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.
66 shades of grey
66 shades of grey ... this pic of me was shot by Kim, of Kim Thomsen's Photography at Daly Waters in the Northern Territory. Kim just wandered over and asked whether it was OK to get some character shots.
cross
The cross is in front of the church in Karumba and it seems TV antennas have a greater reach for the sky.
Shark
I went fishing out of Nhulunbuy on the Gulf of Carpentaria. We anchored in a bay about 10 hours from Nhulunbuy and went ashore. This poor fella had been snared in the locals' overnight net and then had a run-in with the resident 14-foot saltwater croc - named Nike by the local indigenous fellas - and came off second best.
the rock
Uluru
oodnadatta track
What a tough place to live ... this is out on the Oodnadatta Track
ME IN A NUTSHELL
- Mick
- G’day, I’m Michael and I have two fantastic grown-up kids. I’m a jeans and singlet/T-shirt, cowboy boot, tattoos sort of fella, who knows a bit about this and sometimes a lot about that. I'll have a crack at most things, although having a relationship? ... well that ship has sailed. I'm past my use-by date anyway, so I'm gonna make it all about me and surviving life as I know it ... or make it.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Why shopping locally is a good thing
I always knew that Sunday would be a good day. Got up nice and early to write a blog post, then did a bit of local must-do shopping before hitting the South Melbourne Market to buy whatever.
So, unusually, I snagged a parking spot at the door.
Now, given that I’m somewhat of a bogan … yeah the hair at the back is a definite mullet when it’s not tied into a ponytail. So, I wandered in to the hairdresser and asked if someone would be able to plait it for me.
“No problems,” said a bloke I’d not seen there before. “Come on in, we can do it now.”
I grabbed a seat and the young girl, as she was busily putting a sheet over me, said: “So, how much are we taking off?”
“Sorry,” I said, “but I just asked if someone could plait the crap hangin’ down the back of my neck.”
“OK, too easy,” she said.
She did it in a couple of minutes. I wandered over to pay and the bloke said to me “Nah, on the house. It just took a couple of minutes. Just as long as you do someone a good turn today, that’ll be enough.”
I thanked them both and left with a smile on my face and headed to the stall where I get most of my shampoo/deodorant type stuff, where I bought deodorant and Band-Aids. I was telling the girl who served me about the good turn at the hairdresser.
“That’s great,” she said, “but I’ll do your plait any time you want.” I’m a regular customer and we always chat, but that’s above and beyond.
“You’re on” I said as I wandered off.
I bought some chicken and vegetables, some cheeses, a baguette, had a long chat with Tony, the butcher, (I didn’t buy anything from him, but he still has the time to be nice … he’s at stall 32 and has fantastic produce) and then bought a couple of bottle of Sunbury point from Swords (nine times out of 10 I get a discount of some sort).
For me, it’s hard to believe what I did next … for the first time probably since the seventies, I bought a jumper, what’s more, it’s a red jumper, and a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Shit, I finally own a jumper.
So, unusually, I snagged a parking spot at the door.
Now, given that I’m somewhat of a bogan … yeah the hair at the back is a definite mullet when it’s not tied into a ponytail. So, I wandered in to the hairdresser and asked if someone would be able to plait it for me.
“No problems,” said a bloke I’d not seen there before. “Come on in, we can do it now.”
I grabbed a seat and the young girl, as she was busily putting a sheet over me, said: “So, how much are we taking off?”
“Sorry,” I said, “but I just asked if someone could plait the crap hangin’ down the back of my neck.”
“OK, too easy,” she said.
She did it in a couple of minutes. I wandered over to pay and the bloke said to me “Nah, on the house. It just took a couple of minutes. Just as long as you do someone a good turn today, that’ll be enough.”
I thanked them both and left with a smile on my face and headed to the stall where I get most of my shampoo/deodorant type stuff, where I bought deodorant and Band-Aids. I was telling the girl who served me about the good turn at the hairdresser.
“That’s great,” she said, “but I’ll do your plait any time you want.” I’m a regular customer and we always chat, but that’s above and beyond.
“You’re on” I said as I wandered off.
I bought some chicken and vegetables, some cheeses, a baguette, had a long chat with Tony, the butcher, (I didn’t buy anything from him, but he still has the time to be nice … he’s at stall 32 and has fantastic produce) and then bought a couple of bottle of Sunbury point from Swords (nine times out of 10 I get a discount of some sort).
For me, it’s hard to believe what I did next … for the first time probably since the seventies, I bought a jumper, what’s more, it’s a red jumper, and a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Shit, I finally own a jumper.
R&R par excellence, a fantastic beer and other stuff
Being in her space … it’s like the feeling of being in love for the very first time …
The prospect of some well-earned R&R loomed large for a quite few days … it finally came to pass last weekend. Some time at Balgownie Estate winery in the Yarra Valley was a perfect way to blow away the cobwebs of the city.
It’s not a long drive before finding yourselves in the rolling hills and myriad signs directing you to all sorts of good things from the vine.
The sign that first got our attention was Fergusson’s, and it was a good thing. We opted for lunch there, providing they had a platter of bits and pieces and a place to sit in the sun and a glass of decent wine. Tick, tick, tick.
The girl doing front of house in the restaurant would be an asset anywhere. She was super in organising lunch (super in all she did). There were options … a menu that included various roasts (they were sitting, being warmed by the large open fire and smelled fantastic), but we wanted a platter.
Although she explained that the chef usually did an antipasto platter or a cheese platter, she said she’d organise a mix.
We grabbed a glass of a most excellent Fergusson’s chardonnay and snaffled a table in the sun. It started out perfectly … the wine really hit the spot with plenty of fruit (think melons and berries) … and then it got better. The platter arrived and it was a bloody cracker. Warm, spiced calamari rings, warm and chunky garlic prawns (with some excellent home-made aioli), some smoked salmon, some ham, a hard cheese, a soft cheese, pitted olives, pan-roasted veg including eggplant, zucchini, capsicum, various greens, thick slices of crusty, freshly baked bread, a basket full of water crackers … was this the best $25 ever spent? Yep, it was $25. OK, maybe not the best but it was right up there. It was one of those lunches that deserved to be taken slowly … and it was. The sun was shining, we had the large balcony to ourselves, the food and wine were great and it would have been so easy to camp there for the weekend. But Balgownie was calling. Check-in time was 2pm and there were some cold bubbles on ice.
The room was spacious, well fitted out, there was a large spa, and from the balcony (and the spa for that matter) there was a leafy view of most things Yarra Valley.
So what better place than the balcony to sit, chat and sip … the drink of choice was chilled Moet. It was a perfect way to relax before heading to the day spa for a massage … yeah, OK, but I did say that this was a weekend of R&R.
Although the day spa staff was running a bit behind schedule, it was worth the wait. We were ushered into what they call a dual room and the girls set about unleashing all the stresses and knots, whatever. It was at times painful (but always good pain) and I can’t remember feeling physically better after a massage.
As we were leaving the spa, the girl at reception apologised for the lateness of the treatment and gave us a couple of discount vouchers for treatment at any of the Natskin outlets (there just so happens to be one about five minutes from my house).
Feeling so relaxed was a good enough reason for a glass or two of 2011 Ad Hoc Hen & Chicken Chardonnay, a perfect prelude to dinner at Rae’s Restaurant in the Balgownie complex.
A seat by the window, watching the beautiful light show that is the large tree by the road, was the setting.
Dinner was a mixed bag (in a good way). One starter of squid was simply too much squid and the other of scallops; there were just three on the plate and they were tiny. Both dishes were well cooked, tasty, but the size of the serves deserved more thought.
The wine, on the other hand, was perfectly thought out. While there are plenty of good options on Rae’s wine list, it was no contest: the Balgownie Estate 2004 Chardonnay from the Museum Collection. Sure, it was $85 a bottle, but it sang like Ella Fitzgerald. It was everything I love in a chardonnay … and I really love ‘em.
It sat well with the mains too, which were aged beef, one medium rare and one rare, with some (I reckon) hand-cut spuds and veggies.
The (eye fillet) beef arrived at the table under a plate dome. The reason? They were being smoked with (I think) some grape vine cuttings … and it was a masterstroke. The smokiness had attached itself to the beef … shit it was good … and it was the perfect way to end dinner and a great day.
OK, it wasn’t the end … a couple of cognacs delivered by room service made it just so.
Breakfast at Balgownie is a buffet at Rae’s … and there is almost everything you’d ever want at the ungodly hour that is 9.30 … eggs this way and that, bacon, beans, snags, mushrooms, hash browns … juices of all sorts, teas and coffee of all sorts, bread of all sorts for toast, buns, pastries … OK you get the idea. A table by the window didn’t do any harm either.
It was the second trip to Balgownie. Reckon it won’t be the last.
