Latest news with #Viennetta
The Age
03-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
What does WA taste like? To Hearth's head chef, the most important flavour is potential
From smoked kangaroo and wattleseed tortillas to fun Viennetta remakes, Hearth is a spirited journey into West Australian food and wine. Previous SlideNext Slide What is it about the number three that makes it so auspicious? Good things come in threes. The third time's a charm. In 1973, Bob Dorough's catchy composition Three Is a Magic Number kick-started American children's television show Schoolhouse Rock. (Almost two decades later, his song was also sampled by hip-hop trio De La Soul.) After working my way through most of the winter menu at Hearth, I get the sense that three is also something of a magic number for Brian Cole, the restaurant's Sierra Leone-born head chef. His sourdough is baked with three different barleys including the New Norcia black barley carefully resurrected by late grain grower Roger Duggan; his smoked three-caviar tart features sturgeon, Murray River and Japanese flying fish roe; and the twice-baked three-cheese souffle couldn't have happened without the efforts of local cheesemakers Cambray, La Delizia Latticini and Halls Family Dairy. This year also marks Cole's third year as the big cheese at the Ritz-Carlton Perth's ground floor diner: a lofty riverside cathedral rich in azure, ochre and stone, plus the understated luxury that the global hotel group is famous for. (At the very least, the room is a welcome contrast to the garish Tron -like glow of Elizabeth Quay after dark.) These paint and building material choices are about more than just following brand guidelines. They're also some of the ways that Hearth celebrates its deep West Australian-ness. (See also: the cellar's pronounced local accent, plus the kitchen's fondness for native West Australian flavours and carefully sourced local produce.) Once upon a time, the expectation was that the marquee restaurant in a five-star hotel would be a formal, airless chore of a thing. Not so here. Led by restaurant manager Tom Staples, service is cordial, composed and well-drilled. Engaged staff look equally comfortable hosting big tables as they are cossetting solo diners that hotel restaurants inevitably attract. Just as attentive service might challenge hotel restaurant norms, so too does Hearth's focus on open-fire cooking. Not that this is some macho, full metal smokehouse trading in shock and awe. Rather, the kitchen uses its jarrah-burning grill and smoker fuelled by applewood chips, often in tandem, to help ingredients be their best selves. So Mottainai lamb shanks are smoked, cut into good chunks and folded into a crumbly wattleseed and masa tortilla crisped over the coals. This deftly composed taco and its two-bite ilk are part of a new 'to-start' offering: snacky things that populate various tasting menus but can now be also ordered individually. (They're also offered next door at Hearth Lounge, the restaurant's seven-day bar and lounge offshoot.) Kangaroo gets cured, smoked and charred over the fire to yield a blushing tranche of fillet that's a pleasure to eat. (Shout out to the accompanying glossy, lip-sticking jus of roasted kangaroo tail and chicken wing.) I must admit, while Cole's cooking has always been big on technique and layered flavours, some of his earlier dishes felt bogged down by showy flourishes. Now that he's dialled back the frou frou touches and tightened up what's on the plate, his vision of modern (West) Australian cooking feels so much clearer and, most crucially, delicious. Fennel pollen, bush honey and a native herb salt put an Aussie spin on roast Wagin duck breast. To the side, a cutesy croquette of shredded duck meat made in the image of the Dutch crumbed meatball, bitterballen. Giving Pardoo wagyu oyster blade the low and slow treatment transforms this not especially glamorous cut into a melty paleolithic wonder while its ragu offsider makes a compelling argument for more cooks to slip their customers some (beef) tongue. Could the pumpkin and potato gratin on the menu's sole vego main have been crisper? Possibly. But judging by the endive braised in orange juice served with the duck, team Hearth's barbecuing range is more than just snags and chops. Grilled strawberries rendered fudgy by the hearth prove fruit and fire should catch up more often. A dapper mille-feuille comprising frilly plinths of puff pastry, hazelnut ice cream and native rivermint gel tastes like history's poshest mint Viennetta. Such fun throwbacks – plus the introduction of more flexible menus and large-format share proteins – speak to Hearth's efforts to position itself as a more accessible CBD dining option. Points for proactivity, but Hearth's pricing (still) puts it largely in special occasion territory, especially to those susceptible to menu upsells. Chinese-farmed Black Pearl caviar is sold by weight. Pay a supplement and get black truffle shaved over whatever dish you fancy: a flex that yields good TikTok content but doesn't always flatter this expensive seasonal ingredient. But like the saying goes, you get what you pay for. And if having someone rain black truffle on your camembert ice cream makes you happy, who am I to say otherwise? You do you. And if doing you involves commemorating a milestone or weaving some special into your life, Hearth needs to be on your radar. Firepower plus people power plus the contact high of worldliness that comes from brushing shoulders with a world-famous hotel dynasty equals a compelling class of (West) Australian dining that feels very modern, very Perth and very essential.
