strawberries Posts

Chocolate Fudge Sundae, Mascarpone Cheesecake and more at Must Winebar, Highgate

must winebar cheesecake strawberry sorbet

I’m a big believer in celebrating romance even when there’s no occasion for it. Who says it has to be Valentine’s Day before you’ll fork out for some fine dineyness with your bonny belle or beefy beau? Mmm, beef…

Last weekend was one such non-occasion, and I booked the Welshman and myself a table at Must Winebar in Highgate. I’d never been to Must despite having lived in the area, although I’ve had many a rowdy night and lazy lunch at the Queens across the road.

The Welshman and I spent the afternoon watching the Wales v France Rugby World Cup semi-final, and were both quite devastated when Wales lost by just one point. Talk about bandwagon-jumping – I’d never watched a game of rugby in my life before this year’s World Cup, but I applied myself with fervour just for the hell of it, and now can talk converted tries and knock-ons like a seasoned old punter who shakes their fist at the cracked old pub TV, not noticing their mug of beer has upended and has sloshed amber liquid down their faded rugby jersey.

But I digress. We were a bit down after the heartbreakingly close match (me, feeling down about a sports match! Feels strange just writing it) so going out to dinner was a pleasant cheer-upper.

Must is a regular on the best-bar/restaurant-in-Perth lists, and you can see why when you walk in – the lighting is dim and moody but not dingey, and the décor is stylish and neutral, with lots of dark reds and creams. The lower part of the room has a bar running down one side and a parallel wine rack partition in the centre, with dining tables clustered on the other side of that. Overlooking all this is another dining area with a gallery-style railing, and we were seated at the edge of this. Ours was a fantastic spot, especially as I have a sniper-like need to survey the whole room from where I’m sitting.

Must Winebar interior

Despite the people milling and chatting around the bar, the noise level was just low enough for us to talk comfortably. And the menu was certainly one to be discussed, with plenty of rich-sounding dishes to try. We started with the Chicken Liver Parfait with Grenache Jelly and Melba Toast for $18, as well as the Twice Baked Porcini Mushroom Soufflé and Mushroom Crème Sauce for $25.

The parfait was basically a pâté, and I felt it was only marginally better than one from the supermarket. I’ve been spoilt by Cream Restaurant’s pâté, which is so incredibly morish, and now I expect that from every restaurant. But at $18, you do, right? In contrast, the mushroom soufflé was light, creamy, and simply delicious. I would never associate mushrooms with soufflés, but this combination was incredible.

For our main meals, we chose the Rabbit Pie and Carrot Puree with Braised Black Pig Bacon and Lentils with Madeira Jus for $39, and the Chargrilled Butterfield Sirloin Stead (270g, dry aged for 28 days) with Béarnaise Sauce, Frites and Watercress Salad, $46.

The rabbit pie was very thick and wintery, with good solid pastry and nice slivers of meat inside. And the steak was fantastic – very tender and juicy.

We were both pretty full, but that didn’t stop us from ordering a dessert each. All five of the menu choices sounded equally scrumptious but we settled on the Hot Fudge Sundae with Honeycomb, Vanilla Ice Cream and Chocolate Sauce, plus the Lemon Mascarpone Cheesecake with Wild Strawberry Sorbet, Blackcurrant Coulis and Strawberries, both $16.

I always wonder about claims that an ingredient is ‘wild’. Does that mean some poor schmo actually treks out into the wilderness with a basket?

The hot fudge sundae sounded great in theory, but then again, so do lingerie parties and wearing glittery pink veils on hens’ nights. In practice, not so fabulous. The honeycomb didn’t taste light and sugary, but… burnt. And the rest was just cream and ice cream with some chocolate sauce poured in; not exactly a flavour sensation.

Must Winebar chocolate honeycomb sundae

The lemon marscapone cheesecake with its accompaniment of berries, however, actually was fabulous. The cheesecake was sweet, fluffy and smooth, and the sorbet and coulis complemented it really well. I wish I’d ordered two instead of the sundae!

I can see why Must has a great reputation; the wines we ordered were lovely, the ambience was busy but stylish, and the service was excellent. When the food was good it was very very good, but when it wasn’t good it was… not bad, just mediocre. I’m a little surprised there was mediocrity at all, given how much people rave about the joint, but perhaps it was just one of those nights?

I’ll definitely go back to Must, though I don’t think it will make it onto my list of staple fine dining destinations. There are too many others in Perth to check out before this one gets a top spot.

