Aussie birds

Wedge-tailed Eagle - no prizes for guessing the shape of its tail! Commonly called a Wedgie, it's a striking bird in both senses of the word. In the air, they're elegant and graceful; their 2 metre wingspan catches any updrafts or breezes and they appear to glide without effort high in the thermals. However on the ground, when feeding on road-kill and carrion, they're often killed by rapidly approaching cars or road-trains as their heavy bodies are unable to move quickly enough to escape a vehicle bearing down on them. They hop awkwardly, lumbering and slowly flapping their large, apparently heavy wings.

We have friends who (before they began travelling) planned to move all carcasses off outback roads to help protect these magnificent birds, but their good deed went unfulfilled as there were too many bodies to shift in any one day. They'd never have gone further than a few kilometres before stopping, donning protective gloves and dragging heavy, distinctly odorous carcases off the road.

Males weigh around 3 kilos, and females around 4 kilos - the wing-span can be up to 2.5 metres helping them soar up to 2 km and stay air-born for up to 90 mins. Wedgies mate for life, but will rarely produce young during drought. I love their delicate feathery pantaloons which are at odds with their hard sharp claws and strong beak.

The Emu is more commonly referred to in picnic areas as "that bloody bird that tried to pinch my lunch".  In picnic areas where they scavenge for food, they can become aggressive, demanding and distinctly intimidating at a robust 2+ metres (6'6") high.

In the bush, however, they're shy, timid, fast and possibly stupid as they seem to try to run alongside a vehicle moving at around 70kph (40+mph), sometimes veering off-course in front of said vehicle to be splattered messily on the roadside. There, they become a feast for birds of prey, dingoes, some lizards, insects and assorted other creatures that clean up carcasses.

The males generally incubate their large eggs, and are the primary carers for the chicks. As they become teenagers they have that distinct gawky, gangly appearance and seem to trip over themselves and each other as their curiosity gets the better of caution. Domestically, emus are farmed for their eggs, their leathery skin and their oils.

I've just had a look at some information on the web about emus. They're described as "very docile, curious, playful and friendly". Where do these people get their information? Don't believe it. In the bush, they are a wild bird and should be treated a such.

Emus can be curious, but you're the intruder into their territory and they shouldn't be approached as if they're a domestic pet. They aren't. They're powerful, have sharp claws, very strong legs for kicking and a strong beak.

Coming face to face with an emu at a picnic is not always a charming, fun experience. They're big and ugly. OK, that's possibly an unfair value statement about beauty, but finding yourself unexpectedly close up, you'd never use the word friendly. When you've got that head and beak coming at your lunch from over your shoulder, you tend to have a lot of respect for the power available to them. They can be very focused on a free feed and don't always take kindly to a refusal to share your lunch. They'll protect themselves their interests and their young, just the same as we will when threatened.

Delicate emu feathers with a found gold ear-ring on the largest, heaviest red-gum sleeper picnic table I've ever seen. Farina Station & historic town SA.

.

What was he thinking?

The car with its hefty caravan pulls up in a flurry of dust and stones. She gets out and looks with wonder at the white, salt encrusted lake, camera clicking with rapid fire enthusiasm. He lumbers out, scowling with disgust. This does not bode well. I detect a lack of shared interest even before she approaches; friendly, curious, questioning.

How far to the lake? Can you get down to it? How long would it take? What is the surface like? Is there water? Can you fish? So many questions - so little time. He's already slammed the door and is revving the engine, impatient to leave. He taps his watch with meaningful, sour-faced irritation. With a last longing glance and final photo, she scurries to the passenger seat and clicks the seat belt to secure herself firmly next to Mr Grump.

Oh dear.  A holiday in the desert with long, long distances between habitation, is not the place to discover you have different needs and interests. Entwined in their dance of dissatisfaction and mutual frustration, this interlude highlights what can go wrong when the needs of one are dismissed with irritated indifference.

Lake Hart, whilst it may have been flooded earlier in the year has reverted to its more usual state - producing salt in abundance. It wouldn't rate on Great Fishing Destinations of the World. To turn up anticipating all the rigmarole of a fishing destination was either foolish or naive. The unhappy reality is that there are no cheerful jettys and boat-ramps crowded with like minded fisherfolk, casting lines into fresh, azure water, sharing information about bait and lures in a cheerful hubbub of camaraderie.

Lake Hart, is a salt lake, like most in central Australia. Flooding is rare, yet when it happens sea birds appear as if by magic to feed from the rich waters and breed in the surrounds. Even at its height, it's not the spot for a city fisherman, no matter how strongly he wishes.  

Cocooned close to a sour, pouting partner who is affronted that his plans have been stymied would be a challenge. He appears like the spoilt child who had been promised sweets but the bag broke and everyone around will pay with his sulking offended intolerance.

