O Blogger Where Art Thou?

Call it a hiatus or call it indolence, call it whatever you want but all I know is that it has been far too long. 5 weeks in fact. It escapes me how I managed to fall off the blogosphere for so long, but I did. And although I'd love to say that I have been trekking on camel-back through the sub-Saharan desert, or navigating icy waters with Greenpeace thwarting harpoon attacks on orcas, there's no such story to tell.

I have been able to do a few photo shoots for publications that will be out later this year (more on that closer to the release date), and taking on a few other things bigger than my plate will allow, but other than that I haven't been doing much at all, well nothing noteworthy or blog-worthy that is. There are a few developments that I will be announcing in a couple of weeks but aside from the ordinary shenanigans that occur in daily life, it's been business as usual, minus the fact that I have managed to circumvent any chronicling of my eating and baking activities on the blog.

I have to say that I haven't been in the groove lately, my mojo for baking hasn't dried up but it seems to have gone astray, or at least into a narcoleptic state. I guess the past few weeks the blog has been going through it's own existential crisis, asking the why am I here, and what am I doing with myself questions. Especially, in light of the world's current state, it's becoming harder and harder to find the real relevance of food blogging. With over half of the world unable to meet peoples' basic nutritional needs, is it really pertinent to be writing about food in such banal and trifling tones?

And this by no means is intended to condemn anyone who loves to eat and eat well, hey, I'm in that group of people too. And although I haven't had the urge to bake and write about food for a few weeks, it's safe to say that my appetite for eating remains insatiable. I guess speaking sincerely, this is what has been going on the blog for a few weeks now, just a quiet reflection on the reason why I blog. And it's naive to think that any one thing is going to solve world hunger, and this post is nothing about that.

Like many of you reading, I love eating, I love food, I love taking photos of my food and I love blogging about it, and I don't think we should stop this discourse on account of those who cannot engage in it. No one should feel remorse for the pursuit of their passions, but I guess my point is that after a little self-reflection, I don't consider this passion mere trite, but I have come to realise that this space we have to write and share about food is a privilege.

So I'm sorry to get all metaphysical on you.

It happens sometimes, when I have too much time on my hands. But if you came here for a recipe, then a recipe you shall get. This is definitely one for those who have some time on their hands as it takes a whopping 3 days to complete.

I've been cooking a heap of recipes from the Australian Gourmet Traveller website lately. I'm obsessed with poring through their archives, gazing with green-eyed envy at the spectacular food photography and styling, wishing I could only emulate their splendidness. I came across this recipe for parfait, and was enamoured by the photograph. I didn't even know what exactly a parfait was, except for what I had learned about it from Donkey on Shrek- which was that parfaits had layers and you'd be a fool not to love one.

So armed with that knowledge I decided it was high time I find out why this dessert was so perfect. If the French couldn't find a better way to describe the dish than to just call it perfect, then I don't know what else could be better. Now 3 days is a long time to find out why a dessert is exceptionally good. I was tempted to just go find a patisserie and get one just so I didn't have to wait so long. And I guess if you are really the impatient kind and cannot bear 3 days of torture, then you can probably just wait overnight. Nonetheless, this isn't your quickie dessert.

"You know what else everybody likes? Parfaits. Have you ever met a person, you say, "Let's get some parfait," they say, "Hell no, I don't like no parfait"? Parfaits are delicious."
-Donkey

But, if your patience can endure the stretch long enough to wait for this dessert to come into perfection then you won't be sorry. The reward is a the velvety rich texture of white chocolate espresso cream sandwiched between a crunchy hazelnut meringue, dripping in a topping of espresso caramel sauce. If that's not how you describe perfection then I stand corrected, but I'm pretty sure this is as close to perfection as you can get.

The recipe can be a little fiddly, and with all the steps of having to leave mixtures in the refrigerator and freezer overnight, it can test your patience. But the pay-off far exceeds the trouble you have to go. My parfait isn't as pretty as the one on the Gourmet Traveller website, but I bet it tastes just as good. And I must warn, this dessert only lasts as long as your appetite will allow, and in our case, we polished off the whole thing in less time it took to write this post.

White chocolate-espresso parfait sandwiches
Serves 8-12
Adapted from Australian Gourmet Traveller

NOTE: You will need to begin this recipe 2 days ahead.



