egg, shallot & samphire salad with smoky lemon dressing

The slender, knobbly green fingers beckoned.

"Try us," they beseech. "You've never tried us before."

It's true, I hadn't. Oh, I knew of samphire, of course. I've heard about the languid foraging excursions undertaken by intrepid food-lovers; I've spied them on the slickly written menus in expensive restaurants. But they were so quaint and far removed from my regular life that for all I was concerned they could be a made-up ingredient from a fairy tale.

marsh samphire, also known as sea asparagus.

It turns out they are quite real, and I have finally met them in the flesh. The label on the packet instructs, slightly awkwardly: "This unique vegetable, to be used steamed. Yummy in stir-fries or blanched and used as a bed under seafood."

I broke off a small piece and ate it raw, to give myself an inkling of what I was getting into. So what did it taste like? Imagine a crunchy, hollow vegetable shaped like a spindly, rugged drinking straw that's absolutely zonked out on sea water, and that's pretty much what marsh samphire is. Given how briny it was, I decided to boil it, hoping to strip away some of the excess salt. This seemed to help a little, but it was still very salty, and I can see that this is one ingredient that could require a nifty balancing act.

So this is what I did, based on what I already have at home. I boiled four eggs until their yolks were just set, then peeled and sliced them, rejoicing at their creamy, vibrant orange goodness. For the dressing, I sloshed together some lemon juice with extra virgin olive oil, swirled through a sexy dose of smoked Spanish paprika, and then, spying a shallot on the counter, chopped that up, too, and flung it in. It's tangy, it's smoky, it's savoury - what's not to love?

These joined forces proved to be a good match for the samphire. The tart and spicy dressing tamed the excessive saltiness, and the eggs, in their simplicity, were calm and gentle amongst the veritable ocean of flavours. I would definitely make this again.

egg, shallot & samphire salad with a spicy, smoky, tangy lemon dressing.

egg, shallot & samphire salad with smoky lemon dressing
(makes 2 light serves)

50g marsh samphire / sea asparagus
1 shallot, finely chopped
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon Spanish hot smoked paprika (Pimenton de la Vera, Picante)*
4 large medium-boiled or hard-boiled eggs, sliced

Trim and discard the tough, fibrous stems near the root end of the samphire stalks. Roughly snip the samphire into shorter sections to make them more manageable when eating.
Bring a pot of water to boil, then throw in the samphire and let it cook for 2 - 3 minutes. Drain, then lightly rinse the samphire with cold water.
Mix shallot, extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice and Spanish hot smoked paprika to create a dressing.
Toss the samphire with half the dressing, then top with egg slices and drizzle with remaining dressing. No need to add salt!

You can have this salad for breakfast or brunch with some buttered toast - if you like, you can tear the toast into pieces and scatter them through the salad. This would work very, very well indeed. Alternatively, you could also serve it with any meal as a punchy little side dish.

*Pimenton de la Vera aka Spanish smoked paprika can usually be found at specialty and gourmet food stores, spice shops, or Spanish grocery stores. In lieu of the hot (Picante) version, you may use the mild, sweet version (Dulce) or medium, bittersweet version (Agridulce).

P.S. I love the dressing in this dish. It flavours the eggs beautifully, and if you don't have samphire, feel free to improvise with other vegetables - I imagine green beans, broccolini or asparagus would work well. The only difference is that you will probably want to season with a pinch of salt if using these substitutes.

I purchased my samphire from The Vegetable Connection in Fitzroy. The samphire is packaged by Outback Pride (please see their site for a list of other stockists in Australia). Note - they seem to pop up in the shops quite sporadically, so get ready to pounce if/when you see them!

egg, shallot & samphire salad with lemon, hot smoked paprika and extra virgin olive oil.

Click here to read the rest of the post!

phat brats, fitzroy

I live south of the river, Simon the north. Neither of us own a car.

I'm usually the one tramming it to his place, and whilst it can sometimes be a bit of a chore, I don't mind too much. Let's face it, life can be exciting when you're seeing someone who lives in the vicinity of Brunswick Street. Exciting in an "oh my dog where shall I eat tonight?!" kind of way.

Phat Brats (320 Brunswick St, Fitzroy) is a new kid in town and I remember anticipating its opening when I first observed the sign on the window earlier this year. With a chain-store-like appearance, albeit one that is sleek and dark, Phat Brats, unsurprisingly, is all about the hot dogs and fries. Snazzy gourmet combinations are rife, with vegetarian dog options (pumpkin, ricotta, & tarragon, or bean, lentil & veggie) if you're not into meat. The buns come in classic, seeded and gluten-free. The fries are beer-battered and are available with house-made seasoning, cheese or chilli. 

