harissa beef sirloin with pepper & lemon sauce [recipe rundown: week four]

We’re not generally (read: ever) ones to add steak to the shopping list. Blake’s not huge on red meat, and I’m too much of a quality meat snob to buy your general supermarket fare. Thanks for this recipe rundown, then, must go to Mumma Bear who stocked our fridge with top notch sirloin straight from the butcher. Praise be.

What better way to give justice to this rare ingredient, then by opening up Ottolenghi’s pages and following what has so far been unfaltering guidance. The result: Harissa beef sirloin with pepper and lemon sauce.

For a dish that both sounds and looks relatively simple, there’s a fair few spoonfuls of flavour bomb which pack a punch. Notably:

• Rose Harissa. This is considered a ‘pantry staples’ à la Ottolenghi, though isn’t necessarily easy to come by I found. He swears by the Belazu paste which you can purchase online though I feel like this counteracts most people’s mindset when cooking from the aptly titled, Simple. In Australia, Josh&Sue’s Rose Harissa should be dotted about the place, and the Essential Ingredient has stores in Sydney and Melbourne. Or. You can do as I did: grab yourself ‘normal’ harissa + rose petals; grind up some of the rose petals in a spice blender, while soaking some in hot water; mix in the ground petals and ‘rosewater’ into the paste; voila. It makes you feel quite the innovative chef even if you have no idea that it adds the right impact.
• Preserved Lemon. Of course this was good. I now want to be one of those people that pickles and preserves, and have these handy on the reg.

This dish goes well accompanied by a crusty loaf and a good red. Leftover pepper + lemon sauce then works wonderfully tossed with pasta the next night (grate over pecorino for extra mmms. As learned last week, everything is better with pecorino).

pasta with pecorino and pistachios [recipe rundown: week three]

Things I learned from week three:

1. What is Mangetout? Snowpeas! (Perhaps followed by 1B: how did I never retain learn this through all those years of French class?)
2. Put together as many ingredients beginning with P, and you have yourself something impeccable.

In 2017, Ottolenghi’s test kitchen brought light to a year that began with the darkness of Trump’s inauguration, when it created Trofie with pecornio, pistachio and basil. And that light continued to shine a little brighter when it was published in Simple, in 2018.

Despite pistachios being more on the Upper East Side of the nut family, they are certainly worth the extra pennies for this recipe. The mangetout adds that fresh crunch and mentality that you’re essentially eating a salad. And then the pecorino brings you back to heavenly, Italian bliss.

In my opinion that should hold no weight, it’s a meal that’s best eaten fresh on the day/night of cooking; and although fusili was a fine enough substitute, I’d love to get hold of the real deal trofie next time. Regardlesss, let us be thankful it wasn’t spaghetti, or else the below without a doubt would have ensued.

 

recipe rundown: week two

Sunday night is more often than not reserved for our potato pizza night. We like to think we’ve got it down to a fine art. But then Ottolenghi once again comes along, and shows us how to adult the pizza game.

This week’s recipe is another from Simple: Pizza bianca with potato, anchovy and sage.

The title probably doesn’t fully depict the richness of this pizza, or just how well the ingredients combine in forming a smooth, congruent topping. All mixed into one, there’s mascarpone, pecorino romano, anchovies, sage and lemon zest; which ends up becoming the pizza base. Wowzer. With four of those five ingredients entering my shopping trolley for the first time in history, you can bet that this didn’t tick the “P” of Otto’s “Simple” (i.e. common pantry ingredients). But it was much easier than you think and you can bet we’ll be purchasing those ingredients again for pizza bianca round two.

2 weeks down, 40 to go.

recipe rundown: week one

I hear there are 42 weeks left in the year. I estimate there to be 9,450 unread (and therefore uncooked) pages of recipe books scattered around our house. So, we’ve set ourselves a challenge:

One new recipe a week, straight outta the books.

Week one has brought on my inspiration, and author of many of the aforementioned books: Ottolenghi, with his recent release Simple. Containing recipes that are either quick-fixes, light on ingredients, use everyday ingredients, time-poor friendly, or a mixture thereof, means many of the next 42 meals are going to be coming from this Bible.

And so we begin with: ‘Bridget Jones’s pan-fried salmon with pine nut salsa’. This one ticked Otto’s boxes of:

• short on time
• 10 or less ingredients
• easier than you think.

In addition to our gold stars that were awarded for:

• Absolute flavour bomb
• Salty, sweet, crunchy, fatty, fresh combo bomb
• Saffron is an expensive lil’ bugger but makes you feel fancy.

