Nonno's feast (the looooong lunch)

Dad (Nonno) and jetlagmama

My father turned seventy last week (Happy Birthday Dad) and to celebrate he (my Mum) organised a lunch at a favourite place of his called Bells at Kilcare. S and Jack and I arrived the day before so we could prepare ourselves for the mammoth feast that awaited us. Others stayed at Bells while some (but unfortunately not all) caught the ferry over from Palm beach. As people arrived we gathered in the bar

Richard and Chris start with an aperitif

Cheryl and Peter

and Ganma took Jack and Scarlett to her cottage to show them the exciting games she had bought for them to play with. The adults too found them hard to resist.

Aunty Judith, Jack and Scarlett try the fishing game

Then Shelley, the babysitter arrived and we wished her luck and returned to the restaurant. We took our places at the loooooooooong table on the verandah and scanned our menus.

the long lunch (view 1)

the long lunch (view 2 with photographer seated)

It seemed like a long menu. As the food started to appear (Parmesan and caper biscottini, Liguarian and Sicilian olives, bread and olive oil) Dad made a speech thanking everyone for coming and giving a bit of background on all of the guests and how they came to be there (not Craig and I - I think we know how we got there).

speech!

No one took up the offer of right of reply (at that stage) and we all readied ourselves for the antipasto.

sue

I tried to take photos of all the food but some were pounced upon so quickly that not all photos show the dish as it looked when it left the kitchen. I was supposed to be taking photos of the guests but as you'll notice most photos are taken from my seat. I didn't want to move in case I missed anything.

Parmesan & rocket frittata with sweet & sour roasted peppers
with batons of polenta wrapped in prosciutto

We started with Parmesan and rocket frittata with sweet and sour roasted peppers and batons of polenta wrapped in prosciutto and little dishes of the most delicious and crisp pickled vegetables I have ever tasted. Next we had grilled prawns with salsa salmoriglio served on radicchio (sorry no photo as they were consumed too quickly) and freshly shucked oysters (they definitely were fresh and they were wonderful - living in the country I can't remember the last time I ate oysters - for some reason the Seafood night at Junee Reefs Hall makes me nervous, though apparently it is one of the great social highlights of the year).

freshly shucked oysters

One of the most popular antipasti was the braised oxtail 'agrodolce' which was tender and aromatic and lived up to its name which translates as sweet and sour. It was certainly a far cry from the flouro pink sweet and sour of many a cheap chinese smorgasbord. Again no photo as this time I was too busy eating. Antipasto concluded with these lovely little spinach and ricotta gnocchi.

spinach and ricotta gnocchi

After a visit from Jack, Scarlett and a mildly frazzled Shelley it was time for mains. Jack and Scarlett made themselves at home in the bar with dessert.

jack, scarlett and lou 'relaxing' in the bar

Scarlett took against the panna cotta and after sticking all ten fingers in the top she then flicked it around the walls with gusto. Jack, who is not the kind to wantonly waste anything sweet got stuck into the cassata. And so onto the mains.

porcini risotto

We started with a porcini risotto and I have to say as I rule I rarely order this in restaurants (unless it's a very good restaurant) and I'm not a big mushroom fan, but this was luscious and creamy and wonderful. I think I had about five servings with Richard across the table also partaking enthusiastically. The risotto was followed by the slow roasted pork belly with sage and roast garlic (it's pork belly do I need to say more?)

slow roasted pork belly with sage and roast garlic

and then morsels of grilled Blue eye with salsa piccante.

grilled blue eye with salsa piccante

We finished the mains with roast Flinders Island suckling lamb with roast rosemary potatoes and salsa dragoncello. There was a brief discussion about what dragoncello was. I knew the information was rattling around in my brain but it refused to present itself. We didn't ask the waitress because we'd already asked about agrodolce and salmoriglio. It wasn't till later when I was supervising the bubble machine (and Jack and Scarlett) that I got to ask one of the chefs as he nonchalantly walked past with a shovel and a handful of freshly dug horseradish. Dragoncello is tarragon. He stressed the importance of using french tarragon and I have to say the flavour of the lamb was fabulous. My only regret was that the pieces were quite small. I guess this is to be expected when you get suckling lamb instead of some of the jurassic lamb (ie mutton) that you get some places. Was it true that a group at one end of the table feigned missing out on the lamb and thus secured themselves another serve? The potatoes were crispy and hard to resist as I noted as some of the guests snaffled an extra one or two while their partners weren't looking.

roast flinders island suckling lamb with roast
rosemary potatoes and salsa dragoncello

It was at this time that a helicopter appeared on the horizon and kept getting closer and closer. Several jokes were made about the identity of the occupants, including the speculation that it was Clive James, an old school friend of Dad's, arriving fashionably late. Actually he's probably more likely to arrive in a hot air balloon powered by himself. Our questions were answered when a young couple having finished their meal, dashed from the restaurant in the direction of the helipad.

