The golden tetrahedron

My cold fingers are crying out for buttery, soft cow hide to keep them safe and warm from this utterly inconsiderate cold snap. My winter skirts are pleading for slick black, yet fun and cheeky, hosiery to partner them on outings.

Sale or not, I must deny them both, having received a couple of friendly letters from the tax commissioner. I feel like I did when I was in the Golden Quadrangle in Milan, where every next step was another high-end designer store; another unaffordable material lust; temptation; being so close yet so very far.

So with my poor frozen fingers distracting me from purchases of the Golden Quadrangle nature, I turn my thoughts to a more affordable, satisfying golden tetrahedron. I find it difficult to resist samosas; whether for their snack-friendly pastry packaging, likeness to dumplings or that heady mix of vegetables and spices.

Samosas from Jaipur Sweets, Elizabeth Street, Sydney

I get my samosa fix at Jaipur Sweets and am always amazed by the array of completely foreign sweets and desserts, as well as savoury dishes like thali, which I'm yet to sample. It's the cheap and cheerful "polyhedron composed of four triangular faces, three of which meet at each vertex" that keep me coming back.

Samosas

The bubbly and blistered deep-fried flour pastry is remarkably thin for such a large package and definitely a key and favourite samosa component for me. Ignoring the oil slicks, I like to start by breaking off the uppermost tip and then munching my way to the base.

Spice-packed samosa filling

Filled with an incredibly spicy filling of potatoes, peas, carrot, cashews, cumin seeds, coriander seeds and other tongue tinglers, these samosas come with a stickily sweet (tamarind?) sauce that I drizzle all over. The sauce does help in tempering the spice heat, momentarily.

My ritual consumption of these samosa usually results in my reenactment of the wolf in a certain triple small pork serve of a fairy tale. No, I'm not gobbling bacon but rather huffing and puffing away, grinning despite the intense heat on my palate.

There's some nice symmetry after eating one of these: I can't feel my tongue, nor can I feel my glove-less frozen fingers.

Crust revolution

I remember, back in the day, a school friend who used to bring sandwiches to school with the crusts chopped off. Just a personal preference, I suppose, and catered to by mother dearest every day. I, on the other hand, enjoyed my crust as it was the slightest of variations on a dependably mundane sandwich. That is, the crust provided distraction to the same-old peanut butter on white, or ham and lettuce on white. That's not to say that the odd seagull, or entire flocks of pigeons, didn't benefit from my eternally boring sandwiches.

There's nothing boring or bird-charitable about Crust Gourmet Pizza Bar though. It's all stylish, fresh and about as far away from a ham and lettuce sandwich as possible - thankfully. We hit up Crust in Surry Hills on another one of those awkward in-between meals, most likened to afternoon tea on this occasion. Almost forcing ourselves in the door to a just-opened store, the menu is quite a new and different pizza experience for the Crust uninitiated.

The variety of base sauces alone is staggering - your standard tomato and barbeque for sure, but olive tapenade, refried bean, pumpkin, and satay? I need to sit down. Luckily, Crust have done most of the work in putting together combinations and slapping on a straightforward, no confusion and indecision-reducing name along the lines of prosciutto, pepperoni, peri-peri chicken, tomato or smoked salmon.

Pizza box from Crust Gourmet Pizza Bar, Crown Street, Surry Hills

Decisive one chooses; indecisive one agrees; animated chatter; presentation of pretty pizza box - it's the natural cycle of ordering takeaway pizza. With news and sensation surrounding swine flu all but disappeared, we're unintentionally heading on a flavour trip to Mexico.

Mexican pizza

One look at this crazy melange of toppings and the tastebuds are watering. The first thing that hits, other than the headily tempting aroma, is the liberal squiggle of green sauce - as if someone went a little over the top with silly string. A quick menu check reveals that it is in fact fresh avocado salsa. We're game and dive in, me studiously avoiding the jalapenos.

Up close with the Mexican

I don't think I've ever had such a topping-rich pizza, supported most capably by the base. On that, the Crust crust is definitely up there with the best - thin, golden, crisp and crunchy - giving even traditional Italian bases a good run for money. There's no throwing away of these crusts. On this Mexican pizza we have the refried beans base, which is an interesting first but nothing to write home about. There's the perfect amount of stringy cheese covering thinly sliced spicy chorizo, slivers of Spanish onion and roasted red capsicum, and easily sighted and picked off jalapenos.

The combination of toppings meld together well, the avocado salsa working surprisingly hard in tempering the overall spiciness of the pizza. There's a good ratio of chorizo to vegetables though somewhere during my third slice I begin to wish for a tomato sauce base instead of the heavier refried beans.