The gift of an hour or less is all that was needed. Hardly generous in the scheme of things. An hour out of a three week holiday. Evident only is snarling dismissiveness at her curiosity, at her pleasure in the stark beauty and surreal aspect of the unexpected treasure that is Lake Hart.

Much later, at the camp ground at Woomera, we overhear his surly tone bemoaning the lack of fishing. He's spent the long afternoon, sitting on his softly padded chair in the dust, scowling over the corrugated iron fence toward the far distant horizon.

Desperate to communicate, she has sought out female company, finds herself welcomed, nurtured and accepted.

Later, much later, after walking around the strange town that is Woomera, watching the sun set over the desert, we startle an emu spying for camp dinner leftovers, then see the tightly shuttered van, the flickering of the TV, holding two pinched, unhappy, shrivelled souls.

These long hours, sadly wasted in the choking dust of non-communication and unfulfilled needs. He won't be happy till he's home in his familiar fishing grounds, surrounded by the sameness and uneventful familiarity of knowing what to expect. It's going to be a long drive back if he chooses not to shake off his annoyance that the environment didn't submit to his expectations. The flimsy caravan walls can barely contain the discontent of their respective unmet needs.

.

I've been having a lot of trouble with Blogger lately. Posts won't save easily and photos can take ages to load. I'm giving Wordpress a trial and have repeated this post here ...

Small beach treasures

Fragile, delicate perfect:

Minute fish with bright shiny eyes, gazing at nothing. Too fragile to brush the sand away to better show the elegance of its exquisite spine, perfectly exposed from eye to tail through the translucent flesh. Delicate colouring of silvers, greys and blues. In the sea, it would have been almost impossible to see, not much easier to notice on the beach with so many other larger things vying for attention.

The swim or float bladder of an unidentified fish. The bladder helps the fish float at different depths in the water. It can contract or expand to assist in buoyancy - as the bladder expands the fish becomes lighter and floats up, as it contracts, the fish becomes less buoyant and it sinks. This one was about the size of the palm of my (rather small) hand.

This is possibly (said in a very hesitant tone of voice) a fish egg sac. It was about the size and texture of a jelly bean. I didn't try to break one open, which in hindsight might have been interesting - I'd like to have had a better look at the little confetti like shapes inside. For a couple of days the high tide mark was scattered with hundreds of these little things. 

Focusing on getting a half way decent photo meant I was oblivious to other beach goers, until I became aware of someone staring at me with undisguised wariness from a few metres away. "I'm not a crazy lady taking photos of my fingers ... I promise!" My words of reassurance were followed by a horrified look and rapid scuttling off through the damp sand. It's always hard to know how others view you, and in this instance my words were clearly not reassuring!

How many people had strolled past, lost in their own thoughts or worries, with no idea that the battle to live had been lost by so many creatures under their feet, yet leaving a trail of delicate beauty for us to wonder at?

.

Meatless Monday. Nutty 'sausage' rolls.

What do sausage rolls taste of and what is their defining aspect?

Commercial ones don't necessarily contain meat in any significant quantity and what meat there is, is likely to include tail, head, cheek, gristle, sinew, tongue, and lashings of fat. Of course there is the addition of a bewildering array of chemicals to prolong the "life" and make the low grade ingredients taste palatable - though I'm not sure how accurate that last word is.

To me, the defining aspect of a commercial sausage roll is the addition of gristle. It can be awkward at a party where the offerings are of the cheapest, nameless variety, to find a piece of gristle rolling around your mouth unable to be masticated. Do you swallow it, or somehow attempt to secrete it surreptitiously in a paper napkin? Almost worse is when a piece of gristle gets stuck between your teeth - never a good look when you try to fish it out with a fingernail ... and what do you do with it then?

My daughter enthusiastically shared the following vegetarian version of a sausage shaped roll with the delighted comment that a guest (a committed anti-vegetarian) came back for seconds, saying "These are soooo meaty, they're great!" and was lost for words to find out there wasn't a skerrick of meat in them.

The recipe comes from retromummy, and I can confidently vouch that they're easy to make, have great flavour and are able to deceive meat eaters, not that that was the point of the exercise, but it was interesting.

I don't understand why the mixture which doesn't look anything special in the kitchen whiz, looks remarkably like a commercially prepared sausage roll when it's cooked. The only thing lacking was the gristle - and the horrible taste.

Due to a completely disorganised day, I relented and used a commercially prepared puff pastry - next time I'll make my own non-puff pastry, using the same recipe as for the mushroom pie.