By this stage it was still quite hot and we were blissfully unaware of what was going on in the kitchen with staff experiencing two blackouts as they prepared the meals. We still received our desserts, which we had chosen at the beginning of the meal, with only a slight melting of the cassata indicating that anything had gone awry.

my slightly melted cassata - still delicious

The choices were tartufo di amedei chocolate or raspberry, pistachio and vanilla cassata or lavender panna cotta with cherries and moscato jelly. Funnily enough S and I ordered exactly the same thing we'd had when we had dinner at Bells the year before. Funny but not surprising that S would choose chocolate and I would choose pistachios. Dad also chose the cassata and his came with a candle (just the one not seventy luckily). Jack and Scarlett were unavailable to help with the candle, but made up for it later.

Nonno's birthday cassata

Scarlett samples the panna cotta

the tartufo

During desserts there was a sudden flurry as a spontaneous series of speeches was made. No sooner had one person sat down after talking, then another person would leap to their feet to sing Dad (and Mum's) praises. By that stage a middling amount of wine had been consumed so I'm a touch hazy on the specifics but the jist was to thank my dad for his support, generosity and friendship or in the case of my Aunties Judith and Nette for being a great brother. Craig also spoke about Dad being not only a loving father but a role model too. Unfortunately as I was seated most of the photos were not great (chin close ups) so I'm only posting this photo of Aunty Judith.

Time was marching on and some people had to leave to catch their ferry back. Jack and Scarlett appeared as did some very pink birthday cupcakes that Craig and Lou had had the foresight to bring, with candles.

cupcakes!

These were lit and Jack and Scarlett helped blow out the candles, while Richard eyed off the cupcakes.

blowing out the candles

After some extensive repairs to Jack's tractor (thank you Jenny and Chris)

we adjourned to the bar so Nonno could open his presents and the restaurant staff could prepare the tables for dinner (the lunch went that long). Jack helped Nonno open his presents

don't read the card nonno - just open the present

and then he and Scarlett abandoned what was left of the cupcakes and went outside to play with the bubble machine. There is something about kids and bubbles and except for a mild case of bubble eye, they had lots of fun. I could see some of the chefs preparing for dinner that night watching rather enviously and eyeing off the machine.

bubbles!

And so, with our numbers depleted and our bellies satisfied we decided to return to Terrigal where Jack was keen to go for a swim. Mum, Dad and Cheryl were contemplating a piece of fruit for dinner, while Richard was thinking about popping back to the restaurant for a spot of dinner.

More from the Big Banana

When I was going back through our pics I found these photos from the big b. I'd forgotten that Jack took along his 'binoculars'. Yes, it is a cardboard tube cut in half and taped together but he loves them. Apparently he spotted a tiger in the gardens there.

And this is me chomping on my frozen choc coated banana (with sprinkles).

Delicious, though Jack was unsure.

Outlaw Christmas

Our families take Christmas in turns and last year my parents were the outlaws so we organised to do an early Christmas on our way up north. I finished work on the Saturday night, came home, finished packing and then we left quite early the next morning (this is practically unheard of here). We arrived early afternoon and prepared for the feasting because where my family is involved there is always feasting (and of a high standard too).

Mum and Dad had ordered a whole salmon,

visited DJ's for salads and Mum had made Garn's special dessert which is a tapioca pudding with whisked egg whites on top. Garn always made this in a special cut glass bowl for people's birthdays and Christmas and Craig and I always tried to outdo each other with the number of helpings we had - the results were not always pretty. Lou and Chelsea arrived but Craig and Scarlett had to go back home to pick up a very special Haberfield Ricotta Torta that I had requested and they'd left at home (and thankfully not on the roof of the car).

When they returned and Jack and S were awake we exchanged presents (towels! tagine! cookbooks!) and there was much excitement and ripping of paper. Craig and Lou got Jack a fireman's outfit which was a huge hit, as were the Thomas engines and Crane that my parents bought. Scarlett didn't seem too fussed about the book I bought her (Yummy by Lucy Cousins - lots of garishly illustrated gruesome fairy tales but it's become a big hit.)
And then we sat down for lunch and ate and ate and ate. Well we did.

Jack and Scarlett decided to have a swim in the paddling pool before the main meal of the day - dessert.


And then Nonno performed a little magic trick, making these coloured lanterns appear. Actually the real trick was getting Jack to stop switching them off.

in a flap

After my rather interesting choices (the clog barn and the big banana) I was surprised that S trusted me to choose any other sights to see, but the butterfly house had come highly recommended by my friend Fairy (whose kids absolutely loved it). After missing the turn off and travelling up and down the Pacific Highway a couple of times I was hoping it would deliver. I envisaged room after room of beautiful winged creatures. Once we recovered from the price ($14 each and I could see S thinking this better be good) we entered the room, prepared to be amazed. the butterflies were beautiful but didn't have quite the calming effect on Jack that I wished for.

