherings and parties! Though, in my case, I ate them all by myself, one after another, while watching Four Weddings and a Funeral. That also works.

Basically, you get some dates, make an incision, remove the seeds, and pack in a cooked paste of ground almonds, lemon zest, sugar, water, butter and rose water. I didn't have rose water and didn't want to buy a bottle just to make these, so I used a splash of lemon juice instead - which I know is totally different, but hey, I often love a sharp zing of citrus in my desserts, and it definitely delivered here. I will admit that I was a bit apprehensive when I tasted the almond meal concoction on its own - it was edible, but not quite delectable, as far as I was concerned. But somehow, once the almond paste is married to the dates, some kind of synergistic effect takes hold, and I found these stuffed dates to be rather addictive! So, yeah, I like them enough that I think I will probably make them again. Next time, though, it will be to share with other people, not to devour all on my own!

Stuffed dates.

Anyway, that's my review for A Month in Marrakesh. I am happy with the two recipes I've tried, and hopefully I won't neglect this book too much in the years to come - based on my experience so far, I think it's safe to say that there is yet more deliciousness to discover amongst these pages.

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cookbook review: sri lankan flavours

Sri Lankan Flavours - a cookbook by Channa Dassanayaka.

As I mentioned in my post about my 2016 resolutions, this year, I plan to finally use my neglected cookbooks, and blog about my experience with them. Here's the first installment!

So we have here Sri Lankan Flavours, authored by Channa Dassanayaka, who grew up in Sri Lanka and worked as a chef there until civil unrest in the country prompted a move to Australia. Upon a decision to write a Sri Lankan cookbook, he returned to his home country to immerse himself once more in the culture, and to collect the relevant content. The result is a warm, vibrant cookbook with a wonderfully personal touch. Aside from the typical pictures of dishes that accompany the recipes, there are also photos and narratives that offer a charming glimpse of life in Sri Lanka.

I found the recipes in this cookbook to be quite accessible. Many of the ingredients can be found in a typical well-stocked supermarket in Australia, though you probably still have to make a trip to a reasonably comprehensive Asian grocery store to procure items such as pandan leaves and chickpea flour for certain dishes. However, I have never heard of Maldive fish flakes, which make an appearance in some recipes, but I certainly interested in tracking this down. Then there are some dishes that call for goraka (or gamboge), an ingredient that is also novel to me, and I would love to get my hands on it so that I can try the straightforward yet intriguing recipe for ambulthyial, a traditional southern Sri Lankan fish curry.

The first dish I attempted from Sri Lankan Flavours was the cauliflower, cashew and green pea curry. This easy-to-make vegetarian curry dish combines the vegetables with turmeric, cumin, coriander, curry leaves, onion, garlic and chilli in coconut milk, and it is finished off with a squeeze of lemon juice. The result is mild and pleasant. Channa encourages readers to follow their tastebuds, so I used more spices than indicated, but even so I would still say this is more of a subtle curry, and if you want something with a lot of attitude, go for another curry recipe from the book. This one is splendidly uncomplicated, though, which appeals to my indolent side. I enjoyed the texture of the vegetables and cashews, and I think the curry sauce develops with time, and tastes even better the following day.

Cauliflower, cashew and green pea curry.

I also made wattalappan, a simple pudding concoction of coconut milk, palm sugar and eggs. Spiced with ground cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and cardamom, this baked dessert came out rich and tender, the soft and silky custard juxtaposing delightfully with the crunchy cashews that stud the surface. The recipe states that this can be baked in one large dish or smaller individual dishes, but does not mention whether baking times should be reduced for the latter. I opted to divide the mixture amongst ramekins and did not adjust the time, and the puddings turned out fine, though it is possible that they could be more wobbly. Additionally, I don't have a super-sweet tooth, so I used less sugar than suggested, which worked out well. I was also elated to see that my wattalappan looks even more smooth, delicate and enticing than the picture in the cookbook - at least, I think so! There is no recommendation as to whether this Sri Lankan pudding is to be served hot, warm, or cold, but I chilled it in the fridge before indulging, and found it enjoyable that way.

Wattalappan, a baked custard pudding described as a Sri Lankan version of creme caramel.