I like how the Phat Brats boys strive for natural, wholesome ingredients and source them locally. I also like how the hot dogs come sliced neatly in half - perfect for sharing! But what I really, really love is their fries. I've been there twice now, and if you want a summary of my experiences, it's this: the hot dogs may be what initially attracted me to Phat Brats, but it's probably their fries that will keep me coming back.

Now that we've got that out of the way, let's move on to the individual items we've sampled.

Simon the sauerkraut lover quickly decided upon the beer-soaked bratwurst on our first visit. We both agreed that it was a decent dog, if not particularly memorable.

local beer soaked brat sausage with sauteed onions, sauerkraut, bavarian mustard and green pickle relish, $8.90.

The wagyu beef and black pepper wasn't as juicy and fatty as I would expect from a wagyu-based sausage, but I did like the crowning touch of crispy shallots, and the horseradish cream was lovely, though I think Simon got more of that on his half, while mine was a little lacking. So unfair!

wagyu beef and black pepper sausage with house gravy, raw slaw, crisp shallots and horseradish cream, $8.90.

But all is forgiven when I tried the chilli fries. "Wow, these fries are really good," I say to Simon as I shovel them down. Ruggedly crisp and fluffy, they were a textural triumph. The chilli sauce was pretty spicy, but I like the heat. Simon, however, claims that he is not the biggest fan of fries with chilli - hurrah, more for me!

chilli fries (comes with either spicy ground beef or spicy bean mix), $7.

We visited again a few weeks later with our friend Georgina. She went for the cheesy smoked kransky, and it was the first to arrive at the table. Compared to the other dogs we'd observed, this one was HUGE. The potato salad topping also made it quite fiddly to eat, but from all accounts she found it satisfying.

cheesy smoked kransky sausage with german potato salad, dill pickles and bavarian mustard, $8.90.

The spicy chorizo was up next. The pairing of beans and sour cream made this snag feel more Mexican than Spanish, but I'm cool with that. It's hard to go wrong with that punchy arrangement.

spicy spanish pork sausage with pinto beans, shredded lettuce, sour cream, jalapenos and house tomato sauce, $8.90.

The pork and sage is quite possibly our favourite out of all the ones we've tried so far. I'm not convinced by the airy, flaxen crackling - I usually go for the dark and handsome kind - but overall, with the salad and aioli, this was a beguilingly fresh and sophisticated dog with a gentle disposition. Totally the sort you'd take home to meet your parents.

pork and sage sausage with braised apple and red cabbage, shaved fennel, pork crackling and aioli, $8.90.

Last but not least, cheesy fries. The fries were just as good as they were the last time, again with that moreish bite - and the sultry bechamel sauce made this a winner all around, so I had to make sure that Simon doesn't steal more than his share. Though you can't really blame him if he tried.

cheesy fries, $6.

Considering how conveniently located they are for us, I think I can safely say that there will most definitely be a third visit to Phat Brats - I've got my eye on the chicken and thyme snag, and the po' boy. Plus more of those fries, of course.



Click here to read the rest of the post!

live below the line: how i ate on AU $2 a day

From May 7th - 11th this year, thousands of people from around the world will be getting a tiny glimpse of what it means to live on the poverty line when they partake in the Live Below the Line challenge.

From the Live Below the Line website:

"Close to a quarter of the world's population lives below the extreme poverty line, which means they have just AU$2 a day or less to cover all their daily expenses - housing, education, health, transport and food.
Surviving on such a tiny amount, almost all their income must be spent on food. Even then, they can generally only afford two basic meals a day.
They have little to no money left for the other necessities of life - and if anything ever goes wrong they have no safety net to rely on. They are often the victims of broken systems: lacking access to the education, services and the job opportunities they need to break the cycle of poverty.

Live Below the Line seeks to combat extreme poverty in two distinct ways: raising funds for educational opportunities in the developing world, and creating widespread awareness of this important issue (HINT: conversations are the key!)."

I've always thought I was pretty frugal. But having a skimpy AU$10 to spend on food for 5 days? That's a big challenge. One I wasn't sure I could meet.

