eG Foodblog: lesliec (2011) - Beef, boots and other stories

[lesliec]

Wellington’s had outdoor weekend fruit and vegetable markets for years, but in the middle of 2009 we got something different: an indoor, undercover market featuring local suppliers.

The City Market was brought to life by chef Martin Bosley, and Rachel Tauleilei of fabulous fish suppliers Yellow Brick Road. They both knew some amazing Wellington food people, and their vision for the Market was to create a space to allow Wellingtonians and visitors to connect with these people and their products. The rules are similar to those for farmers’ markets – in general the products are locally-produced and represented by the people who make them - but slightly broadened to recognise that we’re in the middle of a city; one of the stallholders sells French raw-milk cheeses, for example. Even the kids get looked after; local company Craft House provides activities for them, while most weeks a winemaker is along with tastings for Mum and Dad. There's Emporio coffee, there's amzing bratwursts, there's crepes, there's two - yes, two - artisan bakeries. And each week a different café or restaurant takes over the market kitchen.

And an important point, which I suspect most of us who show up on a Sunday morning either don’t know or have forgotten: the Market is non-profit. Martin and Rachel have put it together, not for themselves but for the industry and the city they live and work in. Thanks, guys!

The Market’s held in the ground floor of an apartment building right on the waterfront – imagine living here on a Sunday! As one of the stallholders said to us last week, there’s always a happy feeling here. It’s a great opportunity to talk to the producers themselves and discuss ways of using their products.

Let’s talk to some of the stallholders. First, superchef, market founder and genuinely nice man Martin Bosley himself. When he’s not in his restaurant just down the road from here, or cooking for the guests of luxury lodges or passengers on exclusive cruise ships, or helping promote New Zealand food and wine in other countries round the world, he has a stall here in ‘his’ market, where he sells his range of cordials, dips and prepared meals. I heartily recommend his oxtail. It comes in vacuum-sealed bags which, for a sous vide user like myself, makes life very easy – an hour or two in the water bath at 65°C or so and they’re ready to go (non-sous vide fans probably do it faster in the oven!). He has lamb shanks and duck confit as well, the latter flavoured with vanilla.

Last year he published a stunning new book, which he’ll happily sign for you. Here’s the inscription in mine, and a sample page:

The book covers Martin’s career at one of Wellington’s ‘must see’ restaurants of the 80’s, Brasserie Flipp, and later at his own place in Oriental Bay. The recipes are well explained and beautifully photographed. The ‘Flavours of Pinot Noir’ above is probably the most complex thing I’ve attempted, but the book breaks it down well into individual components, none of which is terribly difficult. (Things do get slightly exciting at the assembly stage, I admit, if one has only two hands!) ISBN 9781869621797 if you want a treat, but it doesn’t seem to have hit Amazon yet.

Apart from being a fabulous chef himself, Martin is very tolerant of cooking amateurs who bring their efforts in for him to try (not thinking of anyone here …) He particularly endeared himself to me by pronouncing a bottle of my bay-infused olive oil ‘outstanding’. (More about my oils as the week goes on.)

This is Angie, who makes wonderful Italian liqueurs, pickled garlic and garlic sauce under her Angie O label, all while holding down a ‘normal’ job during the day.

We may have been responsible for a major breach in Italy/New Zealand relations by treatment of Angie’s Alloro bay liqueur. The Italians apparently like it as a digestif, served at room temperature and tossed back after a meal. We like to serve it with ice, to be sipped before a meal. Angie’s Italian friends are appalled, but she’s got some of her local customers enjoying it our way too. She also makes a lovely limoncello, which finds its way into several of our cocktails at home – if a recipe calls for citrus vodka we substitute half ‘normal’ vodka and half limoncello. Marvellous stuff, as is her new liamcello made from limes.

Dream Produce is the retail label of top-quality fruit and vegetable supplier 24 Carrot.

