IF THE SPIRIT IS WILLING…

St. Bernard's Hotel

                                                            St. Bernards at St. Bernard's...

View from the rear dining area of St. Bernard's Hotel, looking over towards the Gold Coast

Rightly, and wrongly through the years I’ve been accused of many things.  Rightly, when guilty, I’ve admitted to my wrong-doing. However, the latest blot upon the sometimes blotted episodes along the winding path of my life really takes the cake!  Feeling spirited, I could waft on at length, and my protestations might not stand a ghost of a chance but, regardless, I fervently deny I am guilty of what I am presently being falsely and unfairly accused.

With hand on heavy heart, I hereby admit the last time I visited St. Bernard’s Hotel was during the daylight hours of Monday, 14^th January, 2019.  I was not alone. The two gentlemen who treated me to lunch were my now late ex-husband and his brother. The three of us arrived shortly after noon, and left a couple of hours later, having enjoyed, not only each other’s company, but also the fine fare offered by the hotel’s kitchen staff.  When our pleasant interlude came to an end my luncheon hosts escorted me home before they drove off the mountain back down to the Gold Coast. Not once since those special couple of hours have I haunted St. Bernard’s Hotel, not once. Not in the mornings, not at noon, nor in the afternoons, nor moonless nights, and never in the brightness of moonlight nights have I done so. My being accused of such behavior is shattering my spirit. Instead of pointing the finger at me, has anyone considered the hotel’s nightly visitor could very well be Casper? 

Chivas Regal Scotch Whisky, the only spirit hanging around hereabouts, remains secure in its bottle sitting upon a shelf.  It hasn’t escaped its container since purchase a few years ago.  It’s never been out of the unopened box in which the unopened bottle sits.  Not a skerrick of the spirit has broken free, been let loose, so it’s not to blame, either. If the fallacious floating spirit accusations continue I might be driven to flip my lid, and the lid of the spirit bottle. To borrow Queen Gertrude’s quote from Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” – “The lady doth protest too much, methinks”… this is what you’re probably thinking.   Fair crack of the whip! Fair suck of the sauce bottle…or Scotch bottle!   To remove any remaining doubts, I hereby inform positively, and honestly, it is not me who is floating around St. Bernard’s at all hours of the night! These days, and nights, I admit I do look like I haunt houses, but I assure you, I do not. Rarely do I leave these four walls during the daylight hours, let alone at night.  Just ask my furry roomie, Shama.  She, with paw on heart, will verify my words.

By George!  If my word isn’t good enough, and further proof I am telling the truth is required, as I write, and the last time I looked (without cracking the mirror, by the way), I am still alive. No buckets have yet been kicked. To allay any lurking doubts you might have, I’ve a few buckets around here.  So far, for your information, and peace of mind, I have managed not to kick any of them.  Surely, this information will calm, pacify, and finally set to rest, that at night I am securely tucked in, set to rest.  My fellow citizens, you have nothing to worry about…nothing whatsoever. The very least of your worries is me.  A roaming spirit I am not. There’s not a ghost of a chance of me being such…not yet, anyway. 

I give you my word. The only places I haunt once or twice a week, in daylight hours, are the newsagency and IGA,.  I don’t scare anyone. At least, I don’t think I do.  If you stumble across a ghostly apparition in St. Bernard’s Hotel at midnight, it is not me.  However, if you come across a haunting sight shortly after 7 am at the North Tamborine shopping centre, it won’t be a spectre you spot, it most likely will be a very much alive me.  Finally, to lay the matter to rest, in a manner of speaking, I am neither George of the Jungle, nor am I George of St. Bernard’s….

 

PS....The powers that be at St. Bernard's call the ghost "George".  For those of you who are unaware....my surname is "George"!  :)

 

 

 Creamy Whisky Salmon: Cook 300g linguine per packet instructions; save some pasta water. Melt 2tbs butter in pan; sauté 1 chopped medium red onion until softened.  Add 150g shredded smoked salmon; cook 1-2mins. Pour in 2tbs whisky; cook until it evaporates; stir in 1tsp wholegrain mustard; cook 1min. Add 1c double cream; cook about 1min; add drained pasta. If sauce looks too thick, stir in some pasta water. Sprinkle serves with chopped parsley.

Roast Pork with Scotch Whisky Glaze: Prepare brine; combine 8c hot water, 1/3c salt and 1/3c sugar in large bowl; stir until salt and sugar are dissolved. Cool completely. Submerge 3kg bone-in pork loin rip roast, chine bone removed, in brine.  Weigh it down using a plate with a jar of water on it. Keep roast submerged completely. Cover; refrigerate, turning roast occasionally, for 18 -24 hours. To make glaze:  Combine 1c orange juice, 2tbs finely chopped onion,1-1/2tsp grated orange peel, and 1-1/2tsp grated fresh ginger in small saucepan. Boil; reduce heat; simmer, stirring often, until the consistency of a thin syrup, 12-15mins. Stir in 1/4c Scotch Whisky, 2tbs tomato paste and 2tbs dry mustard. Simmer 2mins; cool. Glaze can be prepared and chilled for up to 24hrs. Remove roast from brine; pat dry. Heat 2tbs oil in roasting pan over med-heat. With meaty side down first, brown pork on all sides. With bone side up, spread with half of glaze.  Roast in pre-heated 190C oven, 30mins. Remove pan from oven; turn roast over; spread glaze over meaty side. Continue roasting 2hrs or so. Let stand 15mins before carving roast, between bones.