The Heart Foundation-approved Crust pizzas

I also note that some of the Crust pizzas have the Heart Foundation tick of approval. Quick scan - not the Mexican. It's pretty impressive anyway for something that's traditionally lumped in with the fat fast food files, but then again I think even McDonalds has some ticks on some menu items.

Well, I'm not eating pizza for a health kick, my point driven home by the quick stroll up the road to the Dolphin Hotel for a drink by the fireplace - pizza that good deserves a beer and those pesky seagulls to be kept far away.

Treat yourself to lunch

It's funny how a little thing like lunch can affect the dynamics of a day. There's those late lunches and even skipping of lunch for some poor souls. There's boring and mediocre ones which are maybe better skipped. You could look forward to it all morning and be all sleepy in the afternoon. There's those facing a computer screen or a friendly face or a sprawled in a park.

Granted sometimes lunch is just a neccessity and not a pleasurable, do-it-for-fun-and-enjoyment experience. But it's nice to be able to just add a little something to lunch that makes you smile and ever momentarily happy.

Sandwich from Australia Square food court

Doesn't the sandwich look appetising? Makes sense for this to be my back-up, I-don't-know-what-to-have-for-lunch lunch then. Golden crumbed chicken breast schnitzel on brown, no butter, with tomato and rocket. Easy, no-thinking kind of lunch and always satisfying.

But on this particular day I was up for a treat. Especially of the sweet variety. Especially of the cupcake variety. Fancy that - there's a cupcake store just nearby.

Deluxe lemon meringue and custard tumble cupcakes from
The Cupcake Bakery, the ivy, George St, Sydney

The Cupcake Bakery is located, suitably, in the behemoth of temptation that is the ivy - must remind self never to mix lunch and retail. They have fewer varieties than Cupcakes on Pitt, with cupcakes at a larger size and price ($3.50 each). They also have 'deluxe' cupcake productions at a more 'deluxe' price. I like the concept of the Custard Tumbler - a vanilla almond base filled with custard, topped with mini-profiteroles, drizzled with chocolate. It also makes for a pretty cupcake topping for those with limited frosting piping skills.

They're not nearly as pretty or glamourous as the Cupcakes on Pitt beauties but they have a few interesting flavour varieties. Red velvet is always intriguing and I like the sounds of the chilli chocolate cupcake, but it's a fruity flavour that unsurprisingly takes my fancy.

Lemon and poppyseed cupcake

As an after-lunch/mid-afternoon treat, the lemon and poppyseed cupcake valiantly tries to do its job. Topped with a cream cheese icing and candied lemon rind, it looks fresh and not too unhealthy. The cake itself is only lightly lemon flavoured, whereas I like a bigger citrus hit. The only citrus taste really just comes from the rind. I suppose cupcakes aren't really supposed to be eaten in separate components anyway. It's also quite a dense cake, which I didn't expect for a cupcake but the sweet cream cheese icing does a good job overall.

Treating oneself to lunch can take on different forms, especially in the latter days of the week and even more so on lovely blue-skied days.

Wine and pizza from Ryan's Bar, Australia Square

Outdoor seating in the sun, a chilled beverage, freshly cooked food - now that's lunch and we even manage to squeeze it into an hour. The weekend vibe hits early at Ryan's Bar, which abolutely heaves with schooner-clutching people at Friday lunchtime. They also do a pretty decent pay-at-the-bar food service where their fresh pizzas prove very popular.

The Ra Nui sauvignon blanc is another Marlborough drop from over the ditch; lighter and less fruity than some others, making it the perfect partner to the Italiano pizza. Proclaiming to be topped with "salami, prosciutto, caramelised onion, rocket and parmesan", I could almost call this 'A Few of my Favourite Things' pizza.

On a thin, very crunchy base we have a little tomato paste; loads of cheese; savoury, spicy salami; blobs of sweet onion that cuts through the saltiness of other ingredients; bacon; topped off with fresh rocket leaves and parmesan shavings. What's wrong with this picture?

Did they not think people might just be able to tell the difference between proscuitto and bacon? I was a bit disappointed because I was looking forward to some thinly sliced, salty cured goodness, but then I was most glad I didn't order the Proscuitto pizza. Prosciutto-lessness aside, it's a good pizza and with a nice glass of wine and sunshine, lunch is a treat.

Cold lunches

I can't believe that we're facing such cold weather already. Yes, I'm having a whinge. With barely enough time to lament the passing of daylight savings I'm now suffering chilly mornings and the need to already dig out winter coats and scarves and sweaters.

