A taste of Europe in Auckland

Summer has arrived in Europe, and for the first time since 2004 I'm not there. Not that June in Auckland is proving all that bad - the temperature gauge has crept up to 17 degrees celsius today and Sunday's forecast cold snap came to nothing. But I've still got itchy feet thinking of those fortunate souls sitting on olive-tree-shaded terraces in the south of France, devouring fat spears of creamy-white asparagus and contemplating the sparkling Med. I'm even envying Londoners, for whom a rare sunny June weekend brings the chance to head to one of the city's excellent parks armed with a picnic blanket, punnets of oversized, juicy strawberries and a chilled bottle of riesling.

Over the past couple of months I've been thrilled to discover that even though we're down under, we don't have to go without the gourmet treats Europe has to offer. My exploration of Auckland's markets and foodie shops has revealed many of my old favourites available in abundance here, thanks to the efforts of a growing number of importers. In London I bade an emotional farewell to plump, meaty Manzanilla olives, fearing we wouldn't meet again until my next visit to Europe - only to find them on the shelf at Sabato in Mt Eden. Sabato also stocks Leone, those gorgeous bronze-die-cast sweets found on bar counters throughout Italy, along with Italian licorice in pretty vintage tins.

At Nosh I've found reasonably-priced 00 flour for my pasta-making adventures, various cured meats such as serrano ham from Spain and prosciutto from Italy sliced to order, and marinated anchovy fillets. I'm going to thread these onto toothpicks with the aforementioned Manzanilla olives and some pickled chillies (also spotted at Sabato) to make the small-sized but big-flavoured tapa I enjoyed in San Sebastian in northern Spain. Over there it was excellent washed down with a glass of txacoli, the local fresh, young and slightly fizzy white wine. I'll have to think up a suitable wine match for it here.

Then there's the excellent French-themed farmers' market in Parnell, La Cigale. Their boxes of frozen Paneton croissants, which you prove and bake yourself at home, turn out just like the real thing - as if you'd just popped down to your local boulangerie in France. You can even buy the excellent French Bonne Maman jam at La Cigale to go with them.

The market feels a bit like a village market in France, with its gazebo-shaded tables laden with produce. You can get a freshly-grilled croque monsieur - the ultimate hangover cure - or a crepe to munch on while you peruse the wine shelves, which display an interesting variety of European wines.

Finally, macaroon success

This blog is supposed to be about eating away from home, but today I'm writing about macaroons, which I have been attempting to make at home. They're French, so I figure they have a place here. 


I've had a thing for proper macaroons since I first tried them at Laduree in the Printemps mall on a work trip to Paris a few years back. I don't have a sweet tooth but I do love contrasting textures in food. So these decadent treats, with their thin crunchy shells yielding to chewy insides and creamy fillings, occupy a high rank in my gastronomic top-10. Having eschewed the cupcake craze, this is one foodie bandwagon I've gleefully jumped aboard.


They're tricky little bastards though. Several attempts over the past few weeks have ended in disaster - cracked tops and spreading in the oven being the main issues (although the resulting "meringue biscuits" were yummy).


So you can imagine my delight yesterday evening when, after I'd all but given up on the damn things, Henry had a go and produced an almost-perfect batch on his second attempt. Ok, a few were cracked, but there were enough smooth-topped, crinkly-footed, perfectly round little marvels for me to assemble a baker's dozen of finished macaroons, held together with chocolate ganache. 

But I've now been upstaged in my own kitchen. This obviously won't do, so I'm more determined than ever to master the macaroon. Henry reckons my principal mistakes have been a) not beating the egg whites enough; b) not folding the mixture together thoroughly enough; and c) having the oven too hot. More thorough beating of the egg whites will solve the spreading problem. The folding is tricky - you don't want to over-fold and lose all the air in the mixture, but under-folding means the biscuits won't form a strong, smooth top. The mixture needs to be thick, but fairly runny and glossy too. And next time I'll try baking them on the conventional bake setting rather than fan-bake, which I'm hoping might eliminate cracked tops altogether.