All in all: success. 1 week down, 41 to go.

north, slightly

In the time it takes to watch a little over two Friends episodes, we found ourselves in Clareville. For a beach that doesn’t necessarily have a striking sunset nor sunrise (usually a must for my beach-snob self), Clareville glistens with a unique charm that not even the Cockatoo-Cicadas Chorus can drown out.

soundtrack HAIM.
literature latest issue of Elle, and a stack of fiction.
on the side margarita, freshly shook. failing that, a crisp pinot will do fine.

For the sake of transparency, our luxe AirBnB unmistakebly shot the joie de vivre through the roof. As you’d expect when the front gate shares its real estate with the sand, the calm ocean is a mere three metres away (less if we factor in Mother Nature’s delivery of super moons), and an open living/kitchen space which is only destined to feature in Vogue Living.

Take all that away, and you’re still left feeling you could be anywhere in the world.

 

Clareville jetty jumps

Clareville jetty jumps

Clareville jetty jumps

Northern beaches, NSW

Northern beaches, NSW

Northern beaches, NSW

For a splash: Within walking distance is the rolling waves of Avalon Beach and its neighbouring rock pool for your lap-swimming needs. An almost daily ritual on our trip was laughing our noggins off silly while getting dunked every time riding the waves at this beach. Then, a short drive away you have Bilgola and Newport Beaches. We skipped the former due to the incessantly long lineup of cars stemming from it, however Newport was another joy-filled gem. And of course, Clareville Beach itself. Sitting on the bay side, Clareville is your go-to for paddle boarding, kayaking and champagne-fuelled frolics on the sand.

Festivities: Our family has a thing for the most wonderful time of the year… and evidently a common crush on brown paper packages tied up with string. We’ve only ever spent two Christmas’ away from home, and have unashamedly nailed bringing the cheer with us each time. Favourite playful decor purchases this year included Meri Meri‘s sparkly Santa hats, straws, and reindeer glasses, Gingerbread Folk‘s vegan houses (and the family competition that soon ensued) and the fallen gumnuts + leaves found in my front yard which made for pretty details when gift wrapping. And of course, no Christmas can be had without our Christmas Cocktails.

Eateries: Clareville Kiosk is every bit Clareville class, and everything that a ‘kiosk’ is not. In saying that, you’ll discover this is fine dining in an unpretentious, beachside hideaway, with flavour bombs going off on the reg. La Banette in Avalon was our saving grace for mouth-watering pastries and all things bread; if I didn’t have a boyf working in (and thereby providing) wine, then Le Pont Wine Store would have been our go-to; Nourished Wholefoods served up some much needed… nourishments.

The holiday that had me feeling like a different person – had a different energy, a different mind – to the one who drove up slightly north a mere ten days earlier. Simple joys, happy heart.

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simple few

Read: How To Be Parisian Wherever You Are
Watch: A Year in Champagne (Netflix)

Read: Love, Style, Life – Garance Doré
Also Read: Her website, toggling between both français et anglais

Read: Jerusalem – Yotam Ottolenghi
Book: Your flights to the Middle East (well, Lebanon or Israel)

All while burning: Intrinsic Sacred Journey Candle

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delli libre

Read while listening to the official Delli Libre Soundtrack and don’t at all be afraid to happily surrender when that hip-swaying temptation becomes all too much.

Delli Libre was the deserved-beyond-words celebration of my mumma. A party that could be seen as fifty years in the making; having faced the turbulence and trying times, having gone through the self-discovery, having been the absolute girlboss (in so many aspects), having given so much of her energy to others, having soared, having received the triumphs… and celebrating it all in a dizzying whirlwind of colour, light and Afro Cuban All Stars-heavy beats.

Inspired by our trip to Cuba three months prior to party it up for her actual birthday (Miss ‘I don’t want a party; I want us all to celebrate in Havana instead’ must’ve caught a case of #fomo while abroad. Not complaining.), our Hills backyard was transformed in a way only my Martha Stewart mother could pull off. It shone with a ‘fifty and friggin’ fabulous’ vibe, complete with Salsa lessons on the deck, fedoras lining the walls, extremely drinkable margaritas, and dancing to the wee hours.

Mumma, I love you.

And, let’s do this again.

 

Curious to create a Cuban fiesta of your own, or just feel like scrolling through more of The Interwebs? Mood board + handy links below! Peruse!

L-R: Mister Zimi, Poppies for Grace, Meri Meri, Camilla, Carnival Homewares. 

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rome, italy

For a city that wasn’t exactly top of my mentally mapped out ‘Want-To-Visit List’, Rome did a pretty alright job of absolutely exceeding every expectation and filling me with magical wanderings and magical pizzas. It was my third visit to this city, yet I somehow was seeing it through fresh eyes (though, not in the laser eye surgery, or contact lenses kinda way of having fresh eyes). Yes it was mid-July and tourists were scurrying around like little ants, and yes, I had enough sweat to fill a bathtub after making our way from the airport to our apartment, but Rome could really do no wrong. It was also the city where I met this boyfriend of mine after having not seen him for 6 months so, y’know, that was good too.

