Sometimes its whats on the outside that counts

Fear not dear reader for I have returned, I shall not furnish you with details as to my unexplained absences because frankly finding excuses to cover up the fact that I’ve been lazy will become tedious for us both. I suggest you just ignore them and we both hope for the best.

The joy of cooking

It had been a rough week for the cook, fraught with emotional minefields, punctuated by giddy moments where I just didn’t give a fuck. Often at times like those I channel my energy into making something. Not unlike my fore mothers in the days before Oprah and Cerapax, I like to think.

T'was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stiring not even a mousse

Christmas dinner this year went pretty well I thought, as did my dining companion Rusty it would seem. I called the nice butchers over at Belmore Biodynamic meats and ordered a roast shoulder of pork, deboned and with the rind still attached so we’d have lots of crackling. I was looking forward to it for weeks, tender pork, crunchy crackling, a nice Madeira sauce to go with it and plenty of roast vegi’s, we even had Yorkshire puddings it was a feast. Though after putting all this thought into what we were going to have for dinner I had no idea what to do for dessert.

They call me Limoncello

So I haven’t posted for a while huh, I’m sure nobody was left, rocking backwards and forwards while sucking their thumbs waiting for me but the absence should at least be acknowledged. So fear not gentle readers I’ve returned, it was Christmas that stole me from you, Christmas and all the million other things that suddenly needed my attention, rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated.

The importance of turning up late

You can never rely on people, particularly when you’re cooking.
I have a mate of mine that I cook for all the time, I call him Rusty.
Every weekend barring death or dismemberment he dutifully comes over and I cook him something.

The Tale of the Mystery Sausage.

I’ve had a liking for a number of years for Chinese Plum Sausages. I don’t know why but mercifully for some reason I’ve always been able to stumble across at least one butcher that’s easily gotten to that will make Chinese Plum Sausages.

The art of the joy

I have this vague fascination with domestic cookery. Actually that’s a lie I have a near pathological obsession with domestic cookery.

My Daddy grows the Limes

There are certain things I come across food wise that I tend to get some might say irrationally excited about. The bacon for one, though I do guarantee it is good bacon, another is the limes that my Dad grows in his backyard in Bendigo.

The things a girl will do for bacon

Some girls search for that perfect man, some the perfect shoes. Me I searched long and hard for the perfect bacon. This maybe why I’m single and incidentally why I also have very few pairs of shoes.

The Prodigal Roast

I don’t think there was ever went a weekend without a roast being cooked at home. Whenever you go to my Dad’s house if you haven’t visited in a while he’ll make you a roast beef. Its like the prodigal roast, home is the hunter, home for a roast.

Everything tastes good when you’re a kid