Russell Armstrong

Loves sauces, their complexity and the layering of flavours on the plate

Russell Armstrong is proud of his classical training. He has weathered many food fashions over the 21 years of his cooking career. Amongst his industry peers there has always been fame, but this has not necessarily translated into fortune with the public. Now in his latest incarnation, 'Armstrongs', at the Inchcolm Hotel, he has won Best New Restaurant 1999, as awarded by the Restaurant and Caterers Association of Queensland. It's not that he lacks competition; the Brisbane restaurant market has boomed in the past year, with many new openings and more planned. But still, for Russell, he wonders if he has enough scope there.

He's worked in some fine establishments over the years - Brisbane's top restaurants and as executive sous chef at Melbourne's 'Le Restaurant', before opening 'Tables of Toowong'. Tables won awards too (it was twice a Gourmet Traveller finalist) but did not draw crowds of diners to its suburban location. Even now, in the middle of the city, Russell has to rely on catering to keep busy. But at the Inchcolme, Russell seems in his element, with a menu showing off more classic techniques, such as making quenelles of fish with a ragout of seafood; poaching oysters in champagne and glazing them over a mille feuille; making confit of duckling or rabbit; offering grilled and poached fillet of beef with horseradish emulsion. And his beloved sauces, which for him, can make the dish. "If the sauce is right, the dish has power."

Because the truth for him still lies in the classic discipline of London's Connaught Hotel, where he worked for three years at the beginning of the '80s. It's not that his food exists in a time warp, but rather that there are certain truths about cooking which remain with him. He has gone through periods of experimentation with mixed success. On his 'Tables at Toowong' menu there were dishes incorporating various influences and lots of ingredients, it was something he felt he had to do at the time. Russell still gets frustrated about the demands of the market, as driven by food writers. He feels those writers bear a big responsibility in not explaining to diners what standards to demand, but instead always directing people to try innovation, as a point of novelty. He admits that he has a penchant to look back "at some of the wonderful things we used to do. Life in a kitchen can be so fast tracking, that it's often hard to hang on to those memories."

And what's more, to "keep hold on reality", to the strong identifying flavours", to keep focus and to keep a sense of balance and order. To do the seasonal dishes and to respect produce and not get thrown by fashion. He admits that you can get dragged into "going with the flow", meaning repetition of the trendy dishes. When we spoke he was exhausted shortly after opening Armstrongs. The strain of getting the restaurant together, getting a team in place, and coping with big parties was very much in evidence. And the prospect of it all repeating itself the next day, and the next month and the month after and the month after. "As a chef trying to pull it all together, it's very hard and very fast." No wonder then that he recalls so clearly the standards and discipline of the Connaught Hotel kitchens.

It's not just the dishes and the chefs working there that he talks about, but also the whole attitude to produce and to the store cupboard. He recalls how everything was made there; fruits and vegetables in season would be preserved, meats would be butchered and carcasses used for stocks and soups. There were shelves of relishes and preserves which would be made by the hotel staff. It's an approach to food which is as much about good housekeeping as it is about 'grande cuisine'. As well, he seems to miss the 'true' seasonal changes experienced in Europe which allow for a whole range of dishes not suitable in Queensland.

"We are so close to Asia here, we have such different climatic conditions, produce and habits." Russell seems frustrated with having such an extensive repertoire of robust dishes which just don't suit Brisbane climate and lifestyle. It will be interesting to see if Russell Armstrong remains in Brisbane. It seems unlikely that he can achieve his ideal kitchen there, and he may be tempted to move to Melbourne or Sydney. He talks admiringly of the way Tetsuya Wakud used to close his Sydney restaurant if he had to go away (for the first time, recently, Tetsuya did leave his staff in charge in his absence but the occasion is still very rare) . "That would be very nice to be able to do, but for the rest of us you have to be able to delegate and find people who can produce it the way you want it." To get that means "hard-line discipline and nothing else."

Why does he do it? Why does he endure the frustrations of staff difficulties, customers who want only the trendy dishes? Because having his own restaurant means that he can try to influence and change all that: he can guide his customers into thinking and feeling differently. As the quotation at the bottom of his menu states, "The power of an object is often not able to be explained simply in terms of its physical makeup. The issues of touch and smell and the memories they may evoke are part of the materials' power to elicit a response."

Interestingly these words were written about architecture, but Russell feels they could apply equally to music or to food, the two things which are most evocative for him. He explained - "The texture and flavour of food can evoke such powerful memories. Memory is what makes us human and as a chef we can impose and recall memory from what we put on the plate. It is part of ourselves we put there each time."

INFLUENCES
Michel Bourdin at the Connaught Hotel, U.K. The Trois Gros brothers, France Tetsuya Wakuda, Australia.

Russell Armstrong's Recipes

Warm celariac and summer truffle zabaglione
Roasted grain-fed mandalong lamb carved over garlic and cream braised potatoes with ratouille jus
Queensland strawberries in a champagne sabayon over a crisp hazelnut shortbread