What makes us human? Preparing food with fire.
“See that guy? He’s my brother from another mother,” ex-Momofuku Seiōbo chef Paul Carmichael professes whilst slicing through a saddle of lamb, “I wouldn’t have held this anywhere else”. Peering over a giant slab counter, embers billow, and it’s easy to know what Carmichael is talking about: Lennox Hastie at Firedoor.
Along an inconspicuous street in Surry Hills, most Sydneysiders walk past Firedoor unknowingly, oblivious to its significance as a site of art and theatre. Hastie and his well-drilled crew including young-gun Jason White manage their relationship to fire with unabridged confidence. Amongst the pre-service huddle with backs acting as shields, the staff remain unfazed by the hazards frolicking around them.
The first thing you notice when you walk into Firedoor is the heat. Hastie evokes a nuanced reminder of our primordial origins. In contrast to the smoke signal that is El Jannah, Firedoor’s fumes are kept under tight control and do not catapult themselves, even in the food. The amuse-bouche is a torch-kissed piece of zucchini which remains crisp and firm, adorned by a green tomato and jalapeño salsa. Combining three items that are perfectly in-season, the commitment to produce is respected, and flavours sensational.
Paul Carmichael is the brains behind the menu tonight, an honouring of all that is Caribbean. The dinner has been arranged by Sydney food guru and cookbook author Roberta Muir, head of Be Inspired, a ‘HelloFresh’- type cooking box program on steroids that connects “passionate home cooks” with “great chefs and awesome producers”. The great chef tonight just so happens to be Carmichael.
As the dishes start to appear, Carmichael comments on the wads of lamb with deluxe appendages of fat, all marinated in jerk seasoning, exclaiming, “this is pure Caribbean”. Although one could be tempted to rebut, “this is pure Australian”. What more could be said of the quintessential Australian protein being combined with jerk, sitting atop a bed of kangkong? Tonight’s dinner epitomises everything that is Australian cuisine: British and Barbadian chefs, in Sydney, cooking food with Caribbean, Asian, Basque, and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander elements and ingredients. The dish that most evinces the Australian touch is arguably the dish of the night, Okra with ‘run-down’ sauce and salt cod floss. Upon presentation it mimics the beauty of an August flowering wattle, salt cod floss is the acacia’s inflorescence, curry leaves play themselves, charred okra, branches following a bushfire.
Through the brilliance of the night, the stars were the sauces. The run-down took charge, based by the coconut milk which had been 'run-down' into a thick liquor to envelope one's freshly cut morsels of okra. The dish pivoted on textures, Hastie's propensity to only char one side of an ingredient, and atypically crisp seeds of okra spilling into a luxuriant chalky pool.
For the dish of Coral Trout, it enjoyed sheltering by a 'pil-pil' sauce, recalling Hastie's time in Basque Country. Yet this was Carmichael's version, piquing forward with heat and brightness. The sofrito of wood-fired capsicum landed incredibly sweet, yet was rich and complex, laying hidden under pencil squid which had only been glanced by the fire. Upturned caps of onion with rims glistening black cradled a further Mexican marigold sauce, delicate and refined.
Firedoor on the 22nd March 2022 was also about what wasn’t on the menu. As one diner put it, "there’s a lot of secret shit going on." Lathers of butter with the bakes that were made with coconut milk, the use of curry leaves, Mexican marigold, sea vegetables, and oregano hiding where it shouldn't be. There were also the wines, on show from Benoit Jackman who offered his energetic penchant for hand-harvested, small production wines in the more natural styles. The Libiano Gewürztraminer from New Zealand, South Australia's Izway shiraz, and the Basque Astobiz Txakoli were just some of the exemplary wines that were by no means solely an accompaniment to the meal.
At a strictly fire-only restaurant, you would expect dishes to be blasted to purgatory with flamethrowers, Mad Max style. However, the treatment of the food with heat is delicate and subtle. How this is achieved is an exposition in control. It’s constant care and attention - blowing, spraying, turning, checking, moving. The two ovens, which resemble cremation chambers, are at the helm of Hastie’s mandate as he has complete authority over how much they are fed, despite their greedy disposition. There is nothing hasty about his movements over the fiery constituents, occupying the kitchen space with calm and command.
David Chang, the brains and grit behind the culinary empire Momofuku, casually describes Paul Carmichael in his memoir as one of the greatest chefs in the world. Having been entrusted as chef de cuisine at Má Pêche (New York) and Momofuku Seiōbo (Sydney), Carmichael proved his pedigree during these lauded posts. In this rare collaboration with Lennox Hastie, he showcases again where wisdom, intellect, and creativity can take you. And that place is always to pure deliciousness. Whilst eating the sliver of lamb fat last, “Oh, that’s the smart move there”.
Ibis Tip: Want to cook incredible recipes at home with a walkthrough from top chefs, including restaurant quality produce delivered straight to your door?
eatingwithibis gives 'Be Inspired' a three ibis award for its commitment to quality, and truly sharing the passion of great food and cooking.
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