Starman

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‘The Camping Collective’ does not starve. As time went on, two peeps undertook a trip to the local Seafood Co-op. The mighty hunters returned with a glorious ocean bounty. (Via the refrigerators of the Co-Op.) They had procured plump Sydney rock oysters, a slurpy minerally mouthful that we topped with a squeeze of lemon. A motza of green local prawns in their shells were tossed in oil, seasoned and barbecued. It was no hardship to partake in one of two of these juicy crustaceans. The icing on this seafood cake was a school of uber fresh flathead. Sister 4 lightly tossed these glistening beauties in seasoned cornflour (necessity is the mother of all invention) and they fried up a treat on the flat grill of the barbecue. Lip smackingly sweet and juicy.

Vegetables were also consumed. Crunchy green salads, coleslaw and one of our number made a simple white cabbage dish that hearkened back to her childhood. It was very finely sliced then dressed with lashings of lemon juice, olive oil and salt and pepper. Simply moreish.

Whilst we love to cook on our camping holidays it is a welcome relief to eat out and more importantly, not wash up. There was a lovely feed at Thai On the Rocks, we sat outside in balmy surrounds, sipping icy cold rose and perusing the vast menu. One of my favourite dishes was a deliciously creamy chicken panang and The Yak raved about a gigantic plate of stir-fried vegetables with chilli.

After our meal, sans kidlets, some of us sneaked off for a delicious post dinner gin and tonic at the Seabreeze Hotel. During dinner, we had found out that the marvellous David Bowie, the iconic Ziggy and Starman, had succumbed to the cursed cancer that has taken so many. His music speaks for itself and as an actor, he shone in ‘Labyrinth’ and ‘Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence’. We were all admirers or fans but Sister 3, perhaps, loved him the most. Over our icy cold drinks, we toasted his passing. His loss ominously highlighted the ongoing health battle of one of our nearest and dearest. And the cut was deeper. That evening, gazing at a crystal clear night sky, I imagined that I whispered ‘Farewell beautiful Starman, you really blew my mind.’

An early morning beach walk along hard sands and by azure waters to Trial Bay was rewarded with breakfast at the Trial Bay Kiosk and Licensed Restaurant. The Yak and I both had the haloumi stack with pesto, spinach and poached eggs topped with avocado. Mine was perched atop a crunchy slice of sourdough rye and The Yaks was served with gluten free toast. The Yak headily proclaimed this one of the best breakfasts he had ever eaten. Mine was very tasty, despite feeling slightly ripped off by the tiny amount of avocado. The coffee here is velvety, rich and smooth, I have no idea what their brand of coffee was. Shamefully, this Cheergerm will never make it to the lofty echelons of a true hipster.

Towards the end of our last week, we booked dinner at the Seabreeze Hotel where the food impressed and delighted. My linguine with prawns, chilli and basil was seriously good. Fat juicy prawns, perfectly cooked pasta and just a nice backbite of heat. The night was topped off by The Polish Stepfather winning a nice big meat tray. A true Aussie tradition.

More than anything, my hope is that camping provides our children with the experience of a simplified existence, of learning to be part of a communal group, to compromise and co-operate. To forgo television and play card games again. To dive into frothy waves unfettered by the multiple trappings of everyday life. This Australia Day, whilst I will be present wherever I am, a small section of my heart and mind will be back in South West Rocks. Enjoying the truly egalitarian pleasures of this vast nations amazing beaches and natural beauty.

http://www.seabreezebeachhotel.com.au

http://www.trialbaykiosk.com.au

http://www.visitnsw.com/destinations/north-coast/kempsey-area/south-west-rocks?nst=0&gclid=CO-b07HfwcoCFUosvQod7gcM3A&gclsrc=aw.ds

Stopped

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Cicada’s buzz, the heat shimmers on the tents and children play endless rounds of Uno.

The rain has left and summer is once more upon us.  Twenty eight degree days allow for fun filled beach activities and the evenings are cool enough for  sleep.

Sets of white tipped waves swell and crash against us, they are stronger than they look. Ice-creams and potato cakes from the Horseshoe Bay Kiosk rule the day.

Our camping collective eat well. Whether it be a slow roasted shoulder of lamb, a myriad of crunchy corn fritters , carnival coloured coleslaw, a mound of roast potatoes or fresh white bread rolls laden with bacon and egg.

Time slows and it is good to just stop.

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Back to Bathurst and a spot of Tex-Mex

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Restlessness and a modicum of discontent sat curled, viper like, in the depths of my belly. We were nearing the end of the first week of the lads two week school holidays. A last minute opportunity arose to visit Mr Bagpipes, aka the father figure. He is currently house sitting a large ex-vineyard property ten minutes outside of old Bathurst. It felt darned good to pack up and get the heck outta Dodge. A chance for familial reconnection far from the maddening crowd in the country air and wide open spaces.

