In the last week or so I've been up on Bardi-Jawi Country, known by many as the Dampier Peninsula. A 5000km round trip without leaving Western Australia, there’s more to come next week on why I was there. It did reconfirm this feeling or theme of contrasts and even the parallel world that is living in Western Australia. It's warm up there right now in a walk barefoot and breakout the linen kind of way, whereas back home in the south west it's cold and wet, intermittently stormy, the rolls of thunder often coming in from the ocean. I still count between the crash and the flash to gauge how far away it is. I seem to live in a gilet at the moment - which is less tech bro and more dog-walker chic (the pockets stuffed with poo bags and a training whistle that’s used to get the dog back when he’s a little wayward). In short, it’s perfect soup weather.
The week before I travelled north, after days of rain and howling winds, I had my spirits lifted at Dahl Daddys in Margaret River. Regular readers may remember I've written before about this Burmese inspired curry hut next to the skate park. It really is one of my standouts, reaching a status where I'll not automatically tell everyone about it. Yes, you read that right. I am of the opinion that most people following on Instagram or here have a certain mindset about food and dining, so I’ll tell you. Then there’s the randoms, who, finding out what I do, ask where to eat. I’ll do a quick risk assessment and if they fail it they get another set of recommendations. There are places in my past and present that I’m not interested in getting other peoples critical views on. Do you feel the same?
Now I could tell you more about the dhufish paratha (excellent) or the chicken sepyan (equally excellent) but it was a small bowl of fish head soup that has stayed with me. Delivered with the compliments of the kitchen and placed down in front of us with a certain reverence that suggested the server-cum-kitchen-hand had already eaten, this wasn't a case of special favours. Everyone eating in that night (and really eating in is eating out to some degree, as you're under the open verandah), and braving the cold was getting this spirit lifting magic soup. Hot in both senses, complex, rich from the bones, and bright with spice it was one of those fuck me moments that you’re happily blindsided by.
Initially, owner Corey Rozario confirmed it was a fish head soup that’s usually eaten at breakfast, but further confirmed that it was the base of the mohinga they had on that night, nannygai and dhufish frames and heads going into the original stock and then prepared slightly differently to the mohinga. Whipped up for staff, it then became an appetiser for we brave souls. There’s absolutely no guarantee that it will reappear on my next visit but what it has done is inspire me to attempt something similar over winter. Watch this space.
Back from the north there's also been a peanut, red lentil, sweet potato, onion, chicken stock soup lifted from the depths of the chest freezer and eaten at my desk. That offered comfort on a cold, wet lunchtime. Also, an impromptu red capsicum, carrot and tomato sheet pan soup cooked by my sister in law. Romesco-like in taste and texture was the adult verdict, which brought thoughts of adding chopped, pan roasted and possibly spiced almonds as a topper. My youngest nephew slurped down cups and cups, his face stained red as he told us all the red and orange foods he likes the most. “Soup of JUST Tomato!” Can there be any better verdict?
Hello to the Dazolytes
A big flurry of new subscribers in the last few weeks. In the past it’s been thanks to a shout out by Hetty Lui McKinnon or a recommendation by Colu Henry but this time you’ve come via Darren Robertson and his How To Be A Better Cook Substack. Darren, for those who don't know him is one the chefs behind Three Blue Ducks, author of a clutch of cookbooks, and something of a name in Australian food. He’s a Brit so it's perhaps appropriate that when I recently saw his bacon fat green goddess sauce I thought and maybe even said, you dirty bastard. In a pure tip of the hat. Corrupting things that are green with bacon fat: boss move. Anyway, welcome to the Dazolytes almost in triple figures, it’s wonderful to have you here.
Reasons to be cheerful
On the back of that soup appreciation, I said to the same four year old nephew, “you know the lady who wrote the colourful vegetable book you like? Well she’s written a new book and it’s about salads.”
His immediate and unequivocal reply, “can we get it.” Proud uncle moment that he’s already hooked on the cookbooks.
Said lady is Alice Zaslavsky, and the book is Salad for Days which is described as “both a seasonal reference guide and a daily roster to boost your repertoire, packed with inspiration (come through, Cauliflower tabouli with lemony tahini and pomegranate) as well as food that comforts (hellooo, Honeyed butternut risoni salad with marinated feta). It also includes an indispensable 'what to make when' list for using up particular veg, as well as a huge dressings inspo index to return to time and again. With this book, you'll have salad for days … and days … and days.”
It’s out in Australia on 1st October and while I haven’t read it yet I did comment to Alice that sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. Look, what a beaut.