I decided to give it an early go, last week, and I am glad to say that I have emerged triumphant. Yes, it's possible. No, it's not easy. Yes, I now appreciate what I have, more than ever... and I hope this post will go a little way towards contributing to the cause and the conversation.

A Golden Delicious apple. With its droopy stem, it almost seems as if this apple sympathises with my plight.

First things first. This is a food blog, after all, and I'll bet you want to know what I ate over those 5 days, and how I suffered. (Yes you do, you schadenfreudenistic ol' pal, you!)

The key is to plan ahead. Fortunately, I shop for food often, so I have a list of usual suspects, in terms of the type of things I can usually get cheaply, and when and where to get them.

I knew this was going to be a big week for carbohydrates - pasta or rice was definitely on the table. Another aim was to get some cheap protein, either tofu, canned sardines, eggs or offal. I also thought about lentils or chickpeas, and I hoped to have enough left over to squeeze in some fruits and green vegetables.

Markets tend to go crazy in the half an hour leading up to closing time, especially on the weekends. Sometimes you can get great value on staples in ethnic grocery stores. The big supermarkets will occasionally turn up with a decent discount.

One way of looking at this is to think about how many calories/kilojoules you need to keep you going for 5 days, and what you can buy with your money to get close to that figure. You want something that will fill you up, and hopefully be reasonably nutritious too.

So draft out a tentative meal plan before the challenge, but be prepared to be flexible, and keep an eye out for good deals. Once you get your ingredients, draft out a properly adjusted meal plan. I spent most of my money during the days leading up to the actual event, but had a couple of dollars reserved, which I was very glad to have for the wriggle room it provided. I spent most of that towards the end of my challenge, and even managed to splurge on ice cream and chocolate! Guilty glee!


What I bought:

I sourced most of my fresh produce from South Melbourne Market, and dried staples from Cato in Prahran. If I'd been organised enough, I would've also made a trip to Aldi and Queen Victoria Market, where I suspect I would've gotten more bang for my buck. I got my condiments from Japanese grocery Fujimart in South Yarra, where I was lucky enough to find heavily discounted individual miso sachets.

I did this on my own, but if you can get someone to participate in the challenge with you, you get to pool your money and share the bounty, which means more buying power, and better variety.

Oh, and one more thing. If you're not at home most of the time, get used to preparing your food well in advance, then packing it and bringing it with you. Don't want to sit down at work only to realise you forgot your lunchbox! (Luckily, that never happened to me. Phew.)

But enough talk. Here's what I got for those 5 days, in the order of how much they cost.

500g chicken livers = $2.25
1 bag apples = $1
1 bag potatoes = $1
500g pasta = $1
200g dried chickpeas = $1
1 bag carrots = $0.80
1 head broccoli = $0.70
1 packet spicy Korean instant noodles = $0.55
1 stash chocolate = $0.50
1 McDonald's soft serve ice cream cone = $0.30
4 sachets miso @ $0.05 each = $0.20
1 sachet soy sauce = $0.10

Grand total = $9.40

That macaroni-like pasta is paternosti lisci, and it works well in soups.

How I did:

On Sunday night (the day before I started my challenge), I cooked up a big batch of miso pasta stew/soup with the potatoes, carrots and chicken liver, and this formed my main meals for most of the challenge. Whenever I ate this, I was confronted with an odd mix of emotions. Jaded resignation as I faced the same dish again - and yet - anticipatory joy, as this was carefully rationed food that would finally stave off the increasing spectre of hunger.

I was grateful for my apples - I had eight large ones, and I'd have one for breakfast, and sometimes one later in the afternoon or evening as a snack. Crisp, fresh, and tangy, they were just what I needed to break up the monotony of the never-ending pasta soup.

I had boiled chickpeas for brunch a couple of times. They were reasonably filling, though a touch of salt would've been nice.

I found the challenge most daunting on the first day. In fact, I caved in that night and treated myself to an ice cream cone from McDonald's for 30 cents! I adapted to my new routine and expectations soon enough, though, and found the subsequent days somewhat easier to take in stride.

I didn't really socialise much during the challenge, but on Thursday, we had a birthday celebration in the office for a colleague, and I had to forgo cake. (I did sneakily save a slice so I could indulge after I finished the challenge, though...)

On my last day, I got something different for dinner. I had finally ran out of pasta, so I enjoyed spicy noodles with broccoli, plus chocolate for dessert, all of which I bought with some of the leftover money I had. The broccoli gave me as much pleasure as the chocolate, as I had so missed having green vegetables. Hurrah!