BUTT OUT
It’s into the third week of not smoking for me. Yeah, I’ve done it before but this time is different.
I went to see Angelo, the hypnotist, and said to him: “Mate, this time is different to the others. I really want it more than ever. I’m ready.”
The treatment (dunno if that’s what you call it) was as I remember it … and I went really deeply into it, to the point of the odd snore/snort probably half a dozen times. I apologised for that when it was over but, according to Angelo, it’s normal for those of us that go really deeply.
As I was leaving, I said to Angelo: “Thanks mate. I never want to see you again.” To which he replied: “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I headed home and did what any new non-smoker would do.
I slammed some ice into a glass and poured a couple of huge belts of bourbon, something I’d normally do with a smoke in my hand.
No problems, I didn’t really feel like a smoke.
Undeterred, I headed to Lina’s wine bar and met up with some friends for a gargle, some of whom were partaking of tobacco.
Again, no problems.
Yeah, there has been the odd time when I’ve had a pang when I’ve been up close and personal with a smoker, but I’m not gonna be broken. And the fifty bucks a week that it was costing is going into a jar every week. I can feel a holiday coming on later in the year.
If you’re keen to get a bit healthy, give Angelo a call … 1300 116 117 … apart from being a bloody good bloke, he’s good at what he does.
CHISEL AND JACK
It’s always a good test for ex-smokers to go to a rock concert … I reckon I always used to enjoy that first one when I stepped outside the venue, ears ringing, still feeling the buzz of the music and the buzz from whatever I’d had to drink during same.
With a few mates, I went to watch Cold Chisel last week at Festival Hall … it was great to see the band again and they were in great form after the first couple of songs where, to me, the mix was a bit muddy.
And what to drink when you’ve got Chisel doing their thing … it’s a can a Jack, I reckon … but sweet mother of Jesus, 10 bucks a can is a bit steep. I remember whingeing about paying ten bucks a can in Vanuatu earlier this year.
But hey, it was Chisel. And great news for the band … Barnesy announced that they would be in London in July, touring with Bruce Springstein.
Maybe that smoke money in the jar will get me a ticket.
After the gig, we (my son Joel and mate Fulvio) headed back to my place for a quiet drink (not for Joel) and a debrief of the night.
Given the Fulv and his wife, Jacinta, married to Warrenmang winery in 1997, I thought it appropriate to open a bottle of Warrenmang Grand Pyrenees 1999.
It was a good decision although not without its moments. The cork decided to break up a bit while making its exit, but some careful and dextrous work by yours truly got it out cleanly and poured the precious liquid into a decanter to give it a breath of fresh air … surprisingly there was no sediment.
Bloody good drink it was, although it changed (OK it seemed to) character several times on the way to the bottom of the decanter … spicy, well-rounded, soft and well balanced.
It was very, very good, probably the best drop of late in a wine list that has included some decent drinking:
Among them Te Kairanga Martinborough Estate Pinto Noir 2009; Roland Masse 2010 Pinot Noir from the Yarra Valley; Camelback 2010 Pinot Noir from Sunbury; and the beautifully named Lethbridge Menage a Noir 2010 Pinot Noir from Geelong. It’s a cracker drink (about 28 bucks at Vintage Cellars).
For me, the bargain … is that best value … dunno, I just like this one. It’s Bourgogne Chardonnay 2010 from the south of Burgundy … it’s the Macon area (I went there many moons ago). The wine is available from Vintage Cellars and at $18 or thereabouts, it’s great drinking.
WHAT A BEER
And speaking of great drinking, reckon I’ve found a beer that’s gonna hard to beat.
Yesterday morning (OK, it was just before noon) I had a taste of three beers at Sword’s wine shop in the South Melbourne Market.
The standout for me was Little Creatures Single Batch The Quiet American in a 568ml bottle. 568ml??? What the hell size is that?
It’s beautifully malty and the hops are huge on the nose … as the brewer says, it’s got a thought-provoking bitterness. I got bundles of green apples on the nose. I grabbed a couple of bottles, one of which I had later in the day after stocking up the freezer with some home-made laksa. (The freezer now has about eight meals of beef and veg casserole, a dozen serves of bolognaise sauce and eight serves of laksa … veg soup will be added today. It’s gonna make those cold winter nights a bit easier.)
A couple of glasses The Quiet American was a beautiful way to see out the afternoon. Seven bucks a bottle, it was worth every cent. Go to this link for a check at what Swords has to offer ... http://www.swordswines.com.au/
A NO-BOUNCE ZONE
And speaking of things glass, it was unfortunate to discover that iPads do not bounce, especially when introduced to a tiled floor. Mind you, the cracks in the glass made a really pretty pattern.
It was $249 to replace the glass. Sheesh.
The prospect of some well-earned R&R loomed large for a quite few days … it finally came to pass last weekend. Some time at Balgownie Estate winery in the Yarra Valley was a perfect way to blow away the cobwebs of the city.
It’s not a long drive before finding yourselves in the rolling hills and myriad signs directing you to all sorts of good things from the vine.
The sign that first got our attention was Fergusson’s, and it was a good thing. We opted for lunch there, providing they had a platter of bits and pieces and a place to sit in the sun and a glass of decent wine. Tick, tick, tick.
The girl doing front of house in the restaurant would be an asset anywhere. She was super in organising lunch (super in all she did). There were options … a menu that included various roasts (they were sitting, being warmed by the large open fire and smelled fantastic), but we wanted a platter.
Although she explained that the chef usually did an antipasto platter or a cheese platter, she said she’d organise a mix.
We grabbed a glass of a most excellent Fergusson’s chardonnay and snaffled a table in the sun. It started out perfectly … the wine really hit the spot with plenty of fruit (think melons and berries) … and then it got better. The platter arrived and it was a bloody cracker. Warm, spiced calamari rings, warm and chunky garlic prawns (with some excellent home-made aioli), some smoked salmon, some ham, a hard cheese, a soft cheese, pitted olives, pan-roasted veg including eggplant, zucchini, capsicum, various greens, thick slices of crusty, freshly baked bread, a basket full of water crackers … was this the best $25 ever spent? Yep, it was $25. OK, maybe not the best but it was right up there. It was one of those lunches that deserved to be taken slowly … and it was. The sun was shining, we had the large balcony to ourselves, the food and wine were great and it would have been so easy to camp there for the weekend. But Balgownie was calling. Check-in time was 2pm and there were some cold bubbles on ice.
The room was spacious, well fitted out, there was a large spa, and from the balcony (and the spa for that matter) there was a leafy view of most things Yarra Valley.
So what better place than the balcony to sit, chat and sip … the drink of choice was chilled Moet. It was a perfect way to relax before heading to the day spa for a massage … yeah, OK, but I did say that this was a weekend of R&R.
Although the day spa staff was running a bit behind schedule, it was worth the wait. We were ushered into what they call a dual room and the girls set about unleashing all the stresses and knots, whatever. It was at times painful (but always good pain) and I can’t remember feeling physically better after a massage.
As we were leaving the spa, the girl at reception apologised for the lateness of the treatment and gave us a couple of discount vouchers for treatment at any of the Natskin outlets (there just so happens to be one about five minutes from my house).
Feeling so relaxed was a good enough reason for a glass or two of 2011 Ad Hoc Hen & Chicken Chardonnay, a perfect prelude to dinner at Rae’s Restaurant in the Balgownie complex.
A seat by the window, watching the beautiful light show that is the large tree by the road, was the setting.
Dinner was a mixed bag (in a good way). One starter of squid was simply too much squid and the other of scallops; there were just three on the plate and they were tiny. Both dishes were well cooked, tasty, but the size of the serves deserved more thought.
The wine, on the other hand, was perfectly thought out. While there are plenty of good options on Rae’s wine list, it was no contest: the Balgownie Estate 2004 Chardonnay from the Museum Collection. Sure, it was $85 a bottle, but it sang like Ella Fitzgerald. It was everything I love in a chardonnay … and I really love ‘em.
It sat well with the mains too, which were aged beef, one medium rare and one rare, with some (I reckon) hand-cut spuds and veggies.
The (eye fillet) beef arrived at the table under a plate dome. The reason? They were being smoked with (I think) some grape vine cuttings … and it was a masterstroke. The smokiness had attached itself to the beef … shit it was good … and it was the perfect way to end dinner and a great day.
OK, it wasn’t the end … a couple of cognacs delivered by room service made it just so.
Breakfast at Balgownie is a buffet at Rae’s … and there is almost everything you’d ever want at the ungodly hour that is 9.30 … eggs this way and that, bacon, beans, snags, mushrooms, hash browns … juices of all sorts, teas and coffee of all sorts, bread of all sorts for toast, buns, pastries … OK you get the idea. A table by the window didn’t do any harm either.
It was the second trip to Balgownie. Reckon it won’t be the last.
