Food for Thought

It's only two and a half weeks to the BrisStyle Mother and Child Market and once again panic sets in.  So much fabric - so little time. 

Apart from my usual clothing and accessories, I will have my world famous Hot Fudge Choc Fudge all packaged up to give away with every sale.  Grown men have wept, so don't miss out!  If I can raise the sugar levels of every child at the market, then my work will be done.

There will be so much to experience at the market - lots of dancing and singing, fabulous music , face painting, colouring-in contests, sausage sizzle, and much, much more. 

We are supporting the Mater Hospital's charity Chicks in Pink and their team will be on site to help raise awareness for breast cancer.  The whole site will be a sea of pink, with pink balloons, yarn bombed trees and many other surprises.
























Did I mention the pink fairy?

She will be there handing out balloons, waving her magic wand and generally enchanting the little children.  See you at St Augustine's Grounds and Hall, Racecourse, Hamilton between 9.00am and 2.00pm.

Speaking of food, my brother sent me this item by columnist Richard Glover of the Sydney Morning Herald.  The newspaper's foodie bible, The Good Food Guide is just out and here is Richard's contribution. 

The Good Food Guide is out and so is this column’s alternative guide, the So-So Food Guide, a compendium of the places at which most of us eat. Perhaps you have supped at some of the places featured this year.

The Royal Arms Hotel Chicken Kiev: If you want to know the secret of this operation, you need look no further than the chest freezer centrally located in the breezeway between the men’s lavvy and the hotel laundry. In here, you will find all manner of produce, suspended in a frost-induced slumber, awaiting the awakening touch of the hotel’s microwave. A barman shouts heartily through the open door of the kitchen — ‘‘three chicken kievs, please’’ — and, with that, Gina extinguishes her cigarette and springs into action, padding out into the breezeway, deftly swinging open the lid and peering into the stygian gloom. Disaster stalks every professional chef and Gina is no different. There’s always a chance that, in the dark, her hand will settle on a frozen chicken parmigiana or even an ice-encrusted salt and pepper squid. But not this time. Three kievs are located, stripped of their plastic coating, placed into the microwave, and emerge just minutes later, a curlicue of steam rising elegantly from each. Served with a schooner of icy cold ale, the meal is as perfect as can be reasonably expected at the Royal Arms.


The Central Bowling Club All-You-Can-Eat Buffet: Many three-hat restaurants declare themselves fans of sustainability but few pursue that goal with the ardour of the Central Bowling Club. One large piece of bargain steak can be a roast dinner on Monday, the makings for mongolian beef on Tuesday and — in a startling indication of the chef’s transformative skills — the basis for a sichuan chicken by Wednesday. Feel free to leave some of the chicken on your plate: by the time you return tomorrow it will somehow be part of the apricot crumble.


The Work Canteen: The Slow Food movement is all the rage and food certainly couldn’t get any slower than this. With only three people on staff — including Terry, who has never really been the same since the operation — there’s bound to be a deeply restorative wait for food. Luckily, entertainment is provided while you wait, with a lively banter of blame and recrimination as the staff shout abuse at one another, screeching, ‘‘Who’s got the pepper grinder,’’ and yelling, ‘‘I told you we needed more paper bags.’’ At $6.50 a sandwich, the prices may seem steep for a subsidised canteen but not when you factor in the free show.


That Italian Place: Every night is pasta night at That Italian Place. Chef Sam has been headhunted from his previous establishment, a plumbing supply business in Tempe. He recommends the spaghetti bolognese (for those who like regional flavours), and the spaghetti marinara (for those with a strong constitution).

Bon appetit!