Food

One thing I have truly loved about moving out of the family home is how much more I cook. I do the bulk of the cooking now (it means I don’t have to always wash up :D). Sure I dislike our stove with a passion, it is soooo inefficient, the oven does not know at all what even heat means, it likes burning the bottom of baked goods and it on the small side so finding biscuit trays to fit has been a mission. Still as much as I dislike the stove, I still love it as it lets me cook. The bummer is that I am not taking any photos of what I am cooking, I know I should and that I should start playing with my flashes to provide the lighting as when I have finished cooking it is dark, dark, dark outside and the ceiling lights in our flat leave little to be desired.

Whilst some nights I don’t feel like cooking after coming home from work and I end up having a sandwich or a salad for dinner, most nights the thing I want to do most after a day at work is to potter round the kitchen or sit on the kitchen bench stirring the pot with a cup of tea or glass of water beside me whilst listening to the ABC or some Jazz. One of my staples has become a lamb and lentil dhal of sorts as well as of course a good old pasta ragu.

Last night I made mushroom risotto for dinner and well both Andrea and I had seconds. It was good, so good. Looking forward to having the leftovers for lunch at work tomorrow. This morning we had blueberry pancakes for breakfast just because I didn’t feel like having cereal or toast πŸ˜€

I have decided that one of the the things I will do when I am flat hunting next time is request a test run of the stove πŸ˜€ well at least a thorough inspection of it’s capabilities. πŸ˜€

Defence Charity Ball

Last Saturday night I got frocked up for a good cause, the third annual Defence Charity Ball in aid of Legacy and Red Kite and oh what a night it was. There was eleven of us from work plus the other assorted people that people knew from working in the Defence arena. The guys were looking swish in their mess kits and us girls were sparkling in our frocks. It was a night of good food, dancing, chatting, drinking and posing in Iroquois and with Military Working Dog Puppies and Jamie Durie. After the formalities of the ball were over, the rest of the table started on their way home but one of the other girls and I kept on going till the early morning, enjoying a night out all frocked up in our finest.

My dress picked me, I walked into a dress shop at Chermside, had a flick through a few racks, then the manager came over and said hello, asked me what I was looking for and pulled out a few dresses. The dress I wore, was the first one I tried on. I cam back a few days later with Mum, tried it on again and walked out with it πŸ˜€ The dress however meant that I had to wear heels. For those who know me, I don’t really wear heels, luckily I have a great flat mate who has the same size feet as me and wears heels πŸ˜€ I wore high heels every night round the flat with my track pants getting used to wearing high heels, I looked well like a picture but it was going to be the only way I would be able to last a night in heels. There were quite high heels too, a good 2cm high …. I have to give big thanks to Andrea and Brandi, my flatmate and one of her best mates for doing my hair and make-up. Which meant that one of the persons I work with (though he does work in one of regional offices didn’t recognise me). My hair was so cool, the curls managed to stay curly for a few days more which a lot more fun the the straight slightly wavy hair I have naturally.
The evening before the ball, Andrea and I met up in the city to find the brooch to wear on the dress sash, we went to sooo many shops and looked and discarded sooo many brooches (so many were just plain ugly). Then we came across this little costume jewellery shop in the Myer Centre and there she was, the brooch which was in my budget and had enough vintage style to be very me.

This ball was my first and definitely won’t be my last.

Red Dress and CurlsRed Dress and Curls

You can check out the rest of the photos here.

Tweed Exploring

The other Friday, I took an early mark from road and headed south on the M1 to say hi to the Family and explore new roads, old roads and roads that don’t fit as either new or old.

Mum and Grandad had planned this trip to check out the new Pacific Highway and some of the new bypasses. Aunty Margaret joined in because she wanted to see some of the rellies and some of the areas that Grandad used to hang out as a young one. I went well because it meant a chance to drive on the Tugun bypass, hang out with Grandad and see the sights.

We drove down to Tweed Heads and had a lovely afternoon tea with Aunty Doris, enjoyed a stroll in the garden and the first of many catch-ups.
Aunty Doris

Then we popped in on Uncle Bob and Aunty Heather at Cudgen and admired a lovley scarf that one of their granddaughters who is an Army Nurse had brought back from the Middle East as well as general catch-up. Uncle Bob is very proud of the fact that he still drives the tractor for a couple of hours a day most days of the week. Once a farmer, always a farmer.

Then it was driving down to Brunswick Heads to stay the night. We had dinner at Dominic’s, the local Italian restaurant. We shared some zucchini flowers (something I had been wanting to try for ages) for an entrée which were delightful. I had Chilli Prawn Spaghetti for my main which was just the right combination of chilli and tomato. What really stood out for me was my dessert, the most delightful Panna Cotta, oh it was bliss. After enjoying a long dinner it was time to retire to our accommodation, The Brunswick Heads Chalet Motel.

Saturday morning arrived and it was time to pack the bags and drive up the road to New Brighton (where we actually would have liked to stay the night) for breakfast at the only cafe in town “Pippis” (if you are getting the idea that there is not much to this town you would be right). As we drove through Ocean Shores South into New Brighton, Grandad started pointing out places where he used to fish or picinic. One of the first things Grandad said when we walked into the cafe was to ask the man in charge if he knew of the ex-cop who used to run the cafe twenty odd years ago. The current owner didn’t know him though. After our breakfast, we did a little drive round the two or three streets of the township as Grandad pointed out places and Mum and Aunty Margaret remembered their time spent with Great Aunts/Uncles. Then we walked down to the Beach and oh what a glorious beach it was. To Grandad it is one of his favourite beaches and when he was younger him and his family spent many Sunday arvos their with a picnic lunch after church.

