Rhythm, rhythm, rhythm...

Classic chocolate mousse.
Dedicated from afar to my friend, DB.

When the rhythm is absent, life clunks along with no grace.  It's a gravel road, a long length of turbulence, an ocean liner thrown heedlessly about by the waves.  I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one out there who, in such periods, momentarily, petulantly assumes that THE REST OF MY LIFE WILL BE LIKE THIS!  It's terrible, untenable, violent...  Sure as anything, though, couple of deep breaths and the passing of a little time bring forth the things inside you that were hiding from the quake- the poise, the cheer, the balance that the outside world can't really chase away, not at its core.  The joy, my favorite.  After a couple of rhythmless weeks, I find myself better grounded in those things than before I came, and grateful for the challenge that pointed them out to me so clearly.

Chicken liver crostone with marinated capsicums and arugula.

Salad of chilled mussels with shaved fennel, haricots verts, saffron and Pernod.

I am learning about some fabulous New Zealand products-- the dairy, the farmed salmon (don't hate me, don't hate me, don't hate me), THE MUSSELS and oysters and clams and Nelson scallops.  I already mentioned the eggs, but they bear another reference.  We have a relationship with a marvelous farmer named Rosemary, who supplies us with beautiful arugula, fennel, red onions and mixed lettuces.  The guys, AJ and Mark, in the butcher shop are two of the nicest people I've ever had the pleasure of doing business with.  I know where stuff comes from now, I know that I'm equipped to make the decisions, orders and last-minute calls required of me.  And at the end of all of those logistics?  Inspired, inspiring cooking.  Cooking that I love as much as I love anything on earth.  My work.

Roast salmon with fennel, fried potatoes and Umbrian-style salsa verde.

Demitasse goes abroad...

This is what I see every morning from the kitchen window of my farmhouse.  Birds are chirping, deer
are meandering through one's peripheral vision.  I'm not even joking.

       I've been an errant blogger for a few weeks now... but I return with a bang!  A wacky opportunity fell into my lap, and I was in a position to jump on it.  The end result?  I shook on a temporary work contract that gave me SEVEN DAYS to domytaxesappearintrafficcourt(speedingticket,grrr)hound

myneighbortoreimbursemeforhavingTOWEDMYCARfrommyownparkingspotvisitmyfamilygetfourmonths'birthcontrol(goodluckwithcobrainsurance)seemydoctorapplyforavisapackmybags and move to New Zealand to be the temporary chef for a luxury, 12-room treehouse lodge on the south island.  No kidding.  I mean, who can do that?  Turns out, in clean-slate-2011, I can.  

       The first two weeks have been brutal, actually... I've worked 12-15 hours a day since the day I arrived, minus today, when I slept in and rolled into work at noon.  I've been spread pretty thin, learning a new system, dealing with a new staff, new vendors, new, sometimes wonky equipment, new vegetables (literally, I met a squash the likes of which I never even considered might exist before...), and a very demanding production schedule.  We produce all of our own: breads, danish, croissants, crackers, cookies, pickles, cured seafood products... all of this in addition to the nightly three-course menu that is my creative focus.  This is all awesome, but did I mention that in one week, I'll be one of two kitchen employees here (at the moment, I'm one of three)?  Not that I'm complaining (okay, two days ago I was complaining...), I'm increasingly bolstered and goaded and kindled by the challenge.  Let's all hope that spirit continues to rally. 

   

        New Zealand is, hands down, one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen.  I have scores of photos of the scenery... which I'll not bore you with.  We have a productive greenhouse and garden here, every herb you could imagine, and as previously mentioned, HERDS AND HERDS of deer in paddocks.  I'm encouraged by the owner, Tony, to seriously consider running venison as the red meat... and I'm pretty sure that before my tenure is up, I will.  The cast of characters here is pretty unbelievable-  Ron, the groundskeeper, is an inspiring and deeply knowledgable green-thumb, and I guarantee he'd shoot and skin me a couple of deer if I asked him too.  I'm going to come back wizened and worldly, with the blood of multitudes on my paws.  Consider yourselves forewarned. Enough of all this text.  Where's the food?  Oh, friends of mine, there's been so.much.food.  And we're off:

A menu.  Translation:  In NZ, Scotch = Ribeye.  Crayfish = Spiny Lobster.  Silverbeet = Chard.
You're telling me...

Here we do a daily amuse bouche, new to me... although with my penchant for little things, how am I not going to love that?  This is my favorite so far- a half a cooked creamer potato, hollowed out, deep fried, and filled with creamed monkfish and spinach.  There are shallots, white wine and nutmeg involved as well... it was GOOD.                                                          

Cream of celeriac and new potato soup- lemon agrumato, chives and chive blossoms.
And my shadow.  Sorry, folks, I'm a chef, not a photographer!

Ravioli of Canterbury lamb.  

Salad of marinated salmon with shaved fennel, pickled beet, cucumber and mussels, with a shallot-tarragon cream.

Hazelnut-crusted pork loin with sautéed apples and arugula.  Which they call "rocket".  Wayyy edgier.

Grilled "scotch" (refer to translation notes, above [should I start footnoting my posts?]) with braised red cabbage, creamer potatoes and mushroom-red wine butter.  The beef is really, really good!

And now for, SURPRISE!, my favorite part!  The pastry menu!  I have no formal pastry training, and not a big sweet-tooth, but I've always been deeply drawn to the sweet side, and am enjoying working on this part of the menu very much.  So much so that I'm going to do some staging in pastry kitchens when I get home!  Mmmm, doughs of any and all kinds.  I'm SO SO SO into it.

Chocolate-walnut tart with caramelized orange.  Crumbly walnut crust, chocolate gananche flood, a candied orange slice laid atop as soon as the ganache begins to set up, and a simple pile of toasted walnuts to finish.

Poached pears

                                   

                                                                 PUFF!  Ain't it though?

And, together, they come in this dessert:  Crème anglaise (it's that color JUST from the amazing eggs here... the cheapest eggs you could buy at the supermarket have yolks that are the orangest  [I know it's not a word- but I kinda like it!] thing you've ever seen.  SERIOUSLY.) Okay, focus, Kelsey.  Again:  Crème anglaise with poached pears, plumped cranberries and their ruddy syrup, and a couple of crisp diamonds of puff pastry.
And a mint leaf or two.  I mean, they're in the garden!

       There's also been:  Monkfish brandade, a rockin' poultry liver shmoo served in a quenelle atop marinated red peppers (called "capsicums" here) with garlicky toast and an arugula salad, some beautiful fish dishes, an eggplant(aubergine), zucchini(courgette), tomato and basil tian served with poached eggs and finished with pesto and parmesan, Sicilian-style (saffron, hot pepper, currants) stuffed chard(silverbeet) leaves, strawberry-rhubarb shortcakes, chocolate mousse... and probably other stuff that I've lost the ability to recall.  There's some hecka good cooking happening here, and a TON of learning- about myself as much as about anything at all, and that is always a marvelous gift.  Keep it comin', world!