600ml pouring cream
25ml espresso coffee
3 pieces of lemon peel
330g white chocolate, coarsely chopped

FOR THE HAZELNUT MERINGUE
4 egg whites
110g (½ cup) caster sugar
110g (2/3 cup) icing sugar, sieved
50g ground hazelnuts
20g Dutch-process cocoa, sieved

FOR THE ESPRESSO CARAMEL
150g caster sugar
75g maple syrup
1 tbsp espresso coffee
40g butter, coarsely chopped

Combine cream, coffee and peel in a saucepan, bring just to the boil over medium-high heat, strain over chocolate in a bowl and whisk until smooth.
Cool, whisking occasionally so chocolate doesn’t separate from cream, to room temperature, then refrigerate overnight.
The next day, whisk chocolate mixture until soft peaks form.

MAKING THE MERINGUES
Preheat oven to 100ºC.
Using an electric mixer, whisk eggwhites and a pinch of salt until soft peaks form.
With motor running, gradually add caster sugar; whisk until glossy.
Using a metal spoon, fold in icing sugar, hazelnut and cocoa.
Trace 2 rectangles using a 20cm x 30cm cake pan as a template onto baking paper-lined oven trays. Spread meringue evenly onto rectangles; bake for 40 minutes or until crisp. Cool on trays.

MAKING THE CARAMEL
For caramel, combine sugar, maple syrup and ¼ cup water in a small saucepan and stir over medium heat until sugar dissolves.
Increase heat to medium-high and cook for 3-5minutes or until syrup thickens.
Remove from heat, add espresso, swirl to combine.
Add butter, swirl to incorporate, then cool.

Place a meringue rectangle, trimming edges to fit, into a 20cm x 30cm baking paper-lined cake pan.
Drizzle with half the espresso caramel, top with white chocolate mixture and drizzle with remaining espresso caramel.
Top with remaining meringue and freeze overnight.
Remove, cut into squares using a wet sharp knife and serve immediately.

It's Official! My Culinary Adventures is Moving to Napa

Dear Reader, it's time to make the announcement that I am leaving my hometown of Los Angeles and I'm moving up to Napa in May. So now, not only will you be able to read of my culinary adventures in Los Angeles (I have a zillion of them that I haven't yet posted and I will be back many times a year to have Art cut my hair, The M Shop tune my car, and to eat plenty of dumplings and ramen) but also of my adventures in the foodie centric Napa Valley and Sonoma County areas.

So here is a preview of coming attractions. The Oxbow Public Market has opened since the last time that I was up there so Ms. Hollywood, who was so kind to drive me up there and give me so much support before my interview, and I mostly hung out there. For those of you who may not have heard of Oxbow, it's like a mini version of the San Francisco Ferry Building.

How lucky can I be? A Taylor's Refresher has opened up four blocks from my new job - the trick is to rent one of the houses across the street! It was so friggin good we went twice in one day.

This was the best calamari fritti that I've had in a long time. The coating was perfect, very crispy and not oily at all, and the calamari was fresh and had a wonderful texture.

Who doesn't get a burger when they go to Taylor's? Ok, I didn't and that was a mistake but I was so bloated that night that I opted to get a salad and fish tacos. The upshot was that I could fit into my skirt the next day but I was secretly coveting Ms. Hollywood's bacon cheddar burger. She took pity on me and gave me a piece of her burger. In the past I've always ordered my burgers without the "secret sauce" but after tasting it on the bacon cheddar burger I decided that I really liked it.

The kitchen of the Oxbow Wine Merchant. This place has a great small plate menu. Again, I opted for lighter food and stayed away from the charcuterie platter with meats from the Fatted Calf and instead ordered smoked trout pate, a salad, and a wonderful tomato soup with a swirl of pesto.

My new favorite place, the Oxbow Cheese Merchant (may I remind you Dear Reader that it's four blocks from my new job):

Oxbow Public Market
610 First Street
Napa, California 94559
http://www.oxbowpublicmarket.com/

Keeping the Home Fires Burning

We just got through day 13. I'm suffering from umbrella fatigue. Yes, it's been the 13th day of continuous rain in Sydney; from drought to drenching, the pendulum does swing both ways. And I guess now it's official, autumn is here, and I have to say a begrudging thank you for making it so obvious that you've arrived. Say hello to soaked hems, muddy feet and one constantly wet dog. I'll just try to think of it as one less bath I have to give him.

I know posting on the blog has been quite scanty of late, must be that crisp autumn air forcing me into hibernation. But the advantage of this is that my motivation for baking grows even the more as the weather gets colder. Keeping those oven fires burning is one way of staving off the chills.