Will has been selling premium, often organic, produce to Wellington restaurants since 2002 and now appears at the City Market with an astonishing range – I bought my first fresh white asparagus from him last year. He sources some 80% of his products from the usual daily fruit/veg market; the rest comes directly from growers. This give him the ability to find some of the less mainstream items chefs might ask him for. Look at those cherries – yes, they tasted as good as they look.

Will also hosts a motorcycle club for food-industry people, to give them a chance to get out of the kitchen and blow off a different sort of steam. And before you ask: that dressing on his thumb is proof that even cauliflowers can bite!

Here’s Rachel of Yellow Brick Road, co-founder (with Martin) of the City Market. Rachel’s the one on the right.

Rachel’s had a fascinating career. She trained as a lawyer, for which we must forgive her, and started Yellow Brick Road five years ago after eight years in the US as trade commissioner. Her idea with Yellow Brick Road was to shorten the time it took to get fresh New Zealand seafood to US chefs, using the contacts she’d built up with both consumers in the States and producers here, and she did that very successfully. But local chefs who had tried her ultra-fresh fish kept pestering her to supply them as well. A change to the business model was called for, and now all her product is sold within New Zealand. Rachel has the distinction of being the person who got Jane and I liking oysters after many years of perceived aversion. Her Makutu Bay ones, from Waiheke Island near Auckland, are tasty, meaty treats, rather than something best left in a handkerchief.

Ross and Trish bought Loukoumi, an artisanal Turkish Delight manufacturing business, in 2003.

The original recipe (no gelatine!) was brought to New Zealand by a Romanian family escaping from Communist persecution. Ross and Trish have expanded the range and, as well as the more traditional flavours like rose, orange and berry, now offer such exotica as liquorice, pomegranate and feijoa (that’s a fruit native to South America we seem to have adopted as our own). At the appropriate time of the year they even make a Christmas Pudding flavour – highly recommended! And remember the White Witch’s Turkish Delight in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe? It came from Loukoumi (they made 120kg of it for maybe 15 seconds file time, but that’s another story).

That’s only a taste, but this is getting kinda long! Outside, the separate Harbourside fruit and vegetable market on Sundays takes over most of the carpark beside our national museum, Te Papa, while down on the wharf you can buy fish straight from the boat (with free advice on cooking it). Perhaps some photos will suffice:

We're now very well served for high-quality, fresh produce. But that's not the half of what's available here, as you'll see when I take you to a couple of my other regular haunts. Enjoy these for now - it's time I started getting ready to go out to dinner. A report will follow in due course.

[lesliec]

Chris, Nick, Erin: thanks for your additions. I hadn't heard about the 'controlled air' screwcaps, but it sounds sensible. Nick's right about us being early adopters in this part of the world. Indeed, I understand we've sometimes been used for test-marketing new technologies because of this.

Boxed wines: yes, they're still around, but don't expect anything good out of them (I'm speaking only of New Zealand ones; I think Australia has persisted with them, with better wine, more than we have). Honestly, I don't think I'd even try mixing any of ours with tonic to make it drinkable. In fact, now I think about it, any I've looked at recently have all been mixes of local and imported grapes - possibly even concentrates. Ugh!

[nakji]

He particularly endeared himself to me by pronouncing a bottle of my bay-infused olive oil ‘outstanding’. (More about my oils as the week goes on.)

Sounds gorgeous! I can't wait to hear about them.

[haresfur]

Just as a side tidbit: modern screw closure manufacturers have developed designs that allow very precise quantities of air to get through the cap. The control is far better than with a cork, with exactly the same benefits. These days the only thing keeping cork enclosures around is tradition and consumer preference.

The track record in Australia and NZ is certainly on the side of screw caps. There is one other pro-cork argument I heard from a small producer in the US - it was less expensive for him to get set up to use corks (synthetic) than to do screw caps.

Great blog so far and we've only begun!

