mother’s love: anzac biscuits

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A couple of days ago a gentleman asked me whether I was British.  I replied 'No, I am Australian'.  He suggested that this was the same; making me essentially British.  I repeated that I was Australian, and that did not make me British. 2015…

rustic Italian baking: with brisée pastry

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The meeting spot is Villa Pamphilli, behind the swings and umbrella pines where the the ground slopes down towards the wild bit. It is a picnic, so everyone will bring something to eat and at least one rug.  The children will take their shoes…

anglo-australian classics: shepherd’s pie

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One of my earliest food memories is stopping at a little cafe restaurant in the blink-and-you-will-miss-it town called Yarck on the Melba Highway.  It was probably a Friday night, and we would have been on our way to Jamieson for the weekend. …

how we shop: and lombrichelli pasta with zucchini

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I often wonder whether there is a spike in sales of real newspapers over the summer holidays.  August in Lubriano is the luxury of walking to the edicola (Lubriano still has one), buying a paper, and maybe stopping in at…