And then - I looked forward to midnight, to the dawn of a new day, when everything would return to normal. The occasional snack. The occasional takeaway. The abundance and the variety. All the everyday indulgences I took for granted. The whole world opened up with possibilities again.

For me, at least.

For others, this is their normal, and for them, there is no end in sight. It is a sobering thought, and one that I hope to never take lightly, in the days to come.

For more information on the Live Below the Line challenge (which will run in United States, United Kingdom, Australia and New Zealand), or to donate to the cause, please go to the Live Below the Line website here. I can't stomach the idea of doing this all over again for the official challenge, but if you would like to sponsor one of my food blogger friends, fatboo and winceee, that would be great! (Sponsor links now removed as they are no longer valid.)

If you want a breakdown on where the money goes, see here.

Click here to read the rest of the post!

jiro dreams of sushi

A ten-seat sushi restaurant tucked away in a Tokyo subway station. An elderly sushi chef obsessed with his craft. A three-Michelin-star rating.

It's enough to make anyone dream of booking the trip and shelling out the 30,000+ yen for the omakase of their life.

Jiro Ono, the man himself. Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.

If you have a love for the refined art of Japanese food, Jiro Dreams of Sushi is one documentary that will tug at your tummy-strings.

But the movie is more than just a series of mouthwatering sequences involving raw fish and vinegared rice.

This is the story of a man who, well into his 80s, eschews retirement in favour of a lifelong journey towards perfection at his world-renowned restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro. It is the story of a chef's dedication to his work, and, along the way, a glimpse of a father's relationship with his sons.

A big hunk of fresh tuna. Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.

Director David Gelb infuses Jiro Dreams of Sushi with a fittingly reverie-like quality; and the lilting beauty of the Philip Glass score is one that sings to the heart.

In the end, though, the indelible mark left in my mind - the one that almost sends chills down my spine - is Jiro's unwavering, enduring joy in what he does: "I feel ecstatic all day... I love making sushi."

After all these years.

Jiro's sushi. Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.

Click here to read the rest of the post!

french fantasies, south yarra

Sometimes life gets in the way of the things you would like to do more often.

Sometimes you let life get in the way of the things you would like to do more often.

One of these things, for me, is a visit to French Fantasies (15 Toorak Road, South Yarra).

A few years ago, my office was a mere 10-minute walk away from French Fantasies. I'd finish up work, and every now and then, on my way home, I'd pop by French Fantasies for a little piece of my own French fantasy... usually - alright, pretty much always - a blissful slice of their baked cheesecake.

My office has since relocated, and along with it, my rituals changed. I now take the tram home instead of walking. I look wistfully at their shopfront as the tram trundles by, my desire to just get home as quickly as possible after a long day flicking aside that little glimmer of yearning in my heart.

Like an old flame re-ignited, however, I've recently started to make time for French Fantasies again.

Like an old flame, there are still new things to discover.

A few weeks ago I bought a takeaway pie for lunch... a lamb and vegetable pie. I've never tried their pies, and I wasn't expecting much. It had a blushing, golden appearance, but so do most pies. When I dug into it, however, it became clear that this was not the typical takeaway pie. The crust was light and flaky. The filling was a slow-cooked lamb stew, strewn with homely chunks of carrots. onions, and the crimson hue of disintegrated tomatoes. This is a pie made with love.

Lamb and vegetable pie from French Fantasies.

Like an old flame, there are old memories to re-discover, too.

A few days ago I brought home a slice of my old friend, the baked cheesecake.

Soft and creamy. Dense with the taste of milk fat that slowly melts in the mouth. Just like I remember.

Baked cheesecake from French Fantasies.

French Fantasies doesn't always live up to their promise, however. Their chicken curry pie, while pleasant enough, lacked the sigh-worthy charm of the lamb one I had. And I will always, always remember how deliriously divine my first French Fantasies cheese twist was - an explosion of ethereal, gooey warmth - but subsequent purchases have fallen short, a pale shadow of their predecessor. Perhaps I need to be there at the right time - when those babies are still fresh from the oven.

Nevertheless, these recent visits have reminded me again of my appreciation for French Fantasies. I'm planning to try their beef bourguignon pie next, and the tarte au citron.

And I won't let life get in the way.



Click here to read the rest of the post!

spicy eggplant fettuccine, a twist on aglio e olio; aka sichuan meets abruzzo

Spicy eggplant fettuccine, a twist on spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoncino.

