Lemon sour cream muffins

Kid 1: If I was to be killed and eaten, I would like to be put to sleep so I couldn’t feel anything, then have every part of my body used, eaten and nothing wasted. Kind of like a soft shell crab.

He really is showing an extreme commitment to the concept of nose to tail eating. During the school holidays, Kid 1 watched a junior baking show on television where ten year olds created intricate baked goodies. This put a fire in his belly and he insisted on baking these muffins completely by himself (under my supervision.) His egg-cracking ability has come along in spades and it’s lovely to observe his burgeoning kitchen confidence.

This is a standard recipe in our household and they are very good. The sour cream moistens the muffins and contributes towards a tender crumb and light golden exterior. They are tangy, creamy and moreish. The only thing that will be be left is the muffin wrapper.

LEMON SOUR CREAM MUFFINS

WHAT YOU NEED
1/3 cup vegetable oil (we use grapeseed)
2/3 cup caster sugar
2 eggs, 70g
Zest and juice of one medium size lemon (roughly 1 tbl of zest and 1/4 cup lemon juice. If I have extra lemons, I will often add another tbl of zest. We love ‘mega lemon’ flavour)
3/4 cup sour cream
1 1/2 cups plain flour
1/2 cup wholemeal plain flour
1 tbl baking powder
1/4 tsp salt

HOW YOU DO IT
Preheat the oven to 200C and place your muffin papers in a muffin tin or on a baking tray. I will often give the muffin papers a light spray with rice bran oil spray to avoid sticking.
In a large bowl, combine the oil and sugar.
Add the eggs and mix well.
Add the lemon juice, lemon zest and sour cream and mix well.
Sift the flours, baking powder and salt into the bowl then fold in gently. Do not overmix or your muffins will be not as tender.
Fill the muffins papers about 2/3rds full and bake for about 15-20 minutes until they are risen, light golden brown and a skewer comes out clean.
Eat them.

Makes 11-12 muffins depending on the size of your muffin papers

Slightly adapted from a recipe from Jens Favorite Cookies blog, link to original recipe follows.

Lemon Sour Cream Muffins


Cauliflower and zucchini gratin

Is it wrong to love someone simply because you return home at midnight from a girls night out, on a cold winters eve, to discover that your other half has thoughtfully left your side of the electric blanket switched on? You can keep your Tiffany’s, Cartier and Harry Winston. It’s the small thoughtful actions that float my boat and whilst diamonds may be a girls best friend, they can’t keep you warm on a chilly evening. (Not like an electric blanket does. Oh, and a Yak of course.)

My way of showing The Yak love, is to cook hearty vegetable dishes that involve cheese. This little recipe is a take on a dish from the excellent ‘The Wholesome Cook’ by Martyna Angeles. It is a smidgen lighter than a heavier cream-based gratin. The sharp cheese, nutty cauliflower and golden crust has ensured that this gratin will be on steady rotation for the remainder of winter.

CAULIFLOWER AND ZUCCHINI GRATIN

WHAT YOU NEED
2 tbl oil (I used grapeseed oil)
300g cauliflower, cut into small florets
3 small zucchini (300g), sliced into 1 cm chunks
Black pepper
Sea salt
1/2 cup milk
100g Comte, Gruyere or Taleggio cheese, diced
1/3 cup breadcrumbs of your choice, I used gluten free sourdough buckwheat crumbs). The original recipe uses almond meal.

HOW YOU DO IT
Preheat oven to 180C and grease a 20 cm gratin dish.
Heat the oil in a medium size frying pan and saute the cauliflower and zucchini over a medium heat for about ten minutes, until they start to colour and soften. Season generously with black pepper and add a big pinch of sea salt.
Add the milk and cheese and stir for one minute until the cheese starts to melt. Check the seasoning then pour into the gratin dish.
Sprinkle with the breadcrumbs or almond meal and bake for 30-40 minutes until golden brown.
Serves 2-4 people.