I believe he suggested leaving immediately. We walked around and around, but he was not completely excited.I noticed a sign asking people to be careful where they stepped as butterflies oftenlanded on the path and took care but obviously not everyone did. Right in front of the girl doing talks on butterflies there was a butterfly shaped splat with some crumpled wings. I kept on expecting her to say something or to at least remove the little corpse but she never did.

She was too busy trying to get Jack to pat a caterpillar (no way that was going to happen - he thought it was too spiky) and then I quite evilly mentioned Eric Carle. You see I know that the people at the Butterfly House get quite incensed about his book the Very Hungry Caterpillar (though they still manage to sell it in their shop). This is because it says that a butterfly has a cocoon not a pupa. And she did get quite cranky too, telling me how incorrect it was. Relax people it's a picture book (albeit a much loved and wonderful children's classic) not a textbook. I'm pretty sure caterpillars don't eat five oranges or ice cream or salami either.
After our fifth circuit in as many minutes we set off to explore the rest of the 'complex'. Jack wanted to touch things in the gift shop and then we found some puzzles that kept S and I amused for a while

and a great photo op and that was it. We decided that I should stop suggesting sightseeing spots and go make some sandcastles instead.

North

Before Christmas we packed our bags and went north for a holiday. On the way we stopped at Sydney for early Christmas with my family, then onto Urunga. Urunga is a small town by the river near Coffs Harbour. S and I stopped there years ago and were quite taken with the place. Was it the quiet sleepy town, the view of the river or the hippy cafe where we had a very good hot chocolate with a warm cinnamon biscuit? It is probably the memory of that cafe that made me think of Urunga so fondly. When S suggested stopping there for a day or two on the way to Queensland I thought why not. We stayed in a cabin (our 'little house according to Jack) and went swimming and for walks on the beach and tried in vain to find a decent fish and chip shop (no dice).
We did find the cafe but it's under newish management and while my smoothie was okay, I missed the complimentary biscuit. Sometimes you just have to let those food memories go or at least don't revisit them. After a couple of days of unwinding and some rather unusual sightseeing we were ready to head to Queensland and travel back in time (one hour that is).

Surprice!

"Hi Honey - I couldn't get the gizzards so I just got the giblets, okay?"
This is what S said to me as I walked in the door after a hard day* at the library. S was cooking my birthday dinner, even though it is my birthday tomorrow. I must say I was momentarily phased by the thought of those giblets. Then he asked me to take a look and guess what he was cooking. Sounds dangerous. I tried to bluff but I was flummoxed till he proudly exclaimed,"Dirty Rice".
Ahh. Between us we manage to get through quite a bit of 'southern' fiction and I don't mean books written in Gippsland or Tassie. James Lee Burke, Carl Hiassen, Tim Gatreaux, Elmore Leonard - you get the idea and there's always mention of jambalaya, po boys, gumbo and of course dirty rice. Every time I read about all that delicious creole and cajun food I want to head to N'Orleans and go crazy. And so that is what my lovely S made me for my birthday dinner. It's not the prettiest dish but it was very tasty. It's got me thinking about corn bread.
Apparently there are lots of ways to make your dirty rice. S did lots of research, found a recipe he liked and then tweaked it a little. As long as you have the holy trinity (celery, peppers (aka capsicum) and onion) you'll be right.
Dirty Rice for a birthday wife
Ingredients
55g chicken gizzards, rinsed (or if you're feeling squeamish use pork mince)
115g chicken livers, rinsed and trimmed
8ml vegetable oil
1.5 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 onion, finely chopped
185g uncooked white rice
1.5 sticks of celery (finely chopped)
1/2 red capsicum (yep that's a pepper folks)
475ml chicken stock
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
chives or spring onions
Pulse gizzards in a food processor. Take a deep breath then pulse the livers (I hope you removed the yucky bits).
Heat the oil in a large saucepan. Gently cook your holy trinity veg and then add the gizzards, livers and garlic and cook over medium heat until browned.
Add rice and stir until coated with oil. Add stock, salt and peppers> bring to boil then simmer for about 20 - 30 minutes until the rice has absorbed the liquid. Sprinkle with chives or spring onions and serve. Consume while you listen to Zydeco and tap your toes and try not to think about gizzards.


* I put some books on shelves, talked to people about books, ate cake and got taken out for lunch - exhausting!

The Big Potato

After my success touring the Big Banana, wearing some big clogs and driving very quickly past the big windmill and the Big Prawn I thought my happiness was complete. That is until I realised that we would be driving through Robertson last Thursday - home of the Big Potato (aka the Big Poo though I can't understand why). I made S promise that he would stop and take a photo of the spud and me. He disputed the existence of the Big P (as he'd driven through Robertson the year before) but I told him that he probably just drove past it because he was unaware of its existence. Anyway there it was so we screeched to a halt, I ran over to the sign, posed and we roared off again. Once you've got the pic there's no need to dilly dally. No potato themed souvenirs or snacks( chocolate covered frozen potato anyone?).
As far as the standard of Big Things go it's right up there don't you think?