Photo by Laurie Proffitt
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Christine Manfield, Australian Spice Queen
No, she is not a member of a Down Under modern rock ensemble, instead she is a celebrity chef-partner in a famous Sydney, Australia restaurant. What makes her a hot number is her mastery of spice and how she uses it to lift ordinary food to extraordinary heights. The name of her restaurant, fittingly, is Paramount, opened in 1993. By Nancy Ross Ryan
Chef Christine Manfield has opinions as pronounced as her use of spices, and she is famous for both. Among opinions, the following : "We are all faced with mediocrity in food; my mission is to elevate it. I like food that enlivens the palate, that speaks of strength of flavor, of refined textures, of seductive and luxurious aromas that activate the tatebuds and tantalize the mind. I don't believe in garnishing the plate; everything should be intrinsic, edible and the flavors and textures integrated in every bite."
She elevates food not only by using the finest, freshest ingredients, but by her global palette of spices, seemingly from every nook and cranny of the world. Her spice cupboard contains, along with the standards and exotics, flavors seldom heard of, much less tasted: ajwain seeds, cubeb, grains of paradise, mahleb, mastic, and zedoary. Manfield is intimate with all these and many more and uses them in her cooking. And they all make an appearance -- although the most exotic spices are the briefest encounters -- in her latest cookbook, Spice, by Christine Manfield (Viking Penguin Books Australia Ltd., 1999).
To satisfy curiosity: Ajwain seeds are tiny, produced by an herb related to cumin, caraway, parsley and dill; smell like cumin but have an intense thyme-liquorice taste. Cubeb are larger than peppercorns, come from the dried unripe fruit of the Piper cubeba vine (a climbing member of the pepper family), and taste closer to allspice than pepper. Grains of paradise are peppery, hot seeds of a plant belonging to the ginger family native to western Africa. Mahleb is the dried kernel of the stone of a sour black cherry native to the Middle East and Turkey; it gives delicious nutty flavor and vanilla aroma to baked goods, but is too bitter to be eaten on its own. Mastic (here's a strange one) is the resinous sap from an acacia native to the Mediterranean, and comes dried in crystal or powder form; tastes subtly like liquorice, and must be pounded in a mortar and pestle before use. Zedoary is a rhizome belonging to the turmeric family; has a flavor cross between musky ginger and tangy green mango.
Until meeting Manfield in Chicago during her book tour, I had always considered "seasoning" as the umbrella word that covered two basic categories: herbs and spices. According to this traditional -- and I now see incomplete -- culinary wisdom, herbs were leaves, and spices were seeds. Basil and oregano are herbs, black pepper and caraway are seeds -- but not really. Caraway is a seed, but black pepper is a berry.
Under the umbrella of "spices and aromatics," Manfield divides the world of seasonings into categories that make much more sense.
Words as names are less evocative than descriptions. For example, consider chili -- hot pepper of some kind. But when used on the menu from Paramount Restaurant, chili takes on considerable dimensions. The following is an entree (in Australia entree corresponds to our appetizer, and Australian main courses correspond to our entrees): Coconut chicken, pickled green mango, spinach salad, chili jam, roasted peanuts. Chili comes in a different guise in a main course: Roasted Murray cod fillet, chili salt squid, smoked bacon, black ink noodles, confit tomato, roasted pimiento. And in the cookbook, chili explodes in a riot of flavor in Manfield's recipe for Chili Orange Oil (reprinted below).
Not only in her use of spices, but also in her recipes, Manfield differentiates herself from most other cookbook authors. Her recipes are written in inverted order: instructions first, ingredients second, and last of all the name of the recipe and any recipe notes. She reasons that "If you first understand the method of preparation, you can adapt those principles to available ingredients."
When I suggested to Mansfield that spice was the last thing that came to mind at the mention of Australian cuisine, and that my stereotype had more to do with meat pies and food cooked on the barbecue grill, she agreed. "Until recently, Australian cooking in general had very little to do with spice," she says explaining that during the white settlement of Australia the diet and eating habits the settlers brought with them were completely at odds with the country's resources and climate. And she says that late nineteenth and early twentieth-century cooking manuals describe a basic spice collection of only about twelve spices, quite a contrast to "the dazzling array we can now access and utilize." And she credits Australian chefs, food writers and wine makers with making major contributions in the past few decades that are changing the world's perceptions of Australian cuisine. "Australia, very much like America, is a celebration of diversity. And given our propinquity to Asia, the availability of incredible European products, and a climate that allows you to grow anything, we are expanding our culinary horizons."
Her obsession with food started early in life, long before she became a chef (previous occupations included teacher and hair dresser) and, she says that spices always played a central role. She has also traveled extensively, broadening her perspective, and, as she puts it, "Opening my mind to new interpretations. I find it challenging -- invigorating and exciting -- not intimidating, to be surrounded by foreign languages, tastes, aromas and customs."
But at the heart of her cooking is spice. "It permeates every aspect of my life and work."
And, she unhesitatingly recommends, "Dare to lose yourself in the sensuous world of spice. Your cooking won't be the same." |
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1. Infuse saffron in the boiling water for 5 minutes for color to develop. Meanwhile, mix yeast and sugar into the warm water and allow to stand for a few minutes. 2. Mix saffron water, milk, egg and melted butter until combined. 3. Mix flour and salt in bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a dough hook. With the dough hook turning slowly, add yeast mixture first and then pour in saffron mixture. 4. Knead dough for 25 minutes until shiny, firm and elastic. 5. Cover bowl with plastic film and a tea towel and allow dough to rise at room temperature until doubled in volume, about 1 hour. 6. Turn dough onto a lightly floured bench and knead by hand for 5 minutes, working the excess flour from bench into dough thoroughly. 7. Divide dough in half and roll each piece into an oval shape, then transfer to an oiled baking tray and brush with egg wash. Allow loaves to rise at room temperature a second time until doubled in volume, about 30 minutes. 8. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 200°C (400°F). 9. Bake loaves for 25-30 minutes until bread sounds hollow when tapped on its base. Cool on a wire rack. (Makes 2 loaves)
1 teaspoon saffron threads
SAFFRON BREAD Bring all ingredients to a simmer in a large saucepan over low heat -- do not boil. Cook gently for 15 minutes, then remove from heat. Cool completely. Strain through a fine-meshed sieve, discarding solids. Store in sterilized bottles and seal with a cork. Keep indefinitely. Makes 1 liter (generous quart).
Zest of 3 oranges
CHILI ORANGE OIL
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CREATING A SPICE CUPBOARD Manfield advises that to make spices an integral part of cooking, one needs to become familiar with the taste of smell of each spice, how to purchase them, store them and use them. Far from being difficult or a test, this is an adventure that can be taken slowly, spice by spice.
Spice Groups:
Purchase
Storage
Equipment
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GOURMET ISSUE - May 2000
(For a related article: click here)