This weather does, however, give reason for hearty food; bedsocks and hot water bottles; days spent wrapped in a blanket no longer 'a waste'; the ongoing search for bars and pubs with real working fireplaces; and boots.

On hearty food, I could never imagine having a steaming bowl of soup noodles when there's a blue-sky, sunny day nearby. Which is silly, because one should eat what they want to eat, but I'm programmed to be weather-directed like that.

Cheap eats in the CBD on chilly weather days usually means one of two meals for me: Vietnamese pho or Japanese ramen. The decision usually comes down to the flavour hit I'm looking for: is it the wholesome, soup-sweetness of a beef pho topped with fragrant herbs and lemon; or the savoury, umami-rich ramen stock with chewy noodles and scattered vegies?

Shoyu ramen with chicken from Miraku Japanese Cuisine,
Hunter Connection food court

This day it's the latter in the bustling Hunter Connection food court joining Pitt Street to George Street near Wynyard (also known as my wet weather, undercover path to the ivy...). I find that shoyu ramen tends to be my pick at most ramen outlets because of some, possibly misguided, idea of mine that it is less oily than other varieties. Miso ramen is a little overwhelming for me as is tonkotsu ramen many a time.

I have chicken in this version; a generous addition of broiled thigh chunks along with bamboo shoots, shallots, bean sprouts and corn kernels. The noodles have a bite-y texture and make the perfect warming mouthful with the hot, steaming soy sauce soup.

Other days call for a pasta fix - and these can be truly bad or naughty days. There is a severe lack of decent, quick, cheap pasta available in the CBD for lunch. There are the microwave-to-serve options, although they're rarely heated sufficiently or end up suffering a dry microwave burn. There are some bain marie options, which are again lukewarm and blandly conformist at the best of times.

One of the best I've had is actually worth the extra walk although I've yet to have the toss up of accessing better pasta versus freezing body parts off. I'm sure this winter will bring it.

Chicken pesto penne and ravioli bolognese from Piato,
Metcentre Food Court

Perhaps not quite so representative in this picture, the selection of pastas in the bain marie here seem a little more innovative, a bit fresher, and definitely tastier than other takeaway options. Admittedly the pasta was overcooked and the ravioli tended on bland - the filling, I'm not even sure what it was (it was similar in colour to the pasta dough and didn't taste like cheese). The bolognese sauce was infinitely better than others, with minced meat you can actually see and taste, though just a touch underseasoned.

The creamy pesto was much better in comparison, but the naughty things always are, aren't they? This burst with flavour: creaminess, herbiness, sun dried tomato slivers and lots of chicken breast meat too. This carb-fest is much enjoyed, and in the end I'm glad that it's a little further away than other sources despite the cold.

P.S. I know about books and their covers, though I'm not sure if the rule applies to tins and their labels.

Six skinless hot dogs - in a can

For reasons fairly obvious to me, I'm not a hot dog fan - and seeing this, I'm glad. Do you know where your frankfurt comes from? And does it even constitute a hot dog without the bun?

Going gourmet

Indecision plagues me at the best of times. When I and a few others are dinner-less and faced with an extensive menu of gourmet pizzas, I'm seriously lost. It's almost a little like picking out a horse for the Melbourne Cup, once a year punter-style and all.

Do you go for the name: exotic, safe, different, intriguing? Do you go for the categories: gourmet meat, gourmet chicken, gourmet vegetarian, gourmet seafood, or tradtional? Or do you go for the entertainment value: the 'Manhattan' pizza topped with cos lettuce, the 'Jakarta' pizza with a honey teriyaki sauce, or the 'Baghdad' - enough said?

Probably a combination of all of the above, plus the all-important synergy of toppings. Which is sometimes my problem with 'gourmet' pizzas. Yes, it's unique and inventive but do I really want tiger prawns, curry coconut sauce and mango chutney on my pizza?

Thanks to Gourmet Pizza Kitchen, I have that option with their prawn, spinach, potato, capsicum, curry, chutney and coriander 'Madras' pizza. Somehow I manage to whittle down my choices to two gourmet pizzas and excitedly await and pick them up from the local restaurant, which happens to be busier with eat-in diners than takeaways orders.

Morrocco pizza from Gourmet Pizza Kitchen, Anzac Parade, Kingsford

The 'Morrocco' pizza won its place due to its name, conjuring up thoughts of spicy bazaars and folk music a world away. The pizza itself was a world away from many takeaway options, on first sight and taste. The uneven spread of toppings has us clamouring for slices not inundated with cubes of fetta cheese. The tub of herbed yoghurt, much like Indian raita, was distributed over all the slices as was the juice of the lemon wedge.

