Chile Peppers
Page 29
“So how goes the show?” I asked Robynne, the editor and publisher of The Chilli Press and producer of the third annual Australian National Fiery Food Festival. It was the final event in the three-week-long Feast of Sydney promotion.
Robynne shrugged. “Things could be better in Oz” (Oz being the Aussie nickname for their country).
Customs House, Circular Quay, Sydney, location of the Australian National Fiery Foods Festival. Photograph by Greg O’Beirne. Wikimedia, GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2.
Uh-oh, I thought, the show-production instincts in my brain on alert, “What’s wrong?”
It turned out that the problems had to do with the venue itself. The show was being held in the ground-floor lobby at the old Customs House. It is located at the Circular Quay (pronounced “key,” the traditional British pronunciation), which is the main wharf for the commuter ferries and a major train station as well. In a city of nearly four million people, it was about as central a location as one could find. But it wasn’t designed for shows. And the city government, which owned the building, was not cooperating.
“They won’t let me do cooking demonstrations in the building,” Robynne said, “and I’ve got the biggest star of Mexican cooking performing—Diana Kennedy.”
“Why not?”
“Against their policy—that’s all they’ll say.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Erect a tent outside on the plaza for the cooking demos—that’s all I can do.”
“But what about crowd control?” I asked. “They’ll have to present ticket stubs to get into the tent.”
“Not to worry,” Robynne replied. “We’re not allowed to sell tickets.”
“What?”
Robynne explained that since it was a public building, with three restaurants and numerous galleries, she was not allowed to charge admission to the show in the lobby. She could, however, asked for a “gold coin donation” (a $1 or $2 gold coin, worth about US 60 cents or $1.20, respectively) and charge admission to the cooking tent and to my slide-show lectures.
“At least they’re not charging me rent,” she said. “And I’m not spending much on advertising because you’re here to get me all this free publicity, starting this afternoon.”
The Media Blitz
Jet-lagged or not, I was scheduled for a book signing and lecture at Collins Booksellers, the equivalent of a Barnes & Noble store in the States. Robynne showed me an article promoting the signing from the Sydney events magazine Where. The blurb described me as a “famous American chef” and an “acclaimed author” in the same sentence.
“But I’m not a chef at all, much less a famous one,” I protested.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Robynne ordered.
The book signing went surprisingly well. About 25 people showed up, and while Robynne made three or four salsas, I gave my talk on chiles and fiery foods and soon learned from the responses that there was a strong chilehead contingent in Australia—and that my books were as popular among those as they were among their American counterparts. Not only did these fans buy books at Collins, they also brought their dog-eared copies of The Pepper Garden for me to sign. I had a great time and by 4:30 p.m. it was time to go. As we left the mall, the sky had darkened significantly. There were no clouds. I checked my watch again. What was going on? Then I realized that we had traveled from the longest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere to the shortest one in the Southern Hemisphere.
The week of the show was a blur of activities—press conferences, radio and television appearances, and newspaper interviews—as I worked hard to earn my keep and promote the festival. In between these events, we managed to do touristy things like buy superb aboriginal art in shops at the Rocks, stroll through the enormous—and beautiful—Botanical Gardens, visit the Taronga Zoo, tour the famous Sydney Opera House, and shudder when totally surrounded by those Great Barrier Reef predators in the shark tunnel at the aquarium.
Apparently the festival publicity was working, because there were more media messages every evening at the Radisson Kestrel, after we returned by ferry from the Circular Quay. The buzz was building.
The Australian Scovies
The heat was building as well, for I was one of the judges of the Australian Fiery Food Challenge, held at the Customs House before the show. It was a blind tasting with the labels of the products obscured as with our Scovie Awards in the US. The judges were mostly media people who cover food. More than a hundred products were entered, and they were generally of good quality, with a notable sweetness as compared to the US products—apparently the Aussies have quite a sweet tooth. There were two excellent salsas and a number of tasty chutneys. I made a noble attempt to taste every one of the products, but I made a crucial error: I tasted the habanero hot sauces before the group of “regular” hot sauces. I was so burned out that not only could I not finish the tasting but I felt dizzy and flushed—definitely a victim of an endorphin rush.
The grand-prize winner was the Byron Bay Chilli Company, and they won, among other prizes, a booth in the 13th annual National Fiery Foods Show in Albuquerque, March 2–4, 2001, and they promised me they’d be there. And they were.
A SPICY DIVERSION
At the tasting, we were delighted to meet Carol Selva Rajah, a noted Australian food writer and cookbook author. She promptly adopted us and gave us a copy of her latest book, Makan-lah!: The True Taste of Malaysia. One of her projects during the Taste of Sydney was to produce the Batavia Rijsttafel Banquet, a 14-course spice dinner held at the National Maritime Museum. Because of our intense interest in spices of all kinds, she really wanted us to attend this exclusive dinner. The main problem was that the museum had sold all the tickets in a matter of hours and there were no seats left. So Carol gave me her seat at the banquet! Unfortunately, there was no room for Mary Jane, so she was on her own back in Manly while I hobnobbed with the museum elite.
