A thing or two about manners

I don’t even want to think about how long it has been since my last post.  It’s been a long time for which I offer my sincerest and most humble apologies.  But there is no excuse for bad manners, which is absolutely what I’ve demonstrated.  However, it’s probably time to move on, to get passed this and talk about serious matters.

But I can't ignore the fact of my manners, so over the course of the next few weeks I hope to bring you some sweet little tid bits from my gospel on all things etiquette (in a time where being sexist was probably not as much of a faux pas as it is now).  The book that holds the key is Amy Vandebilt’s Complete Book of Etiquette (for info, Amy Vandebilt is not directly of ‘the’ Vandebilt family, figures of American aristocracy who made their fortune in shipping and on the railway.  According to wikipedia, which never lies, they are the seventh wealthiest family in history).

A bloodless victory

I'm a little bit ashamed, but I have to admit that while walking through the aisles of our local green grocer last weekend I was guilty of releasing an excited, childish squeal of delight.  You might wonder what made me react in such a manner.  Well, you see, what was just a normal Saturday afternoon grocery shop was transformed when I set eyes upon a table of plump blood oranges.

Blood oranges are notoriously hard to grow, requiring dry, hot summers and cold winters.  According to Red Belly Citrus, a local producer of blood oranges with orchards in the Riverina region of New South Wales, they need to be grown in a location that will provide temperatures that are almost freezing at night and very high temperatures throughout the day.

They also have a relatively small season, running from August to October.  This, combined with the limited number of producers in Australia, means that there's only a very small window to enjoy this extraordinarily, exotic-looking fruit.

Recipe roadtest: Spiced tomato relish

Despite being a relatively regular Masterchef viewer I must admit that it irks me that almost everyone’s food dream revolves around opening their own restaurants.  Look, it’s admirable that they have these goals, but can we please leave the restaurant game to suitably qualified professionals?

I do, however, appreciate the obvious love and zeal that the contestants have for food and cooking (which to some extent I share).  Some of the feats they undertake in the kitchen successfully frequently make me think, if they can do it, and they’re regular Joes, so can I!

Until recently, our home only paid host to Masterchef when on TV.  I did not own any of their cookbooks (because if I could choose anyone’s cook book, why would I choose one of theirs?).  That was until recently, when I became the owner of one their cookbooks only by virtue of the fact it was in the $5 throw out bin at my local supermarket.

Marion Grasby is probably better known for not winning Masterchef, defecting television networks to appear on The Celebrity Apprentice and not winning that either and finally returning to Ten as a Masterchef All Star.  

Her cook book, simply titled ‘Marion' has been produced with a keen eye and attention to detail.  It looks simply gorgeous with its matte pages, beautiful photography, heart warming stories, interesting styling and simple illustrations.  From my recollections of her from TV the book seems very ‘Marion’. 

Movies reviewed: The Dark Knight Rises

The Dark Knight Rises has finally arrived, the final instalment in the Christopher Nolan Batman trilogy.  It’s been four years since the Batman last graced our screens in The Dark Knight.  There’s no doubting that is a hard act to follow up.

The film opens several years after the conclusion of The Dark Knight.  Gotham is a changed place - Harvey Dent’s death has not been in vain as he is now held up as a beacon of hope, strength and righteousness, there are few that know the depth of that lie. Bruce Wayne is a recluse, taking with him the Batman.  He mourns the death of Rachael, closeted and hidden within the walls of Wayne Manor.  Gotham is unrecognisable, a changed place, a haven.

Vietnam dreaming

I have an easy relationship with Vietnam.  A beautiful place, with friendly people and delicious food, it was hard not to fall in love.  Those of you who have been there before will probably agree I’m sure (at least, I hope you would). 

Since my return this easy love affair has turned into a not-so-secret obsession.  Our Lonely Planet guide to Vietnam has been there and back no less than four times since.  There’s no doubt in my mind that my friends are going solely due to my persuasiveness – or, perhaps, to shut me up.  But no matter how you look at it, I’ve been a boon to the Vietnamese travel market (really).