Cooking Notes: I have added a few pinches of nutmeg before which adds a bit of something nice, also the original recipe uses 3 yellow squash instead of zucchini; Taleggio instead of Comte and states to sprinkle 2 tbl of chopped parsley over the gratin with the breadcrumbs before baking.

Recipe only slightly adapted from The Wholesome Cook by Martyna Angeles, published by Harlequin, October 2015.

Go here for a Cheergerm post about The Wholesome Cook book and a millet and rice puff square


Rice pudding with cardamom, rosewater and pistachios. A faerie tale.

Once upon a time, a Cheergerm happened upon a magical sounding exotic rice pudding recipe in a magazine. It was torn out and safely filed/misplaced/lost, never to be seen again. (It is most likely in the same wee hidey-hole as my sanity and my mind.) As human beings are want to do, we hanker after something when it is gone. This dish was concocted from my standard rice pudding recipe and sketchy memory of the one that went missing.

Taking the horse and carriage, I headed out into the dark and grim forest to procure the necessary ‘pimped up ingredients’ of almond milk, rosewater, pistachios and in my opinion, extravagant dried rose petals. To be able to afford these elements, it was first necessary to make a deal with a wicked faerie queen. In classic storybook manner, I agreed to surrender my firstborn when he turned sixteen. (Sucked in stupid faerie, if the last few days have been anything to go by, he will be even less compliant than he has been as a child. If that is even possible.)

This dessert is decadent and creamy with a deep herbal spiciness from the cardamom and highlighted by the sweet floral aroma and flavour of the rose. The Yak and I lived happily ever after for about fifteen minutes whilst we hungrily devoured bowls of this delightful pudding. Now what else can I throw those bloody expensive rose petals over? The End.

RICE PUDDING WITH CARDAMOM, ROSEWATER AND PISTACHIOS

WHAT YOU NEED
1 cup basmati rice
1 litre almond milk (it’s better to use unsweetened if you can find it)
1/3 – 1/2 cup caster sugar (I don’t like it too sweet and how much sugar you need will depend on the almond milk you use)
1/3 cup sultanas
3/4 tsp cardamom powder
Large pinch of salt
1 tsp rosewater
1/4 cup pistachios, roughly chopped
Edible dried rose petals to sprinkle upon said dessert in a bewitching manner, you may need to take a mortgage out to purchase these

HOW YOU DO IT
Rinse the rice.
Place the rice, almond milk, 1/3 cup sugar, sultanas, cardamom and salt into a medium size saucepan. Stir and taste this mixture to see if you need to add more sugar.
Bring the mixture to the boil then reduce to a simmer.
Cook for 20 to 25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until it is thick and porridge-like.
Remove from the heat and stir through the rosewater.
Serve and sprinkle with the chopped pistachios and dried rose petals. Oh, so very pretty.

Note: one of these photos shows a brand name product, rest assured, no payment has been received for this post. Considering the cost, I wish! This also makes a great breakfast dish.

A Cheergerm creation


Gluten free lemon slice

When life gives you lemons.

Make a margarita.

If it’s too early to drink, you could always bake this. I am no gardener but my little Cheergerm heart swelled like a helium balloon at the bumper crop of lemons my mini-citrus tree birthed this year. Each lemon is picked and used with tender loving care and the deep appreciation that using homegrown produce brings. This is a tangy, delicate and deeply delicious treat.

LEMON BARS, GLUTEN FREE

WHAT YOU NEED
For the biscuit base:
125g butter, room temperature
1/4 (40g) cup gf icing sugar mixture
150g gf plain flour
For the lemon topping:
3 eggs, 70g each
1 cup (220g) caster sugar
35g gf plain flour
Zest two lemons, at least 2 tbl, I like a lot of lemon
1/2 cup lemon juice