And the taste test? A little overwhelming and clashing, like what I imagine one's first step into Morrocco might be. The 'Morroccan-spiced' beef fillet slices are wonderfully soft and tender, the fetta cheese upping the dairy and salt content. Both the semi-dried tomatoes and char-grilled eggplant seemed to have minds and flavours of their own, so along with the herbed yoghurt, parsley and lemon, it was a massive, if not sometimes confused, flavour hit.

New Orleans pizza

The second choice was a gourmet chicken pizza claiming influence from 'New Orleans'. This comes with a tub of sour cream and a tub of sweet chilli sauce and immediately looks tamer than its Morroccan partner. Slices of chicken breast fillet are generously spread over the not-so-round pizza base, supposedly marinated in hot Cajun spices. There are also cubes of roasted potato, unhappy clumps of spinach and button mushrooms making for a relatively bland pizza, hence the tubs I suppose.

Both the bases are of mid-thickness holding their toppings strong with a crunchy outer crust. The end overall result? Teamed with a simple home made salad, GPK's gourmet offerings make for a takeaway meal with a difference, proudly a little healthier than others or so it feels, but no comparison to a thin Italian classic pizza, preferably served with rocket and buffalo mozzarella!

Anticipating the first Taste

An unexciting takeaway lunch in the lead-up to a food festival is oddly fitting. Treat the tastebuds with blandness and boredom so as to allow for an awakening at the hands and plates of some of Sydney's finest restaurants. There's some sense in there somewhere.

I'm so looking forward to the Taste of Sydney festival that I've essentially mapped out my pre-festival eating schedule so as to maximise space in my belly and dollars in my wallet, and minimise the strain on my tastebuds and food appreciation part of the brain. Let's just hope that the weather holds up and doesn't force me to lug an umbrella around, amputating me of a good eating arm.

When I get the motivation I'm going to go on a campaign against boring takeaway lunches. Aside from foods I eat regularly because I love, I'm going to try to eliminate those repeat lunches that are usually purchased because "I don't know what else to have...!"

Today was one of those lunches and despite my love for pastry covered lumps of minced meat, I feel I might be on a bit of a dumpling directive of late.

Boiled dumplings with pork and mushroom from
Daniang Dumpling, Dixon Street, Haymarket

In a strange fusion of franchise and um.., Asian hospitality, Daniang Dumpling isn't quite the efficient dumpling establishment its signage and logo might suggest. Upon entry into the restaurant, the McDonalds-like menu doesn't at all promote dumplings - other than their equivalent of a value meal ($5 extra for a drink and side dish).

A quick squizz at their print menu, though, has an indecisive dumpling lover nervous and hungry. Two full pages of dumplings to choose from, most (if not all) in boiled state. The pork and mushroom option eventually surfaces as the dumpling du jour and I'm told it will be about a 10 minute wait.

Despite the McDonalds feel of the counter the restaurant really quite feels like a restaurant. Or casual Asian eatery at least, given the flatscreen flashing Chinese pop singers. Which makes for some uncomfortable if not awkward standing about for a takeaway customer. I don't much feel like standing in the drizzle outside so I make do with averting my eyes from seated and slurping diners, flicking glances at the cashier as if it would make my dumplings arrive faster, and trying to look at but not watch the television screen (which, for your information, is harder to do than hearing and not listening).

My dumpling condiment of choice is normally vinegar sauce; however I'm in a bit of a chilli phase at the moment. Not sure how or why this came to be as I'm not so fantastic a chilli eater. Anyway, a little container of chilli oil looks just the thing to go with my gnarled and misshapen boiled dumplings, and it actually turns out to be quite the highlight of the meal.

The steaming hot dumplings and mildly excrutiating wait for them indicates some degree of fresh wrapping and cooking. The pastry is a little thicker than I like but defense against a more rigourous cooking method, I suppose, as opposed to steaming. The filling is a pleasing but unspectacular combination of seasoned minced pork, occasional mushroom piece and savoury-sweet soup.

But the chilli oil, which I neglected to photograph, was heavily infused with flavour. Not just that, the chilli flakes added to the oil were charred black, imparting an additional roasted flavour that was quite ingenious. Who needs vinegar and soy when you have roasted chilli?

The dozen dumplings were gone before the steaming stopped and didn't burn a tastebud. All the better for tasting tomorrow night.