Discoveries of joy in bitterness

Kim Knight praises two fine new examples of foodfocused writing.

You make your own cheese, your pastry is always from scratch and your recipe repertoire includes 14 ways with animal cheeks.

Food used to be a fuel; the definition of a good cook used to be someone who could whip up a sponge with no instruction – but today’s foodies want more.

They want to know the how, where and why of what they eat. Herewith, the perfect book.

Bitter is a fascinating read from an author whose last two titles were Fat and Bones. The new book was inspired, Jennifer McLagan writes, by a conversation about the modern grapefruit.

‘‘When was the last time you tasted a proper bitter grapefruit with white flesh?’’ she asks. ‘‘For me, it has been years. The grapefruit of my childhood have been replaced with pink, sweet ones.’’

They are, says McLagan, much less interesting to eat.

‘‘Bitter is a double-edged sword. It signals toxic and dangerous, but it can also be pleasurable and beneficial.’’

Grapefruit, accordingly, gets its own essay in a book spattered with short and very readable passages covering the psychology, science and history of the liquidly, pungently, subtly and surprisingly bitter. (Chocolate lovers should go straight to the final chapter: the ‘‘dark, forbidden and very bitter’’).

The recipes are interesting – how to make your own tonic water, horseradish and avocado quenelles, turnip icecream, tobacco chocolate truffles, pork chops in coffee blackcurrant sauce, etc – but it’s the bits in between that make Bitter an essential for any foodie’s library. From the history of brussels sprouts to the effect of metallic cutlery on our tastebuds to the milk-curdling effect of the cardoon thistle, this is food writing at its most interesting. Food binds families. And blessed is the family that includes a cooking guru and a really great writer, because when recipes collide with storytelling, true legacies are born.

Margaret and Me is a granddaughter’s account of life at her grandmother’s apron strings: Kate Gibbs on Margaret Fulton, the matriarch of Australian cooking.

There are 50-plus recipes, but at 310 pages, this is more of a glimpse into the Fulton family archives than a traditional cookbook.

Gibbs presents vignettes of her grandmother’s rise to culinary icon, interspersed with snapshots from Gibbs’ own personal life and career as a Sydney-based food and travel writer.

The anecdotes cover tough ground – divorces, break-ups, the changing role of women – but they’re told kindly and gently.

The food offerings span generations. Grandma’s Scottish shortbread, scotch broth, scones and potted shrimps; the worldtravelling granddaughter’s take on octopus salad, Vietnamese pho and ochazuke with assorted pickles.

Gibbs neatly cements her grandmother’s place in Australian culinary history, while giving the reader what feels like privileged insight into how she got there. Stories like the tale of the first royalty cheque. Buy a fridge, suggested her family, and replace that icechest that needs replenishing at least twice a week.

‘‘If success is a new fridge,’’ Fulton is reported to have retorted, ‘‘who needs it?’’

She spent the money instead on a ceramic bird, a new sofa and her daughter Suzanne’s course fees at the Cordon Bleu cooking school in London. In the United Kingdom, Suzanne met a Kiwi boy called Robert Gibbs. The author is the result of that union – and the foodwriting world is more delicious for it. Although it’s won hundreds of awards at international and domestic competitions, you may not have heard of Steam Brewing Company. Although the Aucklandbased brewery has produced many of New Zealand’s most respected craft beers, most have been sold under other brand names.

Steam’s production manager Shane Morley is one of New Zealand’s most qualified and respected brewers. Having previously worked for Lion, Anheuser-Busch and Independent Liquor, Shane has brewed an enormous range of beer styles and overseen the brewing of a vast number of award-winning beers.

In recent years I’ve had the opportunity to judge with Shane at several beer competitions and have developed an enormous respect for his discerning palate and technical expertise. It’s no surprise that Steam produces such consistently fine beers.

Two of the latest Steam-brewed beers to impress me were sent to me recently by Bach Brewing, a brand owned by Hawke’s Baybased marketing specialist Craig Cooper. Alongside images of a Kiwi summer at the beach, Craig’s website (bachbrewing.co.nz)

BEER states: ‘‘At the heart of Bach Brewing is our passion for craft beer and our love for the Kiwi bach . . . escape, freedom, simplicity and time together with family and friends’’.

With a wealth of liquor industry experience, Craig clearly knows his beer and has a good awareness of which styles are in vogue. In recent months Bach Brewing’s range of robust, hopforward beers has been supplemented with a pair of less potent but equally impressive ales.

Weighing in at a modest 3.7 per cent and subtitled an ‘‘Extra Session Ale’’, Bach Brewing All Day Ale pours a bright goldenamber colour beneath a full white head. Generous additions of New Zealand-grown Fuggles, Centennial and Chinook hops provide plenty of juicy ripe stonefruit and grassiness, but there’s also an interesting dusty, mineral-like note, which lingers on the palate and contributes to the beer’s flinty, dry finish. All in