I found Sri Lankan Flavours to be an interesting introduction to the world of Sri Lankan cuisine. There were times when it would have been ideal to have more information, as I indicated in regards my undertaking of the wattalappan recipe; however, I haven't encountered anything too daunting, and I can sense that there is an effort by Channa to offer recipes for dishes that are easily attainable for those of us who are new to cooking Sri Lankan food, which I greatly appreciate. The recipes are also written in a way that is approachable for users of either the metric or imperial system, so bonus points for that! All in all, if you're looking for a book that can help you put a nice selection of Sri Lankan dishes on your dining table, it's definitely worth checking out Sri Lankan Flavours.

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happy 2016 + my gardening and cookbook resolutions...

Hello, kangaroo!

As 2016 gives me a gentle nudge, I reflect upon the past year.

2015 was, for me, a year for finding my feet. After the glorious whirlwind travels of 2014, I had to adapt to a new environment in 2015, one that in some ways felt even more foreign than some of the countries I visited outside of Australia. For so many years, I was an inner-city lass who was used to having a tram stop a stone's throw away from my apartment. Now I find myself residing close to the forest - or, as those of us in Australia say, bushland - saying hello to kangaroos and kookaburras.

Hello, kookaburra!

So what lies in store for me in 2016?

I am wary of making New Year's resolutions that don't end up going anywhere, but I have come up with at least a couple that are relevant to this food blog, which are achievable enough that there really is no excuse to not complete them. Feel free to give me a kick or two if it gets close to the end of the year and you still haven't seen any updates on how I'm going with these goals!

This year, I hope to do more gardening, with the aim of growing wholesome, edible things that I can enjoy in my meals. Right now, we have mint, chives, and tomatoes, and I hope to diversify further. Still early days, but I am super excited about the tomatoes at the moment. We bought some tomato plants from the shops, but we also have a few random ones in the garden - shown in this picture - that have just started growing from seeds in buried compost.

So looking forward to picking these tomatoes in the future.

A few years ago, I asked Simon for some cookbooks as birthday presents. Sheepishly, I have to admit that I am yet to try any recipes from these cookbooks. So my plan is to try at least two recipes from each cookbook this year, and blog about them!

Planning to travel the world through the pages of these vibrant cookbooks!

Too easy, right?

What are your plans for 2016? Please feel free to share in the comments section!

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book review: sushi for kids, by kaoru ono

the children's book, sushi for kids, by kaoru ono.

Back in February, my friend Scott had a birthday picnic.

In the invitation he writes...

"Instead of finding something for me, let's make a donation of toys or books to the Royal Children's Hospital / Smith's Family. So if you do feel compelled to bring something, bring a kid's toy / book that you think reflects me or our friendship and we'll make a few kids happy. =)"

I met Scott a long, long time ago, when I was still new to life in Melbourne, Australia, and he was the one to first introduce me to the art of making sushi, and the loveliness of raw fish.

It stands to reason that the gift I chose for the as-yet-unknown young recipient, hopefully an adventurous food lover, is a children's book titled Sushi for Kids, by Tokyo-born author and illustrator Kaoru Ono (translated to English by Peter Howlett and Richard McNamara).

a page from the book.

The story starts with a little boy, Atsushi, enjoying sushi at his grandfather's birthday. Later, he takes a trip to the Tsukiji fish market, learns more about the history of sushi, and finally, how to make sushi. (His pet cat also occasionally makes an appearance - cute, right?)

I learnt quite a few things as I flipped through the pages - for example, I never knew that sushi has its origins as "nare sushi", where fermented rice is used to preserve fish. This combination of rice and fish evolved over time to what we know as sushi today, which is eaten fresh. An interesting fact to me! There are also instructive pages teaching the basic steps to making various sushi - nothing super-comprehensive, but appropriate and sufficient enough for a child who wants to give making sushi a go with the help and supervision of an adult.

sushi-making instructions.

A few final words about the book, for those who may be interesting in procuring their own copy. Not being experienced with kids, I'm not sure for what age range this book is suitable, but I imagine from ages 5 and up could be good - even if they're too young to read the book by themselves, the illustrations could still delight. And if your child likes Japanese food, especially sushi, so much the better!

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cookbook review: ripe

Let's get excited about fruits and vegetables today. Yes!

