Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Safari Camp Kitchen


Last November, we had a week in Kenya. Looking forward to the safari adventure, I did have somewhat lower expectations when it came to food. I mean, what can you cook in a tented camp deep in bushland with no power source other than solar? Well, it turns out you can create quite a feast on solar powered and charcoal-heated (or chilled - read on) kitchen appliances!

We arrived at the Amboseli Porini Camp after a long drive from Nairobi. The last hour or so had been a bumpy one on the dirt roads of the bush plains. Despite the rattled bones, we were excited and all smiles. It had been an amazing drive as well, with a landscape ranging from urban to mountainous, alternating with vast plains where cattle grazed and wildlife roamed. Verdant green at times, mostly it had been arid dry. We stopped for a toilet break at a roadside cafe. On the menu was chicken, they said. I had guessed as much from the fresh-plucked feathers fluttering from the kitchen I passed on my way to the dark washroom in the back. We pressed on as "lunch would be served at the camp". Once deep in bushland, a giraffe suddenly appeared on the track. It stared at us just as surprised as we were to see him.

The camp looked so inviting, I instantly wanted to stay forever. Private, spacious and well-furnished canvas tents (each with its own verandah and en-suite bathroom) stood scattered around the bush. The mess tent was furnished with lounge sets, wooden dining tables and chairs, and a buffet for drinks. An open and airy camp, with a spot dedicated for evening camp fires and another to swing leisurely listening to the birds. And birds do abound in this area. In all colors and plumage, they chip and chirp all day long.
the safari camp kitchen
Lunch was served at the big, square dark-wood table outdoors in the shade of umbrellas. We sat down and met some other people staying at this tented camp. A chilled avocado soup came. Made with Kenyan avocados that had been allowed to ripen properly (unlike the ones I get here in Dubai). I could taste the full flavor of a beautiful ripe avocado. Prepared with fresh lemon juice and simple seasoning it turned out a delicious and refreshing summer soup (it was hot in the Amboseli).

The main lunch was buffet style. Carrot salad, beet salad, tomato salad, couscous salad, and grilled pork with a light tomato-based sauce. For dessert a baked custard pie with orange sauce. The standard for bush camp food was set. Similar feasts would be ready for us at game drive picnics and evening dinners. Butternut soup, fresh cream of broccoli, beef stew, roast chicken, grilled chicken sandwiches (the chef baked his own bread), cakes and pies. Nutritious, balanced, and tasty. I went looking for the chef. I wanted to see that kitchen.
the pantry inside the charcoal chiller
Charcoal Chiller
What I found was a camp kitchen: the real thing. Under a canvas tent was a large preparation table surrounded by a stove, a fridge, a sink, and racks with pots, pans, and other kitchen utensils. Just outside the tent was a three-tiered oven. It ran on charcoal (some of which was scooped with care from the remains of a campfire). Across was another open tent with several sinks and tables. For dishwashing. And then: the charcoal chiller. A shed covered with a thick layer of charcoal. The charcoal is watered until soaked in the morning. The soaked charcoals provide a layer of isolation that keeps the inside of the shed cool throughout the day. I peeked inside, and sure enough it was a properly chilled pantry full of fresh vegetables and fruits. I vaguely picked up that they also used ground coffee pulp to make charcoal, but I was distracted by the chef sticking a strawberry cake into the charcoal-heated oven.
On a visit to a nearby Maasai village, we were introduced to the "Maasai Fridge" (it was said jokingly). A Maasai lady was cleaning a large calebash, or bottle gourd. Using a hot coal on a stick, she scraped it meticulously along the inside of the calebash. This method seals the inside and sterilizes the bottle gourd. Once ready for use, the narrow opening goes over the cow's teat and the warm milk goes straight into the "fridge". Sealed off at the top, the milk will keep for three days inside the bottle gourd.

A young Maasai warrior lives on a diet of milk, meat and blood, our guide told me. Milk is also used to make ugali, a corn-based staple similar to polenta. Cooked thick enough to roll into small balls between your fingers, it is perfect to mop up sauce from your plate.

We stayed only two nights at the Amboseli Porini Camp as we moved on to another Porini camp in the Maasai Mara. We saw the greenhouses where flowers are grown, Kenya's big export product. Came down the escarpment on a road built by Italian prisoners of war in the 40s. Crossed the Great Rift Valley. And arrived at the Mara Porini Camp just in time for a light lunch of various salads and a quiche. The feast of tasty and healthy food continued. A picnic lunch on the high plains of the Mara, after we saw a leopard flex its muscles coming down the tree where it had been sleeping. Sundowner nibbles with lions chasing something uncomfortably close by. Fresh pineapple crumble for dessert. I tip my hat to those camp kitchen cooks!
the hot water tank

Thursday, December 8, 2011

A Hot Spot @ Table 9

It is hardly a surprise that Table 9 is rapidly moving towards "best of Dubai". Chef team Scott Price and Nick Alvin already made a name for themselves when the place was still Verre, and under the long-distance rule of Gordon Ramsay. If you've been to Verre before it closed, you know these guys can cook.

