Some fine dining, Australian style

By TERRY TOMALIN

© St. Petersburg Times, published September 30, 2000

SYDNEY, Australia -- In an international city such as this, you can find any type of food you like: Thai, Greek, Italian, French, Japanese, even American.

But if you want to find authentic Australian cuisine, you have to look and look hard.

"Excuse me, mate," I asked a constable standing on the corner of George and Market. "Do you know where I might find a good witjuti grub?"

"A what?" he asked.

"A witjuti grub," I replied.

"Move along, fella," he said.

Every Aussie has heard of witjuti (pronounced witchetty) grubs, but few have seen, tasted or eaten one. If you ask the average Australian to name the national dish, he probably would say meat pie or fish and chips.

The former is available at any corner milkbar (food store) for under $2. Meat pies come in a variety of flavors: steak, chicken (chook), and steak and mushroom. Meat pies usually are served in a paper bag with a plastic fork in it. But most Aussies throw the fork away and eat the pie like a sandwich. Don't forget the tomato sauce (ketchup) on top.

Fish and chips is the standard British pub variety. With the fish served piping hot atop of mound of french fries, a good basket of greasy fish and chips will coat the stomach, the ideal foundation for a hard night of pub hopping.

Australians also like to put their stamp on things. McDonald's are all over the city, and sure, you can buy a Big Mac, but the most popular burger is the McOz, a quarter pounder topped with a thick slice of beet root.

But long before the Golden Arches and Four'n Twenty (the meat pie makers) began filling Aussie bellies, Mother Nature provided more than enough grub to satisfy the appetites of the native inhabitants.

"Bush tucker, in general terms, means food that grows wild and is not cooked," said Raymond Kersh, whose restaurant Edna's Table specializes in indigenous cuisine. "For a restaurant, that might have a negative connotation because people might think that you are serving them food that they can go eat somewhere else for free."

Kersh and his sister Jennice serve a wide assortment of gourmet native foods, from bunyanuts and akudjura (bush tomato) to crocodiles and two-headed skinks.

"But do you have witjuti grubs?" I asked.

"Yes, we do have witjuti grubs," Kersh replied.

Kersh first grew to appreciate native food 30 years ago when his brother moved to the Kimberley region to run an Aboriginal mission and cattle station. During numerous visits, Kersh learned everything he could from the Gogadja tribe, the oldest desert tribe in Australia.

"We combine the best of both worlds," he said. "We use the fresh indigenous herbs and fruits combined with standard modern table fare."

The typical dinner menu might include poached lamb rump wrapped in paper bark with yellow curry sauce, and the fish of the day served with native herb aioli.

"Of course, we also serve crocodile, emu and kangaroo, but most people just want a taste," he said. "They don't necessarily want a whole meal of something they have never had before."

Edna's Table often is booked weeks in advance. It is a popular destination for tour groups, but seldom does Kersh receive requests for witjuti grubs.

"They are considered quite a delicacy," he said. "They are hard to find and take a long time to mature."

Two to seven years, to be exact, depending on weather conditions. And witjuties live only around the roots of certain bushes, so you need somebody with local knowledge or you might end up eating any old bug. Witjuties are high in sugar, protein, calcium and iron, and some even value them as an aphrodisiac.

"Can I try one?" I asked.

"Sure," Kersh said. "But don't you want me to cook it first?"

I waited this long to eat my first grub, what difference would a few more minutes make? So while Kersh cooked, I sampled crocodile, emu and kangaroo.

Then Kersh brought out the piece de resistance, witjuti grub tempura with a sauce made from native warrigal greens. So I rolled the witjuti in the green sauce, then took a big bite, relishing the sweet taste as the warm bug guts filled my mouth.

"How does it taste?" my friend asked.

"Just like a witjuti grub," I said.

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