A single's survival guide: Retirement? Not on my watch

Monday, April 30, 2012

Retirement? Not on my watch

If ever I wanted confirmation that we live in a disposable society (and I didn’t), it came at the weekend and showed me that some of the kids of today just don't get it.
Now, I have a watch ... a 17-jewel movement, solid-gold watch given to me by my grandmother for my birthday in 1966. It's still a thing of beauty and I still get a kick out of the fact that I have to wind it every day ... yeah, it doesn't have a battery.
A bit like its owner, age has wearied it a tad ... the winder mechanism has worn a bit ... reckon after 46 years everything wears a bit and it's hard to get the part to repair it, but I do. (My personal winder is still in working order for what it's worth.)
I go to the same jeweller in South Melbourne about every 18 months or so and get it serviced or fixed when the need arises.
As I did last Saturday. There was a kid on duty in the shop ... about 18 or so, a really personable young fella and I'm guessing it was his first job.
I explained that I was somewhat of a regular because of my watch.
I was blown away when he said: “Perhaps it’s time to get rid of it and get a new one.”
Apart from the fact that it is (I have been told … and it was something offered, not asked for) worth about four grand (probably more given that the estimate was given to me about 10 years ago), it’s part of my life, a tangible link to my long-departed grandma. It’s something I’ll have and use until I eventually step off the coil. I love it.
My grandma, by the way, always put lots of thought into her gift giving.
I still have my first Esky – a blue, galvanised-iron number that holds just a six pack – which she gave me when it had become apparent that six packs would play a constant part in my life. Yeah, she could read the signs early.

PAR FOR THE COURSE

Speaking of age wearying things, I had a hit at the local golf driving range three days ago with some mates.
Reckon in the main I hit them pretty well.
But it hit back. Three days on and the pain of using muscles long idle is finally subsiding.
I guess that means it has to become a regular thing to avoid three days of feeling like I’ve been hit by a bus.

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THOUGHTS TO GET YOU THROUGH THE DAY

Risk taking, trust and serendipity are the key ingredients of joy. Without risk, nothing new ever happens. Without trust, fear creeps in. Without serendipity, there are no surprises.

Love is like wine. To sip is fine, but to empty the bottle is a headache.

If you have to think about whether you love someone or not, then the answer is no. When you love someone, you just know.

There's no such thing as the perfect relationship ... because there's no such thing as the perfect man.

Happiness is the continuation of happenings that are not resisted - Deepak Chopra

Be yourself: everyone else is already taken - Oscar Wilde

Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.

Realise you are responsible for your life. The decisions, the choices you make are yours. Don't blame elsewhere for things not working out, take responsibility, change the things that need changing.

Believe in your dreams and they may come true; believe in yourself and they WILL come true.

Be where you are; otherwise you will miss your life.

I'm not looking for someone to live with ... I'm looking for someone I can't live without.

A healthy attitude is contagious but don't wait to catch it from others. Be a carrier.

We are always getting ready to live but never living.

What you want to do, and what you can do, is limited only by what you can dream.

The only real limitation on you abilities is the level of your desires. If you want it badly enough, there are no limits on what you can achieve.

The saddest tears shed over someone are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.

Use the past as a guide to the future, not as an excuse for not dealing with it.

You haven’t failed until you quit trying ... unless someone says to you, "sure I'd like to catch up. Anyway, I have to return your books."

Compassion is a feeling from deep in the heart that you cannot bear someone else's suffering without taking steps to relieve it. - Dalai Lama

More often in life we regret the chances we had but didn’t take, rather than the chances we took and wished we hadn’t.

Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life’s about creating yourself.

Live your life each day as you would climb a mountain. An occasional glance towards the summit keeps the goal in mind, but many beautiful scenes are to be observed from each new vantage point.

Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.

When you see the word "impossible" you should always see "I'm possible".

If a great love does not destroy you, smash you to pieces, then you never really loved in the first place.

No matter where you are travelling, it will still be now when you arrive. Live in the present

Find what/who you love and love what/who you find.

The only thing anyone should ever be able to steal from you is your heart. Your dignity and worth are not up for grabs.

