What I Cooked Last Night

On Friday morning before the Melbourne Cup weekend, there had been furious jockeying between the creative staff to win the Cup Eve Monday off as a holiday. Creative director Jason had a kind of reverse-Solomon moment in preventing inter-staff jealousy by awarding the bonus Monday to himself (as he had in the past three years). Meanwhile, everyone had been called into the boardroom for drawing of the annual Melbourne Cup sweep, which Yasmiijn de Reverien was to draw. Jason has recently appointed her as his new personal assistant, a job title he changed to 'creative co-ordinator' to deflect any suggestion of inferiority, servitude, misogyny, sexism etc. Yasmiijn's employment was greeted with scepticism from the rest of the creative department; and raised eyebrows from management, but Jason insisted he be allowed to staff his own department without interference. Yasmiijn has flame red hair and is wearing a silky thing that looks like it was woven by butterflies. It is prob...

Warning: offensive language, sexist stereotypes, threatened violence and more. Section 18C would not survive a morning in a robust advertising agency. In a place like this, a 'trigger warning' is when you walk through the front door. The following story is true. Some names have been changed. IT IS THE FRIDAY BEFORE THE MELBOURNE CUP. ACROSS THE CITY, THOUSANDS OF EMPLOYEES GALLOP TO THE MANAGING DIRECTOR'S OFFICE (OR IN THIS CASE, THE CREATIVE DIRECTOR'S PENTHOUSE-LIKE SPACE COMPLETE WITH LEATHER SOFAS AND TWO BRETT WHITELEYS) TO ASK FOR THE MONDAY OFF, MAKING IT A FOUR-DAY WEEKEND. JASON IS THE CREATIVE DIRECTOR AT BLAKE, BROWNING, BURNS. WITH HIM IN HIS PALATIAL OFFICE ARE ART DIRECTOR ART (YES, ART. ART IS SHORT FOR ARTHUR. IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN FORTY YOU MIGHT NOT KNOW THIS BECAUSE THERE HAVE BEEN NO ARTHURS BORN IN THE LAST THIRTY YEARS, EXCEPT THIS PARTICULAR ART, WHO IS 26) AND JAKE, A WRITER. JASON: I'm not coming in Monday, so you guys will have to ...

A cold wind blasted up from the south and the sky was steel grey. I was walking through a patchwork of emerald green paddocks where I once walked as a child with my parents, picking mushrooms. The mushrooms still pop up occasionally but these days the fields are given over to another purpose. I walked along a fence line and saw a horse standing in the cold air in the middle of the paddock. I came closer. The horse seemed to be on a slight lean. It was old. Its eye was on me. It picked up its hooves and ambled over. I walked slowly along, outside the fence. The horse followed me a little way, and then its attention was drawn by another horse in the corner of the field. I came to a gate. On it a sign read: Fields of Omagh. Suddenly I heard a thunderclap. It sounded like 30,000 people screaming, willing a horse past a finishing post on a tight, curved racecourse track. Then silence. Another paddock. Another old horse. Another sign: Might and Power. The noise and vision this time was...

From a news report: But others called the academy’s decision misguided and questioned whether songwriting, however brilliant, rises to the level of literature. And can you believe they're still smarting from the time he picked up an electric guitar?

I was researching a long-defunct 1960s cricket team called the Northern Cricketers. The Northern Cricketers were a social side who played on Sundays at Holbrook Reserve, West Brunswick. The ground was at the westernmost point of the suburb, perched on a horseshoe bend of the Moonee Ponds Creek, so that a good stroke over cover would land in that part of Moonee Ponds immediately south of Moonee Valley Racecourse. Just a short way south of the ground is the Essendon Hockey Club and Ormond Park, home of the Moonee Valley FC, once known as the Fog, as anyone familiar with that low-lying area would know, especially on those cold autumn evenings at the start of footy season. OK, the place is dripping with sporting history. I didn't know if Holbrook Reserve still existed. So I investigated. A glance at the map showed that it looked to be almost obliterated by the Tullamarine freeway, which was built in the early 1970s. However, the ground survived, and I found it. The freeway is its...

