doctortim

If I'm planning on cooking with marrow I just ask my butcher a few days in advance for "marrow bone".

On Monday I made Tuna Mornay. This was Lucy's special request, and I must say it turned out rather well. Tuesday I decided to try once more to make filled pasta. My past attempts have met with mixed success, but they've all been equally as frustrating. I love making fresh fettucini, but with all of the great family-owned italian deli's around here selling home-made filled pasta I rarely make it myself. I made prawn ravioli in a lemon-butter-cream-dill sauce. The filling itself was a little plain, but the sauce was perfect and cooking the pasta in prawn stock made a huge difference. On Wednesday I used up the rest of Sunday night's bolognese to make lasagne. Good stuff. Today my favourite butcher had a sale on the most beautiful organic chickens, so on an impulse I bought one and roasted it. I'd skipped lunch, so I enjoyed the first warm, juicy cuts of breast meat on fresh bread as my late-afternoon snack.

I'd agree that the ability to improvise well is what takes an amateur cook to the next level -- both in terms of the skill and experience it requires but also simply in impressing people. After a reasonably short time in the kitchen, it's possible to approach most recipes without being intimidated. The recipe might say to sauté a diced onion for 5 minutes until lightly golden, but you know enough to look at the pan and give them another 5... that sort of thing. Most people who are interested in cooking (rather than just cooking to get by) can do this, and improvise a bit around the recipes and the combinations they know. To improvise a great meal from an unplanned selection of ingredients is more difficult. Of course whether it's truly improvisation or not is debatable -- I would argue it's still just experimenting with things you've seen or made before, only with a few more years under your belt and more experiences and combinations to draw on.

I'm afraid I may not be much good for a recipe as I didn't pay attention to the amounts I was using. Nevertheless: Since carbonara is all about eggs, I made sure to use good-quality, fresh, free range eggs in both the pasta itself and the sauce. First I cooked some pancetta slowly in its own fat, and while that was going I combined 3-4 eggs, some salt, and a good helping of freshly cracked pepper. One of my guests thought he would be helpful and add cream. I don't normally use cream and stopped him, but he'd already put in about 1/4 cup. Once the pan with the pancetta had cooled, I poured in the egg mixture. Then I grated a handful of pecorino over the top. Once the pasta was done (freshly-made pasta, which helped a lot), I scooped it directly out of the pot and onto the egg mixture, then kept stirring that over a very lot heat until it was the consistency I wanted. When you're combining it all you've gotta keep an eye on it. If it looks like its overcooking, lift the pan off the heat and keep stirring to cool it down. Carbonara can be made very quickly, but if it needs additional heat, then the slower you heat it the less likely you are to irreversibly overcook the eggs. Although the cream was accidental and not authentic, it was only a little and the final product didn't taste like it had cream in it. Some people feel that just eggs can make it over-the-top heavy, but if that's a problem then just thin it out with some of the pasta's cooking water. I hope that helps. Not to get all wanky, but I see carbonara as more of a technique to practise than a sauce you can learn from a recipe. Start by keeping it simple with just the eggs, cheese, bacon, and pepper. Personally I think if you can get just those to come together it can taste amazing, but if you like other additions (garlic, mushrooms, I've even seen spinach) try them after you've got the basics down.

The last two times I've been to the markets (visiting most of the different butchers) searching for hanger steak I've been met with little more than blank stares. At best one butcher said she thinks what I'm referring to is the tail end of the tenderloin, and at worst one butcher looked at his mate and laughed, saying "do you know what he's talking about?" Part of the problem is butcher shops employing non-butchers, but even when I've spoken to the guys who place orders or the butchers working there, they've got no idea what I'm talking about. I've tried referring to it by the different names I've seen it called online (onglet, butcher's steak, etc.). Obviously the hanger steak from each animal is going somewhere, and I shudder to think that it's simply being discarded or ground up. Now I've got a few more butchers to try, but can anyone help me out here? What should I be calling it?

I doubt that our diners had any idea of how close things came to disaster last night, but amidst chaos in the kitchen we managed to turn out a very tasty dinner. We made some fresh fettucini and gnocchi, then served them in three courses: - Fettucini with pesto & sundried tomatoes. - Gnocchi with tomato & basil sauce. - Fettucini carbonara. The first two were good, but the carbonara was the best carbonara I've made and really took it to the next level. For dessert I made a lime & ginger tart, basically improvising it using Thomas Keller's savoury quiche recipe as a rough guide. It turned out surprisingly well! Thinking back, every part of this meal relied on eggs, but in such different ways. I'll never cease to be amazed by how versatile they are.

