I Could Never Be a Vegetarian

I distinctly remember
As a teenager
Eating a chicken leg
Actually gnawing on the gristle
And declaring to my vegetarian step-mum
"I could NEVER be a vegetarian.
I LOVE meat!"
Nom nom nom.

And then
When I was twenty-something
I got sick
Really sick
I was sick for a year
I had everything
Laryngitis
Bronchitis
Influenza
I got sick of being sick
I did a bit of research
And decided what was making me ill
Was my diet

I cut out meat
And boosted my intake
Of fresh leafy greens
Became friends with farmers' markets
And devoured
All colours of the rainbow
In fruit and vegetable form

I did it slowly over time
To get used to new flavours
New ways of cooking
And you know what?
I stopped getting sick
I started appreciating
Food
I learnt how to cook
With what was available
And seasonal and fresh

If you had told my teenage self
That one night
For fun
I would whip together
Raw courgette and carrot noodles
With a red pepper and pine nut sauce
And meatless eggplant balls
Because those were what she had in the fridge
She would have laughed
And said
"GROSS! Where's the MEAT?!
That meal has NOTHING in it!"

But my present-day-self
Offers thanks
To the farmers who grew all the veggies
The people that delivered them
And the recipes that inspired their ultimate
Delicious consumption

The end.

I'm Still Here

I quit Facebook
And people actually panicked
Lu! Where are you going? 
How will we know what's going on?
WHAT'S WRONG?! 

I'm living life
Further away from my computer
As best I can in this digital age
I'm cooking
Running
Exploring London
Seeing friends
Connecting with people
Reading more books

I've made
Raw zucchini pasta
And pumpkin pie
The FLAVOURS!
I've made cauliflower cous cous
(The cauliflower IS the cous cous
It's amazing!
Have you tried it?
Cinnamon and cauliflower and olive oil
Make the most delicious combination!)
I've made beet and apple and carrot salad
And spent an hour
Cracking nuts
And developing an understanding
Of the true meaning of
"A tough nut to crack"

I've been miserable
And happy
And frustrated
And inspired
And as Eckhart Tolle has guided
I've been here
To witness it all
I just have to remember
I'm still here

The end.

I Can Cook, Too

From DeviantArt

Roasted potatoes
And carrots
And celeriac
And celeriac soup
And rice and lentils
And hummus
And salad with tomatoes and avocado
With a world leader
Talking positive
In the background
Make for a delicious morning

The end.

You Say Potato

From Abel & Cole

Abel & Cole
Who deliver my food every week
From local farms
Suggested making potato mash
By first
Baking the potatoes on a bed of sea salt
And then mashing...
You say potato,
I say
Oh, sweet. heavenly. goodness!!!!

A Weekend in anoTHEr Country

In the morning you go out to meet another Aussie-expat and you go to a lovely Australian/New-Zealander cafe called Flat White and enjoy your renewed-found love of coffee. You make a note-to-self to find an alternative to espresso, as even four sugars per tiny cup seems excessive - though it is down from five. You enjoy delicious toast with homemade hummus and fresh avocado. It is the best hummus you have had in ages but you spend the rest of the day paranoid you reek of garlic. Afterwards you walk through beautiful St James's Park to the War Rooms. There are ducks and geese and swans and a woman is hand-feeding them over the fence. You think she is a bit mad, but realize that these birds are probably rather used to people hand-feeding them. 

The Churchill War Rooms are bizzare. They are secret bunkers for the British War Cabinet during The War. Small and slightly claustrophobic and when the war ended the people literally turned off the lights, walked out, closed the door, and didn't come back for decades. Now the rooms and corridors and bunkers are a museum and you can walk through and see exactly how it all was over seventy years ago. Imagine being in the rooms Back Then. The rooms would have been smokey because everybody smoked back then, and above you the world was falling apart and you didn't know if when you left work for the day (or night) if your house or even your street was still going to be there when you did. No one except the government was allowed to know that you worked there because it was Top Secret. If you were a secretary you had a special gas mask that allowed you keep talking on the telephone even during a gas attack. The War Stops For Nobody.  