HOW YOU DO IT
Preheat the oven to 170C fan-forced or 180C conventional.
Grease a 20cm X 20cm non-stick baking pan and cover the base with baking paper, extending the paper over two opposite sides. (This helps in removing the slice once it has cooled.)
For the biscuit base: Beat the butter and icing sugar in a bowl with an electric beater or in your stand mixture, until smooth. Stir in the 150g of gluten free plain flour.
Press this mixture evenly over the base of the prepared pan and bake for approximately 15 minutes or until it has browned slightly. Remove from the oven.
For the lemon topping: Place the eggs, caster sugar, remaining flour, lemon zest and juice into a bowl and whisk until well combined.
Pour this mixture over the prepared base and bake a further 20 minutes or until it is just firm.
Remove from the oven, place on a wire rack and let the slice cool completely in the tin.
Slice into pieces (I cut it into 16 square pieces) and dust with extra icing sugar for decoration.
Not suitable for freezing.

A Cheergerm adaptation of a recipe from the ninemsn website. Link to original recipe follows after photos.

http://food.ninemsn.com.au/recipes/ilemon/8344026/tangy-lemon-squares


Fennel and chickpea soup and he tangata

Soup cravings come on cold days, rainy days and sometimes on days when grief threatens to overwhelm. Soup in its many guises is my ultimate comfort food, bar mashed potato. It is the making and eating that brings a little salve for the soul, if only for a short while.

Our one-of-a-kind Uncle Rodger died a few weeks ago, he made us promise to use the word ‘dead.’ Not ‘passed’ (away, over or under), not ‘left’, not ‘lost’ and not ‘gone’. (As if he had somehow been carelessly misplaced.) I did ask if ‘carked it’ or ‘shuffled off this mortal coil’ were acceptable terminologies. We both had a good laugh at that.

It is difficult choosing words to describe a loved one who has died, my fear is that they may diminish and somehow confine the person you are writing about. Rodger was the strongest of the strong. The best of husbands, fathers, sons, brothers, uncles, friends, mentors and work colleagues. A teacher, therapist, board member of the Frederichs Ataxia Research Association of Australasia (the insidious disease that his three sons are and were afflicted with), an activist for social change and a man who refused to accept the status quo.

Rabidly rugby loving in a ‘shouty at the television’ kind of way, funny, headstrong, story-teller and family history orator. Outdoor adventurer, former Kathmandu model, lover of music, literature and beauty, gourmand, wine and whiskey aficionado. Empathetic and not afraid to cry. Renowned for his ongoing love affair with wood; building things out of it, collecting it, chopping it, admiring it and burning it. (The woodpiles he left are legendary.) This was a man who chose the timber for his own coffin and started to build it until he no longer could. This was a man who chose as his final song at his funeral, the eternally and everlastingly funny Monty Python song ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.’

He fought the foul cancer that took his life with everything he had. His amazing wife is one of the most quietly determined and supportive people you would probably ever hope to meet. They walked side by side in love and joie de vivre as well as in grief. Through the diagnosis of their three beautiful boys disease and the ongoing heartaches it brought, when their oldest son took in own life in his early twenties, through to the Christchurch earthquakes and when Rodger himself was diagnosed. Their spirits however, were never broken despite the ongoing crap that life threw at them.

Rodger was a beacon that always burnt brightly and he will be missed beyond measure. As an Uncle, he was easy to talk to, his puns knew no end and he was always interested in what was going on and what I had to say. One of his favourite sayings was a Maori proverb.

He aha te mea nui o te ao
What is the most important thing in the world?
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata
It is the people, it is the people, it is the people

So, after returning from New Zealand where we got to say goodbye, then celebrate and mourn his remarkable life, I needed soup. This was the soup I made. The chunky chickpea bites, the silky aniseed fennel alongside the slight hum of chilli and thyme is warming and nourishing. (It’s even better the next day.) Rodger would have hated it. He was bloody sick of soup of by the end of his life as it was the only thing he could eat. The cancer he battled, deprived him of eating the food he had always loved.

This soup is not for you Rodger but this post is. Because what truly makes this life worth living is the people, the people, the people.

