I am positive some of this will turn your stomach and other bits make you salivate but I think its time to steer clear of life endangerment and focus on what I like. Food wise I mean.
My earliest recollections of really really loving food was at my grandmother's house in Seaforth on Sydney's north shore. My dad's mum and dad can only be described as the best grandparents in the world. He was an artist and she a white haired champion of the kitchen. Whilst on visits there, we would be in the back room (Grandpa's studio) and draw and paint to our hearts content. We would use old topographical maps to play Mr Squiggle with him. He'd deftly join some random lines and then turn the page around to show a galloping horse. He was a happy and engaging old man that did the best kookaburra impression ever. Whilst we were drawing, the smells from grandma's kitchen would waft through and if there was that one smell I knew, it was toad in the hole. Big Fat Juicy sausages cooked in batter in the oven. It sounds simple enough but I could never get enough of it. Grandma was able to have the batter crisp and golden on the top whilst underneath the fluffy dough cradled the sausages and was just so divine. It was Oliver all over with me holding up a licked clean plate begging for 'more please'. As a grown up, I would tell my wife about this dish and then one day decided to try it myself. I didn't have Grandma's recipe but that's what google is for. Lets agree that's not what google is for. The fat exuding from the sausages during the cooking squelched its way to the top of the batter mixture and then as the batter cooked and tiny air pockets of fluff began to grown, the oil diffused into these pockets. It was inebible. I would go back and spell that word correctly but it was that bad It needs a new word to describe it. I have never revisited that but should one day.
My love of food continued throughout my life and I have been fortunate enough to eat in some of the finest restaurants Sydney had to offer. I leave out Brisbane in this class because they just don't get it yet. I have tried most of them here but they fall short almost every time. Lure at Milton is the exception actually. Sydney's Level 41, Banc and Edna's table all provided such astonishingly good meals, I found it hard to believe they used the same ingredients as me.
I have had god knows what in Korea (they promised it wasn't dog) and had the best Peking Duck EVER EVER EVER next to Tiananmen Square in Beijing. If there is a flavour to savour, I am the first in line.
I cook now and love it. I am not a desert cook at all but can quite easily do a savoury and it be nice to eat. I do insist on music whilst I cook though. Music is what makes the world make sense to me. As you know by now, my control freak nature dictates I do the vast majority of grocery shopping so that I can picture the weeks meals in my head as I browse the shelves seeking inspiration. I like to cook and freeze multiple meals when I get a chance, as our busy week nights gives very limited opportunity to cook. If anyone wants to suggest a dish, feel free.
Given I love what could be described as exotic tastes, cardamon, asparagus, duck are all favourites, my 'go to' meal, the one that I have to make everything all right, the meal that screams 'eat me' before I've finished it (and the meal that makes most people cringe) is fresh crusty bread, a scrapping of peanut butter, sliced banana and then topped off with the one ingredient that is in my chromosomes. This particular substance has been in my pantry from the day I left home and suspect will be there when I die. It is quite simply the nectar of the gods. Sweetened Condensed Milk. Oh.....My....God... Whatever was the name of the woman that first made this? It has to be a woman because it is so luxurious and velvety smooth, no man could ever think of such a thing. The only other person that I know of that shares this love is the man child. And yes, I have to hide the opened cans from him behind the lettuce in the fridge. It's for his own good you see.
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