Tori Haschka - Travels with My Spatula: Recipes & stories from around the world

TRAVELS

WITH MY

SPATULA

TRAVELS

WITH MY

SPATULA

RECIPES & STORIES FROM AROUND THE WORLD

Tori Haschka

Photography by Isobel Wield
Illustration by Andrea Turvey

dedication to the hungry one

Senior Designer Megan Smith

Commissioning Editor Cline Hughes

Production Controller Gary Hayes

Art Director Leslie Harrington

Editorial Director Julia Charles

Prop Stylist Tony Hutchinson

Food Stylist Lizzie Harris

Indexer Hilary Bird

First published in 2013

This revised edition published in 2020

by Ryland Peters & Small

2021 Jockeys Fields,

London WC1R 4BW

and

341 E 116th St

New York NY 10029

www.rylandpeters.com

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Text Tori Haschka 2013, 2020

Design and photographs Ryland Peters & Small 2013, 2020

eISBN: 978-1-78879-273-8

ISBN: 978-1-78879-209-7

Printed and bound in China

The authors moral rights have been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library.

US Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.

Notes

All spoon measurements are level, unless otherwise specified.

Recipes containing raw or partially cooked egg, or raw fish or shellfish, should not be served to the very young, very old, anyone with a compromised immune system or pregnant women.

All herbs are fresh, butter unsalted and eggs UK medium or US large unless otherwise stated.

When a recipe calls for the grated zest of citrus fruit, buy unwaxed fruit and wash well before use. If you can only find treated fruit, scrub well in warm soapy water and rinse before using.

contents

There is no love sincerer than the love of food. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW (18561950)

Except perhaps a love of travel. Thank goodness the two go hand in hand.

My hunger for food and travel began when I found a co-pilot. We met in Sydneys inner west, in a dank pub with a Thai restaurant on the roof, its tables sticky from spilled drinks. Not long after, we went on a small adventure. After three days on the sands of Phuket spooning coconut tapioca and flat noodles with fiendishly hot chilli, we had joint epiphanies. It started with a wish list on the back of a boarding pass; it ended with an oversized map freckled with Post-It notes.

Joy comes easily when youre away. Its not about beaches, boulevards, snow and city scapes, although they certainly help. Its the energy that comes with experiencing something new. Its an immediacy which makes it hard to think of anything else. Theres also the anticipation. No matter how salty a day, having a trip on the horizon makes most things easier to swallow.

It wasnt long after that I dubbed the tall, blonde fellow, who later became my husband, The Hungry One. It is a name borne as much from his appetite for life as his capacity to consume. Since that first adventure, hes passed some important lessons on to me. If you see a long queue for food, join it; locals will be waiting for a reason. I shared some tips of my own, gleaned the hard way after collecting E. coli from a local well in Malacca: just because its washed, doesnt mean its clean. But the most important thing we learnt was how to pack. Beyond a passport and a credit card, all we really needed was an open mind and an appetite.

Neither of us expected to find the worlds best hot dogs in Iceland or a perfect schnitzel made by Austrian princes in Florence. As the years went on and a few curve balls were thrown our way, more Post-Its found their way onto the maps. From our base in Sydney wed squelch our annual leave into a bundle and fly off to explore other corners of the world.

Later, after cramming clothes, books and a trusty red spatula into two suitcases, London became home. Weekend minibreaks, with cheap flights and a rush for seats in cattle class, were the order of the day. Wed leave on Friday night and eat and explore a city all weekend.

Many of the dishes in this book evolved from those trips. There were escapist lunches of garlic prawns with a pitcher of sangria in Estoril, and pastillas from the cool shadows of a Marrakech riad. Others came from more sobering places. We didnt intend to witness revolution when we went to the Great Pyramids. Now when we eat koshary, we taste the adrenaline of people calling for freedom.

Nothing can transport me back to a place like a taste. A sip of Campari and Im looking over Piazza San Marco. A glass of salmon-pink wine, beaded with sweat, and Im watching boats nod in Menton. Put a Victoria beer in my hand and it will whisk me straight to Baja. More than a photo, a journal entry or a pair of souvenir cufflinks, its the food that keeps the journeys alive. As long as Ive got access to a kitchen and some inspiration I could be anywhere, and its on those nights that I find Im happier than ever to be home. I hope it works the same for you. Bon voyage.

london

The first time I visited London, the days were grey and the sky buckled like wet socks. It wasnt until I returned eight years later and tasted the mushrooms on toast at St. John restaurant that I began to properly chew on the prospect of uprooting our lives to live here. Its funny how a dish can do that. It might have been the resilient way the char of the bread held up against the sag of mushrooms. It might have been the hum of parsley and garlic. Whatever it was, over a plate of mushrooms on toast my resolve melted. This was not just a dish that made me feel at home. It was steadying enough to get me to contemplate shifting ours.

My recipe is not a replica of Fergus Hendersons mushrooms on toast. Those wanting the true experience should go to St. John in Smithfield, London, right now. This is the version I make when I cant get there. It serves as brunch, lunch or supper when I need an edible hug. The way the juices of the fungi soften the toast in the centre is a high point. For extra interest theres Parmesan, sage and burnt butter. My husband likes it with more bells and whistles. Hell happily pair it with prosciutto or a poached egg or both. But to me the real heroes are the mushrooms. They work equally well over soft polenta, pasta or even pured white beans for supper if you have a craving for mushrooms but just cant bring yourself to serve toast for dinner.