One of the first meals I learnt how to make from a cookbook was spaghetti aglio e olio.

I was eighteen when I left Malaysia to pursue a university degree in Australia. My sister and I rented a unit together. Our repertoire of dishes was limited back then, and truth be told, my knowledge of Western cuisine didn't go much beyond a simple grilled salmon with salt and lemon, and - shock, horror - assorted meals composed from packet mixes and jarred sauces from the supermarket shelves. (Mind you, they weren't all bad!)

But one day, my sister received a cookbook from my aunt - one that, in retrospect, encouraged our first baby steps in Western cooking. When I flipped through the pages, it was an easy pasta recipe that caught my eye. Spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoncino. Ingredients: spaghetti, olive oil, garlic, chilli, salt and pepper.

Enticed by its simplicity, I made my first spaghetti aglio e olio. It was a revelation in the strength and beauty of basic ingredients, and I've made it many times since.

Eggplants from my aunt's garden, sliced, in a bath of lightly salted water.

Now, many years later, I rarely rely on cookbooks, and most of my meals are either the tried-and-true, or on-a-whim creations. Today's recipe is a blend of both. That old Italian favourite, given a new twist with classic ingredients from my Chinese upbringing... a hot and tingling eggplant fettucine, where Sichuan meets Abruzzo.

The use of peanut oil gives this a heavier character than olive oil in the original aglio e olio recipe, but also a fragrant nutty quality. The skin of the eggplants crunch up a little when fried, while the flesh almost liquefies. The pungence of the garlic, paired with the numbing heat of the peppercorns and chillies, keeps the tastebuds on the edge. I threw in the garlic chives almost as an afterthought - I have the plant growing in a pot on my windowsill these days, courtesy of my parents from their most recent visit - and they turned out to be the perfect crowning touch of piquant green goodness.

So here you have it, my playful translation of West to East.

Dried Sichuan peppercorns and chillies.

sichuan-inspired spicy eggplant pasta (serves 1)

2 tablespoons peanut oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon Sichuan peppercorns
4 dried chillies, chopped
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 serve of pasta (approx. 200g fresh or 125g dried. I recommend fettuccine, linguine, or spaghetti)
4 baby eggplants (approx. 200g)
2 tablespoons chopped garlic chives
Chinese light soy sauce, roasted sesame oil and black vinegar, to taste

Warm up the peanut oil over low heat. Add garlic, Sichuan peppercorns and dried chillies. Gently fry, taking care that they do not burn, for 2 minutes or until the oil takes on a rosy hue, and before the ingredients turn black. Stir in the salt, set aside to cool slightly, then strain.

Slice eggplants lengthwise into quarters, soaking them in lightly salted water as you do so to keep them bright and fresh. Retrieve and squeeze out excess water before frying.

Boil your pasta in a pot of salted water according to packet or vendor instructions until al dente. (Times will vary depending on whether you are using fresh or dried pasta.) When the pasta is cooked, drain in a colander (but reserve a little of the pasta water).

While you are waiting for the pasta to cook, return the spicy infused oil to a pan over high heat. When the oil is hot, throw in the eggplant strips and let them fry for 1 minute, then turn them and fry for another minute. Retrieve eggplant and set aside so that it does not continue to soak in the oil.

Toss together the cooked pasta, eggplant, infused oil and fresh garlic chives. Add Chinese light soy sauce, roasted sesame oil, and black vinegar to taste, if desired. If the mixture is too dry, add a little of the reserved pasta water to loosen it up.

Tuck in and bask in its greasy glory. A refreshing salad on the side wouldn't go astray!

Notes/Variations:
To make this dish vegan, make sure you use an eggless pasta.
To make this dish gluten-free, use gluten-free pasta or rice noodles.

Spicy eggplant fettucine - when Sichuan meets Abruzzo.

Click here to read the rest of the post!

a lime & fig compote... an existential crisis

I was having a bit of an existential crisis the other day.

You know, the sort where you know you're not getting any younger, and you feel like you haven't accomplished much.

The sort where you look back at the dreams you had, and how you fell short.

Despondent, I asked Simon what he thought made a successful life. "Enjoying it," he said simply.

Therein lies our differences. I have an ego, a hunger for approval, a slightly competitive streak, and yet I've never been able to stay passionate long enough to be exceptional at anything, invariably resulting in a self-flagellating sense of failure. He, on the other hand, is unburdened by the weight of covetous aspirations, and finds it almost bewildering.