The other night I made good old macaroni cheese, this time trying out a Delia Smith technique. Essentially it's macaroni cheese as per normal, only with 2 egg whites whisked and folded in before baking. While I wasn't 100% pleased with the results (following her instructions, some of the egg overcooked and took away from the creaminess of the macaroni), I plan to experiment further with using egg, next time at a lower temperature. Here's a shot of Sunday's meal. It was originally intended to be Mother's Day lunch, but with other family members running late it became a late lunch/early dinner. Mashed potato, barbecued beef loin (at Mum's request, just under well done. Oh well, it was was Mother's Day after all), gravy, and a sweet potato, castello, and toasted walnut pasta salad. For dessert sis made a pavlova with pineapple, but that went far too quickly to get a shot of. Great company, great food -- all up it was one of the best meals I've had in a long time!

Inspired by this thread, I made pork confit for the first time today. It was a bit of an adventure all round -- confit-ing the pork was simple enough, but notably this was the first time I've ever attempted to render fat before. It was messy, but worth it. The confit itself was fantastic. The flavour was wonderful, but the sensation of the fat melting instantly from the tender meat is something else. Kent is right, it's extremely rich and a little goes a long way. I'm currently thinking of the many ways I can use it before I die of a heart attack at 30 years of age. (I did take a picture of the pork immersed in oil before I put it in the fridge, but frankly the torn pork looked like the view from an arthroscopy)

I'll never again look away when I'm removing a dish from under the broiler. I still might be a few attempts away from perfect grill marks on my steaks, but the ones on my oven mitts look fantastic! Also, this one isn't directly mine (unless you count "I will never again trust that restaurant with a dessert"), but for my girlfriend's birthday we brought along a birthday cake which the restaurant offered to keep in their fridge until it was time to bring it. Obviously they don't believe in plastic wrap or container lids in the fridge, if the onion-scented cream on her cake was anything to go by.

I can't think of anything I make that's totally sacred, everything is fiddled with here and there, or added to. That said, I do have a few half-recipes and bases for dishes that work so well that I'd never change them. These are usually parts of other people's recipes, such as the first one that comes to mind (since I made it last night) which is an adapted version of Thomas Keller's quiche. No matter what I add to the quiche, it's always 1 egg + 1/3 cup warm milk + 1/3 cup warm cream + nutmeg + pepper + salt, scaled up to however much I need. Perfect every time.

I'm the opposite. I may not even be a very good cook, but damn do I love the food I make. A large part of it is probably thinking about the food, planning it, hyping it up in my head, and then of course putting it all together, tasting and adjusting as I go. After telling myself how good it'll be for so long, how can I not enjoy it? There's probably a degree of placebo effect in play, I'd say. The only exception: sandwiches. I'll happily eat my daily PB&J for lunch, but there's something about even the simplest sandwich made by someone else that I can't replicate myself.

At the markets today, the place I buy mushrooms from was closed while another place had a sale on cauliflower. So, a last minute change meant dinner tonight was cauliflower risotto with bacon. The veal stock I used was a little disappointing, but a generous helping of pecorino made up for it. In case you're wondering where the cauliflower is, I simmered the hell out of it in the stock so it falls apart in the risotto. It's an interesting surprise flavour, and makes the risotto even creamier.

This morning I had simply a poached egg on half a toasted and buttered muffin. Naturally I topped it with pepper and salt. What I didn't realise is that at the bottom of the mortar and pestle I use to crack peppercorns (ever since the pepper grinder kicked the bucket I haven't got around to getting a new one) was the tiniest bit of crushed saffron left over from flavouring last night's couscous. Simple, but delicious!

Last night was roasted chicken breasts with zucchini, chickpeas, tomato, and a very fruity saffron couscous. After 2 weeks of being flat out and eating only pasta with whatever is in the freezer, it was great to finally have a good meal.

Actually, here in Australia I've never seen bacon sold any other way! ← So is the big round bit called Canadian bacon? and the long skinny part is "streaky"? Am I confused? Tim, have you never seen Shortcut bacon (just the round bit)? ← Now that you mention it I recognise the name (shortcut bacon), but I've only ever seen it in the supermarket butcher. I may have missed the few places that sell it separately, but the standalone butchers I shop from in the markets here (I'm in Adelaide) sell the entire rasher in one piece. I'll keep my eyes peeled next time I go shopping though, since the streaky is my favourite part.

There are some great looking dinners here! Percyn, I'd been waiting to see how that rib eye turned out (looks delicious) since I saw it alongside that mouth-watering hanger steak the other day. Actually, here in Australia I've never seen bacon sold any other way!

Thanks everyone for your help so far, I've learnt a lot. Many of these things I was doing already, so once I fixed what was probably my main problem it all came together into a wonderful, perfectly-cooked, delicious pizza. And that fatal flaw was... Not stretching the dough out thin enough. I thought I was stretching it out thin, but obviously it wasn't thin enough. Letting the dough rise for longer made the dough so much easier to stretch. Now that I've got one successful pizza under my belt, I'm eager to try again. Next time it won't be eaten so quickly and maybe I'll get time to snap a couple of pictures. By the way, in my journeys to make the perfect pizza I came across this magnificent site: Jeff Varasano's NY Pizza Recipe. This guy takes making pizza to a level of obsessiveness that is truly inspirational.

