27 July, 2014

Meditation on Passionfruit

used to be plump and glossy but his mackintosh has shrunk as he sucks in his cheeks while somewhere inside the room he is giving you the pip with a wonderfully sour sweetness like last year caught in a daydream, the tang of paradise. by Chris Wallace-Crabbe   Walking along the sand past The Boathouse … Continue reading →
9 July, 2014

Cordon True Blue?

The Aboriginal flag was flying high last Sunday on Bare Island, La Perouse, at the beginning of NAIDOC (National Aborigines and Islanders Day Observance Committee) week. A brisk westerly wind ensured it remained completely extended throughout the day, a fitting tribute to the Aboriginal market and workshops taking place on the rugged island below. As … Continue reading →
28 June, 2014

A Surreal Banquet

“For there is an aspect of cruelty in eating, nourishing one life at the expense of another. It is an aspect usually avoided – the crudeness of a slab of blood-red meat is disguised by cooking it, camouflaging it with sauces and garnishes.” - Barbara Santich, Looking for Flavour (Wakefield Press 1996) It was the … Continue reading →
15 June, 2014

Meditation on Pomegranates

If you buy a pomegranate, buy one whose ripeness has caused it to be cleft open with a seed-revealing smile. Its laughter is a blessing, for through its wide-open mouth it shows its heart, like a pearl in the jewel box of spirit. The red anemone laughs, too, but through its mouth you glimpse a … Continue reading →
5 June, 2014

July School Holiday Kids Cooking Classes

Hurry, hurry: don’t forget to book the kids in to my Mini Chef kids cooking classes during the July school holidays commencing Thursday July 3rd 10.30am – 1.30pm. My kids’ cooking classes aim to teach children to prepare a wholesome, nutritious meal which they love to eat and can reproduce easily at home.  Menus and … Continue reading →
15 May, 2014

Meditation on Quinces

It had a cloak of ash-coloured down hovering over its smooth golden body, and when it lay naked in my hand, with nothing more than its daffodil-coloured shift, it made me think of her I cannot mention, and I feared the ardour of my breath would shrivel it in my fingers. Isn’t that Aphrodite’s apple? … Continue reading →
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