Kitchen Connection

G’DAY, MATE! HOW’RE YA GOIN’? YOU LITTLE BEWDY! GOOD ONYA!

2012-01-21T19:16:00.000-08:00

I can’t pinpoint the exact year of my first Australia Day memory, but I was probably 9 or 10 when the story below unfolded.

With a picnic lunch in tow, we grabbed our swags and high-tailed it to Widgee Crossing in readiness for a fun, family Aussie Day on the banks of the Mary River.

Widgee Crossing existed long before “Widgies” in pedal-pushers and duck-tailed, Brylcreem-haired “Bodgies” cut a rug to Bill Haley’s “Rock Around the Clock”; and long before they hung around milk bars where, in hushed tones, they discussed what forbidden activities might be going on behind Jim Lowe’s mysterious “Green Door”. There’s no “Bodgie Crossing”; although I’m sure there were a few dodgy bodgies who got cross if someone tried crossing them! On a whole, they were a harmless lot with only few amongst them true blue delinquents, I imagine. Most “Bodgies” were all shine and no shoes! Stone the flamin’ crows! I’ve strayed off the bush track - again!

Soon after arriving at our destination we chose a beaut shady possie handy to the water. Graham, my brother, and I immediately shot off to find wood for our campfire. The fresh country air and the thrill of cooking our lunch on an open fire had elevated our appetites. We were starving, making a horse in the nearby paddock very nervous, indeed!

After our delicious early lunch we felt as full as googs, or as butcher’s dogs. Biding time until our “lunch went down”, Graham and I mucked about on the riverbank. Being his usual ratbag self, he carried on like a pork chop, acting like he wasn’t the full quid! Already in our togs, we were biting at the bit to go swimming. Not another soul was within cooee at Widgee Crossing that day. We were on our Pat Malone.

Our lunch finally “settled” and, without further delay, into the river we leapt. A race to the other side ensued. Graham beat me by a whisker! Not wanting to be a wuss, full of bravado I declared a rematch. Back and forth we swam until…Wham! Something stung my left foot! Fair suck of the sav! Strewth! It hurt!

In agony, I swam back our camp’s side of the river and limped to our picnic spot beside the campfire. My foot felt like it was being stabbed with shards of hot glass. I was feeling more emotional than Bob Hawke at a book launch!

We believed a cranky catfish stung me because I’d disturbed it during its cat nap! For the rest of the arvo I sat with my foot close to the campfire seeking relief. I reckoned I’d gotten the rough end of the pineapple!

After a while the mozzies descended. It was time to shoot through. Still in our cozies, we left our no longer cosy possie to the mozzies!

It’d been a ripsnorter Aussie Day; a real corker - that is until a cantankerous catfish spat the dummy – which was about as funny as a kick in the head! Be proud to be an Aussie; embrace and enjoy it! Make everyday Australia Day! Never lose the spirit!

HAPPY AUSTRALIA DAY - 26th JANUARY.

Nana’s Campfire Spuds: Slice 10-12 scrubbed spuds, 1/2cm thick. Layer alternately potatoes, chopped onion, chopped red and green capsicums, finely-chopped garlic, salt, pepper and a little butter on piece of heavy-duty foil (add sliced sweet potatoes for variety). Repeat layers until all spuds are used; top with foil; seal. Cook on barbie or on a rack in the coals, 60-90mins; turn often to prevent burning. This is excellent cooked in pan for breakfast as well; just cut down quantity and stir together.

Campfire Couscous: In saucepan on med-heat campfire/stove, heat 2tbls oil. Add 1 thinly-sliced garlic clove; season well; stir occasionally; cook until garlic softened, not browned. Add 3c dry couscous; stir to coat with oil; cook, stirring often, until couscous is golden brown, about 5mins; add 4-1/2c water and thyme sprig; simmer until couscous is tender and water absorbed. Remove from heat; add 2 zucchini finely-diced; cover; set aside until zucchini is tender; add 1/4c toasted pine nuts, 3tbl currants and 2tbls oil; season.

Campfire Chicken: Grab a piece of heavy-duty foil per person; sprinkle foil with salt, pepper and spices of choice; place half chicken breast, meaty side down onto seasonings. Arrange chats, baby carrots and corn cobs around chicken. Cut red onions and tomatoes into wedges or thick slices; place on top. Close foil; grill or bake pouch until all is cooked and tender. Aussie

Meal-in-One: In centre of piece of foil, place beef patty (or lamb/chicken/ pork). Place 3 thin slices of onion on top; then top with potato slices; season with salt, pepper and garlic; add large spoon of bacon-flavoured baked beans on top. Seal foil securely; place in hot coals, 30-45mins.

BRIGHT-EYED, BUSHY-TAILED… I’M READY, WILLING AND ABLE!!

2012-01-06T17:58:00.000-08:00

Never again shall I be swayed; never again shall I be tempted! No! No! No!

At the beginning of 2011 I broke my pledge never to make New Year resolutions. I made a resolution that I was going to win Lotto in 2011. Between you, me and them - it didn’t happen! That will teach me to break my own cardinal rule! Serves me right for being so flippant!

By the time midnight arrived on New Year’s Eve my face was purple and taut; an unattractive image caused by holding my breath in anticipation throughout the previous 12 months. Do you know how uncomfortable and painful that is? I hoped the wind wouldn’t change until I could get my face back to some semblance of normality. Even more discouraging and disheartening - it wasn’t me who broke my New Year’s resolution. The blame doesn’t lie at my door – it was Lotto, solely, who failed to come to the aid of the party! As for getting my face “back to some semblance of normality” that, too, might be wishful thinking and hoping!

All that aside – I had a wonderful Christmas, commencing at my friends, Derek and Denise’s annual Christmas party, where I mingled with familiar, friendly faces; and also met some nice new ones - most of whom I won't meet again until next Christmas!

As it is every year, it was a great party, and, as usual, I had a good time! I didn’t dance on any tables, however! I’m flat out climbing upon or getting off them nowadays; let alone dancing on them!

Shortly after that celebration, Christmas landed in all its glory. I spent it with my nephew and his family who live at Armstrong Beach, south of Mackay. They visiting down this way and were holidaying aloft in an apartment on the 17th floor at the Q1 Building at Surfer's Paradise, the Gold Coast. Until very recently, the Q1 was the tallest residential building in the world. The Marina Torch in Dubai stole its title back in April, 2011.

The rumours are true! Christmas is all about children. Being present early Christmas morning to witness my grand-niece and nephew's excited, uninhibited smiles; their bodies quivering with joyful anticipation, is the best gift of all.

A demolition derby began before the hooter hooted. The living room promptly transformed into a scene of mass destruction. With reckless abandon, reams of colourful wrapping paper was torn and tossed asunder (and that was just by me) to reach the hidden surprises within. Debris covered the floor, sofa and kitchen bench; it escaped down the hallway and out to the sun-room. Christmas afternoon was spent by the complex’s pool watching the kiddies pretend to be dolphins. I was sure I recognised the foreign flotsam flagrantly floating in the complex’s pool to be some of our renegade wrapping paper!

On Boxing Day we had a barbecue at the Broadwater, Southport. We adults lazed at a picnic table beneath a shady tree, while the energetic “littlies” scooted back and forth on their new scooters. Proudly, they displayed their dexterity at scooter operation! And me – well, I’m proud to be related to that lovely little family. We shared a very happy Christmas, creating a wealth of new memories.

New Year’s Eve arrived accompanied by my good mate of long-standing from down yonder way aka the Gold Coast. Like one of the Three Wise Men, he came bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, or so it seemed. He was armed to the hilt with all manner of gifts for me; including a bottle of Dimple for us to share. We successfully ironed out its dimples! So very smooth it was; a mature 15 year old! I mustered a herd of “Brown Cows” later in the night, as well! They were “moo-vellous”!

My Christmas was wonderful shared with my favourite relatives; and I enjoyed a happy, relaxed New Year’s weekend with a good friend.

Bring it on, 2012! Let’s get off to an excellent start! I’m ready when you are!

Prunes in Orange Juice: In saucepan, combine 1c fresh orange juice, 1tbs lemon juice, 1tsp grated lemon zest, 1/4c honey and 1/2tsp cinnamon; bring to simmer on high heat; add 24 pitted prunes; turn heat very low; cover; simmer about 10mins, don’t allow prunes to become soggy. Add 1/4/c chopped walnuts; cook 1-2mins. Remove prunes with slotted spoon; turn heat to med-high; reduce liquid by half; pour syrup over prunes; serve chilled or warm.

Energizing Oats: Add pinch of salt to 2c water; bring to boil; turn heat low; add 1c old-fashioned rolled oats; cook about 5mins; stirring; add 1/2tsp cinnamon, 1/4c raisins and 1/4c sliced almonds; stir; cover pan; turn off heat; let it sit 5mins; serve with soy or skim milk and a 1tbs molasses (if desired).

Breakfast Bagel: Bring about 3/4c water with 1tsp cider vinegar added (or half lemon) to light boil in shallow pan; make sure there is enough water to cover egg. Toast half a whole-wheat bagel; place 2 slices each tomato and avocado and 55g low-fat cheese on bagel half. Poach egg just until white is set and yolk has filmed over; remove with slotted spoon; place on top of bagel; season to taste; serve open-faced (with a smile!).

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

ARE WE THERE YET?

2011-12-19T13:20:00.000-08:00

2011 is sliding off the edge of the globe! I don’t like willing time away, but I’m happy to see the rear end of this year as it nears the horizon. Actually, I feel like giving it a boot in the butt to boost it on its way!

In 1992 Queen Elizabeth surprised everyone when she restored life to the Latin phrase “annus horribilis”. Liz had us diving for our dictionaries. Google had not yet arrived on our desktops. Kofi Annan, the then UN Secretary-General, resurrected the phrase in 2004; not one to miss the boat, Juan Carlos of Spain threw a spanner into the works by dragging it to the surface again in 2007.

Now it’s my turn!

It’s all Greek, Double Dutch and Latin to me - so in plain old, sometimes uncomplicated English, this year has been, minus embellishment or exaggeration, a horrible year; one filled with never-ending tragedies; devastating disasters and anxieties; one awash with tears. 2011 has been a year scarred by natural and unnatural disasters; blotted by man’s unconscionable inhumanity to man; pointless violence; senseless cruelty to animals; hate and prejudice.

I have one all-encompassing Christmas wish - for everyone to have a safe, happy, peaceful, stress and strife-free time; whether you’re with family, friends or alone.

Please ensure whatever you’re doing isn’t detrimental to the safety of yourself or others. Borrow the Hippie-Flower Child ideals - they won’t mind; they probably won't even know - spread love, goodwill, peace and happiness. Don’t cease when the Christmas season ends; continue through 2012 and forever thereafter. Everyone, including you, will reap the benefits!

After all the devastating, terrifying, horrific, heartbreaking events of 2011; the unending sadness, loss and despair suffered by far too many in our own country and elsewhere in the world, smooth waters upon which to sail are due; tranquil, serene conditions through which to glide are in arrears. Grief became an uninvited, unwelcome visitor far too often in 2011.

Enough already!

Once again I’ll be joining the Griswold family for their “Christmas Vacation”. Not a Christmas goes by without my doing so. What’s Christmas without Chevy Chase aka Clark Griswold and his crazy, dysfunctional family? They make me feel at home. I’ll enjoy their company as I always do!

And, as always, I refuse to be politically-correct! MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone! Happy New Year, as well!

May 2012 overflow with kindness and love. Stay safe; chill out; stay cool; be grateful for all that is good in your life!

Cheesy-Christmas Chick: Combine 150g garlic and herb creamy cheese, 1 crushed garlic clove, 25g chopped, unsalted pistachios, 1tsp chopped sage, grated rind and juice of ½ lemon, salt and cracked pepper. Carefully ease your fingers, then hand under skin of large chicken at neck end, freeing it from breast meat; smear mixture under skin; tuck in skin flap. Arrange 8 bacon rashers over breast; drizzle with olive oil; season. Place in roasting tin on top of some fresh rosemary springs; cover with foil. Calculate cooking time 16mins per 450g; remove foil last 45mins. When cooked, transfer to warm platter; cover; rest 20mins. Skim fat from pan; place on low heat; blend 4tbs dry sherry with 400ml chicken stock; bring to boil; season.

Christmas Left-Overs’ Macaroni & Cheese: To 1/4c butter; add ½ onion, chopped, minced sage leaves, 2 minced garlic cloves; sauté 5mins; add 1/4c flour; stir; cook 5mins; add 1.4lts milk; whisk until it boils and thickens. Whisk in 1c mascarpone, 1c grated cheddar and 1c grated gruyere. When melted and sauce smooth, fold in 450g shredded left-over turkey meat, 3c diced, cooked kumara, 1c cooked peas and 450g cooked macaroni; season; transfer to oven dish; sprinkle 2c grated cheddar on top; bake at 176C, 20-25mins; place 1tbs cranberry sauce in centre; serve.

Cream Cheese Christmas Biscuits: Cream 1c butter and 240g cream cheese; add 1c white sugar and 1/2tsp vanilla; beat until light and fluffy. Combine 2-1/2c plain flour and 1/2tsp salt; gradually add to creamed mix, beating until well-blended; add 1/2c chopped pecans; cover; chill 15mins. On 4 sheets foil, shape dough into 4x6-inch rolls, 1-1/2-inches in diameter; tightly wrap each in foil; chill over night. Line baking trays with foil; remove rolls from fridge one at a time; coat each roll with red or green sugar crystals (food colouring added to sugar); cut dough into ¼-inch slices; place on trays; top each biscuit with pecan half; bake 15-18mins in preheated 165C oven.

MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE!

YOU TALKIN’ TO ME? YOU TALKIN’ TO ME? YOU TALKIN’ TO ME?

2011-12-12T14:47:00.000-08:00

The title is uttered in my impeccable “Travis Bickle” aka Robert De Niro voice!

I'm sure you, like me, have had those moments - you know the ones - trying to hold your tongue when listening to another person drone on and on endlessly. We’ve all been caught in that situation at one time or the other; and no doubt will continue being trapped in the future.

It made me stop and think for a bit! Uh-oh! I’m an offender! I’ve committed this sin, too. I plead guilty! Shame on me! I doubt one amongst us can claim innocence; no matter how much one protests! If they do, it harks of: “the lady protests too much, methinks” - (it applies to the “man” as well – let’s not be sexist here)!

Staying on this train of thought, there have been times when chatting with someone or another it’s become very obvious I’ve lost his/her attention and interest. The clue - his/her eyes glaze over! Have you ever noticed this intriguing phenomenon? Perhaps your eyes are already starting to glaze over as you read this! Have I lost you already?

It’s off-putting when glazing happens during discourse. It doesn’t always happen, but it does occur; and when it does, I find it very disconcerting! The odd thing is it normally happens when the other person is the one who instigated the conversation!

Lured into a feeling of wellbeing, I’m invited in; the impression having been given that he/she wants my participation; their body language urging me to contribute my tuppence or thruppence, or perhaps a shillings’ worth. Soon after I’ve begun expending that worth (it’s akin to putting coins into a sideshow alley slot machine - it snaffles them up and giving little or nothing in return) I notice my co-conversationalist has lost interest. I’ve become invisible. He or she has drifted off into his/her own world, or reverted to doing whatever he/she was doing before instigating the conversation! What a quandary! I’m then left feeling uneasy; feeling like an intruder or an idiot; or worse, both!

Consumed by embarrassment, my voice dwindles to a whisper (or croak). Shuffling my feet in an almost indiscernible reverse motion, eventually I manage to blend back into the landscape once again! I don’t want to appear rude when trying to make my escape, even though the other person has already displayed his/her ignorance by glazing!

Glazing has been around a long time; long before planking became the craze of the day; and it’ll be around long after planking has been plonked!

So there I find myself; caught like a deer in the headlights, trying to escape a situation I didn’t want to be in, in the first place! An uncomfortable position made evident by the “glazing-over” of others!

It’s there, all right! I’ve seen it! I don’t need the assistance of a CSI team! There is no need to waste forensic experts’ time! Of course, I could stroke the “glazer’s” ego. He or she would soon bounce back to life; but I can’t be bothered! By that stage, I’ve lost interest!

Spicy Orange Glaze for Chicken/Duck: Put in saucepan, 3 crushed garlic cloves, 1tbs finely-grated ginger, 1/4tsp cayenne, 2tbs chilli paste, 1c marmalade, 1/3c rice vinegar, 1/4c hoisin sauce and 1tbs soy sauce; bring to boil over med-heat; cook, stirring, 3mins; cool. Marinate whole or butterflied chicken or chicken pieces a couple of hours; drain; roast or grill on barbecue.

Pork Roast with Spicy Maple Glaze: Preheat oven, 175C. Oil-spray bottom of shallow roasting pan. In bowl, combine 1c Maple syrup, 4tbs Dijon mustard, 2-1/2tbs each cider vinegar and light soy sauce, salt and pepper. Place pork roast in roasting pan; evenly spread with glaze; bake according to pork size; rest 10mins before serving.

Salmon Glaze: Combine 3tbs honey, 1tbs soy sauce and 1tbs sesame oil; spread over 2 salmon fillets; cook in 204C oven, 10mins.

Balsamic-Glazed Salmon: Combine; 3tbs balsamic, 1/4c vegetable oil, 2tbs brown sugar, 1tbs honey and 2-1/2tb soy in glass dish; add fresh salmon fillets, skin-on; marinate 1-3hrs; no longer. Grill salmon, skin-side down, covered, on oiled, preheated med-low grill, 7-9mins; cooking time varies with thickness of salmon and heat of grill.

Apricot-Glazed Ham: Combine 2c diced, dried apricots, zest of 1 orange, 2c sugar, 1/2c orange juice, 1-1/2c water and 2tbs honey; boil; lower heat; simmer 5mins. Add 12tsp each vanilla bean paste and cardamom, 14tsps each allspice and coriander and 1tsp minced fresh sage. Glaze ham with half mix; bake at 175C, about 45mins. Meanwhile, in saucepan, add 2c dried cranberries to remaining apricot mix; add 1c red wine. Simmer until thick. Serve this “chutney” with the ham.

RETRO INDULGENCE IS ALLOWED THIS TIME OF THE YEAR!

2011-12-08T15:29:00.000-08:00

Nowadays I’m a tortoise or perhaps a snail, even, when it comes to embracing the Christmas spirit! In retrospect, I think the decline in my not becoming overly excited set seed after Christmas 1990.

I was living on Newry Island at the time; alone with my two cats, and various other creatures of nature. For examples, koalas, echidnas, white-tailed bush rats amongst others; plus turtles, dolphins, coral rays and fish of many varieties. Visiting boats, trawlers, yachts and guests naturally were also part of my scenery and life. However, I savoured and loved the times I had the island to myself and my two furry, house-trained mates. I was very protected of my "alone" time...and I guess that hasn't changed over the years.

Newry Island is off the coast from Seaforth. Seaforth is approx 37kms north of Mackay. I managed all and sundry that was necessary in the running of the island's accommodation, bar, dining, boat transfers, generators, etc., etc., et al...and then some!

Life was going along smoothly leading up to Christmas/New Year, except that the island dam level was pretty low. No rain had visited my island paradise for quite some time and rain was needed. Be careful of what you wish for....

My island cabins were all booked out by families eager to enjoy the Christmas/New Year break. Two boatloads of day-visitors had booked wishing to partake in the island’s Christmas celebrations on the special day. It would necessitate my making two boat runs to the mainland early Christmas morning, and two return trips in the afternoon, but that was fine with me. My 21-foot Trojan de Havilland with its 175hp Johnson outboard motor was fueled and ready to do the deeds.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I'd planned my menu and festivities to the "nth" degree. I was readying everything for my guests to ensure a good time was had by all. No stone, including those of plums, peaches, cherries and apricots was left unturned! My pantry was stocked to the point of its groaning from major overload! Decorating the bar and dining area heightened my anticipation. I was like a child awaiting Santa.

High, sombre clouds obscured the sun at the dawning of Christmas Day. The swarthy heavens reflected lethargically upon an unruffled ocean. At that early stage in the morning the ocean was like a mirror. By 8 am I’d already made two trips to the mainland to collect my exuberant day-visitors. The bleak, yet windless morning wasn’t going to destroy our joyous mood! As soon as I'd deposited the day-trippers ashore, I disappeared back into the kitchen to do my final preparation for the planned buffet Christmas lunch. All was well in my island world!

Grudgingly, I thank Robbie Burns for the quote – “The best laid schemes o' mice an' men Gang aft agley" - translation: The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry! Well, Bob, they go awry for women, too!

Just before noon I discovered an uninvited, unwelcome visitor had raced swiftly towards my island home; keen to cause havoc amongst my merry revellers. All hell was breaking loose outside caused by its abrupt,angry arrival. It was obvious it wanted to vent its spleen. Why this was so, I had no idea! I was perplexed because I'd done nothing to raise its hackles as far as I knew!

Throughout the preceding 10 days, Cyclone Joy had teased the Cairns area, which was way north of Newry Island' around 570kms. Tiring of the Far North, Cyclone Joy did a rapid turnaround! Getting herself into a spin, she gathered speed and headed south to where I was innocently minding my own business.

Obviously she’d gotten wind of the feast I’d prepared, and of the fun my guests and I were having! There is an unintended pun there...

Over-confident, with blustering bad manners and garrulous gusto, Joy landed on my doorstep without an invitation. She turned the outside world into turmoil! Low, metallic-hued, threatening clouds hung heavily in the sky. The ocean had transformed into an angry, swirling, unforgiving monster. Without further ado, the clouds began depositing their load - relentlessly. Torrential rain pounded the island with no signs of ceasing

Inside the bar and dining area I had 30 stranded guests, but food in abundance - fortunately! "Fortunately" because "stranded" became the operative word. No one was going anywhere! I made it very clear that I would not be taking my island boat anywhere until after the mayhem had diminished...completely!

