Hi Martin. We are back from the land of oversized portions of mostly confused flavour combinations in dishes. God, have they put a whole new spin on traditional Italian dishes.

Oh well, we got back home and fell on a lamb and shiraz dinner, boy was that good, oh, and a cup of tea, a little luxury that they simply do not get.

I loved your vivid description of working in a restaurant, boy, did you nail it, and what a shame more people in our position don’t do it. I once heard a well known person who was of influence during the ‘80s and ‘90s describing to a novice how a restaurant kitchen worked.

She said that the chefs all stopped to work on one table. When I explained to her how wrong she was, she got herself into a real bind. I do not miss people like her at all.

As one person we met in America said – when talking about food writers, “What gives them the right to talk to us like we know nothing when they evidently know less, and talk down to us?”

I watched Rachael Ray (hottest food TV person in the USA) and co-host show us how to make a proper peanut butter, tomato and bacon sandwich – no wonder it doesn’t get any better.

We had two memorable meals in the five week holiday. One of them being the home cooked Christmas lunch by an old school mate of mine (we went to school together 53 years ago). Roasted whole organic turkey and the trimmings…wonderful.

PS What was startling in America was the diminished amount of Australian wines on shelves and wine lists – brand loyalty? And Californian wines…so expensive, but must say very good, by and large.

Scarborough Semillon 2011 – $20 ˜˜˜- ***. Pokolbin, New South Wales. Aromatic nose of hay and young melon along with a hint of lemon oil. Dry, tangy, citric palate with a lip-smacking finish. Fine aperitif. .

Frogmore Creek Fumé Blanc 2011 – $28 ˜˜˜- ***. Tasmanian sauvignon blanc. Herbal-edged nose with a hint of tomato leaf and passionfruit, underscored by biscuity notes from new and aged French oak. The palate is fresh and very dry with a good length of flavour leading to a tangy, sherbert-like finish.

Hugh Hamilton The Floozie Sangiovese Rosé 2011 – $22.50 ˜˜- **. McLaren Vale, South Australia. Pale rosy pink. Sweet fruit nose hinting at new season cherries. Lively palate shows summer berries and finishes just off-dry. Try with a picnic lunch by the river.

Campbells Sparkling Shiraz – $30 ˜˜˜- ***. Rutherglen, Victoria. Foamy purple to black in the glass. Lovely blackberry nose. Full on palate of dark berries and dark chocolate that finishes firm enough to accompany a Christmas roast.

Cooks Lot Pinot Noir 2009 – $20 ˜˜˜- ***. Mudgee and Orange, New South Wales. Hues of cherry skin in the glass. Strawberries and light smoky notes on the nose. The strawberry character continues on the palate above a sub-structure of integrated tannins – these lead to a dry and persistent finish.

Raidis Estate Billy Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon $23 ˜˜˜- ***. Dense crimson hues. True varietal notes of black currant on the nose along with a hint of smoky oak. The palate reminds me of those black currant pastilles you used to get, the intensity not the sweetness that is. Tannins are nicely incorporated and the wine leaves an overall impression of smoothness.

Turners Crossing Shiraz Viognier 2008 – $25 ˜˜˜˜- ****. Bendigo, Victoria. Black with a purple edge in the glass. Dusty nose with notes of Black Forest cake and a suggestion of liquorice allsorts. A complex and substantial wine in the mouth with an attack of assertive yet integrated tannins supporting flavours of blackberry conserve, cocoa powder, allspice and leather.

Yanjing Beer – about $3 per stubbie. From Beijing, China. Made from malted barley, hops, spring water and rice. Full strength – 4.5% alcohol. A light refreshing style with nice hoppy aromatics. The palate has sweet edges with a background of malt and finishes with mild hops bitterness.

Two Elk Apple Cider – 330ml 4-pack $16. Sweden, 4.5% alcohol. For some reason this made me think of elks acting out the old two dogs joke. A delicate light style. Pleasant autumnal apple aromatics with a palate that will suit drinkers who like cider at the sweeter end of the spectrum.

Ratings

*****˜˜˜˜˜ – outstanding

****˜˜˜˜ – classy

***˜˜˜ – first-rate

**˜˜ – fine drinking

*˜ – commercial

This is a major step forward in the evolution of the simple corkscrew and blade we know so well. Previously famous only for chocolate, cuckoo clocks, yodelling, holey cheese and secret bank accounts, the ingenious Swiss have come up with a new twist on the historic gadget that is sure to rival the Swatch in sales volume.