Sydney houses, are notoriously known for not being able to stand up to the colder months. Many overseas friends living here who come from much colder climes always gripe about the inadequate amount of insulation in our houses. And coupled with the lack of central heating in most homes, it makes the winter months even more unbearable.

Our comparably mild winter probably doesn't warrant builders making houses with central heating a standard thing, but no matter where you're from cold is cold, especially at 6am when the dread of getting out of bed to take a shower overcomes you. I guess keeping the oven on is one way to get around this minor setback.

I made these cakes earlier this month but decided to give it an encore appearance at around day 7 of our marathon rainfest, while holed up at home just watching the spate of storms come and go. It was either build an ark or bake a cake and seeing as I was sitting on a pile of passionfruit, I made some cakes. If I was going to go down in a deluge, I might as well go down with cake.

With my priorities in the right place, I spent the better part of a day baking. With no central heating in our house, Jack (the dog) and I spent the rainy afternoon in front of the blazing oven, our makeshift fireplace. I'm sure he spends his time loitering around the oven just in case a rouge piece of food happens to accidentally fall out and magically land in his strategically poised mouth. He's quite the optimist, but it's still nice to have his company, no matter what the motives. He likes to think of himself as the sous chef, although most of the time he's more like the cleaner, mopping up spilled ingredients. He doesn't mind.

Right now, passionfruits are ubiquitous, so there's every reason for you to buy a whole lot. Here in Sydney we get the smaller round and wrinkled variety that have that distinct deep purple colour. They look quite strange and unassuming on the outside, and they weigh almost nothing but once you cut through that purple woody exterior there's a wonderfully rich and intensely brilliant daffodil yellow pulp inside.

By itself the pulp can be a little too tart to eat, but ripple a few spoonfuls through some vanilla ice cream or yoghurt and you have yourself a killer dessert. And if you are familiar with the Australian picnic staple, the pavlova, then you know that it's the passionfruit that gives it its bite.

The cakes are actually lime flavoured, but only subtlety. The passionfruit syrup is what gives the cake its kick. And like many other tangy fruits, a little bit of sugar takes this a dish a long way and livens it up a bit more. Add a dollop of whipped cream and you have all the insulation you need to get through a rainy day.

Baby Lime Cakes with Passionfruit syrup and cream
Serves 10
Recipe from Australian Gourmet Traveller



FOR THE LIME CAKES
125g soft butter
165g (¾ cup) caster sugar
2 tbsp finely grated lime rind
3 eggs
120g (½ cup) sour cream or plain yoghurt
150g (1 cup) self-raising flour

PASSIONFRUIT SYRUP
110g (½ cup) caster sugar
80ml (1/3 cup) lime juice
3 passionfruit, pulp only

PASSIONFRUIT CREAM
300ml thickened cream
1 passionfruit, pulp only (optional)
30g pure icing sugar, sieved

Preheat oven to 170ºC.
Beat butter, sugar and rind using an electric mixer until light and fluffy, add eggs and beat to combine, then add sour cream or yoghurt and beat to combine.
Fold in flour, then spoon mixture among 8 greased and floured 150ml-capacity dariole moulds and bake for 15 minutes or until golden.

Cool for 5 minutes then turn onto a wire rack to cool completely.
For syrup, combine all ingredients and ¼ cup water in a small saucepan and stir over medium-high heat until sugar dissolves, then bring to the boil and simmer for 10 minutes or until syrupy. Makes about 1 cup.

For cream, combine ingredients and whisk until soft peaks form.
Refrigerate until required.
To serve, pour half the warm syrup over cool cakes and serve with passionfruit cream and extra syrup passed separately.

Weekend

Don't be alarmed, I am still alive. Although, I've been experiencing the giddy highs related to the consumption of too many Adriano Zumbo pastries.

As cramped and as hole-in-the-wall his shop may be, people flock and people queue, in single file, just to be able to get to the front of the line to tell that person behind the immaculately styled glass counter what fares you are after. Usually it's a little piece of this and that, or perhaps a splurge on a decadent Zumbo dessert or a handful of macaroons if your budget will still allow.

Walk too fast and you will almost miss it, that narrow, unassuming little piece of real estate on Balmain's Darling St. Walk too slow and you might not get there in time as the place is almost always cleaned out before close. You might be stuck with a quiche or a plain brioche if your not hasty, not that these aren't worthy, but the real spectacle are his speciality desserts, tarts and macaroons that change every now and then. The stuff way down the back of the shop, that's what the mob's all after.

