Homer Simpson once said, "You don't win friends with salad." Well, actually you do. Because this week, salads, and variations thereof, have become some of my best friends. Rainbow chard and basil, grated carrot, beetroot, and ginger, roughly chopped tomatoes, goat's curd with olive rind, fresh corn on the cob, cold roasted potatoes, all drizzled with balsamic and olive oil, a sprinkle of black pepper and a pinch of salt.  Oh my. The flavour explosions of joy.  Filling refreshing, and so damn tasty. It's hard to believe I was once rather adverse to the idea of being a vegetarian. But fresh salads made from locally grown organic ingredients, and purchased from the markets where I have a community of friends who like me love the idea of fresh greens, I believe dear Homer, that I have won.

magine if you will, a purple bean. It is so purple it is the very definition of purple. It is what purple should be. The bean is long and skinny. And you have a handful of these purple beans. And you chop off the end bits and peel off the stringy bits and you throw them in the fry pan along with some chopped zucchini and capsicums and kernels of yellow corn and Spanish onion and garlic. And it all smells amazing. And as the stir fry simmers and sizzles, a miraculous transformation begins to take place. The purple beans, so purple in their purple  beanery begin to change colour. It is like kitchen magic. See here my purple beans! See how radiant they are in their purpleness! Look closely, watch carefully... a flame, a sizzle, a wave of the magic wooden spoon and VOILA! Green beans! And before you know it, there are no more purple beans in your stir fry. Just green. And the tiniest traces of purple to remind you of what was once before. 

And soon the stir fry is ready. And you turn off the heat. And you munch into your greens. And they are delicious. And another day you can add purple beans to a salad. You can sauté them in olive oil and a bit of garlic. You can drizzle lemon or garlic butter over the top. They are even delicious raw. And as you consume and remember to be thankful to the people  who took the time to plant the beans and watch them grow and harvest them from their vines and bring them to the markets, you know you have shared in the magic that is the bean. Lovely.

One day one can find oneself sitting at Shelly Beach looking at the headland covered in lush greenery and at the ocean and at people picnicking and playing and swimming and in the past fifteen minutes you have encountered three water dragons, a possum, and a rabbit sitting beneath a tree. And although a storm is brewing, it is still warm, and people are not in any rush to leave. A man is strumming a guitar. There is laughter. Upstairs in the cafe there is a party going on and you can hear the music and the hubbub of people chatting and mingling. 
 
And then you can find yourself sitting inside a lovely restaurant eating beautiful food with five beautiful people from all over the world. And the conversation tingles your toes and resonates with everything you have been thinking and feeling and reading for the past little  while and it all feels delightfully synchronistic. And outside the storm has taken gentle reign of the beach. It's raining, but not very hard. The lightning camera flashes the sand and the ocean and the trees. And it is lovely. And it is beautiful. And you go home tired but happy and feeling like something within you has shifted. And you are incredibly grateful that you were there, you were a part of the conversation, and you shared the energy and it was light and  beautiful and song.  

The end.

My goodness what a weekend! There have been so many moments of inspiring, beautiful, and lovely in the past three days that I barely know where to begin. I performed in my first dance concert since I was 14, I visited the North Sydney Markets and Eveleigh Farmer’s Markets and wished all my wonderful vendors a Merry Christmas, thanking them all profusely for the past year of amazing locally and organically grown delights, I cooked up a storm with my housie/bestie Len, I met a ton of performers, musicians, and techies, I  partied, I watched the 8th Annual Cabaret Showcase, and I marveled at the way the weather can change from bright hot sunshine to cold and rain and even snow in Australia in December (?!?!?!?!?), all in the space of 48 hours. Crazy!! 

And now to the yum factor. Following the cancellation of other exciting Saturday night adventures Len and I decided to put a rare weekend night at home by baking up a storm. Len put his recently acquired Italian culinary skills to the test and whipped up the most incredible  roast pumpkin ravioli in a thyme butter sauce. Dear future girlfriends of Len, this man is a seriously amazing cook. No seriously. Freaking amazing. The promise of the addition of roast garlic to reprises of this dish is something I’m very much looking forward to. Dear Len. Please stop reading the blog and get baking. Many thanks... :) I had some left over plums and cherries which weren’t going to last much longer, so making a variation on a Cyndi O’Meara recipe for a lemon tart, I whipped together a cherry pie. It was ridiculously easy, and oh so very, very tasty. And I realised afterwards, with considerable joy, that I knew where every single ingredient came from, and just about all the farmers who had worked to bring me  these goodies. The eggs and plums came from Champion's Mountain Organics, the honey from Malfroy's Gold, the cold pressed macadamia oil from Hand n' Hoe Organics, the flour from Demeter Farm Mill, and the cherries from Yuri’s Sustainable Produce in Orange. 