[Pierogi]

Leslie, your peach dessert looks fabulous, as did that whole meal. I want those beans, badly. Again, I am in awe of your markets, but have to keep reminding myself that it technically is the *dead of winter* here (even though it was 80-plus degrees here today..oy...) and our spring and summer fruit and veg is coming soon. Well, as soon as we get through the never-ending supply of hearty greens that is.....chard tacos anyone??

I can't wait, as a fellow lover of gin, to see the distillery tour. But beat Bombay Sapphire.....reallllllllly? Howabout Tanquery #10.....?

[harrysnapperorgans]

Enjoying the blog Leslie! I live in Newlands, and work just a block back from Moore Wilsons - which is often just too tempting, I'm afraid.

Sadly, even though there are some wonderful markets around, I work Sundays (I'm a pastor at Wellington Elim church), and so don't get a chance to go.

[lesliec]

Erin: Patience! Oil things come to she who waits (maybe I should have warned everybody I've never met a pun I didn't like).

Haresfur: Thanks for the kind words. Call me a traditionalist, but I'm happy to choose between real corks and screwcaps. Synthetic corks scream 'cheap'.

Pierogi: 27°C sounds like a pretty good winter! One of the nice things about Wellington is we don't really get extremes of temperature. Some parts of the country have hit close to 40°C in the past few weeks (over 100°F), and in a few months some parts will have some snow (actually, some of the same parts!), but Welly plugs solidly on; a particularly cold winter's day might hit 5° and the hottest summer one might manage 28°, but those are pretty unusual. Between 10 and 20 is probably our norm. Hang in there; the salads are coming. Beat Bombay? Yep, easy. Check back tomorrow.

Harry: I'm visiting MW tomorrow, so that should be reported here in the next day or two. My sympathies on your Sunday constraints. Have you had a look at the Hill St farmer's market on Saturdays?

I'm just back from a lovely dinner, people. Feeling quite happy with life in general, but I really need to get some sleep now (it's about 11.20pm here). See you tomorrow.

[nakji]

Erin: Patience! Oil things come to she who waits (maybe I should have warned everybody I've never met a pun I didn't like).

Oil be waiting! (Neither have I.)

[codheadred]

Great Pics looking forward to this blog (love Wellington!)

[Shelby]

What a great market!

I've always wanted to see/taste Turkish Delight ever since reading that book! I didn't picture it like that...I don't know what I expected lol. Can you describe the texture and taste?

[nakji]

Turkish Delight is almost like a soft jelly candy, isn't it? I like rose flavour. My husband's a big fan, and gets it for Christmas from Marks & Spencer.

[Pam R]

Pierogi: 27°C sounds like a pretty good winter! One of the nice things about Wellington is we don't really get extremes of temperature. Some parts of the country have hit close to 40°C in the past few weeks (over 100°F), and in a few months some parts will have some snow (actually, some of the same parts!), but Welly plugs solidly on; a particularly cold winter's day might hit 5° and the hottest summer one might manage 28°, but those are pretty unusual. Between 10 and 20 is probably our norm. Hang in there; the salads are coming. Beat Bombay? Yep, easy. Check back tomorrow.

Beautiful shots of the market - I'm envious of any place that has good markets (as we don't) and Wellington just hit the top of the list. Does the produce have distinct growing/selling seasons or does the climate mean most things are available year-round?

[lesliec]

Erin: I like you! We're going to get along just fine (but don't get me started in a punfight about trees or fish. You can't possibly win).

Codheadred: Thanks for that - the first response from Liverpool, I think.

Shelby: You shouldn't have much trouble finding Turkish Delight; finding a really good one might be harder. As Erin says, it's a soft jelly, rolled in either icing (confectioners') sugar or cornflour (cornstarch). The traditional flavour is rose. Last time I saw Ross and Trish at the market they had new treats (whose name escapes me) consisting of rose Turkish Delight rolled in filo pastry. Horribly addictive, I suspect.