They have their own fine dining philosophy and bring it to both menu and restaurant style. Aiming for a relaxed dining experience serving top of the line food.

"Share the plates" is part of this philosophy. You don't have to, but the kitchen is ready if you are. Gorgeous plated creations are placed center-table and each diner gets a stylish small (and warmed!) plate for tasting. We share.

Yes the food is to die for, and displaying incredible craft and creativity. Pork knuckle (that tough big fat piece of bone-in meat) is skillfully trimmed into an elegant and even-shaped little "loin" with the thinnest yet crunchiest crackling. Its heartiness off-set against a ground cucumber relish, with flash-fried tarragon to round it all off. A soft-boiled egg in a crispy panko-crust interacts heavenly with porcini in three ways: a lick-your-plate puree, fresh ones, and shaved slivers of dried porcini. Stuffed saddle of rabbit over homemade quince-based piccalilli. An addictive combination of curried sweetbreads and applewood-smoked chestnuts. Sea bass with periwinkle sauce (poor kitchen staff who had to tooth-pick these little sea "worms" out of their tiny shells). And a pickled piece of salsify turned so perfectly, it resembles a breadstick. Do I go on? About the quail with its truffle and artichoke terrine? Or the venison with its crisp celeriac polenta cubes and blackberry compote? Actually, looking at the dollop of blackberries, I instantly find myself back in memory on a wilderness trail in Alaska one time, when an equally fresh looking pile of steaming blackberries alerted us to the fact that a bear was near. Obviously, I mean to say the dish conjured up images of wilderness, the great outdoors on a plate.

Pricing is straight-forward and incredibly fair. Small plates 70dhs, large plates 100dhs. Two small ones each, and one large one is recommended. We had an additional large plate, deciding to forego the dessert selection (which come at 55dhs). There are two set menus offering 6 or 7 tastings, one is a dedicated vegetarian menu. What's more, the wine list (so often notoriously over-priced in Dubai) offers a very attractive range of open wines at reasonable prices. The restaurant offers some 40 open wines. Considering they also do half-glasses, you are looking at an open invitation to do a bit of wine and food pairing made fun!

Table 9 has a young and dynamic team, both in the kitchen and front-of-house. No doubt they have many plans up their sleeves to develop the place up and beyond. I for one am back first chance. To sample the vegetarian menu, as I am sure it'll be mind-blowingly good. Anyone joining me?








Monday, December 5, 2011

A Taste of Canada @ the Fairmont Bab al Bahr

When opportunity knocked to sample a menu built around products from Canada, I jumped! Literally, for mouthwatering joy. And off I was, to the The Fairmont in Abu Dhabi for a coast-to-coast-and-everything-in-between tasting of Canada. Scallops and lobster from Nova Scotia. Albacore tuna from Canada's Pacific waters. A beautiful piece of sablefish (black cod), subtly smoked with a glaze that revealed a touch of maple syrup and garnished with chantarelle mushrooms. Tender fillets of beef, bison and elk. Magic made with maple syrup in a stunning dessert. And a selection of artisanal cheeses from Quebec show-casing a superb skill and quality in cheese-making. Until December 18, the Fairmont Bab al Bahr in Abu Dhabi will feature some of these courses as specials in the restaurants onsite.

On the menu also was "poutine". Poutine is an ultra-popular (Northern American) fast food that originated in Quebec. There is no confirmed definition as to the origin of the word, although most explanations point to a "frenchification" of the word pudding. Whatever the origin of the word, the dish itself was created in the 50s. I so see that before me. Poodle skirts and messy fries. Poutine is French fries topped with cheese curd and brown (beef) gravy. Ignoring any mass-produced versions, poutine is a nice enough snack to be enjoyed from a roadside "casse-croute" (at least, before the fries cool off and sogginess prevails).

It takes one talented chef to turn the basics of poutine - fries, gravy, cheese - into a dish that shoots you straight into the exosphere of gastronomic delight. Fairmont Bab al Bahr's executive chef John Corteaux did just that. I am still dreaming drooling dreams of his poutine. He served us the crispiest thick-cut fries stacked in a tower (style Pommes Pont Neuf: thick French fries so named after the famous Parisian bridge, and often served stacked as a bridge pillar). Triple-fried, as chef Corteaux explained later, these thick and super crunchy potato fries were towering on the most tender and delicious braised veal cheek, it's braising jus reduced to a rich and silky sauce. Gently melting onto this divine creation was a piece of artisanal cheese from Quebec: douaniere, which refers to the border (with the US) where it is produced.

Chef Corteaux's poutine was outrageously good, and if not for other courses to follow, I would have begged for more. In fact, the entire meal was one to remember. Each and every course was beautifully prepared with finesse and with flavors balanced and well-built. It would have put Canada on the culinary map for me... if it wasn't already prominently there!