FENNEL AND CHICKPEA SOUP

WHAT YOU NEED
3 tbl grapeseed or olive oil,
1 medium onion, finely diced
1 large fennel bulb, diced into 2 cm
4 celery stalks, chopped into roughly 2 cm dice
2 carrots, diced into 2cm
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1//4 tsp dried chilli flakes
2 litres vegetable stock
1 litre water
1 tin crushed tomato
800g cooked chickpeas, drained (I used two tins chickpeas.)
1/2 tsp dried thyme (1 tbsp fresh thyme)
2 fresh bay leaves
200g green beans, chopped
Salt and pepper

HOW YOU DO IT
Sauté onions, fennel, celery and carrot for about ten minutes in a large saucepan over a medium heat, until they start to soften.
Add the garlic and chilli and cook for one minute, stirring continually.
Add the stock, water, tomato, chickpeas, thyme and bay leaves. Add a few good grinds of pepper and about a teaspoon of sea salt. (My stock was homemade and did not contain salt, so do not add salt at this point if your stock contains salt.)
Bring the soup to the boil then reduce to a simmer.
Skim off any scummy frothy bits that float to the top.
Cook for about 60-80 minutes until the carrots and fennel are tender, check for seasoning.
Add the green beans and cook for about ten minutes until the beans are just tender and still a bright colour.
Serve in bowls and be comforted. This soup freezes very well.

Cooking Notes: I like this soup with a fair bit of broth so if you prefer a more ‘stew’ like soup, cut back the amount of water you add from 1 litre to 500ml of water.

A Child’s Christmas in Wales and a family celebration

All the little lights

Christchurch Will Rise Again Seafood Chowder

Friedreich Ataxia Research Association


Gluten free weet-bix slice and The Mo Theory

Kid 1 has ‘a moustache theory’. He believes that anyone with a ‘mo’, immediately feels more confident and intimidating than someone without one. Gunna go grow me one….

Until then, the baking goes on, regardless of an outstanding insufficiency of facial hair. My standard weetbix slice uses a creamed butter method but sometimes, you just can’t be arsed bothered with all that malarkey. So a melt and mix slice was required, I had been wanting to use gluten free weetbix for a wee while now. (The Yak was a very happy little coeliac when a certain company started producing these iconic baked breakfast bricks using gluten free sorghum flakes.) This recipe works a treat and is nice and quick.

All of you wheat tolerant out there may be thinking, big whoop. Our Yak is no cry baby and as we all know, far worse things happen than being a coeliac. It’s just that every now and again, he wants to eat something that is as delicious as the original memory of a dish ever was. This is one of those dishes.

Whether ye be coeliac, gluten intolerant or just experimental, ye will not be unhappy. (But if ye are, dont tell me. Well go on, if you really must.)

GLUTEN FREE MELT AND MIX WEETBIX SLICE

WHAT YOU NEED
3 plain gluten-free weetbix
1 3/4 cups gluten-free self-raising flour
1 tbl cocoa powder
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 cup dessicated coconut
125g butter, melted
2 tbl milk

Icing
3/4 cup icing sugar
2 tbl Cocoa powder
50g butter
1 tbl hot water
3 tbl extra dessicated coconut (you can get some super nice organic and sulphur free coconut from health food shops these days.)

HOW YOU DO IT
Preheat the oven to 180C (170C fan-forced) and line a 26cm X 18 cm tin with baking paper.
Crumble the weetbix finely into a large bowl.
Sift over the flour and cocoa.
Stir through the sugar and coconut until all ingredients are combined.
Add the butter and stir then add the milk and stir again until well combined.
Spoon the mixture into the prepared tin and press down firmly (I use my fingers).
Bake for 20-25 minutes.
Allow to cool.
Sift icing sugar and cocoa together into a medium sized bowl. Add the butter then the hot water and stir until runny.
Pour the icing over the cooled slice and spread. Sprinkle the coconut over immediately. Let the icing set then cut the slice into squares.
Makes, well, enough.

A Cheergerm adaptation of a recipe from the Best Recipes website. Link follows.

