Le tour

Early last July I blogged about watching the Tour de France. This little essay was posted early in the tour, well before Cadel's triumph. The blog June initiative had inspired me to keep on blogging, if more sporadically than during the month of June.

So it seems fitting that the last day of blog June 2012 should coincide with the start of this year's tour. We've just watched the special documentary One Sunday in Paris; delighted in Gabriel Gaté's Taste le tour in Liège (Belgian waffles and potato salad with mussels); and are now settling in by the fire for the first stage.

The time trial is underway. Only two and a half hours to wait until last year's yellow jersey winner makes his appearance. It seems that Cadel will not be wearing yellow in the traditional way, due to a change of sponsors. Never mind. We hope to see him wearing yellow again in three weeks time, on the streets of Paris.

Earlier today we went for a stroll in Balwyn's beautiful Maranoa Gardens. In the middle of winter there are not too many flowers on display, but this beautiful golden wattle brightened up a cold afternoon. An appropriate colour for celebrating Cadel's triumphant return to Le tour.

Wattle, Maranoa Gardens

Finally, thank you to all the June bloggers for your dedication to the challenge and for your inspirational writings. It's been such a pleasure getting to know you better, and I hope we can keep in touch.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Village people

Today we visited my aunty in the retirement village in Forest Hill in order to return a book to another aunty from Adelaide who was paying a visit after visiting yet another of my aunties in Warrnambool. I found the book in question in a bookcase during a cleanout a few years ago. It was inscribed by my grandmother with her name, address and the date (1949). Inside the book was a little mothers' day gift card inscribed by her daughter, my Adelaide aunty.

The book is Marjorie Lawrence's autobiography. My Adelaide aunty had no recollection of giving this gift to her mother all those years ago, but still remembers many fascinating details of her childhood and youth. She is looking forward to reading the long lost book.

On driving into the village we narrowly avoided skittling a lady who decided to wander across the road in front of us without first checking if a car was approaching. Perhaps this lady was still recovering from yesterday's monthly happy hour, in which the village people get to enjoy unlimited beer, wine and nibbles for $4.00 a head. My aunty who lives in the village thinks this is an absolute disgrace, as the price was recently bumped up from $2.00.

Mr 30 and Mr 27 are very keen on catching up with their great aunty and grandmother respectively at the next village people happy hour.

Op shop bounty

On the way to the village we detoured via the Wattle Park op shop to drop off a few bags of offerings, emerging with only a lavender leather handbag, a tiny red velour jumpsuit and a purple satin dress. Quite restrained really.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Discovery night #2

Tonight's discovery dinner was at Shintaro in the Middle Camberwell shopping strip. Although this restaurant has been around for many years and I have walked past it countless times on the way to the shops, I've never been there before.

It is situated in the former State Bank building (does anybody remember the State Bank, formerly known as the State Savings Bank of Victoria?). This makes it a very solid and secure location with a lofty ceiling which allows for some creative decoration.

 

A couple of us detoured to Safeway for some sparkling wine and Asahi, then retraced our steps to the restaurant where food selection was well under way. We left the choice of dishes to Mr 30, who excelled himself with a selection of wakame sarada (seaweed salad); tempura; tofu karai (tofu and vegetables with a spicy sauce); fukuoka buta (braised pork and vegetables with a light sauce) and the special jungle king prawns with a home-made sweet chilli sauce.

The wonderful thing about this unassuming neighbourhood restaurant (apart from the food) is the beautiful service and atmosphere.

We had a very special night and rounded it off in front of the fire and the footy show at home with our dear friends and family.

Posted with Blogsy

Banana cake

Tonight at printing we were treated to another recipe from the Edmonds Cookery Book - banana cake.

The master printer's version looked perfect and tasted delicious. As there were only three of us in attendance at the Ancora Press tonight (one of our number being stuck outside Richmond station on a Pakenham train which was in turn stuck behind a V/line train), we decided to call stumps before 7.30, to give us more time to enjoy the cake and a cup of tea.

Consequently I set only a few lines tonight - the completion of last week's discursion on Manius Aquillius and the start of a new extract about avoiding the foul air of London by taking a train to Windsor.

A discussion of the Edmonds banana cake recipe is available on the Edmonds challenge blog. Here is a picture of Brian's delicious cake and its lovely old fashioned tin.