A street market selling lanterns in Hoi An

Sugar cravings

Was going through some photos from our recent trip, and came across this mouth-wateringly, teeth-achingly sweet collection of cakes.  We indulged on these sweet little cakes when we were in Malang, Indonesia.  They’re from the Roti Tugu Bakery, around the corner from the Tugu Malang Hotel.  I would go back to Malang just for these cakes. Yes.  They are THAT good.  

Movies reviewed: Prometheus

Very rarely do I suffer from complete and utter disappointment.  Sitting in the cinema as the credits rolled on Prometheus was one such moment.  I was perplexed, bewildered, deflated.

Prometheus is the hotly anticipated, it-is-but-it-isn’t prequel to Alien.  Ridley Scott returns to the helm to provide a back story to the world that he created in 1979 when he directed Alien.  Clearly there was something about Alien, since its creation there have been four Alien (directed by Scott, James Cameron, Jean-Pierre Jeunet and David Fincher) and two Alien Vs Predator movies.

Whatever it was that Alien had was evidently lacking in Prometheus.

In Alien Scott creates a terrifying world, adeptly using environment and situation, as opposed to special effects, explosions and violence to unsettle and scare the audience.  The aura of suspense and claustrophobia that he creates leaves the audience in as much uncertainty as the doomed crew of the Nostromo.  It is both sci-fi and horror, blended seamlessly. It is also, still, the best Alien film in the franchise.

Seasonally classic

Old Hollywood, the grand old dame, an era with gilded golden edges, imbued with an elegance and class that no longer exists.  The time glows like the youthful face of Marilyn Monroe (who, I learned recently, achieved the look by maintaining a fine coating of facial hair which reflected light making her appear luminescent).

On a chill winter or autumn afternoon there are few things better than curling up and watching your favourite film for the hundredth time.  I have watched many of them from the comfort of my couch on my reasonably sized television on such afternoons (and evenings, and even not so chill days, and often not just limited to winter and autumn…).

But, finally, thanks to Dendy, I’m going to get the chance to see these films on the big screen.  The cinema has just finished it’s Autumn Allure season classic films, with the winter season Winter Wonderland to commence on 4 June. 

M and I saw three movies from the first program (M may have seen 4, but it doesn’t count because this isn’t his blog!).  There is something special about seeing old films on the big screen akin to meeting an old friend for the first time.   Despite it being the umpteenth time I’ve seen some of these films, on the big screen it was a completely different experience.

Isla in Casablanca appears more vulnerable, her love for Victor more evident, her longing for redemption from Rick more palpable.  Rick on the other seems less smooth, more barbarous but no less magnetic.  Like the layers of its characters the movie charms more on the big screen, offering up more secrets, hinting more obviously at motivations, long seeded regrets and resentments.  It is, in essence, more beautiful and complex.

Re-run Rutherglen: Part 2 - Parker Pies

It’s unthinkable.  It’s in equal measures true and devastating… What could possibly make me this distraught?  The other night I opened the freezer and made a horrifying discovery.  M and I are down to our last Parker Pie.  Yes, that’s right there’s not even enough to share.

(An even number of pies was originally purchased, however, whilst M was out gallivanting I was chowing down on a pie… Which has resulted in my current state of pielessness *gasp*).

The humble meat pie, quintessential Aussie cuisine, easily and frequently executed poorly, but mouth-watering, glorious and divine when done well.  What distinguishes the good from the bad?  For me: a thick, rich meaty filling encased in a pastry that is buttery and flaky.  But I am no professional. I’ll leave that to the judges of the Official Great Aussie Pie Competition.  

In my search for the perfect meat pie I have learned a few things.  For one you will not find the perfect meat pie down the frozen food aisle of your local supermarket. Why? Food Standards Australia and New Zealand only require a ‘meat’ pie to contain a minimum of 25 per cent ‘meat flesh’!  In fact, after reading this Choice report you might choose to avoid supermarket pies altogether. I wouldn’t blame you.