Nutty 'sausage' rolls

Ingredients

• an onion
• 100gram nuts - I used macadamia, pine, almonds and walnuts. Pecans would also be good.
• small bunch of herbs - I added parsley, coriander, oregano & vietnamese mint. Basil would have been a tasty addition, but I didn't have any.
• 2 cloves garlic
• sprinkle of chilli flakes
• a grind of pepper
• 3 eggs
• 150gram fetta (apparently tofu works well too - try the firm one as the silken variety might be too damp)
• 100gram oats - I like the mixed ones (oats, barley, wheat, rye, buckwheat)
• 2 tbsp soy sauce
• 1/2 cup breadcrumbs (I didn't have any, so used more oats)
• 3 sheets of puff pastry

Method

• find Kitchen Whiz
• Buzz the onion and nuts
• Add the herbs and pepper and buzz briefly 
• Plonk the wet ingredients in, followed by the oats a bit more slowly and buzz till the mix resembles coarse breadcrumbs and sticks together easily

• Cut the puff pastry in half
• Place sausage shaped mounds of mixture along the length of the pastry
• Roll and brush with milk or beaten egg
• Place on baking tray (I used oven paper so they wouldn't stick)
• cut into bite sized portions

Bake at 200 degrees C for about 20 - 30 mins. Keep an eye on them because they go golden ... then suddenly burn.

Pastry recipe

• 225 g flour
• 115 g butter
• 1 tblsp fresh chopped oregano
• 1/4 cup cold water - use just enough to bind
• a grind of salt

Buzz in the kitchen whiz till combined. Roll thinly, then lay sausage shaped logs of mixture on the long edge. Roll to encase the mixture, place on baking tray, brush with milk, cut into bite sized portions and bake as above.

Sorry about the poor quality of the photo of the end result. My young guests were hungry and it seemed mean to ask them to wait so I could take a photo. Naturally, I then completely forgot so these have been in the frig overnight and don't look their best. But they still taste great cold with a swirl of tomato sauce or a dollop of chutney!

• 
  

.

End of the world at Urunga?

Nothing gave the slightest hint of the breathtaking view around the corner from the rather humdrum boardwalk.  Perhaps humdrum isn't particularly descriptive - or fair. One kilometre of solid structure from the small town of Urunga to the breakwater, built between a beautiful estuary and mangroves.  These mangroves are taller and grow less densely than the ones on Westernport Bay and look more like a watery forest.

Mangroves provide safe breeding grounds for many varieties of fish, crustacean and sanctuary for birds from as far away as Siberia. I could lean over the rail and see shoals of minute fish, as well as toadies and crabs, and although the area is apparently known as being a magnificent fishing spot, there were few fisherfolk around. (More on Mangroves here)

I was engrossed in watching the clash between the waters trying to exit the river with the waves determined to make their way into the river - waves swirled and sucked menacingly even though it was a calm day. These are unfriendly waters and even on the hottest day wouldn't attract swimmers. I paused occasionally to making polite, innocuous conversation with locals and fellow tourists and found myself at the end of the boardwalk somewhat unexpectedly.

It was one of those occasions when I suspect my jaw dropped and my eyes goggled. The contrast between the civilised, constained environment to a vast beach, deep in flotsam and jetsam was riveting. This wasn't just the usual detritus from a thoughtless society discarding garbage into waterways. That's become so common it would have been expected and barely worth a mention.

I'm standing in front of the triangular structure.
A square one is to the right near the dune.

The vast, long beach was deserted apart from a few tiny ant-like people in the far distance. Only a few islands between here and South America, so nothing much to catch debris from storms lashing lands far away.  Caught by the breakwater were deep mounds of twigs, branches, roots and large bleached tree trunks, swirled and swept high up the white sandy beach by local tides and violent storms, swept far higher up the beach than high tides would normally reach.

But as if that wasn't enough, someone, or more likely a group of people, had worked to balance and weave tree trunks, branches, boards and twigs into artistic structures; apparent dwellings. Not one, but a group. Some box like with low openings, others triangular shaped. Sandy footprints showed that many others had stood and stared. Now, all were deserted, no life, not even a bird to break the desolation and sense of fragile finality.

Further up the beach, caught on a large log, something organic draped thickly, blanketing metres of sand and debris, with the faint whiff of decay in the warm sun.  It looked like it had been there for a while and would be there for some time to come before it rotted completely. It felt like a scene from a movie about the end of the world, where every living thing has been removed unexpectedly, leaving the evidence of life, creativity and footprints to vanish in the wind and tides.

Further along still, a lone piece of tree appeared disguised as an animal, crouching, wary and watchful, frozen in time, not knowing whether to stay or try its chance for survival elsewhere.

.

Lennox Head - whale watching!

A whale calf and its mother

swim close to shore.

We watch in quiet delight.

A night out at "Dodgy Dumplings" and Koyaanisqatsi

"Mum, I know you're stressing, but it'll be ok, I promise, I know this place."

