Get our Gourmet Fast app and you can download 140 recipes for your iPhone.
Subscribe or renew this month for 12 issues and receive a free Joseph Joseph Nest 7 set valued at $59.95! Offer ends 20 August.
Download the latest issue of Gourmet Traveller for your iPad.
Guillaume is finally ready for business.
’Tis the season to be roasting; how about something new to stick in the oven this Sunday?
With over five decades of combined experience, and 13 years working side by side, it’s no wonder these two are creating majestic, award-winning wines.
Taking two distinctly different paths into winemaking, Phil and Rochelle Kerney finally settled in Orange where they are making a big impact with chardonnay.
With no prior links to the wine industry, Nick Spencer signed up for a winemaking course and hasn’t looked back. After trotting the globe making wine he has now returned home to Canberra, where he is producing sublime drops.
Between her four children, a cellar door at Middleton Beach, annual vintages in the south of France and the selling, leasing and buying of vineyards, it’s remarkable Rose Kentish finds time to make any wines at all, let alone exceptional ones.
Tourism Australia has announced three chef ambassadors...
Shannon Bennett turns his focus to joggers and young families at his new French-Vietnamese eatery.
Looking for the best restaurants in Sydney? Here are the top ten Sydney restaurants from our 2014 Australian Restaurant Guide.
Dumplings to vanilla puffs – winter just took a turn for the better.
Korean cuisine - including the likes of bibimbap, bo ssam and mandu - is having its moment under the Australian sun right now. Get a taste with our collection of Korean recipes.
Wondering what’s on the menu in Australia’s best-loved international beach destination? Kendall Hill reports on the coolest places to eat, drink and make merry in Bali.
It's time for you to find a new go-to curry recipe. Here are 20 curries - from a Burmese-style fish version to a Southern Indian lobster number - we think you should try.
Everyone knows meat tastes better closer to the bone, especially when it's prepared in any of the 30 ways we've collected here just for you.
From soups to spiced-up sweets – we've got late winter covered.
I first realised that bouillabaisse was a big deal one late spring afternoon in the early 1980s, sitting in the homey dining room of a small hotel perched vertiginously on a cliff above the Mediterranean.
Bouillabaisse wasn’t a complete mystery to me at the time: growing up in southern California, I’d encountered something under that peculiar vowel-filled name a few times in local French restaurants, where it was a kind of stew in which mussels, clams, shrimp, and several kinds of white-fleshed fish lurked in a garlicky, saffron-tinted broth.
At this place in the Mediterranean, though, a mile or so east of Monaco in the village of Roquebrune-Cap-Martin, it turned out to be something else entirely. The experience began when Madame set a plate of dry (not toasted) baguette slices and a well-worn metal cauldron of steaming, slightly foamy reddish-brown broth down on the table. She disappeared for a moment, then returned with a tray bearing a mortar and pestle, a cruet of golden olive oil, a saucer bearing three peeled cloves of garlic, and little bowls containing an egg yolk, coarse salt, cayenne, and some threads of saffron. She scattered salt into the mortar, added the garlic, and began to crush it with the pestle, while pouring in a stream of oil. She next worked in the egg yolk, thickening the mixture into a dense paste. She added a pinch of cayenne, then crushed the saffron threads between her fingers into the mortar and gave it a final stir. “La rouille” she announced. Then she ladled broth into two wide, shallow bowls and said, “Put the rouille on the toast and the toast into the soup.”
Was this bouillabaisse? We followed her instructions. Where was all the fish? We had taken but a few bites of our soup – which was intensely flavoured, faintly spicy, and thoroughly delicious – when we got our answer. Madame’s husband – a cordial, white-haired, slightly rakish-looking gentleman – arrived bearing an immense free-form cork platter three feet across, on which was arrayed a fish market’s worth of sea creatures: elegantly streamlined salmon-red grondin (sea robin), luminescent wrasse, and spiky orange rascasse (scorpionfish; the one fish that is supposedly absolutely indispensible for bouillabaisse, we later learned), all whole; fleshy conger eel steaks; the muddy-hued little crabs the French call étrilles; a scattering of mussels…
As we ate our soup, the patron went to work, laboriously boning and shelling everything before our eyes – the process took almost half an hour – and arranging it on a platter. When at last he set his handiwork down on the table, we were hungry with anticipation and just plain peckish. He cleared our soup bowls, set down large plates in their place, and gestured theatrically. “Voilà,” he said. We dug in, expecting an epiphany. What we got was a bunch of boiled seafood, obviously very fresh and of good quality, but, well, boiled. Oh, and fearsomely expensive.
There is almost certainly no fish dish of any kind that is more celebrated, written about, argued over, and laden down with folderol and fable than bouillabaisse. Nobody knows for certain when this epic concoction – native to coastal Provence and particularly to the stretch between Marseilles and Toulon – was invented, or by whom, but seafood cooked in a pot full of water is probably as old as pots themselves. References to fish stews appear in ancient Greece and Rome; according to a Roman legend, Venus fed one to Vulcan, her husband, to lull him to sleep so that she could get up to no good. Curnonsky, the so-called Prince of Gastronomes, on the other hand, maintained that bouillabaisse was brought from heaven by angels to feed shipwrecked saints. Rather more prosaically, the engineer JA Ortolan wrote, back in 1891, that bouillabaisse was invented, and named, by a fisherman named Conradi, from St-Raphaël, about 150 kilometres east of Marseille.
Though the specifics are highly suspect,