Beautiful food, beautiful music, performing, and spending time with amazing people. Life really doesn’t get any better than this! 

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!  

Growing up we learn certain truths. Grass is green. Elephants are big. Sweet things are bad for you. And lemons are sour. We learn from a young age that lemons are condiment foods. We squeeze them onto fish and chips. We put lemon slices into jugs of water to make it less
boring. And occasionally we mix lemon juice with oodles of sugar and carbonated water to make lemonade (and more often we buy lemonade ready made, with no actual trace of real lemon...). And we learn that lemonade, no matter how delicious, belongs to the category of fizzy drinks. Therefore it is a sometimes food. Therefore it belongs in the category of all other junk foods: it’s tasty, but you can’t have it every day because it is bad for you. Sadness. And so goes the vicious cycle of human beings being addicted to sweet because it is rare in nature.

So imagine my surprise two weeks ago reading the Alfalfa House newsletter that there exists a fruit called a “lemonade,” and it is a sweet lemon. And imagine my delight, when visiting the Farmer’s Markets at Eveleigh last week, that it was readily available! According to Daley’s Fruit Tree Nursery, a lemonade is a cross between a true lemon and a Meyer lemon (apparently the most popular kind of lemon because it is a cross between an orange and a lemon and is not highly acidic). So I bought 2 lemonades, and let them sit in the fruit bowl for a few days. And then one chilly afternoon at work I cut open a lemonade and tentatively tasted the flesh. 

Oh sweet heavenly goodness. It was all true. A sweet lemon! It’s so sweet you can eat it like an orange, and I’m sure when I’m sick of eating it straight, I’ll take up my friend Carmel’s advice to try it in a sorbet... Mmm... lemonade  sorbet... 

As grown ups, we learn that the truths we learnt as children are not always so true. Grass is more likely to be brown. Elephants are big (some things in nature we cannot change). Lemons can be deliciously sweet, and lemonade can be an everyday food... bring on the vitamin C boosting over the next few months whilst this new found joy is in season! (On a side note, whilst researching this post, I discovered there is a fruit called chocolate pudding... I think a visit to Tropical Fruit World around August/September is in order!)

You may have noticed that the majority of this blog has been about food. That’s because food is awesome. Since reading Barbara Kingsolver’s delicious “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle,” I have become a little  obsessed with eating local, fresh, and where possible, organic, produce. I don’t  care what the skeptics say about organic food, you CAN taste the difference, and  it is a million times better. The flavours! The colour! The variety! I mean,
when was the last time you saw a round zucchin in the supermarket (pictured above)?

I’ve been visiting the Eveleigh Farmer’s Markets for about two months now with my market buddy Len (hi Lenny!), and I’ve become utterly addicted. Not only is the food fabulous, but the people (who also happen to be the farmers) are  utterly wonderful. Karen and her completely brilliant Willowbrae goat’s curd, David and Kerrie’s Hand ‘n’ Hoe sensational roasted macadamia nut butter (no really, it’s so good I’ve pretty much single-handedly made my way through three bottles of the stuff in less than two months) and the best garlic on the
planet, Champion's Mountain Organics from the Central Coast  with the best herbs, eggs, and veggies in the whole market, Yuri’s Sustainable  Produce with the most wonderful seasonal fruits and farmers who will not take your money until your bag is full to bursting with produce (“It’s still not full enough. Here, have some grapes...”), and the Mancini family with their  deliciously aromatic brilliant-for-cooking-but-so-good-you-could-use-it-as-a-dip
The  Little General olive oil from Griffith are among my favourites. 

Between the farmer’s markets and a new find, Harmony Wholefoods in Glebe, I’ve been able to eat pretty much all organic and mostly local food 7 days a week. I’ve been baking bread with wholegrain biodynamic flour (variations on a plain brown loaf have thus far included poppy seeds, oats, chia seeds, and rosemary), vegetable soups, salads bursting with so much flavour you don’t even need dressing, pizzas from scratch, tortillas, chickpea patties, fruit salads  with apples, peaches, plums, pears, and passionfruit (oh my!) that have my  office all sniffing the air enviously and asking where the delicious smell is  coming from, freshly squeezed orange juice... And all this for less than $100 a week. Mmm hmm! Now let us all open our mouths and enjoy wonderful food, marvellous food, glorious food!

