at last, cherry dumplings

Those of you who have been reading this blog for a long time might remember how Sarah and I tried so many times to go and eat at Cafe Armenia, a restaurant we'd come across when eating Korean in Carnegie. As with all holy grail type quests, we had been rebuffed many times. This was a restaurant that seemed to think nothing of ignoring its own opening hours, or having private functions... anything to stop us getting in and trying all the morsels that tempted us on the menu: beans with walnuts and garlic, pickles, pancakes and of course, cherry dumplings.

But readers, you will be glad to know that your nights of the laminex table can rest now because on Thursday Cafe Armenia was open! I would like to state for the record, that this is the raddest restaurant in town. It was like eating in someone's lounge room. Picture a small shopfront cafe; folky paintings of Armenia (we guess) on the wall, some odd carved knicknacks, plastic tablecloths. The place looks like it's been there since the 60s, even though it's only been opened a year or two. Down one side there's a bench and shelves topped with plates, plates like your grandma might have had, with gold rims half worn off. A plasticy stereo. Up the back some old men and a woman rant at each other from separate tables. In the middle a family with one child eat some seriously meaty looking soup from a big tureen. And over all of this hangs a big black cloud smelling unmistakeably of barbecue. Yep, the perfect place for a hot date. Sarah and I almost wet ourselves with excitement that we were actually in there!

Before we ordered we were served a big plate of flat bread with a little jug of a salsa like red sauce. Very oniony and delicious. We ordered most of the vegetarian options, forgoing potato dumplings to leave room for cherry. I ordered a mineral water - they brought us a Coles brand 1.25l bottle. Food came really fast - a bowl of delicous red bean, walnut and garlic spread. Then a plate of mixed pickles - "hot" he warned us. "It's okay, we like hot." "Eat it", he urged. I nibbled an end and nodded my approval. He seemed satisfied that we were tough enough, and wandered off. Next came two pancakes - much like blintzes, they were rolled around a ricotta and sultana filling and crisply fried. Served with sour cream on top they were awesome. Then there was a big fat cabbage roll, full of rice and yummy things.

I worried we were getting full. But the unobtrusive (absent) service gave us plenty of time to digest. And finally we had enough room to order cherry dumplings. In Poland these would be described as pierogi, or in Russia, as pelmeni - basically they were little half moons of a pasta-like dough wrapped around a great cherry filling. There was bite, there was real cherry lumps, and flavour. Served with sour cream they were about as heavenly an end to this holy quest as we could have hoped for.

So viva the Armenians. I didn't know much about them - somewhere between the Middle East and Eastern Europe? Turns out it's kinda in the middle of Turkey, Iran, Georgia and Azerbijan. Prone to invasion like my poor Poland, but I guess there are culinary benefits to having all those armies passing through. You can tell at Cafe Armenia, that it must be a land where they've taken the best from all around them. Meat eaters would be very happy too - lots of crazy stews and swords of bbq meat. But we were rapt too. I think maybe divey is my favourite restaurant aesthetic and it only made me happier when Sarah went out the back to the toilet and reported that the kitchen was like a family one, complete with piles of boiled potatoes everywhere and an old lady with bright red lipstick and a ciggy hanging out of her mouth.

come fry with me...

Feeling oily? John Travolta is, and so am I.

"A deep fried party? Who's stupid idea was that?" That's what I was asked on Sunday. Well, I think it was mine. And it rocked.

Yes kids, on Saturday Bindy and I went through with our crazy plan to have a deep fry party. And although it was really nuts, I feel a strange sense of smug self-satisfaction. I fear it says something bad about my life that turning myself and a dozen friends into ill greaseballs is what gives me a sense of achievement.

We made heaps of yummy stuff. We fried. We ate. We drank beer. We clutched our bellies. We groaned. Then we went off and partied like maniacs, with lots of grease to soak up all the liquor. And I woke up feeling awesome on Sunday morning. So who said oil is so bad for you?



Here's the menu:

• Arancini - lemon risotto rolled around mozarella and then crumbed
  
• Crumbed eggplant sticks and mushrooms
  
• Beer battered cauliflower and broccoli
• Battered olives
• Crumbed camembert
• Parsnip and sweet potato chips
• Battered mini-Mars and Bounty bars
• Battered Tim Tams
  
• Pineapple and banana fritters

Oh, it seems like there was more than that. I dunno. There was great aioli, sambal and pickles. Oh yes, we did batter and fry a dill pickle too. Tim Tams didn't really work but the olives were surprisingly good. I was happy with the batter. The arancini were awesome, golden and crunchy, then ricey with gooey centres of mozarella. And I was very impressed with the Japanese "bread" crumbs I used - extra crunchy.