Shell hunting on Grandad's Beach

After we had our stay on the Beach, it was time to hit the road and keep on moving. On our way out of town Grandad pointed into the bush where a river was and said that when the tide and light was right, he and Armand would pick up Crabs as the tide retreated. As we passed near/over creeks, Grandad would pause and look into the water and comment that the water looked dead or not as full of life and flow that it had been in the 1920’s and 30’s when he spent every possible moment in this land.

Leaving New Brighton we headed to Billinudgel on the Billinudgel Rd, a winding dirt road which used to be the main road north. Granadad recalled driving this road with his Grandmother in a horse and sulky when a train roared past below, scaring the horse and taking them for a bit of a bolt. The first building you see coming down onto the Bilinudgel flats is the house that Aunty Lil used to live in. We took a drive up past it and Mum commented that the house was full of knooks and crannies. Margaret commented that it needed re-stumping.

After a drive round Bilinudgel, we went up to the the Pocket, another area which Grandad had spent time exploring in his youth, as the farm (Souldern – named after the village in Oxfordshire from where the Stephenson’s lived before emigrating to Australia) at Yelgun was on the other side of the mountain to the Pocket. He pointed out a creek that him and Uncle Albert once pulled a sugar bag of fish out of.
After a drive round the Pocket, we headed to Yelgun and up Browning Lane to the old farm. It had been a few years since we had last driven up the road to see the farm and in that time the road has deteriorated considerably. When we got up the house “Souldern”, we were greeted by a big barking mutt who didn’t want us to be there.
Souldern

After taking some more photos we, headed up the highway a bit further to Crabbes Creek where Grandad went to primary school for a quick flying visit before heading up the road to Murwillumbah for lunch with Aunty Colleen.

Aunty Colleen is a legend.
Aunty Colleen

We had pumpkin soup for starters, then salad plates and last and very not least Aunty Colleen’s trifle. This is a trifle that well, they should probably ask to see your ID before you are served. Very good trifle.

We looked at photos. We talked about trips down to the Tweed and we talked about what everyone else is doing at the moment and Aunty Colleens impeding move down south to Gosford to be closer to her children. We collected quite a few photos to get copies of and one of the photos I picked up is of Grandmum, Grandad and Mum very pregnant with me from Uncle Armand’s funeral. It is now on my desk πŸ˜€

And we took a family photo.
Family

Then we drove to the other side of Murwillumbah to see Aunty Ena and Uncle Wally and Ian. To look at more photos, talk more talk and eat some more! The first thing Aunty Ena said to me as I walked up the stairs that looking at my face I just look like, I had thought she was going to say Grandmum but instead she said no I had thought she was going to say Grandmum but instead she said Robin, one of Mum’s cousins. I know what I am going to look like at 40 and I know what I am going to look like at 80. Grandmum had three daughters and it is Mum who resembles her the most and since I am Mum’s only daughter well I would be the granddaughter who has the resemblance. That is the fun thing though.

Uncle Wally and Aunty Ena

We talked, we ate, we looked at photos and then it was time to head off, stopping at the house at the top of the main street where Grandad boarded through high school for a quick photo. Then it was the drive home and a trip to the Cod Father for tea. So a weekend of food not prepared by ourselves, driving the roads and lots of memories new and old.

And to close it off a photo of the Mandarin tree at Aunty Colleen’s.
Mandarin, eaten.

Strawberry Fields Forever

Strawberry Bliss

Have you ever bitten into a strawberry and feel your entire mouth start to smile? A smile that starts as your lips feel that first drop of strawberry juice and extends upwards and upwards as your teeth close together after the last bite.

That is what these strawberries pictured taste like. Strawberries that you are eating mere hours after they have been picked. Strawberries that you have seen grow and grow since they were first planted a few months ago. Strawberries that are sweet but with a slight tang and the texture is just right.

This is what strawberries should always taste like.

Cherry Tomatoes

I started writing this post a few weeks ago but I didn’t get a chance to take the last photo for the post till today. So now I present a tale of Cherry Tomatoes. At the moment, each time we visit the farm one of the things that I do or I do with Mum is pick the Cherry Tomatoes and now I give you a photo-documentary of the process.

Picking the little red balls. Some weekends we do this in near dark other weekends like yesterday we did it in the winter sun. When I took these photos we had not picked the tomatoes for three weeks we had a bounty on our hands.
Tomato, Tomato, Tomato more tomatoes in the sun

We pick the reddest, ripest tomatoes we can find, knowing that they will pack a whole lot more punch when they are dried.
Mum picking those little red balls of sweetness

After filling our buckets and trying to avoid the cobblers pegs and pea weed, it is time to clean them. The sink is filled with water and the tomatoes are poured in, washing off the dirt.
Mum picking those little red balls of sweetness

We stand there, on either side of the sink, methodically picking up a tomato, plucking off the stalk and putting the tomatoes on a rack to dry.
Drying in the sun after washing and cleaning

After they have tried it is on to the fun stuff. Cutting each and every tomato in half and placing it on the rack to go in the food dryer.
Chopping up the Tomatoes

Then they dry and dry and dry some more till we have little red discs, typically a bit smaller than a 5c piece. Then we feast on them in salads, pasta, dips, cous cous, sandwiches etc or take photos of them in a vase on the balcony….
Dried Cherry Tomatoes