BUTT OUT
It’s into the third week of not smoking for me. Yeah, I’ve done it before but this time is different.
I went to see Angelo, the hypnotist, and said to him: “Mate, this time is different to the others. I really want it more than ever. I’m ready.”
The treatment (dunno if that’s what you call it) was as I remember it … and I went really deeply into it, to the point of the odd snore/snort probably half a dozen times. I apologised for that when it was over but, according to Angelo, it’s normal for those of us that go really deeply.
As I was leaving, I said to Angelo: “Thanks mate. I never want to see you again.” To which he replied: “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I headed home and did what any new non-smoker would do.
I slammed some ice into a glass and poured a couple of huge belts of bourbon, something I’d normally do with a smoke in my hand.
No problems, I didn’t really feel like a smoke.
Undeterred, I headed to Lina’s wine bar and met up with some friends for a gargle, some of whom were partaking of tobacco.
Again, no problems.
Yeah, there has been the odd time when I’ve had a pang when I’ve been up close and personal with a smoker, but I’m not gonna be broken. And the fifty bucks a week that it was costing is going into a jar every week. I can feel a holiday coming on later in the year.
If you’re keen to get a bit healthy, give Angelo a call … 1300 116 117 … apart from being a bloody good bloke, he’s good at what he does.
CHISEL AND JACK
It’s always a good test for ex-smokers to go to a rock concert … I reckon I always used to enjoy that first one when I stepped outside the venue, ears ringing, still feeling the buzz of the music and the buzz from whatever I’d had to drink during same.
With a few mates, I went to watch Cold Chisel last week at Festival Hall … it was great to see the band again and they were in great form after the first couple of songs where, to me, the mix was a bit muddy.
And what to drink when you’ve got Chisel doing their thing … it’s a can a Jack, I reckon … but sweet mother of Jesus, 10 bucks a can is a bit steep. I remember whingeing about paying ten bucks a can in Vanuatu earlier this year.
But hey, it was Chisel. And great news for the band … Barnesy announced that they would be in London in July, touring with Bruce Springstein.
Maybe that smoke money in the jar will get me a ticket.
After the gig, we (my son Joel and mate Fulvio) headed back to my place for a quiet drink (not for Joel) and a debrief of the night.
Given the Fulv and his wife, Jacinta, married to Warrenmang winery in 1997, I thought it appropriate to open a bottle of Warrenmang Grand Pyrenees 1999.
It was a good decision although not without its moments. The cork decided to break up a bit while making its exit, but some careful and dextrous work by yours truly got it out cleanly and poured the precious liquid into a decanter to give it a breath of fresh air … surprisingly there was no sediment.
Bloody good drink it was, although it changed (OK it seemed to) character several times on the way to the bottom of the decanter … spicy, well-rounded, soft and well balanced.
It was very, very good, probably the best drop of late in a wine list that has included some decent drinking:
Among them Te Kairanga Martinborough Estate Pinto Noir 2009; Roland Masse 2010 Pinot Noir from the Yarra Valley; Camelback 2010 Pinot Noir from Sunbury; and the beautifully named Lethbridge Menage a Noir 2010 Pinot Noir from Geelong. It’s a cracker drink (about 28 bucks at Vintage Cellars).
For me, the bargain … is that best value … dunno, I just like this one. It’s Bourgogne Chardonnay 2010 from the south of Burgundy … it’s the Macon area (I went there many moons ago). The wine is available from Vintage Cellars and at $18 or thereabouts, it’s great drinking.
WHAT A BEER
And speaking of great drinking, reckon I’ve found a beer that’s gonna hard to beat.
Yesterday morning (OK, it was just before noon) I had a taste of three beers at Sword’s wine shop in the South Melbourne Market.
The standout for me was Little Creatures Single Batch The Quiet American in a 568ml bottle. 568ml??? What the hell size is that?
It’s beautifully malty and the hops are huge on the nose … as the brewer says, it’s got a thought-provoking bitterness. I got bundles of green apples on the nose. I grabbed a couple of bottles, one of which I had later in the day after stocking up the freezer with some home-made laksa. (The freezer now has about eight meals of beef and veg casserole, a dozen serves of bolognaise sauce and eight serves of laksa … veg soup will be added today. It’s gonna make those cold winter nights a bit easier.)
A couple of glasses The Quiet American was a beautiful way to see out the afternoon. Seven bucks a bottle, it was worth every cent. Go to this link for a check at what Swords has to offer ... http://www.swordswines.com.au/
A NO-BOUNCE ZONE
And speaking of things glass, it was unfortunate to discover that iPads do not bounce, especially when introduced to a tiled floor. Mind you, the cracks in the glass made a really pretty pattern.
It was $249 to replace the glass. Sheesh.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Slack is as slack does ...
Because I’ve been such a slack unit these past few weeks … OK, that’s not entirely true, I’ve been slack about writing anything for this site ... everything else has been go, go, go … and then some.
Reckon since I last posted I’ve had a lot of dinners, more wines than I can count (I had to write ‘em down), discovered a new but fabulous US beer (yeah, I know that the words fabulous beer and US don’t normally belong in the same sentence), been to a buck’s party that ticked all the boxes, a wedding that ticked all the boxes, cooked some food that even maybe surprised me, jagged tickets to see Cold Chisel, sucked up to one of my editors (yeah, just the two of us working and I made her lunch), totally stuffed my neck, which led to a trip to the physio, which led to a bout of drinking too much too early, seen the hypnotist to stop smoking, proved that even at my age I can still party … to whit, a 5am finish on a Saturday morning and backing up with a 7am the next day (yeah, both those nights involved a drink) … managed a few days in bed with the flu … yep, I has been the full package.
I am planning to expand on some of the comings and goings ... the buck's turn, the wedding, the hypnosis ... that's my target.
Since the last entry on this site, I have managed at home to have a crack at:
Ad Hoc Hen & Chicken Chardonnay 2011 from Pemberton WA. 13%.
Rocland Duck Duck Goose Chardonnay 2009 from SA.
14%
Auldana Reserve non-vintage Sparkling Shiraz 14%
Henschke Tilly’s Vineyard 2010 Semillon Sauvignon Blanc Pinot Gris Riesling Chardonnay 12.5%
Di Giorgio Lucindale Pinot Noir Chardonnay (sparkling) 12.5% from Limestone Coast
Mitcham Estate 2011 Chardonnay 13% McLaren Vale SA
2008 Santa Carolina Chardonnay from Chile (x2)
2010 Provenance Golden Plains Pinot Noir 13.3%
Geelong Chardonnay 2011 cleanskin from Vintage Cellars 13.5%
2004 Clarence Hill Cabernet Sauvignon 14.5%
Kris Pinot Grigio 2010 12.5% from Montagna Italy
La Tour Travers Bordeaux Rose 2010 12% (50% cab sav and merlot)
House of Rabbit 2010 Pinot Noir From Sunbury Ballarat (x3)
Elderton 2004 Barossa Shiraz 14.5%
1882 Reisling
Ass Kisser Vanilla Pale Ale 5.5% (x shitloads … a great beer)
Ingram Pinot Grigio from the Yarra Valley
Te Kairanga 2009 Pinot Noir from Marlborough in NZ. 13.5% (x3)
Roland Masse 2010 Pinot Noir from Yarra Valley
Pepper Tree 2010 Chardonnay 14%
Pepper Tree 2011 Semillon Sauvignon Blanc 11.8%
The Riebke Shiraz 2010 14.5%
Curious Kiwi Sauvignon Blanc 13%
Yeah, that’s a fair list, but it has been supplemented with a few here and there at various establishments, but the winner is:
Torbek 2009 The Struie Shiraz. 15%, rrp about $54
It is everything you’ll ever want in a red apart from the fact that the bottle can be emptied, a sad occurrence when you have just the one.
I shared it with a friend and she is not normally a red drinker … OK, her cheeks glow a bit sometimes when she’s had a couple, but I digress.
She loved it, as did I … it’s a bloody crackerjack drink.
I have just booked a weekend away in the Yarra Valley ... I think it may involve wine.
Reckon since I last posted I’ve had a lot of dinners, more wines than I can count (I had to write ‘em down), discovered a new but fabulous US beer (yeah, I know that the words fabulous beer and US don’t normally belong in the same sentence), been to a buck’s party that ticked all the boxes, a wedding that ticked all the boxes, cooked some food that even maybe surprised me, jagged tickets to see Cold Chisel, sucked up to one of my editors (yeah, just the two of us working and I made her lunch), totally stuffed my neck, which led to a trip to the physio, which led to a bout of drinking too much too early, seen the hypnotist to stop smoking, proved that even at my age I can still party … to whit, a 5am finish on a Saturday morning and backing up with a 7am the next day (yeah, both those nights involved a drink) … managed a few days in bed with the flu … yep, I has been the full package.
