Saute a red onion in garlic-infused olive oil, or add a scored or crushed garlic clove. When almost done, add one chopped red capsicum, 12 large cherry tomatoes, a zucchini chopped into rounds, 12 sliced button mushrooms, 12 parboiled green beans and a handful of broccoli florets, also parboiled. Stir quickly to sauté, adding more oil and a handful of herbs of your choice if desired. The sweetish red onions should start to slightly caramelise. Meanwhile, cook rigatoni to al dente. Pile sautéed vegetables over pasta; top with shaved Parmesan and a spoonful of pesto if desired.
Trim four rashers of bacon and four forequarter chops. Fry the bacon in oil or dripping in a deep heavy-based pan. Remove. Brown the chops in the same pan. Remove. Peel four large potatoes and three carrots; cut the potatoes into thick slices and the carrots into diagonals. Chop a leek into thin rounds, rinsing if necessary. Chop an onion into thick rounds. Line the pan with a layer each of potato, carrot, leek and onion. Add white pepper and half the bacon. Arrange the chops on top. Repeat with more potato, carrot, leek and onion and the rest of the bacon. Add a teaspoon of chopped fresh thyme and add enough beef stock to just cover the vegetables. Cover the pan, bring to boil, reduce heat and simmer for an hour or longer.
Dedicated to the memory of broadcaster Pierre Baroni who, after presenting his 3PBS 106.7 program Soulgroove '66 on Saturday March 7, died three days later. This past weekend was a stationwide celebration of Baroni's music, the tributes flowing across from rival stations including, of course, 3RRR. Saturday afternoons have long been a music lover's delight; even a dilemma, with the Soulgroove '66 timeslot up against the excellent Twang on 3RRR and the early 20th century musical goldmine of Steam Radio on 3CR. And then there's the football ...
I came around the Cape Liptrap road about seven in the evening, partly by accident and partly to burn some time. The more direct route is via Leongatha and Fish Creek, but the Inverloch/Tarwin Lower alternative makes you want to live there. From high up on the cape, the peaks of Wilson's Promontory down below turn pale red in the early evening and the sea can be seen smashing into the coast below the lighthouse. I drove on through Walkerville, a collection of neat closed-up beach houses. Then, north-east again, I curved clockwise around the top of Waratah Bay right there at my right hand but unseen; crashing waves audible above the quiet hum of the car's motor. Twenty minutes later I rolled to a stop inside the farm gate. No other cars in sight. The collection of house, barn, studio, potting shed and other outbuildings had an expectant air, as if sundry humans were about to burst out. I got out of the car. Over by the barn, some hens were bickering among themselves. I went insi
She was a bit tired, she told me. The doctors had said the rash was shingles, her vision has worsened and she swallows a small mountain of pills. No wonder she was tired. 92. Or is it 93? ‘Oh, no,’ she replied. ‘I’m not tired because of any of that. I stayed up late watching War of the Worlds.’ What time did it finish? ‘Three in the morning.’ She had a series of medical appointments. My sister, who lives in that earthly paradise in between south Gippsland and Wilson’s Promontory, was planning to travel by bus to the city (three hour trip) to accompany her on the days I wasn’t available. She called me unexpectedly. ‘I’m in town already,’she said. ‘In the Alfred hospital. Peter was making another batch of beer. He had the water, three gallons, up to a nice boil ... .' She didn't have to say the rest. Skin grafts on his foot, and less severe chest burns. Could have been worse. He was in for five days. My sister stayed at the ancestral home in Deakin Street, visited Peter, ran the