PARTY POOPER I AM....THE BARE FACTS!

Whew!  I’m exhausted!  I’ve hung up my silks, rubber spurs and riding crop. Now I might have to take a Bex and have a good lie down!  

It’s not what you’re thinking!  You people!!  I’ve not been watching “Fifty Shades Darker”, the “Fifty Shades of Grey” sequel; nor have I just finished re-reading the trilogy! 

I’m referring to the Melbourne Cup Carnival. As inferred in my previous post, my tradition each year is to watch every meeting and race throughout The Cup Carnival - from go to whoa - from Saturday to Saturday. 

Not one for group gatherings on Melbourne Cup Day I hold my own party with me as the guest of honour.     

By the way, I backed 1^st and 2^nd in The Cup.    

I can’t imagine me not having a bit of fun on Cup Day...and, as it always seems to turn out well for me.  Each year I do okay with my Melbourne Cup wagers.  I hope my winning streak continues.

I’ve never been one for organised group Cup parties.  I’ve never attended one, willingly or unwillingly.  However, over the years when cooking in restaurants etc., I catered for enough to last me two lifetimes...unwillingly.  Again, I’ve said all this before...apologies for repeating myself.  Where did I hide those antacid tablets?

Furthermore, I’m probably one of the very few who’s never attended a Tupperware Party or similar where the hostess tries to flog whatever it is she’s supposed to be flogging to guests who feel obligated to buy. 

Only once have I been cornered.  It was back in the early 90s. Caught off-guard, I was trapped with no escape hatch.

Having arrived to a new town, Collinsville, and a new job as manager-chef of the Mess and accommodation for the single men employed by Collinsville Coal (a subsidiary of MIM aka Mount Isa Mines),  I was roped into going to, of all things a Lingerie Party.

Shortly after my arrival one of my staff members was hosting the party at her home on a Sunday afternoon. Believing it to be the courteous thing to do, she extended an invitation on the premise I was “new in town; the new kid on the block”. 

In a moment of weakness (or caught unexpectedly without forewarning, with no valid “out”) I thought maybe it wouldn’t kill me to go along to meet some of the townsfolk – the ladies of the town.

The Sunday afternoon turned up far too quickly!

With little enthusiasm off I went, dragging my feet (which was difficult to do because I was driving.  I was my own personal chauffeur). 

My carefully thought-out plan was to make an appearance; purchase an item or two in undying gratitude for the hostess’ hospitality etc., and then, having extended my thank you, depart politely.

Once my commitment was over and done with I’d return home to be left to my own devices, peace and quiet.

Everything was going along smoothly according to my plan when out of the blue a male stripper appeared!   A “Magic Mike” he wasn’t; not that I’ve watched either one of the movies. And I have no intention of doing so.

The hired stripper was a still a wet-behind- the-ears kid in his early 20s it appeared to me. I was old enough to be his mother; as were the other women in attendance! 

As if by magic, the women transformed into a rabble of teenage girls, not yet fresh out of high school!

Something that really grates on me is a mob of screaming females.  And there I found myself - caught in my worst nightmare - in the middle of a mob of screaming females! 

They were carrying on like mentally-deranged hens being stalked by a fox or a snake in a hen yard!

I turn off TV shows such as “Ellen”, “Oprah” (when she still had a show), “The Talk” etc., when the audiences go crazy like a disorderly bunch of obsessed banshees.   They drive me insane!   I rarely watch them; and when I do they’ve been recorded, which enables me to fast-forward through all the nonsense, only watching a guest, if I feel he or she is worth watching.

The mass was carrying on like demented lunatics that Sunday afternoon!  

You’d swear the women had never seen a naked man before...perhaps they hadn’t.
  
Either which way, it was no excuse to carry on like a horde of giggling, drooling, swooning, screaming school girls!

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse the near-naked young man plopped himself on my lap!   

Wrong move, laddie! 

I’m not a prude, but I do have demarcation lines.  I’m the one who places my lines and limits.  They’re not set in concrete, but they are mine to set and move as I see fit.