I am planning to expand on some of the comings and goings ... the buck's turn, the wedding, the hypnosis ... that's my target.
Since the last entry on this site, I have managed at home to have a crack at:
Ad Hoc Hen & Chicken Chardonnay 2011 from Pemberton WA. 13%.
Rocland Duck Duck Goose Chardonnay 2009 from SA.
14%
Auldana Reserve non-vintage Sparkling Shiraz 14%
Henschke Tilly’s Vineyard 2010 Semillon Sauvignon Blanc Pinot Gris Riesling Chardonnay 12.5%
Di Giorgio Lucindale Pinot Noir Chardonnay (sparkling) 12.5% from Limestone Coast
Mitcham Estate 2011 Chardonnay 13% McLaren Vale SA
2008 Santa Carolina Chardonnay from Chile (x2)
2010 Provenance Golden Plains Pinot Noir 13.3%
Geelong Chardonnay 2011 cleanskin from Vintage Cellars 13.5%
2004 Clarence Hill Cabernet Sauvignon 14.5%
Kris Pinot Grigio 2010 12.5% from Montagna Italy
La Tour Travers Bordeaux Rose 2010 12% (50% cab sav and merlot)
House of Rabbit 2010 Pinot Noir From Sunbury Ballarat (x3)
Elderton 2004 Barossa Shiraz 14.5%
1882 Reisling
Ass Kisser Vanilla Pale Ale 5.5% (x shitloads … a great beer)
Ingram Pinot Grigio from the Yarra Valley
Te Kairanga 2009 Pinot Noir from Marlborough in NZ. 13.5% (x3)
Roland Masse 2010 Pinot Noir from Yarra Valley
Pepper Tree 2010 Chardonnay 14%
Pepper Tree 2011 Semillon Sauvignon Blanc 11.8%
The Riebke Shiraz 2010 14.5%
Curious Kiwi Sauvignon Blanc 13%
Yeah, that’s a fair list, but it has been supplemented with a few here and there at various establishments, but the winner is:
Torbek 2009 The Struie Shiraz. 15%, rrp about $54
It is everything you’ll ever want in a red apart from the fact that the bottle can be emptied, a sad occurrence when you have just the one.
I shared it with a friend and she is not normally a red drinker … OK, her cheeks glow a bit sometimes when she’s had a couple, but I digress.
She loved it, as did I … it’s a bloody crackerjack drink.
I have just booked a weekend away in the Yarra Valley ... I think it may involve wine.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Glory days long gone ... and some decent plonk ... and other stuff
I usually keep a stash of quaffing wine in the kitchen and in the grog fridge, but things have been disappearing at a rate of knots of late. It’s time to stock up again.
So I have dipped into the wine cupboard to keep myself happy of late … and there have been some pleasant surprises.
The biggest surprise was the discovery of another bottle of 2007 Bollini Pinot Grigio Trentino. I’m keeping it for a special occasion. As I wrote on an earlier post, “I’ve seen it described as the “ultimate aperitif wine” … or how about “the fresh, refined style is ideal for frequent, casual consumption”? Frequent? That’s my kind of wine.
It’s fragrant, lively, crisp, fruity, flinty and oh so clean in the mouth. And there’s just enough acid. I reckon it would go well with any sort of food. Without question, for me it was the wine highlight of the week in a week where there were some highlight-worthy beauties on the table.”
The same sentiment still applies … yep plenty of some highlight-worthy beauties.
Among the a 2004 Elderton Shiraz (14.5%), which had a really deep colour, tonnes of fruit on the nose and a bit of a liquorice/peppery thing happening … even vanilla. It was great drinking.
So too the 2011 Waipara Hills Pinot Noir, but the show was stolen by a 2003 Brown Brothers limited release shiraz. I reckon it was a bloody cracker in a week or so where crackers have been on the agenda.
Umani Ronchi Montepulciano 2007 D’Abruzzo was a surprise packet. I read a review of it: “A supple and earthy medium-bodied Italian red that's full of plums, hints of chocolate, nuts and dried herbs and has and attractive slightly floral sting in the tail. Will go superbly well with the Sunday roast, with game. and let's not forget the cheese. Very smart buying." Warren Barton
Because I’m a smoker, my chances of finding all that going on is, well, unlikely … but jeez, I loved it.
There have also been a few chardies around … a 2011 The Seedling from Eden Road, which didn’t quite set my tastebuds on fire … but the fire was burning with a 2010 Camelback chardy from Sunbury. I’d buy it just because of the words across the top of the label … “Man is not a camel”.
The real chardy winner was a 2011 Ad Hoc Hen & Chicken from Pemberton in WA. It’s buttery, nutty, fruity, oaky (plenty but certainly not to its detriment) and a lovely acid balance. I’ll have it again.
I also revisited Domaine Begude 2010 Chardonnay. I wrote a while ago “It’s a bloody cracker, which is my way of saying “Utterly beguiling. Full of flowers, citrus, orchard fruits, and almond, this offers some lushness of texture while remaining bright and refreshing, and displays a shimmering sense of minerality that would be worthy of a Chablis costing three times the price”, which is how Robert Parker’s Bargain Wines Guide 2011 said of the Terroir 11300 chardonnay. It’s available at Vintage Cellars.
It’s all gonna be a hard act to follow. If the next week comes anywhere near the quality of the past couple, then I’ll be one happy camper.
Now, it’s market time and food shopping. I have to take lunch to work tomorrow for EB, my editor at The Weekly Review. Dunno what’s on the menu … guess it’ll be whatever look good.
Glory days are long gone
I started to venture into the wilds of Albert Park in the very late ’80s … somehow I’d managed to find my way there. I was a northern suburbs bloke who had little, OK no, knowledge of the southern suburbs back then.
I used to go there for a Sunday breakfast … a big brekkie was a novelty in the north. OK, a café that did that sort of thing didn’t exist in the north.
The place was called Morning Glory. The food was always good and the coffee was par excellence. It won an award from The Sunday Age as having the best coffee in Melbourne. From memory, I instigated that the judges check it out.
I can even recall being there about 20 years ago and telling a bloke at the next table to put his smoke out … I was in a non-smoking stage. I still talk to him most mornings when I’m wandering up the street, sometimes stopping and to have a smoke with him. Yeah, times change.
The restaurant at the same site claims to be one of the area’s best … specialising in attention to detail and a friendly atmosphere.
Like I said, times change.
I went there with a friend for a late breakfast recently … nothing big planned, just a cuppa and some eggs.
We grabbed a table out the front and ordered a pot of English Breakfast tea, a latte, some water and poached eggs with spinach on the side and a serve of eggs Benedict (on English muffins).
We sat there shooting the breeze for 10 minutes or so (it was a beautiful morning) and finally the waiter appeared again. “Did you get your coffees?”
“Well no, and it was a latte and some tea.”
“Sorry,” he said as he disappeared inside.
Back he came with another sorry. Apparently the paper with the order on it had been lost.
Lost? It’s not that hard, after all, attention to detail is one of the place’s strong points. Yeah, right.
Finally, after a 15-minute wait, we had our drinks.
The latte was as dark as the inside of a dead dog’s guts. It couldn’t have been any stronger. My friend would be bouncing off walls in no time.
And then to the tea. OK, it was fine but the small milk jug left more than a bit to be desired. There were dark smudges around the lip (it needed an up-close-and-personal scrub) and several black bits floating in the milk. Attention to detail?
The food finally made an appearance, but only after the waiter had reappeared earlier to say that the kitchen had run out of muffins. “What sort of toast would you like with that?” I opted for multigrain.
The eggs got a pass mark. Not so the attention to detail. No salt or pepper on the table. My friend asked the waitress who was busily cleaning the next table whether she could have some pepper. It was almost a surly delivery of a pepper grinder, plonked just so on the table, no “sorry about that, there should have been one on the table”. It was almost as if the waitress was doing us a favour.
She went back to cleaning a nearby table, armed with a spray bottle, which probably wasn’t ideal given that there was a bit of wind about. My friend copped the residue of the spray all along her arm. Yep, that’s just what you need, the chance of some chemicals on your food. Attention to detail?
I walked inside (for the first and last time there) to pay the bill, rather than wait for the waiting staff to offer one. In effect, we were the waiters … waiting, waiting …
Golden Fields revisited
There’s a lesson to be learnt for the joint above. They should send all their staff to dine at Golden Fields not just for the great food, but for service that goes above and beyond.
A friend and I had a latish dinner there on Friday. As usual, the place was jumping and we were told that there would probably be a 45-minute wait.
The staff was attentive … constantly getting back to us with updates and organising a seat at the bar (the barman would win an award for politeness) so we could have a pre-dinner drink.