Incidentally, I must apologise for omitting a Web address for Loukoumi. Here it is.

Pam: Yes, we are subject to seasonality; I was just trying to continue my deception about Wellington's perfect weather (very nice again today, thank you). The cherries are now all but finished, and we'll have to wait until October for the next lot of asparagus. Of course, as with most places we import stuff that's in season elsewhere - Californian oranges spring to mind.

[lesliec]

More gin, Vicar?

I'm just about to go out to talk to some more food people around Wellington on your behalf, but I know some of you have been dying for a drink. So I'll leave you this to be going on with. I'll tell you more in a couple of hours - make sure you save some for me.

[weinoo]

They're not kidding around on the price of the cherries, are they? Are they from South America?

[lesliec]

Hi Mitch. I'm confident in saying the cherries are local.

Yes, they are a lot more than your average cherry, but they're not your average cherry (and remember the exchange rate/metric thing - $10 a pound in your part of the world, maybe?). Will said he'd had some of the same breed that were the size of a Brussels sprout. He had ordered another 20kg from his grower but nothing arrived, so he concludes that's that until next year.

[lesliec]

OK, time to put the gin enthusiasts out of their misery.

Yesterday, Jane and I having both having taken a day off work for the purpose, we took ourselves an hour north of Wellington to the small Wairarapa town of Greytown. From Wellington, the Wairarapa region feels like a series of small towns (that's because it is a series of small towns). After you get over the Rimutaka hill road (horrible twisty road - sorry, no photos; I like you all but I don't want to die for you!) you come to Featherston. It gives the impression of slowly dying, but is still good for big ice creams at the dairy. Next is Greytown; much more vibrant, with lots of cafes and antique shops - this is where Wellingtonians come for a drive at weekends. Then Carterton. I hope there're no Cartertonians reading this, but really it's a bit ghastly. Very flat, one long strip of houses, shops and more houses with no redeeming features! Off to the right is Martinborough, centre of the wine region. And finally Masterton, the region's main centre, where I used to get particularly fine sausages from one of the fish and chip shops - this is going back 30-odd years, mind. But I digress ...

In a shed, in a field, on the outskirts of Greytown, is the home of Lighthouse Gin. They share the facility with a juice maker; there's also a cider press in there somewhere. There we met Neil Catherall; company founder, chemical engineer and distiller.

The story of Lighthouse Gin goes back at least to 2004, when a group of friends were having what Neil describes as a boozy lunch at one of the vineyards. Somebody had the thought that they should start making their own wine but somebody else must have stayed sober, so that idea was squashed. Then they decided maybe brandy, because of the number of idiots people who were making wine. However, they then worked out that, even ignoring the time it would take to get the recipe right, the product would need maturation and blending and so wouldn't really be viable until after they were all dead. So ... gin. After a few years to get the recipe where they wanted it, Lighthouse came onto the market in June 2009. And I think I may claim to have been drinking it pretty much from the beginning!

As you see from the photo, this is not a large operation. The still holds 200 litres (a batch was going through while were were there). However, that's not necessarily a bad thing. Neil and his partners wanted an ultra-premium product. Unlike many - dare I say most? - high-end gins, Lighthouse is distilled twice. The first distillation takes neutral spirit (made from cane - they tested other sources and decided they liked this one best) and water, adds the botanical flavourings in bags (they allow these to steep 12 hours at room temperature before turning on the still) and ends up as overproof gin (around 71% alcohol, I think Neil said). This then goes back into the still with more water and is distilled again, then finally it's cut with rainwater - not just any rainwater, mind; they distill that as well - to bring it to 'drinking' stength of 42%. The result, they believe (and as a drinker of the product I must agree) is ultimate clarity, purity and the best taste. This is what hot gin looks like, straight from the still:

