Vegetable soup simmers away in the pot and smells delicious and fills the kitchen with warmth and heartyness on a chilly autumn afternoon where the sky is dark and threatens rain. And the soup is ready and it’s pulverised to make it soupy but the vegetables within include two purple carrots and they make the whole soup turn dark purple and look entirely  un-appetising. It looks like schlop. You think of Oliver and his bowlful of gruel. And you take a deep breath and try a little sip of that sickly looking soup, and you are pleasantly delighted to find it is delicious! And you mix in a spoonful of goat’s cheese and it melts into the purple and the whole thing becomes a lighter purple and it looks slightly more appetising. But who cares what it looks like. You are feeding yourself and are accountable to no one. It is fairytale soup. It may look a little ugly. But it’s contents are full of goodness. And by eating it you just may turn into a swan who loves to play in the rain that is surely about to come. The end. 

Once upon a time (two weeks ago) two good friends Lulu and Lenny decided to make pasta from scratch. They bought some biodynamic wholegrain flour, and then went to market to fetch organic eggs, tomatoes, basil, carrots, spring onions, and garlic. They arrived home at lunch time a little hungry, but determined to stick to their goal of pasta making.   

The first step was to get the pasta sauce going. As every good meal starts with garlic and onion sauteed in olive oil, they chopped the garlic and spring onions and threw them in the pot with some olive oil. The kitchen was quickly filled with a delicious aroma. While the onions and garlic were enjoying their olive bath, Lulu and Lenny carefully peeled and chopped a mountain of tomatoes. Soon they added red wine to the pot, which made Lulu salivate a little bit because the smell was so good. Then the tomatoes were added, followed by the basil and carrots, and the whole mixture was left to its own devices to simmer and permeate its aromas into the air.
 
Lulu and Lenny then set to the task of the pasta. Eggs and a pinch of salt were rolled into the flour, and much kneading then followed. Despite Stephanie Alexander’s advice to leave the dough in the fridge for an hour, the pair were so hungry they knew they simply could not wait! So carefully and methodically they rolled long rolls of dough through the pasta machine, making it thinner and thinner and thinner. When the dough was very thin, they wound it through the cutting bit. Long strips of pasta emerged making Lulu very excited. They laid  the strips out to dry on the clothes rack, and every now and then gave the sauce a stir. 
  
Finally the pasta was dry, and a pot of boiling water was prepared. Lenny expertly separated the pasta and hurled it into the pot. The strips danced in the water, swirling with the bubbles, cooking to perfection. Very soon the pasta was ready! Lulu grated some parmesan while Lenny served two dishes of steaming pasta with fresh tomato and basil sauce on top. When they finally sat down to eat, it had been over three hours since the baking had commenced, and Lulu and Lenny were hungry! After the first fresh and flavour-filled mouthful, the pair agreed it was definitely worth the wait! And they promptly scoffed down the lot (followed by a rather delicious apple and berry crumble... also freshly made) - of course making sure they had enough to take for lunch during the week. 
 
The end (until the next pasta making day!). 

Imagine you're running late. And you're a bit stressed. And you're forgetting to breathe. And you see the bus, but you miss it, and you silently scream because of course you missed the bus, you're running late!! ARG! The next bus arrives. You step inside and find yourself in a tinsel forest. The entire bus, every pole and seat is lined with tinsel. There is a Santa statue in front of the ticket machine. The luggage bays are filled with stuffed toys. There is even a Christmas tree. And you find your stress melts away a little bit, because you can't help but smile. And at every stop, more people get on, and they smile too. And it makes you feel nice, and you marvel at the fact that the bus can be a place of such wonder.

 And then imagine the girl sitting next to you has a basket full of handmade soft toys. And she looks like a lovely person so you talk to her. And she turns out to be as lovely as she seems. She makes soft toys and is training to be a Kindergarten teacher, and today she is bringing in her craft to share with her class. And you have a conversation all the way to town.

And when you hop off the bus, you feel better. It was worth being late. You got to ride inside a tinsel forest with a friendly fellow human being. If this is the Christmas season, bring it on. 

For the past week I have been dutifully turning 4 lumps of curdled milk in an esky (cooler), watching (semi)patiently for signs of mould, and squealing delightedly when I discover a fine furry white layer surrounding two of the lumps. I have not gone mad. I am conducting the most  fabulous art/science experiment to come out of north-western France. Cheese-making. Camembert to be precise. These four round discs are the result of a wonderful day standing over a hot stove, stirring 10L of goat’s milk, adding cultures and non-animal rennet, waiting, stirring, waiting some more, more stirring, more waiting, more stirring, a little chopping, some careful pouring, and voila! By Christmas, I will have home-made camembert to devour! And because I did the course with my bestie Len, and my step-mum Meg, I will have not one, but three different camemberts to sample. WIN! 

The course was a fabulous day of cheese-making and learning with Karen Borg, at the North Sydney Community Centre. Karen is the owner and creator of Willowbrae Chevre Cheese, a wonderful goat’s cheese enterprise in Wilberforce (north of Sydney). I have been visiting Karen’s stall at the markets for nearly a year now, and I am utterly addicted to her goat’s curd, and marinated fettas. Oh sweet heaven help me, if there is nothing more delicious
than a bit of plain curd on a fresh piece of bread! 