Before we hit the property, we popped into Legall Patisserie for some takeaway pastries, including of course, my favourite toffee choux. I am marginally grateful for my ever expanding ice-cream pants that this joint is not around the corner from home and is relegated to the less often occurring Bathurst visits.

Finally we arrive at the country house and life was good again. Marshmallow clouds, Pinot grapes withering on the vine, tiny wagtail birdies and a family of unseen foxes near the adorably sized dam. Leaves turning to autumn and unseasonably warm weather welcomed us, it was a holiday weekend indeed. Elvis the dogger was quite overwhelmed by the open spaces. We scoffed the pastries for arvo tea then did a bit of exploring. Dinner was a quick noodle stir fry hungrily consumed before we all collapsed happily into our beds.

Saturday morning brought more Legall pastry and a very good Fish River coffee enjoyed in the stunningly autumnal Machattie Park. A spot of shop perusal followed, finishing at Annie’s for a kiddy ice-cream treat. Back at the house, Kid 1 slept exhaustedly on the couch for a record two hour nap. Daylight savings and a growth spurt have made him hungry and moody. The spectre of pre-adolescence hovers over him, prophesising of things to come. Sleep beautiful lad, sleep. This Mumma was able to contentedly read before the Yak and I hoofed up and down the one kilometre driveway. We couldn’t afford not to, there was further eating to be done.

Saturday night sneaked up on and us and we found ourselves (after booking at the last minute), at the relatively new Tommy’s, Tex-Mex food joint in Bathurst town. We walked into what appears to be a dodgy hole in the wall and happily arrive in a cool, candle dripping entry way. This space screamed Mexican Day of the Dead and we were warmly welcomed by the service staff. Tommy’s has a laid back, understated hipster vibe going on. The menu is a marvellous combination of man-food and classic Mexican faves with a modern twist.

For starters, we greedily ordered two serves of the perfectly crispy fried onion rings and coleslaw along with a jug of ice cold margarita. After a good gander at the menu, three of us decided upon the baby back pork ribs that had been marinated in charred chorizo and served with corn and garlic bread. The Yak ordered the vegetarian nachos and Kid 2, despite strong persuasion, simply chose the shoestring fries. Don’t ask for the ribs marinade, in the tried and true saying, it is top secret. And those ribs my friend, as that overplayed hit 90’s song went, ‘I would walk 500 miles, just to get a bite of those falling off the bones, unctuous meaty delights .’ (Well, it kind of went like that.) All three of those ribs plates were licked clean.

Other delicious sounding menu choices included the Tijuana big dog and the Austin Texas hamburger. There were also some tasty sounding smaller bites to choose from such as jalapeño poppers, empanadas and corn chips with pico de gallo. The Yak enjoyed the myriad levels of flavours and toppings on his nachos, which were cutely served in a cardboard box. (An inspired idea to avoid a messy cleanup later.)

Back to the vineyard, we delighted in the clear as a bell night sky, children pointing out the Southern Cross, Orion’s Belt and the Milky Way swathed across the black velvet. The pip peep of frogs was the only sound, you just don’t get that in the city.

Sunday morning, children still asleep at 7.15 (unheard of) I lay and listened to, well, not much. A snoring dogger, the occasional slumberous murmur from the boys and my own contentment. Upon awakening, I was jumped upon by two laddies, morning snuggles from ferocious dragons who threaten to rip out my guts and still beating heart. Raising boys, a continuing dichotomy of sweetness and blood curdling violence.

As we left, the sproglets shouted goodbye to the sentinel guard alpaca, they have named Mr Banana, who watches sternly over the sheep in neighbouring fields. Then we headed off to The Hub for breakfast. (Again we booked, the people in this town know what is good and you will not always get in on a weekend if you are not prepared. On saying that, always try to get in, you never know your luck.)

The Yak and I couldn’t say no to the Glaswegian potato pancakes served with smoked salmon, poached eggs, cream cheese and hollandaise. (Spinach for the Yak of course.) This dish was The Boss. The creamy sauces were the perfect foil to the potato, it was rich but worth every bite. The Hub coffee was as always, marvellous. Smooth and rich as a royal. Other enticing sounding menu plates were the dukkah boiled eggs and a brekkie salad with chimichurri sauce, roasted tomatoes, almonds and poached eggs (amongst other things.)

Farewelling Mr Bagpipes, we popped back in the car, feeling refreshed, renewed and rather full. Can’t complain about that. Hasta la vista Bathurst.

https://www.facebook.com/anniesbathurst

https://www.facebook.com/LegallPatisserieCafe

http://www.tommysbx.com.au

https://www.facebook.com/tommys.

https://www.facebook.com/thehubbathurst

http://www.visitnsw.com/destinations/country-nsw/bathurst-area?gclid=CLC2xd6F_8QCFU-VvQodtm0A8w

http://www.bathurst.nsw.au

http://www.bathurst-nsw.com/machattie.html

https://cheergerm.com/2014/07/20/bathurst-and-bagpipes/

https://cheergerm.com/2014/08/24/shadow-sisters-and-the-apple-bar/

Shades of Orange

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Over Easter, the Yak, kidlets and myself enjoyed a family sojourn with Dad (Mr Bapgpipes) and his partner, the divine Ms N, in the beautiful countryside of Orange, breathing clean air and looking at big skies.

