THE ROYAL HOUSE OF WINDSOR IS NOT FOR ME!

Windsor Hotel...and Windsor Hotel Lobby

Lunch, anyone?

A foreword...some thought my previous post a little lengthy to waste time upon reading, believing it to be more a Reader's Digest version of "Gone With the Wind" than a blog post...so to ease the pain...this post is much shorter...even shorter if you don't read the recipes; or if you read the recipes and not the content...whichever is to your taste!  

(By the way...don't mistake the pictures to the right of this page...I'm the one shown in the lower picture)!

The Royal House of Windsor may not be for me, or them for me (we mix in different circles, squares, rectangles and piazzas); and neither is the noble, luxury, notable, exalted Hotel Windsor in Melbourne, but that didn’t stop me from entering its elaborate doors during a business trip to the southern city in the mid 80s.

It wouldn’t have felt right to frequent Melbourne’s nightlife and not have made an appearance at the Hotel Windsor.

After all, the legendary hotel had been the hang-out of previous illustrious, celebrated guests such as Maggie Thatcher, Meryl Streep, Gregory Peck, Larry Olivier and Vivien Leigh.

Those other three Dames - Melba, Sutherland and Fonteyn graced its halls...why not me? 

The Duke and Duchess of York (both of whom unexpectedly had to change outfits and their address when he became King George Vl, and the Duchess, having little other choice, eventually the “Queen Mum”) also sipped and supped at the Windsor.

As did Rudolph Nureyev and Sir Robert Helpmann in between doing high leaps and arabesques; and, so help me, did Katharine Hepburn and Lauren Bacall, as well many other famous people.

One time or the other while in Melbourne on a business trip I arranged to dine with some resort guests to whom I’d played “hostess with the mostest” on Hinchinbrook Island a few months earlier.  My dinner guests had, in their own ways, been lots of fun during their time spent lazing leisurely at the resort.

On the particular night of the Windsor escapades my companions were husband and wife, David and Margaret; and Dennis, a clever chappy who was heading off for a stint at Oxford University shortly after our dining sojourn. David was a plastic surgeon.

One morning, while he was a guest at the resort David proved his knife skills when he operated on a couple of fresh fish he’d caught only an hour or two earlier. 

He asked my permission for him to use the resort’s kitchen. In turn I asked my chef for his permission for David to step foot into his hallowed domain, because he, David, wanted to prepare ceviche.  My chef, also named “David”, said it was peachy for guest David to make ceviche.

Dennis was academically-inclined in one direction or another.  Not being academically-minded myself I can’t remember in what field Dennis roamed; but it definitely wasn’t a wheat field, that much I do remember.

Dressed up to the nine and halves the four of us entered the Hotel Windsor’s stately, rejuvenated lounge bar. Once comfortably seated around a table we placed our drinks’ order with an appropriately-attired drink waiter. I swear he clicked his heels to attention when he reached our table. 

The atmosphere in the lounge was pompously “stiff-upper-lip”. Perhaps the staff had been patients of David’s and had received a few jabs of Botox or ear tucks.  Even the slightest hint of a smile was indiscernible.

Befitting the sedate atmosphere in which the other patrons whispered as if planning a heist, when placing the order in a hushed tone, I’d asked for a top-shelf single malt Scotch for me.

Looking at the whisky placed before me it was obvious there wasn’t a water shortage in Melbourne that year! My Scotch was swimming raised eyebrow-deep in water!

Without making a fuss, I subtly slipped money to the waiter as I politely and quietly asked him to add another nip to my glass.

In the spirit of the occasion my aim was to taste the spirit, not have only a puny hint of a whiff waft past my nostrils; particularly seeing the whisky (that I couldn’t see) was a quality aged single malt. 

Red alert! You’d swear I’d morphed into Rasputin!

The waiter’s already rigidly formal demeanor stiffened even further; something I’d thought would’ve been impossible to have achieved! 

It was obvious housekeeping was missing a broom - it was glued to his spine (or elsewhere, but I’m too polite to say where)!

With pursed mouth, his nose turned even higher towards the Windsor’s lofty ceiling. I cared not for his puckering and pursing.  He could pucker, huff and puff all he liked, but payment of my drink and those of my guests came from my purse - I expected to receive what I’d paid for.

 My guests and I had many anecdotes to share. Lively laughter emanated from our table. As soon as we finished our drinks we decided the Windsor’s staid ambience and our happy, animated mood didn’t blend.  We headed off to somewhere more receptive to our festive spirits.

I think even the Windsors of Buckingham Palace would’ve been less reserved than the Hotel Windsor and its staff!

The majestic old hotel, built in 1884, has had many facelifts over the years, not unlike some of David’s clients, I imagine. 

Scallop & Kingfish Ceviche: Place 16 scallops, without roe, very thinly sliced, 220g kingfish or other firm-fleshed, fresh white fish, very thinly slice and ¾ cup lime juice in a large bowl; toss gently to combine. Cover with plastic wrap; marinate in the fridge for 30 minutes. Drain seafood through a sieve; discard marinade. Place seafood in a bowl. Add 1 long green chilli, seeded, very thinly sliced, ½ red onion, very thinly sliced, 1c baby coriander leaves, 1 Lebanese cucumber, very thinly sliced lengthways and 2 radishes, very thinly sliced. Season to taste with salt and pepper; toss gently to combine. Divide ceviche among plates, then drizzle with a little ex-virgin olive oil. Serve with toasted sourdough baguette..

Victoria Sponge: Grease and line 20cm round cake tin. Set aside 225g S.R. flour and 4 eggs.  Cream 225g butter, 225g caster sugar and 1/4tsp vanilla until fluffy. Add 1 beaten egg and 1tbs of the flour to the butter/sugar; beat together until all eggs are used; fold in rest of flour with metal spoon. Pour into tin. Bake in 180C oven, 40-50mins until cake springs back when pressed gently. Turn out onto rack. Slice cooled cake in half horizontally; fill with raspberry or strawberry jam, and then Buttercream:- beat 110g icing sugar into 50g softened butter until well combined; add 2 drops vanilla. Put other half of cake on top; sprinkle with caster sugar.

Windsor Wedding Cake: Grease and line 9-inch tin (or spring-form). Crush Rich Tea Biscuits to almond-size and crumbles; add chopped glacé cherries, 56g raisins and chopped nuts, if desired; set aside. Melt 110g butter, 400g condensed milk and 150g chocolate over low; pour over biscuit mix; stir to combine; pour into tin. Freeze 2-3hrs; take from freezer 2-3hrs before serving. Melt 150g chocolate; spread over cake. Flavour cake with whisky, peppermint essence or whatever, if you like.

Royal Raspberry Cake: Combine 2c plain flour, 1/2tsp salt and 1tbs baking powder. Cream 1/3c butter and 1c sugar until fluffy; beat in 1 room temp egg, 1c room temp milk and 1tsp vanilla; add dry ingredients alternately with milk mix; beat well after each addition. Spread into greased 13x9-inch dish; spoon 3-1/2c fresh or thawed frozen raspberries over top. Bake at 175C, 30-35mins. Cool 5mins. Combine: 1-1/2c icing sugar, 2tbs cream, 2tsp melted butter and vanilla; spread over cake; leave berries exposed.