We've only got an hour to have dinner before we walk back to the theatre, and I don't like rushing. However my son was insistent and persuasive "They're fast AND cheap", so we began striding through the crowded city streets. Well, the blokes strode, I  scampered.

Where are all these people going? It's Tuesday night for goodness sake. What are they doing? My little feet and short legs ache to keep up with the long gait of the blokes. I've put on thick woolly socks to keep my feet warm, but as a result, my "going out boots" are a bit tight on this chilly winters evening. My toes hurt and I'm feeling a tad grumpy. I'm cold, hungry and rushed.

Eyes avert as we dodge religious spruikers, but glance with curiosity at someone dressed in a minotaur mask flanked by two women and being trailed by a young man with a video camera. A student film group perhaps. No time to ponder. Rush past the ever present sellers of The Big Issue and assorted people rattling tins hoping for a donation. (Are they genuine? It could be anyone who has stuck a "Help the Homeless" sticker on a tin.)

North along a major street, right up a lane then north again up a darkening alley. Beyond graffiti!

Does this place even have a name?  Arrive breathless to find a welcome lack of queue which is good, but ... there's a certain aroma that's not so good, possibly old food and lacklustre drains and infrequent garbage disposal. Thankfully my nostrils adjust quickly.

We're directed to a table in the corner. Other diners pull their seats in for us to squeeze snugly past with the sort of familiarly I usually reserve for treasured friends.

Tattered menus are presented without fanfare, no specials board, a faded A4 sheet stickey taped to the chipped yellowing wall advertising a meagre selection of drinks. "Don't bother", says my son, "they never have any. Well just have water." Not concentrating I promptly ask for a bottle of ice-tea. "No have" oh, ok it's not just that they don't have beer or soft drinks, they only have water!

Before I've even opened the sticky, torn and dogeared menu, my son has ordered. "If you don't get in quick you might have to wait" My goodness this is fast - he really does know this place!

While I'm exploring the strategically placed condiments, cheap and cheerful plastic picnic cups, looking for all the world like what we had when we were young, are plonked damply on the recently cleared table. They're followed by a Decor container of water which sloshes gaily across the table adding to the general wetness. Definitely not fine dining!

We begin to exchange pleasantries and barely start to catch up on the week's events when an unflustered, efficient young man unloads plastic plates of slippery dumplings unceremoniously on the table. Did we go into some sort of timewarp? We've only just ordered. They must have had them waiting!

I suspect these young waiters know their physics. They have an unerring ability to slide laden plates of dumplings, known for being a skiddy kind of food, onto the tables without mishap. They know exactly how much thrust is possible to save the diner a lapful of steaming hot, oyster sized, dumpling.

If this place had a motto it'd be
Get em in
Feed em
Get em out
Repeat.

Like a conjurer, our gently smiling waiter delivers assorted plastic plates of dumplings, from between, behind and over the heads of other diners. They neither notice, nor care, heads bowed over their own plates of squelchy morsels. No words exchanged till the end: "You enjoy?" he asks with concern. He beams when we answer with honest, enthusiastic yesses.

And with time to spare, we make it to the theatre, tummy's full, chatter shared. As for "Dodgy Dumpings", what should to all intents and purposes be a stagnant backwater of Melbournes dining scene, it's a fast food experience that fitted our requirements perfectly.

On a scale of 1 - 10, with with 1 low, and 10 high.
1 - Decor
1 - Presentation
1 - Mindful eating
1 - Tantalising menu
1 - Ambience
10 - Value for money (under $30 for three hungry adults)
10 - Taste
10 - Efficient service
9 - Entertainment value

Next stop, the New Hamer Hall at the Arts Centre to experience the first of the Qatsi Trilogy, Koyaanisqatsi: Life Out of Balance with Philip Glass and The Philip Glass Ensemble.
My review of Koyaanisqatsi is over at traverselife.

Giant vase of gladioli from Dame Edna Everage
to celebrate the opening of the New Hamer Hall.

.

Do you sci-ku? I do!

A couple of days ago I came across something called sci-ku.

"Sci-ku" you mutter in a perplexed tone, "What's that?"

It's the meeting of science and haiku ... sort of, but with the strict syllabic requirements of haiku put aside.

There's even an annual competition in Australia!  This year, there is a farming or agricultrual theme to celebrate the Australian Year of the Farmer!

Aussies, feel free to enter here, anyone else could post their sci-ku on Twitter (if it's short enough) or G+, with the hash tag #sci-ku.

The winning entries from 2011 are here.

Tribute to the humble Ferguson tractor,
showing the height of the 1956 floodwaters.

Wentworth, nineteen fifty six

Month after month of incessant rain.
Rivers rise menacing - floods inundate the region.
Fergies save the day!

