Public Address: Feed

World of Food 8: Antigua and Barbuda - Breakfast saltfish

Amberleigh Jack — Tue, 26 Jun 2018 11:13:00 +1200

This week began with the best intentions. Having been off work following ankle surgery, the plan was creativity, productivity and loads of time in the kitchen.
Painkillers and crutches aren’t the best mix when it comes to anything more than watching awful TV and feeling sorry for yourself. I’m pretty mobile in the moonboot now though, so good to go.
Back in the Caribbean with Antigua and Barbuda this week, I found myself intrigued by a popular dish, eaten during their national Carnival (which commemorates the abolition of slavery in the British West Indies), of cold pig feet soup. It…

World of Food 7: Anguilla – Jerk chicken

Amberleigh Jack — Tue, 05 Jun 2018 16:14:00 +1200

My Dad loved his coffee strong and his food spicy enough to make him sweat.
That’s what I remember a lot when I think of him. Waking up to the smell of strong black coffee permeating throughout the house, and that sting in your eyes when you get too close to something with a hell of a heat punch being cooked.
Originally I’d planned to make a breakfast fish dish for Anguilla, but a few days ago marked 15 years since we lost my Dad, and I had an urge to make something with a bit of a kick, so…

World of Food 6: Angola – Funge

Amberleigh Jack — Mon, 28 May 2018 12:56:00 +1200

This post is more about eating disorders than Angola, or Angola’s less-than-appetising national dish.
Which largely explains why it’s taken me more than a year to actually cook, and write about it.
Remember when you were a kid and refused dinner, and your Mum would come out with the line about starving children in the world who would love the chance to eat what you’re refusing?
For years, when I was in the deepest point of my eating disorder, that line would be in my head constantly. Often I’d be in an uncontrollable binge and purge cycle from morning till…

Melting pot: A cuisine of immigrants

Nik Mavromatis — Thu, 30 Nov 2017 15:57:00 +1300

The story of New Zealand developing its own cuisine is a story of immigration. As the last major landmass on Earth to be inhabited, it was teeming with flora, and with fauna unfamiliar with being chased down for lunch. Regional cuisines evolve from the convergence of local culture and the foods available to them, and New Zealand has been no different.
But the relatively recent arrival of humans has meant that cultural aspect of our cuisine has strongly reflected the immigrant’s original background. It was other places that first shaped how our foodstuffs were cooked and consumed. Over time, and…

World of Food 5: Andorra – Portabella Omelet

Amberleigh Jack — Thu, 02 Feb 2017 16:12:00 +1300

Looking back, my weird food habits started long before they officially became a “thing” that needed fixing. My Plunket book is filled with notes on my inability to take milk or the majority of the alternatives. I couldn't stand bananas and cheese was probably my least favourite food. I have a vivid memory of being forced to eat peas by a babysitter until I was sobbing at the table, and to this day I can't stand them.
As a kid, I was also pretty much obsessed with mushrooms. On family outings to Cobb 'n' Co, my go-to order would be…

World of Food 4: American Samoa

Amberleigh Jack — Sun, 18 Dec 2016 16:50:00 +1300

Oka I'a
"Is American Samoa a country?"
"It belongs to the US. It's not part of it, though. And it's on my list."
"To be fair, so is Antarctica."
"But American Samoa has a flag. And it means I get to eat fish. I've been missing fish."
"Good criteria."
I'm not a geography major. But for the purpose of this project, American Samoa is totally a country. Largely due to the fact that I've eaten a lot of red meat lately. And I was planning to go fishing. That didn't end up happening, but by that point I had my…

World of Food 3: Algeria (Tadjine Djedj b’ Zeitoun)

Amberleigh Jack — Wed, 07 Dec 2016 10:24:00 +1300

My friend's mum died this week. Since he told me, I've had the strongest memory of walking into her house a few years back and being hit with the smell of soup on the stove top. That smell that only comes from food being cooked slowly over a number of hours. The combination of meat and vegetables and seasoning that permeates the entire house as it cooks.
I don't know why that's my first and strongest memory when I think of her. Or why that memory hit me as hard as it did. There were plenty of times at the…

World of Food 2: Albania (Kime Me Vez)

Amberleigh Jack — Mon, 05 Dec 2016 08:09:00 +1300

Ground meat reminds me of arguments.
When I was a kid, the adult arguments I remember were often followed by bolognaise. I'm pretty sure my child brain twisted the memories a bit. There were likely arguments when mince wasn't served, and we probably ate a fair bit of it without fights. But one of my strongest memories is of awkward dinners where conversation was a forced kind of "don't let on to the kids" friendly. To this day I don't cook with mince. Funny how random moments as a kid shape your tastes as an adult.
So when the first…

World of Food 1: Afghanistan

Amberleigh Jack — Mon, 21 Nov 2016 07:16:00 +1300

It's funny how sometimes meaningless conversations or moments can turn into inspiring ideas down the track. It was a little more than a year ago that a random conversation with my trainer spurred an idea that has now finally become this project. We were talking food ideas and he suggested looking into some global recipes, adapting them to suit my tastes and hopefully finding new foods and flavours along the way.
Being somewhat an all or nothing kind of girl, I figured: why not try them all?
So that's the plan. Travel the world alphabetically, cooking a dish from each…

Feast

Gareth Renowden — Wed, 09 Dec 2015 15:17:00 +1300

For dinner we had turkey and blazing pudding, and after dinner the Uncles sat in front of the fire, loosened all buttons, put their large moist hands over their watch chains, groaned a little and slept.

Dylan Thomas, A Child's Christmas in Wales
Christmas in the little village outside Llanelli where my mother was born would -- when I first remember experiencing it in the 1960s -- have made Dylan Thomas feel at home. A turkey so big that it wouldn't fit into the small oven in the kitchen would be taken to the bakehouse (run by a cousin) at…