Dancing on My Table

I’m a great fan of Christmas because it gives the family a focus and brings everyone together – I uphold any celebration that does this.

And I have fond memories of my childhood – I’m the youngest of 10 children and our Christmases were amazing – we always had an enormous freshly-felled pine tree the tip of which touched the high-studded ceiling. More impressively for me and all my siblings, the presents stretched right across the room – you could barely walk in the large sitting room for fear of standing on something. I have no idea how my parents made their meager earnings stretch so far, but no one went without, and I always thought I was the luckiest girl alive when I received a new doll, or a plaything. One of the best presents I received was a golden-haired doll with eyes that blinked. My sister was jealous because, she’s a blonde and she was given a similar doll with blinking eyes but with short brunette hair. Oh the fights! The other best present was a toy cake mixer with a button that made little beaters go round and round. It was just gorgeous.

My father really came into his own at Christmas-time. Once all the glasses of milk and biscuits which dad eventually managed to persuade us to change to bottles of beer, had been left for Santa, and he had got us off to bed, we were usually helped on our way with a swig of something strong and ‘medicinal’, it was after midnight, and he sat up preparing bags and bags of sweets and surprises for our stockings. He got dressed up and darted in and out of our rooms delivering stockings – he never got caught – but his answer was at the ready had he been: there were so many of us that he had to give Santa a hand!

We also had the house decorated to the nines, with hand-made streamers strewn everywhere, and Xmas-tree lights, which were the bane of my father’s life, because, with old tree lights, you may remember, if one light went, it caused the whole string of them to go, so you had to methodically work through every light until you found the dodgy one. The lights were beautiful, bells and balls, all glass and painted, not like the plastic ones you get today. Dad also made a huge wooden Santa silhouette with ‘feet’ that he would ‘plant’ in the front lawn every Christmas. No one ever stole things in those days – the Santa was put out every year, and packed up safely at the end of the silly season, bikes were strewn on the front lawn and forgotten about until the following morning. It was safe back then and everyone knew their neighbours, especially the women because they chatted over the back fences while they hung up the washing.

Our Xmas-day feast was all about roasted meats, roasted vegetables, new potatoes and fresh peas and beans from the garden. My sisters and I would sit in the sun – it was always sunny on Xmas day – shelling peas, eating as many as we shelled. There was usually a roast of lamb or pork, roasted kumara and pumpkin, and always a ham. My father would scrub out the old stone ‘copper’ in the wash house and cook the ham in it by lighting a fire underneath it and keeping the fire ticking along for the several or so hours it took to cook the ham. He loved ham. And that brings me to traditions.

My dad is now 96- 97 this coming Februrary. He still loves ham. He spends Christmas day with us every year. I gather together the stray ones in the family, those who have lost their loved ones, or those who are now single. This year it’s just a small group of 8, but dad will at least get to spend the day with 4 of his children, and that’s what he loves.

Whenever I think about what to cook for Christmas day, the starting point has to be the ham. I sometimes think I’ll flag it, but then I think of dad. I sometimes think we’ll have the ham then, and anything else I care to cook, but then I think of dad, and I always come back to what he loves most, that is, ham with plenty of mustard, new potatoes, fresh peas and beans. I usually get carrots in there, too.

I still cook a turkey, sometimes, depending on how many I am cooking for, a leg of pork, or other meats – I have done little baby chickens before – but turkey seems to be the most sort after dish. And I’ve started a tradition of my own which I guess now I will never be able to break: the stuffing. I make double quantity of a really delicious stuffing and use some to stuff the turkey and the rest I shape into balls and cook quickly until they’re golden and crunchy. My children beg me for them. They go nuts about them. They love stuffing balls more than anything in the world. So, of course we will have stuffing balls.

I also make some little sweet bits and pieces, such as German almond biscuits cut in the shape of stars and glazed with egg white and icing sugar which puffs up as they cook and looks like snow. These are actually called zimsterne, but we just call them star biccies because that’s what the kids called them when they were young. I also make some gorgeous walnut and chocolate balls the recipe given to me by a Czech woman years ago. And I make mince pies and a Christmas cake.

On the surface it may seem a bit ho-hum – nothing exceptional here, but it is so steeped in years of family love and tradition that I can’t waver from it. I am not sure what I will do when dad is no longer with us.

On reflection, in my magazines, I do all manner of non-traditional Christmas menus, and these we eat with relish, but I’m usually preparing these in September or October, so it’s like we’ve had ten Christmases by the time it really does come around. This year I have done an all-seafood menu, which is stunning, and various dishes with veal, chicken, lamb and pork in the magazines, but we’ll be eating traditional food in our house. We usually start with a bit of Italian flare, with melon and prosciutto, good croissants, panettone, and maybe a glass of light bubbly, just my husband and two children. This is around 11.00am, then the family arrives about 2.00pm the main meal is served about 5.00pm – and we party into the night, sending dad home in a cab, and the others staying over.