We didn’t feel left out at any stage. Update followed update … just 20 minutes had past when we hit a table out the front (the weather was pleasant). We were settled by the waitress, who said something about my friend being a regular. No so, but it made her feel at home. The waitress said she would get us a menu. “No need,” I said. “We’ll start with lobster rolls, pork dumpling, soft-shell crab and twice-cooked duck … and a bottle of 2010 von Buhl Riesling. We’ll see how we go after that.” No menu, no notes, no need. The waitress knew her stuff.
So too those in the kitchen. I reckon the wine was a cracker with the food (I’ve mentioned it elsewhere on this blog several times).
But it was the staff and the attention to detail. My friend suggested that had it not been for the pleasant demeanour and efficiency of the staff, we would have gone elsewhere, given the possibility of a 45-minute wait. She was right … but it was worth the wait.
Carbon footprint?
Does social media have a conscience? Judging by some figures given to me by my Crikey mate Luke Buckmaster (he of the Crikey film blog Cinetology), the answer is an emphatic no.
To wit … every 60 seconds there are:
2 million YouTube views;
700,000 Facebook messages;
175,000 tweets;
7630 hits on StumbledUpon;
7610 searches on LinkedIn;
3500 hits on TAGGED;
3125 Flikr pictures uploaded;
2000 checkins at FourSquare; and
1090 Pinterest visits.
Think about it: every minute. That amounts to an awful lot of power (courtesy of coal-fired generators, no doubt).
And that’s just the social media sites. Add to that the billions of page hits for other shit on the net.
Is there anyone out there who could extrapolate the figures and work out just how much effect the internet has on global warming? Surely, an academic could snaffle a grant from somewhere.
The son shines
And while on the subject of things involving technology, getting my iPod up to speed was not something I could cope with.
The iPod hadn’t been synched with my new laptop (I had to get a newie because I spilled wine on the keyboard of the old one … See “A byte to drink” elsewhere on the blog) and it was beyond me, given that I’m a Luddite.
I had dinner with Joel, my youngest son, and put it on him to fix it.
“No problem.”
He somehow managed to copy the 11,000-odd songs from the iPod and another 2000-odd from the separate hard drive (see, I know technology terms, just not how it works) and synched them for me.
I owe my whole wireless set-up to Joel … the printer in the office, the router (whatever that does), the home network (whatever that is) … the whole shooting match.
Go Jo-Jo, you’re a gun.
The wrong way to catch a bus
My other son, Liam, he of Vanuatu, has had a rough time of it of late.
The other day he was cruising on a motor scooter through Port Vila at lunchtime.
He was travelling behind a bus and could see another sitting at the kerb. When the bus in front went by the parked one, the driver put on his indicator and pulled a U-turn. Liam saw him coming and hit the anchors. Too late, he T-boned the bus.
He was OK, a bunged up ankle and maybe a broken finger and a cut hand.
“I hope you were wearing a helmet,” I said.
“Shit yeah and lucky I was. I took a big chunk out of it,” he said, “but I’m OK.”
And the scooter? “Yeah, I managed to get myself between it and the bus, so as I gave a hip and shoulder to the duco, the scooter was OK. There’s just a bit of a bend in the handlebar.
“The driver was pretty pissed off. He said ‘didn’t you see I was indicating?’. I explained that indicating didn’t give you the right to charge out into a U-turn.”
“I told him to fuck off after he suggested that he would see me in court.”
Yeah, good luck with that
So I have dipped into the wine cupboard to keep myself happy of late … and there have been some pleasant surprises.
The biggest surprise was the discovery of another bottle of 2007 Bollini Pinot Grigio Trentino. I’m keeping it for a special occasion. As I wrote on an earlier post, “I’ve seen it described as the “ultimate aperitif wine” … or how about “the fresh, refined style is ideal for frequent, casual consumption”? Frequent? That’s my kind of wine.
It’s fragrant, lively, crisp, fruity, flinty and oh so clean in the mouth. And there’s just enough acid. I reckon it would go well with any sort of food. Without question, for me it was the wine highlight of the week in a week where there were some highlight-worthy beauties on the table.”
The same sentiment still applies … yep plenty of some highlight-worthy beauties.
Among the a 2004 Elderton Shiraz (14.5%), which had a really deep colour, tonnes of fruit on the nose and a bit of a liquorice/peppery thing happening … even vanilla. It was great drinking.
So too the 2011 Waipara Hills Pinot Noir, but the show was stolen by a 2003 Brown Brothers limited release shiraz. I reckon it was a bloody cracker in a week or so where crackers have been on the agenda.
Umani Ronchi Montepulciano 2007 D’Abruzzo was a surprise packet. I read a review of it: “A supple and earthy medium-bodied Italian red that's full of plums, hints of chocolate, nuts and dried herbs and has and attractive slightly floral sting in the tail. Will go superbly well with the Sunday roast, with game. and let's not forget the cheese. Very smart buying." Warren Barton
Because I’m a smoker, my chances of finding all that going on is, well, unlikely … but jeez, I loved it.
There have also been a few chardies around … a 2011 The Seedling from Eden Road, which didn’t quite set my tastebuds on fire … but the fire was burning with a 2010 Camelback chardy from Sunbury. I’d buy it just because of the words across the top of the label … “Man is not a camel”.
The real chardy winner was a 2011 Ad Hoc Hen & Chicken from Pemberton in WA. It’s buttery, nutty, fruity, oaky (plenty but certainly not to its detriment) and a lovely acid balance. I’ll have it again.
I also revisited Domaine Begude 2010 Chardonnay. I wrote a while ago “It’s a bloody cracker, which is my way of saying “Utterly beguiling. Full of flowers, citrus, orchard fruits, and almond, this offers some lushness of texture while remaining bright and refreshing, and displays a shimmering sense of minerality that would be worthy of a Chablis costing three times the price”, which is how Robert Parker’s Bargain Wines Guide 2011 said of the Terroir 11300 chardonnay. It’s available at Vintage Cellars.
It’s all gonna be a hard act to follow. If the next week comes anywhere near the quality of the past couple, then I’ll be one happy camper.
Now, it’s market time and food shopping. I have to take lunch to work tomorrow for EB, my editor at The Weekly Review. Dunno what’s on the menu … guess it’ll be whatever look good.
Glory days are long gone
I started to venture into the wilds of Albert Park in the very late ’80s … somehow I’d managed to find my way there. I was a northern suburbs bloke who had little, OK no, knowledge of the southern suburbs back then.
I used to go there for a Sunday breakfast … a big brekkie was a novelty in the north. OK, a café that did that sort of thing didn’t exist in the north.
The place was called Morning Glory. The food was always good and the coffee was par excellence. It won an award from The Sunday Age as having the best coffee in Melbourne. From memory, I instigated that the judges check it out.
I can even recall being there about 20 years ago and telling a bloke at the next table to put his smoke out … I was in a non-smoking stage. I still talk to him most mornings when I’m wandering up the street, sometimes stopping and to have a smoke with him. Yeah, times change.
The restaurant at the same site claims to be one of the area’s best … specialising in attention to detail and a friendly atmosphere.
Like I said, times change.
I went there with a friend for a late breakfast recently … nothing big planned, just a cuppa and some eggs.
We grabbed a table out the front and ordered a pot of English Breakfast tea, a latte, some water and poached eggs with spinach on the side and a serve of eggs Benedict (on English muffins).
We sat there shooting the breeze for 10 minutes or so (it was a beautiful morning) and finally the waiter appeared again. “Did you get your coffees?”
“Well no, and it was a latte and some tea.”
“Sorry,” he said as he disappeared inside.
Back he came with another sorry. Apparently the paper with the order on it had been lost.
Lost? It’s not that hard, after all, attention to detail is one of the place’s strong points. Yeah, right.
Finally, after a 15-minute wait, we had our drinks.
The latte was as dark as the inside of a dead dog’s guts. It couldn’t have been any stronger. My friend would be bouncing off walls in no time.
And then to the tea. OK, it was fine but the small milk jug left more than a bit to be desired. There were dark smudges around the lip (it needed an up-close-and-personal scrub) and several black bits floating in the milk. Attention to detail?
The food finally made an appearance, but only after the waiter had reappeared earlier to say that the kitchen had run out of muffins. “What sort of toast would you like with that?” I opted for multigrain.
The eggs got a pass mark. Not so the attention to detail. No salt or pepper on the table. My friend asked the waitress who was busily cleaning the next table whether she could have some pepper. It was almost a surly delivery of a pepper grinder, plonked just so on the table, no “sorry about that, there should have been one on the table”. It was almost as if the waitress was doing us a favour.
She went back to cleaning a nearby table, armed with a spray bottle, which probably wasn’t ideal given that there was a bit of wind about. My friend copped the residue of the spray all along her arm. Yep, that’s just what you need, the chance of some chemicals on your food. Attention to detail?