I have unearthed some true gems in my quest… Ok, only one.  But this journey of discovery is only beginning.  This initial discovery has inspired me to explore, taste and gorge all in the hopes of finding that singularly irresistible meat pie.

This leads me to Main Street, Rutherglen. Diagonal from Tapsell’s second hand bookshop, across from the IGA, between the Bank on Main and The Victoria Hotel you’ll find Parker Pies, a place where the humble pie is elevated to magnificent heights.

Hello, Hello Bic Runga

It’s an extremely chilly Sunday evening in May.  We’re on our way to the Street Theatre, whose home is the ever-changing streetscape of Childers Street, Civic.   Bic Runga is on her Hello, Hello tour and Canberra is her final stop. 

Looking in to the theatre’s foyer from the brisk evening outside, it looks lovely, welcoming and homely. With a glass of warming red wine in hand, we wait for the concert to start.  The foyer fills up with jacketed, gloved, mittened, scarved , beanie-d people, some are turned away from the ticket booth as the concert has sold out.

The new Scholar in town

To celebrate my first communion as a kid my parents took me to yum cha at the New Shanghai restaurant in Dickson.  I vividly remember the craziness, the hustle and bustle.  The restaurant was abuzz with conversation, clattering plates, the clink of porcelain against porcelain as another Chinese tea was poured, the swoosh of fabric as another table cloth was swept away making room for the next lot of customers.  I remember the white silk dress I wore, with the gauzy overlay with bright orange and brown flowers embroidered on the front.

It was overwhelming.  And ever since I have had a love affair with yum cha.  There's something special about the perfectly portioned mouthful sized delicacies, served in their bamboo steamers and rolled around the restaurant in those tinny little trollies.

Those of you who know me and my family well have most likely been dragged to a yum cha lunch or two...

If you've been to yum cha this will be a familiar sight!

Celebrating 100 songs and 100 stories

This week a very talented friend of mine (who lives over at the little yellow house in the U) opened an exhibition.   For her exhibition, 100 Songs and 100 stories, she’s taken songs that mean something to someone, and the stories associated with that song, and turned them into art.

They’re beautiful, meaningful moments, captured lovingly.  Some are sad, others funny, they’re about love, loss and sometimes tragedy – just like the very songs that are the background to these human stories.  Just like the songs and stories are varied, so is the art, tenderly created using mixed media.

I even am lucky enough to have a song represented (Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps, by Doris Day) and so can now admit to being someone's muse!  Here's a sneaky shot taken on my iPhone (which does no justice to the picture of prettiness that it truly is):

For those of you in Canberra, I encourage you to visit the exhibition, which is being held at the M16 Artspace until 27 May 2012.  Others, who aren't lucky enough to be in Canberra to visit the exhibition, can listen to the songs, read the stories and admire the art on her blog here.

Lava-ing my lava rock

I am a lucky girl.  But ssshhh don’t tell anyone I admitted it.   

You see, when we were in Malang, Indonesia we stayed in this beautiful hotel, the Tugu Malang Hotel.  It was part museum, part resort.   In the Lonely Planet guide for Indonesia it is actually listed as one of the sights in Malang.  A truly beautiful hotel, each of the rooms is decked out in antiques that are from the owner’s collection.  It’s rich, elegant and decadent.  Opulent is a fitting adjective in this instance.  It groans beneath the weight of its treasures, about to burst at the seams.

At the main road entrance to the restaurant is a lovely little store.  Glass cabinets flank an antique cash register; little gems of prettiness nestle on red velvet, twinkling invitingly at you.  And then, as I ran my finger over the keys of the cash register, they caught my eye.  Jet black, bold, symmetrical, unique.  I longed for them.  But we were on holidays, surviving on a budget and I realised – sometimes you don’t get what you want.

 The antique cash register

One of my favourite things: Autumn

Autumn in Canberra.  For me, there’s no better time of year.  Many of you will probably disagree, already mourning the departure of summer barbecues, the end of daylight savings and sad that the warm weather seems only a fading memory.  Not me.