Designed by a committee comprising one Swiss watchmaker, two Masters of Wine, and a drunk chosen at random from a local wine bar, the Swiss Army Waiters’ Friend provides a number of traditional functions along with a wealth of breathtaking innovations. All made possible by recent advances in the fields of nano-technology and artificial intelligence.

Features

I will list just a few of this indispensable tool’s major features.

New: a round grippy thing for loosening screwcaps on wine bottles, also serves as a tourniquet. A blade that doubles as an Android/iPad compatible micro SD card for handy data storage. A toothpick that also serves as a GPS.

A breathalyser. Tongs for the removal of recalcitrant champagne corks. A tastevin. A bottle top remover. A glass cutter for turning empty beer bottles into decorative vases. A blade modelled on the Bowie Knife. This, as well as being useful for removing bottle capsules and self-defence, has engraved upon it in tiny script: a vintage chart, a number of food with wine suggestions and useful conversational wine terms such as, “peaches, melons, figs, mercaptan” etc.

There is a magnifying glass/microscope for reading information engraved on the blade, and what’s more, this glass can be manipulated when hungry (in a somewhat cumbersome way) to char-grill a steak using the sun’s rays. In a similar fashion it will serve admirably to warm a glass of post-luncheon Cognac.

Cunningly hidden is a small compartment in which to write your name and address in case you have drunk so much that you forget who you are and where you live. Also, for the tired and emotional, there is a minuscule air bag that will inflate explosively should the owner fall over, thus saving him or her from injury and humiliation. The airbag also works as a pillow for a boozy snooze as well as an instant life raft if, when less than sober, one stumbles into the river whilst meandering home.

Medical usage

For the hungover there is a cleverly incorporated phial containing capsules of vitamin B, aspirin and Alka Seltzer. And if good health is a concern one can quickly self-test for cirrhosis using the SAWF medically approved hollow surgical steel needle to sample cells via a blind liver biopsy. Surviving brain cells are similarly accessible.

(Being hollow, the needle doubles as a straw. This can be handy when taken thirsty on a long trip with no gritty anodised aluminium cups in the glove box and a flagon of cheap port in the car trunk saying, “Drink me.”)

Scientifically inclined users can utilise the SAWF’s wee gas spectrometer attachment for immediate study of the biopsied cells and, obviously, it will also be frequently employed to examine the constituents of a suspect wine before calling on the sommelier for another bottle.

Least but not last is the thingy for removing stones from horses’ hooves when riding to hounds at your friendly vigneron’s country estate.

The ultimate feature of the SAWF is the patented Crick-Watson double-helix corkscrew. As well as being a most efficient cork extractor this is quite useful for illustrating the wonders of recombinant DNA when, as sometime happens, one is called upon unexpectedly to deliver an important scientific lecture.

Walmart will shortly be advertising the SAWF at the astonishingly low price of $3.95, plus post and packing of $79.95. Or customers can choose to pay in four equal monthly instalments of $59.95. This imaginative doodad which, while more than a knife, is, admittedly, less than a butler, is a bargain whichever way you look at it, and one should be in every winelover’s Christmas stocking this season.

Well, I was serving and waiting but as I quickly discovered I was in a definite no standing zone.

Of the many jobs I’ve had, waiting in a restaurant wasn’t one of them. How hard could it be? I asked myself.

So I’d asked Ipazzi restaurateurs Ruby and Fabio if I could observe and help on the restaurant floor for an evening. Foolishly, I thought, they agreed.

First off, I helped set tables and learned the table numbering layout.

Then I thought I’d be a kitchen hand for a bit and hung around backstage as Fabio prepped and created sauces for the evening rush.

The industrial-sized stove radiated what seemed like megawatts of heat, and what with chef Fabio flaming away with juggled frying pans and all, and despite the extractor fans sucking like a reverse steam locomotive, I found it too hot. So, you guessed it, I got out.

Too hot for some

Friday night, about half the tables were booked, and it looked to me disappointingly quiet. Then, over a short space of time, booked guests and walk-ins arrived in a rush and all the tables were full.

Suddenly I was showing people to their seats, pouring cold water, beer, wine, handing out menus and trying to pretend I was a waiting professional.

Fabio was dishing up the food as fast as we could serve it. The kitchen, which earlier I had found sauna-like, became hotter. Yet strangely, the service kept purring along like a well-tuned V8.

One major difficulty with table service was that Ipazzi is not like some Noosa restaurants that have a slightly formal air about them. It is more like the family run Italian restaurants I was familiar with in Lygon Street Carlton for so many years. The clientele treat the staff as family. They want to chat.

People kept asking Ruby about eight-month old Luigi  - who sleeps peacefully through the mayhem in an alcove behind the scenes.

Diners asked me where I was from. When I mentioned a wine background, they started telling me their wine anecdotes. It quickly became apparent that I would have to balance chat with work if everyone was to eat in a timely way.

Back in the kitchen, Fabio was a dynamo of nervous energy. Bopping to an internal iTunes player, he did the kitchen two-step as he skipped from stove to plate up, each move synchronised with the order of service. Not a move wasted, not a drop of sweat, not an angry gesture, never a harsh word, and no swearing.

Slowly the entrees, the mains, the desserts and the booze disappeared and soon after, the guests.

No time to relax. Dishes had to be washed, floors to be mopped, tables to be re-set and the kitchen organised for the following evening.

But at last we sat down outside for the staff dinner, a bottle of sauvignon blanc, a bowl of gnocchi here, a four-cheese pizza there and chat about how the night had gone.

I hadn’t dropped anything, or delivered the wrong meal. Nobody had guessed it was my first and only night as a waiter, and one lady commented on my professional service.

Although I’ve eaten in numerous restaurants and seen innumerable cheffy TV programs, they were nothing like the real thing and I was left with a new respect for waitstaff, chefs and front of house operations.

Did the experience inspire me to look for a new career as a waitperson? Nope, too hard. I’ll stick to dining.

Lock & Key Sauvignon Blanc 2011 – $15 – ˜˜**. Orange, New South Wales. Light in the glass, edge of green. Sauvignon style at the tropical rather than herbal end of the spectrum. Generous fruit salad nose. Soft and full in the mouth, with hints of pineapple and lychee. Medium dry to finish.

Alta Adelaide Hills Pinot Grigio 2011 – $20 – ˜˜˜***. Almost water pale. Limes and white blossoms permeate the bouquet. Clean, dry style with lovely citrus-oriented flavours and an edge of sherbert like tang to close.

Toolangi Yarra Valley Chardonnay 2009 – RRP $25 – ˜˜**. Bright light straw hues. White peach and apricot on the nose, along with a touch of toasted French oak. More stone fruit in the mouth and dried apples, all nicely balanced with biscuity wood and just enough acid to carry to an off-dry finish.

Bouldevines Marlborough Pinot Noir 2009 – $32.50 – ***˜˜˜. New Zealand. Medium crimson shades. Dark cherries and raspberries on a savoury-edged nose. Full-on style with soft tannins and a load of ripe, summer berries. The dry and firm finish counterbalances the fruity lusciousness.

Echelon Petit Verdot 2008 – $28 – ˜˜˜***. Mid-ruby. Nose of blueberries and blood plums with light oaky vanilla. Solid berry characters on the palate combine with mildly assertive tannins and synthesise into a satisfyingly chewy mouthfeel.

Rutherglen Estates Durif 2007 – $40 – ˜˜˜˜****. Dense to opaque ruby-red. Warm, almost porty nose. Lip-smacking, chewy tannins lead off in this robust and complex red. It’s a heady melange of plums, blackberries, pencil shavings, anise, mocha, leather, and alcohol. Not for the faint of heart. Serve with a substantial main course and plan for an after dinner nap.

Wynns Coonawarra Estate Shiraz 2010 – Up to $15 – ˜˜˜***. Mid-red, purple hues. Blackberries and unassuming oak invite further nosing. Good fruit intensity in the mouth: if you can imagine a non-cloying sauce composed of 85% chocolate infused with blackberry syrup you might be there.

Sierra Nevada Pale Ale $4.50 and more the stubbie. ˜˜˜- ***. This is the best US beer I’ve tasted in a long time. A bottle-conditioned (yeast in bottle), full-strength beer (5.6% alcohol) from California. The brew is packed with flavour, slight malt, lovely fragrant hops and a long smooth satisfying palate. It’s up there with my favourite Australian beer, Coopers Sparkling Ale.

Ratings

*****˜˜˜˜˜ – outstanding

****˜˜˜˜ – classy

***˜˜˜ – first-rate

**˜˜ – good stuff

*˜ – commercial

Our apartment, only a stroll from the Vieux Port, is on the sixth floor. The decor is modern with smart furnishings and looks out over the city roofline. Each morning we watch as a large seagull regurgitates fish for her obese chick nesting just outside the window.

Marseille chick waiting for fishy petit dejeuner

(The apartment is in fact the best accommodation we had on the trip. See details here.)

