Preminced kangaroo is distinctive for a number of reasons. It has an extremely low fat content, but is still ‘marbled’ with connective tissue, which is rather stringy. It has a noticeable gamey odour that you don’t find in beef or lamb.
I had been reading about tenderizers, and noticed that certain fruiting plants contain enzymes (proteases) which break down proteins. One of these is pineapple (it’s enzyme is bromelin). I thought it might be interesting to see how it worked. After all, perhaps the fruity acid of pineapple might give stodgy old roo a flavour lift as well as softening that connective tissue. I noted that the enzyme is activated between 50C and 70C, so there’s no point using it in the 'frig as a marinade. But slow cooking could work. (The enzyme becomes deactivated at 100C, so canned pineapple  is ineffective). Perhaps meatloaf would be worth a try, thought I, giving minced roo another chance. If pineapple does anything it should be quite noticeable in meatloaf. And it would be easy to set up a side-by-side comparison with another mix, free of pineapple, but otherwise identical.

So this is what I did.  Kangaroo mince is readily available in supermarkets in 1 kilogram packs. Each meatloaf would therefore contain 500g mince. They would include onion and mushroom, which seem to commonly accompany game in other recipes. These I would precook, to both add browned flavours and to reduce their liquid content.
In contrast to my failed meatballs, the meatloaf would contain breadcrumbs. They would soak up any released liquid and so keep the loaf moist, and help avoid that rubbery texture that ruined the meatballs.
Some soy and garlic for extra flavour, to help balance the roo meat. And some sweet chilli sauce brushed on the outside of the loaf, to give a nice flavoured crust.
In one batch was 100g chopped pineapple, and in the other 100 grated apple, with a teaspoon of vinegar, to match the acid of the pineapple.
Both were cooked in identical glass terrine-sized dishes, side-by-side in a 170C oven. This would give the pineapple, buried within the meat, inside the glass, in the slow oven, plenty of time at the enzyme activation temperature, in order to do its work.

And it did its work. I took the knife to cut a slice, and tried to get it out of the dish. The loaf collapsed and had to be spooned out. The apple meatloaf, in contrast, sliced obediently and sat neatly beside the nasty mound on the plate.  A bit of probing with the fork, and we noticed how much the pineapple meat resembled canned dog-food. Trying to compare the flavours of both was very difficult, as the texture sensation was hard to get past. I did notice the acid in the pineapple was good, so made a mental note to increase the vinegar in the apple meatloaf.

So the conclusion to this culinary experiment is: pineapple enzyme can be a wicked tenderizer, but is totally unnecessary for minced kangaroo. This does however suggest a further experiment, involving a cut of kangaroo meat which could be rolled around pineapple, and slow roasted. Hmm.

Fortunately, our dog loves the pineapple meatloaf. And the other meatloaf is edible by humans, quite nice in fact. Being quite rich, you don’t need a large serve, which is probably a good thing for all sorts of reasons that I won’t go into here.
Below is the successful recipe, modified a little according to the test results.

Recipe for Kangaroo MeatLoaf,  Being Entirely Edible

500g kangaroo meat, minced
3tbs olive oil
150g mushrooms (3 large swiss browns), chopped in 1cm dice
1 small onion, choppped
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 cup coarse breadcrumbs (around 100g)
1 egg, beaten
1 apple, grated
2 tbs soy sauce
1 tbs white vinegar
½ tsp pepper
sweet chilli sauce

Into a moderately hot sauté pan put 2tbs olive oil with mushrooms. After 2 minutes, add another tablespoon of olive oil and the onion. Stir and cook on moderate heat until the mushrooms have dissipated much of their liquid, and have shrunk considerably. Stir in the garlic. Remove from the pan and let it cool slightly.
Into a large mixing bowl tip breadcrumbs, mushroom mix, apple, vinegar, soy sauce and pepper. Stir until well mixed. Add kangaroo and combine well with your hands, to make a cohesive mixture.
Put a sheet of baking paper into an oven pan. Put the mix into a loaf tin, then invert the shaped loaf onto the baking paper, removing the tin.  Brush all surfaces of the loaf with chilli sauce.
Bake in a 180C oven until the internal temperature reaches 70C, around 45 minutes.
Remove from oven, cover with foil and let sit for 10 minutes before slicing.
Good with crispy sautéd potatoes and green salad.