You walk back to Soho to the Soho Theatre Bar to mingle with other drama students. You are late, but it seems you haven't missed much except a free drink. A casting director is giving a talk. She says things you have mostly heard before, but you're feeling light and inspired and you scribble down some of her points and feel a sense of renewed enthusiasm. Then you wander around the room and meet some of the other actors. They are all graduating this year too, ready to go out into the Big Wide World and try their luck at this acting thing. Will all this time and money and effort be worth it?

You meet a girl with Scandinavian/American heritage. She wants to move to New York and live the life of a starving actor. She knows it's a bit weird to want that life, but you understand what she means. It's New York. And then you meet a boy who gives you the feeling that he is on the cusp of something brilliant, but you're not quite sure what it is, but you're sure he is destined for great things. And then you meet another girl who is interested in verbatim theatre and using theatre to make a positive difference to the world. And it is nice to meet someone as excited and passionate as you about the possibility of theatre. 

You head home on the tube. And you get home and you make chickpea patties, which you haven't made in the longest time, and you make a big batch of quinoa and steam some spinach. And you spread a little beetroot dip from yesterday's cooking adventures on the chickpea patties, and you pour out a little sweet chilli sauce. And you sit at your desk to do some work and you breathe and smile and know that you have had a most wonderful day. 

The end.

You'll Never Walk Alone

http://www.sharonwheatley.com/

Sometimes you are down and out and feeling really crappy. And you feel like drama school is just code for "expensive creative therapy." And you've spent the day questioning yourself and doubting yourself and feeling super frustrated that your top notes aren't where you want them to be. And feeling like It Is All Really Hard. And then you come home and you make a massive batch of rice and lentils and carrot and leek and beans which you stuff into freshly baked capsicums and your flatmate has cleaned the bathroom and it doesn't feel so share-housey anymore and you have an amazing internet connection which gives you access to the world. And you have a really good cry. And then you stumble across blogs of Broadway actresses and you read them and remember that "the journey" is at times just "hard" but dear child, you never walk alone. And you can still smile. And you can still be inspired. And you can go to bed feeling like the sun will come out tomorrow. The end.

Chestnuts Roasting

What on earth possessed a human to look down at a chestnut pod and think

Hmm, I’m going to crack open that there spiky pod and then I’m going to take out what ever is inside and I’m going to throw it on a fire and crack it open again and eat the yellowy white flesh in the middle

Because truly, chestnuts are a strange item

And it is hard to imagine that you didn’t eat your first roasted chestnut until you were 24 and walking the Camino in rural northern Spain

Because by that time in history chestnuts had already been reduced to a cliche

Swooney tunes sung by swooney men at Christmas time in the northern hemisphere

Entire worlds away from your birthplace

And at 24 you are walking through a chestnut forest with your beloved

And you wonder if the chestnuts on the ground all around you are edible

And you exclaim I want a roasted chestnut! 

And you round a corner and there are Giuseppe and Maria collecting chestnuts

And Giuseppe calls out to you

And you start chatting

And he talks about the niños in the area lighting fires at this time of year

And you and your beloved shake your heads and tsk-tsk those naughty niños because where we come from children who light fires in the forest at the end of summer are asking for trouble

But this is northern rural Spain

And autumn time is chestnut time

And Giuseppe lights a fire and throws a couple of chestnuts into it

And you stare around nervously wondering if it is ok to be in the middle of the forest with old Spanish men lighting fires

And then he gives you a smoldering chestnut

And you peel it

And it burns your fingers

And then you taste your first roasted chestnut

And it is like a hot potato

It is like a hot potato with just the right amount of butter

It is amazing

It is heaven

Suddenly the cliche makes total sense  

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire

And two years later you are at home in Ashfield

And your beloved is gone

But you have a bag of chestnuts from the markets

And you’ve roasted them in the oven according to your uncle’s advice

And the smell of it makes your heart yearn for another time

And you peel the first chestnut

And the heat of it surprises you

And then you bite into it

And the taste is as blissful as heavenly as wondrous as you remember

And you remember the time and place and happenings of your first chestnut

And you smile

And you wonder how it is it all began 

Don't Judge a Soup

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. 