Must Winebar
519 Beaufort St
Highgate, Western Australia
(08) 9328 8255

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Easy chocolate and raspberry swirl ice cream with strawberries

chocolate raspberry ice cream with strawberries

My friend Tansy came over for dinner last week, and as I didn’t have time to make a big dessert I tried to think of something quick and light that wouldn’t weigh us down too much. Weighing oneself down is fine for the weekend, when you can roll straight into bed and sleep it off, but not on a weeknight when you want to stay upright for a  few more hours, then head to work in the morning without feeling like there’s a brick in your belly.

Strawberries are always a tasty option for a light dessert, and I thought I’d pair them with some vanilla Connoisseur ice cream. But that didn’t seem very adventurous, so I decided to tamper with the ice cream a bit, and add some raspberries and chocolate to the mix.

The internet was rather devoid of raspberry swirl ice cream recipes that didn’t involve cream, eggs and an ice cream machine, so I had to improvise. I made some raspberry coulis on the stove and strained out all the seeds, and once it had cooled I softened some vanilla ice cream. I thought of making chocolate sauce so it could join the raspberry coulis in a ripple effect, but then I remembered dipping melted chocolate into ice cream at Max Brenner, and how delicious the instantly-hardened chocolate tasted.

making chocolate raspberry ice cream

So I simply melted some milk chocolate and drizzled it in circles over the soft ice cream, stirring it in quickly until the ice cream was full of little chocolate strands. Then I folded in the raspberry coulis, trying to keep the swirl effect. Then I got a bit excited and added a handful of whole frozen raspberries just to up the ante.

The mixture hardened up in the freezer, more so than untainted ice cream, so before we had dessert I popped the container on top of the fridge for a while, not realising that it’s pretty warm up there. Whoops! The outside edges of the block of ice cream melted, but at least it was soft enough to serve.

And it was delicious! The coulis mixed in with the vanilla enough to create a slight raspberry taste, enhanced by the whole raspberries studded through the mix. And the stringy blobs of chocolate tasted lovely. We probably didn’t even need the strawberries, but they still made a nice addition.

Although this isn’t real home-made ice cream, it’s still a great dessert idea, and really quick to make. I’m going to start collecting ideas for other flavours and bits to add – I’ve heard meringue pieces go well, and there are lots of fruits to try. But at least I can fall back on raspberry and chocolate!

chocolate raspberry swirl ice cream

Recipe: Easy chocolate and raspberry swirl ice cream with strawberries

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Rich chocolate tart with strawberries and ice cream

Aria chocolate tart with strawberries and ice cream

Back when Masterchef contestants spent their time cooking instead of navigating obstacle courses, one of the challenges in the final weeks involved creating chocolate tart. Not just any old choccie pie, but the Aria Chocolate Tart, from the kitchen of Matt Moran’s two-hatted Aria restaurant, and involving not just some pastry with chocolate filling, but also a chocolate glaze, chocolate sauce, chocolate sorbet, a chocolate curl and a chocolate macaron. Just in case you were leaning towards thinking it might be a passionfruit-themed dish.

I obsessed about making it for a long time, but had neither the time nor the money to burn on seven sets of ingredients. Recently, however, I was poking around Sydney food blog spicy icecream and came across a simplified version that looked almost as good as the Moran version. And before I knew it, I was buying copious amounts of chocolate, butter and cream (three of my favourite ingredients) and maniacally sprinkling every available surface with flour. (Sorry, carpet).

We’d invited some friends over for dinner so while the Welshman busied himself with a vegetarian lasagne, I pulled out sugar, cocoa, butter, eggs and self-raising flour to make pastry. Alas, my first mistake – I meant to grab the plain flour. Unfortunately I used up all the cocoa before I realised my mistake, so once the pastry was lining the tart tin I popped it in the freezer for 10 minutes then weighed it down with masses of rice before it went in the oven.

It was my first time using this oven and I’m not familiar with the electric kind, so it’ll take me a while to get used to it – but meanwhile I managed to singe the underside of my pastry shell. I pretended not to notice (too late to re-make!) and instead gloated that although the edges of the crust had puffed up a bit, the freezer/rice combo had prevented too much rising.

The tart filling was easy-as-pie to make (see what I did there?). Just some boiling cream poured over chocolate, then some eggs mixed in. Then into the tart shell and the whole caboodle back into the oven for a while. I think the underside of the pastry copped yet another smoking, and I’m beginning to sense that placing delicate desserts 2cm above the heating element may not be my best idea yet.

