As if my love of bacon wasn’t more obvious. If I were a poet like Duckie, I would write an Ode to Bacon. Sadly I am bereft of the ability to rhyme (except in cases where obscene and nonsensical limericks are concerned) so I shall profess my love for this salted, cured meat by tinkering with the pink stuff and finding new ways to stuff it into my waiting, hungry mouth. One item that I thought would be an interesting idea was bacon lasagne.
One of my favourite ever books is the very controversial American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. Sure it’s not a book for everyone and whilst I didn’t enjoy the squeamish, darkly murderous parts I really enjoyed his take on modern day looks and appearance obsessed “Masters of the Universe” (and yes I do know people kind of like him). One chapter that I remember vividly was when the main character Patrick Bateman tried to get a booking at an impossible to get a booking at restaurant. He rings the restaurant and when he asks for a reservation the only response he gets is mockingly condescending laughter and then a “click” as they hang up on him.
Ever since then, I’ve wondered if I would ever get that reaction when trying to make a booking. As what I do involves a lot of eating out at a lot of “hot” places I’ve feared encountering this. One of the latest places in town and a place that is very hard to get a table at is Soffritto in Newtown. Given rave reviews by many including friends, I was apprehensive when I first rang, worried that I’d get the attitude. You know the attitude that popular places get (well they do in Sydney anyway). The kind of attitude where they tell you that no they are fully booked “for like…forever” and if you’re lucky you might dine there one day. I was actually surprised and pleased to hear the voice on the other end of the phone was friendly and without attitude and actually seemed apologetic about the long waiting queue. Good lord, had hell frozen over? Well it was Winter so perhaps it had…
A soffritto literally is a roughly chopped mixture of vegetables (onion, carrot and celery), garlic and herbs that forms the base for sauces, stocks and stews. The best way to get a booking here (and yes you do need to book pretty much any night) is to go on a Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday where they also have a dining special. For the very reasonable price of $20 you get a bowl of entree sized hand made pasta (a choice of two) and a glass of wine. It’s also a good night to dine out as we can imagine noise levels here can be quite loud on a Friday or Saturday night. There is also a 3 course for $49 or a 5 course degustation for $70 available.
Truffled potato gnocchi and parmigianno $17
We are given some bread and olive oil to nibble on but if I can offer any advice it’s this: hang onto your bread so that you can dip it in the sauces (or eat it and they’ll kindly bring you some more). As soon as this is set down in front of me the aroma gets me-I’m bewitched. I’m twitching and squirming in my seat as Mr NQN takes photos. I finally get a taste of this and the gnocchi is beautifully light. None of this heavy, gluggy potato water mess that can be served up. And the sauce with the truffle paste in the centre is perfection. It’s rich with reggiano and creamy. Holy heavens it’s moreish (and don’t even think about calculating the calories!).
They say that behind every great man there is a great woman. I also believe that behind every fun adult there’s a child lurking behind. I don’t mean literally, but having a connection with the child within certainly opens up the world to fun. I do worry that sometimes I will be the 50 years old still dressing like I’m much younger – I believe the phrase is “mutton dressed as lamb” (and I am aware that I may barely getting away with it now 
).
The golden ahem … black ticket!
I look around and survey the crowd standing outside the Hilton’s Grand Ballroom. There’s not a single Chairman Kaga outfit in sight. Despite this lack of frills and puffy shirts, there is excitement in the air as about 300 eager diners holding a ticket enter the waiting area for the Iron Chef dinner, 2010. When I first started this blog just under three years ago, I had won myself tickets to the Iron Chef dinner 2007. It was an event that I thought was brilliant from start to finish and one that I pegged “A once in a lifetime experience”. Little did I realise that only a few years later I would have the privilege of dining at the Iron Chef Dinner 2010 thanks to the lovely people at Chef’s Armoury who specialise in Japanese knives.
Autographed books for sale
Beef and black bean canapes
Pork ball canapes
At $385 a ticket, prices are lower than the previous event we attended (where they were $495) and they’ve managed to fit in a lot more people whereas at the Observatory Hotel, they fit 120 people. The function staff serve us canapes provided by Sushi Samurai. There are porcelain spoons with deep fried beef pieces in a bean sauce, scallop sushi, salmon roe sushi and oyster tempura with the oyster tempura being the pick of the lot. Sparkling wine and soft drinks are flowing and everyone is excited to start. There are signed cookbooks in Japanese available for purchase for $60 each.
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Taiko drummers
The music starts from inside the ball room. There’s a frisson of excitement throughout the crowd as we sense the start of the event proper. There are taiko drums beating and they open the doors to reveal the space. There are two huge projection screens on each side of the stage and on each one reads a quote:
My friend M once gave me a packet of quinoa for Christmas and it sat on the pantry shelf for the longest time. I would occasionally glance at it and talk to it. “I know I’m ignoring you but I don’t know what to do with you” I’d say to it like a parent to an unruly teenager on at least on 5 or 6 occasions and then I’d shut the cupboard door like I was the parent shutting the bedroom door on this grounded teen. All I knew was how to pronounce it, keen-wa if you’re curious ( pronounced a bit like Joaquin Phoenix backwards but without the beard and strange behaviour). I had hoped that something would come along to inspire me to make something with it. And like magic it did in the form of a Peruvian cooking class. I’m ashamed to admit that I never knew that quinoa originated in the Andean mountain region so the quinoa probably had no idea what I was saying to it in English .
Royal White Quinoa
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