I gathered everyone together and calmly informed them of the situation and for them to prepare themselves for a hectic few days. I laid down rules to ensure that everyone remained safe, and told them to gather just what was necessary from their respective cabins because until the big "blow" was over, everyone was to stick together in the main building that housed the bar, restaurant, kitchen etc. I didn't want anyone wandering about outside alone. The threat of injury etc. was far too high. The cyclone raged outside; inside my guests mingled together, playing cards, darts, reading; they kept themselves entertained and I was left free to keep a keen eye on everything else and the exterior perimeters; making sure that everything was battened down so not to become dangerous missiles. I'd not had time to safely anchor my boat away from the raging seas. All I could do was hope and pray that it remained safe on its mooring. Breathlessly, with fingers crossed, I watched it buck like a wild, unbroken horse, straining at its mooring ropes, but I was helpless to do anything, but hope!

I didn't sleep for three nights. The whole time Cyclone Joy pounded the island I was clad in my bathing suit. It was the most sensible attire because I was in and out of the rain all the time - continually soaked! The pumps feeding water to the cabins and main building weren't doing their job, so I handed my guests cakes of soap; and, much to their delight, they showered under the drainpipes at the outside corner of the building...clad in their bathers, of course!

Also, I had to conserve my diesel usage for the generator because I had no idea when all the madness would be over, or when I'd be able to organise for fuel to be ferried across to my holding tank! I ran the generator for a couple of hours a day only; just long enough to make sure the status quo of the fridges and freezers remained. Candles and flashlights were used at night. My stranded guests understood the seriousness of the situation; and all, but one, settled in and made the most of the predicament; a predicament over which I, or they had no control.

There's always one amongst a crowd who doesn't want to conform, but that's another story; one I will relate another day!

Three days after Christmas I transferred my first boatload of relieved, bedraggled guests to the mainland. Around the same time, a tornado hit Mackay, whipping up the ocean again just as I was about a quarter of the way back to the mainland! Pursuant to the abrupt change in weather conditions, upon depositing my first boatload of folk, I became marooned in Seaforth. I had no other choice!

I was unable to return for my remaining guests until the next day. Eventually, and NOT without drama, I managed to get everyone safely ashore!

Torrential rain continued through to late January. Until the weather abated, there was little I could do other than snuggle up with my two furry rascals and my books! Mould grew on everything, including on me!

This, of course, is the abridged version! One day I will write a book about the experience - I have enough data to fill a novel!

Christmas Aspic: Sprinkle 1-3/4 envelopes gelatine over 1-1/4c tomato juice; on low heat stir until gelatine dissolves; chill until consistency of egg whites; add 1/4c seeded, chopped tomato, 3tbls each finely-chopped seeded cucumber, finely-chopped celery, finely-chopped capsicum, 1/2c chopped cooked prawns; gently combine. Spoon into mould (pre-coat with cooking spray); cover; chill until firm; unmould onto lettuce; top with Avocado Dressing: Process until smooth; ½ avocado, 2tbls sour cream, 2tbls yoghurt, 2tsps lime juice, and 1 small garlic clove; season.

Beetroot-Feta Mould: Place 2 trimmed bunches beetroot in saucepan with 1-litre each dry white wine and water, 65g sugar, cloves, mace, juniper berries and salt; bring to boil slowly; cover, simmer 1hr. Cool beets in liquid; strain; reserve 1-litre liquid. Peel beets and cube; process until smooth half the cubes with 500ml reserved liquid. Soak 30ml gelatine in 170ml reserved liquid until soft; dissolve over boiling water. Combine puréed beetroot with remaining reserved liquid and gelatine. Pour half into a wet loaf tin; set aside until almost set; add 125g cubed feta and cubed beetroot; pour remaining mixture over this; chill 8hrs; serve with vinaigrette.

Rhubarb-Strawberry Mould: Add 3 gelatine envelopes to 1c cold water; dissolve. Boil 2c water, zest of 1 orange and 3/4c sugar; add 1/4c lemon juice and 455g ½-inch rhubarb pieces; simmer 4mins; remove from heat; add gelatine; stir gently; pour into mould/s; add 3c sliced strawberries; cover; chill; unmould

A WORLD OF CONTRADICTION, CONFUSION AND DECEPTION

2011-12-05T15:15:00.000-08:00

Life is awash with contradictions! Constantly we’re force-fed contradictions.

On the one hand we’re told not to laugh at our own jokes; and on the other, we’re told to laugh at ourselves! We’re advised to keep a stiff upper lip; then we’re told to release our emotions!

It’s written: “the only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing”; but then our lives are spent studying, learning, observing, researching and absorbing in an effort to gain wisdom in all things! If, at the end of a life spent expending such effort nothing is achieved, why bother?

Napoleon Bonaparte advised: “The best way to keep your word is not give it”! Was he trying to confuse his enemies - as well as the men of his own forces?

Mark Twain told us to never put off until tomorrow what we can do the day after tomorrow! That would make the day after tomorrow very busy!

Who was the confused idiot who came up with this thought: “Sometimes you have to let go of the one you love to find out if there is really something there”?

It’s understandable why Confucius was named “Confucius”. He composed confused sayings! For example; “Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart”. One thing of which I’m certain; my whole heart always goes with me wherever I venture! I never leave any part of it behind! Where would I leave said piece – in the fridge; under my pillow; on the table?

Here’s another one of Confucius’ ditties (or maybe in a world of confusion he has to tote the burden for its creation): “Man who waits for roast duck to fly into mouth, must wait very, very long time”! Should that be “velly, velly wong time?

Confuse-Us also said: “A cannibal is person who likes to see other people stewed”!

Some academics have far too much time on their hands! The other day I read this report: “After much research academics found that switching to organic produce could help us live longer as well as keeping us healthier and slimmer – fruit and vegetables grown without artificial fertilizers etc., can extend one’s lifespan - by 25 days for men and 17 days for women!” My! Oh! My! That’s worth consideration!

When shopping at my local supermarket, it’s my wont to start at the greengrocery section. I’m never confused, nor am I deceived when I step into the store because, at volume, I’m greeted with: “How are you today you old bag?” I reply to that amicable, hearty salutation with; "I'm great, thanks! How're you, you old tart?" There's no confusion!

Voltaire wasn’t confused 300 or so years ago when he vehemently declared: “I hate women because they always know where everything is!”

How right he was! You’ll get no contradiction from me!

Confused Mashed “Spuds”: Cut 1 cauliflower into pieces; cook to well done; drain well; quickly pat dry; puree hot cauliflower with 1tbl softened cream cheese, 1/4c grated Parmesan, ½tsp minced garlic, pinch of salt or powdered chicken stock and pepper until almost smooth; garnish with chopped chives and butter pats.

Mediterranean Lamb Stew: Chop 500g lamb, 1 onion, 1 large red capsicum and 2 small hot chillies (or crushed chillies to taste). Heat 3tbl x-virgin olive oil in casserole; add lamb; seal; remove to bowl to keep the juices. Add more oil; fry onion 2-3mins; add capsicum and chilli; cook 4mins; season. Return lamb and juices; add 2 bay leaves and a splash of Worcestershire; add 1/3-1/2 bottle dry white wine; keep heat high; reduce wine; add 1 can chopped tomatoes; cook 6mins; reduce heat; cover, simmer 1hr. Add 1 can drained chickpeas; cook 30-45mins. Sprinkle chopped mint and crumbled feta cheese over top just before serving.

Beef Stew & Dumplings: Pat 1kg beef, cut into 1-inch pieces, dry; heat pan; add oil; brown beef in batches; set aside in bowl. Fry 3 large sliced onions and 150g sliced bacon; cook 6mins. Add 3tbls flour; cook 3mins, scraping bottom of pan; add 2c beef stock, 345ml beer, bay leaves, 1tbl brown sugar, 1 can crushed tomatoes,1/4c tomato paste, 300g button mushrooms and 1tbl Worcestershire; bring to boil; cover; cook on low heat, 1-1/2hrs. Dumplings: Combine 50g melted butter, 1 egg and 50g grated cheese; add to 100g S.R. flour, 1tsp baking powder; add a little water if needed; add some chopped parsley, or other herbs of choice, if desired; roll into 8 balls; place on top of stew 15mins before end of cooking; cover; cook 15mins or so!

I’LL PRE-EMPT BEFORE YOU LEAP TO CONCLUSIONS!

2011-12-03T18:40:00.000-08:00

I've just realised I've not written a word in here since August! I'll have to do some "pre-empting" of my own towards myself with harsh reprimands for my slackness! I do apologise...but I'm probably apologising to an invisible, absent audience because I guess I've lost all my readers! I've just rapped myself across the knuckles in punishment! And I leave you with this promise...I will attend to my blogging more frequently in the future! I've missed it, and I've missed you!

My mind often works in mysteriously weird ways! By “often” I mean it probably goes into odd mode every second second. A thought is triggered without warning or choice; usually by something obscure, inconspicuous (it doesn’t discriminate). Something grabs my attention and sets my faculties, senses, consciousness, brain, noddle, grey matter (I’ve lots of that stuff now that my hair has changed colour to match my “organ of thought”) into overdrive. My brain snaffles the fodder tossed its way. Without a backward glance, it scampers off into sometimes previously unexplored territory. Mindful that not always will a sensible outcome ensue, the potential is ever present. With that probability in mind, curiosity becomes a powerful motivator.

The word “pre-empt” instigated this current train of activity. Out of the blue, arriving without an invitation, let alone a knock on the door, the word appropriated my thoughts. I consulted my trusty, ever-present Oxford Dictionary. My Oxford wordsmith has been a trustworthy, ever-present presence in my life since my high school shenanigans. These days it’s well-worn, battered, bruised and slightly torn, showing as much wear and tear as its owner. The description of my love for it maybe concise, but my adoration has never waned. It shares desk space with my equally-loved and utilised Roget’s Thesaurus. “Thessie” (please excuse my lisp) is of similar age and appearance. Actually, “Thessie” is slightly more tattered and torn, but she still does her job admirably.

After my lengthy patter, the point I’m trying to make is how can one “pre-empt” something or someone (although many do try and frequently succeed, which is unfortunate and very annoying) when there is no such word as “empt”?

Stop! Hold the horses; shut the gates; lock the doors – don’t even dare attempt to pre-empt what I’m going to say next! “Emption” is a word, but - horror upon horror - it doesn’t appear in the Oxford Dictionary; not in my edition, anyway! It is in the Thesaurus, however.

“Emption” means – purchase; buying; purchasing; shopping; procuring; investing etc., etc., et al. All of which appear to have little to do with “pre-empt”. It does proves, though, that my Oxford Dictionary and my Roget’s Thesaurus are akin to that old song written by Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen, made popular by Frank Sinatra; “Love and marriage go together like a horse and carriage – you can’t have one without the other”.

If I’m being pre-emptive, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it! Maybe I’m being presumptuous! It’s possible to have one without the other – love and marriage that is; not my dictionary and “Thessie”!

I’m being cheesy…I know!

Tim Tam Cheesecake: Process 250g Tim Tams to fine crumbs; add 80g melted butter; blend to combine; press into spring-form pan; chill 30mins. Dissolve 3tsp gelatine in 1/4c boiling water; cool. Beat 375g cream cheese, 1/2c caster sugar and 1tsp vanilla until smooth; beat in 1c thickened cream. Stir gelatine and 200g grated white chocolate into cream cheese. Chop 100g Tim Tams; stir into mixture; pour over base; cover; chill to set.

Ricotta Cheesecake: Preheat oven 190C; place rack in centre. Spray 9-inch spring-form pan; sprinkle with flour to lightly coat sides and base. On med-speed, combine 454g ricotta, 1tsp salt, 3tbs sugar, 1tbs plain flour and 3 room-temp egg yolks for 2mins; don’t over-beat. In another bowl, at high speed whisk egg whites, approx 1-1/2mins until stiff peaks form; using spatula, gently fold through cheese mixture until blended; pour into pan; give a good tap on bench to level. Place in centre of oven rack; bake 35-40mins or until just set and doesn’t jiggle; midway into baking, turn pan to browns evenly; remove from oven; cool completely before refrigerating. Top with fresh fruit of choice.

Ginger Cheesecake: Process 250g gingernuts until fine; add 75g melted butter; mix well; press into 20x30cm slice pan; chill. Beat 500g cream cheese, 1/2c honey and 2tbs caster sugar until fluffy; beat in juice and zest of small lemon; add 3 eggs, one at a time, beating between additions; fold in 1/4c finely-chopped crystallized ginger; fold in 125ml whipped cream. Spread over base; bake in preheated 170C oven, 25mins or until just set; turn off oven; leave cheesecake in oven with door ajar; cool; chill at least 4 hours. Decorate with chopped crystallized ginger and whipped cream if the mood suits!

IF THE SPIRIT IS WILLING, THERE’S ALWAYS A GHOST OF A CHANCE

2011-08-21T14:21:00.000-07:00

There are a couple of spirits lurking around my home. They’ve haunted my place for a while! I tend not to worry about them, though. In fact, most of the time I ignore them. I’ve lost interest. Hence, I forget their presence. To be honest, it’s ages since I’ve given them my attention. They remain contained. They don’t bother me, so I don’t disturb them. However, the bottles are gathering dust from disuse (not misuse) over the years!

Talking about spirits, when I arrived on Hinchinbrook Island the existing staff descended, impatient to relate their stories about the escapades of the island’s resident ghost! For the faint of heart the tales they regaled would’ve caused many to swoon (or run for the hills), but I found the stories to be intriguing, if not a little humorous! The hairs didn’t stand up on the back of my neck when I learned of the ghost’s frolics. Not being a Hirsutism sufferer, I’ve very few hairs there, anyway! Perhaps my lack of wariness (not hairiness) was because I’d fallen under the mesmerising spell of the island the moment I’d set foot on it.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, but immediately upon my arrival, I referred to the island as “she” or “her” as one does a ship. I felt a kindred spirit with the island. In my moments of peaceful solitude I conducted quiet, one-sided conversations, telling “her” everything would now be all right because I was there. I know it sounds weird, and it probably was, but it was how I felt about my new home. I believed if, in fact, there was an island ghost, the reason it had been disturbed and active prior to my arrival was that all who went before me erroneously referred to the island and the spirit as being male. If, indeed, such a ghost existed, I believed it to be female!

For what it’s worth, during my tenure on Hinchinbrook no further ghostly. unexplainable episodes occurred. Lots of spirits in bottles rattled about, though!

To put lie to my previous statement of not being a “sufferer of Hirsutism”, every time I visited Fraser Island, which once was often, (each time staying for a week or longer) the hairs on the back of my neck stood upright! They grew especially for those visits, I’m sure! I know thousands love Fraser Island. I’m not one of them. For reasons unknown, the island spooks me. I ceased visiting Fraser because of how it made me feel. Poona, a sleepy seaside village on the mainland adjacent to the southern tip of Fraser causes similar reactions within me; as do areas along Marlborough Road, between Rocky and Sarina - strange, but true!

Cue the theme music of “The X-Files” or “Ghostbusters”! Don’t give up the ghost!

Spirited Steak: Combine 1/3c Scotch whisky, 1/4c brown sugar, 1/3c soy sauce, 2tbls Dijon mustard, 1tsp Worcestershire sauce, 1 finely-chopped onion and 1 crushed garlic clove. Place 4 sirloin steaks/rump/scotch fillets in marinade; refrigerate overnight. Bring to room temp; remove from marinade; grill as desired.

Jamaican Chicken: Combine 1/2c dark rum, 2tbls lime or lemon juice, 2tbls soy sauce, 2tbls brown sugar, 4 minced garlic cloves, 1-2 hot chillies, seeded, minced, 1tbl minced fresh ginger, 1tsp thyme, 1/2tsp black pepper. Put 6 boned, skinless chicken breast halves in bowl with marinade; coat well. Refrigerate overnight. Drain chicken; reserve marinade. Place chicken on grill, uncovered, over med-hot, 6mins per side or until cooked. Bring reserved marinade to boil in saucepan; boil until reduced by half; serve chicken drizzled with marinade.

Penne alla Vodka: Process 2 un-drained cans tomatoes until just finely chopped; don’t over-process. Heat 1/4c cup x-virgin olive oil in pan; add 10 garlic cloves, smashed with flat of knife blade; cook 3mins; add tomatoes; bring to boil; add 1 crushed hot chilli (or to taste); boil, 2mins. Add 1/4-1/2c vodka; simmer 7mins. Remove garlic; add 1/2c cream; add 2tbl butter; season; add 500g cooked penne to sauce; allow sauce to thicken; toss in 3/4c parmesan; serve sprinkled with parsley and parmesan.

Ghost in the Graveyard: Combine 1/4c black vodka, 1/4c crème de cacao; set aside; place scoop vanilla ice cream in highball glass; slowly pour over liquor; garnish with nutmeg!

2011-05-02T17:51:00.000-07:00

Luckily, Easter was an extra long weekend - five days with Anzac Day at the tail-end of it - allowing me time to complete the finishing touches to my outfit and find coordinating shoes, hat and handbag before shuffling off, not to Buffalo, but to the London wedding!

Much time was spent on my ensemble because I didn’t want to clash with Julia or Quentin (respectively our Prime Minister and Governor-General), and I certainly did not want to clash with Eugene or Beatrice!

I stayed well clear of those two; fearful Beatrice was emitting radio rays, microwave rays, gamma rays, ultra-violet or X-rays, stingrays, even, from the weird antennae upon her head! Obviously someone mischievously told her it was a hat!

With only minutes to spare, I ripped off my Easter Bunny outfit, pulled on my trackie daks, hoodie and uggs and jumped on a jet to the land of the Union Jack.

Generously, Liz and Phil found a spare room in their palace to house me for a couple of days! Granted it was a turret up where the snipers held vigil, but that was all right; it didn’t rain and I felt protected!

I managed to sneak into all the parties; the one hosted by dear Lilibet; the one tossed by Chuck and Cammie; followed by the all-nighter; and then I finished off by staggering into the recovery breakfast hosted by Harry!

My flowing adrenalin didn’t allow room for exhaustion. Tiredness was placed on the back burner because immediately upon putting my footing back on Aussie turf, I raced off to the Logies! (Aussie TV awards to the uninitiated)! The well-positioned Labor Day weekend helped to squeeze it all in!

Life is never dull!

All joking aside, the union of William and his beautiful Kate was a spectacle to behold! Will was resplendent in his scarlet tunic of the Irish Guard. Kate dazzled in her stunning, understated, stylishly gown; Pippa almost (operative word “almost”) eclipsed in her exquisite, slim-fitting creation. The cute flower girls and pages completed the picturesque picture.

Who else in this world could command such worldwide interest and attention? No one! There’s not a celebrity, sportsperson, nor politician who could draw such a crowd! The whole event was expertly orchestrated and controlled. The police, like a thousand sheep dogs were awesome in their control of the massive crowd converging upon the palace eager to greet the young couple upon their balcony appearance; a crowd hungry for the vision of the young couple's first public kiss as husband and wife.

The royals magically managed to allow billions across the world to participate in a family occasion. Amongst the pomp and ceremony there was an innate sense of intimacy. It’s proof to all that the Free Western World is alive and well!

It’s now time for some R and R after Britainna Ruled the day!

And I'm not even a Royalist (I'm not a Republican, either - it's pretty comfortable here on the fence)!!!

But let's face it...they really did capture our imagination! There is no denying!

Right Royal Rosemary Crown Roast: Combine 3/4c warmed quince or fig jam, 2 finely-chopped garlic cloves, 1/4c white wine; season. Grab 2 lamb racks, rib ends Frenched, tied into crown; brush with jam mixture; don’t get it on the bones. Place crown in roasting pan; insert long branches of fresh rosemary in centre of roast at regular intervals; fold branches over top and down outside; slip under roast to hold in place; pour remaining sauce in centre of crown; refrigerate 4hrs. Roast in preheated 200C oven, 25-30mins for med-rare. Rest crown 10mins; serve.

Ricotta Ravioli: Pile 3-1/2c plain flour on bench-top; make crater; add 4 eggs to centre; partially incorporate flour into eggs with a fork; then knead to form dough, 4-5mins. Set aside, covered. Cook 450g spinach in salted boiling water until tender; remove from water; cool; drain well; chop roughly. Combine with 450g ricotta, 1 egg, 2tbls cream, roasted pine-nuts or chopped walnuts and 4tbls grated Parmesan; season with nutmeg, salt and pepper. Assemble: cut dough into 4 pieces; roll each to 1/8-inch thickness; place 1 spoonful filling onto 1 sheet, ½-inch from edge; continue placing filling along dough 1-inch from each other; place other pieces of dough on top; pinch dough around filling to form ravioli, expending air; cut out raviolis; pinch edges with fork tines; set aside on floured plate; don’t pile on top of each other. Add raviolis to boiling water; when they float, they’re cooked. Sauce: melt 125g butter; add 1/4tsp nutmeg, a dash of lemon juice and 1tbl chopped sage; simmer 1min. Just before serving sprinkle freshly grated Parmesan over top.

Royale Coffee: Add 2/3c black coffee and 2tbls cognac to Irish coffee cup; sweeten to taste; gently float whipped cream on top; sprinkle with grated chocolate.

WEDDINGS! INDULGENT FANFARES! THE WHOLE CATASTROPHE

2011-04-27T15:21:00.000-07:00

Whether a Monarchist or a bearer of the Republican flag, it matters little when it comes to a royal wedding.

It seems like only yesterday that we watched in awe as Charles and Di tied the knot (although many cringed, me included, at Diana's over-the-top, all-engulfing monstrosity of a gown). I guess we forgave Diana for that choice as she was only 19 years of age at the time...such an innocent child, really, thrown into a den of lions!

In the ensuing years Princess Diana stole our hearts with her stylish beauty and generosity of spirit. Those same hearts were broken by her untimely death. Transfixed in front of our television screens, our tears flowed as we reluctantly and sorrowfully bade her farewell to the haunting strains of “Candle in the Wind”.

We’ve watched her two sons grow and blossom into young men of whom she would have been very proud.

The years have flown by; once more we’ll sit in wonderment as we witness Wills and his lovely young bride, Kate walk down the aisle. Let’s hope everything goes smoothly for them on their special day with no disruptions from the radical idiots of this world!