Footnote: (Or is that ‘thumbnote?) My wrinkly thumb has somewhat of a starring role in these photos, deepest apologies.

http://www.bestrecipes.com.au/recipe/weet-bix-slice-L5572.html


Quinces baked in honey

‘They dined on mince, and slices of quince
Which they ate with a runcible spin
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon. ‘

An excerpt from the lyrical ‘The Owl and the Pussy-cat’ by Edward Lear. This nonsensical poem has always tickled my fancy. From the pea-green boat, the unlikely pairing of a cat and an owl to the mince, quince and runcible spoon. What on earth is a runcible spoon? Conjecture abounds and opinion is varied. (Yes, another hard hitting exposé from the Cheergerm. Not exactly a hot topic on Twitter but it still matters, right?) It is certainly a word that Lear made up and appears in several of his works in different connotations. There is a ‘runcible cat’, a ‘runcible hat’, a ‘runcible goose’ and a ‘runcible wall’.

Some dictionaries define a ‘runcible spoon’ as a fork with three curved tines, or a ‘spork’. In one of his accompanying illustrations, Lear actually drew the ‘runcible spoon’ as more of a ladle. Some believe that it was a spoon designed specifically for babies by one of Edward Lears friends, George Runcy. However, this does not explain the varied use of the word in his other poems. It is most likely a word that Lear invented purely because of the delicious way it sounds and not because it had any real meaning to him.

Quince is my current fruity obsession. This dish is baked long and slow in butter and floral pink-tinged honey, given by a friend. Dark in colour, achingly soft and sweet; you can definitely cut these quince with a spoon. Preferably a runcible spoon.

QUINCES BAKED IN HONEY

WHAT YOU NEED
3 large quinces, washed well
80g butter
4 tbl runny honey
1/4 cup water

HOW YOU DO IT
Preheat the oven to 150C.
Wash the quinces very well. Halve but do not peel the quinces then remove the pips and core each of them with a spoon to make a hollow. (This is not a job for wimps. Be warned.)
Place in a gratin dish that will hold them snugly (unlike mine) and using a third of the butter, grease the dish.
Arrange the quinces, hollow side up. Divide the remaining butter and honey between the hollows and pour water gently around the sides.
Cover the dish with foil and bake for at least 3 hours (denying on the size of the quinces) until they are soft and rich red. (Turn quinces over after 1 1/2 hours.)
Serve hot or warm with hollows filled with the honey juices and with cream, ice-cream , yoghurt or marscapone.

Recipe from The Cooks Companion by Stephanie Alexander , published by Penguins Books, 1996


Chocolate chip biscuits and a hug

It was late and I had been lying next to my twelve year old lad with my arm draped over him. I stood and said good night, exhausted and ready to flop into the sweet comfort of bed and attempt some semblance of sleep.

Kid 2: Mum, could I please just have one more big proper hug?
Me: Oh mate, I just gave you a hug.
Kid 2: But this time I want a proper two-armed hug.
So, I leant down, scooped up his skinny little body and squeezed him hard. Cheek to cheek. I kissed him and told him I loved him.
As I stood to go he spoke these words to me.
‘I am so glad that I have your Mum hugs with me to go into the world. They make me feel strong and loved and special.’

Sometimes, I am grumpy, mean and tired. Sometimes, my children are grumpy, mean and tired. This motherhood gig isn’t always a lark. I am not whinging. I made my choice. I am also fully aware of all those women who have tried to become mothers and couldn’t, of mothers who mourn the loss of a child, of women who become stepmothers and all those in the sisterhood who have simply decided motherhood was not for them. Total respect and love to us all.

In the future, when feeling like everyone wants a piece of me, or the next time my children are feeling much the same way; I will think of the words from my ‘on the cusp of adolescence son’, take a deep breath, open my arms and just hug them.

These biscuits are on regular rotation in our household and are almost as good as a cuddle from a loved one. Using quality dark chocolate and a sprinkle of sea salt elevates them just a little past the ordinary, to the very bloody good. Happy Mother’s Day to all of us mothers, in whatever form that may take.

