We're championing fresh food that packs a flavour punch, from salads and vegetable-packed bowls to grains and light desserts.
Subscribe to Australian Gourmet Traveller and receive a free salt and pepper set - offer ends 26 March, 2017
Subscribe to Gourmet Traveller for your iPad or Android tablet.
Step away from the “dessert yoghurt", writes Will Studd. The real unadulterated thing is much more rewarding.
What happens the morning after the World’s 50 Best Restaurants awards? We treat the chefs to a world-beating yum cha session, as Dani Valent discovers.
Single-source honey putting community and sustainability next to sweetness.
More and more adventurous local winemakers are embracing Vermouth's botanicals, writes Max Allen.
Indonesia's Komodo National Park is home to staggering scenery and biodiversity. Michael Harden sets sail in a handcrafted yacht to explore its remote islands in pared-back luxury.
Cue the Champagne.
Australia saw some bold moves in the ’80s, and we’re not just talking hairstyles. Greater cultural references started peppering the menus of our restaurants, and home-grown ingredients won a new appreciation. The dining scene was coming of age and a new band of pioneers led the charge.
Leading chefs descend on Melbourne in April for The World’s 50 Best Restaurants. We asked local hospitality folk who they’d abduct for the day and where they’d take them to show off their city. There may be coffee, there may be culture, but in the end it’s cocktails.
Will your next baking project be a flaky puff pastry with pumpkin, goat's curd and thyme, or a classic bacon and Stilton tart? As autumn settles in, we're ticking these off one by one.
Baker extraordinaire Nadine Ingram of Sydney's Flour and Stone cooks up a sweet storm for Easter, including the much loved bakery's greatest hit.
Hobart is enjoying a wave of CBD restaurant openings. Add these to the top of your list.
Sydney’s Eleven Bridge to close. For real this time. Sort of. Again.
Whether baked into a bubbling crumble, caramelised in a puff-pastry tart or served in an all-American pie, apples are a classic filling for fruity desserts. Here are the recipes we keep coming back to.
Cue the Champagne.
Here, we've made the dough in a food processor, but it's really quick and simple to do by hand as well. If the dough seems a little too wet just add a little more flour.
Discussing the real issues faced by chefs and producers.
Fergus Henderson is happy to battle the elements for his
idea of a sizzling barbie. It's a primal theme.
Barbecue means different things to different folk. I myself instantly think of gathering driftwood on a Hebridean island (not so easy now that fish boxes and boats aren't made of timber any more), doing battle with the wind to light the fire and hoping the rain holds off. There's that threshold you reach when there's no turning back, even as clouds loom. In the Henderson family, wood is favoured over charcoal and chicken wings are the barbecuer's best friend, marinated in mayonnaise and cider vinegar. Soon the gathering around the fire becomes an impromptu forum where talk is free, with lots of red wine of a chirpy nature to lend its hand to proceedings.
Others may think of a rusting griddle on bricks in the back garden, which sits there looking unloved throughout the colder months, collecting leaves, fag butts and other such detritus. When the sun finally shines, what had been the hub of last summer's jolly lunches is a mere shadow of its former self, so a new brick structure is constructed on which the trusty rusty griddle is popped. Here is the barbecue health warning: even if you avoid getting lockjaw from said rusty griddle, you're not out of the danger zone yet.
Beware chicken that has been burnt to a cinder on the outside and left raw in the middle - a happy home for salmonella. I also think one should beware skimping on ingredients, buying scary chicken, thinking, "I can buy the really cheap stuff because the barbecue will give it flavour". Never buy a cheap chicken. You deserve to get ill - or at least grow breasts.
Then there is the kettle barbecue enthusiast who has removed any element of chance from the barbecue process. You have a lid to help you get your charcoal started, you can control the heat almost as well as on a stove, you can fit a further device on top of your kettle to turn it into a pizza oven (which I must admit is a rather nifty bit of kit - it works and it does make good pizza). But the barbecue is our chance to become early man again, taming fire. Hosted by the tight control of the kettle, the fire rather loses its sizzle.
I feel I should make a point before we go any further: Australia and barbecues are synonymous, but I am ashamed to say I have never been to a true Australian barbie, which is why I've not yet mentioned that particular cultural touchstone. I apologise. More familiar to me is Turkish barbecue. My brother-in-law comes from Glasgow, but if you put him behind a trough of burning coals he takes the Turkish stance, sitting on a wee stool turning kebabs - a much calmer scene than the sight we most commonly see with a gathering of males drawn to the fire like moths.
We haven't broached American barbecue, another thing altogether. The first time I came across it I had flown to Fort Worth, Texas, to start a book tour of the States. Now, that's quite a long flight, especially with bad food and too many gin and tonics. The sight of the immigration officer reeling from the gin fumes I was giving off was a memorable one. "What you need is a Texan barbecue!" said the person who greeted us, which I'm not sure would have been my prescription at that moment. You ordered dinner by weight: brisket, pulled pork, sausage and ribs, not to mention beans by the bucket. A meaty and emotional first introduction. The beer was so cold that it could've taken the skin off a man's hand.
Back home, my reputation as a purveyor of innards precedes me and I'm expected to show up at barbecues with a bucket of snouts, A3 sheets of tripe and skewered bulls' heads. Offal, of course, takes splendidly to the fire. Squares of ox heart, introduced to the flame for a mere minute each side and served in a bun with a pickled walnut dressing and a sharp salad, are a tender barbecue dream.
But in truth, on the wind-blown beach with the coals glowing, I'm just as happy with a sausage. Here the alchemy begins, transforming the rather anaemic pale pink bangers from the local butcher into frazzled offerings which, when popped into a bap with a big squirt of tomato sauce, hit the spot like nothing else. Fire in the hole!
Looking for recipes? Check out our barbecue recipes slideshow.
Sign up to receive the latest food, travel and dining news direct from Gourmet Traveller headquarters.
Corn is the perfect summer ingredient. Serve it simply grill...
Summer’s shaping up to be hot with our sizzling barbecue rec...
Everyone loves a summer barbecue (we're looking at you stick...
Nothing says summer like mangoes. Go beyond the criss-cross ...
Sausage rolls, vanilla slices and burgers with the lot: Aust...
Sign up to receive the latest food, travel and dining news direct from Gourmet Traveller headquarters.×