Late morning. I was on the phone to yet another 1800 number listening to yet another 'menu'. If you want to give money, press one: you're first. To increase your monthly direct-debit donation, press two: we'll be with you in a millisecond. To hear a heart-warming story about a dog who would have died except for someone's $50 donation, press three. If you have no heart, hang up now. It was the twenty-fifth 'charity' I'd called that day. They call themselves charities, but they are collection agency call centres for non-government organisations. * She averages a dozen request-for-money letters a week. I help her collect them from the letterbox, because she can barely reach it nowadays. She is in her late eighties and elderly widows are gold for the charity sector. Hence the torrent of mail. The fronts of the envelopes have faces with big, sad eyes and short headlines which telegraph the next death sentence that could be delayed or stayed via a q...

Hawthorn has won four of the last eight grand finals, including the last three, for a total of thirteen. Footscray has won one grand final, which no-one under 70 remembers. It's impossible to think of Footscray (or the Western Bulldogs as they are now known) as having ever been a more successful club than Hawthorn. However, the situation was very different early in the 1960s according to one writer: ... they must be classed as the most successful of the three babes of the League - Footscray, Hawthorn and North Melbourne - since they entered the League in 1925. ... their record is nowhere near as dismal as North and Hawthorn's - and St Kilda for that matter, even though they've been in the League much longer. Lou Richards made the claim in his book Boots and All published in 1963 on the strength of Footscray's 1954 flag and its near-miss in its 1961 grand final loss to Hawthorn, the latter team's first premiership. But Richards saw Hawthorn's flag as somethi...

It's one of the health fads of the moment. I keep hearing it everywhere. Curcumin. For relief of inflammation. No-one knows if it works or not, of course, just like no-one knows if fish oil works. You spend your money on hope, like betting with Sportsbet. "If your team loses by less than ten points after leading at half time - CASHBACK!!!!!" Except there's no cash back with supplements and they're a lot dearer than a twenty-buck bet. Turmeric - the source of curcumin - is a lot cheaper and tastier, as in the following curry I made last night: Potato, spinch and eggplant curry - with tumeric. Dice four large potatoes and fry them in oil in a deep frypan in batches until done. Remove. Cube four eggplants and fry these in the same pan, adding more oil if necessary. Remove. Chop two large onions and fry until golden, adding more oil if necessary. Into the frying onions, stir a cubic inch (guess) of finely chopped ginger (a cousin of turmeric), a heaped te...

Home made gnocchi is big in restaurants, but not many people except for Italians seem to make it at home. It's no big deal; just mashed potato bound with flour or eggs. Any number of people will try and complicate it by saying you need potatoes of a certain age or waxiness. I've tried all the theories and no matter what you do the resulting gnocchi are always good. Here's an example , with another link within that post using sweet potato. Last night I made a similar batch, drained them, rolled them in some finely chopped parsley and crumbled some blue cheese over the gnocchi in serving bowls. Then I browned them under the griller and served them, scattering parmesan over the top.

Previously published here .

ADVERTISING AGENCY BLAKE, BROWNING, BURNS HAS BROUGHT IN ADMAN CLYDE P. ULSTER TO LAND A PRESTIGIOUS RETAIL CLIENT. AMIDST A GALA PRESENTATION IN THE BOARDROOM CATERED BY VETERAN TEALADY JUNE, CLYDE SHOCKS THE ASSEMBLED STAFF BY ANNOUNCING RETAIL PAWNBROKER CRIME CONVERTERS AS THE NEW CLIENT. CLYDE HAS INVITED THE ENTIRE STAFF TO ATTEND A MEETING AT THE CLIENT'S FRANKSTON HQ THE FOLLOWING WEEK. THE ONLY STAFF MEMBER UNABLE TO ATTEND IS JUNE, WHO APPEARS TO BE THE MOST PRODUCTIVE MEMBER OF THE AGENCY. A COLD, BLEAK MELBOURNE MORNING IN LATE WINTER DAWNS. AMONG THE THOUSANDS OF TRADIE UTES PROCEEDING SOUTH ON THE NEPEAN HIGHWAY IS A CONVOY OF EUROPEAN LUXO-BARGES; SLEEK SILVER AND BLACK MACHINES DESIGNED TO DO 250 K/MH BUT CRUELLY DESTINED NEVER TO BREAK 110. HOWEVER, THIS PARTICULAR MORNING THEY ARE SULKILY CRAWLING ALONG AT 40K/MH DUE TO ROADWORKS ON EASTLINK AND AN ACCIDENT AT SOUTH ROAD. DECLAN: Fucking traffic. And why do we always get clients who have their headquarters in ...