Orange is located about 3 1/2 hours from Sydney in Western NSW. Fertile soil in this region produces quality fruits, wine, beef and lamb. Orange has become somewhat of a country foodie Mecca for those who enjoy the delights of the table.

We were lucky to stay a few kilometres outside of Orange on about five acres of property. Ms N, was housesitting a gorgeous homestead that also had a little cottage attached. The home was a glorious blend of old and new and spoke of both the past and the present.

Scattered throughout the garden were ancient cold climate trees and shrubbery, lovingly highlighted by artistic touches in places you least expected them. Two fantastic dogs, a miniature pony, bunny rabbit and loads of running space. What else could two small lads (and parents) want?

Friday was a day of relaxation, a lunch of warming lentil soup cooked by Ms N and a slap up lasagna for dinner. Snuggling up under winter weight doonas in the chill, still quiet of the night was a balm for our weary, urbanised souls. Early morning cuddles with little boys who will soon grow out of such nonsense. I stroked their soft faces and clasped their warm little hands, baby fat has melted away into the leaner bodies of small children. If I close my eyes I can still see the chubby legs and starfish hands of their babyhood.

Saturday consisted of morning coffee at the very cool Agrestic Cafe in a renovated old mill. The food looked great but we opted for a coffee only, which took a little while to arrive. One of the sproglets ordered a very delicious, certainly homemade banana bread, served with the most scrumptious handmade pat of butter.

Alongside this hip bustling place was a nifty little grocery selling a variety of local produce. We purchased some pretty little bunches of heirloom carrots and an award winning local feta cheese. As foodie gifts, some local pistachios, chemical free sultanas and spices also fell into the ‘take home basket’. There were local wines, olive oils, olives and vinegars to choose from as well as an abundance of local fresh fruit and veg.

Coffee cravings satiated, we took off for a hoon around Orange and up Mt Canoblas. The views from this extinct volcano were fantastic. Autumn leaves were just beginning to turn and vines were starting to change colour. Much needed recent rain meant the hills were covered in a swathe of emerald green grass. All this fresh air and natural beauty was starting to put the zing back in our zang.

Mr Bagpipes had booked a table for lunch at the Sisters Rock (yes they do) restaurant at Borrodell Vineyard. Plopped on the side of Mt Canoblas, this stunningly idyllic rustic restaurant looks out over vineyards and farmlets. The boys were happy with the children’s menu and us grown ups were more than happy with our choices.

Ms N and I gobbled up pithivier’s (posh for pie) of leeks and mushrooms with a tomato salsa and balsamic reduction. Mr Bagpipes has been on a venison roll lately, oh dear. (Sorry). He heartily enjoyed a loin of venison that was cleverly paired with a Borrodell red wine and plum spiced syrup . The Yak chowed down on a sinful twice cooked cheese soufflé with sides of asparagus and walnut butter as well as hand cut chips with lemongrass mayonnaise. This cheergerm dreamily sipped on a delicious glass of the Borrodel sparkling wine whilst plotting ways of moving out to the country.

Orange town itself comprises of traditionally wide Australian country streets, lined with trees in various autumnal shades. Beautiful heritage houses and buildings abound. Fantastic looking shops (closed due to Easter, ‘thank goodness!’ cried the Yak) and bountiful cafés and restaurants, enough to satisfy the hungriest visitor.

The rest of our time consisted of Easter eggs hunts, devouring chocolate, small boys climbing and playing, reading, cooking and walking. I watched our giggling lads swing from a rope ladder attached to a magnificent oak tree and tucked this memory into my heart. These days really are the best days of our lives and sometimes it’s easy to look past the simple moments of joy.

Sadly, holidays must come to an end. Farewells were said as little boys hugged doggers, horses and people that they had spent special time with.

A big thanks to Ms N for her delightful hospitality and the big box of Fuyu persimmons we took back from the property. These round little fruits are reminiscent of a Renoir still life painting. Having tasted one, the astringency quite knocked my socks off. The next fruit tasted was over ripe and mushy (almost gelatinous, my least favourite food texture). However, the actual flavour was quite nice. Mildly sweet, almost like a soft banana (that isn’t a banana), mayhaps a persimmon cake will eventuate in the near future, once they ripen more.

The heirloom carrots and feta ended up as part of Easter lunch, keep your eyes peeled for the next post.

For now, I leave you with a few images our country sojourn.

http://orangepost.com.au/the-agrestic-grocer-agrarians-orange/

http://www.borrodell.com.au/restaurant

http://www.visitorange.com.au