I've long been touting Balmain as a food lover's mecca, pastries, breads, butchers, cafes and gourmet stores line it's main street and it's a wonder why they have only just decided to capitalise on all its gastronomic potential. I could literally eat my way through Darling St, and this week you are actually encouraged to. The Balmain Rozelle Food Week starts tomorrow the 21st of April until the 27th of April, so if you are lucky enough to be in Sydney, then head over down Victoria Rd or over the Anzac bridge and make your way down Darling St, sampling the finest fare these providores have to offer.

If you are interested in this event then download the whole program by clicking here.

And in case you were wondering what I got from Adriano Zumbo, there were the mandarin and chocolate macaroons. Worth their weight in edible gold leaf, oh boy were they good! And a Miss Marple, which is a crepe shaped into a cup filled with mascarpone creme, strawberries, oranges and some Grand Marnier topped with a glorious sugar lid. It's art you can eat.

Have a great week guys and and I hope to be back blogging with something almost as delicious very soon.

Getting Seriously Stoned

There's been a chill in the air of late. Autumn is well and truly here and although summer may well be done and dusted, some of it's late harvest has decided to stick around for a farewell party. Yes, stone fruits are something to look forward to come summer, but there's always enough left behind to tide you over till the beginning of autumn. In a last ditch effort to relive summer days, I suggest getting stoned.

Of course I'm not talking about sparking up a doobie and getting fried, but rather enjoying the last that summer has to offer in its stone fruits. I'm having summer weather withdrawals right now, seeing that we never really got to have a proper one on the east coast. So this was my way of sparking up some lost memories of summer.

And really, what's a summer without a peach? The quintessential image of biting into a ripe one, its juice dripping from the corners of your mouth, can make up for all the lucklustre weather we have had for months. They said it was going to last till March and it certainly did, and it looks like we just sailed right into autumn without even the slightest bump. Maybe there was the odd lightning crash and tree falling on one's roof, but other than that, as far as I'm concerned we've been in autumn since December.

So this is my long overdue swan song for the summer we never had- almond cakes topped with roasted peaches. There's only one way to bid her farewell and it's with the best she had to offer. So rosy blushed peaches was an appropriate choice for a goodbye offering.

I actually made this a few weeks back, although never had time to blog about them for a while. I found the peaches at the Entertainment Quarter Farmer's markets going for a song and couldn't pass them up. Then I happened upon a recipe for Almond cakes with roasted apricots on the Australian Gourmet Traveller website, and you know when you see a recipe that you simply must have right now, well that sheer impulse overcame me and I was bent on making this that very same day. I'm sure the droolworthy photograph on the AGT website helped in stoking the urge for them right away.

Seeing as I didn't have apricots but had a heap of cheap peaches lying around, well, you know what I did. When life gives you peaches, you can decide to make a cake.

Peaches, like many other stone fruits, roast very well and there's very little you can do to improve on its flavour. So you might as well stick to the basics, a little sugar and little bit of booze and you have yourself a top notch dessert. It's amazing what wine does to a syrup. The booze of choice for this fare was a Seppelt Rutherglen Tokay that we bought on our last trip to the Hunter Valley- a sweet, honey flavoured dessert wine that was ideal for a fruit based dessert.

I have to say that the almond cakes didn't turn out as dark as they were pictured on the website, so I was a little worried I had made a mistake. But after tasting the cakes, there wasn't anything to worry about. Not sure why there was a lack of colour, but at least it wasn't lacking on taste. Two thumbs up for this recipe and perhaps a better and less illegal way of getting stoned.

Almond cakes with roast Peaches and orange blossom fool
Serves 6
Adapted from Australian Gourmet Traveller



SPECIAL EQUIPMENT: blowtorch (optional)

110g (½ cup) raw caster sugar
1 vanilla bean, seeds scraped
8 peaches, halved, stones removed
4 pieces of orange rind, removed with a peeler
80ml (1/3 cup) dessert wine
1 tbsp orange juice
3 tsp orange blossom water
300g crème fraîche
30g brown sugar, sieved

FOR THE ALMOND CAKES
120g (¾ cup) pure icing sugar, sieved
50g almond meal
35g plain all-purpose flour
¼ tsp baking powder
2 tbsp finely grated orange rind
2 eggwhites, lightly whisked
90g butter, melted and cooled

Preheat oven to 200ºC.
Using a blowtorch, scorch the peach skins until they blister. They should peel off easily.
Combine sugar and vanilla seeds in a bowl and scatter over the base of a roasting pan large enough to hold peaches snugly.
Place peaches, cut-side down, in a single layer in pan, pressing into sugar.
Turn peaches and scatter over orange rind.
Combine wine, orange juice and 2 tsp orange blossom water in a jug and pour around apricots.
Roast for 10 minutes or until just tender and golden.
Set aside to cool, then, using a slotted spoon, remove 4 peach halves from syrup and process using a food processor until smooth. Set aside.

