Melting moments

STEVE CUMPER PREFERS NOT TO CORRUPT THE CLASSICS — UNLESS HE’S THE ONE DOING IT.

first to admit that when chefs take a fairly prosaic food item, such as a toastie, and go all ‘chefy’ on it you can bet two things will happen. One, it’ll be more expensive and, two, they’ll overdo it and muck the whole thing up!

What many of these chefs fail to understand is this; you can’t improve on what is already a good thing. Not just a good thing, but a universally accepted standard that has people coming back for more of the same.

For evidence of this, one need look no further than how many fish and chip shops now have the word ‘gourmet’ in front of them, or the proliferation of trendy burger ‘bars’ that seem to pop up overnight like mushrooms after a shower. I’m no fast-food marketer but — to use their language — I’m pretty sure ‘heavy users’ of fish and chip shops or burger joints aren’t interested in how the ‘chef’ will interpret their favourites and they certainly don’t want to pay over the odds for the privilege. This is why the ‘grand opening’ sign is often quickly replaced by the ‘for lease’ poster on so many of these businesses.

Which brings me back to the toastie, the sandwich staple that countless takeaway shops, bakeries, corner stores and milk bars have satiated the hunger of generations with. For many, a toastie in a café was their first experience of eating out, as it was mine.

In the 1970s, Melbourne’s Swanston Street had dozens of identical cafés where you could choose a song from the jukebox, become delirious with the saccharine aroma of those luridly yellow pineapple doughnuts, sit in a booth and, of course, order a toastie. My dear old Ma used to take me to the Six Ways Café at Camberwell Junction where I would marvel at how the Kraft Single partnering the slice of ham in my toastie would congeal and begin to solidify as it cooled. It’s where I also acquired the wisdom learnt by toastie lovers everywhere that tomato should be included at your own peril after my bottom lip and chin was repeatedly scalded by cruel hot tomato slices intent on punishing me for daring to include it.

Recently I stumbled upon an old school café where I enjoyed a delicious toastie that transported me back to those simple times. Enthused by my encounter, what did I do? What every chef usually does — I came back to my own kitchen and knocked out a deluxe version of what I’d just eaten!

My toastie has the luxury of creamy mushrooms and the pungency of earthy raclette cheese, which makes for ideal snacking on a chilly day spent inside. It also makes a nice change from your everyday ham and cheese, which I know makes me sound like a hypocrite but at least I resisted putting the word ‘gourmet’ in front of it!

Steve Cumper is a chef and funnyman who lives in Tasmania and dreams of one day owning a fleet of holiday vans called Wicked Cumpers.

MUSHROOM TOASTIE

Serves 4

100g butter

1 brown onion, finely chopped 3 sprigs fresh thyme

2 garlic cloves, crushed 500g button mushrooms, sliced 250g shiitake mushrooms, sliced 250g oyster mushrooms, sliced 2 cups pure cream pinch nutmeg

½ cup finely grated parmesan extra 40g butter, softened 8 slices sourdough bread

8 slices raclette cheese* sea salt, to sprinkle