Funny things, weddings - they’re capable of fracturing the most cynical of hearts! Personally, I’ve never been one for the ostentatious pomp, fuss and ado, or for the excess expenditure, or the frilly, fussy, frou-frou gowns.

In the four years before moving to this hilltop I was the chef at a restaurant-function house wherein weddings were major weekend activities! (And I continued this practice for some time after relocating to my present address, before coming to my senses!!!)

During those four years barely a weekend passed without a wedding reception being the main event on my catering agenda. There were times, too, that I had to feed the madding wedding crowds of more than one celebration on a weekend. Much to my annoyance, I even had to show up for one such performance on the millennium - 1st January, 2000! Ouch! That one hurt!

I’ve lost count of how many weddings I’ve catered for over the years. Some are more memorable than others; some unforgettable, but not in a good way! On one occasion two over-zealous, bossy (think “arrogant”) bridesmaids prefaced the ceremony by insisting on dancing (?) down the garden path that led to the arbor! I still shake my head when recalling that apparition! And this was performed long before the current rush of wedding party members cavorting down the aisles that we are seeing on YouTube etc., these days!

Many couples chose to conduct their ceremony beneath the jasmine-clad arbor set romantically amongst the beautifully-manicured garden; its lavish green lawns embraced the banks of Gympie's Mary River in the background.

As in all things - each to their own – but I’m the “less is more” kind when it comes to weddings. However, it goes without saying really, if you’re looking for me on the 29th April, you’ll know where to find me!

Now - where did I leave my trumpet?

Smoked Salmon Boats: Combine 150g smoked salmon,chopped, 150g mascarpone and 1/2tsp chopped dill; season with lemon juice and ground pepper; spoon into pastry boats. Garnish with strips of smoked salmon and dill or capers.

Pastry Boats: Process 185g plain flour and 90g butter with pinch salt until resembles breadcrumbs. With motor running, add 1 egg yolk and about 1tbl iced water to make dough. Turn onto floured surface; knead lightly until smooth; wrap; chill 10mins. Roll out 3mm thick between 2 sheets greaseproof paper. Remove paper; place pastry over lightly-buttered boat moulds; cut excess pastry away; prick bases; place on tray; bake at 190C, 10-12mins.

Avocado-Oyster Boats: Mash 1 avocado; season with lemon juice, salt and ground pepper; spoon into pastry boats; top each with an oyster. Sprinkle with finely-chopped chilli and coriander.

Prawn Bloody Mary: Drizzle 15 large prawns with 1tbl olive oil; season; place on baking sheet; roast in preheated 200C oven, 6-8mins, turn once; cool. Sauce: combine juice 1 lemon, 1 can pureed tomatoes, 2tbls horseradish, 2tbls Worcestershire sauce, 2tsp Tabasco, 1/2c ice-cold vodka, salt and ground pepper. Serve; put tablespoon sauce in ceramic Chinese serving spoons; top with a prawn and julienned celery stick.

Brie Puffs: Preheat oven 200C. Cut 1 sheet puff pastry into 16 squares; put squares into cups of mini muffin tins; prick bases; bake until puffed and golden; cool. Whip together using beater, 240g brie, 1/4c cream and 1tbl honey until fluffy; put in piping bag with star tip; pipe mixture onto pastry cups; drizzle with little honey; serve at room temperature.

IN YOUR EASTER BONNET WITH ALL THE FRILLS UPON IT!

2011-04-19T13:56:00.000-07:00

Please don’t tell me you’ve put rabbit on your Easter menu! The chocolate variety is permitted, of course! My Lindt bunny remains unsullied in my fridge, his safe haven for the past three years. He’s pretty chilled knowing he’ll live out his days unmolested! I’ve not the heart to upset his apple cart!

Once upon a time when I was young and carefree it was a given that Easter weekends were spent at the coast. My friends and I high-tailed it at the end of work on Easter Thursdays armed and ready for sun-blessed, fun-filled days and Record Hops that went all night long! Between sunbathing/baking and wave-catching we managed to squeeze in a little sleep!

I’ve enjoyed wonderful Easters; some more interesting than others!

One Easter on Newry Island brought not only boatloads of guests, but also a koala! Unperturbed by the holidaymakers, he sleepily set up camp in a tree fork at the start of the track that crossed the island.

Back in the early Eighties I spent an Easter in Biggenden -

(Biggenden is a town situated on the Isis Highway in southern Queensland, Australia, 339 km north-west of the state capital Brisbane, and 84 km west of Maryborough. At the 2006 census, Biggenden had a population of 644.

Primary production is the most significant industry in the Shire with beef and dairy cattle being predominant. Other agricultural pursuits include grain crops, piggeries, peanuts, citrus and timber. The area is also rich in minerals. Biggenden Mine is located eight kilometres out of town off Ban Ban Springs Road. Gold, bismuth and more recently magnetite have been extracted from the mine. The township is also close to Coalstoun Lakes National Park and Mount Walsh National Park.

Biggenden was founded in 1889 as a service centre to the short-lived goldrush towns of Paradise and Shamrock; and for coach passengers travelling west from Maryborough. The township, including the intriguingly named Live And Let Live Inn, moved to a new location alongside the railway station when the rail line arrived in 1891.

Opting for a tree change, friends sold their Peregian Beach business. Executing a 180 degree turn, they became country publicans after purchasing the last standing pub in Biggenden;(as per pic above) the town’s other pub burned to the ground shortly before their arrival! Within weeks, their cook unexpectedly abandoned them. Left stranded, they called upon my services to assist in the interim; the “interim” expanded to four weeks!

Eager to take the bull by the horns, I grabbed the opportunity, thinking it’d be for a few days at most. I had a ball in Biggenden, and had no regrets about my extended stay!

ANZAC Day fell during my tenure. With breakfast completed, lunch preparations under control and apron discarded, into the main street of Biggenden I raced to watch the parade. To my dismay, I was the lone spectator with not another in sight! The marchers generously showed their gratitude by rewarding my attendance with their bright smiles. I reciprocated with applause!

Another year, when driving north from Townsville I managed to get caught in the middle of Ingham’s ANZAC parade!

During Easter and ANZAC Day, let’s not forget their true meanings. As we enjoy family gatherings and other pleasures let’s take time to reflect upon those who’ve suffered this year at the destructive hands of Mother Nature, both here and overseas. Let’s also not forget the men and women of our Armed Forces, present and past.

And as “Thumper’s” mother sagely advised: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say ‘nothing’ at all!” She was one positive bunny even if she did believe in double negatives! Have a safe and Happy Easter, everyone!

Easter Brunch Eggs: Preheat oven 200C; line tray with baking paper. Cook diced bacon until crisp; drain. Slice end off tomatoes; scoop out flesh. Place 1tsp butter inside; bake 3mins; place bacon in each tomato; crack 1 egg into each; sprinkle 1tbls grated cheese over each egg; return to oven approx 10mins.

Baked Eggs & Bacon: Liberally grease ramekins with butter; place 6 quartered cherry tomatoes in ramekins; season lightly. Sprinkle grated sharp cheese on tomatoes; break 2 eggs into each ramekin; sprinkle over chopped parsley and herbs of choice; drizzle 2tbls cream over eggs; top with grated cheese and crisp, chopped bacon; bake at 175C, 20-25mins.

Easter Lamb: Grab 2 boned lamb breasts; lay breasts, skin side down, on work surface; cut in half lengthways. Preheat oven 220C. Stuffing: cook 1 chopped onion, crushed garlic, 1tsp thyme, 1tsp chopped rosemary in 2tbls olive oil, 4mins. Transfer to bowl; add 100g lamb mince and 100g fresh white breadcrumbs; season; mix well; spoon stuffing down centre of 2 breast halves; lay other halves on top of the stuffed halves; tie with string at 4cm intervals to make 2 sausage shapes; season; place in oven tray; roast 20mins; lower temp to 180C; cook 1-1/2hours; rest 15mins before carving.

Bunny Hop: Combine 2tsp cherry liqueur, 1tsp choc syrup, 40ml dark Crème de Cacao, 10ml vodka; add crushed ice; garnish with mint leaves.

PADDY, MULLIGAN, GUINNESS AND “COL CANNON’S” PARTY DAY!

2011-03-14T15:15:00.000-07:00

17th March.....

St. Patrick’s Day was first observed in Boston in 1737 by Irish immigrants, not in Ireland as one would imagine!

Paddy was too busy ridding Ireland of snakes to party! His thoughtless actions impress me not, to be sure! Not having the good manners to ask us if we wanted them, he expelled all the Emerald Isle’s snakes to our shores! It isn’t what I’d call a saintly act! Erroneously Patrick gave no thought to his careless tactic - extremely antagonistic! You can’t even blame the Irish sense of humour for such an antic! Patrick wasn’t Irish! Therein folks the problem does recline!

Paddy, prove your goodwill is genuine! A favour is owed! Come on Down Under, Paddy! Repeat the deed once again, but in reverse this time! Paddy, me lad! Another miracle is overdue!

I’ll even throw a barbecue! Not at you (although I should), but in your honour! It’ll be on the house - well, on the verandah! I dislike heights almost as much as I abhor snakes!

The Irish were slow off the mark in giving you a party, Paddy! It surely was a long time between drinks from the 400s until 1737! This surprises me! Such a lengthy delay is out of character for the Irish!

Not to Harp on it, but perhaps Jameson Whiskey had to come of age first! Couldn’t Cooper find enough trees to lop to make the barrels? Was old Guinness so stout he needed to trim down before celebrations could begin? Maybe Mulligan was too busy practicing his golf swing (golfers will understand), or “Col Cannon” was too engrossed in pickling his cabbage and shallots in cream before tossing in dollops of butter at completion to consider wasting his energy on frivolous pastimes? Whatever the reasons, the Irish worldwide (and those who become Irish for this one day of the year) have since made up for the lack of celebrations prior to those conceived by the Bostonian-Irish who swilled swags of Smithwick’s and kicked up their heels in an inaugural jig!

One day celebrating old Paddy I added green mashed potatoes to the restaurant menu. When presented with his meal an excited little boy’s eyes lit up like beacons. Upon taking his first mouthful, his eyes sprung open in shocked horror! His naïve expectations were crushed by one foul morsel! He’d thought it was lime ice-cream, the poor misguided little tyke!

It was his introduction to life’s disappointments! He had to start somewhere! Happy to oblige!

Never iron a four-leaf clover; you don’t want to press your luck!

Back-To-Front Irish Beef Kebabs: Cut 1kg beef into cubes; heat oil in pan; add beef; add 2 tbls plain flour, 20 whole garlic cloves, salt and pepper. Add onions, cut into eighths. Cook until onions are translucent and beef browned. Add 1 can of Guinness and 2tbls tomato puree. Place in 175C oven, 15mins or so. Skewer cooked beef, onions and garlic. Serve with Green Goddess dressing/dip – blend 1/2c mayo, 1/2c sour cream, 1/4c chopped shallots, 2tbl chopped chives, 2tbls chopped parsley, 1tbl anchovy paste, 1tbl lemon juice, salt and pepper.

Cabbage Nests: Boil whole cabbage leaves until just limp; remove; dip into cold water; dry. Prepare mashed spuds; add cooked, crisp bacon pieces, crushed garlic, grated cheese and chopped shallots. Line muffin tin with cupcake liners; spray with oil; wrap cabbage inside liners to form a nest; cut smaller piece of cabbage; lay on bottom of liner; add mashed spuds; sprinkle with grated cheese. Bake at 175C until crispy.

Guinness Honey-Glazed Pork: Put 300ml Guinness, 100ml honey and 250g brown sugar in pan; reduce to almost half to a syrupy glaze; cool. Season 2kg skinless, boneless loin pork; roast 20mins at 180C; reduce heat 140C. Remove pork from oven; brush with most of the glaze; cook 40-50mins; baste. Remove from oven; rest. Pour remaining glaze into pan; add splash of white wine or water; boil; simmer 4-5mins. Serve pork slices on colcannon; top with syrup.

Irish Eyes: Shake with ice, 30ml Irish Whiskey, 10ml Crème de Menthe, 60ml cream; garnish with Maraschino cherries. The Shamrock: Mix ½ shot Irish whiskey, 1 shot of Vermouth, 3 dashes each Crème de Menthe and Green Chartreuse.

BEAUTY IS.....

2011-02-22T13:31:00.000-08:00

There are some who leave an indelible impression upon us; others come and go leaving not even a shadow.

One day when living on Newry Island I had the good fortune to share time with a lovely lady. She’d come to the island for a day trip along with her granddaughter and her friends; the latter group intent on hiking across the island. Not up to the arduous task the young folk had in mind the lady asked if she could just sit quietly while they exhausted their youthful energy. Dropping tools, I decided to join my unexpected, dignified guest.

Sitting at an outdoor table, we chatted over a pot of tea, our view being picture-perfect sylvan islands loitering on a viridescent ocean like irresistible sirens. A cornflower blue sky interrupted by feather-like wistful clouds caressing the far horizon played host to a radiant tangerine sun. A courteous sea breeze barely disturbed the she-oaks and palms guarding the foreshore.

My intriguing elderly guest told me of her life in Papua New Guinea as a young married woman shortly after the Second World War. Alone into an undeveloped, mysterious land she ventured to join her husband who had already been living there a few months ahead of her arrival. By light aircraft she’d flown; a sole passenger into the highlands of PNG. Set down in a clearing in the midst of the dense tropical jungle she was left to her own devices to find her way to where her husband was posted. It has slipped my mind how it came about she had to make that unknown journey alone, but alone she did conquer the hazardous trek to the waiting arms of her young husband.

Enthralled by the charming woman sitting across from me, and engrossed in her fascinating narrative, I listened in captivated silence. Moments passed with no words exchanged. We’d become lost within our own thoughts. Like a soothing lullaby, the measured lapping of the ocean upon the shore settled us into a sense of peaceful harmony.

Contemplatively the lady interrupted our reverie. “We effortlessly grow weary of all this, you know,” she said, alerting my attention. “We complacently take for granted the beauty,” she continued, sweeping her arms across the vista before us. “It’s of no consequence. It’s unseen, unappreciated. It’s invisible. Our eyes are blind to it; our mind, unreceptive. We get on with our lives ignorant of what’s occurred. Beauty surrounds us, but we no longer recognise it. We underestimate its value. We must be wary! Like many things…we only appreciate their worth after they’re gone.”

Filet de Boeuf Beaujolais: Trim 6x5cm-thick beef fillets. Sauce: Melt 2tsps butter; sauté 1tsp finely-chopped eschallots until golden; add ground pepper, ½ bay leaf, 1 sprig thyme and 200ml Beaujolais/shiraz; boil; reduce rapidly to 2tbls; add 200ml demi-glace; cook over low heat 15mins; strain. Off heat, beat in 30g butter; gently mix in 60g fresh beef marrow; set aside in warm place. Fillets: Melt 2tbls butter and 1tbl olive oil in heavy pan; quickly sauté fillets on both sides; sprinkle with salt and pepper as you cook it as desired. Place fillets on warm plates; spoon sauce into pan, whisk in 50g butter; pour over meat; arrange a slice of marrow (or slice of garlic-parsley butter) on each fillet; sprinkle with chopped parsley.

Orange-Blueberry Dessert: Peel 4 navel oranges; remove pith; cut rind into strips; reserve; slice oranges horizontally. Make syrup by bringing 100ml water and 100g sugar to boil; add 90ml cassis; boil 2mins; cool. Pour half the syrup over orange slices and half over 1 punnet blueberries; refrigerate several hours. Blanch orange rind 3 times, change water each time. Make second syrup with 200ml water and 200g sugar; boil; add 50ml cassis; add blanched rind to boiling syrup; simmer until rind is translucent red and has candied, about 20mins. Remove rind; cool syrup; store rind in cooled syrup until ready to use. Assemble macerated fruit on plates with spoonfuls of syrup; garnish with candied peel and spoonfuls of sweetened mascarpone on the side.

CORRUPTION IN A D-CUP! IT’S NOT AN UPLIFTING TALE!

2011-01-09T12:45:00.000-08:00

Trisha Reschke - Miss Australia 1962

Before Germaine Greer who, with one foul, targeted stroke castrated the male population; before burning bras became a misguided habit; before political correctness extended beyond extreme; when we still espied our “p’s” and “q’s”, dotted our “i’s”, crossed our ‘t’s” and never dreamed of dropping the “g” when saying “going” or “mowing”; when we respected our elders and those in authority; before “MasterChef”; there was a charitable national Quest known as “The Miss Australia Quest”. The Quest ran from 1908 to 2000.

In 1953, Bernard Dowd, chief of Hickory Lingerie, respected maker of bras (how germane, Germaine) and other ladies’ intimate apparel brought new style and verve to the competition. Dowd’s vision was to couple the fundraising efforts to the Australian Cerebral Palsy Association. Between 1954 and 2000 more than $90m was raised by the Miss Australia Quest for the Association. In 1963, three friends and I were approached to enter the Quest to represent the Gympie area. We felt proud to participate and had much fun raising funds.

A chaperone tutored entrants on etiquette, make-up, fashion, public speaking and general public behaviour. Ironically, amongst the gifts presented to each of us upon entering the Quest was a carton on “Country Life” cigarettes! How times have changed!

Deviously, political correctness bared its teeth and flexed its muscles in 1991 when Miss Australia was officially “crowned” for the last time. The Miss Australia Quest was renamed the Miss Australia “Awards”. And then, not wanting to miss out on the enjoyment, the male population began a merry jig! Debate over their inclusion caused dissent and uplifted eyebrows in 1993! Following a few petulant tantrums, the men got their way! One of their gang raised the most money in 1997, but the crown wasn’t elevated above his “short, back and sides” cranium. In lieu, he only received a fundraising title. No Hickory Shaper Control briefs or underwire bras for him!

The annual financial cost of cerebral palsy (CP) in Australia is over $1.5billion.

The Miss Australia Quest was a viable, dignified method of raising funds for CP.

Simultaneously, it raised public awareness. However, the selfish, short-sighted politically-correct mob and the feminist bra-burning brigade joined forces causing an unnecessary, piteous storm in a D-cup - and the end of the Quest!

Hickory Dickory Dock – stupidity is a crock!

Lettuce Cups with Pork Croquettes: Salsa: Combine 3 diced tomatoes, ½ diced mango, 1/2c diced Lebanese cucumber, 1c chopped parsley, 1-½ capsicums, diced, juice of ½ lemon, 2tbls x-virgin olive oil, ½ red onion, diced, 1tsp sugar, salt, pepper; refrigerate. Croquettes: Combine 150g minced pork, 80g diced chives, 3 chopped water chestnuts, 1tbl chopped bok choy and 3 lightly-beaten eggs. Marinate 30mins; heat oil in pan; take 1tbl of mixture, fry until golden. Place salsa in lettuce cups; add a croquette to each; use your hands!

5-Cup Fruit Cup: Combine 1c each drained fruit cocktail, mandarin segments and pineapple pieces; fold in 1c sour cream and 1/2c shredded coconut; chill; add 1c mini marshmallows before serving.

Cake in a Cup: To a coffee mug add 4tbls plain flour, 4tbls sugar and 2tbls cocoa; mix well; add 1 egg; mix thoroughly; add 3tbls milk and 3tbls oil or apple sauce; mix well; add 3tbl chocolate chips and a dash of vanilla; mix again. Place in microwave - 3mins at 1000W. Cake will rise over top of mug.

Choc-Chilli Cupcakes: Sift 100g S.R flour, 50g cocoa, 1tsp chilli powder, 1/2ts baking powder, 1tsp cinnamon, 1/2tsp each cardamom and nutmeg and pinch of salt. Combine 2 eggs with 2tbls strong black coffee and vanilla. Cream 100g butter and 100g sugar; blend in egg mix; fold through the dry ingredients. Add 2tbls milk if needed to make a soft texture. Put 12 cupcake wrappers on a tray; drop mixture into each one. Bake 12-15mins, 180C. Icing: Beat 1/4c butter with 240g cream cheese; add 55g melted dark chocolate, pinch of salt, icing sugar, some cream and vanilla; beat until smooth.

COUNTING DOWN! A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS AND AN EXTRAORDINARLY HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL!!

2010-12-21T15:37:00.000-08:00

Please tell me I’m dreaming! It can’t be THAT time of the year again! Surely not, Shirley! We’ve not had Easter yet, have we? Didn’t we just celebrate New Year’s Eve? I must have slept through my alarm! Does this mean I have to start planning my Christmas fare - again?

“Fare” - a word of various meanings, one of which describes what awaits us just around the corner following a few more sleeps! How come one little word is allowed many meanings? Is that fair? I might charge a fare for a place at my Christmas table, and then I’ll fare well. Will you feel it’s fair if you have to pay a fare to share my festive fare? I have to find a way to pay for the appetising fare, somehow! It’ll be a grand affair, I promise! Charging a fare may not fare well with you, however, if that be the case, I bid you farewell!

I believe I’m offering a fair deal! All’s fair in the fare game, or all fare is fair game!

My Christmas cake is already made. For the past few weeks I’ve pretended that it’s not sitting just over there on my table, its deliciously rich aroma torments me, say and night. It beckons me wickedly when I pass by! Desperately I’m trying to ignore its siren call, and not succumb to temptation. Unconsciously, my hand reaches out for the nearest knife, but I have to sit on it (my hand, not the knife) to stop me from attacking the cake! Oh! Willpower, do not forsake me just yet!

Already the licorice allsorts I bought have gone by the way of all delicious licorice allsorts! They just don’t keep these days, do they? I have to buy more, but I’ll leave that chore until Christmas Eve - to be on the safe side! It’s a sticky situation when I can’t trust myself!

I bought a pair of blinkers to wear each time I venture into IGA between now and Christmas! They were on sale after Melbourne Cup Day! If you run into me at the supermarket and I start neighing, just give me a nudge or a whack on the rump!

No matter how often I tell myself that I’m not going to go overboard on the fabulous fare on offer, my resolve dissolves when I spy the exquisite goodies - hence the need for blinkers!