Sydney Morning Herald
03-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
What does WA taste like? To Hearth's head chef, the most important flavour is potential
From smoked kangaroo and wattleseed tortillas to fun Viennetta remakes, Hearth is a spirited journey into West Australian food and wine. Previous SlideNext Slide What is it about the number three that makes it so auspicious? Good things come in threes. The third time's a charm. In 1973, Bob Dorough's catchy composition Three Is a Magic Number kick-started American children's television show Schoolhouse Rock. (Almost two decades later, his song was also sampled by hip-hop trio De La Soul.) After working my way through most of the winter menu at Hearth, I get the sense that three is also something of a magic number for Brian Cole, the restaurant's Sierra Leone-born head chef. His sourdough is baked with three different barleys including the New Norcia black barley carefully resurrected by late grain grower Roger Duggan; his smoked three-caviar tart features sturgeon, Murray River and Japanese flying fish roe; and the twice-baked three-cheese souffle couldn't have happened without the efforts of local cheesemakers Cambray, La Delizia Latticini and Halls Family Dairy. This year also marks Cole's third year as the big cheese at the Ritz-Carlton Perth's ground floor diner: a lofty riverside cathedral rich in azure, ochre and stone, plus the understated luxury that the global hotel group is famous for. (At the very least, the room is a welcome contrast to the garish Tron -like glow of Elizabeth Quay after dark.) These paint and building material choices are about more than just following brand guidelines. They're also some of the ways that Hearth celebrates its deep West Australian-ness. (See also: the cellar's pronounced local accent, plus the kitchen's fondness for native West Australian flavours and carefully sourced local produce.) Once upon a time, the expectation was that the marquee restaurant in a five-star hotel would be a formal, airless chore of a thing. Not so here. Led by restaurant manager Tom Staples, service is cordial, composed and well-drilled. Engaged staff look equally comfortable hosting big tables as they are cossetting solo diners that hotel restaurants inevitably attract. Just as attentive service might challenge hotel restaurant norms, so too does Hearth's focus on open-fire cooking. Not that this is some macho, full metal smokehouse trading in shock and awe. Rather, the kitchen uses its jarrah-burning grill and smoker fuelled by applewood chips, often in tandem, to help ingredients be their best selves. So Mottainai lamb shanks are smoked, cut into good chunks and folded into a crumbly wattleseed and masa tortilla crisped over the coals. This deftly composed taco and its two-bite ilk are part of a new 'to-start' offering: snacky things that populate various tasting menus but can now be also ordered individually. (They're also offered next door at Hearth Lounge, the restaurant's seven-day bar and lounge offshoot.) Kangaroo gets cured, smoked and charred over the fire to yield a blushing tranche of fillet that's a pleasure to eat. (Shout out to the accompanying glossy, lip-sticking jus of roasted kangaroo tail and chicken wing.) I must admit, while Cole's cooking has always been big on technique and layered flavours, some of his earlier dishes felt bogged down by showy flourishes. Now that he's dialled back the frou frou touches and tightened up what's on the plate, his vision of modern (West) Australian cooking feels so much clearer and, most crucially, delicious. Fennel pollen, bush honey and a native herb salt put an Aussie spin on roast Wagin duck breast. To the side, a cutesy croquette of shredded duck meat made in the image of the Dutch crumbed meatball, bitterballen. Giving Pardoo wagyu oyster blade the low and slow treatment transforms this not especially glamorous cut into a melty paleolithic wonder while its ragu offsider makes a compelling argument for more cooks to slip their customers some (beef) tongue. Could the pumpkin and potato gratin on the menu's sole vego main have been crisper? Possibly. But judging by the endive braised in orange juice served with the duck, team Hearth's barbecuing range is more than just snags and chops. Grilled strawberries rendered fudgy by the hearth prove fruit and fire should catch up more often. A dapper mille-feuille comprising frilly plinths of puff pastry, hazelnut ice cream and native rivermint gel tastes like history's poshest mint Viennetta. Such fun throwbacks – plus the introduction of more flexible menus and large-format share proteins – speak to Hearth's efforts to position itself as a more accessible CBD dining option. Points for proactivity, but Hearth's pricing (still) puts it largely in special occasion territory, especially to those susceptible to menu upsells. Chinese-farmed Black Pearl caviar is sold by weight. Pay a supplement and get black truffle shaved over whatever dish you fancy: a flex that yields good TikTok content but doesn't always flatter this expensive seasonal ingredient. But like the saying goes, you get what you pay for. And if having someone rain black truffle on your camembert ice cream makes you happy, who am I to say otherwise? You do you. And if doing you involves commemorating a milestone or weaving some special into your life, Hearth needs to be on your radar. Firepower plus people power plus the contact high of worldliness that comes from brushing shoulders with a world-famous hotel dynasty equals a compelling class of (West) Australian dining that feels very modern, very Perth and very essential.