Cocktails and starters were served aboard the Batavia, a full-size reproduction of the original Dutch spice ship that wrecked off the coast of Western Australia in 1629. It was moored at the museum, and I was fascinated to go aboard the remarkable replica. The ship was built by the Dutch government (it took 10 years) and was transported to Sydney for the Olympic celebrations aboard a floating-dock ship, and then was released to cruise into Sydney Harbor under sail, accompanied by fireworks and the booming of its own cannons. Sipping on a Heineken (what else?), I went down the ladders to the spice-storage deck and was amazed how cramped it was, with ceilings only about five feet off the deck. Here, the sacks of spices were stored—black pepper, long pepper, nutmeg, mace, cloves, and cinnamon. The sailors—all 300 of them—slept among the spice sacks because of the lack of room on the 193-foot-long ship.
Replica of the spice ship Batavia. Photograph by Malis. Wikimedia. I, the copyright holder, release this work into the public domain.
Carol did a superb job with the banquet and my seating. On my left was Christine Salins, the food editor of the Canberra Times, and on my right was a retired radio-comedy writer. The wines, from Rosemount Estate, were great and readily consumed as course after course of spicy food arrived. The feast was a bit overwhelming, and I had to pace myself when trying something particularly tasty and spicy, like the rendang bambu sapi, her beef and chile dish loaded with spices, and the sambal goreng udang kering, a delicious prawn sambal. In between courses, I discussed the spicy-food movement in Australia with Christine, and the comedy writer explained the finer points of rugby and Australian-rules football. I hadn’t been in Australia a week yet, but I felt right at home. It didn’t hurt that, in addition to socializing, I was reading Australian newspapers and magazines and watching TV.
A day later, Carol took us to Cabramatta, a town outside Sydney where many of the Asian immigrants live. It was rather like being in Singapore, with Vietnamese soup shops, Cambodian discos, Chinese grocery stores, and Thai herb shops. We all ate the Vietnamese beef soup called pho with chilli-garlic sauce, a
nd it was unforgettably good. Carol also took us to one of the largest distributors of Indian food, herbs, and spices in Australia, and she referred us to Herbie’s Spices in nearby Rozelle. Herbie—or rather Ian Hemphill—recognized me because he sells dried chiles in addition to literally dozens of varieties of spices. It was there that I bought the wild spicy mountain pepper that is gaining in popularity in Australian gourmet circles.
Show Time
The immigration of Asians has helped spread fiery foods across the country. One of the biggest influences on fiery food in Australia has been the introduction and spread of habaneros. They are now second in popularity to the Asian varieties. Exhibitor Geoff Love likes to tell the story that he got into the fiery foods business because he couldn’t find a good Thai garlic-chilli-ginger sauce, so he had to make his own.
It’s always fun greeting the exhibitors at a show, and this one was particularly interesting because I’d never actually met any of these chile lovers, although I had exchanged e-mails with some of them. Geoff Love, of Love’s Pantry, manufactures a line of 40 different products, of which 28 are chilli-oriented. The spicy products are his BHM brand, which stands for “Bloody Hot, Mate!” Formerly in advertising and marketing, jovial Geoff told me that his products are selling well because they are distributed to both supermarkets and specialty food shops. Business is good, he said, because Australians are becoming more aware of chillis and the food that goes best with them.
Carol Selva Rajah and the author eat pho in Cabramatta. Photograph by Mary Jane Wilan. Used with permission.
An aerial view of the festival. Photograph by Mary Jane Wilan. Used with permission.
John Boland, the owner of Byron Bay Chilli Company and the winner of the grand prize in the Australian Fiery Food Challenge, is a transplanted American who emigrated from southern California in the 1980s and started making salsa in 1993. He was previously a caterer, so it was easy to transfer his experience to the manufacturing sector. He has about a dozen products, including a Black Bean Salsa, which is one of the ones I preferred at the tasting. John told me that the fiery foods industry in Australia is expanding rapidly, and that during the last three or four years his business has grown dramatically. John and I have stayed in touch for nearly 20 years, and I helped him find distribution in the US. He exhibited again in our 2019 National Fiery Foods and Barbecue Show.
A REAL CHILLI WINE
One of the most interesting and unusual chilli products we found was a chilli wine from the ominously named but fully flavorful Disaster Bay Chilli Company. Every chile wine I’ve tasted in the US simply had some chile—green, red, or jalapeno—added to grape wine. But Stuart Meagher and his partner, John Wentworth, have developed a technique for making wine from fermented chillis. They got the initial recipe from an Aboriginal tribesman named Old Didler and experimented with it by using jalapeños, ‘Big Jim’ New Mexican chiles, fresh cayennes, and a few habaneros thrown in. They used a French yeast and added a little sugar since chillis don’t have the high sugar content of grapes. The resulting chilli wine tasted like a good dessert wine, with a noticeable bite, and I thought it was rather good. So did the public who tasted it during a talk I gave on chilli beverages.
