Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Pushing the boundaries

I knew I’d reached the limits of my culinary boundaries when I found myself retching at the smell of dinner cooking. In all fairness to the dinner, it doesn’t take much to set me off.  Even so, mutton bird hasn’t gained a fiercely fatty and odorous reputation for nothing.

Mutton bird - or sooty shearwaters - are known to the Maori as titi.  It’s a delicacy that may only be caught by Rakiura (Stewart Island) Māori during a limited season and it is difficult to buy unless you know where to look.

I bought a couple after getting carried away during a visit to Huntly Wild Game Meats earlier this year.  This unprepossessing little shop sells all manner of game, including rabbit, hare, venison, boar and eel. Over the years I’ve eaten my way through most of its offerings but had never before seen mutton bird there so I decided to give it a go. 

I was heartened to learn that the proprietor believed mutton bird’s bad reputation was unfounded, and it tasted – and should therefore be prepared – much like anchovy. But eating a weird dish is one thing; preparing it is quite another.  The thought of brewing up a reeking fat laden meal unnerved me, so I decided the only way that I’d ever be able to face cooking the two vacuum packed specimens lurking in the downstairs fridge was to invite some fellow brave hearts over for dinner.  As ever, Lindsay and Freeman were up for the challenge.  

After a bit of Internet research and some hard thinking, I decided to take some inspiration from the Thais and prepare the meal in a manner that balanced salty, sweet and sour flavours; and soft and crunchy textures.

None of us had ever seen a mutton bird so,
in the interest of science, I Googled some
images on my smart phone while dinner was
cooking.  Doing that was, upon reflection,
probably a bit sick because it really did look
far too cute to eat. 

There was nothing cute about these vacuum packed
horrors.  In a nightmarish form of osmosis, the fat had
started to leach through the plastic.  It smelled like a
combination of fowl, fish and putty.  Yeah, I know; waaay
too much information.

I was so squeemish I had to put the dish gloves
on when handling these.

The fear, loathing and retching was all worthwhile.
Crispy bruschetta topped with tomato, buffalo
mozarella, fresh basil and mutton bird rillette. 
Divine - and quickly hoovered up.
This combination of flavours worked really, really
well together.  Clockwise from top:  creamy kumera
and orange salad; mutton bird rillette; Eastern European
crispy cucumber; roasted Maori potatoes. 
For the record, mutton bird does indeed look like
 mutton, and tastes like anchovy.

Apart from it being a bit too salty, mutton bird turned out to be surprisingly nice and I would eat it again.  Having said that, next time I’ll leave the cooking up to someone else.