Nearby is the main commercial thoroughfare, Rue Canebiere, popularly known by English speakers as ‘Can o’ Beer’. The name is derived from long-disappeared hemp farms that provided cordage for sailing ships in the olden days.

The Vieux Port area is a sunny and pleasant maritime environment with thousands of pleasure craft moored; the waterside surrounded by lively fish markets and souvenir stalls. Nearby streets and plazas are packed with bars and restaurants.

Vieux Port

Walk a few blocks away from the quay however, and you might fantasize that you are in another country: Morocco? Algeria? Shops in the alleyways sell myriad African and Middle Eastern goods. Exotic fabrics and clothes hang from awnings and you walk past open “oriental” patisseries and savour the fragrance of restaurant kitchens that are definitely not Cuisine Francaise.

Hang on to your valuables

People in both Australia and in France warned us to “take care” in Marseille; it made us a little apprehensive at first.

The city certainly has a seamy side. Beggars and drunks are inevitably part of the street scene, even more so in the laneways. Cosmetically enhanced women hang out here and there, waiting no doubt to act as eager guides for the inquisitive tourist. In the background, day and night, is a cacophony of wailing sirens.

After day two, having witnessed a couple of bag snatches, we tuck passports and money under our shirts and the digital camera in my pocket and leave everything else in the apartment. This simple move inspires confidence and so we wander pretty much wherever we like. Always, as it were, with eyes open,

Recommended sightseeing

Les Calanques – Calanques is the local term for the deep bays or coves that dot the arid rocky coast south of Marseille. From Vieux Port, we take a two and a half hour boat trip to explore a few of these. Among the sights are old pillboxes, apparently dating from World War Two, tiny fishing villages, and maniacal rock climbers scaling the overhanging cliffs.

Les Calanques - en route

Wine

A cheapy from the local supermarket was a Les Figuiers AOC Bandol (low-yielding vines) 2005 – a bargain at €6. Blended from fifty percent mourvedre, with the balance grenache. A lighter bodied red with, given its age, forward tannins and acid. Plentiful cherries and blackberries showed in the mouth. Definitely a main course red. Not the quality of wine you will ever find at this price in Australia.

Leaving

Twenty-one days in France, including four short days in sunny Marseille and suddenly it’s time to head back to Noosa.

Highlights of the trip? Monuments, museums, galleries, landscapes, obviously. But standouts were the simple things: the people, the wine, the bread, the cheese.

Disclosure: All fares, meals and accommodation paid for by the writer.

Waiting for a bus

First stop in Aix is for a refreshing drink at a sidewalk bar. Among the thronging crowds in the Cours Mirabeau, we sip a milky, pungent pastis.

Cocktails with Cézanne

That evening, as we take a stroll past the Musee Granet, a departing guest hands us his invitation to cocktails for the opening of the Cézanne exhibition two days later (Collection Planque).

As if we own the place, we walk in among the dignitaries and culturati, me in my cocktail outfit of Dunlop Volleys and frayed Nepalese cut off shorts. Luckily, we have missed the speeches and immediately join the guests tucking in to huge plates of food and generous glasses of red.

Lucy asks what we should say if one of the many security people ask who we are. “I’ll tell them, ‘I’m the cultural attaché from the Orstrylian Ministry of the Yartz!’” I reply.

Encounter in Aix

A maybe see

Paul Cézanne’s Studio is a good walk out of town and visitors can wander around the room where he created his masterpieces.

Preserved pretty much as he left it when he died in 1906, the studio is a big tall space with north-facing ceiling to floor windows. Bits of Cézanne bric-a-brac adorn the walls and some of the items are recognisable from his paintings – of which there are none present.

Worth seeing, but not worth going to see, to paraphrase Sam Johnson.

Cezanne's well

Recommended dining

Restaurant La Medina de Fes, 5 rue Campra, Aix en Provence. This pleasant, cheap and unpretentious Moroccan restaurant is just off the main drag. They serve us delicious couscous and tagine and a stand out marinated artichoke/orange salad. A small bottle of Gris de Gris accompanies the meal – fruity but very dry, from Meknes in Morocco.

Domaine Vouniere in the market

Dinner in the apartment

Provencal omelette de Martin. Oeufs, bright yellowy girolles, young purple garlic, EVOO, avec mesclun et vinaigrette. The wine, bought at the local market, is substantial in body, fruity, and slightly petillant. Domaine Vouniere, NV organic merlot, Vin de Pays du Var, €4.50.