 

St Silas Sundays

Today's outing was to St Silas Anglican Church in Albert Park for 'St Silas Sundays', a concert by the woodwind students of the Australian National Academy of Music. We were driven to South Melbourne by Mr 30, who decided we should be dropped off at the Rising Sun Hotel (the scene of yesterday's 'Riser to Riser' event) for a quick beer and chips before the concert.

A brisk walk through the gracious tree-lined streets of South Melbourne and Albert Park saw us arriving at St Silas just before the kickoff.

The program consisted of three pieces: Mozart's Serenade in E flat major, K375; Nielsen's Wind quintet Op. 43; and Richard Strauss's Suite in B flat major, Op. 4.

All three pieces were lovely and beautifully played. The Mozart was nice and familiar and reassuring, and the Nielsen allowed the individual character of the instruments to shine through. I found the Strauss with its larger (13 piece) ensemble including the sonorous contrabassoon to be the more complex and interesting piece.

Thanks to Philip Lambert, the Librarian of the Australian National Academy of Music, for his helpful program notes.

A visit to St Silas is interesting in its own right. The church was sliced in half in the 1960s to create a hall below and the church above. With the assimilation of the Middle Park parish of St Anselm in 2001 to form the 'Anglican Parish of the Parks', many of the artefacts of St Anselm's church were incorporated into St Silas. Thus the building has a mix of styles and decorations, but is obviously a much loved hub of the community.

The church has a small memorial garden and some nice plantings in its compact grounds. This beautiful Geraldton wax near the Bridport Street entrance seems to hint that spring is not too far away.

 

Saturday

Although I'm not even working at present, I still love Saturday sleep-ins. After a particularly committed effort this morning, it was eventually time to get up and make the day happen.

Revived by a glass of orange juice and a shower we walked to the local shops for food supplies. For a nice change there was nothing to get from the supermarket, so we only needed to visit the deli and the fruit and veggie shop. We lingered at the Conti deli for a pot of tea and a cup of coffee - the first time I've ever joined the throng of local families having breakfast, lunch or coffee rather than just ducking in to grab some bread, cheese, dip or other delicacies.

Lunch (by this stage it was far too late for breakfast) finally happened at around 1.30 and consisted of beer, tomato and cheese pie, and sweetcorn. Then it was time to watch the beautiful Siobhan Owen sing the Welsh national anthem before the start of the Australia-Wales rugby match.

For some reason the new PTV original app (a very welcome and long overdue reinstatement of the old Metlink app, with new timetable information) failed to find the local tram stop, so it was out with the trusty TramTracker, then off to Richmond to collect the car.

The car was required to travel to Ormond to collect a standard lamp which had been on order for about a month. It was raining in Ormond but cleared up by the time we got back to Camberwell.

Assembling the lamp took some time and required vacuuming the floor afterwards, to remove all the bits of foam packing that had escaped. Then we made some dinner (spiced basmati rice with green beans and a lovely pear, parmesan and rocket salad) and settled down in front of the fire.

We watched a few episodes of Black Books before I finally remembered it was time to do the blog for today. And now it is bed time.

This is a picture of a beautiful old tree in Riversdale Park which we pass on the way to the shops.

 

Koor-jet fahr-see

The other day I discovered a wonderful food blog by Veronica, a web developer living in the south of France: La recette du jour. One of the sections in the blog that I really like is the reviews of Veronica's favourite cookery books, including such treasures as Jane Grigson's Good things and Geraldene Holt's French country kitchen. I stumbled across this blog while checking out the different versions of Jane Grigson's famous curried parsnip soup recipe.

This got me thinking that maybe there could be an alternative approach - a blog about really awful cookery books.

I happen to have one of these in my collection, although I'm thankful to say I didn't buy it - it was passed on by a friend, complete with her original food stains. It is called The complete vegetarian cookbook, a 1976 version of a book originally published in 1973 with the title Cooking without meat. The editors didn't even bother to update the title in the introduction to the new 'edition', which is an indication of how cheaply it was produced.

