FIFTY SHADES OF RED…..

 

Upon looking in the mirror one Monday morning in 1971 after I’d spent the weekend at Tangalooma Resort on Moreton Island I saw red.  Having spent far too long under the hot, summer south-east Queensland sun, I looked like a cooked lobster or crab! What a silly prawn I was to have been so careless.  Even more embarrassed was I when I began to peel like a bunch of bananas.

Dining out in restaurants wasn’t the “thing” when I was a kid.  Actually, back then there were no restaurants in my old home town, only small cafes.  The opening of the Dorith Restaurant in the early 60s was a major, exciting step forward into the “modern” world for the Gympie townsfolk. To dine out, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, was daunting to a shy, young lass just beginning to tip her toes into the unknown, adult world. Until I gathered up courage, I viewed the Dorith from afar. 

A friend and I had not long turned 16, and were on our first unsupervised visit to the “big city” aka Brisbane.   For lunch, we chose to dine at Christies, a popular venue in Queen Street at the time.  My friend ordered toasted sandwiches. Inhaling deeply, bravely I decided to try my luck, test my nerves…swallow my embarrassment; bite the bullet…in this instance, the spaghetti.  

In a case of do or die; or choke and die, I chose Spaghetti Bolognese.  With fork in hand, surrounded by strangers, I tackled the tangled mangle of strands before me. I managed to swallow the spaghetti with finesse, no mess, and no embarrassment.  Not a strand went astray. Whew!

A few years after conquering the art of eating spaghetti while in the company of strangers, I resolved to test my mettle out in the public dining field once again. Determinedly, I dared, again, to tackle the unfamiliar, resolving to stick to my guns until my embarrassment subsided, and success was achieved.  My challenge was to conquer handling chopsticks, without dropping food, poking out my eyes, or those of fellow diners. I figured the best way to achieve my goal was tackling the challenge while I was in the presence of strangers. Taking deep breaths, alone I ventured forth into the unknown, a couple of times a week. Off to lunch at one of the many Chinese restaurants in Brisbane’s Fortitude Valley to teach myself the skill I went, head held high.  With unwavering firmness of purpose, I managed not to make a total fool of myself, nor did I turn the colour of beetroot during the process…not that I can recall, anyway. 

The following is a prime example of…“you can’t take me anywhere”.  

A number of years ago, I managed, at the commencement of an evening of “firsts”, to spill my first glass red wine down the front of my new, cream, woolen jumper. Luckily, I was the one wearing it, and not someone else.  Not only was it the first time I’d worn the jumper, and the first time I’d been invited to the home for a night of pleasant dining, wining and conversation, but, also, it was the first time I met the other guests. The spillage caused the colour of my face to match that of the spilt Shiraz, but I forged forth, pretending I’d resurrected the tie-dyeing craze of the 60s-70s.

To top things off…the other day after a brief visit to my nearby neighbours, my car battery decided to cark it. My poor neighbour, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, even though my dilemma occurred at his place, had to push my car, with a totally useless me at the stirring wheel, out of his yard, and down the road a bit to push-start it.  I needed a kick-start, too…still do.  Feeling like an idiot, I turned scarlet.  Embarrassed I was for having being the cause of his unexpected, excess exercise that morning. Mingled with my redness was a great deal of gratitude for his thoughtful assistance.  No wonder he’s dodged me ever since!

Colour flooded my face when, after about a year of calling a neighbour of long ago, Pat, I discovered her name was, in fact, “Dee”…Dee Pending, not Pat Pending!  Mr. and Mrs. Collins who lived next door to Dee didn’t give the future much thought when they named their son, “Tom”.  Tom was a popular feature in cocktail bars. Every time the barmen called out his name he flushed a brilliant shade of red as he ducked for cover.

Beetroot Curry: Slice 500g beetroot into slices of about 3 mm in thickness. Once sliced, julienne the beetroot slices into batons. Place julienned beetroot in a saucepan, with ¼ red onion, sliced, sliced green chilli, 2 finely chopped garlic cloves, 5-6 curry leaves, 1/2tsp curry powder, 1/4tsp turmeric, 1/2tsp cayenne, and 1/4tsp salt; combine well. Stir in 1/2c coconut milk and 1/2c water. Place over med-high heat; stir occasionally, until it comes to the boil. Reduce heat to simmer; cook, covered, about 5mins. Uncover; cook further 5-10mins, stirring frequently, until beetroot is al dente.  Cooking time will vary depending on beetroot thickness and size. Add more water or coconut milk, if needed.  Serve with rice.

Berry Delightful: Combine 3c mixed red berries (cut strawberries in half), 2tbs sugar, 1tbs fresh orange juice, 1tsp finely grated lemon zest, 1tsp lemon juice, 1tsp fresh lime juice, and 1 sprig of basil, torn into pieces, in heatproof bowl; toss to coat. Cover with plastic wrap. Place over a large saucepan of simmering water; cook 10mins. Let cool 15mins. Chill until cold, about 4hrs. Divide fruit and juices among bowls; drizzle with a little x-virgin oil; garnish with basil leaves and freshly ground black pepper; top with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.