My go-to topping is a thin spreading of pureed tomatoes, some anchovies, mozzarella, and then basil when it comes out. Also I preheat the stone. I'm thinking perhaps I'm not rolling it out thin enough. I've got some more dough left from tonight's failure, I'll try a thinner base and experimenting with the temperature.

Unfortunately, where I live the best pizza you can buy within reason is Pizza Hut, Dominos, and the other pizza chain offerings. If you're prepared to spend big money there's one place that makes a great traditional pizza, but one should -- with a little experience -- be able to make a decent pizza at home, right? Right? Alas, I can't. I've tried and tried but to no avail. One time I got close, but still no cigar. The problem I have is that the crust and in general the outside become overcooked and burnt before the insides have cooked properly. As a result the pizza ends up with an overcooked crust and a doughy centre with a horrible yeasty smell and taste. It's not quite the end of the world -- I can properly cook 90% of the pizza, but getting the crust and the centre perfect seems beyond my grasp. I use a homemade dough like the recipe in Bittman's How to Cook Everything, cook the pizza on a stone, and crank my oven as high as it will go (500F). I preheat for about 30-60 mins, and let the dough rise while I'm preheating. I cook for about 10-15 minutes, or as long as the crusts can bear before becoming inedible. What might I be doing wrong?

Peanut butter, or if I'm feeling extravagant then vegemite spread sparingly (vegemite gets a bad rap, which I think is because most people get this part wrong) over buttered toast. Yes! I love the stuff, but you can imagine the strange looks I got from shop assistants when I tried searching for it here in Australia.

As everyone else said, it's a good sign! As for why your chicken stock isn't turning out that way, perhaps it's too diluted? Even the most gelatinous stock won't set if there's too much water.

Lumas, that looks delicious! The other night was potato gnocchi with a mushroom "ragu". It was good and surprisingly rich, and the remaining ragu went on toast the next day for lunch.

Yesterday I took my new cast iron casserole for a spin with some braised beef. It was fantastic! So rich, and just so... beefy. Unfortunately the potato gratin I made with it wasn't that flash. It wasn't cheesy or creamy enough, and in a paroxysm of procrastination late last night I ran down to the fridge, took it out, and decided to make gnocchi with it. The gnocchi went perfectly with some beef and juices. Meat and potatoes again, just in a more agreeable form.

I've always made the traditional bechamel + cheese + cooked pasta, although lately I've kept the same ingredients but slightly modified how I put them together: Cook the pasta about 3/4 of the way until done, then drain it and set aside. Cook your bechamel sauce until it's just a little thinner than the ideal consistency. Now combine the grated cheese, almost-cooked pasta, and bechamel together, adding maybe 1/2 cup of extra milk. It'll seem way too thin but that's fine. Put it all into a casserole dish, sprinkle the top with bread crumbs + grated parmesan + salt + pepper, and put the lot in a hot oven. The pasta finishes cooking by absorbing the extra moisture in the sauce, with the result being a mac&cheese that seems more creamy and "together" rather than simply pasta stirred through a cheesy sauce.

I remember being in your position a few months ago, searching here for good veggie burger recipes and being surprised at how intensely hated they were by some people. I used a recipe from "delicious" magazine here in Australia which with a few tweaks has served me well. Here's what I do: Ingredients: 1 carrot 2 zucchinis 1 brown onion 1 large clove of garlic 1/4 cup coriander 3 tbs crunchy peanut butter 3 tsp curry paste ~150g wholemeal bread... a bit stale, or dry it out in a warm oven. 1 can (~400g) of chickpeas, drained Flour Milk Olive oil How to make it: 1. Dice the onion. Grate the carrot and zucchini. Sauté them all in a hot pan with a tiny bit of olive oil and some salt. The aim isn't to sweat them but make them just a little tender and colour them. About 2 minutes before they're done, mince the garlic and add that to the veggies. 2. Tear up the bread into small pieces, and whizz in a food processor to make bread crumbs. Add the curry paste, peanut butter, chick peas, coriander, a little salt and pepper, and process until combined. There's no need to process the hell out of it, you just want to combine it all evenly. 3. Combine the veggies and the processed curry/bread/chickpea mix in a bowl. Add enough milk and flour to get everything to stick together. Getting them to stay together can be a real pain... it's really just trial and error until you find the right consistency. 4. Shape into 1.5-2cm burgers, and put in the fridge for at least an hour. Putting them in the fridge will really help them stay together. 5. To cook them, fry in a hot pan with some olive oil, about 4 minutes a side. Enjoy! The key is to keep everything as dry as possible. For the vegetables, don't be tempted to chop them in a food processor, or they'll turn to mush which is both unappealing and way too wet to handle when you're shaping the burgers. When you're sautéing the vegetables, don't pile up the pan or they'll sweat too much. Cook in batches if you need to so they all get nicely coloured and stay dry. It sounds like a lot of fussing around, but really the whole thing's not difficult to put together.