Boxing day is different, we spend it with our closest group of old friends (truly old, now!), and we do a joint-meal, with leftovers. It’s always interesting to see what they’ve had at their various family celebrations. They’re all great cooks, but mostly, they have traditional fare.

For something different, try this stunning Fillet of beef studded with mortadella and pistachio nuts, and finish with the most impressive dessert I’ve ever created, Choux pastry tree with white chocolate and raspberries.

There are heaps more Christmas recipes on my site, including Pavarotti’s ham – the ham I cooked for Signor Luciano Pavarotti when he came to NZ in 1999 – turkey breast in verjuice with green grapes and almonds,quick mince pies, chocolate mince pies and my stunning meringue mountain with strawberries.

I’ve just had a gorgeous spring weekend in Queenstown. It used to be the place to go for extended skiing weekends, or, late summer for a wine crawl, but it most definitely now stands alone as a great food destination, too, – it’s HOT! Taste magazine held a reader’s dinner at Lake Hayes’ Amisfield Winery, about 10 minutes’ drive out of Queenstown. After salmon nibbles and bubbles we were seated indoors with a fire roaring away, but the days are getting warmer, and the outdoor elongated dining courtyard set around a water feature is the place to be in fine weather. The high altitude, cool climate and long summers of Amisfield’s vineyards help winemaker Jeff Sinnott produce a classy Pinot Noir. The 2006 vintage teamed with a superbly cooked roast of highland beef on a creamy mash of white beans and chard executed by Exec Chef Jason Innes went down a treat. This was preceded by a carpaccio of crayfish with NZ grapefruit, tiny asparagus points and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil – light, spring-like and divine matched with Arcadia Brut NV. The award-wining food at Amisfield centres on locally grown food, much of which is organically grown. Flavours are fresh and uncomplicated. Remember to book, and, be aware that the restaurant is only open for lunch or early evening dining.

Lucky old me, I stayed in luxury accommodation: Alta Vista, a 3-bedroom serviced apartment managed by Touch of Spice. Situated high above Queenstown, with to-die-for views looking out over sparkling Lake Wakatipu framed by majestic snow-capped mountains, it’s a brisk steep walk to the centre, but just a 3-minute car ride back up the hill! It is, I decided, good for the soul to stay in such a place, the air as crisp as an apple, the food a treasure-chest of irresistible goodies, and the wine imminently drinkable.

Touch of Spice is a relatively new company specializing in personal concierge services available at 14 stunning homes they manage in the Queenstown area. A personal chef is available to come and cook for you, or you can be left to your own devices. Guess what I chose? Yep, that’s right, a personal chef – for one night anyway! Along with Taste magazine’s editor Suzanne Dale and husband Dennis, we supped on a truly memorable dish of scampi which had been split and grilled, followed by lightly cooked venison washed down with local wines. All we had to do after dinner was toddle off to bed – no dishes, no driving. Bliss.

But you couldn’t keep us out of the heart of Queenstown for long – we were headed to the newly opened Botswana Butchery to taste the fare of chef Leungo Lippe. Located in the historic Archers Cottage at 17 Marine Parade just metres from the shores of Lake Wakatipu, the restaurant is cuter than cute, with an assortment of tables and seating, leather couches and cosy nooks, including grand dining chairs in plush fabrics, and colours of hot red, lime green and warm gold. Don’t worry – it’s harmonious, but interesting and stimulating. Cleavers seem to be the thing, embedded in the main door as a handle, arranged as an art installation on the wall and shaped into tuille biscuits served atop small squares of layered cake. The menu. Here’s the thing. My heartbeat rose at first glance – I could have chosen any one of the eight starters, and likewise of the 8 main courses. I settled on Westcoast crayfish springroll with coriander, tamarind aioli and petit salad, followed by roasted duck confit of duck leg, puy lentil and shiitake mushrooms, buttered spinach and thyme jus. I could just as easily have chosen tart tatin of celeriac, leek and potato, marinated Mediterranean vegetables, lime and herb mascarpone and celery pesto – a great vegetarian option. How we managed dessert is a mystery. I think the excellent Pinot Noir must have helped the digestion!

As is my tradition, we made a stop next morning at Joe’s Garage for a late breakfast. If Botswana Butchery is exceptional and classy dining, Joe’s Garage then is homely, slightly grungy, but with just the right smells of freshly ground and brewed coffee, fried bacon, sizzling tomatoes and toast. It draws in the punters time and time again.

