Edward Abbott’s 1864 book, , the first Australian cookbook, is a brilliant, if slightly misleading tome of what we ate. Heavily borrowing from, or influenced by, other cookbooks of the time, he uses native ingredients alongside French technique and some otherworldly sentiments.
Yet, surprisingly, much of what he writes is still relevant. Though, now our very Euro-centric food has been embellished by all comers, from every corner of the globe. It took a while, but what we eat today is influenced by all kinds of cuisines.
Despite successive migrations from China, for instance, including many in the 1800s, real Chinese cuisine is only now entering the local diet. Our fear of other cultures has broken down and now the humble stir-fry is on the average Australian’s dinner table at least once a week. Hummus, that Middle Eastern staple, is for sale in supermarkets. Laksa is a dish with cult status and Israeli couscous and Persian fairy floss don’t raise an eyebrow amongst those who have opened their minds, and their pantries, in the last two decades. And how lucky we are.
Now our very Euro-centric food has been embellished by all comers, from every corner of the globe. It took a while, but what we eat today is influenced by all kinds of cuisines.
The Italians, who could only find olive oil in tiny bottles at the chemist when they arrived in great numbers in the 1950s, have ensured good pasta (not just spaghetti in a tin), good oil, and increasingly interesting salumi, are a part of the local culinary landscape. Aided by the Greeks, that same oil can be found in moussaka, in takeaways, in all manner of homes, along with magnificent ingredients such as feta, filo pastry, tzatziki. And – shock horror – garlic. Once maligned and treated with contempt as the food of immigrants and labourers, it’s now in just about every Tasmanian vegie garden of note, and rarely out of arm’s reach.
As Koreans introduce us to kimchi, the Vietnamese offer a herb omelette wrapped in lettuce. As we learn that Indian food isn’t the tucker of one country, but a magnificent, edible history of multiple regions, we become a nation enriched. Where I grew up thinking good food was the preserve of birthdays, Christmas or special occasions, I now know good food can be as simple as a risotto. As noble as a well-cooked yabby. It can be as easy to find as an apple in April, as breathtakingly good as sea urchin, or as magnificent as a just-dug spud. Put these ingredients with some Chinkiang black vinegar. Or some aged balsamic. Or with a cheese made using European techniques, or oil grown by an Italian migrant, and you’ll see what we’ve gained. I’ve learned that we can eat well three times a day, not three times a year, and be richer for the experience. So I thank successive waves of newcomers for showing us the way.
Recipes
Source: Gourmet Farmer Afloat