Sometimes I feel so influenced by the world external to me that I no longer know what it is that I really want. What it is that will really make me happy. I wish, wistfully, for grand accomplishments, but I'm beginning to realise what I really need is to be at peace with myself.

sweet and sour... lime and fig compote.

So that brings us to this lime and fig compote. Basic techniques. Uncomplicated flavours. Stack it on some freshly toasted bread, and eat it while it's still blissfully warm. Not really a huge achievement, making this. And yet, in that quiet, fleeting moment, I found it unassumingly sublime. The rest didn't matter.

lime & fig compote

300g ripe figs (approximately 6 - 7 medium-sized figs, or 2/3 lb)
3 tablespoons raw sugar
1 tablespoon lime juice
1 teaspoon lime zest (optional)

Trim off the hard stems of the figs and discard. Slice the figs into eighths. I do this by vertically slicing them into quarters, then horizontally halving the quarters.
Simmer the chopped figs with the rest of the ingredients in a saucepan for 15 - 20 minutes until the figs are soft and the juices are reduced. I like to turn up the heat towards the last few minutes, partly to hasten the process, and partly to introduce a lovely thick hint of caramelisation.

If you're going for a compote that goes with some bread, as I was, aim for a final result that is moist and plump, but free from excess liquids. You want a compote that is dry enough to sit pretty on toast, yet still succulent enough so that the fleshy, almost jelly-like fig pieces burst with juices as you bite into them.

So serve this while it's still comfortingly warm, on slices of freshly toasted bread, and congratulate yourself on this little triumph: one of the many you can celebrate amidst the ups and downs of life.

lime and fig compote on toasted pane di casa.

Click here to read the rest of the post!

Back of House: The World by Jeff Martin, at Gould Galleries

The line cooks are hunched over their masterpieces. Constructing, arranging, refining. A waiter floats by, balancing a perfect three-plate carry. The air is thick with exquisite concentration.

I am in one of the world's most famous and prestigious commercial kitchens. The kitchen of Noma, Copenhagen.

Okay, I wish. I'm actually gazing upon a magnificent 150 x 180 cm oil-on-linen painting of Noma's kitchen, created by Jeff Martin for his latest Back of House exhibition.

Noma, 2011; Jeff Martin, Back of House - The World. Picture used with permission of Gould Galleries.

Jeff Martin's Back of House series began in 2007 with his portrayals of Melbourne's well-heralded local institutions - amongst those, Abla's, Flower Drum, and Jacques Reymond, to mention a few.

This was followed by a Sydney sequel, with Aria, Tetsuya's and Guillaume at Bennelong headlining another impressive list of big names.

And now we have Back of House - The World, which transports us to the kitchens of the calibre of Noma, Le Chateaubriand, and French Laundry.

The typical commercial kitchen tends to be sterile in colour - think lots of silvery-grays - but vibrant in atmosphere, individual quirks emphasized by the people who work within. It is invariably busy. There is always something to be done - quickly, carefully, perfectly. It is a place fraught with tension; overflowing with expression. And I can see it all in the Back of House paintings (a favourite is the one of Oud Sluis in Holland - sleek, but flush with character). You may notice - as I did - that the plates and pans are all blank; yet somehow, it feels right. It's not about the food here. It's about the space where the food is made. It's about those who give it their best behind the scenes. And it looks so very grand indeed when you're standing right there, taking it in.

Oud Sluis, 2011; Jeff Martin, Back of House - The World. Picture used with permission of Gould Galleries.

The images here are a teaser, and do not do justice to the actual paintings in all their glory. For real impact, go for a stroll in the gallery before the entire exhibition is flown off to London for the San Pellegrino The World's 50 Best Restaurants Awards. The Melbourne Food & Wine Festival may be over, but Back of House - The World by Jeff Martin is still exhibiting at Gould Galleries until the 10th of April. It's not a huge one (19 works in total), but well worth dropping by if you're an art lover, or if you happen to be in the neighbourhood.

What: Jeff Martin, Back of House - The World.
Where: Gould Galleries, 270 Toorak Road, South Yarra, 3141 Victoria, Australia.
When: 1st March 2012 - 10th April 2012 (extended from original end date March 31st).
Pricing: Free Entry. Price of works range from $1,600 to $13,500.

Five Copper Pots, 2011; Jeff Martin, Back of House - The World. Picture used with permission of Gould Galleries.

Click here to read the rest of the post!