Queenstown is an ever-changing hub of gastronomy and viticulture. I leave all those bungey-jumping and white water rafting adventures to the tourists and those snow-capped mountains and ski-fields to the fleet of foot. My pursuit is…well, you already know, great food and wine, and there’s no shortage here.

For further information on Queenstown – www.queenstown-nz.co.nz

Botswana Butchery

Amisfield Winery

Touch of Spice

Stopping work for a cup of tea and a natter during working hours is something most of us indulge in regularly, but an invitation to a formal afternoon tea served in the home is rare these days. But after enjoying a few special hours at the Langham Hotel in Auckland on Tuesday, I’m thinking of reviving the tradition. It’s cheaper than entertaining in the evening – the invitation is to drink tea, after all, not Champagne – and you can specify the time your guests arrive and leave. If you’ve ever suffered guests who just don’t know when to go home, this could be a blessing!

But back to the Langham Hotel. The invitation was to come and enjoy the Langham’s signature afternoon tea for the same price that was paid for it 143 years ago: one shilling six pence. How could I refuse?

The Langham London was able to establish that she was the first grand hotel to serve afternoon tea after an original hotel tariff dated 10 June 1865 was uncovered showing afternoon tea billed as ‘Teas, Plain’ consisting of simple but dainty items including cakes, sweets, bread and butter and, of course, tea.  Other popular afternoon tea establishments such as The Ritz and Savoy were not in existence at this time.

To honour this part of dining history, Langham hotels around the world – in Auckland, Boston, Hong Kong, London, Melbourne and Pasadena – served afternoon tea in grand style for little more than a few cents on Tuesday 10th June. (For New Zealanders one shilling six pence equates to .18c NZD.)

The Langham Auckland afternoon tea consists of petite scones, smoked salmon pinwheels, tomato, cucumber and egg sandwiches, chocolate-coated tuxedo-dressed strawberries, fresh fruit tartlets, lamingtons, English fruit cake, and spice cake accompanied by crème fraiche, strawberry preserve, butter, and of course, tea and coffee. What a treat! 
My first formal afternoon tea was taken at The Farmer’s department store in Auckland with my mother. It was a hat and gloves’ affair and while I remember steaming pots of tea, sandwiches and scones, I remember much more clearly the hushed words from my mother asking me to be on my best behaviour. That meant asking for food to be passed rather than reaching and grabbing it, otherwise speaking only when spoken to, eating with one’s mouth closed, and never talking while eating. Afternoon tea at the Langham this week was a far cry from those days. My daughter Ilaria and friends Sue and Liz and I relaxed in the soft squishy armchairs, and while doing our best to hold on to some decorum, we started with Champagne (why not, we chorused?) laughed louder than we should, ate more than we should, and had way more fun than I ever did as a girl in those tight little afternoon teas. Highly recommended.

The kitchen at The Cookbook Corner is about the size of an average western kitchen. With its sink, fridge, benches, shelves etc this space would be a fine set-up for a single cook.…but it wasn’t like that. Oh no! In the middle of the room is a very tall fridge, and all around benches, one side with a double sink, the other two with elements, or spare bench space. Things stacked all around, including my seven heavy bags, and those of other chefs, and coats and clogs, chefs’ whites and toques. Still workable. The kitchen had a door through to the demonstration kitchen, which meant there was a lot of traffic between the two spaces. Still okay. The problem? At any one point there would be 10 people in this space, all fighting to prepare their food for their upcoming dem – demonstrators, assistants from Le Cordon Bleu school, administrators and the kitchen manager. Still just about manageable if you kept your elbows pinned to your waist. People popping in to get water and others asking if they could store things in the kitchen just for a short time (where, madam, on the ceiling?) became part of the wallpaper. When the film crews decided it would be fun to film the ensuing chaos, things got a bit too tight. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t get near the fridge, let alone in it. There were big cameras in the way and heaving bodies everywhere. But it didn’t matter, because there were no prima donnas (no room for them) and everyone helped each other (thank you Chef Ramzi and Le Cordon Bleu students). The general public through the other side of the door wouldn’t have had any idea. All in a day’s work!

The previous day I had made a brief introductory presentation on stage at The Gourmand Cookbook Awards. As I walked to the stage they screened a clip from one of my breakfast television pieces where I was showing my daughter how to make rice pudding (actually, she was showing me!).

To find out more about the Gourmand Awards (these awards are in their 12^th year, and award wine and drink books as well as cook books) go to www.cookbookfair.com