The days are becoming cooler, the trees are changing colour (bold red, burnt orange, golden yellow – like a beautiful oil painting) and I know that the weeks and months that stretch ahead will be filled with fluffy blankets, woollen socks, movie nights, Sunday morning sleep-ins, hot chocolates, comfort food and rich red wine.  

Yes, it’s time for the annual hibernation to begin, you can feel the pace slowing down, you wake to crisp and frosty mornings, your breath visible from your lips.  It’s time for jackets and scarves, boots and gloves.  What is not to love?  In this spirit I share with you a few of my favourite things about autumn:

Bags of pears, apples and pomegranates...

 Endless hot cups of tea and movies...

Slippers and cuddles with Bailey...

Re-run Rutherglen: Part 1

It was only a few posts ago that I alluded to my love of chocolate.  And it was more than a few ago that I told you that we had traveled to Rutherglen and loved it.  It was in that same post that I promised to share some highlights in the coming weeks and months.  So, it's been months, what are you going to do about it?


Renaissance chocolates is a jewel. Located several kilometres off the Murray Valley Highway, down Booraham East Road, you'll come across a dilapidated tin shed.  Surrounded by eucalypts and bordered by a wood and wire fence you'd almost be forgiven for not stopping and not giving a second though to it.  However, if you knew what this place was home to, you'd regret, and not be forgiven, for not stopping, especially if you didn't give it a second thought.

Inside this unassuming shed is a treasure for all chocolate lovers.  The love that the owners Robyn and Neil Funston have for chocolate and the region is palpable.  They infuse their chocolates with the best that the region has to offer - from Beechworth honey hidden inside a milk chocolate beehive to a Rutherglen muscat flavoured ganache truffle.

From back: Rich caramel log, velvet vanilla, chilli block, ruby orange, beehive, cinnamon square

Recipe road-test: Biscuity business

Yesterday was Anzac Day.  It's probably one of the most solemn and reverent days in Australia - a day to remember those that have represented Australia in military operations.  But it is not all sombre, lightened with rounds of two-up with mates, and the eponymous Anzac biscuit.

We probably all know the history of the Anzac biscuit, so I won't bother rehashing, except for the fact that they must have been pretty terrible to start with as the diggers used to refer to them as Anzac tiles!

I had initially thought that I would 'road-test' a recipe, detailed with standard highs, lows, success or failure.  However, in the initial stages of research I came across an amazing phenomenon.  What? The proliferation of fancy Anzacs biscuit recipes, with additions of spices, nuts, fruit and chocolate.  A seemingly endless variety of Anzacs.  That's all it took for one mission to be buried and another to born.

The new challenge? Three types of biscuits.  So, dear reader, just for you, I ventured in to my kitchen and made not one, not two, but three batches of Anzac biscuits.

Clockwise from left: White chocolate and macadamia, ginger and chocolate, traditional.

High wattage

Exotic South East Asia: when I think about it my mind conjures up a languid, gilded image, smudged by the humidity, blurred by traffic, twinkling beneath a blanket of fairy lights and steaming from the spice of chilli.

It is a region comprised of disparate countries, distinct cultures and diverse people and customs.  Yet all are inextricably linked through a shared history which has defined their modern selves.  Evidence of these linkages is dotted through each of the countries, a geographical game of connect the dots: a Khmer temple in Thailand, a Buddhist temple in Indonesia.

These are incongruous images when held up against these now uber-modern metropolises.  But they also provide a door way to the past, providing a brief glimpse to ancient disputes, the spread of customs, the expansion of religions, changing borders and the dispersion of people.  The consequences of some of these events are still evident today, the tensions along the Thai/Cambodia border is one example.

It is nearly impossible to go to South East Asia and not been drawn the through the gateway of at least one temple or shrines.  It’s easy to finish a day of sight seeing in Thailand weary eyed, sore footed, lethargic and literally watted (temple-d) out.  But that ice cold Chang (or Bintang) beer is totally well deserved.

Quality over quantity

I know, I know, Easter was over a week ago, and I'm probably a little bit late inviting you all to be jealous of my chocolate-goodness, but never late than never.