IN PART ONE, ADVERTISING AGENCY BLAKE BROWNING BURNS HAS BROUGHT IN RETAIL ADVERTISING EXPERT CLYDE P. ULSTER TO LAND A PRESTIGE RETAIL CLIENT. CLYDE HAS BRIEFED THE AGENCY ON THE HISTORY OF RETAIL ADVERTISING AND THE STAFF ARE AGOG, EXPECTING AN ANNOUNCEMENT ANY DAY. LOUDSPEAKER: Attention please, would everyone proceed to the boardroom immediately for an important agency announcement from Wayne. Wayne is flying interstate shortly so would you please move to the boardroom swiftly for this meeting. Thanks. TEN MINUTES LATER, STAFF ARE STILL WANDERING LIKE LOST SHEEP INTO THE BOARDROOM. FINALLY, EVERYONE IS THERE AND WAYNE (AGENCY MD) ENTERS, ACCOMPANIED BY CLYDE. P. ULSTER, WHO LOOKS EXTRA PLEASED WITH HIMSELF. WAYNE (DOES SARCASM WITH A STRAIGHT FACE): Thanks everyone for being so prompt. I love the way you all jump to attention when the need arises. I have a great announcement to make today. Clyde here (LOOKS AT CLYDE) has worked his arse off for several months on a very impo...

CLYDE P. ULSTER WAS A SANDY-HAIRED FAT MAN WHO HAD A RED FACE AND WORE A SUIT THAT WAS TOO BIG, BECAUSE HE THOUGHT IT WOULD MAKE HIM LOOK SMALLER. IT DIDN'T. CLYDE P. ULSTER LOOKED LIKE AN ELEPHANT IN A COLLAPSED CIRCUS TENT. MR ULSTER STARTED WORKING AT ADVERTISING AGENCY BLAKE BROWNING BURNS ONE WINTER. HE APPEARED LIKE SO MANY CONSULTANTS DO - HE TURNED UP EVERY NOW AND THEN UNANNOUNCED; AND BEFORE WE KNEW IT, HE PART OF THE PLACE, BORING US TO DEATH AT FRIDAY NIGHT DRINKS AND LAUGHING TOO LOUD AT THE MD'S JOKES. CLYDE DROVE A TWENTY-YEAR-OLD NAVY BLUE MERCEDES 400SEL WHICH WAS COVERED IN DUST AND HAD A BACK SEAT FULL OF JUNK UP TO THE WINDOW SILLS. THE JUNK INCLUDED PLASTIC-BOUND INCH-THICK PRINT-OUTS OF POWERPOINT PRESENTATIONS, YELLOWING AND DOG-EARED. THAT MEANT CLYDE P. ULSTER HAD EITHER EXACTLY THE WRONG ATTITUDE ABOUT POWERPOINT PRESENTATIONS, OR EXACTLY THE RIGHT ONE. I COULDN'T FIGURE OUT WHICH. THE REST OF THE JUNK INCLUDED RETAIL BUSINESS TENDER DOCUMENTS ...

Yeah, I had to read it twice as well. Some headlines do that to you. Pasta with walnuts and broccoli. Something to do with flavour or texture or both. Nuts go with members of the brassica family and if you underscore that pairing with something warm and bland and homely, like traditional home-made pasta, and bind it with a compatible fat - cream or cheese or both - you have the makings of a great dish. Hence the following: Cook the pasta. Rigatoni is my fallback when discrete components appear in the sauce, but for this I used farfalle, usually incorrectly translated as bowties for the obvious reason, but when you know it means butterflies, you will never again look upon a pack of them in a shop as an item of men's clothing. Meanwhile, cook a finely chopped onion and a clove of garlic in some olive oil in a shallow non-stick pan. Then add half a cup of white wine, the same amount of cream, and a shower of walnuts. Stir and reduce. When the pasta is almost cooked, throw ...