They make the wine in a temperature-controlled cellar, and it takes about 660 pounds of chillis to make 2000 liters of wine, which is aged for one year in barrels. The wine was entered in a wine festival in the town of Bega, where it was judged according to Australian wine-making criteria, and it won a Bronze Medal. They use the chilli byproducts of wine making to create their other products, which are hot sauces and chutneys.
The third annual Australian National Fiery Food Festival was a rousing success and the crowds were so large on Sunday that it was difficult to move around in the hall. The exhibitors were happy with the attendance, and as often happens during a show, the initial problems faded away. The cooking demonstrations went well, with many of the national magazines sending their food writers to watch Diana Kennedy and Carol Selva Rajah cook on stage. Attendance at my slide shows increased steadily throughout the show, and I was happy to discuss chillis with the attendees, sign books, and help them identify the pods they brought with them.
Our final evening in Australia was spent with Robynne and Wayne at Red Gum, a restaurant in Manly that served what might be called gourmet bush food. We did a post-show analysis and all were convinced that fiery foods are not only here to stay in Oz but probably will become a major food movement. Robynne asked if we would be interested in returning for the show the following year, and we enthusiastically said yes. After all, we didn’t even get to go crocodile hunting!
An exhibitor shows off his hot sauce. Photograph by Mary Jane Wilan. Used with permission.
On the flight back, we landed before we left and recovered the Friday we had lost on the way to Oz. That’s right—we took off from Sydney Airport at 9:30 a.m. on Thursday and landed at LAX at 6:30 a.m. the same day. Now that’s a fast plane!
FEATURED CHILE PEPPER: ‘FACING HEAVEN’
The Chinese name of this variety of chile pepper (C. annuum var. chao tian jiao) literally means “skyward-pointing chile pepper” because the pods are erect rather than pendant. The plant’s upright growing habit is typical of ornamental peppers, yet this pepper is grown for culinary use. The plants grow bushy and are high yielding. The pods are cone shaped, between three and six centimeters in length, and one to two centimeters in diameter at the base, and they have a very thin skin. They have a slight lemon flavor, and the heat averages 40,000 SHU. They are a staple in Sichuan cooking.
The pods are used both fresh and dried, and often entire pods will be added to various Sichuan dishes such as kung pao chicken. There are often used in conjunction with Fagara, the Sichuan peppercorn that has a numbing effect on the mouth. Both the seeds and the pods are available from online sources.
recipes
Beef and chicken satay. Photograph by Libin Jose. iStock.
CHICKEN AND BEEF SATAY WITH SPICY PEANUT SAUCE
yield
8 servings
heat scale
hot
This recipe, by Chef Abdul Wahab of the Equatorial Penang Hotel in Penang, Malaysia, is a classic Malay dish that combines the heat of chiles with the nutty taste of peanuts and the exotic fragrances of the Spice Islands. Note: This recipe requires advance preparation.
THE MARINADE
4
large pieces of ginger, peeled
5
cloves garlic, peeled
3
shallots, peeled
1
teaspoon cumin seeds
1
teaspoon anise seeds
1
tablespoon ground turmeric
3
pieces lemongrass
2
teaspoons sugar
1
pound boneless chicken, cut into strips
Combine the first 8 ingredients in a food processor and puree, adding a little water if necessary. Marinate the chicken and beef strips in this mixture for 12 hours.
THE PEANUT SAUCE
½
cup red chile paste (or red chiles pureed with water)
¼
cup peanut oil
5
cloves garlic, peeled and minced
3
shallots, peeled and minced
3
pieces lemongrass, minced
3
large pieces ginger, peeled and minced
2
tablespoons poppy seeds
4
tablespoons minced cashews
¼
cup minced peanuts
1
teaspoon tamarind paste (optional)
2
teaspoons sugar
Diced cucumbers and onions for garnish
Heat the peanut oil in a pan and add the chile paste and the next 6 ingredients. Simmer for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the remaining ingredients and simmer for an addition
al 5 minutes.
TO ASSEMBLE
Thread the chicken and beef strips on separate satay sticks that have been soaked in water. Grill the satay sticks over coals until the meats are done, about 10 minutes, turning often.
Serve the satays with the sauce on the side and garnished with diced cucumbers and onions.
ROYAL THAI BEEF CURRY
yield
4 to 6 servings
heat scale
hot
This recipe was a favorite of King Rama V, who reigned in Thailand from 1869 to 1910. It is tasty, rich, and very spicy, and should be served over hot cooked rice or cooked Thai noodles.
½
cup thick coconut milk
1
tablespoon fish sauce
1
tablespoon brown sugar
2 ½
cups coconut milk
1 ½
pounds beef, sliced thinly across grain into 1-inch pieces
1
cup eggplant, cubed