In the style of its time it does not have lavish illustrations or an appealing cover, and is printed in three columns with occasional line drawing decorations in red. It includes two groups of colour plates, but there is no reference in any of the actual recipes to the existence of an illustration. The 'index' is simply a list of recipe titles, grouped by categories such as 'Pizza and flan dishes' and 'Vegetable dishes'.

But the most annoying thing about this book is its condescending attitude to the reader. For example 'Courgettes Farcies aux Amandes/Courgettes [zucchini] stuffed with almonds' has the following introduction:

An elegant vegetable dish, Courgettes Farcis aux Amandes (koor-jet fahr-see oh-zah-mohn) will really impress your guests.

If your guests aren't impressed by your cooking or food presentation skills, at least they will be blown away by your authentic French pronunciation.

 

Discovery night #1

We recently agreed with Mr 30's suggestion that Thursday nights should be 'discovery nights', set aside to discover a previously unknown restaurant in our local area.

For discovery night #1 we cheated slightly, choosing the Wishing Well of India in Toorak Road Camberwell. Two of the five discoverers had been here before and insisted on their favourite dishes, the lemon coconut rice (LCR) and the dal tadka. The other dishes chosen were chicken vindaloo, lamb saag and aloo chole, with plain rice and garlic naan.

I can't speak for the meat dishes but the dal tadka (yellow split dal punjabi style) is lovely - crunchy with mustard seeds, and aromatic with curry leaves. The aloo chole dish is a soft and lightly spiced concoction of chick peas and potatoes, quite pleasant but not remarkable. The LCR (rice with lemon, shredded coconut, saffron and mustard seeds) is rich and delicious.

Another good thing about the Wishing Well is that it is next door to a very good licensed grocer. Our meal was accompanied by Charles Sturt University shiraz and James Squire Four Wives pilsener.

Our host has imposed a rule for discovery nights. After the initial checkin to facebook or foursquare, there is to be no social networking or other mobile device usage at the table. Discovery nights are not only about discovering neighbourhood eating experiences, but provide an opportunity to learn more about each other without the distraction of personal electronic devices. Mr 27 therefore decided it would be a good idea to bring along a book as an alternative means of annoyance, choosing The Tibetan Book of the Dead. We were treated to selected readings from this throughout the evening.

 

Eat and drink the world

In all yesterday's excitement about the Belgium biscuits, I omitted to report on the actual work undertaken at the Ancora Press on a cold windy night in Caulfield.

Brian and John spent a lot of time trying to coax the Albion Press into action, without noticeable success. The last work successfully printed on this press is the broadside A poem on the art of printing, published in 2010. Various technical difficulties and competing priorities from the Fine Arts students have prevented any further production. And sadly the Arab platen press is still out of bounds awaiting maintenance.

Meanwhile Pam and I continued setting the obscure cricket work. I managed to set the following text without dropping any lines of type or other major mishap (although what it has to do with cricket I am yet to discover):

The amount of food some of the passengers stowed away would have caused a look of consternation on the face of that gigantic and fleet-footed Eastern monarch who threw out an open challenge to eat and drink the world. I refer to that master of twenty-five different languages who poured molten gold down the throat of the Roman Consul, Manius Aquillius, and who, in order to prevent his harem falling into the hands of enemies, caused the lot to be put to death, specifically honour-

And at that point it was time for tea and Belgium biscuits. Hopefully the remainder of this extract and its relevance to the work in hand will be revealed in due course - but it may take some time.

 

Belgium biscuits

Today's treat at printing was Belgium (or Belgian) biscuits. The print master has been trying his hand at baking and the latest offering proved a resounding success.

His version consisted of spicy biscuits sandwiched together with jam (a New Zealand brand, naturally) and topped with a blob of icing and a choc bit. The kiwi expat amongst us knew immediately what they were, but they were a new experience to the rest of us.

The recipe comes from the Edmonds Cookery Book, which apparently has the same status in New Zealand as the PWMU or the Green and Gold cookery books have in Victoria and South Australia. Our Belgian biscuits came with an apology for the substitution of choc bits for the cherries specified in the original recipe, so I was amused to read in this blog entry from Pat Churchill (which includes the recipe) that she had never seen them made with cherries. In her experience red jelly crystals were the popular choice of the discerning housewife.

It seems to me that the Belgium biscuits baked for the Ancora Press, with their restrained blobs of white icing and discreet chocolate decoration, are decidely more elegant than the garish pink and red creations suggested by the venerable Edmonds.

