Ruminations and recipes from a small kitchen in a big city.


It was a dark and stormy night.

On a cold, rainy night after a long run in the park, where better to dine out with some friends than a cosy Italian cafe?

TiAmo is a good place for our running group (motto: 'for some people training is just an excuse to meet people'!) to eat - they actually sponsor the club and understand our needs, plying us with huge platters of fresh bread and copious bottles of chilled water. (Runners have massive appetites - one of our group is a 6'7" 200lb+ marathoner in training for the Gold Coast Marathon.

What to eat? The schiaffatelli bella napoli, almost like gnocchi but with no potato? The maccheroni della zia with mini meatballs and eggplant? The spaghetti don giovanni with mussels, clams and chilli? The risotto nero with cuttlefish? The veal shanks, tender and falling off the bone on a huge bed of garlic mash? The veal scallopine in white wine and cream? The tortellini tartufe?

With a menu like that, I don't care, give me anything! I wound up with the schiaffatelli. Light, fluffy, cheesy, floury pillows dressed seductively in a tomatoey sauce.

Then there's dessert. How does this sound: chocolate pudding baked with walnuts, sultanas, apples and served with a caramel sauce, cream & ice cream?

After a fifteen kilometre run and a dinner like that, it was all I could do to drag myself home and fall in a heap.

No comments: