FOR REAL! IT REALLY IS THE VEAL DEAL!

Two pics of Collinsville Coal Mine

Briefly in late 1997, early 1998 I lived and worked in Ingham.
 
Some days during my break between shifts I’d pop into a little Italian trattoria opposite from where I worked to have a light, late lunch/early dinner.

Owner/chef Gino was a jovial Italian gent. The eatery had a narrow interior dining area. There were also a couple of tables on the footpath for those who chose al fresco dining. I was one who enjoyed watching the world pass by before I headed home to refresh and to feed my two cats. I’d then return to work to hit the hot ranges for the night session.

No!  I wasn’t a jillaroo rounding up a herd of cattle.  I was a cook/chef working long, busy hours rounding up food for the public. I was a chef/cook in Lee's Hotel, Lannercost Street, Ingham.

And, no once again....the hotel was not named after me.  One, Rupert Lee, a Chinese-Australian (and his wife, Gloria, of Spanish heritage) owned the hotel, plus the adjoining business next door, called "Lee's of Lannercost Street.  The latter sold quality homeware/decor, beautiful gift lines in glassware, porcelain, dinner sets, women's classy handbags etc. etc., et al.

Through business, I'd known Rupert for many years.  During my 14 years employment with the Kolotex Group of Companies, in the roles of secretary to the Queensland Manager, Office Manager and State Sales Coordinator, Rupert was a client of the company and would only deal with me when he visited our Brisbane office/showrooms/warehouse, or when he rang the company.  We'd struck up a mutual respect.  Whenever I was passing through the town of Ingham when I was managing the resort on Hinchinbrook Island, if I had the time, I’d pop in to see Rupert for a quick hello and chat.

My ending up in his employ many years later (in the latter stages of 1997 to early 1998, is another lengthy story for another day.

For me, when cooking for the hungry hordes, (and boy, oh, boy, the people of Ingham loved to eat out....by the droves) eating a meal prepared by another was a welcomed treat; whether it was in Ingham or other towns and restaurants in which I was the cook.
I never referred to myself as a "chef" - and I still don't when writing about those times I worked with the hospitality industry in that capacity.

I wasn't a qualified chef...I didn't have the papers declaring that to be the case; so I was a cook who cooked like a chef, having taught myself by watching, questioning and learning from qualified chefs with whom I worked in the past, or who had been in my employ. 
 
At one restaurant in which I cooked when asked by my bosses to wear a chef’s outfit I refused it because I believed (and still do) I wasn't qualified to do so. I would’ve felt like a fraud; a pretender.  I always wore my own chosen "uniform/outfit"  - black or charcoal leg-ins, with a long, white tee-shirt.

Gino’s trattoria in Lannercost Street, Ingham’s main street, though simple in decor, was the real deal.
 
The majority of Ingham’s population is of Italian heritage. 
Italians love food; both the preparation and eating thereof. They enjoy sharing the fruits of their efforts with family, friends and strangers.

I’d been around food/diners in commercial venues one way or the other for years, but until Ingham I’d never witnessed the “euforia”, or as the French would say, the “joie de vivre” expressed by the townsfolk when handed a menu or when faced with buffet tables bearing an array of tempting platters, along with a 12-bay, thermostatically-controlled island bain marie bearing stainless steel containers filled with various hot “wet” dishes for the choosing.  And, let’s not forget, of course, the vast assortment of desserts that followed.

Ingham’s enthusiastic diners didn’t disguise their exuberance for life, or for food. Their zeal was the real deal. There was nothing fake about the food Gino prepared, either. It was honest. I loved Gino’s cheese and spinach ravioli with garlic, toasted pine nuts, parmesan and fresh basil, all coated in extra-virgin olive oil; I still drool when I think about it! Sometimes, I’d break my habit - I’d have one of his specialty veal dishes, instead.

During our childhood, my brother Graham and I ate what was put in front of us.  Negotiation and coercion were unknown in our home. We knew the food we were given was good food.  We weren’t the richest family in Gympie by far; however, we always ate well. Our cupboards were never bare and our plates were always full. 

Our Nana and Mum didn’t eat veal, but it didn’t stop them from cooking it for my brother and me. A golden, roasted leg of veal was a real treat.  Our eyes lit up when Sunday lunch featured roast veal. No urging was necessary.  We bogged in while maintaining the mannered manners we’d been taught, of course. There’s no gravy like gravy made from the drippings of roast veal!

If I roasted veal legs as part of the night’s menu when I was employed by Morris Catering as their manager/chef/cook for the single men’s quarters/accommodation and canteen for the miners at Collinsville Coal, then a subsidiary of Mount Isa Mines, in the township of Collinsville, like animals, the men always made a mess of them.

One evening I tore strips off one of the miners.  He was a bit of an arrogant S.O.B....if you get my drift. I always had the impression his impression of women wasn’t an elevated one. 

At that time I was the first woman to have ever been manager of the single men’s accommodation and canteen/mess, which probably had put his equilibrium a bit out of whack before he took a few deep breaths and came to grips with the facts of life.

His donger/accommodation was across the street at the rear of the building that housed the industrial kitchen, dining room and office, so it was an easy stroll to the canteen for his breakfast, lunch and dinner.