MAKING ALMOND CAKES
For almond cakes, reduce oven to 170ºC.
Combine dry ingredients and rind in a bowl, add eggwhite and fold through until just combined.
Add butter, stir to combine, then divide among six shallow pie moulds, smooth tops and bake for 15 minutes or until golden and centre springs back when lightly pressed with a fingertip.
Cool in pans for 5 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack placed over a tray.
Spoon a little apricot syrup over cakes and cool completely.

Combine crème fraîche, brown sugar and remaining orange blossom water in a bowl and whisk until thick and smooth. Fold through apricot purée to form a ripple effect. Top each cake with 2 apricot halves and a generous dollop of fool. Serve with syrup to the side.

Trolling around Thainatown

I rarely ever do restaurant reviews on this blog as there are so many other blogs that do it so much better. Not one to impose on already well trodden territory I steer away from reviews not only for the latter reason, but simply because I don't eat out nearly as often enough as other bloggers who do reviews. Oh yes, and I'm unable to take a decent photo inside a restaurant for the life of me.

Reviews in my opinion are so relative and mostly based on comparisons from previous experiences and tastes of certain cuisine. I don't think I have gathered enough food mileage to be able to be an expert in anything. But sometimes in a serendipitous, fluky way, you happen to have your camera when you go out for a casual lunch and next thing you know, you are taking a photo of ever dish.

I may not be an authority on most cuisines, but I think I have eaten at enough Thai restaurants and eateries to be able to gather an opinion about the food. And I have to say that although there's an abundance of Thai places in Sydney, the bad far outweighs the good. Thai cuisine is usually marked by its depth of flavour; the beautiful cohesion of taste sensations and textures. It's usually a splendid symphony of sweet, sour, spicy and herby, put together with such harmony. There simply are too many Thai restaurants serving bland and watered down versions of the real thing.

Simply put, when the menu says, "this dish is very spicy", I want the dish to deliver on its promise. I want it to be flaming hot enough for me to be able to breath fire afterwards. There are just too many renditions of seemingly spicy dishes that just aren't that spicy at all. If my brow isn't sweating, then you really haven't done your job. And I'm not even one of those people with high levels of tolerance for capsaicin.

Which brings me to Chat Thai. Chat Thai is a little bit of an anomaly, as in that even in the midst of a million other Thai eateries in that part of Pitt St which has been affectionately coined Thainatown, there is always a line of people outise waiting to get in, even at 11:30pm. Spoilt for choice in the midst of Thainatown, there is something about Chat Thai that people are willing to wait in line, outside, sometimes in the cold and rain.

Some say that it's usually the most dubious looking eateries that are the most authentic and the best priced, and to some extent this has been proved correct. This however cannot be further from the truth when it comes to Chat Thai. Although a handful of their dishes take a short detour from the original, the flavours are truly Thai at heart. And when they say spicy, they mean it.

The restaurant's interior can fool you, it doesn't look like a Thai restaurant that would serve traditional Thai fare, and serve it well. It looks more like an uppity bistro than an Asian eatery. But nothing could be further from the truth, it's just a plus that the place comes with soft mood-lighting, modern brown tables, rustic brick walls and to my surprise, friendly staff that make up for the wait you have to make for a table during peak hours, which can be up to an hour and a half.

To be honest, I cannot recall what we had that day. I was too engrossed in the eating part, that I forgot to remember the dishes for the blogging part. Hence the reason why I don't do reviews. All I remember is that there was a pad thai somewhere in the mix, a staple at any Thai place. And if they can't get a pad thai right, then there's really no point in wasting your time. But the heartening thing is their pad thai was good. Good enough that every last morsel was scraped off the plate.

So if anyone is in Sydney looking for a Thai place whose kitchen doesn't close at 10, then head over to Campbell St and put your name on the list for a table. If you come late enough, you won't have to wait that long. Chat Thai has several other locations around the city although I've only been to the one in Haymarket. Weirdly enough, it's the only one not featured on the website.