The Guardian
28-03-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
Dining across the divide: ‘I see the welfare state as bloated, corrupt'
Occupation Retired marketing director Voting record Usually Conservative. Intends to vote Reform next time Amuse bouche Philip ate the first-ever Viennetta. Fresh out of university, he worked at Unilever, and they placed him with Wall's ice-cream. It was one of the happiest days of his life; he loves ice-cream Occupation Wine buyer Voting record Always Labour, but would vote Green if they stood a chance in his constituency Amuse bouche Doug is writing a book about the neuropsychology of taste – all the intangibles, from ambient noise to memory, that affect the way we perceive flavour Doug He seemed very friendly – I felt relieved. I'm not an argumentative type, and I felt that if we were going to disagree about things, we'd do it in a nice way and we'd be able to draw back from it. Philip He's a reasonable guy, like me. He likes to meet new people, and chat, and get a different perspective on life. I think we really hit it off. Doug I had fontina and sliced-potato pizza. Philip had an egg on his, and I thought, 'I know, I'll have an egg on mine. Why not? Live dangerously.' But that was a silly idea. Philip We had some starters, and I had a 'nduja pizza; I never know how to pronounce that. Doug People who are disabled, or have mental health problems or long-term illnesses, need to claim disability benefits – there aren't a lot of people taking the piss here. There should be more help. Benefits are so complicated, and cost so much to administer – there must be a better way. Philip I was quite shocked when I discovered working tax credit. If a business can't afford to pay people what they need to live on, they shouldn't be in business. How on earth did we get to a stage where we pay people who go to work? He cited social arguments, which were reasonable – I came back with a counterargument, because he runs a business: 'Do you pay your people enough that they don't have to claim benefits?' He said, 'Yeah, of course.' And I said, 'What about your competitors who don't? Aren't they getting an unfair advantage?' Doug The current government and the last government have tried to demonise claimants, but the problem is with employers. It must be more progressive to reduce business costs and ensure that workers are better paid. When people can't afford to live, they need to be able to top up. The minimum wage isn't really a living wage. Philip I see the welfare state as bloated, corrupt. Even Rachel Reeves is starting to agree with me now. The state can't keep paying people to stay at home, and to go to work. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion Doug Philip thinks that the world has always experienced climate change and there's nothing humans can do about it. He implied that the net-zero targets were a waste of time. Philip I'm not a denier, just the opposite – I say the climate always changes, it's changing minute by minute, decade by decade. I don't think anyone other than a historian in 500 years' time will be able to say what caused it. There's a degree of hubris, as well. King Canute got laughed at for thinking he could have that effect. Doug We're at an existential tipping point. We're already the agents of so many catastrophes. He says the world's population is too big – I agree, but I don't see how you get around that. You can't just tell countries to breed less. Philip I'm a strong recycler: I'm always praising myself when I put the bins out, how little there is in the black bin. You've got to do everything you can – but for every coal-fired power station we shut, the Chinese open 10. Doug He's against dogs. Not dogs in principle, but in cities, frightening the public, barking, possibly biting. I can understand that if he's had a negative experience with a dog. I love dogs. Philip A dog larger than a small child should be regulated as a dangerous dog. It should be muzzled. Doug We left it very nicely; I sent him a bottle of rosé. I'd meet again. There must be other things one could talk about other than politics. Philip We parted on good terms. He was fun, and his book sounds fun as well. Additional reporting: Kitty Drake Doug and Philip ate at Doughnation, London WC2. Want to meet someone from across the divide? Find out how to take part
Telegraph
01-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
The humble crumpet is back in fashion