 

Gloriana

Today's concert by Gloriana, The Road to Paradise, opened with works by the 16th century composers Thomas Tallis, William Byrd and Robert Parsons. The 20th and 21st centuries were represented by Gabriel Jackson, Jonathan Dove, Tarik O'Regan, Michael Tippett, John Taverner and Herbert Howells.

The program was challenging both for the performers and the audience, opening with Tallis's lengthy Lamentations of Jeremiah and concluding with Howells' anguished and harrowing Take him, earth, for cherishing, composed in 1964 for a memorial service for John F Kennedy.

I was intrigued by one of the 21st century pieces, Threshold of night, Tarik O'Regan's setting of Kathleen Raine's poem Who stands at my door in the storm and rain. In his comprehensive program notes, Gloriana's director Andrew Raiskums draws a connection between the work and Hurricane Katrina, with O'Regan's composition being completed on 29 August 2006, exactly one year after the hurricane devastated New Orleans. He writes that the poem 'can be seen to echo the conflcted and anguished thoughts of the displaced ...'. Both the text and the music speak eloquently of sorrow and pain.

The picture shows the spire of St Mark's Anglican Church in George Street Fitzroy, the venue for today's concert. It is very handy to the Napier Hotel, favoured by both audience and choristers for post-concert refreshments.

 

Blogging with Blogsy

Until now I've been blogging on the iPad with Safari, or turning to the ancient iMac if I felt I really had to insert a photo, assuming I could actually be bothered going into the study and turning on the computer. (This is why not many of my blog posts have pictures). The whole process is rather painful, particularly as I find that the only way to get proper formatting is to code the html manually (and my html coding is not exactly at the advanced stage).

After checking the reviews today I finally decided to pay the money and try out Blogsy. I am finding it bafflingly simple to use. What on earth was I thinking, battling with html code and actually getting up out of my chair to add photos to blog posts? I don't normally subscribe to the idea of promoting commercial products, but this app could change my life. Now all I need is a 'while you're up' app.

Just to prove that inserting photos is now so easy, here is a picture of the chair. Yes I did have to leave it momentarily to take the photo ...

 

Ancora, cricket and New Zealand

Wednesday night again: printing night. The 5.07 to Richmond; the next available train to Caulfield; the walk to the Fine Arts building which houses the Ancora Press and the artists books studio; and once again I am amidst the dedicated journeymen and master of the Ancora Press.

The Jack Lindsay poem about D.H. Lawrence is not yet published, as we are experiencing hardware issues (the Arab platen press needs maintenance, and the students need to use the Albion). Meanwhile we are setting selected extracts of an account of a world cricket tour. As I have only seen disjointed extracts of this work I have no idea of its authorship or period. The latest extract tells the sorry tale of the team's arrival by ship in Auckland, only to discover it is Sunday and the welcoming toast is made with empty glasses, on account of the liquor licensing laws in force in New Zealand at that time. But it could have been worse - some provinces enjoyed total prohibition.

The end of our shift is traditionally concluded with a cup of tea and a biscuit. Then it is home time. The vagaries of Melbourne's evening public transport schedules dictate a radically different solution for the return journey: the 8.00 624 Kew bus followed by a Riversdale Road tram. Sometimes they even connect ...

 

Almanackered

Today's blog is about a blog. If it weren't for the Footy Almanac, today I would quite possibly have completed some or all of the following tasks:

• trimmed the ficus, which has grown so completely out of control that it is about to fall off the wall which tentatively supports it
• cleaned the outdoor furniture, which is starting to sprout fungi in Melbourne's damp winter weather
• cleaned the silver
• cleaned the windows (yeah right)
• cleaned up the paperwork which has been accumulating in the study for years.

If you haven't yet discovered the Footy Almanac, please do so now. In particular discover Harms and Litza. You will laugh, you will cry, you will understand that there is more to life and footy than you ever thought to know. You will never be the same again.

Chillies and garlic

Cabbage soup with tamari and hot sauce; guacamole with garlic and green chilli; dal with red chilli and garlic; cream cheese with garlic and black pepper; spiced cauliflower with potato, green beans and green chilli; pappadums with brinjal pickle and sambal oolek. These are a few of our favourite things that have been eaten by our extended family over this long weekend.