CHOCOLATE CHIP BISCUITS

125g butter
1/2 cup white caster sugar
1/2 cup soft brown sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla essence (or 1/4 tsp vanilla bean powder)
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 3/4 cups self-raising flour
125g dark chocolate chopped (or 125g chocolate chips)
1 tsp sea salt

Preheat oven to 180C and line two trays with baking paper.
Cream together butter, sugars and vanilla until light and fluffy. (I use a stand mixer for this.)
Add egg gradually, beating well after each addition.
Mix in sifted flour then add the chocolate (or chocolate chips) and stir through well.
I often let this dough rest for half an hour or so before baking but it doesn’t matter if you don’t.
Shape large teaspoons of mixture into balls and place them on a baking tray lined with baking paper. Allow room for some spreading. Sprinkle a little sea salt atop each biscuit.
Bake for 10-12 minutes. Remove the biscuits just as the edges start to colour so they don’t overcook and go too crunchy.
Makes about 15 to 20 biscuits, depending on how large you make them. (The photos in this post contain a double batch of these bikkies. Hence, the large amount.)

A recipe that a friend gave many years ago, slightly adapted.

Go here if you are looking for a gluten free chocolate chip biscuit recipe.


Quince and apple pudding, gluten free

A recent conversation with Kid 1, went like this.

Me: How does it feel to be turning twelve?
Kid 1: Oh, I’m really not that fussed about birthdays. Another year older, another year closer to death.
Me: Wow, that’s a bit of a downer!
Kid 1: Imagine how much worse it would be if I died before I even turned twelve? They could put on my tombstone ‘Kid 1. Never reached puberty.’ Or ‘Never been kissed.’
Kid 2 then chimed in. ‘Or never got a girls phone number. (The back story being that a girl gave him her number when he was a mere six years old. Nothing quite compares to beating your older brother in the romance stakes.)

The good news is that he made it to twelve. His sense of humour and unique view of the world is a constant joy to us. (And keeps us on our toes.) He was a big fan of these aromatic and autumnal wee puddings. The smell of the cooking quince was the musky, heady smell of an orchard full of every ripe fruit you could possibly ever imagine. This golden knobbly produce starts out as rock hard and with slow, gentle cooking, morphs into soft, sweet delectable flavoured fruit with pale pink to deep ruby colour flesh. (The longer and slower it is cooked, the deeper red it becomes.)

Adding a modicum of tart green apple adds a welcome sharpness and when topped off with a subtly spiced gluten free sponge, this is a fabulous wee pudding indeed.

Happy Birthday Kid 1, I promise to make these again for you soon.

QUINCE AND APPLE PUDDING, GLUTEN FREE

WHAT YOU NEED
2 large quinces
1 lemon
1 large Apple, peeled and chopped into 2-3 cm pieces
1 large knob of butter
1 cup water
2 tbl soft brown sugar
Pudding topping
60g butter, room temperature
50g soft brown sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
100g plain gluten free flour
50g ground almonds
2 tsps gf baking powder
1/2 tsp mixed spice
1/4 tsp vanilla bean powder or 1/2 tsp vanilla essence
1/4 cup milk

HOW YOU DO IT
Squeeze the lemon and place in a bowl full of water. Peel and chop the quince into 2-3 cm cubes and place immediately into water, this stops the quince discolouring.
Place the quince, butter, brown sugar and 1/4 of a cup of the water into a medium saucepan. Cook the quince on a low heat for about 30 to 40 minutes, once it starts to soften, add the apple and cook for another 20 minutes until the apple just starts to soften. Check regularly to ensure the water doesn’t dry out, replenish if it does.
Whilst the fruit is cooking. Preheat the oven to 180C and butter six small ramekins or tins or one large 1 litre pie dish.
Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. (Add vanilla essence if using here.)
Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each.
Sift the gluten free flour, almond meal, baking powder, mixed spice and vanilla bean powder.
Fold the flour mixture and milk alternately into the egg mixture to make a soft batter.
Divide the cooked fruit between the tins then cover with the topping.
Bake for 20 to 30 minutes until well risen, firm and golden brown. (A one litre pie dish may take more like 30 minutes.)
Serve hot with cream, ice-cream or yoghurt. Kid 1 also loves them cold for a breakfast treat as well.