CHAT THAI
20 Campbell St
Haymarket, Sydney NSW
Phone: (02) 9211 1808
Open: 7 days 11am-2am

All The Way, With Carbs Today

No matter how bad a rap carbs get, I'm still a staunch advocate for the stuff. How anyone could go on a diet deliberately eschewing the stuff is a mystery to me. Although for the sake of your hips, I do know how the formidable temptation of starch can be too much to bear. And sometimes under the weight of that incredible urge you give in. All the way.

I'm going through a pasta phase right now. And I've had it almost everyday this past week. If there ever was a fixation in my life right now, aside from the shopping thing of course, which probably is more gender-based than anything else, this pasta thing is probably it.

The Italians really knew how to do carbs- with their beautiful breads and pasta, they really knew how to throw a carb party. I know that there's some contention concerning the true the origins of pasta, but it's without myth or lore that the Italians were the ones who made pasta their own art form. Turning this dough of wheat and eggs into a myriad of shapes and forms. If there is an Italian nearby, I suggest you go and give them a kiss.

But enough with public displays of affection; did I mention I have also fostered an addiction to Eumundi Smokehouse sausages. I've mentioned it before, how I go ga-ga over their range of gourmet sausages and not to mention their chorizo. And although a kilo of the Russian Farmer's sausages will set you back over $30; it must be all that Vodka in it, there's no price you should put on good taste.

And you know a good thing when you smell it, as you enter their small shop in Dulwich Hill, you are hit by the aroma of spices and a curtain of smoked meat hanging from a bar suspended above the counter. Everywhere you look it's meat. And there's something to be admired about a butcher who doesn't hold back with the spices and the booze. I say the more the merrier.

Their products are all made of natural ingredients and contain no preservatives. So it's best to eat them as soon as you buy them, which is really nothing to complain about. The sausages I used for this pasta were their lamb merguez sausages, a combination of lamb, red wine, coriander, parsley, pepper, mint and chilli. When fried, it exudes a perfume that rouses the palate and gets any carnivore's attention.

And why not put the two loves together, pasta and sausages. It's simple gourmet, and I'm sure country folk everywhere tending to pasturelands in the back of nowhere have been enjoying the staple of pasta and sausages for a long time wouldn't even bat an eyelid at this dish, but it's classics like these that never go wrong. I'm not sure if an Italian would call this dish a real classic, but it's simple enough with pasta, sausages, tomatoes and a splash of white wine thrown in for good measure.

I can't think of a better way to relieve those autumn cravings for comfort than with a classic pasta dish. You can use pretty much any shape you want, I like slurping my way through it, so linguine was the way to go, but if you prefer the pasta without the loud, sloppy sucking then penne or rigatoni would do just as well.

EUMUNDI SMOKEHOUSE
402 New Canterbury Road,
Dulwich Hill, NSW
Phone: (02) 95690205
Opening Hours: Thur-Fri 11am to 6pm; Sat 7am to 2pm

Their products are also available at a number of gourmet farmers markets and gourmet food stores. Contact Eumundi for more stockists.

Sausage and Capsicum Linguine
Serves 4
Adapted from Australian Gourmet Traveller



6 (750g) sausages, skins removed and chopped into 4cm slices
1 red capsicum
3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 small red chilli, finely chopped
50g (1⁄4 cup) tomato paste
50ml dry white wine
1 can (400g) crushed tomatoes
sea salt
½ cup coarsely chopped flat-leaf parsley
500g dried linguine
freshly grated parmesan, to serve

Roast the capsicum in a preheated oven at 220ºC for 20 minutes.
Remove from oven and peel skin off.
Deseed and cut capsicum into 2cm-wide strips.
Heat the olive oil in a large frying pan, add sausages and cook over medium heat, turning, for 5 minutes or until golden. Transfer sausages to a bowl.
Add onion and garlic and sauté over low-medium heat for 3 minutes or until softened, add chilli and sauté for another 2 minutes.
Add tomato paste and stir for 5 minutes or until sauce thickens, then add sausage, capsicum and white wine and cook for 2 minutes, stirring to coat sausages and reducing liquid by half.
Add tomatoes, season to taste with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, then simmer for 10 minutes or until sauce is thick.
Stir through parsley.

Meanwhile, cook linguine in a large saucepan of boiling salted water until al dente.
Drain and transfer linguine to the frying pan and combine with sauce.
Divide sauced linguine among plates and top with any remaining sauce from frying pan and serve with parmesan.