I walked inside (for the first and last time there) to pay the bill, rather than wait for the waiting staff to offer one. In effect, we were the waiters … waiting, waiting …
Golden Fields revisited
There’s a lesson to be learnt for the joint above. They should send all their staff to dine at Golden Fields not just for the great food, but for service that goes above and beyond.
A friend and I had a latish dinner there on Friday. As usual, the place was jumping and we were told that there would probably be a 45-minute wait.
The staff was attentive … constantly getting back to us with updates and organising a seat at the bar (the barman would win an award for politeness) so we could have a pre-dinner drink.
We didn’t feel left out at any stage. Update followed update … just 20 minutes had past when we hit a table out the front (the weather was pleasant). We were settled by the waitress, who said something about my friend being a regular. No so, but it made her feel at home. The waitress said she would get us a menu. “No need,” I said. “We’ll start with lobster rolls, pork dumpling, soft-shell crab and twice-cooked duck … and a bottle of 2010 von Buhl Riesling. We’ll see how we go after that.” No menu, no notes, no need. The waitress knew her stuff.
So too those in the kitchen. I reckon the wine was a cracker with the food (I’ve mentioned it elsewhere on this blog several times).
But it was the staff and the attention to detail. My friend suggested that had it not been for the pleasant demeanour and efficiency of the staff, we would have gone elsewhere, given the possibility of a 45-minute wait. She was right … but it was worth the wait.
Carbon footprint?
Does social media have a conscience? Judging by some figures given to me by my Crikey mate Luke Buckmaster (he of the Crikey film blog Cinetology), the answer is an emphatic no.
To wit … every 60 seconds there are:
2 million YouTube views;
700,000 Facebook messages;
175,000 tweets;
7630 hits on StumbledUpon;
7610 searches on LinkedIn;
3500 hits on TAGGED;
3125 Flikr pictures uploaded;
2000 checkins at FourSquare; and
1090 Pinterest visits.
Think about it: every minute. That amounts to an awful lot of power (courtesy of coal-fired generators, no doubt).
And that’s just the social media sites. Add to that the billions of page hits for other shit on the net.
Is there anyone out there who could extrapolate the figures and work out just how much effect the internet has on global warming? Surely, an academic could snaffle a grant from somewhere.
The son shines
And while on the subject of things involving technology, getting my iPod up to speed was not something I could cope with.
The iPod hadn’t been synched with my new laptop (I had to get a newie because I spilled wine on the keyboard of the old one … See “A byte to drink” elsewhere on the blog) and it was beyond me, given that I’m a Luddite.
I had dinner with Joel, my youngest son, and put it on him to fix it.
“No problem.”
He somehow managed to copy the 11,000-odd songs from the iPod and another 2000-odd from the separate hard drive (see, I know technology terms, just not how it works) and synched them for me.
I owe my whole wireless set-up to Joel … the printer in the office, the router (whatever that does), the home network (whatever that is) … the whole shooting match.
Go Jo-Jo, you’re a gun.
The wrong way to catch a bus
My other son, Liam, he of Vanuatu, has had a rough time of it of late.
The other day he was cruising on a motor scooter through Port Vila at lunchtime.
He was travelling behind a bus and could see another sitting at the kerb. When the bus in front went by the parked one, the driver put on his indicator and pulled a U-turn. Liam saw him coming and hit the anchors. Too late, he T-boned the bus.
He was OK, a bunged up ankle and maybe a broken finger and a cut hand.
“I hope you were wearing a helmet,” I said.
“Shit yeah and lucky I was. I took a big chunk out of it,” he said, “but I’m OK.”
And the scooter? “Yeah, I managed to get myself between it and the bus, so as I gave a hip and shoulder to the duco, the scooter was OK. There’s just a bit of a bend in the handlebar.
“The driver was pretty pissed off. He said ‘didn’t you see I was indicating?’. I explained that indicating didn’t give you the right to charge out into a U-turn.”
“I told him to fuck off after he suggested that he would see me in court.”
Yeah, good luck with that
Thursday, March 8, 2012
It’s easy being green
For several weeks now I’ve been eyeing off the sometimes hard-to-get ingredients … green mangos and green pawpaws among them … at my usual fruit and veg bloke at the market.
At the weekend, I thought damn it; it’s time to make a green mango salad with prawns for dinner. I checked the pantry to make sure I had the ingredients … OK, I’d run out of fish sauce, sesame oil and fresh garlic … so I made a list … Thai basil, Vietnamese mint, rice noodles, bean shoots, limes, roasted peanuts, coriander and tiger prawns … oh, and a green mango or two. Done.
I wandered around the fruit shop gathering the goodies, but bugger me, no green mangos or pawpaws for that matter.
I got to the checkout and the bloke said: “Back again.” Yep. “Have you got any green mangos?” I asked, figuring that because there were plenty of ripe mangos of varying quality dotted around the shop, he’d say yeah, over there or something like that. “Season’s over,” he said. Bugger.
Off I went to the last-chance saloon … aka the Chinese grocery, where I’m a regular. “Got any green mangos?”
“Sorry, no more but we have green pawpaws.” Done. It was gonna be the sort of recipe that I’d make up as I went along anyway.
I got all I needed and made a beeline to Swords wine shop to see if the new chardonnay and pinot noir had made an appearance.
“Not yet, they’re still in the warehouse.”
Sheesh.
I was keen to reacquaint myself with both after David, the manager, had gifted me a bottle of each to try.
The pinot, under Swords’ label The House of Rabbit, is a very drinkable wine (aren’t they all?) from up Sunbury way.
The label says cherries, plums and brambles on the nose. I get it with the cherries and plums, but does anyone know what brambles smell like? I’ll take their word for it. For me there was also a chocolate and oaky thing happening. There’s acidity enough (it’s 12.5 per cent alcohol) and soft tannins (I like that) to round it out. I seem to remember that it’ll be a sub-20 buck wine, something I’d happily pay again and again.
The chardy? A review for another day.
I had a chat with Dave about what would go well with my green pawpaw salad and riesling won the day.
Given the option of dry or something with a bit of fruity sweetness, I went for sweet … 2008 Rockface Riesling from Waipara Valley across the ditch in New Zealand.
I bought the prawns (I asked for eight because they were a decent size) and the market was done … OK, I bought a new wok on the way out.
Seasoning the wok (it’s a steel wok, not one of those new-fangled non-stick things) was easy. A thorough scrub with warm veg oil and a scourer, and then it was onto the stove to heat it until the oil started to smoke. (I rolled one at this stage, so I smoked too). Turn off the heat, let it cool and then fire it up again. Three times is enough to be ready to wok’n’roll (yeah, piss-weak joke, I know).
Hunger started to kick in after watching the rugby league season opener … go Storm, who made hard work of putting away the Canberra Raiders.
First up I made the dressing … fresh lime juice, fish sauce, vegetable oil, palm sugar, chilli (reckon I put a tad too much. No matter.), garlic and black pepper. It’s wise to taste as you build. My only change was a touch more lime juice. I also deep-fried some garlic chips.
To ready the pawpaw, I peeled it and then hacked into it with a cleaver, each cut as close to the last as I could manage. Then I used a vegetable peeler to cut away the shreds. Too easy.
While the prawns (I got 12) were cooking in the garlic chip oil with chilli, I assembled the salad.
Pawpaw, some rice noodles (soaked in boiling water), bean shoots, garlic chips, Vietnamese mint, Thai basil, coriander, roughly crushed roasted peanuts and deep-fried shallots. Again, too easy.
When the prawns were ready, in they went followed by the dressing. A good toss (a lot of people reckon I’m a tosser anyway) and it was show time.
Bloody go show it was, too. I held back on the riesling while I was eating … the chilli was a bit heavy-handed and wasn’t doing the wine any favours.
When my tastebuds had settled, I had a decent crack at the riesling, a medium-bodied wine that had some citrus up front and for my liking, just a little too much in the way of sweetness, which wasn’t really such a bad thing after the chilli assault. It’s a pleasant enough drink, but not one that I’d rush to try again. Maybe it would work well with a cheese board or even with a dessert.
Given there’s a couple of pieces of eye fillet in the fridge, I may double up with a green pawpaw and rare beef salad in a couple of days. Sounds like a plan.
At the weekend, I thought damn it; it’s time to make a green mango salad with prawns for dinner. I checked the pantry to make sure I had the ingredients … OK, I’d run out of fish sauce, sesame oil and fresh garlic … so I made a list … Thai basil, Vietnamese mint, rice noodles, bean shoots, limes, roasted peanuts, coriander and tiger prawns … oh, and a green mango or two. Done.
I wandered around the fruit shop gathering the goodies, but bugger me, no green mangos or pawpaws for that matter.
I got to the checkout and the bloke said: “Back again.” Yep. “Have you got any green mangos?” I asked, figuring that because there were plenty of ripe mangos of varying quality dotted around the shop, he’d say yeah, over there or something like that. “Season’s over,” he said. Bugger.