Late last year, I was lucky enough to win a giveaway at Zo's lovely blog, Two Spoons, the prize being a copy of the vibrantly presented Ripe, a collaborative cookbook by food writer Cheryl Sternman Rule and photographer Paulette Phlipot, which promises "a fresh, colorful approach to fruits and vegetables".

It delivered.

Ripe, a collaborative cookbook by Cheryl Sternman Rule and Paulette Phlipot.

Ripe is an interesting cookbook, with chapters based around colour groupings of fruits and vegetables: red, orange, yellow, green, purple & blue, white. The pages are flush with vivacious hues and wholesome recipes, all vegetarian, a fact that did not cross my mind until much later, so taken in I was by the tome's dazzling good looks.

Cheryl has a charming, conversational style, and I enjoyed reading her notes on each fruit and vegetable, as well as her tips on how to choose or store them. The recipes are all pretty accessible, with some slightly more involved than others, but none are truly terrifyingly complicated.

This is a book for those who are open to adventure. Each fruit and vegetable comes with only one full recipe, which may be a minus for some, but if you take it as an invitation to work your way through as many different fruits and vegetables as possible, it's a positive, which I think is the intention here. Moreover, Cheryl also garnishes each headnote page with a "Simple Uses" passage, giving an additional three recipe ideas - which are basically just ingredient combinations - for the produce. For those who require explicit instructions, this may be a little daunting, but if you're fairly comfortable in the kitchen, it proffers some lovely inspiration.

the introductory page for green beans.

I ended up picking two very simple recipes from the book to try.

The first one was the Green Beans with Smoky Pistachio Dust. It's no secret that I am rather hopelessly in love with smoked paprika. So when I saw the superbly easy recipe for green beans, vegan and gluten-free to boot, I knew it was mine to devour, and devour it I did. It was just as fabulous as I imagined - al dente green beans, just slightly silky with olive oil, encrusted with crumbled-up, smoky paprika-infused pistachio.

I wrote to Cheryl asking for permission to reproduce one of her recipes here, if I may, and she gave me her blessings. Aren't you lucky? I'll just make it a quick one here, with modified quantities and in my own words:

Prepping the green beans:
Boil 300g / 2/3lb green beans in a pot of salted water for a couple minutes or until al dente, drain. Rinse or drench quickly in cold water, then drain again. Transfer to a bowl and drizzle with 1/2 tablespoon olive oil.

Conjuring the smoky pistachio dust, and assembling it all together:
Combine 1/3 cup toasted pistachios, 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika, plus a pinch of salt and pepper. Process or grind into a fine-grained mixture. Adjust seasonings to taste, then scatter and toss through the green beans. Enjoy.

By the way, this smoky pistachio dust is not only fabulous but also versatile - see this post in Cheryl's blog for more ideas.

my very own green beans with smoky pistachio dust!

The recipe for Smashed Cherries, Amaretti and Ricotta also caught my eye with its straightforward simplicity. I had trouble thwacking them as instructed, but pitted and halved them as I usually do and breezily moved on to the other steps. It turned out well - the amaretti cookies, cacao nibs and sweetened ricotta gave tasty contrast to the fresh and juicy cherries. Also? This is totally the kind of dessert I could happily eat for breakfast without guilt.

my very own smashed cherries, amaretti and ricotta!

In conclusion? I think Ripe is a gorgeous, engaging cookbook that would suit someone with an interest in embarking upon a series of fruit and vegetable encounters. And if the recipes I've trialled so far are any indication, those encounters will be very, very delicious indeed.

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a mini-detox? going raw for one day (almost two)!

Green smoothies, green smoothies galore!

I've never been the dieting type. But when Simon's housemate, Georgina, bought Anya Ladra's book, Raw Food Detox, recently, and suggested we embark on a weekend of clean eating with its guidance, I thought it was a fabulous idea.

Raw Food Detox - a cookbook by Anya Ladra of Raw Fairies.

Let's face it, while I like to think I eat healthier than the average person, I know very well that I can do with more fruits and vegetables in my diet. And I realise the concept of a detox is not for everyone, but I thought it would be an interesting experience, and kind of exciting. After all, even if you don't buy into the concept of a cleansing diet, you can still see this as a not-too-extreme experiment that puts more fresh, wholesome food in your body, which surely is a good thing.