On the evening to which I’m referring, I caught him hot-handed in the act of stealing the golden hocks from the freshly roasted legs of veal. Along with another chap named Bob, who was a simple, pleasant fellow who wouldn’t hurt a fly or steal, he and Bob were the first to arrive for dinner – arriving a few minutes prior to 6 pm, the designated commencement time for dinner.

I’d just filled up the containers in the bain marie and was attending to the final bits and pieces.

My chauvinistic “mate’s” intention was to take the juicy hocks off the freshly-roasted veal legs back to his donger for his dog.  Get real!

Sneakily, he’d already torn one off, placed it in a brown paper bag and hid it under his jacket.  When I caught him he was in the process of grabbing another. 

Appearing suddenly at his side, I stopped him firmly in his tracks.  I think he might have changed his trousers when he arrived back to his donger!

My antenna was always on high alert.  Nothing much ever got past me....the status quo remains!

As I was expressing my thoughts to the culprit, out of the corner of my eye I noticed Bob quickly and quietly duck for cover, distancing himself from the war that was about to erupt!  Within me I was amused at Bob’s reaction, but my outer persona told a different story.

The actions of the other fellow angered me, particularly since I regularly gave him leftovers and scraps for his dog; a gesture out of kindness – for his dog, not him!  His dog had better manners than he did. 

The guy was a heel; he never tried that trick again. He rolled over after I told him to sit!

(The coal mine at Collinsville, Queensland's oldest coal mine looks set to become a victim of the relentless slide in coal prices.   It has been announced by the current owners, Glencore tht 180 of the 230 jobs at the Collinsville mine will be cut and mining will effectively stop in 2016 if the market doesn't improve.  So many lives, families, households will suffer, therefore the town. Collinsville is surrounded by beef cattle properties, so I guess, they will become the town's mainstay).

Overall, I worked in Collinsville for three years...and I had a wonderful time.  It was a fun town in which to work and live.

Veal Rib Roast with Cranberry Port Sauce: Loosen the chine (back) bone from a 2kg to 2.5kg veal rib roast.  Place the roast, rib ends down in roasting pan; don’t add water or cover. Roast in 162C oven to desired doneness, approx 22-27mins for 500g for medium; don’t overcook. In bowl, combine 1-1/4c soft bread crumbs 3tbs minced fresh parsley 2tbs butter, 2 crushed garlic cloves and 1-1/4tsp dried marjoram. 30mins before end of roasting time, remove roast from oven; spread 2tbs Dijon mustard evenly over top surface; then coat with crumb mixture; pat firmly into mustard. Return to oven; continue cooking. When cooked remove from oven; let stand 15mins. Meanwhile skim fat from drippings in pan; add 1/3c Ruby port to drippings, stirring until browned bit s attached to pan are dissolved; transfer to med-saucepan; add 1x450c whole berry cranberry sauce; cook on med-high heat 10mins or until thickened; stir often. Trim excess fat and removed back bone from roast; carve between bones into thick slices; serve with sauce.

Stuffed Veal: Place 5 medium button mushrooms, 135g spinach leaves, leaves from 3 rosemary sprigs, 320g pimento-stuffed olives, zest of 1 orange and 1 lemon into processor; process to a paste. Untie 1.5kg rolled, netted veal roast; season both sides; spread the stuffing paste evenly and generously over surface of the veal; re-roll veal; tie it just tightly enough to secure; not too tightly or filling will ooze out. Heat 2tbs olive oil in pan; sear veal on all sides until deep golden. Place veal in roasting pan. In bowl, combine 2tbs honey, 6tbs apricot jam and 2tsp Dijon mustard. Rub all over meat surface, reserved some mixture. Bake in 190C oven, covered. Remove from oven; baste with remaining mixture; return to oven, uncovered for 15mins. Allow roast to stand 10mins before slicing. 

Veal Sorrento (Vitello alla Sorrentino):  Dredge 4x1/4-inch slices of eggplant in seasoned flour.  Mix Italian herbs into 1/2c breadcrumbs. Dip the eggplant slices into beaten egg, and then coat with breadcrumbs. Chill in fridge for 30-45mins or so. Heat 3 tbls x-olive oil in pan over med-high heat; sautế eggplant until golden brown on both sides; transfer to paper-lined plate; set aside. Wipe out pan with paper towel. Heat 2tbs x-virgin olive oil and 2tbs butter in pan; dredge 4 veal scallopine in seasoned flour. Sautế veal for 1min per side; transfer veal to baking dish; arrange in single layer. In small saucepan, combine 2 seeded, diced medium tomatoes, 1tbs chopped parsley, 1/2tsp dried oregano and 1tbs x-virgin olive oil; cook, stirring occasionally for 5mins, until tomatoes begin to soften. Place one slice prosciutto on each veal scallopini; fold the prosciutto to fit; add one slice of cooked eggplant on top of each.  Place 2 slices of ¼-inch thick mozzarella in a single layer on top; spoon an equal amount of tomato mixture over each.  Sprinkle with some grated Parmesan or pecorino cheese. Bake in preheated 218C (425F) oven 5mins, or until the cheese has melted and is bubbly.

(This is my first post using Windows 10...I had my tower upgraded Thursday of last week...so I'm still becoming familiar with the new system.  Fun! Fun! Fun!  Particularly for one such as I....one who has little patience and hates change!   Hehehehe!)