The glasses were the Bordeaux, Burgundy, Sauvignon Blanc and Montrachet models. For comparison, wines were also tasted in stock standard ISO glasses.

Mark made a strong case that the nose of a wine is the main factor in dictating its taste. He then demonstrated quite convincingly how different Riedel shapes enhanced their particular varietal counterparts. With a bit of deft glass-swapping he also showed how an unattuned shape could in fact diminish enjoyment.

The ISO glasses fared quite badly in all cases.

On the evening the standout matching was a Stoniers Reserve 2008 Pinot Noir in the Burgundy stem.

Thinks, I’d like to see a blind tasting exercise to really put the varietal glasses through their paces.

Thinks again, glassware enhancement of nose and taste must always be based on the assumption that the varietal tasted is true to type.

bouillabaisse

We got together with 20 friends and had a great bouillabaisse in Jean’s garden, while enjoying the heat of this late Indian summer (the real summer seemed to miss us altogether…). Jean Canale prepares his bouillabaisse in a huge iron pot over a wood fire.

The fish that go into Bouillabaisse vary in species and size, and usually include all kinds of rock fish, plus some larger firm fish like conger eel, angler fish, gurnard, weever, john dory, scorpion fish, etc.. Some of the fish are decidedly weird, like the Uranoscope or white rascasse, with eyes on the top of its head looking upward, and horns.

bouillabaisse

Preparing a Bouillabaisse is all about precise timing. For one, you need to have a large variety of rock fish to create the soup base, and the more species you put in, the better it tastes; these are cooked for a long time with olive oil, garlic, onions, potatoes, saffron, tomatoes and fennel.  Then you need to add some larger fish with firm meat, and you need to know exactly when to put them in the soup so that by the time it is ready they are all cooked to perfection.

Jean Canale and Jean Philippe Héaumé

The fish are served first, while they are hot, and the soup is served afterwards, with croutons and rouille. The result is quite astounding, especially considering how mediocre a restaurant Bouillabaisse is, even in places reputed to be authentic. There are so many tastes happening that the dish is almost as complex aromatically as some of the wines we had. One of the friends present is a wine merchant, Jean Philippe Héaumé, who happened to be in the area, and he decided to match the bouillabaisse with some great wines from the Loire.

Helping Jean with the soup

For starters, along with green and black tapenade and some freshly caught mussels from Cartoux, we sipped bubbly  Vouvray Brut, Clos Naudin Réserve 2002, Philippe Foreau, a special reserve recently disgorged and seriously perfectly comparable to a vintage Champagne (minus the price).

The bouillabaisse was accompanied by three great Loire wines:

Jasnières, Prémices 2008, Eric Nicolas

Savennières, Le Bel Ouvrage 2008, Damien Laureau

Saumur, Clos de Guichaux 2008. Romain Guiberteau

Apple tarts concluded the meal along with some very fine sweet Vouvray moelleux, 2008, by François Pinon, as always with great Chenin the sweetness is perfectly tamed by the acidity of good Loire wines.

Geoff was (and is) an enthusiastic wine collector and, unusually for the times, didn’t only drink fine wine but also kept extensive notes on those he tasted and the various meals they accompanied.

Earlier this year he compiled a selection of these notes (14 November 1974 to 19 July 1977) and was kind enough to send me a copy. I have since told him that he could have had another career as a wine writer.

This excerpt, one of many, is from a meal we shared at Restaurant Chez Bebert on Tuesday 13 January 1976.

With garlic scallops, the McWilliams Mount Pleasant Anne Riesling, 1966. Rich honey-gold colour. The aroma was heavy and musty…good regional character with considerable acidity providing a pleasant balanced feel. Past its peak, but will continue to build great character.

And, Leo Buring Reserve Bin DWC II Barossa Valley Rhine Riesling, 1973. Exceptional quality dry white…delicate varietal expression, balanced, fresh and soft.

With steak, the Leo Buring Claret DR 163, 1964. Soft, broad, slightly earthy nose redolent of Hunter reds. Medium bodied satisfying palate sitting between the lush and the austere. Well balanced with a sharp tannic lift to the finish. Very good wine.

And, the Seppelt Cabernet Sauvignon TTI 47, 1971, Barossa Valley. This won the 1972 Jimmy Watson Trophy for best 1971 dry red. Big cabernet with a great deal of fruit flavor and rather prominent oak on the finish. A low tannin very good, lush wine, but maybe a little soft and fat.

Notes Copyright © 2011 Geoff Parker.