There wasn't as much crazy random deep frying as I thought - you know, people pulling things out of the fridge and battering them. But it was really fun gathering round Bindy's cute 70s deep fryer (strangely called "Cook n' Clean" even though it did no cleaning). Another culinary dream achieved... next stop, bomb alaska?

I just feel bad that Bindy's house smells like a chip shop.

come fly with me....

Well, it has been a mega crazy weekend. So much fun I feel quite manic... Among many exciting happenings was my first decorated cake experience.

It was Marion's 30th birthday party on Sunday so I offered to make a cake. I was shocked when she said that Andy, her "I can't cook" boyf, claimed to have it "under control."

The next day I had about 5 phone calls from Andy looking for help and advice. He wanted to do a cake that showed Marion in either a sports car or a plane and he was thinking of just buying cakes and icing from Safeway. "Safeway? Nooooo!" I screamed, knowing that Marion would be very unhappy to cut open her cake and find it bland and foamy. So I stupidly offered to make the cakes and help him put it together.

5 cake batters, 4 bowls of icing and hours of gruelling labour later we had a cake that looked a bit like a 5 year old had designed it.



But Marion and the crowd were suitably impressed and at least it tasted delicious. For the fusillage I used 3 lemon cakes and the icing was flavoured with fresh lime juice. The wings are a simple chocolate cake with a thick icing made from real chocolate. Luckily both the cakes were pretty solid and easily carved by Andy, who did do a good job of wielding the knife. And the punters were more than happy to gobble it all up, leaving things looking a little sad.



Making the cake made me realise how the woman in The Hoursfeels when she gets all the crumbs in her icing. I'm sooo not a perfectionist but I was incredibly frustrated by how the icing dripped everywhere, fell off and generally looked a bit wrong. Luckily we served the cake in a dimly lit bar. Still, this decorating business sure is hard work and it gave me a heap more respect for my old housie Nat, aka The Cake Lady (scroll down for a pic), who used to spend weeks putting together her detailed little cake sculptures.

If anyone wants to cake recipes let me know and I'll post them. I mainly chose them because they are really easy to make and quite firm, but they're definitely good stand-by cakes to have in your repertoire.

Prune and Whisky Cake

I'm not sure if I can convey how wonderful this cake is. It's amazingly moist, with a great springy texture and the glaze makes it glamourous and just sticky enough. Plus, springing out of my excellent new bundt/kugelhupf tin it looks amazing.

As I mentioned in my last post, I did have a few problems with people who have weird issues about prunes. I blame those bad American college movies where they make prune/laxative jokes. But I really doubt prunes have any more dietary effects than dried apricots - they just got a weird reputation. Anyway, maybe you should tell people it's a plum and whisky cake. Half the people at the party I took this to didn't even know that prunes are dried plums. Although maybe it's better to tell everyone what's in it and then there's more cake for those who don't have such stupid prejudices.

With that disclaimer done, may I heartily encourage you to make this cake - it is just so damn good and mine turned out perfectly risen and formed with very little effort.

Prune and Whisky Cake
(adapted from the excellent Moosewood Restaurant Book of Desserts)

For the cake you'll need:

• 2 cups pitted prunes
• 0.25 cup scotch whisky
• 2 cups water
• 0.75 cup vegie oil
• 1.5 cups packed brown sugar
• 4 large eggs
• 2 tsp vanilla
• 2.75 cups unbleached white flour
• 2 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp salt
• 0.5 tsp ground allspice
• 1 tsp ground nutmeg
• 1 tsp ground cloves
• 1 tsp ground cloves
• 0.5 tsp ground cardamon
• 2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 cup buttermilk (I used sour cream thinned with milk because that's what I had)

For the glaze you need:

• 1 cup sugar
• 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
• 0.25 cup more scotch
• 0.25 cup liquid from the prune cooking

In a small saucepan, combine the prunes, whisky and water. Simmer for 20 minutes or until the prunes are very tender. Drain, keeping the liquid. Coarsely chop the prunes and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 350F. Butter and flour a 10 inch bundt pan. Set aside.

In a large bowl, cream together the oil and brown sugar with an electric mixer. Add the eggs and vanilla and beat well. In a separate bowl, combine the flour and other dry ingredients. Add the flour mixture the batter, beating until well blended. Pour in the buttermilk and beat until just smooth. Fold in the chopped prunes.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for at least an hour (mine took 15 minutes more). If you stick a knife in it should come out clean. Now cool the cake in a pan for 10 minutes. Then invert onto a serving platter and cool for 15 minutes more - still in the tin. Then remove the pan.

To make the glaze - combine all ingredients in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Cook on medium-high heat for 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from the heat. Pierce the top of the cake with a skewer or toothpick in 10 places. Slowly pour the glaze over the cake, allowing it to soak in.

Serve to ooohs and aaahs. (with or without mentioning what's in it.)