 

Despite the promotional material, kangaroo meat does not substitute for beef, or lamb. Roo bolognaise sauce has a heavy, sickly taste, and my family will not eat it. Moroccan roo balls are disgustingly rubbery.

When I really think about it, the smell of roo meat is, purely and simply, like the smell of blood. It’s not a coincidence that the iron/protein ratio for roo meat is an order of magnitude higher than for other meats, and not too different to that of beef liver. It is a very dark, bloody meat. It’s very healthy, and the fat content is extremely low. But is it too healthy to be palatable? Roo fillet, cooked quickly and rested long, is very nice, but the fillet is the most expensive cut. What happens to the rest of the carcase? The absence of fat generally, and the fact that roos actually do use their muscles, rather than just wallowing in pens, makes roo meat naturally tough.

I am currently thinking about three experiments with kangaroo meat. Two of these involve salt. The first is brining. According to Ruhlman and Polcyn’s great book ‘Charcuterie’, in the brining process, not only is the meat tenderised (due to the ‘loosening’ of the bonds between the protein molecules), but introduced flavours in the brine (onion, garlic, herbs and spices) are delivered quickly to the inner depths of the meat, via osmosis, which is instigated by the brining.

So I brined some kangaroo steaks.  Less expensive than fillets, steak cuts are still not cheap (I’m trying to find out which part of the beast the steaks come from).  After brining, I rinsed them and dried them open in the frig. And then I smothered the darlings in lashings of olive oil, hoping that the fats would seep right in, further separating those proteins. Then I barbecued them, rare, and let them rest for a long time under alfoil, according to the instructions. I served them with sweet caramelised onions and rich creamy mashed potatoes, with a little sweet potato for extra depth. And they were tender, and juicy, not bleeding any liquid at all. They were great. Everyone in the family thought so.

Following  is the method.

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1.2 kg kangaroo steaks (I bought 7 pieces, around 2.5cm thick, from Macro Meats, available at most supermarkets) half of which served four people, and the other half has been brined, dried, olive-oiled, peppered and ziplocked, for a later meal.

In a small saucepan, bring to a simmer 1 cup water, 110g rocksalt, 60g honey (sugar if you prefer), 3 garlic cloves, smashed with the side of a knife, and your preferred herbs and spices―(I used 1 tbs coarsely ground pepper and 2 dozen leaves each of (fresh, torn) lemon myrtle and aniseed myrtle leaves―(24 g in total. I thought  I’d try these Australian natives, but in hindsight, not much of the leaf flavours came through. Next time, I’d use more, or use with a larger cut of meat, that spends a longer time in the brine.) Stir until the salt is dissolved, then turn off the heat.

Tip all of this into a tall plastic brining container, in which you have already added 1.75 litres ice-cold water (I use a bottle of iced water with 2 trays of ice-cubes). Note that the brining mix must be chilled - so put it in the frig for as long as it takes. When chilled, add your meat, and make sure it is fully submerged. Cover and refrigerate for 2 hours. Note, if you are using meat other than steaks, the brining time will vary, depending on the bulk and thickness of the meat.  (I strongly recommend Ruhlman and Polcyn’s book for general brining instructions).

Discard the brine solution, rinse the meat and dry it with paper towels. Put it back in the frig for a few hours, uncovered, to dry it out further.

Marinate the meat in olive oil, seasoned with ground pepper, for at least an hour before grilling. Grill in a grill pan or bbq until the meat is just rare–a few minutes each side. Cover with aluminium foil and let rest for at least the time it took to cook the meat, before serving.

I served the roo with sweet caramelized onions and a mashed potato dish.

