What I Cooked Last Night

    Thought by some to have been the best song of the post-1950s rock'n'roll era.

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 ...

... Murray Walker, whose magnificently musical upper-register voice almost sounded like a Formula One car itself, has gone to the great pitstop in the sky.

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...

One of the teenagers asked for Caesar salad; when I made it, the other - who never touches iceberg lettuce or any of the other lettuces - decided he liked Cos. One of my past obsessions on this weblog was the search for the great Caesar of Melbourne. Incorrect spelling of the name meant immediate disqualification; harsh but necessary. It is probably evolutionary that the human mind recalls bad faster than good; I don’t remember the really good ones, but I can still taste the greasy, stale croutons, the brown-edged limp lettuce and the oleaginous bacon of the worst. It was one of those food halls in Bourke Street where they pile up the salads like pyramids. Detail is everything. Fresh cold lettuce. If not using anchovies, prosciutto - or guanciale or whatever - with the fat rendered out so that it is crisp and its saltiness is not obscured by oiliness. Freshly toasted croutons flecked with lemon juice. A cleanly poached egg added at the last second followed by a shower of flaked parmesa...

20. Ooh My Head - Ritchie Valens. Led Zeppelin stole it, renamed it and claimed it as their own, 15 years after Valens died at age 17. 19. Me and Mrs Jones - Billy Paul. Early 1970s-baroque horn-punctuated soul from heyday of Philadelphia International Records. 18. Witchita Lineman - Glenn Campbell. Otherworldly Jimmy Webb genius, violins riding high like the wind in the wires. 17. Cry Softly Lonely One - Roy Orbison. More crystal-shattering vocal impossibilities from the three-octave master. 16. Halfway to Paradise - Ben E. King. Goffin/King composition was halfway to heaven; Ben E. King took it all the way. 15. Everlovin' Man - The Loved Ones. Cyclonic rhythm and blues on steroids. 14. Back to the Wall - Divinyls. Defiant late-1980s ultimatum by one of the sexiest voices ever to ride around a turntable. 13. Summertime - Zombies. Accompanying Colin Blunstone's burnished vocals, Rod Argent's Hohner Pianet turns out notes that hang in the air like dust motes in a shaft of su...

Sometimes hot weather is best faced by eating fiery food. Don’t know why. Perhaps it’s so you don’t know why you’re sweating; the food or the inferno of an evening.  This robust, flavoursome dish has a touch of fire for those (like the lurking teenagers casting shadows over the kitchen door) who are as hungry as six tigers* and like a little heat. Buy a pre-prepared jar of arrabiata pasta sauce; or use a regular passata and cook with browned onions, garlic, a splash of red wine such as durif or shiraz, and a touch of chilli.  Warm sauce through while pasta is cooking (recipe works best with chunky pasta such as penne, rigatoni or my favourite, tortiglioni). Meanwhile, slice a chorizo sausage into discs the size of ancient coins and fry these on both sides until they brown. Add cream to sauce; reduce until a good consistency and pour over pasta in serving dishes. Top with chorizo discs, torn basil and chopped parsley. Ciabatta bread or similar to mop up remaining sauce. Red win...