Some more information about the devastation of the 1956 floods and the role of farmers with their Ferguson tractors in saving the NSW town of Wentworth is here.

.

The best way to visit Venice?

What's the best way to see Venice before it gets transported to China or the US to become a massive theme park?

One of my friends insists the only way to travel is by cruise liner, stopping a night, or at most two, at each port. She loves the security of knowing where she'll be sleeping, never having to find accommodation and wonder if it might be a bit too 'local' or unconventional. She happily anticipates a certain standard of food and service, and appreciates knowing what to expect at all times. For the same reason she prefers to frequent a specific chain of international hotels and stick with it where possible. She knows the layout of the room and facilities ahead of time, the staff will speak English, there are no surprises and the bed will be fine!

On a much anticipated trip to Europe a few years ago, the hubster and I chose to be a bit more random and travel only with a carry-on backpack and flexible plans. Where possible we chose local, non chain, owner-operated hotels and followed our noses to choose bakeries and restaurants.  We had some spectacular failures and jaw dropping "they've got to be joking" moments - but I wouldn't have changed anything for love nor money.

In Venice we arrived as passengers from a tourist liner were disembarking and got talking to a couple who were about our age. They quizzed us intently about travelling with carry on luggage, at first disbelieving and then with growing envy. They felt trapped, unable to explore at a leisurely pace and discovered that they disliked the shipboard culture and expectations which they'd expected to embrace wholeheartedly.

I'm not saying one way of travel is better than another. However, it's important to be in sync with your travelling companion so that one person isn't grinding their teeth with annoyance while the other is revelling in an adventure into the unknown.

This cruise liner dwarfs Venice.

How do you like to travel?
.

Meatless Monday: Mushroom Pie Floater

Food never seems to be far from my mind, whether planning meals, or wondering if I'm out of a particular ingredient necessary for a recipe, or thinking how a meal could have been improved.

So, there I was last week without any hint of an idea what to cook for dinner when my lovely neighbour (MLN for short) appeared at the door with a bundle of dried lavender to use in the fire so we could enjoy the wonderful fragrance.

Naturally we got to sharing recipes. MLN is a great cook, and generous sharer of home grown vegetables. She also teaches people on a tight budget how to cook nutritious meals .

I confess, my eyes bulged when MLN said she'd recently taught the class how to cook a Pie Floater.

Could I have misheard? It appeared not. I checked to see if she was joking, but no, she was quite serious. I was skeptical to say the least.

My first introduction to the concept of a Pie Floater was from a South Australian drooling over the memory of eating one at an Adelaide railway station on a cold winter evening. It sounded disgusting.

This did not bode well. But MLN is honest, reliable and, so far, totally trustworthy with recipes, so naturally I had to give it a go.

Here's her version, my vegetarian offering follows.

MLN's Pie Floater
Serves 2.

Purchase a 2 pack of good quality frozen pies
500 gm frozen peas (she liked the minted variety)
about 1 cup boiling water

Cook the pies according to the directions on the pack.

Meanwhile put the frozen peas in a saucepan, add boiling water to almost cover. Cook about 10 mins. Buzz with a wand or food processor. The soup should be very thick.

Ladle soup into bowls, place the pie in an elegant fashion into the soup, swirl tomato sauce on top and enjoy.

I had to eat my unexpressed comments! I'd been hesitant to sample this culinary weirdness, but it was not only delicious, the different textures of crunchy pastry, hot meaty filling and buzzed peas were brilliant together. It was also fun to make as well as being a visual delight.

And of course, being me, I just had to tinker with the recipe the second time...oh, ok the first time too ;-)

Verdant green soup - suitable for pie floater - serves 4

• About 500 gms frozen peas
• olive oil - about 1 tablespoon
• 1 onion - chopped
• chilli
• garlic
• 1 vegetable stock cube & about 1 cup boiling water (or fresh stock) 
• slosh of white wine (1/4 cup?)

Sizzle the onion, garlic and chilli in the olive oil 'till softened. Slosh in some white wine. Add the frozen peas and approx 1 cup boiling water and stock cube (or stock) Simmer for around 10 mins. Whizz with a wand or whatever implement you have - a bit lumpy is fine. (A potato masher would work well if you don't have anything else).

Now for the absolutely amazing mushroom pie. The original recipe came from veggienumnum.com, a wonderful site well worth spending time drooling over!

I'd planned to follow the recipe, truly! But .... well, it just didn't happen that way - I didn't quite have the right ingredients, and there were some useful leftovers in the frig that needed to be used up. Here's my version.

Marvellous Mushroom Pie - Serves 4

Filling:

• olive oil or butter - about 1 tablespoon
• 1/2 large onion chopped (or 1 smallish one, or a leek)
• garlic - I used 3 very large cloves
• chilli - as much as you enjoy
• a slosh of white wine
• 2 large handfuls of button mushrooms - sliced
• 1 large field mushroom - chopped roughly
• 1 large handful of mixed exotic mushrooms - sliced (those wibbly unfamiliar ones from the supermarket unless you really know what you're picking in the wild)
• flour to thicken - about 1 tablespoon
• Stock or stock cube. I only needed about 1/2 cup
• The original recipe called for yogurt, but I had about 8 ping-pong ball sized bocconcini left over from something else, which was an excellent addition.

Heat oil or butter, add onion, garlic, chilli. Sizzle. Add wine, stir. Add mushrooms. Stir. (There seems to be a huge quantity, but they soften and shrink)

Add stock (or boiling water and stock cube) Simmer gently for about 10 minutes. Sprinkle the flour on top gently and evenly or it goes lumpy, and stir to blend it in. (The keen cook will make a swishy sauce, but if you're very careful, this is fine!)

Add the bocconcini and stir till more or less melted. It should be thick. Remove from heat to cool and till you're ready to put it in the pastry.  If you're using yogurt, remove the pan from the heat first. 

Pastry: (easy - honestly!) enough for a 35cm pie dish

• 225 g flour (I used attar which mixes and rolls very easily and seems to stick together better than the standard type)
• 115 g butter
• 1 tablespoon fresh chopped oregano (the original recipe used dried thyme which would be lovely too)
• just enough cold water to bind - about 1/4 cup - add slowly as it's easy to overdo it.

I added the flour, a grind of salt and oregano then cut in the butter using two blunt knives (held together to make two blades) to make it look like breadcrumbs.

Add a trickle of water at a time and mix - it shouldn't be sloppy or too sticky.  Divide it very roughly into 1/3 and 2/3. The larger for the base of the pie dish, the smaller for the top. Roll the larger out on a floured board to fit the base of the greased pie dish. Fill with the marvellous mushroom mixture. Roll out the smaller piece and place on top. Pinch the top and bottom together. You could use a pastry brush to paint about a tablespoon of milk over the pastry. I didn't have one, so used my super clean fingers. Make a couple of vents with a knife to let the steam escape.

Cook in a 180 degree C oven for 30 mins or until brown on top.

The original recipe calls for chilling the pastry, but I was running late and didn't want to wait. It worked fine!

You'll notice that I didn't mention individual pie plates. I cut the cooked pie into quarters and collated the pie floater as above. It was stupendous, delicious, scrumptious and simply so amazing that I went out and purchased 4 little pie plates for next time... because there will be many next times!

I'm a convert to pie floaters, and now wonder at my undeniable prejudice toward this wonderful invention.

Sorry about the lack of photo of the marvellous mushroom pie floater, but you know how it is sometimes, food takes precedence over photography ;-)
.

A blast from the past, or how do you describe an EP?

"A what?" I hear you say with a politely perplexed tone of voice.

"An EP! There's more on them than on a single."

"Pardon?" you say as you scratch your head and wonder if you've missed some new whiz-bang electronic gizmo. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"It's what we used to listen to music on. EP stands for Extended Play. They're a bit like a USB...sort of. Or perhaps a better description is a portable music device, kind of like an iPod, but they only hold about 8-10 minutes of music...And you need a record player to listen to them on."


You can see how this is going to go. Parents living in the dark ages. The time of the dinosaurs. Blah, blah, blah. How did you survive etc. Gosh, singles and EP's were better than 78's! So portable! The freedom to play the music you wanted to hear when you wanted!!


We had some great music way back then. Just look at what I found in the boxes of mum's diaries that have been in the roof :-)  (I blogged about them more seriously here). Somehow these gems must have been tucked away amongst her diaries when we were packing the house. Whoohoo! 


Now, how to listen to them?

.


Still having formatting problems. Sigh.


.

Meatless Monday: For those who detest Cauliflower Soup

Mills Beach. Mornington.

It's cold in Melbourne, and after a long bracing walk along the beach and up the cliff, I wanted soup for lunch to help warm me up.

Cauliflower isn't my favourite vegetable, but it was cheap and in season, so I'd bought one yesterday ... because it seemed a good idea, not because I really wanted one. So, there I was walking along planning Cauliflower soup - until I got distracted by a group of animated geology students discussing rock formations with more hand waving and enthusiasm than you would have thought possible. I felt sorry for the students as I imagined them picnicking on the beach.
But maybe they ended up at the pub which would have been pleasant :-)

Cauliflower Soup
Ingredients

• onion - 1 small - roughly chopped
• garlic - 1 large clove - chopped
• chilli - sprinkle of dried
• potato - 1 extra large - roughly chopped
• cauliflower - 1/4 chopped or broken into bits, including the stem
• a shake of salt and a grind of pepper
• stock cube or stock
• about a teaspoon or so of Tikka Masala paste
• a small slosh of white wine (not necessary, but the cask isn't very nice so it seems a good use for it)
• a smidge of olive oil or butter

Method

• Melt butter or heat oil, add onion, garlic & chilli. Stir till sizzling then add the small slosh of wine just to stop it sticking. 
• Add the potato and cauliflower and stir.
• Add soup stock (or water and stock cube) and Tikka Masala paste. The stock doesn't need to cover the vegetables entirely.