Off I went to the last-chance saloon … aka the Chinese grocery, where I’m a regular. “Got any green mangos?”
“Sorry, no more but we have green pawpaws.” Done. It was gonna be the sort of recipe that I’d make up as I went along anyway.
I got all I needed and made a beeline to Swords wine shop to see if the new chardonnay and pinot noir had made an appearance.
“Not yet, they’re still in the warehouse.”
Sheesh.
I was keen to reacquaint myself with both after David, the manager, had gifted me a bottle of each to try.
The pinot, under Swords’ label The House of Rabbit, is a very drinkable wine (aren’t they all?) from up Sunbury way.
The label says cherries, plums and brambles on the nose. I get it with the cherries and plums, but does anyone know what brambles smell like? I’ll take their word for it. For me there was also a chocolate and oaky thing happening. There’s acidity enough (it’s 12.5 per cent alcohol) and soft tannins (I like that) to round it out. I seem to remember that it’ll be a sub-20 buck wine, something I’d happily pay again and again.
The chardy? A review for another day.
I had a chat with Dave about what would go well with my green pawpaw salad and riesling won the day.
Given the option of dry or something with a bit of fruity sweetness, I went for sweet … 2008 Rockface Riesling from Waipara Valley across the ditch in New Zealand.
I bought the prawns (I asked for eight because they were a decent size) and the market was done … OK, I bought a new wok on the way out.
Seasoning the wok (it’s a steel wok, not one of those new-fangled non-stick things) was easy. A thorough scrub with warm veg oil and a scourer, and then it was onto the stove to heat it until the oil started to smoke. (I rolled one at this stage, so I smoked too). Turn off the heat, let it cool and then fire it up again. Three times is enough to be ready to wok’n’roll (yeah, piss-weak joke, I know).
Hunger started to kick in after watching the rugby league season opener … go Storm, who made hard work of putting away the Canberra Raiders.
First up I made the dressing … fresh lime juice, fish sauce, vegetable oil, palm sugar, chilli (reckon I put a tad too much. No matter.), garlic and black pepper. It’s wise to taste as you build. My only change was a touch more lime juice. I also deep-fried some garlic chips.
To ready the pawpaw, I peeled it and then hacked into it with a cleaver, each cut as close to the last as I could manage. Then I used a vegetable peeler to cut away the shreds. Too easy.
While the prawns (I got 12) were cooking in the garlic chip oil with chilli, I assembled the salad.
Pawpaw, some rice noodles (soaked in boiling water), bean shoots, garlic chips, Vietnamese mint, Thai basil, coriander, roughly crushed roasted peanuts and deep-fried shallots. Again, too easy.
When the prawns were ready, in they went followed by the dressing. A good toss (a lot of people reckon I’m a tosser anyway) and it was show time.
Bloody go show it was, too. I held back on the riesling while I was eating … the chilli was a bit heavy-handed and wasn’t doing the wine any favours.
When my tastebuds had settled, I had a decent crack at the riesling, a medium-bodied wine that had some citrus up front and for my liking, just a little too much in the way of sweetness, which wasn’t really such a bad thing after the chilli assault. It’s a pleasant enough drink, but not one that I’d rush to try again. Maybe it would work well with a cheese board or even with a dessert.
Given there’s a couple of pieces of eye fillet in the fridge, I may double up with a green pawpaw and rare beef salad in a couple of days. Sounds like a plan.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Hair, an eight-minute pasta wonder and the wonder of wine
My blog Mick on the Road (there’s a link just down the page a bit on the right) was compiled during 10 months on the road. The trip ended about two years ago and I’ve added nothing to it since … but still, it seems, it has regular readers every day.
I reread the whole thing a week or so ago and relived the trip, and the bloody good time it was.
Same thing applies to this blog. It’s still getting plenty of page hits daily despite me pulling the pin on it a couple of weeks ago. It’s heading towards 10,000 hits.
So I reckoned, bugger it, let’s get back on the horse.
I was gonna detail my Landcruiser ute today and put it on the interweb thing to try and sell it (anyone wanna buy a good Landcruiser? …an ’05 version that has done just 110,000 kilometres).
Anyway, rain won the order of the day … no car cleaning … and rather than immerse myself in housework (OK, I’ll do it later), I thought, bugger it, let’s blog.
I mean, there’s been some good times and great rock’n’roll since I last put pen to paper ... and the odd breakthrough.
Talking of same, the world of haircuts is, for me, a real breakthrough. After having two haircuts in 3½ years … yeah, there’s still the urge to retain my ’60s hippie roots (hair that is, not any of the women I met way back then) … I’ve been to the hairdresser twice in six weeks.
I’ve been going to the same bloke since 1975 and although he was never gonna get rich with me as a customer, we’re still good mates. He is, however, hard to nail down … he doesn’t work on Friday afternoons, which is the only time I’m free from work.
He will hang around for me though, if I bring wine.
Yep, blackmailed by the hairdresser.
I arrived at his joint last weekend and he bolted out the front door as I parked the car. “Did you bring wine?” was the offering, not a how are you or whatever.
“Yeah, there’s wine.”
“OK, roll me a smoke (he never has any) and I’ll get some glasses. Then we’ll cut the hair.”
The wine was a 2009 Les Nuages Touraine Sauvignon Blanc from Loire and it got the hairdresser’s nod of approval. As it should.
On the nose, it’s got nothing of the huge sav blanc aroma of the Kiwi kind (some of them are like using smelling salts). This is pretty laid back, a little bit spicy and with a bit of fruit. It’s actually really fresh in the mouth.
“This is better than the wine you brought a few weeks ago,” he said as he poured his second glass (just the one for me, I’m driving).
Yeah, right.
As he poured his third, he said: “I don’t think we’ll do the colour thing (yeah, I hide the greys … OK, I found a dark on the other day. Sure, it’s a vanity thing). I reckon it’s OK.”
Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.
“Listen, you will do the colour thing. You just want to piss off and drink with your friends, that’s why you don’t want to do it.”
“You know me well,” he said. “Well do the colour thing. Now roll me a smoke while I mix up some stuff.”
OK, it’s cut and coloured. All he needs to do is some thin plaits to tidy up the rat’s tail he’s left at the back (yeah I asked for it).
“I don’t do plaits.”
“OK.” I was heading to the market later to buy some food … there’s a hairdresser there. Someone there will do it. And they did.
“See you in six weeks. And don’t forget to bring wine.”
Done. That’ll be the day before my friend Andrew’s wedding, so, for once, I’ve got the timing right on something.
BEER THERE, DONE THAT
Reckon I’ve been off the hops (apart from the occasional one) for about 10 months now. It’s all about the weight thing. Seems every time I have a beer, it sticks to me, so in those 10 months I’ve managed to drop nine kilograms. So it’s bye bye beer.
Mind, I was in Swords wine shop recently to see if the new chardonnay had arrived. It hadn’t. I had my usual chat with Dave, who runs the place, and was just about to leave when I spied some La Trappe Dubbel Trappistenbier.
“What’s the deal with that, mate? Is it a good drop?”
Sensational was Dave’s verdict.
“Righto,” I said, “I’ll have one.” Given that it is 20 bucks for one longneck, one was enough … but it was stinkin’ hot and it was to be a treat. And the glass (reckon it pings like crystal) was included in the price.
And what a treat.
It’s a deep red-brown Trappist beer and smells of caramel malt, and is a tad (how much officially is a tad? sweet. The head is thicker than an English soccer hooligan. It’s 7 per cent alcohol, which means that one longneck really is enough. The recommended pouring temperature is 10-14º. Dunno what mine was when I cracked it, other than bloody brilliant.
Reckon if summer somehow manages to re-manifest itself in Melbourne, I’ll have another.
By the by, longnecks are known as king browns in the bush, something I learnt while I was on the road.
So there.
EIGHT MINUTES TO GLORY
I was watching Anthony Bourdain the other night. He was in Rome and doing his food thing. That’s why I watch, I guess.
Anyway, he was served a pasta dish (yeah, OK, it was Rome) that is going to be a regular on my menu for several reasons … it’s quick, simple, tasty and there’s bugger all washing up to do.
I boiled (in well-salted water) enough spaghetti for one and while that was doing its thing, I melted a stick of butter (not margarine please, this is about flavour) and lobbed a handful of ground black pepper into it. Then I grated about a cup (or thereabouts) of 36-month aged Parmigiano Reggiano. I tossed the spag into the butter, coated it and then stirred through the cheese. Dinner was done and dusted. And let me tell you, it doesn’t get a lot easier or tastier for that matter.
AND OTHER STUFF
I managed for, I reckon, the fifth or sixth time to have a degustation dinner at Eis, my favourite Japanese restaurant.
It’s still great value … eight courses and five wines (it’s now $120 a head.