Going with a more relaxed approach, we did not truly follow any of the detox programs in the book, but we did try a few recipes, plus some wildcards of our own. Here's a time line of my adventure!

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Friday night:

We have a naughty "last supper" of Sarawak laksa (so good!) and follow up with a very refreshing Melon and Banana smoothie with Parsley, made faithfully according to Anya's recipe to atone for our sins.

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Saturday morning:

I somehow wake up earlier than everyone else in the morning. I have a spicy herbal tea, which is technically not raw, but seems to be embraced as a "good cheat" by many raw foodists, except for the strictest ones.

After everyone awakens, we all enjoy some detox lemonade together (similar to the one from the book, but with mint added). Awhile later, we create our own spinach melon cashew milk smoothie, which is nutty, fruity, and all-round amazing - recipe to come!

Spinach melon cashew smoothie.

Saturday afternoon:

Feeling peckish, I whiz up a Carrot and Lemon juice with Omega-3 oils (I used evening primrose), also from the book, then follow up with a few snacks - a peach, a slice of watermelon, a couple of medjool dates, and a handful of raw hazelnuts. I feel good.

Carrot juice with citrus and good oils.

Saturday evening:

I start to feel sleepy and hazy. Georgina makes us a delicious ceviche - a bit of a cheeky dish outside the realms of Anya's vegan detox book, but hey, at least it's still raw! After eating this, I feel totally rejuvenated - perhaps my previous tiredness was merely a sign of hunger, or a yearning for protein. Brimming with energy, we all go for a walk with the dogs.

Ceviche.

Upon returning from the walk, we threw a few things together to whip up a cacao hazelnut shake. The thoughts are mixed on this one but it is still mostly satisfying.

Later in the night, I graze on celery, then wrap up with more herbal tea, a soothing one this time, to induce a sweet slumber.

Cacao hazelnut shake

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Sunday morning:

I don't plan on being as disciplined today, as I have to work, but I still want to try my best to continue with this health kick, particularly as I feel really bright and alert today (placebo effect or not, it's unusual for a Sunday morning in the office, trust me), which I take as a sign I have been doing something right. I brew myself some rosemary tea for breakfast, then tuck into lovely ceviche leftovers from last night.

Rosemary tea.

Sunday afternoon:

I snack on medjool dates, then quickly pop out to South Melbourne Market, get myself a dozen fresh oysters and a lime, duck back in to the office, and enjoy a scintillating seafood spread at my desk. Oh yeah. Probably shouldn't be eating all these ocean delights if this is to be a proper detox, but hey...

Fresh oysters.

Sunday evening:

After work, I go to Simon's place again, and concoct a green smoothie with watermelon, banana, lime and spinach. I also finally give in to cooked food, baking a comfortingly cheesy frittata for dinner - I will be sharing the recipe for this eventually, too. We also recharge ourselves with a carrot-lemon-celery juice.

Lime-spinach-banana-watermelon smoothie.

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Conclusions:

This self-structured mini raw detox has been a really excellent experience for me. I would be keen to do this again, and I want to find a way to incorporate more raw, fresh produce, especially vegetables, in a practical manner to my everyday life.

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Aftermath:

Inspired by my detox weekend, I've started blending fruit and vegetable juices/smoothies in the morning for breakfast, and I hope this shall become a habit. They really seem to wake me up and invigorate me for the day ahead, so that should be enough incentive to spur me on.

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Have you ever gone on a "detox" or a similar challenge to eat and drink only clean / raw / wholesome / minimally or non-processed foods? I'd love to hear about it!

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cookbook review: vietnamese street food

For my birthday last year, I received a bunch of cookbooks from a Hardie Grant sale (thanks Simon!), and as befitting my nature, I've had fun reading them but have barely taken the time to follow any of the recipes.

They are interesting books, though, so today we'll talk about Vietnamese Street Food by Tracey Lister and Andreas Pohl, which is a very pleasant cookbook to look at. Spacious layout, attractive design, easy-to-read font, approachable photos.

Vietnamese Street Food, a cookbook by Tracey Lister and Andreas Pohl.