The cauliflower soup cooked in about 20 minutes, I buzzed it with the wand thing and ate it with a dollop of yogurt and a sprinkle of coriander. It was good and didn't taste strongly of cauliflower.

I've never grown coriander successfully before, but this year I have mounds of it. I've made Coriander Pesto which is nice as a dip with fresh veggies and just discovered that I've managed to dry some by leaving it in an open container of the bench. (I'd chopped it to use on something earlier in the week). The wood heater in the evening and general chill the rest of the time must have provided just the right conditions! 

I've cut a bunch, chopped it and laid it on a plate to see if I can repeat the drying process - it'd be great to have some stored for when the plants die off.


Any suggestions for additions?


*I have no idea why the formatting shows white behind some areas, that's new but I can't be fussed trying to figure it out.
.

Meatless Monday - Mushroom soup

Grey soup? Bleah
Mushrooms? Yech

Whoa! It's not that bad, mushrooms can do taste good and this soup is really easy to cook.

Ingredients: 

• Garlic, of course
• Chilli, naturally! 1 small killer one if you're game, or a shake or two of dried
• Potatoes, 3-4 small, roughly chopped. I left the skin on - fibre is good for us
• Onions, 2 small, again roughly chopped - peeled because onion skin doesn't taste good
• Mushrooms, a few generous handfulls, roughly chopped. Wild would be good if you're confident you know what you're picking. Note: Please be extremely confident if you harvest wild mushrooms. People die slowly and painfully from organ failure when they get it wrong. 
• Salt and pepper. A pinch of the first and a grind of the second. 
• Butter, a small dollop
• Wine, a decent slosh
• Stock or a stock cube. Possibly a cup or two, maybe a bit more 

• Yogurt for topping
• Parsley or coriander to add colour

Method:

• Melt butter (it tastes nicer than olive oil in this soup) I use salt free
• Add onion, garlic, chilli, s & p and stir till it smells wonderful
• Pour a glass of wine, check quality, slosh some in the pan - by this time, the smell is heavenly
• Add potato, stir while you sample the wine again. You may need to add a bit more if it's evaporated too fast 
• When the potato has softened a bit add the mushrooms and stir
• Add stock to almost cover the veggies. I didn't have any fresh so used a chicken stock cube and boiling water
• and that's pretty much it. Bring to a simmer, enjoy the wine then buzz the soup enthusiastically carefully so it doesn't splatter all over the kitchen which is a real pain to clean, especially when it dries and gets baked onto the stovetop.

Enjoy with a slice of wholegrain toast. I think this soup would be good with brown lentils. Next time I'll rinse a handful and add them at the same time as the mushrooms. Please don't use the canned variety, it's so easy to use dried ones and then you know there aren't any additives.

Sadly, I forgot to take a picture of the first bowl and had to go back for seconds to get a photo ;-) See how the coriander makes it look less boring. Arty types will manage to make the yogurt look elegant - I was more interested in functionality! A sprinkle of paprika would also look (and taste) good, or for the real fire lovers, some fresh chopped chilli.
.

Scrumptious lunch time *sanga

*Sanga = sandwich

With a Scandinavian "open" aspect.

Ingredients
bread or biscuits
cheese
avocado
vegemite

The avocado was a bit sad, but I ignored the icky bits.

I only had pre-sliced cheese, and the pack had been left open so it was dry and curled at the edges, but it did the job.

And of course, yummy, yeasty food in a jar (aka Vegemite)  ;-)

Of course this would be perfectly fine without the bread or biscuits, they're really only a vehicle to prevent sticky fingers.

This suggestion came from a comment on a thread on G+. Thankyou! I've been assured that tomato, vegemite and cheese is also a great sandwich filling, but I have yet to try that delectable taste sensation.

Further suggestions are welcome!

Addition: One excellent breakfast or lunch suggestion which I've adopted is:
toast
vegemite
scrambled egg
avocado
a wedge of tomato on the side
and handsomely topped with a sprig of parsley

drool ....... :-p


.

A Queenly mug

And a King too.

Some of you know I'm slowly sifting through the tonnes of books, pamphlets, letters, diaries, bric-a-brac and assorted stuff left by my parents. Amongst what can only be described as "why on earth did they have that bit of kitsch - it's horrible!" are a few gems.