Fare thee well my co-conspirators! Sweet dreams until Santa's visit - the countdown has begun!

Barbecued Mud Crab: Cut 2x1kg mud crabs into four; crack claws; place quarters in air-tight container with 190ml olive oil, 70ml lemon juice, 4 crushed garlic cloves, 1 sliced red onion, 1tsp chilli flakes, sea salt and freshly-ground pepper; toss to combine; cover. Marinate in fridge 1hr; toss occasionally. Heat barbecue to med-high; cook crab 10-15mins; turn regularly. When cooked sprinkle with lemon-salt: Combine 1tbl sea salt with 1tbl finely-grated lemon zest.

Seafood Salad: Remove and discard heads of 250g baby octopus; rinse well the rest of the baby octopus in saucepan over med-heat briefly. Bring 3/4c white wine to boil with 9 peppercorns and 6 parsley sprigs; add octopus; cook 1-2mins; add 300g peeled green prawns, tails intact and 10 scallops; cook 2-3mins. Remove seafood from liquid; cool in bowl; reserve liquid. Toss 12 oysters through seafood; drizzle with lemon juice, olive oil and 1-2tsp reserved liquid; serve with garlic-rubbed grilled sourdough.

Baked Pickled Pork: Ask your friendly butcher politely to pickle a 3kg rolled joint or leg of pork (give him a few days notice - it’s a cheaper substitute for ham). Put pork into pot with 2 onions, 2 celery stalks, 2 carrots, peppercorns, cloves; add a mixture of water, vinegar and dry mustard just to cover pork; cover pot; bake in 170C oven – 3 hours; turn after 1-1/2hrs. Cool in liquid 1hr; transfer to bowl; put greaseproof paper on top, then a weighted plate; chill until next day.

Walnut Ginger Shortbread: Preheat oven 135C. Cream 340g butter and 150g sugar until pale; add 420g plain flour, pinch salt, 150g very finely-chopped crystallised ginger and 200g very finely-chopped walnuts; mix until just combined; don’t overwork. Roll out to 4mm thick on lightly-floured surface; cut into shapes; place on lined baking trays; bake 15mins; cook without colouring; cool on racks.

Mango Daiquiri: Put 50ml white rum, 2tbs sugar syrup, juice of ½ lime and 2 pureed mango cheeks into shaker with crushed ice; shake well; strain into tall glass.

A BIRD IN THE HAND, ETC., ETC!

2010-12-08T14:23:00.000-08:00

All the discussion, dissertation, commentary, criticism and banter presently going back, forth,lengthways and sideways over males wearing “budgie smugglers” are downright trite, a mite righteous and quite annoying!

If such arguments arose when I was a teenager, they were easily solved! My girlfriends and I just wouldn’t talk to or mix with guys who didn’t wear Speedos on the beach! It was as simple as that – no discourse necessary! Fellows who didn’t sport “budgie smugglers” we ignored. They were minor blimps on the horizon! Our interest lay elsewhere.

Obviously it meant they weren’t lifesavers, and therefore not worthy of our undivided attention. Such a fellow was of a different breed. He was the one portrayed as the “Before” in the Charles Atlas Exercise Programme advertisements!

When we frolicked along the golden beaches of Mooloolaba, Alexandra Headlands and Noosa Heads in our “itsy-bitsy, teeny weeny yellow polka-dot bikinis”; when we body-surfed while counting in wait to hitch a ride on the seventh wave, we knew our safety was in the capable hands of the lifesavers, all of whom confidently wore the now unfairly much-maligned “budgie smugglers”! The bronzed lifesavers were not only our heroes, but our friends, as well!

My brother was a Noosa lifesaver, as was my first husband. Both wore their “budgie smugglers” proudly and unashamedly, as did their fellow club members. None of them would be seen dead catching a wave, rowing the surf boat or parading in a March Past in anything less, or anything more!

Sure…such attire didn’t allow room for a packed lunch or wallet storage, but the Surf Club and the pub upon the hill offered meals, and surfing was no charge!

“Budgie smugglers” were first designed in 1960, and were a hit immediately. They are a functional garment, and shouldn’t be turned into something controversial or embarrassing, nor should they be feared!

Naturally, it goes without saying that there are some bodies that should never be allowed out on public display wearing “budgie smugglers”! Cast your eyes sideways, look upwards to the heavens, or run for cover if it’s your bad luck to stumble across such frightening, tasteless spectres!

Heavenly Quail: Crush 1tbl coriander root, 5 whole white peppercorns and 2 garlic cloves in a mortar & pestle; add 4tbls palm sugar and 3tbls soy sauce; transfer to plate. Lightly crush 2tbls coriander seeds. Open 2 quail along spine; leave legs and wings intact; take out rib cage bones. Rub coriander root mix over quail. Press quail into soy mixture. Crust quail with crushed coriander seeds; rest in fridge for 3hrs.Deep fry quail 5mins. Cut in half.

Place on plate; serve with Sauce: Finely chop 1 small chilli, 20 basil leaves, 1 garlic clove and ½ bunch coriander leaves; add juice of 1 lime and a little peanut oil.

Apricot Quail: Sauce: Heat 1/2c apricot jam, 1/4c finely-chopped dried apricots, 1/4c dry white wine, 1tbls honey and 1tsp Worcestershire sauce over low heat; stir until jam melts; set aside. Heat oven - 200C. Wrap a bacon rasher around each of 6 quails; place, breast side up, an1-inch apart on rack in roasting pan; roast, uncovered 30mins.

Brush generously with sauce; roast a further 15-20mins. Serve quail with remaining heated sauce.

Lemon-Roasted Quail: Cu down backbone only of 3 quail and “spread-eagle” the bird. Marinade: Combine 1/2tsp salt, 1/2tsp cracked pepper, 1tsp tamarind sauce, 1/2tsp fish sauce, 2tsp peanut oil, 1tsp honey or maple syrup, 2 crushed garlic cloves, 1 finely-chopped spring onion and 1 stalk lemongrass, finely-chopped.

Rub quail inside and out with marinade; refrigerate 24-30hrs. Bring to room temperature before cooking. Preheat oven 180C. Place par-boiled potato segments into roasting pan with some oil; don’t season; put in oven. Heat frying pan; add a little butter and oil; heat until smoky; place quail in pan one at a time, skin side up; brown 1min either side; transfer quails to the roasting pan holding the potato segments; cook in oven 20-25mins.

Rest quail 10-15mins. Serve with potato wedges, steamed Asian greens and lemon wedges.

"F" IS FOR EFFORT!

2010-11-06T17:37:00.002-07:00

Effort: noun. Strenuous exertion: display of power: something accomplished involving concentration or special activity.

Frequently on rainy, frosty mornings snuggled warmly in bed under my feather doona, I forestall rising. I have to exert an excessive effort to extract myself from its fold!

I have a weakness – “Only one!” I hear you declare flabbergasted! At times I flounder at holding my tongue. I fail to bite it or foreclose its flourish when in the presence of some folk. In my favour, most times I force myself to grin and bear it!

I do experience embarrassing times when it’s an effort to keep a straight face! It happens at the most inappropriate times and places! What is a “straight face”? Faces are made up of protuberances, curves and slopes! By the time we “keep our tongue in our cheek”; “keep our chin (or chins) up”; try not to “lose face” or “keep a stiff upper lip”, one’s face would certainly be very animated and active! It would definitely take an effort to keep it “straight”!

Fostering and forging friendships should never be an effort, nor should it be an effort to be pleasant. However, as mentioned above there are some who make it hard for one to be forever felicitous!

We’ve all fidgeted and feigned attention when forced to attend boring seminars! We’ve wrestled to listen to never-ending laborious speakers. Those times we’ve found ourselves furiously fighting our feral eyelids in faltering attempts to fend off falling asleep! Those efforts, fervently directed at keeping said eyelids open are usually fruitlessly feeble! The well-meaning/self-indulgent emissions of the orator are wasted upon our otherwise occupied feverish, fitful selves!

Christmas is fast approaching! A few amongst us shall be in a flap when confronted with that other “F-word”- “family”! If forced to become a fellow- participant in such a frazzled family festivity/fiasco, attempt to forage all efforts to keep a lid on festering feelings of angst created by past fracture-causing misconceptions or fetishes, whether they be one’s own fault or the fault of others (mostly it’s “the fault of others” - they’re the ones fraught with foibles who are failures at making an “effort”)!

Don’t fret! No need to fabricate - there are many favourable “F-words” - like “fun” and “food”, for instance!

Fortunately, you can have your fill of both!

It’s no folly or fallacy!

Fennel Seed Dip: Beat 1/2tsp fennel seeds and 1c softened cream cheese together; add 1c sour cream; blend in 1/4c minced onion, salt, pepper and 1tsp paprika; cover; chill.

Falafel Burgers: Put 1/4c fine dry breadcrumbs in dish; set aside. Process 450g can rinsed, drained chickpeas, 1/2c chopped onion, 2 garlic cloves and 1tsp cumin until coarsely ground; add 2tbls plain flour and 1/4c chopped parsley. Shape mixture into 4 patties: brush with milk; coat in breadcrumbs. In nonstick pan, cook patties in hot oil over med-heat, 8-10mins or until lightly browned. To serve; Cut pita breads in half horizontally; fill halves with patties, cucumber and tomato slices; drizzle with Ranch dressing.

Feta-Prawn Linguine: In pan, heat 2tbls olive oil over med-heat. Add 500g prawns, 5 minced garlic cloves, 2tbls chopped shallots, 1/2c red capsicum strips, cracked black pepper, pinch of dried chilli and 1tbl dry white wine; cook 5mins; remove prawns; set aside. Cook 2 chopped tomatoes with 1tsp oregano and 2tsp torn fresh basil in wine mixture for 10mins. Cook 450g linguine until al dente; drain; toss hot pasta with prawns and sauce; add 180g crumbled feta.

Farmhouse Honey Fruit Cake: Cream 175g butter, 175g honey and zest of 1 lemon until light and fluffy; gradually add 3 lightly-beaten eggs; fold in 2c wholemeal flour, 2tsp baking powder and 1tsp mixed spice. Stir in 300g mixed fruit, 50g chopped dried apricots and 25g ground almonds. Pour into greased, lined 20cm cake pan; make slight hollow in centre; arrange blanched almonds around edge; bake in preheated 160C oven 2-2.5hrs; cool in pan 10mins before turning out.

Fine & Dandy Cocktail: Over ice, shake 1 dash Bitters, ½ nip Triple Sec, juice of ¼ lemon and 1.5 nips gin; strain into cocktail glass; decorate with a cherry – fabulous!

HEARTS OF DARKNESS

2010-07-09T19:42:00.000-07:00

In South Africa a child is raped every three minutes and AIDS continues to spread with epidemic ferocity.

http://www.abc.net.au/4corners/content/2010/s2913893.htm

It was with disgust and much anger I read a story in today’s magazine “QWeekend” which is issued with Saturday’s “Courier Mail”. The article was headed “Hearts of Darkness”…and I can assure you the subject matter is very, very dark…and very, very tragic.

Tears streamed down my face as I read the article – not only tears of sorrow, but also tears of sheer anger and frustration. For God’s sake, this is 2010 we are living in and such atrocities are still going on with no signs of abatement!

Today I feel very guilty because I watched our Socceroos play their couple of games in the 2010 World Cup competition being played in South Africa. I should have known better! I was going to watch the final between Spain and The Netherlands, Monday morning, our time. I was quite prepared to be awake at 4 am to watch the final, but I won’t be doing so now in respect for all those innocent young children who have been raped, and continue being raped.

I’m not a fan of soccer, anyway! It’s a stupid game, made even more stupid by those idiotic vuvuzelas annoying the shit out of everyone! “Dumb and Dumber” personified!

The thought that amongst the spectators are evil perpetrators of these horrific crimes; these crimes of great magnitude make my stomach turn. I’d be a hypocrite if I watched the final. In some way it would be as if I condoned the actions of these bastards!

If you really want to know how I feel about them….if I had my way, I wouldn’t be erecting sports’ stadiums….I’d be lining the bastards up in front of a firing squad! Is that clear enough?

It’s beyond my understanding why South Africa was allowed to host the World Cup! They spend billions of dollars building sporting arenas etc., and yet they can’t fix this horrendous problem.

"Children have no voice. That's also why you'll still see the crime called "child molestation" instead of rape. Many people have a difficult time imagining a child being raped, but that's exactly what it is. Activists like Carol Bower claim the government is effectively complicit in these crimes. Quote: "We have a great deal of misogyny in government and, from what we can see by the lack of ANC investment in clinics and training programmes for a new generation of rape counsellors, a profound lack of will to tackle this nightmare head-on" End Quote.

She points to the personal life of South African President Jacob Zuma, a proud polygamist with five known wives who was acquitted of rape in 2006, but only after he acknowledged having unprotected sex with the HIV-positive daughter of a family friend. Zuma's remarks about women, sex and Zulu culture caused controversy and there were ugly scenes outside the courtroom, with his supporters setting fire to pictures of the women involved."

Another woman outside the courtroom during that trial was stoned because she was mistakenly thought to be the victim!!!!!!!!!

‘Tis a strange world we live in, Master Jack!!!!!!

CH...CH…CH…CHANGES!

2010-06-06T18:03:00.000-07:00

David Bowie sang about it, and achieved it, time and time again. A leopard won’t do it, no matter what. Some say it’s inevitable. Others say we should welcome it. Many don’t want it, and would rather stick in the mud.

“There’s nothing wrong with change if it’s in the right direction,” mused Winston Churchill.

And then, Lao Tzu came up with one that was a bit of a conundrum just to confuse us (pun intended…did you get it?)- Quote: “If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading”! This one makes me scratch my head! What if where you’re heading IS the right direction? Did he consider that scenario?

And, of course, old Benjamin Franklin had to put the kybosh on everything by thoughtlessly sprouting – “When you’re finished changing, you’re finished!” Didn’t he ever read “The Power of Positive Thinking”?

Freud changed our attitudes towards the family couch.

Jung came along shortly thereafter to alter what we thought of Freud’s changes by consciously advising us how to unconsciously change our dreams.

Dylan reckoned the times were a-changing; we all listened intently and began to change our minds about a lot of things.

The Who were determined to change when they belted out “Won’t Get Fooled Again”!

Boyz ll Men fought against change when they discovered “It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday”! So did the Kinks because they went “All Day and All of the Night” without a change in the beat!

Cream wanted to change colour so they entered the “White Room”!

The Rolling Stones achieved complete “Satisfaction”, so obviously they didn’t want to change. The Doors suffered from the winter chill and asked us to light their fire!

Some think change is as good as a holiday, but that not always the case. Some holidays can be failures!

Is the key to change hanging off my key ring, I wonder?

Does one really change? I mean....deep within...does one change within? I don't think so. We grow - we mature - we learn as we walk life's path, but our inner self remains the same. I know mine has. I can't and won't speak for others.

Is the Wind of Change one’s destiny or just seasonal?

IT’S A MEATY ISSUE, BUT IT’S THE OFFAL TRUTH!

2010-05-20T13:59:00.000-07:00

The other day I had a cheerful chat with our local butcher up here on the mountain. That’s nothing new - I love butchers! They are a special, unique breed of humans.

When I took over the management of the resort on Hinchinbrook Island all the resort’s goods came from either Brisbane or Townsville. It didn’t require too many brains to realise that situation to be illogical and inconvenient. Being a keen supporter of local businesses, I approached the traders in the sleepy township of Cardwell across the waters from the island with the suggestion I purchase the resort’s livery from them. My idea was welcomed with open arms.

From the butcher to the hardware store, to the supermarket and all others in between, they were more than willing to oblige; happily promising to supply me with everything I needed, from paint brushes to kidney beans! To everyone’s mutual satisfaction, structures were quickly set into place. It was a two-way street (or waterway)! Cardwell benefited from the deal. In return, the townsfolk willingly spread the “good word” about the resort, so the resort reaped the rewards from “word of mouth” as many visitors followed the Yellow Brick Road from Cardwell across Missionary Bay to the island. It was a convenient and fruitful arrangement for all parties concerned.

The Cardwell butcher who gave exemplary service even at a moment’s notice was all heart. I’ve found that to be true of our butcher up here on the hill, too. A number of times I’ve asked for something special, or for them to attend to a special chore for me. Not once have they hesitated or let me down, ever willing to bend over backwards with continuous smiles on their faces. How do they do that? Butchers are so flexible! They could be competition gymnasts!

All it takes is a little commonsense….the more we shop locally, the more prices can be held at bay or lowered! That’s better than a kick in the kidneys - simple mathematics really! It’s tripe to think the grass is greener elsewhere!

I know a lot of folk don't like offal - they think its awful.....but the following recipes are for those who think offal is awfully nice....and that's the offal truth!

Tripe Italianne: Cut 1.5kg boiled tripe into thin strips. Put 1 chopped onion, 1 chopped carrot, 1 stick celery, chopped and 1-2 finely-chopped garlic cloves into pan; add 30g butter; fry well; add 2tbls extra virgin olive oil and tripe. When golden, add 500g chopped, peeled tomatoes, chopped basil and chopped spring onion; season. Reduce sauce over low heat; sprinkle with parmesan; serve with cannellini beans.

Crispy Sweetbreads: Soak 450g sweetbreads 2 hours in cold water; drain; place in saucepan; cover with fresh water; add 1tsp salt. Slowly bring to boil; drain. Remove membrane without tearing sweetbreads. Rinse pan; add sweetbreads, crumbled chicken stock cube and water to cover; simmer gently 15-20mins until tender. Drain; chill. Cut large sweetbreads in half at an angle, leaving smaller ones whole; coat in beaten egg; roll in fresh breadcrumbs. Melt butter in pan; fry sweetbreads gently until browned. Serve with bacon and lemon wedges.

Sweetbreads with Mushrooms: Soak 700g sweetbreads in cold water 4 hours; change water often. Place in a pan of water; slowly bring to boil; boil 2mins; drain; pat dry; remove membrane; cut crosswise into slices. Melt 2tbls butter in pan; add 1 chopped onion and 225g button mushrooms; cook until tender. Add 2tbls butter to pan; add sweetbreads; sauté 5mins. Add 100ml brandy; heat; ignite; cook gently 10mins. Combine 3/4c cream with 2 beaten egg yolks; add some hot pan juices to egg mixture; return to pan; add onions/mushrooms; heat gently; do not boil; season.

Middle Eastern Brains: Soak 4 sets lamb brains in water with 2tsp vinegar 1 hour; rinse; cut into large pieces; sauté 3 crushed garlic cloves in 1/4c olive oil; add 1 can drained tomatoes, 2tbls chopped parsley, 2tbls chopped coriander, 1tsp paprika, pinch cayenne, 1tsp cumin, pepper, salt and 1tbl lemon juice; cook gently 15mins; add brains; cook 10-15mins.

Kidneys in Port: Cut 6-8 sheep kidneys into 4; remove gristle; toss in seasoned flour. Fry gently in butter with a little chopped onion and a few sliced mushrooms; cook 5mins. Add 1/4c beef stock, 1/2c port; season to taste. Bring to boil; reduce; add a 1/3c cream; cook until thickened.

THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS – With a Nod to Ms Andrews

2010-05-06T15:03:00.000-07:00

Balmy spring showers laying dust as they pass; the intoxicating scent of freshly cut grass on crisp, clear morns; succulent buds proudly adorning tall trees as patiently they await their debut at summer’s dawning; thistledown clouds caressing cobalt skies; shimmering cream sand thresholds to aquamarine oceans are some of my favourite things!

Rainy days; moonlit nights; a forest eclipsed by an eerie, misty veil; an iridescent rainbow with its fanciful promise of a pot of gold at its elusive end; the contagious mirth of jocular kookaburras; the unique warbling of a magpie; the cheeky mimicry of butcher-birds!

And then there’s Gregory, my favourite nephew who invests time to telephone me regularly, even if to persistently torment me with tales of his prowess at prawn abduction, mud crab-napping and fish filchering! He’s fully aware they’re my favourite edibles! Just as well I’ve got a sense of humour!

The aroma of onions frying - that’ll draw crowds from afar! When living in Noosa, I was advised by a wise old sage to always fry onions in my shop around lunch time - it wasn’t a fashion boutique, by the way! Being one to heed advice from wise old sages, I was mindful of my mentor’s sagacious counsel! Frantic Pinocchio-nosed crowds laid siege upon my shop wildly demonstrating, demanding food! “Give ‘em cake!” Marie-Antoinette declared! The people hankered for more than cake, Marie-A! Ummm…they did salaciously devour my carrot-pineapple cakes, though!

My favourite things? I have many favourite things, most of which are simplistic and cost little. My two cats, books, particularly my Oxford dictionary and Roget’s Thesaurus, television (I'm not too proud to admit it) and computer head my list!

Here are a few of my favourite meals.

Beer-Battered Fish ‘n Chips: Preheat oven 200°C. Line a baking tray with non-stick baking paper. Cut 2 large, unpeeled potatoes into wedges. Place wedges on tray. Drizzle with olive oil; season - (sprinkle with paprika, if desired....or other spices/herbs of choice). Cook in oven, turning occasionally, for 40 minutes or until golden brown. Place 1-1/2c S.R flour in a bowl. Add 1 egg; stir to combine. Gradually whisk in 375g chilled lager until batter is smooth; season. Cover; place in the fridge for 30mins. Add vegetable oil to a large saucepan to reach a depth of 8cm. Heat to 190°C over high heat (when oil is ready a cube of bread will turn golden brown in 10 seconds). Dust 4 fish fillets with flour; - dip 2 pieces of fish, 1 at a time, into batter to coat; drain off excess. Deep-fry for 3-4 minutes until golden brown and cooked. Transfer to plate lined with paper towel. Repeat with remaining fish and batter, reheating oil between batches. Serve with potato wedges.