It’s true what they say: less is more, particularly when it comes to good quality chocolate.

We spent this Easter in Melbourne this year, and were lucky enough to uncover this gem while wandering through South Yarra and Chapel Street:  Ganache Chocolate.

M and I decided to spoil each other, by buying each other a chocolate bunny.  As a lover of rich, dark chocolate M bought me the 75 per cent dark chocolate Swiss Bunny and how could I resist getting him the milk and white chocolate Bunny in an egg? (By the way: I do realise that bunnies do not emerge from eggs, but it was still super cute!)

To me, good chocolate is about striking that perfect balance between flavour and texture.  I love dark chocolate for its stronger, less sweet flavour, and the ganache dark chocolate bunny epitomises these qualities.

I highly recommend that the next time you’re in Melbourne you visit Ganache, you will not be able to resist the temptation of buying beautiful handmade pralines or some textural and eye catching chocolate bars – we didn’t, and I suggest everyone try the fig and almond milk chocolate bar. Yum!

A Second New Year

Imagine it: mid April in Thailand.  It's hot, humid with temperatures pushing an average of 31°C, the hottest month in Thailand.

But back to the picture I'm trying to draw you: the streets are teeming with people, water is being flung from buses by the bucket load, people are spraying each other with water guns, people are drenching passers by.  You wonder, what is going on? Well, it's Songkran or Thai New Year.

There is obvious symbolism associated with the use of so much water.  In particular, to cleanse the the bad away and start the year afresh (but it's probably also a reprieve from the heat!).

Being in Australia you don't have to miss the fun.  While we might not have the usual three day celebration (Songkran is celebrated from 13 to 15 April) we do get a one day special: Wat Dhammadaro the Thai Buddhist temple in Canberra holds celebrations each year.  It includes cultural shows and a food fair.  All are welcome and entry is free.

When:   Sunday 15 April 2012, 10:00am to 3:00pm

Where:  Wat Dhammadaro, 80 Archibald Street, Lyneham, ACT

Given the weather in Canberra, water fights are not guaranteed!

Summer reading: The Year of Living Dangerously

I think I might have failed my Summer reading list challenge.  In fact I know I have. 

You be the judge: of the five books mentioned I have only finished reading four of them, one outside of the allotted summer time frame, and only ploughing through the final one as we speak.  I did, however, read a fifth book that was not included on the list (Jennifer Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad, maybe more on that some other time, or check out the ABC’s First Tuesday Book Club review).

Now to the task at hand: reviewing The Year of Living Dangerously.

I’ve been told that the novel is based on, or inspired by, the experiences of CJ Koch’s brother, Philip Koch, who was an ABC foreign correspondent based in Jakarta during the 1960s.

Recipe road test: Hot cross buns from Matthew Evans' The Real Food Companion

This entry is inspired by the spirit of all the things that are good about Easter – chocolate eggs, fish on Good Friday and, of course, hot cross buns.

To bring to fruition this Easter inspiration I delved into my collection of cook books trying to find a suitable recipe.  That’s when I came across this gem, in Matthew Evans’ The Real Food Companion.

The Real Food Companion by Matthew Evans

A SEA of love for South East Asia

I have been putting off writing this post for some time.  It’s as if it symbolises the end of the adventure.  Truthfully, it has more to do with the fact that I don’t know where to start.   Logically, the beginning would seem like a good place, but after ruminating on this issue for some time, I’ve decided that I don’t want this to be a blow-by-blow travelogue-esque type blog.  No.  So in the end it’s not quite that simple.

We’ve travelled to South East Asia a few times over the years.  There is something about the place that keeps drawing us back in.  It goes beyond the mere fact that I have Thai heritage, because I have a love for more than just Thailand.  In all of our adventures to the place I have always been impressed by one thing.  No, it’s not the culture or the food.  Nor is it the history or the pristine natural environments.  Yes, all of these things are amazing.  But it’s the memory of the people that has always struck a chord with me.

Village boy at the warung near Sunda Kelapa

An impromptu village sing-a-long