Sunday Night

Happiness is coming home on a Sunday night after a long week of work and rehearsals and teaching and being able to chat to your family on the phone and throw together a pot of potato and leek soup and have a vegetable quiche slowly cooking in the oven, ready for lunches and dinners for the following week. It's slicing up a loaf of fresh sourdough bread from the markets, ready for toasts and sandwiches. It's having Adam Hills and Co. playing in the background, making you laugh as you chop spring onions and leeks and peel potatoes and throw diced pumpkin into a pot of boiling water to soften the flesh. It's finding a double yoke in the last egg. It's going to group meditation and feeling the love and being surrounded by oodles of positive energy. It's listening to podcasts on the train on the way home. It's wearing gumboots in the rain. It's the kindness and support of your friends. It's watching a musical with scripts in hands and being so close to the actors you can literally reach out and touch them. It's the magic of being able to watch productions of shows thousands of miles away on your laptop. It's about taking pause amidst the hustle and smiling and saying wow. I live a life enchanted. And it is magical. And you lick leek and potato soup off the wooden spoon and know you've done good. The end. 

You Don't Win Friends with Salad

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.

Christmas Stocking

Christmas has passed and it’s now the season for taking stock of the year. Some of this year has been awful. But you breathe into the pain, and you just keep breathing, and suddenly you find that you are surrounded by an absolute plethora of amazing food, music, family, friends, and theatre. And you come to the end of the year with the ability to say that much of it has been utterly wonderful. In no particular order, the beautiful, inspiring, exciting, and lovely things in my life this year have been...

• The Eveleigh Farmer’s Markets with my bestie Len
• Starting dance, singing, and flute lessons again
• Starting Flusical with Flick
• Starting the Movie Musical Project
• Learning to cook pasta, ice cream, polvoron, bread, pastry, and cheese from scratch
• Quitting the security of a full-time job to pursue theatre and it being utterly wonderful 
• Getting paid to watch Jersey Boys several times a week
• Moving to Ashfield with beautiful housies 
• Developing my personal meditation practise, obtaining my Meditation Facilitator’s Certificate, running morning meditations in Glebe
• Performing in The Pajama Game and meeting all the beautiful wonderful people at Strathfield Musical Society
• Singing with the Bling Band
• Running my first City to Surf  
• Discovering MusicalTalk, Seth Rudetsky, Amy Krouse Rosenthal, and Superforest 
• Knowing that I am surrounded by the most beautiful, talented, wonderful, supportive friends
• Knowing that I have incredibly beautiful, talented, wonderful, supportive families 
• Working with amazing people 
• Seeing Shoshana Bean, Donna McKechnie, Stephen Schwartz, and Liz Callaway perform in Sydney and Brisbane 
• Being accepted into the London Central School of Speech and Drama Masters of Music Theatre program

Yum and Fun

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! 

It's Only For Now

The only constant is change. Around this time a year ago I thought I was getting married and moving into my own apartment with my (now ex) beloved. Around this time two years ago I was hanging out at summer camp and getting ready to walk the Camino. Around this time three years ago I was despairing that I would ever meet a single straight guy who loves theatre (ok, some things may never change...). Despite many amazing things happening in my life right now, of late I have been feeling uninspired and tired. I have to trust that this feeling will change. 