Lemon-Garlic Squid: Grab 450g cleaned squid, reserve tentacles; cut body section into ½-inch rings; wash under cold running water; pat dry. Place squid in a shallow dish; add reserved tentacles. Squeeze over juice of 1 lemon; toss; stand about 5mins; drain squid in colander; shake to remove excess liquid. Heat 75ml olive oil in a large frying pan/wok; add 3-4 finely chopped garlic cloves and grated lemon zest; cook very slowly as it comes up to heat. When it is really hot, add squid; sauté in the hot oil, keeping it on the move so it just slightly takes on colour at the edges – it will only take about 1-2 minutes to cook; season with salt, freshly ground black pepper and 2tbls chopped Italian parsley; serve immediately with lemon wedges.

Veal/Chicken/Pork Schnitzel: Lightly beat 3 eggs. To 1c quality breadcrumbs, add 1/2c parmesan and 1tbls finely chopped sage; set aside. Coat 8 schnitzels with flour; dip into egg, then breadcrumbs. Heat 2tbls olive oil and 1tbl butter over mod-heat in frying pan; add 4 schnitzels; cook 1-2mins each side; remove; keep warm; add more oil and butter; cook remaining schnitzels; serve with lemon wedges or Paprika-Sour Cream Sauce: Dice 4 bacon rashers; fry until crisp; add 2tbls chopped onion; brown; season with salt, pepper and 1tbl paprika; stir in 1c sour cream and 2tbls tomato paste; cook wide, flat noodles; serve sauce over noodles with schnitzels.

P.S. Acrylic painting done by me.

k_d_lang-Hallelujah-Full.mov

2010-05-03T19:19:00.000-07:00

Fortunately, that clown Bert Newton's faulty commentary has been wiped of this viewing of k d Lang's brilliant performance at Sunday night's Logie Awards....she is superb and I'm not too proud to admit that every time I watch her perform Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah", she brings tears to my eyes and leaves me in awe of her performance and amazing talent. Cohen has said that Lang's version is his favourite of all versions of his song...and I can understand why. As Tony Bennett stated...."she is a singer's singer".

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did and do.

I couldn't believe my eyes/ears when Newton twice incorrectly said that Lang "performed the song at the Montreal 2010 Olympics"! Why he wasn't corrected, beats me. This man is way, way past his use-by date, and I really don't understand why we have to be continuously tormented by his face on our television screens!

ALL TOGETHER NOW - LET’S DO THE HOKEY-POKEY!

2010-04-25T15:46:00.000-07:00

Nowadays, one has to be a contortionist to survive.

Constantly we’re told we have to “buckle up”; “knuckle down”; “tighten your belt”; “put on the brakes”; ”bounce right back”; “toe the line”; “keep your head down”; (or “pull it in”), “brace yourself”; “bite the bullet”; “keep your eye on the ball”; “keep your chin up”; “keep your nose to the grindstone”; “pull your socks up”; “put your best foot forward” (I don’t know which is my best foot – they both look much the same to me and appear to do similar jobs); “broaden your horizons”; “keep your head above water”; “sink or swim”; “take a deep breath; “exhale” (I wish they’d make up their minds!); “don’t jump into the deep end”; “think twice before you leap”.

Personally, I prefer to think more than twice before taking a leap!

If we attempted to do all the above tasks, we’d have no time to spare, not to mention the total confusion trying to follow so many commands! Perhaps it’d be better to go out on a limb and play it by ear! Or it would be best to twiddle our thumbs to decide if it’s thumbs up or thumbs down while taking one step forward and ten back; all the time rolling our eyes, raising our eyebrows and shrugging! Of course, we could spin in one spot and go nowhere!

It’s important to remember, however; if you can’t jump that pesky hurdle, go around it, or dig a hole and crawl under it! Whew! Now we need a nap, but before you go, here are some budget-friendly ideas to chew on.

Cajun Beans: Cut 2 bacon rashers into ½-inch pieces; cook until brown; drain: set aside. To pan, add 1 chopped onion, 2 chopped celery stalks, 1 chopped capsicum, 1 zucchini, diced, 2 chopped garlic cloves, 2tsps Cajun seasoning, pinch of cumin, 1/2tsp thyme; season. Cook 10-12mins, stirring occasionally. Add 2 cans diced tomatoes, undrained; cook 10mins. Stir in 2-1/2c cooked kidney beans and 1-1/2c of bean cooking water (or canned beans) and the bacon. Cook 3-5mins. Serve over brown rice.

Macaroni Tuna-Cheese: Cook 250g macaroni until tender, drain; rinse. Melt 4tbls butter in saucepan; add 2 chopped onions and 1 small chopped capsicum; sauté over low heat 3-4mins, until tender. Add 2tbls plain flour, salt and pepper; cook, stirring, until smooth and bubbly. Add 1c milk and 1 can of mushroom soup; stir over low heat until smooth and thickened. Add cooked drained macaroni, 250g canned tuna, drained, 1/2c thawed frozen peas and 1/2c grated cheese to sauce mixture, stirring constantly. Pour the mixture into buttered casserole; top with grated cheese and some buttered, soft bread crumbs; bake at 175C about 40mins.

Chicken in Puff Pastry: Cook 4 bacon rashers until crisp; drain; crumble; set aside. Drain pan; don’t wipe out. Add 1tbl olive oil to pan; add 3 boneless, cubed chicken thighs and 1/2c chopped onion. Cook together until chicken is no longer pink. Remove with slotted spoon to a bowl. Add 125g softened cream cheese and bacon to chicken; mix well; add some chopped fresh herbs. Cut a sheet of thawed puff pastry into 4x6-inch squares. Divide chicken between squares; fold in half. Seal edges; press with fork. Place on baking tray; brush with beaten egg. Bake in preheated 200C oven 20-25mins.

French Onion Pork: Slash edges of 4 pork loin chops. In pan fry 2 chopped bacon rashers until crisp; drain. Add a little oil to pan brown chops; transfer to plate. To pan, add 2 sliced onions, 1tspn Italian herbs; season. Cook 10mins. Sprinkle 1tbl plain flour into pan, cook, stirring 1min. Add 3/4c chicken stock; bring to boil, stirring and scraping. Return bacon, chops and juices to pan, turn chops to coat. Cover, reduce heat; simmer until cooked. Stir in 1tsp cider vinegar.

Seven-Layer Casserole: Layer thinly-sliced potatoes, carrots and onions in buttered casserole. Sprinkle 1/2c uncooked long-grain rice over vegetables. Add 2 undrained cans of peas; arrange 500g pork sausages over peas. Dilute 1 can tomato soup with water; pour over sausage; season. Cover; cook in 175C oven, 1 hour – then uncovered a further hour.

IN HONOUR OF OUR BRAVE DIGGERS - PAST AND PRESENT

2010-04-20T14:56:00.000-07:00

It’s beyond my comprehension the gung-ho behaviour that's displayed by certain elements of our society. I’m constantly disgusted and angered by the violence and lack of respect perpetrated by some sections of today’s youth; despicable, intolerable actions that are insults to human intelligence. I have momentary flashes of optimism, but these disappear rapidly when I hear another report of a shameless, cowardly act.

If it was within my power, my punishment for these louts would be to send them off for a long weekend to Afghanistan to stand beside our troops, and if they re-offend, I’d send them off again for a week-long stay! And if they’re eager for more…a month! If these numbskulls are so keen to fight they should walk in the boots of our fine men and women who have fought in past wars, and of those who are still representing this county on today’s battlefields! Perhaps then they’d fully understand what fighting is all about! Instead of being two-pot screamers or bar-room cowboys they might learn the value of life; their own and that of others.

Thousands upon thousands of our brave Diggers have given their lives, and thousands upon thousands of others have forfeited their souls for their fellow Aussies to have the right to stand tall and be free; strong, proud men and women whose deeds and memories deserve much more from us all…the clowns especially! These brainless cowards who roam our streets bashing, robbing and worse have no idea of the true meaning of “standing by your mate”!

One of the most sobering and emotive times in my life was the day I visited the Bomana War Cemetery, Port Moresby on PNG’s Remembrance Day, 23rd July, 1987. On their way to Afghanistan, perhaps a visit could be organised for the morons who terrorise innocent others. They could also be given a guided tour of the Kokoda Trail! That would surely get rid of their pent up angst and ignorance!

Can You Hear Australia's Heroes Marching? Lest we forget – lest we forget!

THAR'S GOLD IN THEM THAR HILLS!

2010-04-13T16:45:00.000-07:00

There’s an amusing story tied up in the title, however, until I get to know you better it shall remain untold! Suffice to say that because of the misguided politically-correct world in which we dwell these days it would go down like a lead balloon or worse! Sexual harassments cases would be rife if one was so inclined! More the pity when something innocent and fun can be contorted into something evil and defamatory. Speaking of “gold”; time spent reading is golden.

As children growing up in the gold town of Gympie, my brother and I were encouraged to read, receiving books as gifts for birthdays, Christmas and times in between. Also, our fertile, impressionable imaginations were nurtured by our Nana whose fascinating tales of her “golden olden days” growing up in the Gympie area kept us enthralled night after night. There’s a lot of history emanating from Gympie.

This morning I was struck by a bug...a violent bug! I started cleaning out the drawers of my computer desk and those of a nearby chest of drawers. Boy! I'm a hoarder of paper; paper with many notations upon it! So far I've managed to fill five bags full of rubbish!

However, on going through my many jottings and other bits and pieces, I came upon "The Beadle", a little Gympie newsletter published in February, 1918! "The Beadle", apparently, was published by the Gympie Presbyterian Church. Reading it, I came across the following:

"We regret to record the death of Mr. Robert Hose, who was killed in the Scottish Gympie Mine (gold mine...at the time acclaimed to be the biggest in the southern hemisphere) by the fall of a rock. He was buried on the 24th, the Rev. W.J. Taylor officiated.

Mr. Hose was just over 50 years of age, and within a few days would have left the mine to take up land at Goomboorian."

Said Robert Hose was my great-grandfather. He usually didn't work underground but that particular day he was covering for another workmate who had called in sick.

Reading an article a short while ago I learned that Tom Bath, the grandfather of Clarissa Dickson Wright, one of the famous “Two Fat Ladies” was born in Gympie. “Bath Terrace” in Gympie was obviously named after him, a fact of which I was unaware.

Judy Cornwell who played Daisy, Hyacinth’s daggy sister in “Keeping Up Appearances” came from the Gold Town. I knew Judy’s brother, Max quite well when he and I were members of the Gympie Drama Group. Their father, Barry was a writer with the “Gympie Times”. And, of course, I come from Gympie…there has to be something golden in that, don’t you think? No? Okay…perhaps that’s a load of bullion!

THROUGH ROSE-COLOURED GLASSES....

2010-04-06T15:42:00.000-07:00

Who wants a pink world, anyway? I, for one, don’t!

The other day a wild thought rattled the door to my mind. Out of curiousity I reacted to the summons, of course! What would happen, thought I, if I put my glasses on upside down? Would all around me be inverted? Naturally, I tried! Hey! Presto! Regretfully, I report everything remains the same! Well, it was worth trying – you never know until you try! Nothing else requiring my attention was on my schedule at the time!

One must never assume that all is what it appears to be. One should never be so presumptuous! Think about it - until my experiment and revelation you might never have known! It could have been otherwise, and you would have missed out in a lot of fun if it had been other than what it is! Stop scoffing! You could’ve been marvelling instead, if my experiment had proven successful!
You should be commending my convoluted musterings; a laborious labyrinth that works in intricate, mysterious ways; and that I dare to dip my toes in where others fear to tread!

I proffer no shame or embarrassment when revealing the methods by which I keep myself amused while whiling away my days! In contrast, my evanescent musings would vanish in a vacuum; my non-resident truant thoughts hidden in a void, eclipsed by an obscure veil of slothful inertia! An uninhabited mind depleted of thoughts is like a freighter with non-existent cargo or a deserted island with an absentee Robinson Crusoe; vacated by Friday, as well!

Friday Tuna Quickie: Preheat oven 190C. Roll and shape 1sheet puff pastry to fit quiche dish. Defrost and drain 1 packet frozen spinach. Place 2-3 eggs, 1/2c cream and 1/2c milk in bowl; mix well; add 425g well-drained, canned tuna, 100g grated cheese, salt and pepper. Pour into pastry; bake 35-45mins.

Friday Night Spaghetti: Process 2 garlic cloves and 2tbls Italian parsley with salt in processor. Cook 500g spaghetti. Heat 2tbls olive oil in pan; stir in garlic-parsley mix and 2tbls diced onion; cook about 3mins; don’t brown; blend in a little chicken stock; reduce to nil; stir in 2 drained, rinsed canned anchovies and 1tbl tomato paste together with 1/3c chicken stock; stir over heat 1min. Blend in 1 can drained tuna in oil; season. If it needs more stock, add a little to moisten bottom of pan. Toss in drained pasta, 2 more tablespoons diced onion, 1/3c coarsely chopped black olives, and 1tbl drained capers. Toss over medium heat a few minutes to thoroughly coat the spaghetti with sauce.

Mini Meatloaves: Preheat oven to 190ºC. Lightly spray a 12 capacity muffin tin with oil. Line each muffin hole with bacon slices so bacon hangs over the sides. Place 500g mince, 1 minced garlic clove, 2tsps chopped ginger, 1tbl Worcestershire sauce, 1tbl rosemary, salt and pepper, 1c breadcrumbs, 1c frozen peas, 1c chopped parsley and 2 lightly beaten eggs in a bowl; mix well. Press on top of bacon then fold bacon over to enclose. Place in oven; bake 25-30 minutes. Refrigerate until needed, if serving cold with salad.

Chicken a La Friday: Heat oil in pan; cook 2 chicken breasts, cut into chunks with 1 chopped garlic clove and 1 chopped onion until chicken is cooked through. Season with 2tsp ground ginger, chilli, 1/2tsp each cinnamon, turmeric, cumin and white pepper; set heat to medium. Mix in 250g canned, chopped tomatoes and 4tbls chicken stock; simmer; stir in 2tbl slivered almonds. Stir in 4tbls each cream and yoghurt; cook gently 2 to 4mins; serve on rice.

TGIF Egg Pita Pizzas: Preheat the oven to 180C. Place pitas onto 2 oven trays. Spread with bottled pasta sauce; arrange shaved ham, drained pineapple pieces and grated tasty cheese onto pitas; leave an 8cm round space in centre. Break an egg into centre of each pizza; bake15mins, until eggs have set and base is crispy.

TGIF Cocktail: Blend 1/2oz each Frangelico, Baileys and white Crème de Cacao with 2oz cranberry or strawberry sauce, 2 scoops vanilla ice cream and 1/2c crushed ice; blend until smooth: pour into tall glasses; garnish with aerosol whip and finely chopped pecans.

EGGSELLENT! I’M SO EGGSITED! YOU KNOW EGGSACTLY WHAT I MEAN!

2010-03-30T19:30:00.000-07:00

My goodness! I blinked! I just couldn’t control my errant eyelids! Honestly, I tried to harness them! Truly, I did!

Easter is already here...well, almost! It’s entirely my fault because I blinked! Vent your anger now! Rid yourself of the ire within! Go on! I can handle it! However, you’ll soon forgive me once you get stuck into your cache of chocolate! I won’t notice your tantrum, anyway! I’m too busy laying out a trail for the Easter Bunny to follow. Also, I’m constructing a few nests just in case the Easter Bird remembers me from days of old and decides to fly in for a swift visit! When we were kids it was the Easter Bird who laid the luscious eggs and deposited them to my brother and me. The Easter Bunny didn’t exist in our household.

By the way, I apologise (not really) to all you pedantic folk out there whom I may upset with my following words. I can’t quite wrap my head (or mouth) around an Easter Bilby. The bilby just doesn’t fit into my whole scheme of Easter feastings. I think it’s taking eco-political correctness a little too far over and beyond the rabbit-proof fence!

(I suppose it’s not in good taste to put rabbit on the menu for Easter Sunday lunch!}

The Easter Bunny isn’t a modern creation. He’s been hopping around since the pagan festival of Eostre (y’oster), the great Germanic/Teutonic Mother Goddess of Fertility. Perhaps that’s why bunnies breed like rabbits or vice versa! But, of course, way back in Eostre’s day it wasn’t the rabbit that was so highly revered – it was the lowly hare! So when Easter Sunday dawns, look out your back or front windows - side ones, too, for that matter. Steal a moment of reflective gratitude. Doff your garden hats at our most humble, regular visitor who has no idea when Easter is, least of all, the role he plays in it. Each day rolls into the other as far as he’s concerned. He needs no calendar. From now on, I’m going to conduct daily searches under the rhubarb and in my vegetable patch. Maybe I’ll find chocolate eggs there every day of the year. Wow! Just ponder that thought! Hares abound up here on the mountain!

As legend goes, my brother and I weren’t too far off the mark with the Easter Bird.

The tale is that Eostre was late in coming once. A child found a bird close to death. She went to Eostre for help. The Goddess turned the wounded bird into a snow hare, which then brought rainbow eggs.

Ancient cultures decorated eggs in celebration of spring as far away as 3000 years ago, or further. The word “Easter” was adopted by the Christian religion much later. The Goddess of Spring and Dawn or Our Mother God was in the form of a bird - ‘twas she who created the Great Egg!

No males (or rabbits, hares or bilbies) figured at that point in time!

What a peaceful, harmonious world it must have been! Oops! Sorry, you menfolk out there! I got a bit eggcited at the image! The myths and sutras from that time are all feminine! I could rave on forever about this one! The bra-burning ladies of the Seventies’ revolution were right - God is a woman, after all!

My fridge remains the safe sanctuary for my Lindt bunny from a couple of Easters past. There he sits; secure in the knowledge that he and I are lifelong friends. He has nought to fear from me!

Be like him - stay safe and enjoy your Easter!

Seeing that rabbit is off my Easter menu, I’m now even looking quizzically at the chicken!

HERE'S A CLUE! TAKE A HINT!

2010-03-25T15:04:00.000-07:00

Will people ever start accepting responsibility for their own actions? It’s disheartening, but “probably never” is the realistic answer!

Reading a “Hints and Money-Saving” article the other day, I had a little grumble (as opposed to my many major grumbles). One bright spark wrote in saying that years ago toothpaste companies made the holes in the toothpaste tubes smaller, whereas these days the holes are larger forcing the consumer to use more! What a lot of hogwash - or tooth-wash! When cleaning my teeth, I’m the only one squeezing the tube, which places me in charge of my individual destiny, and of the amount of toothpaste that oozes onto my toothbrush!

There are many, too many, who find it much easier to blame others if something breaks or goes wrong. Will some never cease passing the buck?

Many parents hand parenting onto teachers. If their child falls behind in class or misbehaves in the schoolyard, it’s the fault of the teacher or the education system.

If a car thief is being chased by police, it’s the fault of the police if the criminal (and yes, folks, car theft is a criminal action) crashes the stolen vehicle. If the political correct “do-gooder-civil-libertarians” jumping up and down waving their arms around and sprouting hot air get their way, soon they, the thieves will have free rein to do whatever they like! It’ll be legal to steal a vehicle! Ummm...I do need a new car!

After the recent Chilean earthquake tsunami warnings were issued. Fortunately, no tsunami eventuated on our shores or elsewhere; instead, those who issued the warnings copped the lashing! If no warnings had been issued and a tsunami hit all hell would’ve broken loose! It’s a case of “damned if you do - damned if you don’t”! That "between a rock and a hard place" does get over-crowded at times.

People have to be accountable for their own actions; for behaviour that causes harm and/or distress to others!

In the home, parents must teach their children well; teach their young to face their responsibilities from an early age; to own up when in the wrong; to face the consequences.

Stop casting blame like the sun casts shadows! When did commonsense go out of fashion? Can anyone tell me?

(The "Alice" theme in this post and my previous is purely coincidental, although some people do appear to live in their own "Wonderland"!)

FALLING IN LOVE AGAIN!

2010-03-19T17:29:00.000-07:00

Forsaking discretion in a previous post, openly I disclosed the theft of my heart by Insp. Morse. Henceforth, I’ve put him aside and moved on to other pastures. Please don’t reprimand my fickle, flirty vagabond heart. After all, to be a cougar is fashionable these days!

Morse shall forever remain dear and near, but one rainy day in February Insp.Thomas (Tommy, to his friends) Lynley, eighth Earl of Asherton entered my life. The tall, handsome, blonde-haired, brown-eyed Lord has barely left my side since! He’s a prisoner in my covetous grasp! Kudos to our mountain library! Over the past weeks I’ve fallen under the spell of author Elizabeth George’s brilliant tomes. Sadly, only a couple of volumes of the Lynley sagas remain to be engorged by me. I rue the day I turn the final page of the final book! The thought of releasing my beloved Tommy makes me shudder!

Falling in love (or is it mere infatuation?) with fictionalized characters is not uniquely a weakness of the young. An ancient like me can become a witless victim, as well! Mr. Darcy is not the sole protagonist capable of setting one’s mollient heart a-fluttering! You find me a real live Earl of Asherton (or Darcy), and we’ll discuss the matter further – okay? Until then, please keep your opinion to yourself!

Have you noticed as you grow older the mirror becomes heartlessly less kind to you?

Upon reflection, one would think that after years of gazing into each other’s eyes, and, on the surface, after all the diligent polishing of the relationship, the situation would be otherwise! Years of familiarity and close inspection make no difference whatsoever! The saying “familiarity breeds contempt” appears to be true in this instance; on both sides of the looking glass!

As my mirrors grow older and crankier, and my pace increases when passing one, I’ll continue to hitch a ride on the turning pages. Therein, my true love, or loves lay! I won’t find him (or them - I’m greedy) walking the aisle of the supermarket! Or could I?

Another painting by me for a niece's little girls...painted and presented late 2009.

WITH A SHILLELAGH UNDER ME ARM AND A TWINKLE IN ME EYE!

2010-03-14T13:55:00.000-07:00

I’ll be off to Tipperary in the morning; although, hopefully not on this train:

“Incomprehensibly, the last coach of the train to Tipperary kept getting vandalised. Paddy, the porter came up with a bright idea. "Why don't we just leave the last coach off?"

The Irish are a resilient mob! Not only are they able to take the mickey out of themselves, but they take little, if any, offence at being the brunt of the myriad jokes at their expense.

