While in South Australia I found this fantastic cookbook from, ‘Great South Australian Restaurants’. Best idea ever. It happened to have the recipe for the meal I ate in the French restaurant La Guillotine. The meal was amazing so I excitedly copied the recipe down (along with quite a few others). And I’m attempting it tonight.
I never buy meat at the butchers, but I had to buy veal and a lot of it. The guy was nice and found me what I needed, however I think I should’ve halved the recipe when I saw the amount. I was already somewhat embarrassed at my lack of knowledge and imposition on this very nice butcher so I bought the lot. It wasn’t quite as cheap as I would’ve liked. I now have a volume of meat equivalent to a small child’s head. It is about the nicest looking meat I have ever cut, practically zero fat. But when you buy stock standard packs from the supermarket, it’s probably not that surprising.
Needless to say, we are inviting people over for dinner tonight.
oo-er!
I love cooking 🙂
its so nice to find great recipes, especially those from a restaurant!
Please let us know how it all goes 🙂
‘Meat is murder’, by ‘The Smiths’ is one of my favorite albums. And the guilt…
Heifer whines could be human cries
Closer comes the screaming knife
This beautiful creature must die
This beautiful creature must die
A death for no reason
And death for no reason is murder
And the flesh you so fancifully fry
Is not succulent, tasty or kind
Its death for no reason
And death for no reason is murder
And the calf that you carve with a smile
Is murder
And the turkey you festively slice
Is murder
Do you know how animals die ?
Kitchen aromas arent very homely
Its not comforting, cheery or kind
Its sizzling blood and the unholy stench
Of murder
Its not natural, normal or kind
The flesh you so fancifully fry
The meat in your mouth
As you savour the flavour
Of murder
No, no, no, its murder
No, no, no, its murder
Oh … and who hears when animals cry ?
And so, Rebecca’s transformation into a wife was complete.
I can just see you wrinsing your hands at 2 and 3 in the morning muttering “out, out damned spot”