Lighthouse is classed as a London Dry style. This means no additional flavouring is added after distillation. The botanicals they use are locally-sourced where possible. They use fresh, not dried, lemon and orange zest (I got the impression of Neil sitting with a bag of lemons and a zester over the long winter evenings). 'Standard' gin flavour comes of course from juniper; they also add sweet almond, cassia bark, coriander, cinnamon, liquorice root, orris root and probably several other things. Neil has no problem with us all knowing what's in there; it's the exact recipe he's keeping to himself. A New Zealand element comes from kawakawa leaves, which add a very slight peppery note (by coincidence when we went to dinner later that day we were offered kawakawa tea at the end and can confirm it's rather nice). The still itself was made just down the road and the bottles are made in France; there's a factory outside Paris which many of the high-end spirit makers go to because of the quality of its glass.

So ... what's it like? I lack the vocabulary to adequately describe tastes. The best I can do is to say if you like Bombay Sapphire, you'll love Lighthouse. One revelation for us in the last little while is how much difference good ingredients make to a cocktail (yeah, I know, it's obvious). I guess it's fair to say a Martini is a good test for any gin - there's not much else in there! Where previously we might have used an 'ordinary' gin and commonly- available vermouth, moving to Lighthouse and a good vermouth (we're on Donin at present) results in an entirely different, much richer drink. That said, it's hard to beat a G&T, and our secret there is a small quantity of St Germain elderflower liqueur in the mix. Salut!

As to where you can get it ... well, that might be tricky. In New Zealand, fine (good retailers, anyway). Aussie: yes, they have a distributor in Melbourne. UK/Europe: not sure; email Lighthouse. US: problem. Your regulations mean the bottle itself is illegal - it's 700ml; 750 or a litre would be OK, and they're thinking about that. The label would need a lot of work to make it compliant with US requirements. The message from Neil is: please don't just order it from the website without emailing first. It might save you money and irritation. It's OK if somebody sends it to you as a gift, however, so if you know somebody in New Zealand there might be a way. Oh no, what did I just do???

[lesliec]

After our visit to Lighthouse Gin, lunchtime called. So after a 20 minute drive we reached Martinborough, 'capital' of the Wairarapa wine region.

Now, I must give you some background here. You see, when a Mummy grapevine and a Daddy grapevine love each other very much, they get married. And - um - that's where grapes come from.

Martinborough led the charge in New Zealand Pinot Noir growing. Clive Paton at Ata Rangi wines was one of the pioneers of Pinot back in the 80s; now it's recognised as one of the varieties we can do extremely well. As I write the harvest is only a month or so away, so the little guys above are nearly ready to go. Note the netting to try and limit the amount the birds get:

For lunch we went to Tirohana Estate, one of the oldest vineyards in Martinborough. Lovely table setting - they must have some grapes around here somewhere:

The meal - sorry, no photos - was quite pleasant; tomato soup followed by chicken and mushroom risotto for me and a melon/feta/mint salad followed by Moroccan lamb shank for Jane. Toby looked after us very well. But - and I swear I didn't know about this before we arrived - look at the label on the Pinot:

[helenjp]

So no plans for Lighthouse to conquer the Japanese market then?

I'm thinking the Wairarapa might have changed just a wee bit since I was there last...about the time you were gorging on Masterton sausages, I was running around interpreting for a Japanese TV crew doing a feature on the Golden Shears! I don't recall fine wines making much of an appearance...

Love the leafy table setting at Tirohana.

[lesliec]

Hi Helen. Good point - I didn't ask about Japan/China. Could be a good market for them, but on the other hand I'm not sure how they'd cope with the increased production it would require without fundamentally changing how they work. The same applies to any bigger market they went into, of course.

[lesliec]

OK, it's time I took you to see some of my favourite shops. I'll be highlighting three of the particularly special ones.

First, we have to drive a short distance northeast to the suburb of Petone on the other side of the harbour. When the European settlers first came to Wellington, this is where they landed, and several of the streets - Tory, Cuba, Oriental - still recall the names of the first ships.

