Sydneyside with Janet Parr PAVLOVA CONTROVERSY REVIVED

Press, Volume CXVI, Issue 34048, 12 January 1976, Page 6

Sydneyside with Janet Parr PAVLOVA CONTROVERSY REVIVED

In the wake of a year that was not especially remarkable for its sweetness and light, the Great Pavlova Controversy may seem small stuff compared to some of the other great debates that went on.

There were oil and oil money for instance, welfare, supergirls, women, marriage, abortion, divorce, education, a Prime Minister sacked, an election no-one really wanted — you name it and we had it. So I supposed there was nothing really to stop the garrulous gourmets in our midst from finding a bone to pick too. You see every rightminded Australian has always known, proof positive, that the pavlova was an Australian invention. The certainty was reinforced during the year by the death of Herbert Sasche who was a chef at the now-demolished Esplanade Hotel in Perth when, according to the Australian claim, he dedicated the pavlova to the great ballerina on her Australian visit. NO CHECK

But while the Sasche obituary named him as the man who invented the pavlova, by the time the Great Pavlova Controversy blew up Sasche had died and there was no way of checking his claim apart from what everyone knew for a fact.

Then came along this new book, “Pacific and South East Asian Cooking,” a Time-Life product that cast an eye over Australian and New Zealand cuisine, found it apparently somewhat limited in its scope and awarded the pavlova to New Zealand. Comparison did turn up a few differences in construction between the Australian and New Zealand versions. The New Zealand recipe called for lemon juice in the meringue mixture whereas all good Australian pavlova cooks know it is the dash of vinegar they put in that makes a good pavlova. The New Zealand meringue is topped off with whipped cream and Chinese gooseberries, mentioned specifically ahead of fresh strawberries and raspberries. Australians often equate pavlovas with passion fruit, especially if they have a glut of them on the home vine because it is a surefire way of getting rid of a lot of them in one go.

The whole thing was enough to make Australian hackles rise, but all the same a seed of doubt had been sown. Mr Sasche might have settled it but he was dead. And in the circumstances how could anyone else really be absolutely nice? The experts agreed to let the matter rest. Whether or not the dedicated pavlova cooks from coast to coast will is another matter. And Perth, apparently, is not lightly going to give up its claim to being the birthplace of the pavlova. NEW CONFECTION

For recalling that historical event, that blending of cuisine and culture — I almost said unique blending but it would not be true for one has to remember the Peche Melba — another chef in another, newer, hotel in that city has just whipped up another confection, this time to honour the visit of Dame Joan Hammond .

If nothing else L’Orange d’Hammond shows how

tastes in food have changed since the invention of the pavlova, that ornate edifice of confectionery that would have looked very much at home as an illustration for an old cbpy of Mrs Beeton. L’Orange d’Hammond is “a tangy icy delight,” to quote one description and uses various kinds of West Australian oranges. To make it, a slice is taken off the top of an orange, the flesh scooped out and mixed with champagne, Grand Marnier and some “secret ingredients.”

The whole lot is then put back in the orange shell and the lid put back on with a decoration of mint leaves.

If you think there is material for a future debate about just what those “secret ernigdietsn etaoni etaoin ret ingredients” are, you might be quite right. But the .question might just be a simple one. After all, does an orange already stuffed to hiccuping with champagne and Grand Marnier really need them?