As is evident from the title, the subject is that of street cuisine in Vietnam. It is a stimulating mix - with some inclusions that are not typically served in the Vietnamese restaurants in Australia, such as duck rice porridge and eel salad, to name a couple. Some recipes call for more exotic ingredients that I imagine I would have difficulty procuring in Australia - green rice or frog's legs, for example; and I feel that in some cases, additional photos or clarification would've been helpful. But for the most part, I've found the recipes to look quite user-friendly - mind you, I do have an Asian background, which probably helps. I also like the handy reference pages on sauces and condiments - simple, basic recipes which form the luscious notes to so many Vietnamese dishes.

So far, I've tried two recipes from the book - one savoury, and one sweet. Both were easy, which, let's face it, is always a draw card for lazy ol' me.

Earlier this year, I tried the ca kho to - caramel fish with galangal. I knew from the moment I saw the photo that I wanted to try this. The beautiful, burnished caramel sauce looked simply amazing.

Ca kho to, caramel fish with galangal, as seen in the cookbook Vietnamese Street Food.

I have mixed feelings about the results, however. It was very tasty (reminiscent of a lighter version of Thai green curry, we thought), but it wasn't quite what I was expecting. The coconut milk called for in the recipe muted the intense caramelised flavour and appearance it might otherwise have had, and further research (i.e. looking up other ca kho to recipes online) suggests that, most likely, the recipe should've called for coconut water instead. I might try that next time.

A questionable ca kho to, as attempted with the recipe from the cookbook, Vietnamese Street Food.

Then, a few weeks ago, I tried out the tao pho - silken tofu in ginger syrup. This is a type of dessert I'm familiar with, as they are commonly sold in Malaysian markets and growing up I would often have them as a sweet breakfast on the weekends. The version in the book has an interesting difference, though - the addition of mandarin juice and jasmine flowers.

Tao pho, silken tofu in ginger syrup, as seen in the Vietnamese Street Food cookbook.

This imparts a fruity, floral dimension to the dessert, and a pretty fragrance. I did play with the recipe a little. Not having much of a sweet tooth, I greatly reduced the amount of sugar. I couldn't find jasmine flowers, either, so I substituted some good quality jasmine green tea instead. Not quite the same, but close enough. The end result was simple, comforting, and delicious.

A successfully adapted Vietnamese-style tao pho - silken tofu in ginger syrup, scented with mandarin and jasmine.

Despite the hiccup with the ca kho to, and a lack of a more comprehensive glossary to explain the ingredients that are not-so-familiar in the Western world, I have to say that I do still like Vietnamese Street Food as a cookbook. There's a leisurely, comfortable quality to it, with the recipe headnotes giving you happy ideas of what it would be like to live and eat in Vietnam. As someone with a keen curiosity towards regional cuisine, it's just the sort I enjoy flipping through, daydreaming about how good each dish would be. When I get around to it, I'll be trying more of the recipes - perhaps some of the more well-known Vietnamese favourites, like the pho, the spring rolls, and the banh mi... but you know, the barbecued pork and the fried rice cakes with egg are also calling out to me. We'll see!

You may purchase Vietnamese Street Food on Fishpond and also on Amazon.

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books for cooks, fitzroy

Cheery foodie decor at Books for Cooks on Gertrude St, Fitzroy.

Books for Cooks (233-235 Gertrude Street, Fitzroy) is a little gem of a specialist bookshop I stumbled upon recently whilst doing a late-night Google search for cookbooks in Melbourne. A store that sells nothing but books on food! What a wonderful concept. I visited the very next day...

Books for Cooks - a down-to-earth and warmly inviting space.

I adored the place immediately: on a cold winter's day, it embraced me like a warm hug, with its wooden floorboards, well-worn couches, and, of course, the books. The floor-to-ceiling shelves of books. Books on regional cuisine. Books on baking. Books on the art and science of cooking. Books on restaurants. Books on wine. Books, books, books... books full of words, pictures and recipes... all stuffed together in one cosy bookshop and jostling to delight a food-loving girl like me.

I loved perusing the cookbooks in the South American section.

I'd only just bought two books I really wanted a week prior to this visit, so I satisfied myself with merely a leisurely browse before sinking into the big couch by the window for a little rest and relaxation. Most conveniently, there was a shelf of books on South American cuisine just beside me - what a treat! I flipped through a few before going on my merry way, feeling a renewed sense of enthusiasm towards the cooking I planned to do later that day, and making a mental note to return to this lovely cushy cookbook haven the next time I want to buy a little piece of food inspiration...

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