Imagine this: it's Saturday morning. You've come to a tiny shop in a back street, marked with a large South African flag. Once you've squeezed in the door past the people waiting to pay for their purchases, at least one member of staff - more commonly two or three, including the owners - will ask if you'd like a coffee. You walk to the rear of the shop, past more people who, like you, have been distracted by something interesting on a shelf. Or on the floor. Once you reach the back, your coffee's waiting - no charge for that, by the way. The cup is hot, so while you sip it (carefully) you wander round a few more aisles. Maybe there's a wine tasting going on, tucked into a corner. When you've finished your coffee, somebody says 'And what can we help you with today?'. You mumble something about maybe trying some of that cheese there. They give you some. 'And if you like that style, you might like this. Try some.' Something different? 'We've just had this one in from [insert country/region here]. Try some.' Olives? Anchovies? Prosciutto? Salami? Iberico ham? 'Try some of this.' Congratulations. You've found Ontrays.

Steve and Valda Scheckter started their business in 1998, pushing a sandwich cart up The Terrace (which is where I now work - quelle coincidence!). Growing tired of trying to do this in the rain, they acquired some cheese agencies and moved into a small shop in Petone - even smaller than the one they're in now, which they moved to a couple of years later. Their business now supports mostly restaurants, but you'll also see the Ontrays label in the deli section of some supermarkets. And maybe 20% of their business is from lucky retail customers like me, who know where to find them.

Ontrays is the place to come for cheese. Steve and Valda sources cheeses from what seems like every country with mammals! There's Australian triple-cream Brie, there's French Mimolette, looking like a rotten orange but tasting far better. There's Spanish Manchego, there's Bulgarian feta, there's English Stilton, Lancashire and Wensleydale. Oh, and fabulous aged Gouda, made right here. And they don't just have the stuff to sell; Steve can tell you pretty much anything you might want to know about the origins and best ways to use any of his products. Valda is a very knowlegeable cook, with a huge reference library. She can even advise on kosher or halal foods and cooking methods, not something many New Zealanders would know much about. Valda wasn't in when I called, but here's Steve with one of Spain's finest:

Aside from the knowledge of what they've got, what I really like about Ontrays is their willingness, even in the Saturday madness, to take time to talk to their customers; to understand what they need and, when it's not already somewhere in the shop (rare!), to find a source and order it. I asked Steve a few years ago to find a particular cheese we'd enjoyed on a visit to France. It took him a while to track it down, but he got it. Ontrays is a very valuable part of my Wellington food scene. I hope you've enjoyed this taste.

[DeliciouslyLekker]

Lovely blog. I feel like roast tonight, too!

I love going to all those little shops but language is still a problem for me. It's hard to be witty in a foreign language!

Really gorgeous table setting at the estate. Might just incorporate that to my wedding;)

[nakji]

Ah, the ice creams!

My husband and I took the long-distance bus round both the South and North Islands, and many a time the driver would come over the speaker to announce that the dairy in the town we were about to drive through had "exceptionally large" ice creams, and if anyone would like, they would pull over to let us get one. How can you resist offers like that? And if it wasn't ice creams, it would be raspberry pies or slices, or similar.

The gin sounds fascinating - I'm a gin enthusiast myself, drinking G&Ts straight through the Jiangsu summer. I suppose I'd find Lighthouse distributed in Auckland? A bottle of that going home as a souvenir would last longer than a bottle of wine in my house. Marginally.

[lesliec]

Hi, Nyonya. Thanks for that. Don't worry about your English; it looks pretty good to me (and some of the people I work with would tell you I have trouble being witty in it too). And congratulations on your engagement!

Yep, Erin, you should find Lighthouse in Auckland. I'll make a couple of enquiries, if you like. When were you coming - August, did you say?

[Kent Wang]

Do you do most of your shopping at a variety of individual stores, or supermarkets like in the US?