Once the tart had cooled a bit it was a dream to slice, and I served it with a quenelle of Connoisseur vanilla bean ice cream and some chopped up strawberries. The tart itself was very rich with a slightly bitter taste, which I assume stemmed from the 70% Lindt dark chocolate I used. It also had a hint of burned flavour, and I have NO IDEA where that came from.

I think the ice cream and strawberries were a good idea as we needed something light and sweet to cut through the rich bitterness or the tart. Next time, I’ll up the ratio of milk chocolate, and try not to use the wrong flour and burn the pastry, oui?

Aria chocolate tart with strawberries

I fridged the leftover tart and had a slice the next day, but it had solidified and lost that truffle-like consistency. I plan to try some more after letting it warm up a bit to room temperature, and I suspect that it will regain some of that softer texture. It’s all in the name of experimenting. Science is very important. I’m making the world a better place. Right?

You can find the full recipe for the simplified version of the Aria Chocolate Tart at spicy icecream.

Champagne Jelly, Meringue and Custard Cream Trifle with Strawberries

Champagne Jelly, Meringue and Custard Cream Trifle with Strawberries

Ever since Donna Hay Magazine’s Dec/Jan issue, I’ve longed to make a version of the Strawberry and Vanilla Macaron Trifle on the cover. Unfortunately up until two weeks ago I lived out of a suitcase for six months, and trifle-making was not my top priority (I know! Strange).

The Welshman’s birthday was the perfect time for trifle, as he’s not a huge fan of cake but loves a big bowl layered with jelly, custard, cream and other odds and ends. I accompanied him home for Christmas one year and honestly, it’s all they seem to eat over there. I like Wales.

The Donna Hay recipe consists of a cranberry-juice jelly base with strawberries floating around in it, then a layer of store-bought macarons topped with vanilla cream and a pile of strawberries on top. I don’t like cranberry juice or lashings of cream, and there wasn’t enough time to make macarons. So after a few chats with Housemate-the-Chef and flicking through a few cookbooks, I decided champagne jelly with strawberries covered with a layer of meringue kisses and topped with custard cream and more strawberries would not only be a mouthful to say, but a delicious one to eat as well.

Meringues were the very first thing I remember making by myself, back when I was four or five in the kitchen of our old fibro house in a dusty town in WA’s wheatbelt. I’ve been whipping them up (literally) for various occasions over the years, so I closed my eyes, waved my wand* and a batch appeared.

*Nine inches, Karri wood, with a vial of unicorn blood at the core.

I’ve never attempted champagne jelly before, so I used Taste.com.au’s recipe for Pink Champagne Jellies with Lychees as a guide for ingredient quantities, and I also chopped up a few strawberries and threw them in a saucepan with some sugar and water over low heat. This produced some sad, bleached strawberry bits and some nice red juice, which I strained and added to the pan of champagne mixture. Once it was looking good I poured it into the glass trifle bowl thingo my gorgeous Sydney housemates bought me last year, added some quartered strawberries, and chucked it in the fridge to set, where it proceeded to take its SWEET TIME hardening up and thus sending me into a gelatin-induced panic.

Champagne jelly with strawberries

The next day it was just hard enough to layer with the kisses and smother with a pile of custard cream, which I am proud to say is my own recipe, published in Handmade magazine last year when I still had a business card. That was followed by a pile of strawberries on top (of the trifle, not on my business card, which wouldn’t have tasted nice at all).

When we finally got around to trying the trifle, our livers immediately started screaming in response to the alcoholic nature of the dish. Gollygosh, that champagne packed a punch. I won’t be serving this one to a bunch of lightweights about to hit the road. But for those who are crashing in the spare room, the jelly cut nicely through the custard cream and the meringues provided a nice spongy texture in addition to the sweet strawberries. However, I wish we’d sampled it sooner when the meringues were still crunchy. And my, that is rather a lot of custard cream.

Champagne Jelly, Meringue and Custard Cream Trifle with Strawberries

The Welshman’s verdict? Well, he “liked” my fancy take on a trifle, but as he admitted, his favourite kind consisted of packet jelly, sponge fingers, tinned fruit salad, custard and cream.

Next time.

Recipe: Champagne Jelly, Meringue and Custard Cream Trifle with Strawberries
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