Caramelised Onions (serves 4) :
Take 3 onions (include red ones if you have them). Halve, peel and cut into thin wedges. Place in saucepan with ¾ C water, 1 tbs brown sugar, 1½ tbs balsamic or red wine vinegar, 1 tbs olive oil, ½ tsp salt, pepper. Simmer 25 mins covered, then uncover, increase heat and boil off liquid, stirring, for another 25 mins.

Mashed potatoes―your favourite recipe. I added sweet potato and sour cream, because I thought the roo could take it, and it did.

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When I find a cut of meat bigger than steaks, I'd like to try braising, rather than grilling―after a longer time in the brine. That should produce something tender, with mellowed flavours. Braising is a a great method for tough cuts. The meat is first browned in oil and butter in a pot. The burnt butter is removed, and a little more olive oil is added, in which diced veggies (like onions, carrots) are then sauted, then thickened with a little flour. Then wine, along with a good stirring by wooden spoon, to incorporate the tasty brown stuff stuck to the bottom of the pot. Then stock and herby/spicy flavours are added (like my lemon and aniseed myrtle) to the braise liquid. The meat is returned and the lid placed. The meat gently steams in the braising liquid in the oven (160C).

It would also be interesting to dry-cure some kangaroo, as in an Italian bresaola, which sometimes uses game meats. (Really, we don’t need to eat a lot of meat. If breseola is as good as it sounds, a few thin slices should be enough. We really should be eating more vegetables and less meat. I could not do without meat. But I could do with less.)
The third experiment involves the addition of pork back-fat. Sausages!
There's a fourth possibility that sounds interesting, but I'm not sure I'd do it. Larding. It requires a larding needle with which to incorporate foreign (pig) fat, before roasting, thus tenderising the meat. Sounds like fun, but I'm not sure it's worth hunting around for such a needle.

 

Where in dreariest days, when all dews end,
   And all winds are warm,
Wild Winter's large flood-gates are loosen'd,
   And floods, freed by storm,
From broken-up fountain heads, dash on
Dry deserts with long pent up passion --
Here rhyme was first framed without fashion --
   Song shaped without form.

Whence gather'd? -- The locust's glad chirrup
   May furnish a stave;
The ring of a rowel and stirrup,
   The wash of a wave;
The chaunt of the marsh frog in rushes,
That chimes through the pauses and hushes
Of nightfall, the torrent that gushes,
   The tempests that rave.

In the deep'ning of dawn, when it dapples
   The dusk of the sky,
With streaks like the redd'ning of apples,
   The ripening of rye.
To eastward, when cluster by cluster,
Dim stars and dull planets, that muster,
Wax wan in a world of white lustre
   That spreads far and high.

In the gathering of night gloom o'erhead, in
   The still silent change,
All fire-flush'd when forest trees redden
   On slopes of the range.
When the gnarl'd, knotted trunks Eucalyptian
Seem carved, like weird columns Egyptian,
With curious device, quaint inscription,
   And hieroglyph strange.

In the Spring, when the wattle gold trembles
   'Twixt shadow and shine,
When each dew-laden air draught resembles
   A long draught of wine;
When the sky-line's blue burnish'd resistance
Makes deeper the dreamiest distance,
Some song in all hearts hath existence, --
   Such songs have been mine.

I went outside this morning to water, and get some air before the onslaught of Christmas preparation. This is how it looked, before the shade cloth went up. It will be 36 degrees Celsius later today, if the forecast is correct.

Techinically, a weed is a plant out of place. Below are some photos of plants out of place in my garden. They often pop up between the pavers in the path, which is supposed to be filled with mondo grass. Sometimes they sprout alongside a pot. Sometimes they sprout inside the pot. Some of the weeds below really are not good. But can you also spot strawberry, lemon balm, parsley, calendula, marigold, violet, aquilegia, and another whose name completely escapes me?

Go into the garden and pick 20 large young leaves from your grapevine (or your neighbour’s), 2 or 3 lemons or limes, large handfuls of parsely and mint.  Don’t forget to say hello to the chooks and give them some fresh leaves from your garden.

