Our clean eating issue is out now, packed with super lunch bowls, gluten-free desserts and more - including our cruising special, covering all luxury on the seas.
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What is this heat going to ruin next?
We’re spoilt for variety – and value – in Australia when it comes to good riesling. Max Allen picks the top 20 from a fine crop.
As the '90s dawned, darling chefs were pushing the boundaries of cooking in this country. A young Christine Manfield, just starting out at this heady time, soon became part of the generation that redefined modern Australian cuisine. She shares some of her timeless signatures from the era.
To travel to Normandy along the Seine is to take it by stealth, writes Larissa Dubecki, who ventured forth in search of chateaux and Calvados.
Cirrus moves the Bentley team down to the water and into more lighthearted territory without sacrificing polish, writes Pat Nourse.
A vegetable patch without rocket lacks a great staple, according to Mat Pember. The perennial performer is a leaf for all seasons.
Massimo Bottura and more are coming to the Sydney Opera House.
Expect Mexican-Asian flavours and an all-natural wine list from two of Sydney’s edgier operators.
Counting down from 20, here are this summer's most-loved recipes.
The restaurant and hotel scene on Australia's favourite holiday island has never been more exciting and Australian chefs, owners and restaurateurs are leading the charge, writes Samantha Coomber.
"Think of this dessert as a deconstructed version of a summer pudding, with thinly sliced strawberries macerated in elderflower liqueur and layered between slices of brioche," says Stone. "A dollop of whipped cream on top is a cooling counterpoint to the floral flavours."
From an effortless tomato and ricotta herbed tart to Sri Lankan fish curries and chewy pork-and-pineapple skewers, these no-fuss recipes lend to relaxing on a humid summer's night.
Massimo Bottura and more are coming to the Sydney Opera House.
The Melbourne suburb lost some of its lustre in recent years, but is now bouncing back.
These baguette recipes are picture-perfect and picnic ready, bursting with fillings like slow-cooked beef tongue, poached egg and grilled asparagus and classic leg ham and cheese.
A hotdog is all about the condiments. Here, choose between a smoky red capsicum relish or the bright flavours of chimichurri, or go for a bit of both.
It was a whirlwind romance but she was swept off her seat.
Madeleine West spills on her life-changing Italian
Dean Martin is pumping from the speakers, the inch-thick menu boasts 43 pizzas with a minimum of 12 toppings each, and the "traditionale" dessert selection is really just 23 interesting interpretations of Nutella... The good folk at Urbanspoon must have been on autopilot when they recommended this joint, I think.
Bitter experience has taught me that should a restaurant bear the title "authentic" in its name or menu, it'll be anything but, so make your excuses and leave. Should the counter feature an extended glass cabinet groaning with gateaux that would shame Marie Antoinette's wig, exit immediately. Should you spy the kitchen sending out a pizza bearing pineapple, peri-peri sauce or tandoori anything, run.
All I want is a specials list determined by seasonality, not cheffy showmanship, nonna hand-rolling cannoli in the kitchen, and a grumpy barista muttering "Americano" should I dare order coffee with milk after noon.
Call me picky but, my fellow cuisine crusaders, as you well know, when you have partaken of true Italian, there's no going back. The days of delivery pizza are done.
It happened to me one summer in Venice. Burano to be specific, that gorgeous little isle on Venice's doorstep, famous for lace and its citizens' century-old penchant for using the entire Dulux colour chart when painting their houses. Local legend whispered of a dining institution on Burano, a seafood restaurant beyond compare, that harvested the treasures of the Venetian lagoon and the Adriatic, and organic produce sourced from its neighbouring islands to create the kind of dining experience that makes memories.
I was sceptical. After all, there was spag bol on the room service menu.
A short water-taxi ride and exorbitant fare brought us virtually to the doorstep of Il Gatto Nero, the black cat, which would cross my path, prove my undoing and spoil me for Italian food forever.
My epiphany began with prosecco - what else? - and the breaking
of bread, in this case slabs of warm, chewy ciabatta getting cosy
with puddles of bitey olive oil. Balsamic is tolerated but why
fiddle with perfection? A Soave Superiore Monte Ceriani marches
out, trumpeting an invigorating antipasto misti of razor clams,
comb shells and scallops pan-tossed in garlic, onion, a glug of
Chianti and fresh parsley. Hold the dish to your ear and I swear
you'll hear the sirens call, especially when morsels of baked
turbot join the fray.
With barely time to draw breath, let alone digest, a Bianco Trebbiano e Cococciola is mobilised by our diligent sommelier, Massimiliano, son of the chef and owner Ruggero Bovo, to best combat the flurry of lovingly made pasta about to arrive. We're helpless to resist.
Bigoli en salsa, a thick spaghetti tossed in sardines and onion, issues the first challenge, followed by the force of risotto Burano, made with local ghiozzi fish, and their famous tagliolini with spider crab and chilli making up the trifecta.
A well-rested Amarone arrives unbidden (didn't see that coming), heralding a deceptively simple seafood grill, difficult to fight, impossible to resist: cuttlefish, sardines, monkfish and scampi, ably backed up with a tangy mixed-leaf salad.
Sorely tested and having fallen at every culinary hurdle, we're threatened with a Tocai and that most clichéd of Italian desserts, tiramisù. I'm not sure whether it was the precise lines of liquor-addled cake fingers, the heady decadence of the mascarpone-rich cream, or the deep end-notes of grated couverture on top, but this particular example of the famous dessert was bellissimo - nay, amore at first sight. Yet its menu description as mere "espresso cake" was so humble, so underrated, such extreme understatement, I'm pretty sure I wept, and no one was choppin' no onions.
Perhaps it was dégustational overload but I suspect it was my old self, who was satisfied by a Hawaiian and a mid-price red, who wouldn't complain even though she knew the last ocean her marinara swam in was the brine in the bottom of a can, who could still sleep at night despite the presence of freeze-dried onions loitering in her pantry since Mr Whippy was the only food truck in town. That old me was slipping beneath the waves off the coast of Venice, defeated by one perfect meal with nary a scrape of Nutella in sight.
+ Actress Madeleine West stars as Danielle McGuire in Nine's new series Fat Tony & Co.
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