We did take a break at breakfast for crumpets, butter and vegemite. But hopefully there will be some leftover dal for breakfast tomorrow ...

Bergerac and the Blues

After the big graduation night, Friday was spent very quietly until it was time to travel through the mizzle into the city for drinks and dinner before the Blues-Cats game at the stadium-named-after-a-different-sponsor-every-couple-of-years. Metro Trains' new customer service policy was evident at Flinders Street station, where the driver not only announced which platform we were approaching but advised that the train would be forming an Epping service travelling via Southern Cross and the city loop. Brilliant! It's only taken several decades for the transport authorities to work out that such announcements may actually be helpful for people wanting to continue their journey beyond Flinders Street to Southern Cross or loop stations. But I digress.

Next stop was the Exchange Hotel for a schooner, then on to Bergerac for a cheese omelette (sorry, Omelette au fromage). I've been to Bergerac several times and always ask for an omelette as there is basically nothing vegetarian on the menu. It is always absolutely delicious and served with a salad and a smile from the gorgeous waiters.

Off to the stadium to secure a spot in standing room just in time for the bounce. Geelong was looking a bit shaky at quarter time, so we changed sides, stopping by the Locker Room for refreshment on the way to a new spot on the Dockside wing. At half time things were not much improved in terms of the on-field performance from the Cats, so we retraced our steps to the Locker Room and settled into some nice comfy seats for the third quarter.

At three quarter time it was time to sample some real live action again. Due to some understandable confusion about which end of the ground was which, we found some seats in the Carlton cheer squad on level one behind the goals. By this time it was obvious that the mighty Cats were going to hold on for the win, but for some reason our unexpected infiltration into the posh seats, our cheering and Geelong regalia proved objectionable to some of our neighbours.

It was great to see Wojo being chaired off the ground to celebrate his 200th game; to sing the song; and then walk with the crowds through the construction site to Southern Cross for the train journey home. Being a Geelong supporter is finally worth the years of pain and disappointment, and we will continue to celebrate it for as long as we can.

Congraduations

At four thirty this afternoon we drove out to Monash. First stop was the Arts car park, not far from the academic gown robing area behind what used to be called the union building, but is now styled the campus centre. Suitably robed, we drove around to the science and engineering precinct for some photo opportunities outside the maths building and the Hargrave Andrew Library.

Next stop was the Nott, which to my delight still has chooks in the beer garden. We somehow missed the student precinct and found ourselves in the unreconstructed front bar. After a few Carlton draughts we were ready to hit the graduation ceremony.

But first a short detour to the Matheson library was in order. Mr 30 wanted a photo of himself with the music that had caused him so much grief during his studies - Debussy's Danseuses de Delphes. After a brief struggle with the catalogue we managed to find the score.

Mr 30 was fourth in line in the graduation ceremony, which then continued for some time. Professor Ian Chubb gave an inspiring address to end the evening, whereupon we spilled out into the cold and starry Clayton night. Back into the car, down the freeway, a quick stopover at Sofia's to pick up pizza, then back home to the fire, the footy show, the Dauphine and our loved ones.

Thoroughly decent blogs

Blogging every day of June has got me pondering what I like most about blogs.

While I am deeply grateful to everyone in my PLN and beyond who takes the trouble to write about things that matter to them, both professionally and personally, I have come to the conclusion that what I really like are blog posts that describe the apparently mundane details of life. These minutiae illuminate the unknown worlds inhabited by other people, and may even lead to insights into the strange country inhabited by oneself.

This pondering led me to thinking about books that let everyday occurrences do the talking.

Glen Tomasetti, a folk singer and political activist, wrote two novels: Thoroughly decent people and Man of letters. I am lucky enough to own both these books. Thoroughly decent people was published in 1976 and is set in suburban Melbourne in the 1930s. It describes the daily life of a seemingly ordinary and decent family in painstaking (even excruciating) detail. Man of letters, written some years later, tells the tale of a man whose safe and predictable world falls apart when the women in his life begin to behave in strange and unexpected ways.

Both books are notable for their endearing illustrations. I particularly love the photograph of a backyard pond in Man of letters, with the caption "'I hate women,' he said to the pool." Obviously, the pool does not say anything at all.