INDEX OF RECIPES

Crab cakes

An easy tart

Middle Eastern lamb tart (Recipe from Delicious magazine)

Lime and chilli scallops with minted pea and wasabi puree

Pistachio and pork terrine

(Mostly from Stephanie Alexander’s The Cook’s Companion).
Chicken, asparagus & lemon cassoulet (serves 2)
CURRY DINNER PARTY
Lamb and spinach curry
Sweet beef and coconut curry
Chicken drumettes in tumeric and paprika
Side dishes ... Raita, banana and coconut, apple and yoghurt

ASIAN-STYLE SOUPS
Laksa
Chicken, vegetable and noodle
Pho
Hot and sour

SALMON/SMOKED SALMON AND
MARSCAPONE STARTER
Quick, good looking and tasty.

EASY FRIED RICE
And there's plenty left for another day.

WINE ... SOME COMMENTS I'VE MADE ON CRIKEY

A wine that’s good in its own write

Question time. What do the following have in common? Hints of hot terra cotta tiles, herbal tobacco in the middle, Plasticine, some iron and bark, some dry dirt earthiness, a rustic smell, old cedar chest spiciness, smoke, coal dust, dry dirt, wet stones, dried cow pat and brick dust.

If you answered something along the lines of a country building site, you’d be right on the money. Not.

Actually, perhaps if I’d thrown in pear skin, dried plums, citrus notes, floral nose, berries, chocolate, banana, lime, guava skin, blackcurrant and pith, you’d have guessed that it was something to do with wine … or not.

But all of those tastes-smells, yes even the dried cow pat, have been in wine reviews that I have read at one time or another, I kid you not. Pith? Gives a whole new meaning to being on the pith.

I have this theory that there are wine writers who liberally lace their reviews with such things to sound, well, pompous in the way that James May (of Top Gear) often describes wine expert Oz Clarke in the always-entertaining Oz and James’ Great Wine Adventure on the telly.

It is a theory I have discussed long and hard with the most excellent wine writer Jane Faulkner. Sure, I’ve sat with Jane, shared the odd bottle or so over dinner, and done the smell-taste test and come up with things that I’d never thought I would (she found more, of course, but she’s bloody good at it), but when it comes to the everyday test, I don’t know a soul (wine writers notwithstanding) who ever do anything more than have a cursory sniff, a quick taste and then say: “I like this” or “I don’t like this”.

I reckon I should know given that I’ve spent enough of my hard-earned on wine at Lina’s Wine Bar in Albert Park, Melbourne (another story for another day). Contrary to what many may think, I also have a reasonable circle of (sometimes unreasonable) wine-drinking friends, all of the “yes-no” persuasion.

All of which brings me to a what-to-do-tonight scenario given that it may involve wine.

If you’re looking for a bottle of really decent white at around 20 bucks (OK, it’s $21.45) you could do so, so much worse than grabbing a bottle of 2007 Chateau Nicot (Bordeaux) sauvignon-semillon blend.

It really goes so much easier than some of the over-the-top-with-fruit, mouth-stripping blends from across the ditch in New Zealand … I always think of them having the same effect on the palate as would a glass of Draino or sucking on a lemon.

The Chateau Nicot smells good, is pretty easy (read soft) in the mouth, tastes a treat and I always hanker for a second bottle when the first has gone. It’s got a cork stopper (I kinda like the screwtop) and the label (it’s in French) won’t do your chances any harm if, say, you were having dinner with a special friend. Beyond that, it’s great when you’re thirsty.

And while it may lead to someone expressing some bullshit (the drinker’s curse), there’s not so much as a hint of cow pat anywhere.

The details: The 2007 Chateau Nicot (Bordeaux) sauvignon-semillon is available at Randall’s. Based in Victoria, but you can order online throughout Australia.

It’s also available as part of a summery dozen offered by Wine Station that also includes pear cider.

Drink a glass of history

Age is a funny thing. The more you get the less you want — unless, of course, you’re talking about The Age, which, when you can get it (my newsagent again bemoaned the fact that it was two hours late on Saturday) is a case of more is less, at least in terms of news. But I digress.

Age does, however, become a good thing when it comes to wine and thoughts of indulgence, all near and dear to my heart. Proof? I recall walking into a bottleshop in 1992, the day the 1990 Grange was released. It was $110 a bottle and, given I had the necessaries, I grabbed one, which now sells for about a grand. One day I’ll indulge.

Recently I jumped at the chance to buy another indulgent bottle after my local wine shop manager, Cameron at Randalls, recommended something he said was one of the best I have ever had. It was a Taltarni cabernet sauvignon, circa 1977, just four years younger than my most recent girlfriend and it weighed in at $130 a bottle. Indulgent? Oh yeah.