When the disrobed, misguided drongo plonked himself on my lap my reaction and words (use your imagination – in effect, I told him I’d seen better) were immediate and spontaneous. 

With one solitary, but firm movement, I sent the barely-clothed fellow flying across the room on his scantily-covered butt.  Whether he got blisters or splinters in his nether regions I cared not.

Finally he skidded to a halt close to his discarded clothes.  I’d never seen anyone dress so quickly.  His departure was equally as rapid.  From that moment on, I imagine he changed his occupation.

My one fluid action caused the room to go deathly quiet.  Mouths and eyes had opened in shock, and remained so. 

It was one way to shut up the previously shrieking, excitable women. 

As for me, I left – and that was it as far as those types of parties were concerned. 

Brazilian Rump: Smash 5 garlic cloves; sprinkle with salt; then make into paste with mortar & pestle; mix in 1tbs x-olive oil. Put 1.5kg-2kg piece of trimmed rump in baking pan; prick all over with skewer; evenly rub garlic paste on the meat; marinate at room temp 1hr. Preheat oven 200C.  Scrape as much of the paste off meat before placing in oven. Put 3tbs olive oil in roasting pan over med-high heat; sear rump until browned on both sides. Transfer to oven; cook as desired. Preheat pan over med-high heat. Alternately thread cherry tomatoes and very small pickling onions or quartered onions on skewers; brush with oil; season. Char on both sides; serve with sliced rump.

Rump Pot Roast: Place 2 chopped large garlic cloves and 1.5tbs finely chopped rosemary leaves in bowl; season.  Pour 1/2c x-virgin olive oil into large pan; add 1-1/2c very finely chopped celery and 1c very finely chopped carrots. Turn heat to med-high; sauté 5mins; add 2c finely chopped red onions; sauté 10mins. Remove from heat. Truss 1.5kg-2kg rump roast with string to keep shape. Make 4 cross-shaped incisions at even intervals along one side of rump. Make a hole in each incision with a finger; fill each hole with some garlic/rosemary mixture. Truss the rump roast tightly with string to keep its shape. With a sharp knife make 4 cross shaped incisions at even intervals along one side of the rump roast, beginning about an inch from either end. Stick a finger into each incision to dig a hole. Fill each hole with a quarter of the rosemary/garlic mixture. Heat 1/4 cup olive oil in Dutch oven. When oil is hot, place rump in pot; brown 5 minutes on each side; do the first side on high heat; then reduce to medium; remove the roast to a plate. Transfer the sautéed vegetables, 1 can crushed tomatoes, 4 slices lemon peel, 1-1/2c dry red wine, 2c beef stock, and 1-1/2tsp salt to Dutch oven: stir well. Return rump to Dutch oven. Cover; bake 1-1/2hrs in 200C oven. Turn roast, uncover; bake further 1/2hr. 

Dry Marinated Barbecued Rump: Combine1tsp cracked black pepper, 2tsp ground coriander/cilantro, 1/2tsp cumin, 1-1/2tsp chilli powder, 1/2tsp cinnamon, 1tbs brown sugar and 1tsp salt; mix well. Rub 1tbs olive oil over 2 kgs whole rump; then sprinkle meat with spice mixture. Cover and refrigerate 2 hours. Rest the rump out of fridge for about 30mins before starting to cook it. Barbecue in covered barbecue or roast in oven at 200C for 1-1/4hrs for medium rare, or done to your liking.  Rest it in a warm place for 15mins before carving.

Plum Fool: Dice 600g plums; remove the stones. Place plums in saucepan with 3tbs sugar and 2tbs water. Bring slowly to the boil; then turn down to a simmer. Cook until plums are soft.  Allow to cool; then strain off juice. Whip 250ml cream; fold in two-thirds of the plums. Pour a little of the plum juice into each serving glass; top with cream and plum mix; then spoon over remaining fruit. Finish with a little extra plum juice and crumbled Amaretto biscuits or toasted almond flakes over top.