I'm not really one for reality television (or television at all for that matter), but my little sister Phoebe (aged 7) recently discovered the program My Kitchen Rules. Having watched a total of one episode, I think the premise is something to the effect of teams of 2 from around Australia take turns each week to cook for each other and 2 judges. The cooking is timed, and each week’s couple has to “plate up” before the time is up. Once the food is served, everybody eats and makes comments about the presentation, choice of dishes, and taste of the food. There is some sort of elimination involved, along with lots of hugs, crying, and close up shots of the couples talking about each other. Anyway, Phoebe, inspired by the program,  decided that Saturday night’s dinner was going to be an intense, pre-grand final, episode of My Kitchen Rules. Meg (my step-Mum) and Phoebe, and Mr and Mrs Invisible, were this week’s contestants. Dad and I were the evening’s guest  judges. 

The Menu 
Entree -
Deconstruction Salad 
greens, spanish onion, beetroot, and organic fetta served with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar 
 
Main -
Cous Cous and Vegetables
cous cous cooked in orange juice and served with a mixed summer vegetable salad, and corn on the cob
 
Dessert - Chocolate coated strawberries
chocolate coated strawberries served on a bed of crushed meringue and ice cream 

The Verdict
Presenting the salad unmixed, with the ingredients artfully arranged on the plate was an interesting choice. The combination of ingredients was delicious however - light and refreshing and the perfect use of end-of-summer ingredients. The beetroot was cooked to perfection and matched well with the organic Southern Highland’s fetta. 

The cous cous cooked in orange juice and served with cranberries was surprisingly rich, and was a lovely contrast to the light though flavourful mixed summer vegetable salad. The fresh corn on the cob was sensational, however the team lost a point for not promptly serving butter with the corn. Overall, wonderfully fresh and full of flavour. 

Dessert was sweet and rich. The chocolate coated strawberries were indulgent on their own, however the combination with the crushed meringue and strawberry and vanilla ice cream made this a decadent dessert that was indeed a real treat and the perfect finisher for a fabulous meal. 

Phoebe (and Meg), scored a resounding 11 out of 10 from the evening’s judges, however Phoebe insisted that scores had to be out of 10, and she would rather an 8, so an 8 was awarded. Mr and Mrs. Invisible were awarded 2 points. 1 point for trying, and 1 point for having the guts to serve thin air. Phoebe also mentioned that they had burnt their main course, and failed to dish up on time. A disappointing effort from Mr and Mrs. Invisible, but a wonderful (and delicious) effort from Phoebe and Meg. If this is what reality tv inspires, then bring it on. The best part about it? There were no ads, the food tasted sensational, and the television was NOT the centre piece of the evening. Now that's my kind of kitchen rules!  

Breakfast this morning was heavenly. The bread was homemade by yours truly (containing flour, water, salt, a pinch of sugar, yeast, and fresh rosemary), the eggs were of the free-range organic variety from the Eveleigh Farmer’s Markets at Carriageworks, and the juice was freshly squeezed oranges (from the market) and lemons (from my aunt and uncle’s  garden - thank you Vicky and Trevor!). Mmm hmm! The setting, Mum’s balcony overlooking the Lane Cove River and Lane Cove National Park on a gorgeous blue sky Sydney summer day. Cicadas trilling, minor birds and lorikeets whistling to each other from their branches, a lone kookaburra cackling at it all from his perch in, yes, an old gum tree. What more does one need in life? 
 
On a side note, my visit to the Eveleigh Farmer's Market yesterday was also a real treat.  In celebration of the Chinese New Year, celebrated Chinese-Australian chef Kylie Kwong was giving a cooking demonstration. Her challenge for the morning had been to arrive at the markets, select ingredients, and give a live demonstration using only the ingredients found at the markets. Due to the swarm of people surrounding her, I unfortunately couldn't see a lot. Whatever she was cooking, it smelt amazing. The stalls were a sumptuous feast of (mostly) local, and  (mostly) organic or biodynamic fruits, vegetables, and occasional animal, of the  season. Hot off the vine or tree/out of the ground this week were capsicums, corn, carrots, brocolli, zucchini, beetroot, garlic, macadamia butter, olive oil, olives, stone fruits, oranges, apples, tomatoes, berries, avocados, and a plethora of green and fragrant herbs. Once again, what more does one need in life?!