There was a wonderful sense of anticipation as I removed the foil, eased in the corkscrew and held my breath as I slowly eased it out. Pop. Good noise, that. The cork, a rich ruby red at the bottom, was in good shape and smelled a treat. A careful wipe to remove bits and pieces that had taken up residence at the top of the neck and it was game on.

Slowly, slowly, it was poured into a big-bottomed decanter where the sediment settled nicely.

A good sniff — yep, it was ready to drink. (My nose isn’t all that adept at picking up — insert your own list of wine wanker words here — anything other than tobacco, but that may have been a result of the Champion Ruby rollies on the table.) An hour to breathe; time enough to cook pasta with bolognaise sauce (plenty of vegetable matter too to get up the food group count) and the indulgence began.

It was like smelling and drinking a small part of history; a sensation similar to that first thirsty sip of something on a really hot day: silky smooth yet robust, refreshing, luscious, sensuous, oh and ever-so-indulgent … although I don’t think it had a lot of bottle time left in it.

There were, however, downsides — getting to the bottom of the decanter and the heavy head the morning after. A small price but worth every hard-earned dollar.

There are two more 1977 Taltarnis in my wine cupboard waiting for someone special with whom to share, but it has to be someone who doesn’t mind indulgence occasionally.

The details: Randalls is in Hawthorn, Geelong and Albert Park in Melbourne and sells online. Taltarni is in the Pyrenees wine region of Victoria.

The finest 28-year-old I’ve ever met

There are too often times when someone says “this is the best this or the best that I have ever had” without really meaning it. I said it about a wine on November 22, 1981 and I’ve not had a gargle of anything since to give me reason to recant (or should that be decant?). Even the odd Grange along the way is not gonna get the nod over my all-time favourite, a Chateau Tahbilk marsanne.

It was, mind, a 1953 Tahbilk marsanne and it was the first wine served at a luncheon I attended in the winery’s old cellar on that beautiful sunny November Sunday.

If I was a wine wanker, I’d say that the marsanne was the colour of a tropical sunset as seen from under a palm at Mission Beach while sipping Pimms (half lemonade, half dry ginger and a slice of cucumber are all mandatory for a splendid Pimms) … it was maybe even the colour and consistency of honey … with abundant floral notes and a basket of tropical fruits of all sorts on the nose … and what it did to the palate, my god, the tips of angel wings spring to mind … did I mention its minerality?

But hey, I’m no wine wanker, so I’m not saying any of those things … again. It was simply the best thing to ever pass my lips.

The lunch was to celebrate 50 years of Purbrick family involvement in winemaking. We had six of Tahbilk’s new releases for the year before we made our way into the old cellar for lunch at a wonderful trestle table surrounded by huge casks and the smell of … well, a very fine old wine cellar. And the wines. Oh, sweet mother of Jesus … we kicked off with the ‘53 marsanne and onto the ‘64 cab-sav, then magnums of the ‘70 cab-sav and finished with a 1978 Eric Purbrick Commemorative Port. Oh yeah, there was food too. So marsanne, Tahbilk and I go back quite a ways.

All of which is a long-winded way of saying that you could do a lot worse than spending 15 bucks or thereabouts for an ‘09 Tahbilk marsanne to have with your tucker tonight. I reckon it goes OK — pretty much like most if not all of the Tahbilk wines — and you can buy it at most places. And if you’re up for it, you could even stash a couple of bottles of marsanne for a few years, given that is has a habit of getting better with age.

And beyond that, if you have an afternoon to spare, make the trip up the Hume to the winery (just near Nagambie) and have a look about, taste the odd gem, have a chin wag with the staff, a bite at the Wetlands Café and enjoy either a cruise or wander in the wildlife reserve. You can also follow the comings and goings at the winery on Twitter, whatever that is.

The details:

Tahbilk Winery 254 O’Neils Road, Tabilk via Nagambie, Cellar Door open Monday to Friday 9am-5pm, weekends and public holidays 10am-5pm; Tahbilk Wetlands Café is open seven days a week — closed Christmas Day.

A single's survival guide

66 shades of grey

cross

Shark

the rock

oodnadatta track

ME IN A NUTSHELL

Monday, April 30, 2012

Retirement? Not on my watch

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Drink a glass of history

TRIED AND TRUE RECIPES

SURVIVAL TIPS