Rome is a place to lose yourself in the back-cobblestoned-streets without knowing where they’ll lead, to lunch in a tiny sandwich joint where old men sip espressos while reading the paper and waiters don’t speak english, and to use your hands while saying molto bene, grazie, ciao and dovè l’ufficio postale per favore? (except, only use that last one if you’ve got some postcards and are on the lookout for a post office, otherwise, that would be a strange thing to ask).

food

Rome is also a place where the term ‘diet’ is a laughable piece of vocabulary. Our time there began with pizza and ended with pasta, and gelato/coffee/pastries/paninis/more pizza filled the days in between. My favourite haunts were unsurprisingly in the beautiful area where we were staying, Trastevere (prior research before booking had led to the finding that Trastevere was an upcoming foodie/drinkie delight, so it was a kind of no-brainer when we found an AirBnB located in the centre of this spot of Rome). Two particular highlights spring to mind: Pizza at Ai Marmi – where you can watch waiters walk briskly around the huge establishment with 8 trays piled high on their left arm; and Bar Lillo – a ‘locals-only’ kinda vibe emanating from this nothing-looking cafe, that served us no nonsense paninis, true Italian coffee and a morning cornetto.

{you’ll find all the good deets after a lengthy scroll through the pics below}

streets.

We fell in love with the streets of Rome. Some are the setting for thousand-year-old structures sitting casually; others are for markets or faire du promenade; many are lined with quintessentially Italian cars; and then there’s the one where a violin was just nonchalantly propped against the water pipe, apparently without an owner. I had never found the streets of Rome quite so charming.

 

sights.

Blake and I didn’t make the ‘attractions’ of Rome our absolute priority – you always need to leave a reason to come back, and I think that getting a feel for the daily life culture of a city is just as good as ticking off those TripAdvisor ‘Must-Sees’. But, that’s not to say we skipped it altogether. No matter how much the Colosseum is talked up, it reaches all levels of awe and magnificence. As does the Pantheon. Although you won’t go ten meters without a tour guide offering you the ‘absolute best deal!!!’ on their Vatican City tour, St Peter’s Basilica really is a church worth seeing. We whacked on Rick Steves while queuing in the mile-long line (would recommend!) and marvelled at the craziness of how much ($ and time and detail) has gone into this basilica. Vila Borghese, although perhaps not on everyone’s radar, is a great patch of land to escape to when crowds get too overwhelming and/or when you feel like driving a motorised cart like a 10km/hr absolute hoon.

good deets:
Pizzeria Ai Marmi
Viale di Trastevere, 53
6:30pm – 2:30am; closed Wednesdays
Tip: GO HERE.

Bar Lillo
Via dei Genovesi, 39
6:00am – 9:00pm; closed Sundays
Order a panini from the window display; they’re simple yet so effective in making your stomach happy.  

Fatamorgana Gelato
Via Roma Libera, 11 (Piazza San Cosimato)
There’s actually a few of these guys dotted around the city, but word on the street is that this one in Trastevere is a few pennies cheaper. Plus, it’s in Trastevere, period. Go for something like the Black Rice + Rose, or the Walnuts, Rose Petals + Violet Flowers. The sadness of knowing I don’t have a Fatamorgana in front of me right now is overwhelming.

Biscottificio Innocenti
Via della Luce, 21
8:00am – 8:00pm; hours differ Sundays
On a small, quiet Trastevere street lies the BEST Italian cookies you’d wish to try. You’ll feel like you’ve stepped into the ultimate Grandma’s kitchen.

Le Mani In Pasta
Via dei Genovesi, 37
12:30 – 3:00pm; 7:30 – 11:30pm; closed Mondays
Seafood pasta that we fell in love with. Arrived at 9pm without a booking, seated at 9:30pm. You’ll get friendlier service if you’re less stingy than us and order more than just pasta + water. But, delicious regardless.

