What I Cooked Last Night

I don't like restaurants. I don't like the cost, I don't like the noise, I don't like being a prisoner to some idiot waiter, I don't like other people's at-table habits, and I don't like sitting in a place that feels like a nineteenth century workhouse dining room. I'd rather eat at the GMH canteen, or Coles cafeteria; where the dress standard is higher, the customers are more respectful to those around them, the food doesn't cost a fortune, and the serves are bigger. The other week my wife had to go to a work dinner at one of those barn-like renovated pubs where the noise level is like an airport and a glass of wine costs $8.95. Her meal was a pork chop that cost $34 because it had some freekeh and a five-cent-coin-sized mound of smoked onion puree next to it, and you had to pay extra for something called a 'side' which, translated, means the rest of your meal. I ate at home alone that night. We had had corned beef earlier in the week, and...

From the weekend vacant position ads, a job at one of Australia's leading schools, PLC: Director of Innovation The Director of Innovation will develop and execute the vision to re-conceptualise library; space, staff and services, to create an Innovation Centre at PLC. The position plays a strategic and transformational role by providing opportunities for creativity and entrepreneurship through developing innovative and inviting spaces and a range of experiences that delight and engage students and staff as well as offering community building experiences with the wider PLC community. Just read that last sentence again. It is a masterpiece of the genre; an over-long piece of jargon-riddled bureaucrat-speak devoid of any real meaning. Who do they want? An architect? A painter? A set designer? A performance artist? Who knows. Probably they don't, either. On it goes: The incumbent (sic – but they mean the appointee) will ensure the delivery of information learning and literary serv...

IN PART ONE , CREATIVE DIRECTOR JUSTIN IS PRESENTING A BEER CAMPAIGN TO BREWERY CLIENT EUGENE IONESCO (SIC). PLEASANTRIES OUT OF THE WAY, EUGENE ASKS FOR A COFFEE BEFORE GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS. NOW READ ON. JUNE, THE LAST REMAINING TEA LADY IN THE ADVERTISING INDUSTRY, CRASHES THROUGH THE DOOR WITH A TROLLEY LOAD OF COFFEE CUPS. SHE SAYS NOTHING BUT PLONKS A LOADED TRAY ON THE BOARDROOM TABLE AND WADDLES OUT AGAIN, SLAMMING THE DOOR. EUGENE: I see June's in her usual high spirits today. JUSTIN: Every time there's a pitch on she gets more stressed than anyone else in the entire agency because it throws her routine out. A presentation with sixty million dollars in the balance, and June's grumpy about ten extra cups to wash up. Plus, I figure she's lost us several new accounts just by spilling coffee on the MD or being rude to the head of marketing. EUGENE: Yes, well as clients we do factor in the quality of service at a potential agency. That's only natural....

Aberfeldie, Saturday 14 November. Left to right: Tom and William. Picture: Gerard Feain (Tom's earlier athletics career here .)

This is probably the best Christmas shopping-for-kids idea I've ever heard. Local bookshop Pictures & Pages is having a grown-ups-only night, during which you get to enjoy champagne and nibbles while you walk around the shop pulling books off the shelf and throwing them in a box. You don't even need your wallet; they give you until December 3 to pay, and after that they will keep your book purchases hidden away out the back until you sneak them home on Christmas eve. That will have the kids scratching their heads after they've searched the house for their presents while you're at work. Interfering little brats. * Pictures & Pages 400 Sydney Rd, Coburg Grown-ups only night 19 November 7pm-9pm .

Victoria Police recently decided that OH&S issues trump pursuing drug-affected criminals in cars. That decision has given licence to the latter to simply drive at or around police to escape apprehension, with predictable results : "The driver of that vehicle accelerated hard towards the police member and ran him down," said Acting Superintendent David Griffin. But may a policeman fire his gun to attempt to save his own life? Herald Sun reporters Kara Irving, Wes Hosking and Jon Kaila (strength in numbers obviously being a necessary requisite for Herald Sun staff at police incidents) ask the question: Supt Griffin ... would not comment on whether discharging the firearm was the best response under the circumstances.

Yes, I watched it. We were up in the hills on Tuesday at a cousin's house for a picnic for the children's grandmother, and after lunch at Belgrave Lake - as pretty a place as you could hope to have a Cup Day lunch - back to the house. The children had drawn horses cut from the morning paper's form guide, and one had Big Orange who led from the start to the 700, and they screamed at the television. Then the field bunched up into a sea of horses, and 300 out a green and purple flash came out of the scrum. We didn't know until the close-up on Michelle Payne's face. Goosebumps. I had earlier read her interview in which she said she had a good feeling about the race. Not the brash kind of good feeling where you're just talking up your chances; but something else. Might have been her mother, or her sister. She lost the former at six months; the latter a few years ago. Youngest of ten, and lost her mother at six months. We didn't know the result until the vision ...

5.30 ON A FRIDAY AFTERNOON. DAVID, THE ADVERTISING AGENCY OWNER, STROLLS INTO THE BOARDROOM, LOOKS AROUND AND SIGHS. HE IS TIRED BUT CONTENT. ANOTHER DIFFICULT WEEK HAS ENDED WITH NO CLIENT DEFECTIONS, NO STAFF TANTRUMS, NO RESIGNATIONS, AND NO FIST-FIGHTS. WHILE DAVID IS THINKING ABOUT WHETHER TO PLAY GOLF AT THE WEEKEND OR SIMPLY HANG OUT AT HIS DOUBLE-STOREY GEORGIAN IN TOORAK, JUNE THE TEA LADY WADDLES INTO THE BOARDROOM. JUNE: I'm closing up in twenty minutes, David. DAVID (THINKS): I own an agency turning over a hundred million a year and the fucking tea lady is kicking me out of my own building. DAVID (SAYS): That’s fine, June. I'll be out in fifteen. WHILE DAVID RULES HIS AGENCY WITH AN IRON FIST HE HAS BEEN SUCCESSFUL IN ADVERTISING MAINLY BECAUSE HE HAS FOLLOWED THE GOLDEN RULE: NO MATTER HOW AGGRESSIVE YOU ARE TO CLIENTS, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU ABUSE YOUR ACCOUNT TEAM OR SHOUT AT CREATIVE, YOU NEVER, EVER, EVER DISRESPECT THE TEA LADY. NOBODY DISRESPECTS...