It’d be a dull old world without the Irish! Without the Irish, we’d be sadly lacking in jokes for one thing! (Where would I be? My gene tree is a blend of Irish and Scottish – not denim as you thought)!

I’ve sorted through my mass collection of Celtic music; polished my dancing shoes to a mirror sheen in readiness for a dose of “Riverdance” to get my heart a-pumping and feet a-tapping; spruced up my Donegal tweed jacket, and sent a text to my leprechaun mate! And I’ve just remembered I have an LP of bagpipe music somewhere! Did you know the Irish invented the bagpipes, and then they gave them to the Scots as a joke? The Scots haven’t seen the joke, yet!

As for St. Patrick – it’s legendary that he chased the snakes out of Ireland, but what the Irish don’t tell us is that St. Pat was the only one who saw the snakes!!! I wonder what he’d been drinking! I’ll hazard a guess by saying too much Guinness or Bushmills! The tenacious Irish are a lyrical mob, poetic by nature, musical by instinct; inherently comical!

"Mulligan gets on a bus and asks the conductor how long the trip is between Limerick to Cork. "About 2 hours," says the conductor. "Okay," says the Mulligan, "then how long is the trip between Cork to Limerick?" The irate conductor answers gruffly, "It's still about 2 hours! Why'd ya think there'd be a difference?" "Well," says Mulligan, "It's only a week between Christmas and New Year's, but it's a helluva long time between New Year's to Christmas!"

“Molly followed her husband to the pub. Taking a sip of his pint of Guinness, she said, "How can you come here and drink that awful stuff?" "See!!" Shamus cried, "And you always said I was out enjoying meself!"

If you’re lucky enough to be Irish – you’re lucky enough! May your troubles be as few and as far apart as my grandmother’s teeth!

Irish Stew: Grab some meat; some potatoes and lots of Guinness. Drink the stout; forget about the stew.

St. Patrick Day Guinness Cupcakes with Expresso Topping

Makes 24 cupcakes: Prep: 25 minutes Cook: 28 minutes

For cupcakes:
½ cup unsalted butter
360ml Guinness
½ tsp. vanilla extract
2 cups plain flour
2 cups granulated sugar
¾ c. natural unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp. salt
1 ¼ tsp. baking soda
¾ cup sour cream
3 eggs

1. Preheat oven to 175C. Fill two 12-count muffin pans with paper baking cups.

2. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the butter, Guinness and vanilla. Stir occasionally until butter is melted. Pour into a large mixing bowl and set aside to cool for at least 10 minutes.

3. In another large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, salt and baking soda. Using an electric mixer on medium speed, gradually combine with the Guinness mixture in three additions. Beat in the sour cream, then beat in the eggs one by one.

4. Pour the batter into the prepared muffin pans, filling each cup about three-quarters full. Bake for 22 to 28 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of a cupcake comes out clean. Leave in the pan to cool for 5 minutes; finish cooling on a wire rack. Frost when cooled completely.

For frosting:
3 cups icing sugar
1/3 cup butter, cut into cubes and softened
1 ½ tsp. instant espresso coffee, dissolved in 3 tbs. water

1. In a large bowl, beat the sugar and butter with an electric mixer on low speed to combine. Pour in the espresso mixture and continue beating on medium-high until frosting is smooth and creamy. If frosting is too thick, add water a couple drops at a time to reach desired consistency. Makes enough for 24 cupcakes or an 8-9 inch two-layer cake.

THE RHYTHM OF LIFE IS A POWERFUL BEAT!

2010-03-08T13:38:00.000-08:00

We’ve all experienced an embarrassing moment or three. I admit I’ve gone over my quota! Far too many inglorious disasters to list!

You know those episodes –you’re as red as a beetroot, standing on one leg amongst a group of people! You’re posturing on one leg because your other foot is placed securely in your mouth! With eyes bulging, it’s quite a balancing act, particularly if you’ve got a drink in one hand and a canapė in the other, with no where to hide! Where is that rock when you desperately need it? Moments of major embarrassment when we feel sure that we could glow in the dark!

Humans are colourful beings. We are creatures of many hues, and I’m not referring to race. Homo sapiens can be green with envy; purple with rage; cowardly yellow. Some are black and white; some are grey; and others blue! Many are brown as berries; tanned as leather (or orange from artificial tanning gone wrong)! And, at times, flushed more than that porcelain bowl in the bathroom! The human palette is a kaleidoscopic spectrum greater than the variegations of a rainbow!

Mingled with our mosaic patchwork, we seethe, simmer, boil, rage, rant, laugh and cry, interspersed with periods of calm, peace, empathy, love and mellowness. We humans are a potpourri of ever-changing, mobile ingredients. We go white from shock; ashen with sorrow; scarlet in shame; blush crimson at flattery. When we want to become invisible, we can’t; but we can become transparent when lying – or become dim when unable to understand the punch-line of a joke or when attempting to decipher a mathematical equation!

On top of all of those talents, we’re also adept at making spectacles of ourselves.

What a feat - it’s hard to beat!

Painting by me - for a niece's new baby girl!

THE SIXTIES ON MY MIND! WHAT A DAY FOR A DAYDREAM

2010-03-01T16:02:00.001-08:00

To me there has always been something incredibly seductive about restaurant kitchens. I fell under their spell many years ago. Seduced by the unique aroma of cold rooms and glistening stainless steel bench tops; the heat emanating from sturdy ranges, simmering hot pots filled with mysterious ingredients and slippery oil-splattered floors, I knew I had to be part of that weird, wonderful world. I was alive! Like Niagara Falls, my adrenalin copiously flowed! I was charmed, intrigued and captivated! I’m sure many would question my sanity, but don’t worry, I’ve been insane for years so save your time!

After a few years of dangerous manoeuvering one adopts a unique kitchen gait, one that’s even more contagious than the Hokey-Pokey! Without it, danger lurks in every step and corner!

Akin to curtains rising upon a stage show, the doors of the restaurant open, and the show begins! Eager diners stream in, and their orders take over the kitchen, staring at you from spikes above the ranges…the spell is broken in a blink! It’s all systems go! If you don’t have all the preparation done, the restaurant may as well remain closed. All hell will break loose otherwise! You’ll be so behind the eight-ball, you’ll never catch up. Disaster lies in ambush! One’s focus must remain unbroken until the last meal is served. It’s a very stressful, but rewarding job - one not for the faint-hearted.

These days I prefer a leisurely lunch spent with a good friend like the one I had over the weekend here at my personal dining table, or the one I shared at same friend’s home a couple of weeks ago. Both were lots of fun, just kicking back over a wine or two, simple, but excellent food, while being entertained by music from the Sixties, causing much reflection on the days of our youth – a time of mental growth; a time of taking both tentative and brash steps towards discovering our respective place in life. The Sixties were a magical mystery tour!

I’m glad I was part of it all – and can remember that I was!

To quote Bob Dylan: “People today are still living off the table scraps of the Sixties. They are still being passed around -- the music and the ideas.”

A FEW PORKIES!

2010-02-26T14:28:00.000-08:00

Presently a delicious-looking piece of shoulder pork sits patiently in my refrigerator defrosting in readiness for roasting, and impatiently, I sit here drooling over the thought of its end outcome.

My appetite already whetted and tormented, I have a desperate desire to share my torment with you.

Every time I open my fridge door I'm confronted by the glorious piece of meat sitting there tempting and tormenting me, waiting to be altered to a culinary delight! Perhaps I should stop opening my fridge door so I don't succumb too early to its blatant enticement. Like a seductive siren, it beckons me forth! I can’t wait to get my teeth around its crisp, golden crackling!

It's constant presence reminds me of a particular episode when I was living on Newry Island, north-east of Mackay. Upon taking over the island (I sound like a pirate, don't I?)I discovered a couple of very large legs of pork, together with some frozen, cooked mud crabs in the freezer. Not knowing how long they'd been in the freezer, and not willing to take a chance on their longevity, I decided to discard them.

Not one to litter, I pondered the situation over a chilled beer as I decided their fate. Digging a monstrous hole was one option. Another was to throw them into the ocean. Adopting the latter option, with the sun departing the western sky, I tossed the frozen consignment into the bay, knowing they’d eventually be carried out to sea where they'd become fodder for the abundant sea creatures. Earth to earth, dust to dust, food to the fishes of the great blue yonder!

Ignorantly, I discounted the fact that the first incoming tide during the night would return my bountiful donation to shore!

Early next morning, I heard the sound of a boat motor. Rushing down the beach to greet my unexpected visitors, with a group of island guests hot pursuit, you can imagine my panic and embarrassment when I spotted, gaily bobbing up and down on the gently rippling waves in front of me the errant legs of pork and bright orange, cooked mud crabs!

As I jumped about waist-deep in water with a pole in one hand trying to hold down the rampant crustaceans and pork and my other arm flailing in a frantic attempt to drown the returned reprobates out of the way of prying, inquisitive eyes, a little boy yelled out excitedly;

“Look Mum! Mud crabs! Lots and lots of mud crabs!”

“Yeah,” I replied, dementedly. “I’m lucky. They come already cooked here!”

Balsamic Roast Pork:

Preheat oven 180C; season 1.5kg boneless pork loin with freshly ground black pepper. Heat a large pan to smoking point; add meat; seal on all sides for 3-4mins until golden brown. Transfer to roasting dish. In pan, melt 50g unsalted butter; add 2 red onions, cut into 8 wedges and 15g fresh, chopped rosemary. Sauté for 5mins until onion has softened. Tip into the roasting tin; pour over 125ml balsamic vinegar. Make sure the pork is well coated. Place in oven; cook for 40-45mins, stirring onions occasionally and basting the pork. 40mins before pork is ready add 6 small green apples, halved and pour over another 125ml balsamic vinegar. When apples are tender and pork is cooked, remove pork from roasting tin; allow to stand 10mins before carving. Place apples in serving dish; cover and keep warm until read to serve. Stir some dry white wine into roasting juices; simmer 3-4mins over medium heat. Serve with pork and apples.

Roast Pork Loin with Horseradish Crust:

Preheat oven 220C. In heavy skillet, cook 1c fresh breadcrumbs in 1tbl olive oil, salt and pepper over medium heat until golden. Transfer bread crumbs to a bowl; toss well with 2tbls bottled horseradish. Pat 2kg piece boneless loin pork dry; season with salt and pepper. In skillet heat 1tbl oil over moderately high heat until hot, but not smoking; brown pork on all sides, about 5 minutes. Transfer pork to a shallow baking pan. In a small bowl, mix 1.5tbls each Dijon mustard and mayonnaise; coat top and sides of pork evenly with mixture. Press bread crumb mixture evenly onto mustard; roast pork in middle of oven 25-30mins (if bread crumbs begin to get too browned, arrange a sheet of foil loosely over pork). Transfer pork to a cutting board; let stand 5 minutes.

Lemon Pork Scallopini:

Brush 2 pork scallopini on both sides with 1/4c Italian dressing; season with lemon pepper; set aside. Mix together 1/3c each plain flour and grated Parmesan cheese on shallow plate. Coat pork generously; shake off excess. Heat 1-2tbls butter and a dash or two of lemon juice in large non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Quickly cook scallopini, about 3 minutes per side. Serve with garlic mashed potatoes, buttered broccoli spears, sliced tomatoes with blue cheese vinaigrette.

FEAR AND LOATHING ON HINCHINBROOK ISLAND!

2010-02-22T14:53:00.000-08:00

Living and working on an island paradise was a dream come true. After taking care of the daily whims and requirements of the resort guests (and my staff), I’d escape to my haven, my little house positioned at the end of the track leading up to Cape Richards on Hinchinbrook Island. Without lifting my head off my pillows, each morning I woke to commanding views of the ocean and islands beyond. My house, distanced from the guest accommodation, the restaurant and staff quarters, offered well-earned privacy at the end of my days; days that commenced as the sun made its first dazzling bow on dawn's horizon. Regularly, the curtains drew towards a close on my nights around midnight, and many, many times much later.

At the start of the track leading to my home, hidden amongst trees, stood a cabin that housed the resort’s chief maintenance man, Ted. A “man’s man”, Ted was a 'true-blue' Aussie bloke. He was a man of few words. I was a woman, and his boss, and because of that I knew, from the beginning of our working relationship that subtlety would be required if I wanted to gain his trust, respect and loyalty. I never questioned Ted regarding his duties. I had total faith in his abilities. At the end of his working day, I’d make a point of sharing a beer with him. It was my secret plan to gain his trust. Over a chilled can or two, our conversations covered all subjects, but I never pointedly asked him questions about his job. Eventually, Ted relaxed and opened up freely. I learned what was happening out in the 'field' without being his “boss”. I was the first, and probably the last, woman for whom he has worked. We gained a mutual respect of each other, and of the individual roles we played in the successful operation of the resort.

Early mornings before my staff and guests stirred, the resort office demanded my undivided attention. Daily rosters, sea plane and boat arrivals, orders, bookings and general clerical duties commandeered my time. My daily “uniform” of casual attire, comprising Jamaican shorts or long t-shirts ensured comfort and coolness in the tropical heat. Every afternoon around 5pm, I went to my dwelling for a refreshing shower, before changing into 'smart casual wear” for the evening. My evenings were spent mingling with, and enjoying the company of the island’s guests. I treated my guests as if they were dinner guests in my home. Many interesting, fascinating people from various walks of life, and from all parts of the world holidayed at Hinchinbrook Island Resort.

One busy Sunday I was unable to escape the resort during the day. Sales/Marketing representatives from the now defunct Ansett Airlines, a national airline arrived by seaplane that afternoon to conduct a familiarization of the resort, visits that were regular procedures by airlines or tourist operators to enable an assessment of the resort and what it had to offer to the potential clients.

Exhausted after a busy week, I felt I’d talked enough, smiled enough to last me two lifetimes. I wanted to become a hermit, even if only for one night. Rarely, if ever, did I take time-out for myself. Because the airline representatives were staying for two days and nights, I excused myself from dining with them the first evening of their visit. With fingers crossed, and a white lie formed, I confessed that I had "paperwork to catch up on”, promising I’d dine with them the following evening. Finally, I fled the madding crowd and the restaurant at 7.30 pm, returning to my abode for the first time since early morning.

Relieved and weary, I climbed the spiral staircase to my open-plan bedroom. Without turning on the lights, I discarded my clothes before reaching to turn on the television. I'd not watched television for months. Reaching to switch on a wall light next to the television set from the corner of my eye I noticed movement on my bed. I turned and discovered "George", the 18-foot long python that had been named by my staff! I’d never set eyes on "George" before that night, although I’d been told many stories about him. To say I wasn't thrilled to meet him up, close and personal, is an understatement! He definitely was the wrong “George” to find lounging on my bed! (Where’s Clooney when you need him)?

I froze,unable to move or think. Blasphemous words and worse (but appropriate) issued rapidly from my mouth.

In shock, I stumbled about looking for the clothes only moments before I’d abandoned! Locating a long t-shirt, I grabbed "Ruska", my twelve-year old ginger cat. He was a house cat, rarely wandering outside other than for his daily ablutions. I placed Ruska into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I then rushed down the spiral staircase, my feet barely touching the stairs!

I scrambled along the rough track to Ted's cabin, calling out in a strangled voice, “Ted! Ted! Snake! Snake!”

Ted appeared, laughing, an affliction that continued all the way to my house. I followed up the rear scolding (and cursing), telling him it wasn't funny.

“George” in all his massive glory was still squirming and slithering over my bed when we arrived!

Gripping a broom, I was ready for combat! Ted’s enjoyment continued unabated.

"Get the camera! Get the camera!" Ted spluttered.

Using all the descriptive language I could muster, I informed him the @#*#$@# camera was in my @#*#$@# office over at the @#*#$@# restaurant, (you get the general idea of the state of my mood, I'm sure) and that there was no way I was leaving while “George” insisted on being my house guest - an uninvited, unwanted house guest!

Our lively exchange continued for minutes that seemed like hours; me, shouting at Ted, and Ted laughing hilariously at my panic and distress. As “George” tried to slide under my bed, my shouts became more frantic and much louder.

Eventually, Ted grabbed "George". Manhandling the monstrous reptile, Ted flung it off my deck to the bushes and rocks below. I looked on, a trembling mess.

Weeks later, I spent a night on the mainland. Returning to the island the following day, Ruska was missing. Broken- hearted, I never saw Ruska again. To this day, lovingly he remains in my thoughts.

The mistake we made was not transporting "George" by boat to another side of the island, far, far away. A lesson well-learned; a lesson I wish I'd never had to learn. Everything appears easier and clearer in retrospect.

If I've told this story before, please forgive me...you've probably forgotten it, anyway! Just a refresher!

Painting by me of Orchid Beach on Hinchinbrook Island...the main beach of the resort at Cape Richards.

WIPE THOSE TEARS FROM YOUR EYES!

2010-02-17T16:13:00.000-08:00

Other than stubbing a toe, slamming a door on a finger or peeling onions, there are many things that cause a monsoon to emanate from my eyes! A song; a sad movie; a happy movie; a book; animal documentaries; man’s inhumanity to man; man’s inhumanity to animals: the soaring voice of Pavarotti; a beautiful sunset or sunrise; some trips down memory lane; an unexpected kindness; insensitive remarks; anger; frustrating people; inspirational people and moments. The list goes on and on - at this rate, it sounds like I’m crying all the time! There's never a drought around here!

Of course, movies such as “Out of Africa”, “The Way We Were”, “Message in a Bottle”, “P.S. I Love You” and “The Notebook” (also, the endings of “Breakfast At Tiffany’s” and “Roman Holiday”, naturally; both I’ve seen a million times), for instance, cause an avalanche of tears - no light precipitation there; more like the “wet season”!

With clarity, I remember the first time I watched “Imitation of Life” starring Lana Turner, Sandra Dee and Susan Kohner. The year was 1959. Mum took me along to see it one Tuesday night…a school night. Once my tears began to flow, they couldn’t be dammed. (It was I who was damned!) It was such a sad, sad movie! Walking home, I cried all the way, still distressed! I think that was the last time my mother took me along with her to see a movie! She wasn’t game to attempt it again! I’m sure you, like me, have slunk out of the movies desperately trying to hide red, swollen eyes! Unfortunately, I viewed both “Beaches” and “The Horse Whisperer” at afternoon matinees!! I’ll never fall into that trap again! Hang on! I did! Back in September, I went along to a morning matinee to view “Mao’s Last Dancer”. All was going well until a scene in which his parents arrived to watch him perform with the Houston Ballet Company! That moment was enough to open my floodgates!

My Nana, who was a gentle, calm lady of Scottish heritage always said: “We, in this family pee out of our eyes!” Oh! Dear! I fear that is true…in my case, anyway!

Watching Olympic skaters Evgeni Plushenko and Evan Lysacek perform their stunning routines in the men’s figure skating definitely left me misty-eyed and in awe. Their performances made me speechless (something that doesn’t happen often even though I live alone – I do talk to myself – often (and answer) – and to my two furry rascals equally as often – and they answer me as well…so it’s a pretty gabby household on all accounts, but you know what I mean!

Plushenko performed to “Concierto de Aranjuez” by Spanish composer, Joaquin Rodrigo. This concerto alone causes me goose-bumps whenever I listen to it. It’s been a favourite of mine for many, many years.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8LL1x6J2rU&feature=related

Where was I? Oh, yes…tears. Back to onions…wipe those tears from your eyes…use a very sharp knife for chopping onions, peel under water (the onions, not you), or store onions in the crisper – that works in stopping the flow of tears - or have someone else chop them!

Onion & Artichoke Salad:

3 red (Spanish) onions, finely-sliced
75g (1/3rd cup) caster sugar
1/3 cup red wine vinegar
400g can artichoke hearts in brine, drained and quartered

Place onions in a bowl, cover with boiling water and stand 10 minutes. Drain, rinse under cold water and drain on absorbent paper.

Combine sugar, vinegar, 1 teaspoon salt and cracked black pepper to taste in a bowl. Stir to dissolve sugar. Add drained onions. Stir to combine and stand for at least 2 hours. Stir in artichoke quarters, cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.

Beef with Onions (Chinese Cuisine):

500g (1lb) round, blade or skirt steak
½ teaspoon bicarb soda
3 tablespoons hot water
3 teaspoons cornflour
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon Chinese wine or dry sherry
1 egg white
2 large onions
Peanut oil
2 tablespoons beef stock

Freeze meat until just firm enough to cut into thin slices; cut slices into strips about 1cm (1/2 inch) wide and 4cm (1.5 inches) long; put into a bowl. Dissolve bicarb soda in hot water; pour over meat; knead or beat with chopsticks or fork until meat absorbs the liquid. Leave overnight or at least 4 hours.

Combine the cornflour, soy sauce, wine or sherry; lightly beat egg shit and mix in well. Quarter the onions; cut into quarters crosswise into halves; separate the layers.

When needed, drain the beef strips; add to the cornflour mixture; stir well. Meanwhile, heat enough oil in wok or pan to deep fry the beef. Add the beef strips, a few at a time; fry for 1 minute, remove; drain. Pour oil from pan, leaving about 2 tablespoons. Add the onions; stir-fry until tender, but still crisp. Add the beef strips; fry, stirring for another minute. Stir in stock; cook, stirring for another half minute. Serve with rice – or noodles.

Stuffed Onions: (Or Stuff the Onions)!

4 medium onions; peeled
2 tablespoons honey
1/2 cup finely-chopped walnuts
½ cup wheat germ or bread crumbs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1/4 cup chopped Italian parsley for garnish

Preheat oven to 176C (350F). Slice about a half inch off the top of each onion. Hollow out a bowl shaped space to hold about 1/4 cup filling. Slice enough off the bottom to let onions stand upright. Combine remaining ingredients, except parsley. Place about 1/3 cup of water around onions. Bake 30 minutes, adding water, 1/4 cup at a time if needed. Stuff onions. Bake another 30 minutes or until softened. Garnish with parsley Serve warm.

TO DREAM THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM…

2010-02-14T15:44:00.000-08:00

The other day when being busy at not being busy while busily reading a book, at my leisure I worked out that I probably read, watch, hear and catch glimpses of the world’s news on a daily average of four hours! It would be similar for many of us, I suppose. Every which way we look, we’re inundated with news – the good, the bad and the ugly - and there’s far too much of the latter two!