A Cheergerm recipe, the sponge batter adapted from a Stephanie Alexander recipe.


Golden Bathurst days

The school holidays were coming to a close and my feet were itchy. (Metaphorically not medically.) So, I decided that a road trip to Bathurst was long overdue. We could visit the old man, Mr Bagpipes. Just me and our two lads. And it would be mega awesome. (In ‘young boy language’.) Autumn had hit and golden poplar leaves glinted like a million tiny gold coins, bedazzling us as we drove by. Conversation revolved around our favourite Lord of the Rings characters and the fanciest cars we had encountered thus far. All set against a musical backdrop of the Gaelic clan Capercaille, a drop of Chris Izaac and part of the soundtrack to my youth, Split Enz.

We arrived safe and sound and celebrated with a tasty lunch at The Hub, involving roast mushrooms, buffalo mozarella and parsnip chips. Afterwards, an obligatory ice-cream for the boys from the iconic institution that is Annie’s Old-fashioned Ice-cream Parlour. Church bells ring regularly in this old town, reverberating closely off sandstone walls and reminding us that we are no longer in a big city. The weather is strangely warm and balmy and we enjoyed the gentle stroll into town for dinner. Our destination was the artfully converted place of worship, the Church Bar and Woodfired Pizza. We sang songs of praise to the beautifully crispy based pizzas. And slept well that night at Dad’s abode.

Next day, sunny skies again and a visit to Bathurst wouldn’t be complete without morning tea at Legall. The goodness that is French patisserie set us up nicely for further adventures. (Involving the mandatory toffee choux and lemon tart.) We were wowed by the amazing collection of vintage cars at the the National Motor Racing Museuem, located at the foot of the iconic Mt Panorama racing track. Dad then popped into to his place of employment to do a spot of work. My sons and I visited the War Memorial, being on the cusp of Anzac Day and enjoyed a meander in the ornamental 19th century parks. Back at Dads,’ the whipper snippers read real-life books whilst I cooked up a big pot of my restorative vegetable soup for Pa, freezing a few portions as well.

As we were on an eating tour of Bathurst, dinner that night was at Tommy’s. We happily consumed ribs, hotdogs and burgers the size of a small boys head. The grown ups may have partaken in a jug of Tommy’s margarita mix. But that can neither be confirmed or denied.

Friday morning arrived and the weather gave way to the impending bleakness of winter. After one more quick visit to Legall (pastries are actually good for you dontcha know), we bid farewell to Mr Bagpipes. Naturally, thanking him elegantly for his kind hospitality. For a last hurrah, the wee lads and myself trotted off to the Australian Fossil and Mineral Museum to see the Supercroc touring exhibition. Modelled off the fossilised bones of a prehistoric crocodile found in the Saraha desert, this behemoth was over 13 meters long. All three of us were glad that it was now extinct. We oohed and aahed over various brilliantly coloured precious and semi-precious minerals. As well as honest-to-goodness fossils, including a life sized T-Rex replica. Roar.

Like the poplar trees lining the roads to and from Bathurst and the precious stones at the Mineral museum, these days are golden. Time taken to once again reconnect to my children will hopefully hold us all in good stead in the busy weeks ahead. We also got to eat a whole lot of damn fine food and clap eyes on Mr Bagpipes in his natural environment. And that ain’t half bad. In fact it’s, gold.

http://www.churchbar.com.au
https://www.nmrm.com.au
http://www.somervillecollection.com.au
http://www.tommysbx.com
http://www.visitnsw.com/destinations/country-nsw/bathurst-area?nst=0&gclid=COm_6KvRpswCFQJwvAodDBsOtw&gclsrc=aw.ds

Desperate to read more Bathurst posts from the Cheergerm?
Back to Bathurst and a spot of Tex-Mex
Shadow sisters and the Apple Bar
Bathurst and bagpipes