THE CREATIVE PRESENTATION FOR A NEW BRAND OF BEER IS TAKING PLACE IN THE BOARDROOM. THE CREATIVE DIRECTOR, JUSTIN, IS AT ONE END OF A TABLE AND THE CLIENT, MR EUGENE IONESCO (YES: HIS NAME REALLY WAS EUGENE IONESCO), IS AT THE OTHER END OF THE TABLE WHICH IS ABOUT A MILE LONG. WHAT IS IT ABOUT LARGE BOARDROOM TABLES? SOME KIND OF STUPID CORPORATE POWER GAME? JUSTIN IS NERVOUS. FIRSTLY, HE HAS TO SHOUT BECAUSE THE CLIENT IS SO FAR AWAY. SECONDLY, THE POWERPOINT PRESENTATION IS ONE FRAME OUT, MEANING THERE'S AN EXTRA PAGE IN THE PRINT DOCUMENT BUT DELETED FROM THE COMPUTER. THIRDLY, THE CONCEPTS ARE NOT MAKING HIM JUMP THROUGH HOOPS TODAY. JUSTIN IS WEARING A CHAMBRAY SHIRT OVER FADED JEANS. HE THINKS HE IS BEING IRONIC ABOUT THE EIGHTIES, BUT HE JUST LOOKS LIKE ROD STEWART. EUGENE IS WEARING A WHITE SHIRT OF FINEST COTTON OVER BLACK DESIGNER PANTS AND SOFT BLACK SUEDE SHOES. A SLINKY ORANGE SCARF IS TOSSED CARELESSLY AROUND HIS NECK AND DRIFTS WITH HIS MOVEMENTS LIKE GOSSAMER. ...

According to popular opinion, 1950s Australia was a cultural, culinary and social wasteland. One of the sub-texts of this misguided belief is that 'multi-cultural' food arrived only during that decade's post-war European migration into Australia. Presumably pasta, garlic, canned tomatoes and other exotic ingredients disembarked alongside the immigrants - or in their suitcases - off the same 1950s boats at Station Pier, to widespread nose-crinkling of the natives. Au contraire, mes amis . The following recipe complete with those same foreign ingredients appeared in a 1930 edition (see previous post) of The Leader Spare Corner Book . Hancock’s Spaghetti Recipe Chop up fowl in small pieces, add two tablespoons of lard, braise well, then add four cloves garlic (or onion), 2 lb of tomatoes, small cup of water, salt and pepper to taste. Simmer until fowl is tender, pour over spaghetti, add grated cheese and serve. Ordinary cheap cuts of meat can be used instead of fowl. Thi...

Roast potatoes are one of life's greatest benefits, especially when eaten hot straight from the oven having been baked with garlic and rosemary. Unfortunately, I sometimes bake too many and despite our best efforts, some remain uneaten. There are many ways to use them up. Pizza restaurants slice them onto pizzas and call them 'gourmet'. I call them leftovers. Beat half a dozen eggs and pour them into a non-stick pan over a low heat. Slice roast potatoes, grate a zucchini, slice a cooked chorizo sausage into thin rounds, cut some black olives into fine slices. Add these to omelette. Place lid over the pan if it has one, turn heat to lowest and let it cook through gently. If brave, make an attempt to fold this monster omelette, otherwise leave it as it is and call it a frittata. Slice into wedges and serve.

Nothing beats putting 'eco-' in front of your product name to generate utterly cynical marketing credibility. The average consumer is presumed to believe that the manufacture and distribution of a product without the eco- prefix has left a trail of environmental disaster in its wake. But add those three magic letters and the marketer conjures a kind of damage reversal; and an enviro-pixie waves a wand of green fairy dust every time you buy it. Eco batteries. Eco downlights. Eco bananas, with machine-dipped red wax tips. Yesterday I saw a product in the bathroom department called Eco-Ply. Enough said. Every time you flush, a forest grows somewhere. But eco- is not new. It pre-existed the green religion. I came across it in an old cookbook. Eco Macaroons. Half cup sugar. ¾ cup dessicated cocoanut (sic). ¾ cup rolled oats. Small piece butter. Mix well with beaten egg, and drop in teaspoonful on baking sheet. Bake in slow oven 20 minutes. From The Leader Spare Corner...

Who needs NASA? Illustration by William, 2010.

At last. Someone has verbally, if not literally, destroyed PowerPoint . I've been railing against PowerPoint for years. Some of my choicer PowerPoint quotes: Thick, steaming garlic bread and red wine. It makes the perfect late supper, unless you have an early meeting next morning. However, if you are being summoned to a powerpoint presentation, go ahead and eat all the garlic you like. Anyone putting on a powerpoint presentation in the morning deserves to be blown away in a garlic gale. I was at my second office reading a forty page powerpoint printout about some marketing genius's idea of what 'sets a company apart'. It was full of words like 'innovate' and 'respond' and 'focus on the customer' but it was devoid of any common sense at all. Yes, it's Bulwer-Lytton time again; the competition that asks you to write the opening sentence of the worst-ever novel. Shouldn't be hard: just read the average corporate mission statement or ...