 

les calanques, cassis

Come a little left from the well-known and luxury-laden Cannes and St Tropez, but stop just short of the French city renowned for dirty streets and drugs (Marseille), and there you’ll find yourself in the small port town of Cassis: a cute and kitsch place in and of itself, but more importantly, home of les Calanques. If Mother Nature had access to Adobe Photoshop or VSCO filters, then I would sure bet she used them unreservedly in creating the Calanques.

take the bus.
From Marseille, there’s two options for reaching Cassis: train or bus (or car, obviously, and swimming, possibly). Advice: take the bus. And sit on the right-hand (starboard) side. Unlike the train, le bus drops you in Cassis’ centre and offers 45 minutes of magnificent views along the windy way.

water wandering + back street roaming.
Although petit, Cassis itself is worthy of a day of walkabout. The harbour houses boats painted in friendly colours, and is lined with restaurants opening their doors for seafood fare with tourist price tags (after all, we are in nautical prints and boat shoes territory). Winding through some narrow alleyways, I met the kind of home exteriors and cobbled streets you might find on one’s Pinterest board, complete with bold or pastel-hued accents. La Fringale won my vote for dinner – a small pizzeria, with waiters who speak more French than English (read: a good sign). During our stroll later in the night, after most lights had been turned off, Roser and I passed by La Fringale, only to find the 60 year old owner and a few of his younger cronies kicking on with old-school Spanish ‘hits’ and dance moves that I’ve never quite seen before. They yoo-hooed us over, and before we knew it, we were inside the tiny restaurant, sipping on a potent, vivid green alcohol poured from a very dusty bottle, being sung to by a very happy, tipsy old man waving about cigarette lighters for that extra punch of ambience. Strange and hilarious, all wrapped into one.

les calanques.
I had high expectations coming to the Calanques. They’d been on my French wish list for some time, waiting for a period of guaranteed warmth and blue sky. However, with only a handful of days remaining until I had to pack the suitcase for the next chapter, a ‘perfect time’ could wait no more. Blue skies absent, the Calanques nonetheless still managed to exceed expectations. The route that Roser and I walked took us from Cassis through to Calanque de Port Miou, Port Pin and finally, en Vau. Water colour, atmosphere and air temperature along the way were like a lucky dip of evolving elements, the grand prize being sights of not-even-real-type turquoise waters, swirling their way amongst limestone cliffs that were a natural wonder in themselves – a rock climber’s paradise.

postcards from portugal

Tiled exteriors. Cobbled streets. A town that has championed the art of sweet morsels of custardy heaven (if you ain’t queuing up at Pastéis de Belem for The Real Deal Portuguese custard tarts, then you’ve got to be re-thinking your life priorities). Our time in Portugal saw only the capital city of Lisbon, and its [formal royal-getaway] neighbour Sintra, but our short week here saw beach excursions, midnight music festivals with our homeboy Chetty Boy Faker, losing our Uber-virginity in order to taste the universe’s best custard tarts (srsly not exaggerating on these), indulging in the beauty of every tiled exterior, bike riding through forests and castles, and enjoying the minimal tourists + relatively inexpensive price tags combo.

You’ll find my list of good’uns after snap-scrolling.

do.

• Nos Alive in Lisbon. 3 day festival, and for the past several years their lineup has been tempting.
• Meander your way through Alfama, in the direction of Cortiço & Netos (and then enter their fine doors, obvs). Here, you’ll find a floor to ceiling wonderhouse of original, unique Portuguese tiles. Over many years, this family-run business has gathered + restored the humble Portuguese tile, preserving an essential piece of cultural identity that – speaking from a visitor’s point of view – makes you instantly fall in love with this country.
• Bike riding in Sintra. Scrap that. Electrical bike riding in Sintra. This town is hills central, and if you want to get close to those two divine fortresses way up high, then electrical bikes are a MUST. Of course, you could always bus/tuk tuk it up there, but then you won’t get impressive stares from onlookers who think you’re actually the next Cadel Evans man powering your way up those hills, with little idea that your electrical motor is silently being the real hero. We used Bicintra which won me over with its design, and we rode half of the Charming Route, and all of the Romantic Route (*cauuutee*). Just make sure the batteries are 110% charged… I think Blake’s still getting over his bike conking out half way up Sintra’s steepest hill. Whoops!

eat + drink.

• Pastéis de Belem. These two and a half words are liquid gold, and please remember that no, that line is not too big.
• If you’re a fan of skyline views (including the little sister of the Golden Gate Bridge, all lit up), good drinks and bars that are located on the rooftop of a city car park, then the aptly-named PARK bar is your go-to pal. Head in early evening if you want to suss out it’s garden terrace digs and see the city over sunset magic, or head towards its doors closer to midnight if you’re keen for DJ beats that most certainly make dancing with randoms appropriate.
• If you’re like me, then you’ll probably scorn and scrunch your face and tsk your tongue when reading a recommendation to visit a food court. Fortunately, Lisbon’s Mercado da Ribeira cleverly disguises its name as a market AND dresses itself with high bar stalls, long shared tables and clean-design that rid all pre-conceived ideas of food court fare. Mercado da Ribeira houses stalls from many of the city’s leading restaurants, so if you’re after a taster and/or cheaper eat of the same good food, then here’s your destination. Grab your gelato from Geladis Santini afterwards, while you’re here.