Ruminations and recipes from a small kitchen in a big city.


Avocadoes from across the Great Divide.

Eight of them came down, hard as rocks, from a friend's farm outside Euroa. They don't all come from Queensland; they grow well just across the Great Divide.

Put them in a paper bag with a banana, he said. Ripens them. Ripens the banana, too. Made banana cake when they went soft.

Been eating avocadoes for ten days. They came up beautifully. Four days in a paper bag with a banana will do that to you.

Creamy and cold, with a perfect interior of pale green, like a 1930s tiled bathroom.

I made pasta with avocado, variations of which I have posted many times; the clich├ęd but delicious guacamole; one, halved and baked, even became a rerun of the 1970s classic avocado vinaigrette. Then there were sandwiches of wholegrain bread with cold sliced chicken and avocado, tomato and cheddar cheese, possibly the best sandwich ever invented. (Toast these in winter and never go back to ham-and-cheese again.)

But the best dish with the Euroa avocado consignment was a scotch fillet steak grilled fast and rare, the outside charred but the inside red, and served under a sauce of cream reduced with thin slices of avocado and plenty of cracked peppercorns. Mash and green beans on the side. And a glass of red.


Across the Great Divide
Just grab your hat, and take that ride
Get yourself a bride
And bring your children down to the riverside.

- Robbie Robertson, 1969

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