On the day of our cheese-making, we learnt the art of camembert and ricotta (you can also sign up for a day of blue cheese or fetta... they are absolutely on the to do list...) Ricotta is ridiculously easy, and utterly delicious when smothered in olive oil and thyme and baked in the oven until golden. While our camembert’s sat transforming from goat’s milk to curds and whey (yes, this is where Little Miss Muffet came from... she was eating curdled milk, and depending on what temperature the milk had been heated to, the beginnings of camembert or ricotta!), we sat on our tuffets feasting on pasta with a light cheesy sauce, rocket salad with pear, marinated fetta balls, and roasted walnuts, sweet potato and broccoli quiche, mini savoury tartlets, and an enormous cheese platter with blue cheese and camembert, and curd and all kinds of wonderful. 

It was divine to be sitting in the beautiful surrounds of the North Sydney Community Centre on a bright blue sky Sydney day, learning the craft of something that most people may not even think about, let alone try. Cheese just comes from the supermarket right?! To attempt the science that is cheese-making, to chat with like-minded people about the origins of our  food, to enjoy beautiful food and appreciate where every last morsel of it comes from. It may be slow and full of effort, but that’s why I love it. It’s like watching mould grow. A daily practise that with each day brings new surprises and joys. I can’t wait for Christmas!  

Last year I started listening to a FABULOUS podcast called MusicalTalk. Every week a group of Brits get together and talk about musicals. Their focus is mainly on London and the UK theatre scene, with occasional dips across the pond to talk about what’s happening on  Broadway. They talk with actors, directors, writers, stage managers, audience members, all the plethora of folks involved in making musicals, and have a whole list of very well known industry folk on their interview credits including Stephen Schwartz, Alan Menken, Anthony Rapp, Johnny Depp, and Stephanie J Block to name but just a few.

So a couple of weeks ago, I was listening to MusicalTalk and I thought, I like talking about musicals! Why don’t I do my own podcast? And talk about Australian musicals? And in a rush of excitement I told the girls at dance about it. And they got very excited. And then, last Thursday after Chris had whipped us into shape in Broadway Jazz, Flick and I sat down and attempted our very own podcast. The results are here for your listening pleasure. In this inaugural episode we talk about our first experiences of musical theatre. It was ridiculously fun to sit and talk musicals. It was ridiculously fun to sit and edit the thing (thank you Apple and your wonderful GarageBand invention!). In short I had a total blast. Do what you love. And you will be happy. The end. 

PS. We need a name for the podcast. Suggestions welcome!

I used to be incredibly frustrated by what I didn’t know. I remember being in kindergarten and being annoyed at the way grown-ups kept using words I did not know the meaning of. As a six year-old trying to fit into and navigate the world around me, I was convinced that somewhere in the city were old men in suits whose job it was to invent new words and disseminate them amongst the adult population on a daily basis in order that there would always be words I would never know. 

As a grown-up, there are still many things I do not know. A big topic at the moment is global warming and climate change. As an average person with no scientific training and a slight aversion to numbers, I don’t “get” the science behind the debate. But as an average person, I can comprehend this. The stuff we use to fuel our society, namely fossil fuels, is finite. Humans live in a way that is detrimental to our health and the planet’s.

Last week I attended a talk at Town Hall on a new report called Beyond Zero Emissions: Zero Carbon Australia Stationary Energy Plan. Thirty scientists, engineers, and academics got together and asked how can Australia move toward a more sustainable renewable energy existence. And they came up with a 200-page document thats shows how Australia can move to 100% renewable energy by 2020. And you know what got me excited? The men in suits say its possible. It’s not just bearded patchouli hippies. It’s Malcolm Turnbull and Bob Carr and former Australian Chief Scientist Robin Batterham and British engineer Allan  Jones. 

We have to believe that change is entirely possible. It’s happening in Spain and Germany and the United States. Commercial scale renewable  energy. It was something I didn’t really understand when I was walking the Camino across northern Spain a couple of years ago. I saw wind turbines and solar panels on a scale I had never encountered and I started asking myself questions about energy and how it all works. 

I still do not entirely understand the world. But tell my six year-old self that she would one day go to university and spend four years learning words she never knew and even after majoring in English there would still be an untold world of words beyond her cognition, and that’s not frustrating but entirely exciting. And tell the girl who read Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and walked across Spain and saw wind turbines and solar panels that in just over 6 months she would be working for a sustainability shop and going to the Farmer’s Markets every week and eating beautiful organic food and learning that there is so much possibility. 

The world may be on the brink of collapse, but I choose not to be frustrated by what the men in suits beyond my understanding make up and implement across the globe. I choose to believe it is possible for men, and women, to put their brains together and come up with ways to make the world a better place to live in. As Annie Leonard says in the wonderfully
eloquent Story of Stuff, with all the clever people on the planet, surely we can come up with a way to live that is not detrimental to our health and very existence. 

I live in a world where anything is possible. I can choose to understand. I can choose to make a difference. As Allan Jones said at the talk on Thursday night, “the barriers to 100% renewable energy are not technological or economic, but regulatory mindset and vested inteterest.” I may have felt powerless and small against the men in suits as six year-old. And I could continue to feel small and powerless against the people in suits today. But I chose to be inspired. I choose to be excited. I choose to believe the world I live in and the way in which I live on it can be beautiful, rich, creative, and sustainable.