the burnt chef |

welcome to the white mountains

June 27, 2015 By Wozz Leave a Comment

“Oh you should see it, she told me with two hands clasp together in front of her chest and eyes wide with excitement. New England and the White Mountains in the summertime is just so beautiful.”

This was part of Tommo’s pitch as we locked in our plans to leave Australia and move to somewhere in New England. In all my visits to the US and New England it was true, I had never seen her in the summertime. Always in those nondescript times of year. No longer fall but not yet winter. No longer winter but not yet spring kind of months. Always echoing the cold of winter with grey skies, brown grass and leafless trees. Of course I was curious, maybe even a wee bit excited for the new adventure. Beyond summer I was even excited for winter and to see falling snow and a white Christmas for the first time in my life ever.

Now anyone who knows the northern US and New England specifically would see through my wife’s pitch of a beautiful New England summertime and its Anne of Green Gables painted eternal bliss. Lacking were a few simple meteorological nuances that any sun kissed Australian looking to follow my lead should probably know. Have you ever wanted to visit Siberia… well the winters in the northeast are essentially the same, yay! Don’t like spring? well not to worry, in northern New England did you know it doesn’t exist, just a couple of weeks in May and you can move straight into summer, phew! And summer, well that equates to a only 10 weeks, maybe even less if your lucky before the first yellow hue appears in the landscape and leaves begin to turn and your soul slowly begins to wither on its journey to January.

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Strawberry Rhubarb Scone “Biscuit” Cobbler

June 23, 2015 By Wozz Leave a Comment

“Now at least, I understand. As it turns out, a “biscuit” is what one is to call an ill used scone.”

The first time I saw it was well before the turn of the millennium. That would make it something like 16TBT. I was working aboard a replica of the HMAV Bounty, the square rigger built for the famous film, Mutiny on the Bounty starring Mel Gibson and Sir Anthony Hopkins. It was all very theatrical little job and damn good fun. Each crew member with a role to play dressed in buccaneer type garb all sashes and bandanas, ooh arrh-ing and aye aye captain-ing and all that kind of pirate talk melarky. We would take the old girl out with our guests and steam into the wind, somewhere into Sydney’s vast harbor. It was different everyday and as with all things sailing, our itinerary was dependent on the wind.

We would steam past the Opera House and turn under the Harbor Bridge or out past Fort Denison pointing out Sydeny landmarks and historical sites as we went. Once a destination of nowhere in particular had been reached we would come about, that being to turn the ship around. We would set those heavy square canvas sails to the song of sea shanties and sail back the way we had come, in silence except for the sound of wind through the rigging and a hum of a generator keeping the beer cold and food hot. Lunch was a spread of roasts, grilled meats, seafood, salads, a giant tropical fruit platter and Australian cheese board and to finally finish the meal off–tea, coffee and the humble scone was served with King Island Dairy’s double cream and strawberry jam.

Waiting patiently to do as a sweet scone was born to do.

That is when the question first arose.

Why oh why are those mad Americans dipping our “for the end of the meal” scones into their “middle of the meal” roast beef and gravy, what kind of barbarity is this?

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Spaghetti Carbonara with Tomato and Basil

June 22, 2015 By Wozz Leave a Comment

“They stemmed the flow of my alcohol rich blood with the aid of a kitchen towel roll tied to my head with electrical tape and gave me a pint of Irish whiskey and waited until I passed out.”

There is something to be said about blue water sailing, to be amongst the elements far out to sea with the waxing and waning of the moon. Wooden boats and iron men as they used to say. Now much more plastic boats and plastic men, but the thrill is still the same. That being said, there is something pretty fantastic about being stuck in port for six months within walking distance of a pub and with not a guest to be seen. This is exactly how I finished yachting on what was to be one of my favorite gigs with an awesome bunch of people, siting at the dock in the birth place of pesto genovese or simply put, Pesto. In the Italian city of Genoa.

Now don’t go all “goo gah” on me because it’s Italy, like you guys seem to love to do. Spend enough time in Italy and you will quickly learn that nothing works, everyone is a con artist and its really hard to find a fekking salad. Unless slice tomatoes on a plate is your idea of salad then knock your socks off, book a flight cause the salads are awesome. So as Italian cities go Genoa is some what of a shit hole.

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Crispy Duck with Candied Orange Raspberry Sauce

“Are you thinking some Peking duck action from Chinatown right now?” So I get a call from a mate who lives down in Boston. Not a new mate, an old mate from my home town in Australia, we’ve known each other since we were kids. Him a couple years younger, my brothers age but he…

Oysters Kilpatrick

“These oysters couldn’t be any more American than if they were served in a pretzel roll with a pickle” Nothing says summer more than freshly shucked oysters and a crisp glass of Sémillon on a beach bar’s sun deck watching the Pacific Ocean. Yes it is an acquired taste. Yes they feel like cold salted…