Our current Queen was just 11 years old when someone purchased this commemorative mug and it  found its way to Australia and ended up with me. There would have been a lot of pomp and excitement back then too, but no colour photos, internet and instant sharing like we have now.  Celebration on this scale is something the Brits do well, so it should be quite a spectacle!

I don't think I'll put it through the dishwasher ;-)

Over at traverselife I've procrastinated about sifting through my mother's diaries and unearthed a small skeleton or two.
.
.

Meatless Monday Recipe. Spinach Pie - of sorts

ROAST PUMPKIN, SPINACH AND RICOTTA PIE

Serves 6 - Hah! I don't think so! You could stretch it that far if you have a large salad or other vegies to accompany it which I didn't.

Prep time - 15 minutes ... not the way I cook ... I started by wandering outdoors and picking the spinach (or silver beet because that's all I had) peered in the frig wondering which beer would complement the meal best, then poured said beer, (home-brew: Mexican Cerveza for starters) composed and sent an email ... you get the picture.

Cooking time - around an hour from the time it goes into the oven - that would have been more or less accurate if I hadn't changed the recipe. There's the extra 1/2 hour baking the pumpkin first though, so you need to factor that in.

Ingredients -

• Half a large butternut pumpkin (750g) cut into a 2cm dice. I only had 1/2 a golden sweet potato and 1/4 Japanese pumpkin. It was fine. It just needs to be a dense pumpkin, and not one of those watery, airy ones.

• 2/3 cup light olive oil (or vegetable oil) Light!! I don't think so, first cold pressed for me. I used less though.

 • 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

 • 1/2 teaspoon salt

 • 1/4 teaspoon pepper

 • 2 brown onions, sliced

 • 2 cloves garlic, chopped ... Only 2! Tut, tut, 4, 6, 8 or so is fine. It depends on how closely you'll be working with people the next day really.

 • 100g baby spinach ... I used more silver beet (Swiss Chard?) because that's what I had. Next time I'd probably double it I think, or even add some parsley or coriander if I didn't have enough other greens.

 • 6 eggs

 • 1 cup self-raising flour ... I used 1/2 wholemeal, 1/2 white. I could have added a spoon of soy for extra oomph.

 • 1 cup grated tasty cheese

 • 250g tub ricotta ... I used 500g because that's what I'd bought and I didn't want any leftovers.

Next time I'd also add some chilli and roasted pine nuts.

Method 

1. Preheat oven to 200C (180C fan forced.)

    Grease and flour a 24cm spring form cake tin. (I used kitchen paper and ignored the greasing. I think any sort of pie dish would be fine).

2. Toss the pumpkin cubes with oil, nutmeg, salt and pepper and roast in a baking tray for 30 minutes or until soft and golden brown.

3. In a frypan over a medium heat, saute onions and garlic in 1 tablespoon olive oil (and the chili if using it). I use a regular saucepan for something like this because it tends to escape messily when you get to the next stage.

4. Take the pan off the heat and toss the spinach through. The spinach will wilt a little. Put the pine nuts in now.

5. In a bowl, beat the 6 eggs. Add the remaining olive oil and mix well. (I forgot to add the extra olive oil, it didn't seem to matter) Add flour and whisk until there are no lumps. (It's quite thick, like a batter, probably because I forgot the extra olive oil and used wholemeal flour.) Stir through the cheese and season with salt and pepper.

6. Remove the pumpkin from the oven and lower the temperature to 180C (160C fan forced). Toss the pumpkin through the onion spinach mixture. The spinach will wilt further.

7. Place half the vegetable mixture in the base of the cake tin and pour half the egg mixture over. Shake the tin to make sure the egg sinks all around the vegetables. Put the other half of the vegetable mixture in and top with the remaining egg mixture and jiggle it to settle.

8. Dollop the ricotta over the top. Using a spoon burrow down a little so that there is some ricotta nestled inside the pie as well... This was a bit of a challenge because I'd decided to double the ricotta. It worked though, and made a lovely deep snowy topping.

9. Bake for 45 minutes or until golden brown and firm in the middle.

Because I'd tinkered with the recipe, it took a lot longer to cook through. At least an hour, possibly more. It eventually became a glorious golden brown and went really well with a bottle of Toohey's Old. This spinach pumpkin ricotta pie would be nice with baked potatoes and coleslaw.


*If you have a child who refuses to eat meatless food, add some bacon or chopped up chorizo sausage when you're cooking the onion

I copied the recipe some time ago, and don't know where it originally came from. 

.

Grumbling about Sir Terry Pratchett

I forgot to say I've got a post over at traverselife on Sir Terry Pratchett and Discworld, here and I've got a beaut vegetarian recipe to share on Monday - it's a variation on spinach pie that's delicious!