A wave of nostalgia has hit the restaurant world. Whether French comfort food, nursery desserts or posh takes on the Viennetta, chefs are turning to old-school and childhood favourites. Nowhere is this more evident than the humble crumpet. At Lyle's, a Michelin-starred restaurant in east London, they are topped with oxtail, broccoli leaves and green sauce. At Glasgow's The Clarence, it's tandoori crab. In Cumbria, Rogan & Co serves a lamb broth and ramson version, with head chef Tom Reeves saying the crumpet, cooked in lamb fat, is the perfect base for soaking up flavours. Both Jamie Oliver and Paul Ainsworth featured crumpets in current cookbooks, while on a recent episode of the BBC's Great British Menu, one of the competing chefs served smoked boar fat crumpets. At Waitrose, sales are up 25 per cent on this time last year, while at Ocado they've jumped by 20 per cent over the past month, potentially down to their prominence on TikTok and Instagram, with videos showcasing their versatility – think crumpet pizzas or stuffed crumpets. Searches for 'sourdough crumpets' and 'gluten-free crumpets' at Ocado are also up. This most thoroughly British of griddle cakes – what goes better with tea? – is truly back. According to Ben Mervis, author of The British Cookbook, the earliest recipe comes from a 1769 book by Elizabeth Raffald called The Experienced English Housekeeper, though similar griddled breads 'seem to be common to ancient Celtic cultures'. Yet the new incarnation to be found on restaurant menus is a far cry from the Warburtons of yore, where butter, Marmite or honey would suffice as a post-school snack. At Rake, a new London restaurant, light, airy crumpets are topped with ray wing tenders and golden syrup. They are even making waves in Australia, where Melbourne's Reed House serves sourdough crumpets with a Guinness and cheddar sauce inspired by the famous St John rarebit. It's not the first time restaurant crumpets have caused a stir. Ottolenghi's outposts, including Rovi in Fitzrovia, have long served lobster crumpets but now the toppings are generally less rarefied, often tapping into a love of classic British ingredients. New north-west London spot Don't Tell Dad has a 'very popular' oxtail crumpet, says head chef Luke Frankie. 'They taste good but they're also fun and nostalgic. Most people have eaten crumpets, but probably not with oxtail.' View this post on Instagram A post shared by ROVI (@rovi_restaurant) Familiarity and nostalgia are two key reasons chefs believe they have become so widespread. Rob Boer has served crumpets in various iterations at The Mutton at Hazeley Heath in Hampshire since the restaurant opened more than two years ago. They have been 'probably one of the most consistent selling items on the menu', and toppings, including crab and chilli and slow-braised mutton shoulder, have 'flown out'. It helps that they're relatively easy to make, a simple starter or snack that can be zhuzhed up with creative toppings – a high-low combination diners appear to love. The yeasted batter is whisked and left for an hour or so to bubble up, then fried in crumpet rings for the traditional shape. While straightforward, chefs say if they're under or over-proved, they can become flat and stodgy or lack the distinctive holes. They're even gaining traction at Claridge's, where they have become one of the most popular snacks since the restaurant reopened in 2023, topped with Montgomery cheddar and – in a nod to the luxe surroundings – fine slices of truffle. 'It's a wonderful way to start a meal, especially with a glass of champagne,' says culinary director Simon Attridge. One of the reasons for their rise is sheer versatility – almost anything buttery or fatty works on a crumpet, which acts just like a flavour sponge. Attridge recommends cheese and Marmite, hot smoked salmon and horseradish, or slow-cooked lamb shoulder with mint yogurt. For Gordon Ker, founder of steakhouse chain Blacklock, where they've been served with cull yaw (a type of mutton) since 2020, they're 'especially popular because they combine traditional tastes with creative twists. Crumpets conjure up classic combinations like butter and jam, maybe Marmite if you're that way inclined, while cull yaw offers something unexpected. Comforting yet surprising, it's a great way to kick off your meal.' The next step is satisfying those with a sweet tooth. After all, for many, they're more frequently a sugary treat. 'My next mission is to work them into a dessert,' says Boer. Frankie agrees, adding they'd make a 'great ice cream sandwich'.