Bibliographic details of these books and some further information about Glen Tomasetti (including portraits) may be found in Trove.

The body in the library

Sorry for the late notice, but I'd like to commend Monash University Library for its display of detective fiction from the Rare Books Collection. If you can't make it out to Clayton in the next few days (and let's face it, getting to Clayton is a major commitment for most of us - don't even get me started on the train service to one of Melbourne's least appealing stations (Huntingdale) and the bus connection therefrom) I highly recommend you have a look at the virtual exhibition.

The exhibition includes early "Green Penguin" crime paperbacks and a case of Enid Blyton Famous Five and Secret Seven mysteries, among other treasures. A 1950s detective game including a secret code book, fake moustaches, fingerprint powder and handcuffs is just delightful. Take the trip to Clayton before it's too late!

The Shetland quartet

I'm currently reading the fourth novel in the Shetland quartet by Ann Cleeves, Blue Lightning.

I loved the first three (Red Bones, White Nights and Raven Black) but so far I'm finding the fourth disappointing in comparison. It is set in Fair Isle, the home of the hero Jimmy Perez. Fair Isle is a very self contained and isolated place ensuring that the mystery is played out in the conventional style with a limited and captive set of suspects. Jimmy is also on his own by virtue of this isolation, whereas in the first two books the contrast between Jimmy's low-key approach and the more aggressive style of Roy Taylor who is brought in to lead the investigations adds an extra dimension of complexity and intrigue to the plot.

There is still a lot to like about the book, with the appalling Fair Isle weather symbolising the frustration and tension felt by Jimmy; his partner Fran who is visiting the island and Jimmy's parents for the first time; and the residents and temporary visitors who nearly all qualify as suspects in the case. It is a relief when the wind drops enough to allow a couple of planes to land, bearing reporters and the dreaded 'Fiscal', Jimmy's boss.

Time to settle down by the fire on this cold rainy night and continue reading to the denouement; to discover more about the geography and culture of the Shetland Isles and be thankful that for all its faults the Melbourne weather has nothing on that of Fair Isle.

Commun na Feinne

The Commun na Feinne hotel ("The Commo") in South Geelong is a popular stopover before, after (and sometimes during) Geelong home games. It has a comfortable bar with an open fire, friendly staff and lots of Geelong memorabilia and is within easy walking distance of the stadium. If you have enough time you can also enjoy a good value meal in the dining room. The vegetarian lasagne with chips, salad and bread was always a favourite, but I notice that along with joining Facebook, the Commo now has eggplant parmigiana on the menu, which can only be a good thing.

I'd always assumed the name to be Irish, but on undertaking some "research" (ie a Google search) I discovered that Commun na Feinne is actually from the Scots Gaelic. Commun na Feinne was the name of a 19th century Geelong society which flourished around South Geelong. Early versions of the Geelong Highland Gatherings were held in fields east of Bellerine Street where the hotel now stands.

Significant trees: Gingko biloba

When the Friday photo theme for this week ("trees") was announced it seemed a great opportunity to fit a visit to the Geelong Botanic Gardens into the pre-match schedule. The gardens have no fewer than 38 trees registered on the National Trust Significant Tree register.

My favourite is the magnificent Gingko biloba, which is the largest example of the species in Victoria. I find the iPhone Trust Trees app very helpful in discovering more about the significant trees in Victoria's parks and gardens.

The Geelong Visual Diary blog has some lovely sketches of the Gingko and the peace garden which surrounds it.

Only in Geelong

On the first day of June we drove to Geelong in the late afternoon, arriving in Clare Street after dark. After a quick check in to the apartment, we walked to Lingy's Edge bar on the waterfront. The Geelong premiership captain (also known as the mayor of Geelong) was not in attendance but we enjoyed a few drinks and 'tapas' (nachos, gyoza, stuffed mushrooms with beetroot relish and risotto balls with pumpkin sauce).

Next stop was Costa Hall at Deakin University, named after the former Geelong president and benefactor Frank Costa. We had front row seats for the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra performance of Mozart's Jupiter symphony and Holst's The Planets. In the scrum around the bar at half time we spotted a man wearing his Geelong member's scarf. Only in Geelong ...