Meatless Monday Recipe - Pesto & Pasta

What to do with the mounds of coriander that were wilfully neglected whilst on holiday and to my surprise and delight, flourished?!

Coriander Pesto

• a bunch of coriander - about 5 x 30cm of stalk length with lush leaves. Strip the leaves, rinse and spin around in a tea-towel to get the water off. Best done outdoors if there is a lot of water - you don't want the kitchen floor to be dangerously slippery
• 2 or so cloves of garlic (quantity depending on who you'll be working with the next day - more if you want to offend)
• a squeeze of lemon juice (a half lemon was on the bench looking at me forlornly, I don't usually add lemon, but it worked well in the recipe)
• a *small handfull of pine nuts ... or pistachio/almond/cashew - are all yummy. I roast them in the microwave - 1 minute on high, then shuffle them about, then another minute and so on till they smell scrumptious. Resist attempting to eat them straight out of the microwave - they're dangerously hot. It's possible to roast them in the oven or in a frypan - no need to add oil - keep an eye on them as they burn suddenly and taste horrible if they're burnt.
• a sprinkle of chilli - fresh would be better, perhaps 1/2 of one of those tiny mega hot ones
• a good slosh of olive oil - I use first cold pressed - Aussie of course!
• a grind of pepper
• salt isn't necessary

Buzz in a kitchen whizz or with a buzzy wand Bamix kind of thing.

• now add a *small amount of grated parmesan or similar - buzz again. It should be a consistency that is safe on a biscuit. Not so thick that you cut it with a knife, and not so sloppy that it runs down your fingers and dribbles onto your clothing.  

*Quantities: small handfull is about the size of a small hens egg or what fits into the cupped palm of your hand... as long as it's a small hand

Next: I'll cook up some wholemeal pasta, maybe add a tomato or two, possibly some well cooked chick peas and a very generous dollop of this pesto. I'll possibly top it with some plain yogurt, but maybe not.

Leftovers freeze well in tiny containers or ice cube trays. Do I need to point out if you use ice cube trays they'll need to be REALLY well washed before you use any future ice cubes in a G&T or whiskey.

Coriander Pesto is also scrumptious with cold hard boiled egg, as a sandwich base with some kind of sustainable fish, with cheese or simply as a 'how do I stop eating this' dip on flat bread or bikkies.

**NOTE: This is one of those embarrassing foods that leaves little green bits between your teeth. Be warned!

.

May 5th. Full moon beauty.

Full moon rising, reflected in the mudflats. Near Brisbane QLD.
Technical details: taken with my phone, elbows on the deck for stability.

To the left were little fluffy grey and white clouds, gently coloured, delicate against the subtle pink of the sky.

Right now, the full moon has risen, and the water is glistening and shimmering like sparkling diamonds, which sounds trite and cliched, but it's true! The palm is swaying and clacking in the breeze.

Boats, skitter across the water presumably skippered by fishermen planning "the big catch' at high tide. (Last night must have been good as there are large gutted fish along the intertidal zone). Lights from island homes blink with the movement of the trees.

Cicadas are chattering and Edna the possum (there's a bit more about her here) has woken up, her little pink nose just appeared from between the cushions, and is no doubt planning a night of festivity! I suspect she'll scrabble into her hobnail boots sometime around midnight and thud around the deck with cheerful, joyous delight as I try to sleep. The fruitbats have woken and appear as the classic "bat flying across full moon"... "is this my best angle" photogenic shot which my little point and press has no hope of catching.

Maybe I'll get up at 4am to see if there are any meteors to be seen. Apparently we're zooming through the tails of a couple of comets at the moment. It could be good viewing even with the full moon.

.

Edna the possum

Little ringtail possum, wide eyed and innocent!

Muddy red paw-prints

neatly paired,

track from feast

to slumber between summertime chairs.

Pink toes should be curled in rejuvenating sleep.

Eyes should be closed

snoring gently and dreaming.

Instead, warily awake and alert,

planning her next escapade of bounding gleefully, noisily, persistently, across the grey wooden deck

with joyful abandon ...

- before dawn.

.

Dragon Hills

I'm feeling a bit gushy about geology at the moment. I'll hasten to add that this isn't normal for me, but was brought on by reading a post on G+, 10 Reasons Geologists are Weird. What I haven't mentioned is that my first job after leaving school was with the exploration division of a mining company. I have the sneaking suspicion that working with geologists so closely and interpreting their maps and making them presentable for "the powers that be" did something to my head. Not in a bad way I hasten to add, but just ... something ....

A passing comment on G+ after reading about Weird Geologists led to a conversation about rocks and me posting a photo of a strange (to me) beachside rock formation near my hometown. There were grooves in the rock, and I'd decided that meant it HAD to be glacial! That led to the most intriguing post by Dana Hunter at En Tequila Es Verdad (here) and enabled me to see my home area through a different filter. Wow! What an exciting eye opener.

Now for the Dragon Hills (not their proper title)
I'd planned to post the following pictures some time ago and got sidetracked, but maybe now is a good time. These hills are in Mutawintji in outback New South Wales in the south west of the state. It's semi-arid land, red, and totally entrancing. It was near here that I first saw the International Space Station tumbling and catching the light of the sun in the deep night sky. I waved and called out a silent "hello" to the astronaut scientists working up there.

It's quiet out there. At the campground a few people enjoy the silence and watch the crazy Apostle birds, kangaroos, emus and when we were there packs of ferral goats and their kids. There are no towns for hundreds of kilometres, no distractions, nothing much at all ... except the most stunning, magnificent, awe inspiring scenery imaginable.

In parts it looks for all the world like the scales of dragons. As if they've fallen asleep in strange postures, curled and contorted over millennia. Trickles of water dribble down fissures and support some life: a few scraggly trees, lizards, roos, various birds and unfortunately the ferral goats.

The hills stretch on and on. It's protected Aboriginal land further out, and you need to join a registered tour group to enter - pre-booking would have been advisable as they were booked out a week in advance.

Below, the rocks look like they're dribbling down the slope, creating dangerous looking overhangs. Trees have taken root and cling tenaciously in damp cracks and gullies creating anorexic strands of welcome shade. I'm standing in the top right of the photo gazing in awe, wondering why I'd never heard hint of such a spectacular place. Friends' comment "yeah, it's pretty good" simply doesn't do it justice!

The NSW National Parks department describes the area thus: "The land and waterways, and the plants and animals that live in them, feature in all facets of Aboriginal culture - including recreational, ceremonial, spiritual and as a main source of food and medicine. They are associated with dreaming stories and cultural learning that is still passed on today."

What the Parks Department fails to mention is how breathtaking the area is and that it's worth spending more than a couple of nights out there soaking up the atmosphere.
.

Beer bread ... again ;)

What to do when a new untried recipe for Spelt bread is sending enticing memories of the aroma of freshly baked bread and you realise that the yeast is well past its use by date and is dead? Not just a little bit dead, but has gone grainy in the bottom of the jug where it's meant to be rising with frothy enthusiasm. The water is a putrid muddy yellow and the bubbles on top wouldn't raise a scant teaspoon of flour.

Bring on the beer ;)

The smoky pils that neither hubby nor I like, to be precise.  We still have quite a few bottles left and it's used for flavouring stews and soups. Why not try it instead of yeast! It will only require a little tweak of the recipe here and there, no problems...

So here we have Sue's No Fuss Spelt Beer Bread

Ingredients:

• instead of 7g of yeast, add about 2 teaspoons of baking powder (maybe a bit less next time)
• 1 tablespoon of caster sugar (next time I'll use Manuka honey)
• instead of 1 1/2 cups of warm water, use the same of the Smoky Pils (that's around 375ml) or whatever beer you don't want to drink right now or was a bit of a brewing embarrasement
• 1 1/2 cups wholemeal spelt flour
• 1 1/2 cups white spelt flour (I didn't have that so used bakers white)
• 1 teaspoon sea salt (it was probably lake salt, but who cares)
• I omitted the suggested linseeds and rolled oats and added about 2 tablespoons of sunflower seeds - because I like them - they would be yummy toasted first
• I tablespoon olive oil - I added a good slosh of a local extra virgin one.

Now theoretically you're meant to kneed the dough and all that stuff, but I couldn't get my rings off, so after I plonked everything in the basin, I used a spoon to swish it around a bit like making muffins then flopped it into a greased bread shaped tin. Then straight into the oven at about 200C. I checked after 20 mins and turned the tin around, then "knocked" on it after another 20 mins. A good hollow sound and fantastic smell - I know from experience it's best to wait a bit before cutting freshly baked bread - patience is a virtue and all that stuff, but it was worth it to enjoy it just slightly warm with some fresh bruschetta topping and a slice of cheese. Then the next slice with butter and a local honey.

The difficulty was not scoffing the lot - must remember mindful eating next time.

PERFECT :D

An earlier recipe: Beer Bread!

.

Seals, surf and sex - possibly

Even on a glorious autumn day, it's not hard to imagine the horror of being on a ship bound from Melbourne to Sydney in driving, gale force winds. Watching the tiny light from the Green Cape lightstation getting closer and closer and eventually realising that a treacherous reef would inevitably be struck and that survival would be a matter of fickle luck. Terrifying.

A miserable, dark night, with mountainous seas, splintering timber and bitterly cold water. Of the 86 people the Ly-ee-Moon was carrying,  71 men, women and children perished, their graveyard not far down a peaceful bushy track.  Amongst the passengers was the mother of Australia's only saint, Mary MacKillop. With the assistance of the lightkeeper and staff, amazingly, 15 men survived.

Last week, however, small fishing boats were experiencing a gentle massage from the lazy, undulating swell. They bobbed and swayed; the fishermen oblivious to the perplexed discussion happening atop the cliffs.

"Gee, the kelp is high out of the water over there."

"Nah, that's not kelp, it's seals."

"Can't be. Seals move, that's not moving at all. Didn't realise the rocks went so far out though."

We watched the apparent kelp sway back and forth for a few minutes. Nothing much seemed to be happening, but even so it was unusual.

Out comes the camera to take a pic and enlarge it on the itty-bitty camera screen.

"Yeah, maybe you're right, it does seem to be kelp, definitely not moving. But it's odd allthesame."

Fast forward to yesterday and a closer inspection of the photos enlarged on the computer:

Definitely seals. Now, we've swum with seals a few times, we know they're curious and they're fast, and I've been spooked a few times when one has shot up from the murky depths like a rocket (or shark) and spun around to peer into my mask. Our experience is that they're cheeky and not known for loitering about. These weren't feeding, the apparent lack of movement puts paid to that idea, but could they have been mating? They were pretty static in the water which is why we thought it was kelp (we were quite a distance away) and the closeness of their flippers would suggest that.

Can anyone shed light on this behaviour for me?

Thanks to Felicitas Avendano from G+ for providing the following link that could shed light on the behaviour: They might have been "rafting" or "jughandling" - basically not doing much at all!

.

International Women's Day. Inspiring women.

Aunty Rene 1957

Isn't she great! I love that she's so proudly and confidently adopting a new mode of transport and maybe even flouting convention by doing so. Yet she still looks so "proper" and "no nonsense" with her straight back and thick warm coat and gloves. No dangerously flowing Isadora Duncan scarf for her!

I imagine Aunty Rene to be a strong, feisty woman, determined to make her own path in the post war English countryside when money was short and family life challenging. I know too little about her, and never met her, but she's influenced me and inspired me to embrace new technologies - even when they seem alien and unfriendly.

And although one of my blogging buddies (some of you know Roberto of Roberto's Report) suggested that it's never to late to become a bikie chick and follow in my aunt's footsteps that's one mode of transport that I'm unlikely to adopt!

Who inspires you?

Meatless Monday Recipe: Carrot Soup ... sort of.

I'm sitting here licking my fingers and peering into a cold container of leftover orange soup trying to remember how I made it.

Hubby and I had both purchased carrots (because they were cheap) on two consecutive days and hadn't noticed an overabundance of orangeness in the frig. It had turned cold (where did Summer go?) and making carrot soup seemed to be the order of the day. You can use up a lot of carrots in soup!

Ingredients (possibly)
1 Onion chopped
Garlic (lots)
Chili (of course!)
Carrots 500gm? scrubbed and roughly chopped (or more if necessary to make space in the frig for other things)
Pumpkin (whatever was in the frig - possibly 500gm) peeled and unenthusiastically chopped
Sweet potato (a chunk as big as your fist) Less enthusiasm for chopping now, very random chunks.
left over Red Capsicum (it adds a lovely colour) sample as you chop.
Tomatos (the cacky cheap tasteless ones can be used at a pinch - about 8, but less is fine) very half hearted chopping by this stage.

...and what else? Possibly some white wine, (one for me, one for the soup) maybe some cumin, definitely a smidge of salt and pepper, and a vegetable stock cube or frozen chicken stock. Just enough to cover the vegies or it's too watery. I imagine if I'd had a stem of broccoli I'd have added it too and any sad looking leftover vegietables that could have been slumping forlornly at the bottom of the crisper. And there would have been a few bay leaves, parsley, and oregano ceremoniously added and plucked out at the end of cooking. Oh, there was a very soft apple sitting on the bench, it got chopped up and plonked in too.

Method
Put a small glug of olive oil in a large saucepan, heat. Add the chopped onion, garlic and chili. Stir till sizzling. Toss in assorted chopped vegetables, let them sweat and sizzle then add the heated stock - just enough to cover.

Let it bubble away gently for a 1/2 hour or so. When you can squash a piece of carrot against the side of the saucepan, it's ready to be buzzed with a kitchen wand.

Add a dollop of yogurt and enjoy!

What would you have added (or not)?
.

Seals and rubber boats

Oh, ok so their proper name is an Inflatable Rubber Boat, or IRB. Really it doesn't matter! What's way more interesting is the fun you can have with them :D

One of the local rescue boats

Years ago, way BC (before kids) we succumbed to the allure of one of these magical, hysterically fun little craft, and had an absolute ball fanging around in it. On occasion we were pulled over by the Water Police, not so much for acting irresponsibly (good grief, of course not!), but because it seems to be expected that the owners of such craft are likely to flout regulations like carrying PFD's (personal floatation device - aka life jacket), flares and things like that which the police happen to consider are extremely important. Being little Goody Two Shoes, we always had the requisite bits and bobs, I suspect much to the chagrin of the coppers!

However, there was one occasion when we kind of bit off more than we could chew ... well, only one occasion for the purposes of this post ;)

Seal Rocks are to the right of the mound (The Nobbies) on the horizon

We decided to head off to Seal Rocks, in Westernport Bay. It was a long time ago, before it was a no-no to swim with the seals. We pulled up in a little rocky nook out of the swell and waves, all the better to get up close and personal with the fur seals. The smell was overpowering - putrid stench is a better term. It oozes off the rocks and out of the murky pooey water. They stink. The whole area stinks. You gag with the pong. I guess it's the rotting fish, lack of oral hygiene, and the burping and farting of the big boys and girls out there!

My cousin, lovely boy that he was, decided that it would be interesting to get out of the boat and see what a seal looked like from closer quarters. Hmmm. Is this a good idea? They're big. They have harems. They can get rather grumpy and chase off interlopers in an aggressive kind of way. Did I mention they're BIG? Really big!

"No worries" says Cuz, "She'll be right"- and off he goes scrambling awkwardly over the unfriendly black rocks.

He lasted for oh, I'd guess about 30 seconds...

It's fair to say I've never seen anyone move so fast and for all intents and purposes enact the classic cartoon manoeuvre of running through the air. The massive bull seal was outraged and determined to see off the interloper who was clearly after his harem! The noise!!! OMG He was furious and letting every being with kilometres know that he meant business!

Slender cousin extracted himself from the sharp, rocky and ultimately unwelcoming outcrop, faster than any of those highly trained lycra clad elite Olympic athletes strutting their stuff on slick surfaces!

Needless to say, my husband and I were doubled up with laughter, tears streaming down faces, yet well aware of the potential danger dear Cuz was facing. Frantically, hubby tried to start the strangely recalcitrant engine and manoeuvre the suddenly slothful boat ready for an inelegant landing and a James Bond style get-away.

Eyes round, and clearly extremely concerned, and making some very odd squawky noises, Cuz flailed and flew, scrabbling at the slick red rubber of the boat, with petite me dragging at any patch of wetsuit and clawing to drag him to safety. Satisfied, the bull seal harrumphed and snorted his way back to his precious harem as we skittered off to a safe distance to reflect on what could possibly have gone wrong.

Which is all a long way of saying we went for a stroll along the safe sands near Seal Rocks this morning and reminisced.

Now I wonder if Cuz has told his children of this particular adventure or will I share the link to this post on FB?

Seaweed. Safer than seals!

Seaweed and shadow.

.

I was on TV last week!

Oh, ok, only in the background of a group scene, skulking behind a handy pole, but it's a start...

It began with an apparently routine email which turned out to be rather exciting!

"Marty Moo will be cooking up a storm at Tidal River! I will be serving a gourmet barbeque breakfast of Garden Farm eggs, Terramirra Park venison sausage and Hope Farm sourdough. Please come on down and enjoy breaky with me, all welcome! But if you can’t come then tune in to the Today show and see me on the telly! Marty" 

I don't watch much TV, and have never watched a breakfast show, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. Tidal River is the main camping ground at The Prom (aka Wilsons Promontory National Park) it's always a treat to get down there, and the added attraction was a free breakfast compliments of Marty!

What's not to like? ... apart from packing of course. However, we flung the tent and assorted camping gear in the car and headed off - one night only due to work commitments, but hey who cares, this was going to be a real treat.

Sunset treat at Norman Bay

Up and about by 7am

The Today Show airs on Channel 9 and the weather reports were duly broadcast live from Norman Bay at the Tidal River Camp Ground on Wilsons Prom by Today presenter Stevie Jacobs.

Kids, food, sand, water and expensive equipment -
What could possibly go wrong?

What really happened was sunrise, kids, sand, water (great combination with cameras!) swatting March flies, National Parks Rangers and personnel, parents and teachers, all the technical bods who put these things together seamlessly and heaps of hangers on, otherwise temporarily referred to as the Marty fan club. Did I mention swatting March flies - surreptitiously when the filming happened - nasty bitey things and larger and more enthusiastic than ever this season.

Later, back at another picturesque setting and BBQ, 
Marty and Emily were cooking up a scrumptious breaky. 

The Gourmet BBQ segment with Marty Moo showcased some exceptional Prom Country produce, cheerfully devoured by all and sundry.

As far as the locals were concerned, the real star wasn't Stevie, the host of the Today Show, (centre front in the pic above) but local identity and restauranteur Marty (far right) - otherwise known as Marty Moo of Moos at Meniyan.

Thanks for the invite Marty, it was a beaut mid week break and my birthday lunch was great too!

.

A blessing or a millstone?

We realised we had more books in our home than most people, when the class assignment came home one afternoon. The instruction was to "Count the books in your house."

The assignment created quite a lot of stress in our household. Did the teacher of these grade 3 students really mean all the books?

Surely not!

Perhaps we'd misunderstood and what she really meant was all the books in one room, in one petite bookshelf. That would be reasonable! But all of them! Did she mean my son to include the ones teetering dangerously on the floor by the beds ready to succumb to gravity, those on the shelves in the toilet, as well as the ones secreted away in the wardrobes? Oh what a daunting task for a child (and parent).

We set to, if not with enthusiasm, at least with curiosity ... for a while ... at 500 we'd barely got through one modest bookcase of current titles. At 1000 we gave up. It was an overwhelming task. Sneezing took over the household as books, some long forgotten, but loved nonetheless, were un-wedged and opened, producing clouds of dust and unsettling the occasional silverfish which was promptly squashed.

Some are works of art in themselves, with leather covers and wafer thin pages. They are a window into the past when the writing was flowery and long winded. They echo a slower pace of life which relaxes into the rhythm of our old clock - tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

I feel myself slowing to a happier pace as I write this, and what had seemed like a burden of history, memories and inheritance shifts gradually from being a millstone, to a link with ancestors both known and unknown - and I'm grateful I kept some of these books that so often feel like they're weighing me down.

Some of the thousands that have gone to fetes and op-shops might have been a bad decision, but the quantity was overwhelming. But I often wonder what happened to the stacks of "Popular Science" and "Popular Mechanics" I'm sure I could have made space for them ;)

Oh, and the teacher's comment when my son confessed we hadn't counted all the books. "Perhaps it's time to get rid of some of them."

So, the question is, should they stay, or should they go?
.

Meatless Monday Recipe :)

- adapted from a recipe in Tamara Milstein's "Soup"


This is a really easy recipe and very filling :)

Our neighbour's vegie garden

Indian Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup


60 g ghee
2 Tablespoons ground coriander (sounds a lot but is fine)
500g carrots grated
500g tomatoes chopped
3 Tablespoons sugar (less is fine)
4 Tablespoons vinegar (I used white, but apple cider vinegar could be nice)
1 medium cabbage sliced finely (1/2 a largish one was ok)
4-6 cups vegetable stock


Heat ghee, add coriander, stir.
Add carrots and tomatoes, stir over heat till softened.
Add sugar, vinegar, a smidge of salt and pepper and some of the stock, then buzz till mushy. Keep on low heat.
Add the rest of the stock and the cabbage and enjoy a glass of wine (or beer) while you wait for it to get soft - about 30 minutes or so - when you're on the second glass of wine (or beer) remember to check to make sure it's bubbling along merrily.


Serve with a dollop of yogurt and a grate of nutmeg. I added some precooked brown rice which was scrumptious - I might try a few lentils next time.

Bug free, healthy, prolific - why doesn't my garden look like this?

And why, I hear you ask, did you cook a cabbage soup in the middle of summer? 


It had turned chilly, and our lovely neighbours had appeared at our back door laden with gifts: tomatoes, cabbage and assorted greens. There's only so much coleslaw one can eat in a week before you start looking for something a bit different! Soup was ideal.
.

Summertime escapism

How many times have you heard "The best camera is the one you have with you", and how often have you wished you'd taken that advice? 

If my husband had packed the camera one fine day a couple of weeks ago,  and if he'd been quick off the mark and possibly elbowed aside a couple of hundred hefty fisherpersons, onlookers and tourists, we'd have a video to rival the one below. 

Unfortunately, the camera was nestled safely at home. On the kitchen table. Snug in it's little case. Gathering dust. Ignored and lonesome.

This is our local pier. Normally it's packed with fishermen and women experiencing varying degrees of success in the fish catching stakes.

 The pier was rotting, so the authorities decided it would be a good idea to partially reconstruct it.

The pier doesn't usually attract noisy crowds, but this fine sunny Sunday, people were lined up leaning all along the railing, hooting with laughter and cheering. Fishing rods, bait and buckets lay where they had been flung aside - their owners enthusiastically elbowing each other aside to watch the show.

A fisherman had caught a garfish and had been reeling it in with glee. A passing duck saw an opportunity to freeload and wasn't going to let the tasty flapping fish pass. He wanted that fish!

The fish was well hooked.

The fisherman wanted the fish. The duck wanted the fish. The fish wanted to get away.

The fish was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place. There was a tussle of gigantic proportions. Some of the rapidly swelling crowd took the side of the duck, some took the side of the fisherman. A few kindhearted souls took the side of the fish.

Seconds turned into minutes. The fisherman reeled. The duck tugged. The fish flapped. The tug of war seemed to be stretching the already slender fish.

Being Australia, no doubt someone was taking bets.

When the duck   f i n a l l y   won, there was more laughter and cheering, general slapping of backs and smiles all round.

And the serious business of fishing resumed!

Watch till the end. There's one crazy guy in a kayak - with shark!

Everyone has a fishing story! What's yours?

.

Summertime :D

Having spent the day discussing the passing of the NDAA bill in the US and the possible implications for democracies around the world I need to get grounded with good dose of nature!

See the white blob in the centre foreground - that's a fish head. The head is about 30cm long, the whole carcass possibly a little under a metre. The fishermen fillet their catch then dump what they don't want.  The fish head is relevant to the next photo! 

This stingray has been a regular visitor this summer. It was feeding on the fish carcasses ...

 I watched it elegantly and lazily glide over, stop and kind of hunch over the fish carcasses and feed from them. See the bits on top that look like eyes? They're not! They're more like a valve and gloops of air bubble out infrequently. Its eyes are quite small and just forward of the air bubble vent things. Its mouth is more or less underneath its eyes, so presumably it locates food by feel (and smell?) 

The fins (wings?) daintily - effortlessly - ripple, but in exquisite slow motion, to change direction and speed. From wingtip to wingtip he'd be a metre, and the same in length, and then another metre for his tail. He is entrancing! 

 I will do some research on stingrays, as I realise I know practically nothing about them - but not tonight, it's been a long day and I need to get away from the computer - I just wanted to go to bed with these images in my head :)

What parts of nature bring you joy?
.

Shiny New Year!

Random thoughts about Hot Rods.

Wandering down Main Street on New Year's Day, looking to see which cafes were open for breakfast, feeling, then hearing the distinctive sound of V8's or possibly V12's, finely tuned: k'thump, k'thump, k'thump.

Not much ground clearance.

The rumbling demands attention. Sucking down fuel that smells like avgas, creating a deep, low grumble, a rhythmic backdrop of sound - not too intrusive over the hiss and whine  of cappuccino machines.

Like people entranced by the lilting tune played by the Pied Piper, men, women, children turn and gawk - are compelled to follow the glittering Hot Rods down to the once peaceful park overlooking the sparkling bay.

Only mildly distracted, (breakfast is far too important to be rushed!) we eventually wander down to join the happy throng.

Bear-sized blokes delve under bonnets and dashboards, lean over to admire perfect leatherwork. In ones and twos or groups, deep voices share their love of their machines.  Women too, polishing cloths at the ready to further shine the mirrored chrome, carry chairs and picnic baskets, rub sunscreen into each others backs - keeping safe those hard to reach spots.

I'm delighted with the Mini, it reminds me of my first one. I splurged on having it painted purple and used to pack it with camping gear and head off for weekends at a national park. Looking at one now, I can't imagine how I fitted in my camping gear comfortably.  Later, I had an Austin A30 and I really regret selling it - tarted up, it would look a treat.

I have fond memories of the cars my uncles owned; some with running boards. I remember one had to be crank started, I can't imagine this one would be so antiquated! Does anyone remember chokes? How you used it regulate the mix of fuel, then left the car running to warm up.   I wish that one of us had had the forethought to keep one of those old cars. These are beautiful, absolute labours of love and bring back great memories!

Where do they get fuel for Hot Rods? They're unlikely to use unleaded, and what will they do when petrol becomes scarce, will they safeguard some fuel for an annual outing to get together and share stories of days of glory and chrome?

                           

I love the way the bonnet folds back on itself, it oozes charm and elicits thoughts of chiffon and champagne and hedonistic days gone by. Some of the cars had dickey seats beautifully re-leathered, now there's another job for a craftsman.

We played the game "If you could afford any of these cars, and insurance and fuel were no problem, which would you have?" This is the one I chose - chrome, gold and those wonderful old tyres. Gorgeous!

Which one would you choose?

.