However, amongst all the mayhem and horrors are the positive, inspirational stories inordinately abounding with goodness, bravery and empathy. Individuals reaching for the stars, fulfilling their dreams, win or lose; some pushing themselves beyond the point of human endurance. Unselfish actions and random acts of kindness touch our hearts, often making us question our own values in life.

Unique individuals like Moira Kelly of the Children’s First Foundation whose unfaltering love and support of separated conjoined twins, Krishna and Trishna, together with the work she’s done elsewhere through the years is humbling to a mere mortal such as me. The powerful team at Melbourne’s Royal Children’s Hospital led by neurosurgeon, Wirginia Maixner, are the real “celebrities” of this world in which we flounder.

And let’s not overlook our young competitors in the Winter Olympics being held at Vancouver – Brittney Cox, the 15 year old mogul skier; 15 year old snowboarder Scott James and 16 year old figure skater Cheltzie Lee. Sure, it would be nice if they won a medal, but what’s more important is their dedication in following their dreams.

Let none of us forget our warrior of the high seas, Jessica Watson, either. This brave, adventurous young woman is attempting something that is beyond the imagination of the majority. I follow her blog, and each day I’m inspired by this 16 year old. She is an extraordinary young lady. We should all be proud of her. Get behind her; barrack loudly! When many of her peers are out binge drinking, causing harm and havoc, not only to others, but to themselves, as well, Jessica is proof the future is in good hands!

It's so easy to become weighed down by the heavy burdens the world thrusts upon us. Also, it's easy to become cynical, if we allow ourselves to be. We must train ourselves to look beyond all the evil-doers, and open our hearts and minds to those inspirational people who each moment of each day selflessly give themselves to the betterment of others.

We should learn to give praise where and when praise is due. We should not allow ourselves to fall into traps filled with derision and harsh criticisms.

Unfortunately, many find the latter easier to do than the former!

P.S. Sketch done by me a couple of years ago.

THOSE WERE THE DAYS, MY FRIENDS! (Recipe included)

2010-02-09T15:15:00.000-08:00

Most of us hold onto fond memories of the towns in which we spent our tender years.

My late brother and I were raised in Gympie, a regional town a couple of hours north of Brisbane, the capital of Queensland. Times were much simpler when I was a child. In those days of “old” locking one’s house was an unknown; when walking everywhere was the norm, even at night; a time when soapboxes careered freely and wildly down the neighbourhood streets. Gympie is a town known for its hills! Computers were creations only in the imaginations of science fiction writers and movie makers. Reality TV was the spanking new black and white set in front of which one sat glued keenly watching episodes of “Wanted: Dead or Alive” while drooling over Josh Randall played by a deliciously young, sexy Steve McQueen!

After spring rains, my brother, our Nana and I, armed with buckets, often would stroll through town, and then across the river to the Southside to gather dew-covered field mushrooms, always under the disinterested brown-eyed gaze of nonchalant cattle grazing on lush green paddocks fringing the verdant banks of the Mary River.

Frequently, with an empty jam tin converted into a “billy”**, long strands of strong cotton, homemade hand nets and pieces of raw meat, my brother and I headed off to the nearest waterhole to catch “lobbies” aka freshwater crayfish. Eagerly we’d scamper home to cook, and then devour our haul while planning and anticipating our next adventure.

** (For non-Aussies – it’s commonly accepted that the term "billycan" is derived from the large cans used for transporting bully beef on Australia-bound ships in the early days of settlement, or during exploration of the outback, which after use, were modified for boiling water over a fire.
In Australia, the billy has come to symbolise the spirit of exploration of the outback. To boil the billy most often means to make tea. "Billy Tea" is the name of a popular brand of tea long sold in Australian supermarkets. Billies feature in many of well-known poet/writer Henry Lawson's stories and poems. Banjo Paterson's most famous of many references to the billy is in the first verse and chorus of ’Waltzing Matilda’: "And he sang as he watched and waited 'til his billy boiled...")

After school and at weekends our time was filled with many activities. Saturday afternoon matinees that we never missed, Brownies/Girl Guides, Cubs/Scouts, piano lessons, cowboys and Indians in the backyard; my brother and his mates firing arrows at and lynching my dolls on branches of an orange tree; on the sidelines; me, in tears, fruitlessly screaming at them (that’s big brothers for you!); building tree houses and cubby houses, running bare-footed and carefree. Sing-a-longs around the piano; Nana relating tales of the “olden days”; window-shopping on Saturday evenings as we strutted in tune to the Scottish Pipers' Band who proudly wore their melodiously swaying kilts while expertly playing and marching through the main street of Gympie (Mary Street) to the town's Memorial Gates; burning our fingers on hot chips wrapped in newspaper from Nick’s Café; joy at finding that one final crunchy chip hidden in the folds of the paper.

After spending my teenage years enjoying weekends and holidays spent at the sunny Sunshine Coast’s Noosa Heads the bright city lights temptingly beckoned. Succumbing, I left the “nest” a few months shy of my 21st birthday.

Those were the days, my friends!

Let’s sit back and reminiscence under a shady tree while munching on:

Crostini with Stuffed Mushrooms:

Remove stalks from 12 small button mushrooms; chop stalks finely. Set aside with caps.

Heat 60ml (1/4 cup) olive oil in frying pan; sautė 1 medium red onion, chopped finely and 2 crushed garlic cloves, for 5 minutes. Stir in ¾ cup wholemeal breadcrumbs; cook 3 minutes or until crisp. Add 2 tablespoons chopped Italian parsley (flat-leaf), 125g (4oz) finely-sliced prosciutto, ½ cup freshly-grated Parmesan cheese, mushroom stalks, salt and freshly-ground black pepper; mix well.

Spoon some filling into each mushroom cap; drizzle with olive oil; place them in lightly-oiled ovenproof dish. Bake in a preheated 150C (302F) oven for 20 to 30 minutes.

To Make Crostini: using a 2.5cm biscuit cutter, cut out rounds from a sliced loaf of Italian bread. Heat some olive oil in frying pan; fry the bread rounds over low heat until they’re golden on both sides. Set aside on paper towels to drain.

To assemble: spread a little patė (if desired) on each crostini, arrange a stuffed mushroom on top; press down to secure (not too hard, though)! Drizzle with olive oil; serve garnished with Italian parsley.

Enjoy the memories! And the crostini!

REMORSE IS A HEARTLESS, UNREPENTANT PROTAGANIST!

2010-02-07T17:23:00.000-08:00

It’s with feelings of immense remorse that I sit here writing this post, but I shall endeavour to forge onwards and upwards…Per ardua ad astra.

My latest love affair commenced on Christmas Day; one that unexpectedly, though pleasantly, continued through the ensuing days and weeks into January. Not often am I so openly expansive about my personal life, but at times it helps to share with others. This is one of those “times”. Utterly beyond my control, I lost my heart to a special character who, with little warning, entered my life; albeit too briefly. Henceforth, however, his presence shall remain long in my memory. For those few precious weeks he shared my life, my bed; almost all of my waking hours and thoughts. With the passing of each day his grip upon my heart grew stronger and stronger until one fateful day in late January his personal “Angel of Death” swooped down, whisking him away to a place unknown.

Like a deluge, a torrent of tears cascaded down my face. My heart wrenched at his loss; at my loss. My days grew dispiritedly long; my nights despairingly longer.

It’s with heart-felt gratitude that I embrace deservedly acclaimed author Colin Dexter for introducing me to the complicated, intriguing machinations of the mind and life of “Chief Inspector Morse”. Of course, like a myriad others, I fell under “Morse’s” spell (expertly portrayed by John Thaw) in the television series, but Dexter’s skilful ability as a dexterous wordsmith and crafty story-teller transports the reader far beyond the realms of television. Now I look around me like a child lost, in a quandary wondering what next I’ll read. Who, pray tell, will be the future plunderer of my heart? There is room enough on my bedside table for another, or Morse…oops…I mean “more”!

My Goodness!

2010-02-07T17:01:00.000-08:00

I've just noticed I last posted in 2008!! I'll go and sit in the corner!

Where has the time gone? And have I done anything worthwhile to report? Give me a moment or three while I think about that! I'm sure I have somewhere amongst all thos lost months!

It's still raining here. We received 400mm (16-inches) in an eight-hour period on Saturday. The most rain this area has received since the 1880s! Wow! It came down in bucket loads, large buckets! I don't mind though. I love the rain and I love being snuggled up inside with a good book and my two furry rascally mates! (Of the four-legged variety, of course...as depicted above!

I suggest that you all hop onto Jessica Watson's Blog...the brave 16-year old Aussie lass who is attempting to sail around the world, solo. Brave young lass and I wish her well! http://www.youngestround.blogspot.com/ I know I couldn't do what she doing...I'm not brave enough to even think of doing it!

A BIT OF STILLNESS AMONGST THE EXCITEMENT!

2008-08-11T22:30:00.000-07:00

I'm exhausted already and there's still 12 days to go! Yes! I'm referring to the Olympics. Every event I watch, I'm competing along with the competitors! I feel their pride and I applaud their achievements, whether win or lose. The long road they've traveled to get to this point has been a difficult one full of early mornings and endless days of hard training.

To all those fine young people (those who are drug-free),I bow to your determination.

If I was wearing a hat, I would take it off to all those fine competitors.

My absence I'll have to put down to all the training I've been doing - it's taken up a lot of my time lately! Now, you'll have to excuse me while I go back to the parallel bars!

I'm sharing a couple of my paintings with you - I did them between laps of the pool!

A TASTE OF THE GOOD LIFE TO WHET YOUR APPETITE!

2008-06-27T18:33:00.000-07:00

I don't know what's going on!!!! My life is full of social engagements at present, either here at my home or elsewhere at the homes of friends - or sitting on sidewalks sipping hot chocolate, lattes or cappuccinos! Life can be so hard at times, but someone's got to do it!

However, I did get time to complete the painting above, commence another together with a drawing, both of which I hope to finish in the not too distant future.

Last weekend was filled with the fun company of a circle of friends. And I didn't escape the throng mid-week or at week's end, either. Blame it on the moon!

Yesterday, I was invited by a local chocolate shop owner to visit her premises to taste-test some new delicacies of the choccie variety to hit her shelves. I ask you - how could I possibly decline such an invitation? While sipping on hot chocolate, I chatted up the artist in residence in the next door gallery and those at surrounding al fresco tables! Needless to say, I had to try many chocolates to come to a definitive decision - ummmm - I'm still not sure! I may have to re-visit and test some more, methinks!

There was a method to the proprietor's reasoning. She wants me to write something about her glorious little oasis in my next food article for the local "rag". A chore that I find is not a chore at all considering the side benefits! I don't mind being on her agenda - would you?

I have a friend visiting overnight, down from the sunny shores of Noosa Heads. We've not caught up for a while and he's been a dear friend for many a good year - and bad!

"Feed the man beef" the saying orders, so dutifully I shall oblige. I've a juicy, tender-looking whole beef rib fillet sitting a-waiting in my fridge for me to do decadently delicious things to it! Forgive me if I set your taste buds a-drooling, but I thought I'd share this recipe with you.

The red wine has been chosen - a couple of bottles of Shiraz - Rosemount and Penfolds - with a couple of back-ups of other vineyards - just in case!

ROAST BEEF STUFFED WITH SPINACH, PINE-NUTS & FETA

Pre-heat oven to 200C. Using sharp knife, butterfly whole piece of beef fillet by cutting nearly all the way through the meat, lengthways, then open it out with several long incisions. Lightly flatten beef. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in pan over medium heat. Add 3-4 tablespoons pine-nuts, 3-4 garlic cloves, finely chopped, 1 firmly-packed cup of young spinach leaves and 3-4 shallots, finely chopped. Cook for 2 minutes until the spinach has wilted. Transfer mixture to a chopping board and chop roughly. In a bowl, combine spinach mixture with 100g feta, 2 cups firmly-packed fresh breadcumbs and enough liquid beef stock to just bind the mixture.

Press mixture along one edge of the beef. Roll up beef tightly, encasing the filling; secure, at intervals with kitchen string. Heat a little more oil in pan over high heat; add beef and brown well on all sides. Transfer to a baking dish and roast for 25 minutes for rare, 35 minutes for medium or 45 minutes for well done. Remove from oven, cover with foil and rest for 10 minutes before carving. Meanwhile make a rich beef gravy adding a splash or two of red wine to the stock during the making thereof. Serve sliced roast beef with your favourite vegetables. Pour the wine and start eating and sipping - the rest will follow automatically!

Have a great weekend everyone. I think mine is going to be a lot of fun - as long as I don't look at or read the news. All around us these days is gloom and doom. I, for one, refuse to be dragged down into the cauldron of despair.

Let's all look on the bright side of life!

REFLECTIONS AND CONSTANTS

2008-06-13T20:33:00.000-07:00

Some people enter our lives and stay for the duration. Others stay long enough only for a brief moment before leaving. Albeit a short visit, some leave an indelible impression, others not. Some leave without hint nor warning. Some give a reason why. A few we willingly choose to walk away from without wasting a backward glance, feeling happiness or relief, sometimes both, that they are no longer a part of our lives.

Those who have helped forged loyal friendships and memories are dearly cherished. Anticipation for those yet to enter one's circle of existence is a part of life's wonderful mysteries. And it's a marvelous inevitability that this chain of new acquaintances will not be broken until the day we float off into the unknown blue yonder. (Well, in my and my readers' cases, anyway!)

The choices one makes of who enters, who remains, who is not welcome and who leaves one's circle of friends is purely up to one's self - to the individual. Isn't that a wonderful power to possess- particularly if recognised and utilised?

Last week, a family - an extended family came into my life unexpectedly - though it was from my own instigation. One thing is certain, they shall now be a part of who I am from this day forward, and I, a part of them.

You see, I found my long-lost, but always-known-about half-brother! I'm not an orphan after all!

However, I'm never alone, nor am I an orphan when I have my two furry rascals as pictured above by my side!

VERY, VERY, VERY SLACK! I KNOW!

2008-06-11T16:22:00.001-07:00

Time - sometimes our friend, other times our enemy! I have no idea where time has gone so far this year. Already we are mid-way through June and here am I posting for the first time in 2008! I guess I've lost all my regular, good-hearted readers and shall have to begin at the beginning once more!

I apologise for my absence, but I have been very busy with this and that and a bit more of that!

As you can see from above, some of my precious time has been occupied with painting in acrylics and I thought I'd show you a couple of my completed "masterpieces", just to prove to you that, in fact, I haven't had idle fingers or hands!

Where do I start in telling you what I've been doing. I think I will broach the subject/s slowly so as not to inundate you with too much information! Suffice to say all is well in my neck of the woods - the gloriously lush, green woods in which I dwell. My mountain greenery and sanctuary has benefited from much welcomed rain of late, so everything is standing sparkling tall and bright in thanks to Nature's gift.

I promise I shall not be so slothful in my jottings from this moment on. I do hope someone pays me a visit. I have missed all you wonderful folk and hope all is well in your respective lives.

The fear of not remembering how to do all of this set in for a moment or three - but I guess it's kind of like riding a bike!

Cheers,
Lee

And The Party Continues....

2007-12-26T20:09:00.000-08:00

...showing no signs of ending!

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. I did! And the celebrations continue here "Down Under". I'm not sure when it all will end, or, for that matter, if I'll survive! But I come from pretty strong stock, so I won't give up or in! Time enough for sleep later!

My left-over visitor has snuck off to the pub to replenish the supplies, so I've taken this opportunity to sneak in here to catch up with you. If I was sensible (and I'm not), I'd be trying to catch a nap. However, the local liquor store is only a few moments away, so I really don't have time to have a worthwhile "catch-up" sleep!

Christmas Day was a bonanza of guests, food, champagne, wine and goodwill. I think it was only a couple of days ago, but as I've lost track of time and days, I really have no idea. I do know I had and am still having a marvellous time.

Now the run-down to New Year's Eve is upon us all. Although I'm sure I still have enough food within my household to last until New Year's Eve 2009, I'll be doing a run to the butcher on New Year's Eve to pick up some good, thick, juicy steaks as I'm planning a small barbecue. What's New Year's Eve without a good old Aussie barbie, I ask you? I might even do a "Paul Hogan" and throw a few "prawns/shrimp on the barbie", just because I can!

My two cats have just sighed, given up and decided to go with the flow. I think I've done similar as I know I will have no peace until around 2nd January 2008...not that I'm complaining, mind you! 'Tis all lots of fun and good cheer.

After a fairly erratic, and at times, a downright annoying 2007, I'm quite happy to bid it farewell with a loud"bang", and to be able to optimistically look forward to 2008. I have a gut feeling 2008 has a lot of good things in store for me, and I hope, likewise, for all of you.

Towards the end of next week, I'll have to take off my party hat, hide away the whistles, burst the balloons and burn the streamers, as it will then be time to get serious...head down and bum up to describe it with clarity...work will be beckoning, and I shall have to heed the call!

Even though 2007 had its "moments", amongst those wasted times that I have since chosen to forget, I did have many good times (and the good times were in the majority), I was fortunate to meet some interesting, very nice, honest and "straight-from-the-shoulder" new friends. I bade farewell to some, but in the long and short of it, I gained more than I lost. And one can't ask for more than that, can one?

Here on the mountain and elsewhere in Australia from all reports, except for Western Australia that is, we've experienced a wonderfully cool Christmas season. Rain fell on and off throughout Boxing Day, making it gloriously cozy here in my cabin. I do so love rainy days...and nights.

I wish each and everyone of you a prosperous, healthy, peaceful and happy New Year. I hope 2008 is kind in every way to one and all (including me!).

Happy New Year!

A Ho! Ho! Ho! And a He! He! He! Ha!

2007-12-09T06:03:00.000-08:00

Let's feast our eyes a while before attacking the repast on the "Day"! I'm whetting our appetites in readiness.

An Aussie Christmas is not Christmas without a collation of fresh seafood, in my opinion. Long gone are the days when I slaved for hours over a hot stove to produce the "traditional" fare to hungry hordes around my Christmas table. A "traditional" feast handed down by our Scottish, Irish and, in some cases, but not mine, English forefathers that is so, so wrong for our Christmas temperatures!

I've friends coming over on Christmas morning for drinks and tasty hors-d'oeuvres. Some will be staying on for a leisurely luncheon, which shall linger long into the afternoon through to dusk. No doubt by now you've guessed I'm having a scrumptious banquet of succulent seafood to be followed by a mixed berry Pavlova, a Sacha Torte, and of course, over to the side a rich fruit cake (which I've already made and have been "topping up" over the past few weeks), just in case we have any room left while we sip on coffee and liqueurs! Oh! Did I mention a variety of dark chocolate truffles and chocolate-coated ginger that will accompany the coffee?

As usual, I've broken my promise to myself. I had planned not to plan anything for Christmas, however the fever surreptitiously grabbed hold of me when I wasn't looking and was weak of mind and will. The above is the result!

It's been a year of ups and downs, more downs than I needed or wanted, I think. So I figured, "what the hell", I may as well go out with a bang, forgetting the bad (and those who caused it!), concentrating on the good with my eyes, heart and mind keenly on the future.

I'm starting a new job shortly, so that's a huge plus. With that in mind and on hand, my time for blogging will be very limited, at least for a while.

As much as I tried to escape pre-Christmas celebrations, I have failed and am failing miserably (read "happily", I guess!). Already I've succumbed to four celebratory gatherings with more to come over the next couple of weeks. And I've not even mentioned New Year yet! There's life in this old bird yet, it would appear! Ask me again around the second day of 2008 and I may answer differently!

All is good in this neck of the woods. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas. I hope you have a wonderful time with your families and friends. And may 2008 be kind to us all, bringing peace, good health ,and a little prosperity thrown in for good measure.

I'll leave you with a few fine words. When you hear the corks a-popping at the stroke of midnight farewelling 2007 while heralding in 2008, know that amongst that sound will be some of mine! "Here's to your top, here's to your middle, may you get a "liddle!"'

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and days of Auld Lang Syne.

Chorus: For Auld Lang Syne, my dear,
for Auld Lang Syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet
for Auld Lang Syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

Chorus

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd.
Sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak' a right gude willie-waught,
For auld lang syne.

An Irregular Visit!

2007-11-29T15:47:00.000-08:00

I admit to the error of my ways! I've been missing in action! I apologise for my absence and thank you all for your good wishes in the meantime, and thanks to those who passed on your very nice comments for my birthday. I had a wonderful day, a wonderful weekend, actually. A friend came to visit for a few days and I had a group over on the day for a long, leisurely, totally misbehaved birthday celebratory lunch! We grazed over a table laden with delicious fare, tossed words and laughter back and forth. Food and wine, however, wasn't tossed around other than down our respective throats! I certainly proved I was still alive and kicking as did my guests!

Time has been my enemy. I've been busy with this and that and a bit more of that.

I'm working on a fairly large painting at the moment that needs constant care and attention. Together with answering the call of my creative juices, many other important chores have needed my attention.

The mountain has received some much welcome rain over the past few weeks. Daily I gaily watch as my vegetable plants reach out for the sun, their stems and leaves growing stronger by the minute. All are looking healthy with the promise of future home-grown, healthy produce to be heartily and thankfully consumed. Nature is an awesome phenomenon. It's so humbling.

David Beckham visited our fair shores this past week and proved what a wonderful young man he is. Some of our footballers, of all codes, would be well-advised to take a leaf or two out of his book. I'm definitely a fan of his. His professionalism and good manners during interviews and his behaviour when mingling with the crowds were impeccable. With all the pressures of his "celebrity-status" and the football field upon him, he stands tall.

The above painting and drawing were done for fun.

Thanks again, everyone....I must away to the woods. Duty calls!

Time To Take A Breather!

2007-10-26T17:47:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a break from blogging for a couple of weeks. There are a lot of things I have to attend to and never seem to have or find the time to do so. This, too, of course, is the start of the "silly season" for us all with the run-down/lead-up to Christmas.