Thinly peel half a telegraph cucumber, or Lebanese cucumber. Cut along the whole length into very fine fingers, discarding the seeds.  Salt it generously and let it sit to soften in a colander for 30 mins.

In a saucepan, heat 300ml sushi rice, 450ml water, 10 allspice berries,10 peppercorns and a stick of cinnamon. When just boiling, cover and reduce heat to very low and simmmer 12 to 14 minutes. Take off the heat and leave covered 10 mins to cool.
While the rice is still warm, remove the berries and stick from the top, tip it into a bowl and gently combine it with 3tbs lime juice, 1 tbs castor sugar, 1/2tsp salt, removing any remaining berries. Let it cool further.

Leaving the stalks on, plunge the vine leaves into a large pot of boiling water, slosh them around a bit, so that the water moves freely between the leaves. Bring it back the boil, simmer 2 mins. Remove to a colander and refresh in cold water. (All this used water is handy for pre-rinsing your dirty dishes.)

Make a small quantity of red paste using 2 tbs tomato paste, ¼ tsp freshly ground allspice, plus the finely shredded rind and juice (about a tablespoon) from one small lime.
Make a much larger quantity of green paste. Measure about 300ml cold pre-cooked beans, such as borlotti, cannellini or lima. Whizz together the beans, a loose cup each of fresh parsley and mint, 4 tbs olive oil, 2 tbs nuts and a pinch of salt.  It should be a spreadable lump when finished.

Cut some very thin strips from a half a red onion or salad onion. Cut any rings in half and separate into strands.
Wash the salt from the cucumber and dry it on paper towel.

Lay four or more vine leaves, veins up, on the flat side of your bamboo nori roll mat (bamboo sticks going crosswise). With scissors, snip off the leaf stems at the base. You need to partly overlap the leaves to avoid gaps. (Don’t worry too much about overhang at the side edges of the mat – they can be cut off the made-up roll if you are fussy.)
Make 3 to 4 vine-leaf wrapped logs, just as you would for Japanese nori rolls.  Spread your rice out over the leaves, around a cup for each log, on which you spread a rounded tsp of red paste as a thin ribbon from side to side. Top that with slivers of onion, running edge to edge, generous dollopings of green paste, spread evenly, and slivers of cucumber. Roll up and refrigerate.
When all the logs are made, slice them into discs using a sharp, large, wetted knife. You will need to wipe and wet the knife often. Place on a serving platter and refrigerate. They can be served as is, or with your best olive oil on the side for dipping.

I would have taken a photo, but the whole thing was demolished before I bothered to get the camera. The rolls are very pretty. Next time, I’ll add photos to this post.

 

 Filling:  Mix together...

• ¾C washed long-grain rice
• 2 finely chopped tomatoes
• Half an onion, chopped
• ½C each chopped mint & parsley
• ½ tsp each freshly-ground allspice & pepper
• ½ tsp salt
• Juice from a lemon (or lime)
• 3 tbs olive oil

To soften the leaves, blanch them for a few seconds in a pot of boiling water (or carefully pour a kettle-full over them).  Place in drainer, face-down.
Line a (lidded) medium frypan (28cm) with vine leaves, to prevent sticking.
Spread a few leaves out on the bench, face down (veins up) stalk pointing left. Snip off the stalks with scissors.
Place 1tsp of filling towards the stalk end of each leaf and flatten it out a bit.
Start rolling up the leaf from the side closest to you. Fold in the point of the leaf (from the right). Continue rolling to just past the centre, fold in the base of the leaf (from the left), then complete the roll. (Once you’ve done a few, this is easy.)
You should have a neat roll about 1cm x 6cm. Place it into the frypan, seam underneath.
Snugly fill the pan with rolls. Sprinkle with another lemon, and barely cover the rolls with water.
Put an upturned plate onto the rolls, to hold them in place.
Bring the pan gently to the boil. Place the lid on the pan and drop the heat to minimum. Simmer 50mins to 1hour. 
Remove lid and cool in the pan 10 minutes.
Carefully upturn the rolls onto a plate. They can be eaten warm or cool, drizzled with your best olive oil.