And so, in an attempt to remain positive and be kind to myself, I have compiled a list of things, in no particular order, that inspire me... 

meditation. musicals. running. listening to Seth Rudetsky. watching Seth Rudetsky. reading a good novel or short story. listening to classic fm. watching a movie musical. dancing. writing. spending time with beautiful people. being kind to myself. eating dark chocolate. reading superforest. spending an afternoon in a library. going to a talk and getting fired up. candles. having a good sing. sitting in bed and listening to the neighbour practise their violin. listening to musicaltalk. journalling. colouring in. sitting in the sun on a bright blue sky and reading a good book. learning. buck’s rock. the idea of living on an organic theatre farm. travel. the camino. eating beautiful food. cooking beautiful food. Eveleigh Farmer’s Markets. sustainability. possibility. falling in crush. superforest. reading old diaries. watching musicals on youtube. going to good theatre. creating theatre. performing. playbill.com. 

As they say in Avenue Q, “Everything in life is only for now! Life may be scary, but it’s only temporary...” This too shall pass, and soon I will have the energy to go out and conquer the world!

The Day of Pasta Making

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!). 

Food, Glorious Food!

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 below)? 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!

Phoebe's Kitchen Rules

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! 

Sunday Breakfast

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?!

Baking Bread

The hip, not-so-new thing amongst organic food lovers and locavores (people who try to source all their food from within a 100 mile radius of where they live) is cooking with sprouted grains. You take whole grains, sprout them by rinsing them in water twice a day for a few days, grind them into a paste and bake. Apparently sprouting grains helps one absorb more minerals, increases the vitamin content of the grain, and is more easily digested. Woohoo. Plus, it is meant to taste fabulous. Inspired by an article in my 2010 Permaculture Diary, I decided to have a go at baking “Essene bread” (the Essene’s, my diary tells me, were “peace loving, mostly celibate, vegetarian folk who lived communally with collective ownership” around the time just before and after Jesus. They have since, not so surprisingly, died out).

I took four cups of whole dry wheat grain, and watched with amazement as the little brown grains grew longer and longer white and green tails over the space of a couple of days. When the sprouts were long enough (approximately the same size as the grain), I threw them in a food processor with a bit of water, and churned out a gooey paste. I discovered I’d used a little too much water, and the paste was a little too gooey. But I persevered. I beamed positive vibes at the round goo as I placed it in the oven and let it bake for over 2 hours.

The result? The edges, which had caramelised, were as delicious as the article had promised. Like a rich dark brown sourdough with bursts of juicy flavour. The insides however were just sloppy goo... But, hurrah! I have baked with sprouted grains! And I know for next time not to use so much water, to set the oven at a slightly lower temperature, and to let it all bake for longer. I’ll be back Essene bread... even if your inventors never will be! 

Gourmet Dinner for Two

Coming home on the train last night I was imagining what I was going to cook for dinner. I decided on roast tomatoes and cous cous. I could taste the light and fluffy yellow cous cous, prepared in vegetable stock, mixed in with peas, carrots, capsicum, and creamy fetta. Once home I sliced two tomatoes, drizzled them in the dark balsamic and light olive oil, and liberally sprinkled the juicy red half-moons with salt and pepper. Next step, to the cupboard to claim the cous cous. But when I got there, the cupboard was bare. Well, not quite bare, but bare of cous cous. The sadness! 


Luckily for me, my wistful taste buds and I have spent the last week reading Frances Mayes' mouthwatering memoir “Under the Tuscan Sun.” Oh how I wish we could all jet off to Tuscany every summer to restore an ancient farm house and fill it with ingredients picked up from the local town or back(vine)yard! Even as a vegetarian, Maye’s descriptions of chickens roasted with 40 cloves of garlic (40!!!!) and endless variations of bruschette, and hazelnut ice cream have made me a salivating wreck on Sydney’s buses and trains after work. 


So, with Frances Mayse and her Tuscan kitchen on my mind, I turned to the classic staple, pasta. I roasted the tomatoes, along with some diced potatoes, garlic, and onion until they were all sweet and soft. Along with a generous helping of kalamata olives, a drizzle of olive oil, and a sprinkling of oregano, I tossed them through a batch of pasta. Mmm hmm! And there’s still enough left to take for lunch this week. Ah, heaven. Thank you Frances Mayes!