A starter of a fresh oyster shot with mint vodka, sliced chilli and wasabi tobiko, some ocean trout carpaccio with basil pesto and a glass of Louis Boillot Champagne from Bourgogne.
While starters don’t get a lot better, the beef tartare that followed was close.
The quality didn’t wane … but I reckon that’s it for the degustation. The menu has changed just once (from memory) and, while it’s not tired or anything, next time I’m there I’ll be ordering from the menu.
As for fruit of the vine, there have been many and varied being popped at my joint of late.
To wit, Domaine Begude2010 Chardonnay. It’s a bloody cracker, which is my way of saying “Utterly beguiling. Full of flowers, citrus, orchard fruits, and almond, this offers some lushness of texture while remaining bright and refreshing, and displays a shimmering sense of minerality that would be worthy of a Chablis costing three times the price”, which is how Robert Parker’s Bargain Wines Guide 2011 said of the Terroir 11300 chardonnay. It’s available at Vintage Cellars.
Oh, and there was a Spaniard in the works, too. Bajondillo Mentrida Toledo tempranillo/merlot . It’s the sort of wine you could drink with anything … or nothing. I loved it.
As I did the Jim Barry 2006 First Eleven Cabernet Sauvignon. Being the cricket tragic that I am, I’ll try any drink that links to the great game. This cabernet would get a game in my first eleven.
Maybe 12th man (and not because it’s out of form) in my team would be Wild Rock Cupid’s Arrow 2009 pinot noir. I’ve been having a real crack at pinot and I’d probably have a go at this again. It’s fruity and herby, although the 14.5 alcohol (for me) was a bit on the sharp side.
During the absence of blogging, there have been a few other wines that have passed my lips. I used to keep a list of what I drank but gave it up with the blogging.
OK, it’s back to making lists ... and blogging.
Now it's off to the market to get some ingredients to make a green mango salad.
Cheers.
I reread the whole thing a week or so ago and relived the trip, and the bloody good time it was.
Same thing applies to this blog. It’s still getting plenty of page hits daily despite me pulling the pin on it a couple of weeks ago. It’s heading towards 10,000 hits.
So I reckoned, bugger it, let’s get back on the horse.
I was gonna detail my Landcruiser ute today and put it on the interweb thing to try and sell it (anyone wanna buy a good Landcruiser? …an ’05 version that has done just 110,000 kilometres).
Anyway, rain won the order of the day … no car cleaning … and rather than immerse myself in housework (OK, I’ll do it later), I thought, bugger it, let’s blog.
I mean, there’s been some good times and great rock’n’roll since I last put pen to paper ... and the odd breakthrough.
Talking of same, the world of haircuts is, for me, a real breakthrough. After having two haircuts in 3½ years … yeah, there’s still the urge to retain my ’60s hippie roots (hair that is, not any of the women I met way back then) … I’ve been to the hairdresser twice in six weeks.
I’ve been going to the same bloke since 1975 and although he was never gonna get rich with me as a customer, we’re still good mates. He is, however, hard to nail down … he doesn’t work on Friday afternoons, which is the only time I’m free from work.
He will hang around for me though, if I bring wine.
Yep, blackmailed by the hairdresser.
I arrived at his joint last weekend and he bolted out the front door as I parked the car. “Did you bring wine?” was the offering, not a how are you or whatever.
“Yeah, there’s wine.”
“OK, roll me a smoke (he never has any) and I’ll get some glasses. Then we’ll cut the hair.”
The wine was a 2009 Les Nuages Touraine Sauvignon Blanc from Loire and it got the hairdresser’s nod of approval. As it should.
On the nose, it’s got nothing of the huge sav blanc aroma of the Kiwi kind (some of them are like using smelling salts). This is pretty laid back, a little bit spicy and with a bit of fruit. It’s actually really fresh in the mouth.
“This is better than the wine you brought a few weeks ago,” he said as he poured his second glass (just the one for me, I’m driving).
Yeah, right.
As he poured his third, he said: “I don’t think we’ll do the colour thing (yeah, I hide the greys … OK, I found a dark on the other day. Sure, it’s a vanity thing). I reckon it’s OK.”
Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.
“Listen, you will do the colour thing. You just want to piss off and drink with your friends, that’s why you don’t want to do it.”
“You know me well,” he said. “Well do the colour thing. Now roll me a smoke while I mix up some stuff.”
OK, it’s cut and coloured. All he needs to do is some thin plaits to tidy up the rat’s tail he’s left at the back (yeah I asked for it).
“I don’t do plaits.”
“OK.” I was heading to the market later to buy some food … there’s a hairdresser there. Someone there will do it. And they did.
“See you in six weeks. And don’t forget to bring wine.”
Done. That’ll be the day before my friend Andrew’s wedding, so, for once, I’ve got the timing right on something.
BEER THERE, DONE THAT
Reckon I’ve been off the hops (apart from the occasional one) for about 10 months now. It’s all about the weight thing. Seems every time I have a beer, it sticks to me, so in those 10 months I’ve managed to drop nine kilograms. So it’s bye bye beer.
Mind, I was in Swords wine shop recently to see if the new chardonnay had arrived. It hadn’t. I had my usual chat with Dave, who runs the place, and was just about to leave when I spied some La Trappe Dubbel Trappistenbier.
“What’s the deal with that, mate? Is it a good drop?”
Sensational was Dave’s verdict.
“Righto,” I said, “I’ll have one.” Given that it is 20 bucks for one longneck, one was enough … but it was stinkin’ hot and it was to be a treat. And the glass (reckon it pings like crystal) was included in the price.
And what a treat.
It’s a deep red-brown Trappist beer and smells of caramel malt, and is a tad (how much officially is a tad? sweet. The head is thicker than an English soccer hooligan. It’s 7 per cent alcohol, which means that one longneck really is enough. The recommended pouring temperature is 10-14º. Dunno what mine was when I cracked it, other than bloody brilliant.
Reckon if summer somehow manages to re-manifest itself in Melbourne, I’ll have another.
By the by, longnecks are known as king browns in the bush, something I learnt while I was on the road.
So there.
EIGHT MINUTES TO GLORY
I was watching Anthony Bourdain the other night. He was in Rome and doing his food thing. That’s why I watch, I guess.
Anyway, he was served a pasta dish (yeah, OK, it was Rome) that is going to be a regular on my menu for several reasons … it’s quick, simple, tasty and there’s bugger all washing up to do.
I boiled (in well-salted water) enough spaghetti for one and while that was doing its thing, I melted a stick of butter (not margarine please, this is about flavour) and lobbed a handful of ground black pepper into it. Then I grated about a cup (or thereabouts) of 36-month aged Parmigiano Reggiano. I tossed the spag into the butter, coated it and then stirred through the cheese. Dinner was done and dusted. And let me tell you, it doesn’t get a lot easier or tastier for that matter.
AND OTHER STUFF
I managed for, I reckon, the fifth or sixth time to have a degustation dinner at Eis, my favourite Japanese restaurant.
It’s still great value … eight courses and five wines (it’s now $120 a head.
A starter of a fresh oyster shot with mint vodka, sliced chilli and wasabi tobiko, some ocean trout carpaccio with basil pesto and a glass of Louis Boillot Champagne from Bourgogne.
While starters don’t get a lot better, the beef tartare that followed was close.
The quality didn’t wane … but I reckon that’s it for the degustation. The menu has changed just once (from memory) and, while it’s not tired or anything, next time I’m there I’ll be ordering from the menu.
As for fruit of the vine, there have been many and varied being popped at my joint of late.
To wit, Domaine Begude2010 Chardonnay. It’s a bloody cracker, which is my way of saying “Utterly beguiling. Full of flowers, citrus, orchard fruits, and almond, this offers some lushness of texture while remaining bright and refreshing, and displays a shimmering sense of minerality that would be worthy of a Chablis costing three times the price”, which is how Robert Parker’s Bargain Wines Guide 2011 said of the Terroir 11300 chardonnay. It’s available at Vintage Cellars.
Oh, and there was a Spaniard in the works, too. Bajondillo Mentrida Toledo tempranillo/merlot . It’s the sort of wine you could drink with anything … or nothing. I loved it.
As I did the Jim Barry 2006 First Eleven Cabernet Sauvignon. Being the cricket tragic that I am, I’ll try any drink that links to the great game. This cabernet would get a game in my first eleven.
Maybe 12th man (and not because it’s out of form) in my team would be Wild Rock Cupid’s Arrow 2009 pinot noir. I’ve been having a real crack at pinot and I’d probably have a go at this again. It’s fruity and herby, although the 14.5 alcohol (for me) was a bit on the sharp side.
During the absence of blogging, there have been a few other wines that have passed my lips. I used to keep a list of what I drank but gave it up with the blogging.
OK, it’s back to making lists ... and blogging.
Now it's off to the market to get some ingredients to make a green mango salad.
Cheers.
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