In the words of Douglas McArthur, "I shall return", or later in the words of the now governor of California, "I'll be back!"

Before I disappear o'er yon horizon, I'll leave you with a couple of recipes to tempt your taste buds.

Shed no tears, for all too soon, I'll reappear to tease and torment you!

Beef Stroganoff

1 1/2 lb. lean beef (rump or sirloin work well)
3 Tablespoons butter
1 cup sliced mushrooms
1 large onion, sliced
2 Tablespoons flour
2 cups beef bouillon or consomme
2 Tablespoons tomato paste
1 tsp. dry mustard (or Dijon mustard)
3 Tablespoons dry sherry or brandy
2/3 cup sour cream

Remove all fat and gristle from beef; cut it into narrow strips about 2 1/2 in. long, 3/4 in. wide and between 1/4 and 1/2 in. thick. Dust strips with salt and pepper; set them aside for about 2 hours, but not in the refrigerator. When you are ready to prepare the dish, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a heavy skillet and saute the mushrooms until tender. Then remove them and set aside. In the same butter, saute the onion until brown with a little crushed garlic; set aside. Add the last tablespoon of butter. When it is hot put in the strips of beef and sear them on both sides, but leave them rare. Remove them and set aside. Sprinkle the flour into the pan and blend it with the remaining butter, browning it well. Then slowly add the beef bouillon, stirring well to form a smooth gravy. Next add the sherry (or brandy), tomato paste, and dry mustard (or Dijon mustard), blending well. Now return the meat, mushrooms and onions to the pan and let the whole thing simmer very slowly over the lowest possible heat for about 20 minutes. About 5 min. before serving add the sour cream and blend thoroughly.

Double Chocolate Brownies

125g chopped chocolate
200g butter (unsalted)
1 cup of flour plain (sifted)
2 tablespoons of dutch cocoa (sifted)
2 cups of caster sugar
1/4 teaspoon of baking powder (sifted)
4 eggs
Extra 100g chocolate chopped into chunks to add to the prepared mixture
Extra cocoa or icing sugar for dusting over brownies before serving.

Preheat the oven to 180c. Lightly grease a 20x 30cm rectangular cake tin and line with baking paper. Melt the butter and chocolate in a glass bowl over a medium sized pot with a small amount of water simmering (not boiling), keep stirring until melted smooth. In a bowl combine the cocoa, flour, sugar and baking powder. Add the melted chocolate mixture and the eggs one at a time, stirring well between each. Pour into the prepared pan and poke in the extra pieces of chocolate into the brownie mixture. Bake for 45 minutes or until cooked when tested with a skewer, the skewer probably won't come out clean, however the mixture should easily form into a ball when rolled between your fingers, not crumble. Once cooked, remove from the oven and cool on a wire rack. Slice the brownies into squares and dust with cocoa or icing sugar.

And just for the fun of it, here's a bit of nonsensical verse! (I must have had nothing more important to do that day!)

Nursery Crhymes!

Jack and Jill didn’t go up the hill

To fetch a pail of water

Tho’ they thought they oughta

Jack had other things on his mind

So Jill followed close behind

To see what she could find

At the top Jack looked around

Much to his surprise he found

Our Jill had arrived before him

And was lying prone on the ground

Humpty Dumpty

Had a lot of gall

Humpty Dumpty was after a brawl

When the crowd left

He became quite bereft

In finding himself all alone

And all that Humpty could do was groan

Little Bo-Peep has had no sleep

And doesn’t know when she’ll get any

When she left home

She forgot her comb

Now she has tangled hair of mahogany

Jerry found a little clam

When the tide was low

And every time that Jerry looked

On a rock he surely kicked his toe

Airy fairy out on the prairie

Strong does the wind blow

Where nobody dwells

And there are no hotels

And definitely no maids in a row!

When Jimmy Buffett

Went to the banquet

He couldn’t get his way

He picked up a cider

And felt like an outsider

He wasn’t having a very good day

The little fluffy friend above will watch over you while I'm away! The original pencil drawing by me hangs, framed, upon my wall.

A Time To Vent...A Time He Went!

2007-10-22T15:22:00.001-07:00

Outback Vagabond

Stoically he traverses outback tracks unknown
With swag and blackened billy he wanders alone
Sun-bleached hair skin of leather wiry yet robust
Shielding his weary eyes from swirling red dust

Through the shimmering haze ahead a dry creek
As nightfall draws near the outcome looks bleak
Taking long strides determinedly he pushes on
Then he spies dancing brolgas beside a billabong

A restless sun peeps o’er horizon a new day dawns
The swagman stokes his campfire stretches yawns
His purpose lies at the end of an errant track ahead
What awaits fills him with pain sorrow and dread

(Paintings and poem by me)

I've been very remiss, this I admit. Time, or lack thereof, has been my enemy. Mix that together with a lack of motivation, what do you end up with?

Also, a friend has formed a habit of popping in on me every second day and it's beginning to drive me a little crazy, crazier than I normally am!

From reading my posts over the past few months, you may have gleaned that I enjoy my own privacy and space. I'm not one, and never have been, to "drop" in on people unannounced. And hate it when they do that to me. I don't need to be around people all the time, or have them around me. I'm starting to feel claustrophobic....and cranky!

Without offending the "offender", how do I explain my feelings to him? The silly part is, I'm being "offended" by his continual appearance at my door, and here I am feeling hesitant of offending him? I find myself with a perpetual knot in my stomach every time I hear a car drive up this private, one-way lane, hoping I don't hear a car door open and shut!

One of the things that really is starting to get under my skin and annoy the hell out of me is that those who know me well, know and understand my ways. This knowledge is known to my "offender", and yet he believes he has special dispensation!

Sorry, mate! You don't!

How do I let him know that he's beginning to (or has) step over the mark by appearing every second day on my doorstep? I don't want to hurt his feelings nor sever our friendship. He, his wife and I are good friends. We three get on well and always enjoy the special lunches we share together every now and then. I think his wife is glad to have him out of her hair for a while, but he's starting to get into mine and under my skin!!! I have to break him of this bad habit, without breaking our friendship. It's not my desire or want to hurt anyone's feelings.

Help! Here I am fearful of hurting his feelings, while mine are being angered and ignored!

2007-10-17T16:30:00.000-07:00

Out of the blue yesterday, I received an email from someone I’d worked with many, many years ago in my first job. We’ve not seen each other since I left Gympie to live and work in Brisbane all those years ago (stories I’ve been relating in “Reaching Out to the City Lights”….which I must complete one of these days!). Vicki, the sender of the surprise email, for the past eleven and a half years was Personal Assistant to our recently retired Queensland Premier, Peter Beattie. See, I do have friends and acquaintances across the political divide! Tracking me down through mutual friends, Vicki imparted some sad news to me. A co-worker from those halcyon, innocent, naïve and simple days of our youth passed away. Tears flowed freely and unashamedly down my cheeks as I read and recalled the happy, fun times we all had shared.

On the one hand, my entrance into the wide, wonderful, grown-up “working world” was full of eager anticipation and bravado, but on the other hand, I approached it tentatively, with concealed inner tremors. A whole new life, filled with unknown adventures and promises opened up for me.

I left high school mid-Junior year without completing the final examination. Much to my geometry and algebra teacher, Mr. Martin’s mixed emotions of delight and disappointment. His lessons bored me. I must admit I was a disruptive student under his supervision. I wasn’t rude, but I had a bushel load of uncontrollable mischievous behaviour when in his presence. Consistently, I just scraped through any Maths A assignments. "As long as I passed" was my motto. In my other subjects I was always up with the first two or three in class, reveling in such subjects as English, History, Geography and the commercial subjects. However, when it came to algebra and geometry my interest flew out the window in a puff. To prove a point and to keep Mr. Martin on his toes, I believe upon reflection, I decided to knuckle down and study. For my last examination before the major Junior trial, I received 95% for the Maths A exam. Jimmy Martin’s “delight” was over my result, crowing, “I knew you had it in you…all you had to do was put your head down and concentrate. I knew it!”

Accepting his jubilant, congratulatory praise, I smiled at him, ‘You’ll never get me now!” My cry was in reference to his “little black book” in which my name filled its pages with enough detention dates to have carried me through until this day! That was his disappointment, I'm sure! Standing facing each other, we smiled, shook hands and acknowledging a “draw” in our “battle”, we each went our separate way, he back to school, and me towards my future.

Dressed in a crisp blouse, sombre sweater and skirt, with lightly and carefully applied make-up, I entered the hallowed domain of Tozer and Jeffery, Solicitors, (now known as "Jeffery, Cuddighy & Joyce) to commence my new role as legal secretary on a Monday morning in late July. I was fifteen years old, a naïve innocent in an unknown world. With me I carried a vague idea solicitors had something to do with the law, however I was not deterred by my lack of worldly knowledge, a fact I kept fairly well hidden…I believed! For the first time, I earned money of my own. I felt like a queen! My first pay packet enabled me to purchase a moss green short-sleeved woolen jumper (sweater), a pair of shoes and a 45rpm record of Gene Krupa of all people! It was proof of my love of the drums and for the maestro who had changed drumming in the eyes of the world, I told myself as I hugged my new purchase. He who had drawn people’s focus to drumming and drummers like no others before him had been an idol of mine from when I was a very small child.

A little history for you to ingest and digest:

Sir Horace Tozer (1844-1916), solicitor and politician, was born on 23 April 1844 and baptized Horatio at Port Macquarie, New South Wales, son of Horatio Thomas Norris Tozer, chemist, and his wife Charlotte Winifred Amelia, née Croft. Educated at Newcastle and at Rev. W. H. Savigny's Collegiate School, Sydney. He was articled to James Malbon Thomson in Brisbane in 1862 and admitted as a solicitor of the Supreme Court of Queensland on 7 December 1867. The practice he established next year at Gympie soon flourished. A joint owner of mining leases, Tozer became an authority on mining law and was a member of the Gympie Mining Court; he conducted two mining appeals before the Privy Council, in London.

(Delving amongst some dusty, very old journals in what we named "the dungeon", a below-street level floor of the premises, I came across a thick, hard-bound ledger with hand-written, ink entries referring to James Nash, dated back in 1867-1868. James Nash, prospector, discovered gold in 1867 which put Gympie on the map as well as restoring the coffers of Queensland's treasury. I was thrilled with my own discovery. Years later I learned that all those historic, important journals and ledgers were dumped when interior renovations took place. Naturally, I was gob-smacked! They were important parts of Gympie's history, I believed...correctly!)

With my introduction to Tozer and Jeffery, came my introduction to Keith Brown, “Brownie” as he soon became affectionately known. To me, at that time, he was quite “old”, but in hindsight, he had not tipped the scales at forty years of age when I began working with him. Unconsciously, “Brownie” and I became drawn to each other. Perhaps it was because we were both Scorpios, with his birthday falling nine days before mine. He was, I guess, what is now known as a “Paralegal”, and then known as a “Legal Assistant”. “Brownie” also handled all taxation matters. Soon, I began doing all his dictation and kindred chores.

“Brownie” was generous of spirit, sporting a wicked sense of humour. Donning another robe and hat, he was one of the local professional photographers, taking photographs of weddings, special celebrations, etc., for the local paper, “The Gympie Times”, and on behalf of private contracts. Always in search of a subject and story to satisfy the newspaper’s requirements, we girls in the office soon became “Brownie’s” regular “models”. Barely a paper was published without one or more of us featuring on Page One, Two, Three, and/or wherever else a story and photograph could be placed.

His latest photographic efforts were displayed constantly in the window of Stalley’s Shoe Shop in Mary Street, the main street of Gympie, able to be purchased by the public, whether they were related to the subject or not! A fact I was to later to discover! A few of the local high school senior boys at the Christian Brothers’ College purchased photos of me and pinned said photographs up in their dorms at their boarding quarters! Quite an achievement, I suppose, considering I wasn't a Catholic! That was probably the first, and the last time I’ve ever been a “pin-up”!

I’ve always laid claim to the fact that “Brownie” was the first man I’d ever slept with!

Let me clarify that statement before your mind is flooded with incorrect notions and assumptions!

“Brownie’s” office was situated in the top level of the building in which legal practice operated. The morning sun poured through the wide, high windows. Often after a couple of hours of constant dictation a desperate desire for sleep would take over, not only by me, but “Brownie”, too. We formed a pact, where, in turn, with one keeping watch; the other would place his/her head on the desk and have a nap. This pleasure became a habit and throughout the five years I worked with “Brownie”, I also “slept” with him!

“Brownie” was a gem. He was a loving, proud husband and father of three children.

Every year following my departure from Gympie up until I returned back in 1998, I rang “Brownie” on his birthday. Being back in Gympie, I visited him and his wife a couple of times. They lived not far from my dwelling.

When “Brownie” retired from Tozer and Jeffery I was living in Yorkey’s Knob, Cairns. I was invited to his retirement party that was held at the RSL Club, but because of commitments I was unable to attend. However, I wrote a poem to him in dedication of the fond and fun memories I had of those wonderful days and years working with him. Graham Jeffery, the son of my boss, John Jeffery, who had completed his “Articles” beneath his father’s guiding hand, who also worked as one of “us”, staff, and who later inherited/bought his father’s practice had the illustrious duty of reading my poem during the evening’s festivities. Later that night, after the party was over and everyone was back in their respective homes, I received a telephone call from Graham, the anointed one, informing me that “Brownie” had been so thrilled and so very pleasantly surprised by his poem.

With conflicting emotions, ranging from tears to laughter and all those in between, I read yesterday’s email from Vicki. Transposed back to those years, one part of me wanted desperately to remain there, lost forever.

2007-10-14T14:43:00.000-07:00

Hind’s Bakery on the esplanade at Tin Can Bay, way back when I was a small child, made the best meat pies I’ve ever tasted. Full of delicious meat and sauce encased in golden, flaky pastry, they were a’ must’ during our visits to Tin Can Bay.

Running a close second, if not nose to nose, were the pies from Webster’s, a small store operated by two sisters at the bottom of the hill, which is the junction of Lawrence and Mary Streets in Gympie.

To this day, I’ve never tasted pasties anywhere as good as those bought from Webster’s.

Condie’s and Harry’s were the two local bakeries in town at that time. The pasties came from Harry’s. Over the years, I’ve searched bakeries high and low to reproduce the taste of those marvellous pasties, but to no avail. I continue to be disappointed. I’ve tried so many different pasties from so many shops in as many areas. Not once have they matched those from Webster’s Corner Store. This is the closest to the original I can get.

CRUST FOR PASTIES

2 cups flour

1/2 cup shortening

1/4 cup lard

1/4 cup scraped suet

water

FILLING

1 1/4 lbs coarsely ground beef (lamb can be used, very finely diced)

4 medium potatoes, diced

1 large onion, chopped

1/4 cup Swede turnip, diced

1 English turnip, diced

1 carrot, diced

salt and pepper

Put the flour in a bowl and cut in the shortening, lard, and suet. Add just enough water to make a soft dough. Divide the dough into four parts and roll out each piece into a circle about the size of a dinner plate.

Crumble the meat into a bowl and stir in the potatoes, onion, Swede turnip, turnip and carrot.

Divide the mixture into four parts, putting some on one side of each piece of dough. Sprinkle generously with salt and pepper.

Fold the pastry over the filling to make half-moon shaped pies. Seal the edges and cut a couple of small slits on the top.

Bake on a baking tray at 200C for 30 to 35 minutes, then reduce heat to 180C and bake 15 more minutes.

Here’s another pastry that maybe a little simpler for the pasties.

4 cups self-raising flour

1 teaspoon Salt

1 1/2 cups Shortening

1/2 cup Ice Water

1 Egg – beaten

Combine flour and salt in a mixing bowl; cut in shortening. Rub together with your fingertips until the mixture forms pea-sized crumbs. Sprinkle with water, 1 tablespoon at a time, tossing lightly with a fork after each addition, until dough forms a ball. DO NOT OVERMIX. Wrap dough in plastic wrap; set aside in refrigerator 30 minutes to rest.

The magic ingredient for great tasting pasties is the inclusion of Swede turnip to the filling. To my taste and mind, pasties never taste as good without it.

So often I become nostalgic thinking about food, wishing and wanting to recapture tastes from years gone by.

I'm still a lover of the great Aussie icon...the meat pie! Oh! How I love a good meat pie!

Meat Pies:

2 cups Plain Flour

125 gm Lard, chopped (or chilled butter)

2 Eggs, lightly beaten

2 Tablespoons Water, approximately

2 sheets pre-made Puff Pastry

1 Egg Yolk, lightly beaten

Filling

A dash or two of olive oil

2 Onions, chopped

900 gm minced Beef or finely chopped beef

1/4 cup Worcestershire Sauce

1/4 cup dark Soy Sauce

2 teaspoons Beef stock powder

2 cups Water

1/2 teaspoon ground Allspice and/or mixed herbs

2 Tablespoons Cornflour

2 Tablespoons Water, extra

Pepper

Method for making Aussie Meat Pies

Sift flour into bowl; rub in lard/butter. Add eggs and enough water to make ingredients cling together. Press dough into a ball, knead gently on a floured surface until smooth, cover, refrigerate 1/2 hour. Divide dough into 8 portions. Roll out each portion on lightly floured surface large enough to line 11 cm pie tins. Trim away excess pastry. Place tins on oven tray, line pastry with paper, fill with dried beans or rice. Bake in moderately hot oven about 8 minutes, remove paper and beans, bake further 8 minutes or until pastry is lightly browned, cool. Spoon cold filling into pastry cases. Cut 8 x 12cm rounds from puff pastry, brush edges of pastry with a little egg yolk; gently press puff pastry tops into place; trim edges. Brush tops with a little more egg yolk. Make 2 small slits in centre of pies, place on oven trays, bake in moderately hot oven about 15 minutes or until lightly browned. Serve hot with tomato sauce. Filling: Heat oil in pan, add onion, cook stirring until soft. Add mince/chopped beef; stir over heat until browned. Stir in sauces, stock powder, water and allspice/herbs. Bring to boil, simmer, covered, about 30 minutes. Stir in blended cornflour and extra water, stir over heat until mixture boils and thickens.

Once they're out of the oven, all you have to do is bog in and enjoy! (With mashed spuds and mushy peas!)

Not having a father in our household, Mum was the main "bread-winner". She was a "working mother" in the days when it was quite a rarity. When Mum was home, she preferred gardening to housekeeping or cooking. The running of the household was our Nana's domain. Mum prepared a garden to the side of the front garden path where she planted and tended to vegetables. Always, it seemed, we had tomatoes, beans, peas, lettuce, potatoes and corn on ready supply. When we had too many tomatoes, Mum turned her hand to cooking and transformed the over-abundant tomatoes into pickles.

GREEN TOMATO PICKLES

2lbs tomatoes

2 large onions

1 tablespoon each of curry powder, pepper, dry mustard

3 tablespoons golden syrup

1 pint malt vinegar

Cut tomatoes and onions into slices. Sprinkle with salt and let stand for 12 hours. Then drain off liquid. Put vinegar, curry, mustard and pepper on to boil, then add syrup. Add tomatoes and onions. Boil until tender. Pour into sterilized bottles.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with some good old home-style food! It's an elixir for one's heart and soul.

Saturday Ponderings....

2007-10-12T16:29:00.000-07:00

Love in Past Tense

Rarely did she see him...when she did his mind was elsewhere it was oh so clear
He spoke of much however not often to her alone...she, he had chosen to forego
His words although fluent were spoken only to impress others, to her it did appear
He craved the praise the accolades their swooning approval fodder for his ego

Foolishly she chose not to heed signs he so callously and readily waved her way
In the background lost in the shadows she waited in hope...unconsiously knowing
His desire for fawning adulation consuming voraciously manipulating night and day
A continual search for confirmation of his higher intelligence his demands growing

Generous with her love her heart she handed him never intending to smother him
An undemanding love never good enough for him he had proven time and time again
With awakened mind and aching heart she realised his feelings for her to be a whim
Unselfishly she gave of herself only to be spurned by him causing bitter tears and pain

Nothing left but echoing emptiness memories of happier times...had there been any truth
In their shared moments of passion early morning love their moonlit walks along a beach
The words 'I love you' locked in his throat so foreign to his heart always he was uncouth
Even moments she needed him most his love never hers to enjoy he kept far out of reach

(Butterfly and poem by me...and pictures of changing moods in my garden)

"What happens in the past never goes away".

An astute statement, but, unfortunately not of my creation. Memories remain long after those who shared in their formation have left our lives to follow other paths or some who’ve passed onto the ‘other world’, if there is such a place.

Flashbacks, oft-times welcomed…many times intrusive, frequent my mind. Mingled within my midnight to dawn travels, eerie dreams encroach to remind, torment and haunt. Anger undiminished as demons persist. Forever, my childhood years affect and colour my life. Amongst my memories are some I wish not to recall, but faithfully they remain, not eager to depart.

Facing truth is difficult unless one is able to accept what occurred in the past. To be capable of staunchly moving forwards towards greener pastures by persistence and hard work is so often fraught with failure. Always afraid to show one’s true inner self, it’s seems easier to hide behind a make-believe persona. Recognising and accepting honest emotions towards siblings and parents without guilt, if the feelings are not always shrouded in love and lightness causes pain and confusion. Finding courage to express candidly thoughts that torment, takes a lifetime of inner turmoil. However, one can defy grief, heartache and lack of self-esteem by sustaining moral sensibility, patience and holding onto a continual enchantment in the simple pleasures of life and the intoxication of nature's bounty. All are positive, stimulating actions against persistent, character-demeaning demons.

It’s a given we love our parents and siblings. To have adverse feelings is not normal, or is it? Is it not possible at times to be inflicted by such inclinations? Embedded within us is the belief we are to love of our family members through thick and thin, come what may. It is expected. Is it abnormal to feel otherwise? Is it evil? Obviously one’s life can’t always be plain sailing, with smooth waters forever along the way. Each member of a family should conduct his or her self in a manner to earn, to deserve love and respect as one expects with and from chosen friends and others.

Unfortunately, this is not always so.