MY LONG, LONG, LONG, LONGEST TABLE

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my longest table

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away… A girl named Bree had a life changing experience that could only be described as divine intervention.

In my early twenties, I decided to move to Scotland.
Even though, until this point I was camping out on a friend’s floor in London, and had before then been travelling around Mexico with nothing but an oversized back pack… Man, I had a lot of stuff.
I mean, a freakin LOT.
How I’d accumulated so much, is beyond me, it’s absolutely the bane of my husband’s existence these days that I’m truly incapable of ever travelling light.
I had with me, my (huge) backpack, 4 extra travel bags (WTF?) and my all, important handbag which I clung to for dear life, as within its tan suede satchel interior lay my passport, wallet, camera and pretty much every other important document or personal item that ordinarily at home, would lie within a deadlocked safe.

Anyhoo, two of my good friends had just arrived into London town and we were due to fly to Edinburgh the following day.
My good friend who I was staying with, Gemma, was hot-tailing it to Canadian shores, so the three of us were off to stay with another friend on the other side of London for the evening.

1 bus, 2 tubes and 1 taxi later…
We arrive at our destination.
As I reach for my handbag to pay my share of the Taxi, I have a major heart palpitation when I realize that in the throngs of all the bags I’d just shipped from the North to the South…
Where the hell is my handbag?
OH. MY. GOD!
We set about tearing the Taxi to pieces.
After checking, then checking again, then checking one last time, we realize… my bag is not in this vehicle, and furthermore could now be just about anywhere in London.
Ok, I tell myself, stay calm. Get the hell back to the station, it’s probably there…
No. It wasn’t.
I remember standing in the station. The walls were closing in on me. Panic Attack.
How. Could. This. Happen…? Just breathe…

We return to our friend’s house, where I immediately fall into a heap and have the most major meltdown of my life.
I was inconsolable.
My friends did not know what to do. They stood there helpless, watching me with wide eyes, never before seeing me like this and wondering what the hell we were going to do.
In a moment of sheer desperation, especially considering I’ve never been religious… I dropped to my knees and screamed to the Heavens…

“Dear God, if you do indeed exist. PLEASE return my belongings to me… I will do anything. I will dedicate myself to charity and helping mankind! I swear it!!”

Literally 30 seconds later (this is not a word of a lie) the phone rang…
In my handbag, I had a little Casio organizer with all of my important phone numbers in it (No, I didn’t have a mobile… much to everyone’s annoyance).
On the line, was the mother of a good friend in Adelaide.
She was calling on behalf of the station master at Shepherds Bush.
Apparently my bag had made its way on a fantastical journey around London and had taken up residence on a tube where, fresh from the horrors of 911, an unmanned handbag (even one that was as desirable looking as this) was considered a threat and therefore out of the hundreds of passengers that had been in its midst, there was not a single one who was game enough to unzip it and investigate the contents.

My belongings had been returned.
My friends (and I…) were in a state of disbelief.
One of them, Kirsty, looked at me intensely, and after exclaiming that she actually could not believe how lucky I was… proceeded to deliver a very stern warning…
“Bree, you better make good on your promise.”

I swore there and then, that I would.

Fast forward 12 years.
I am now living what I would describe as a very fortuitous life. I’m a lucky one.
I have my health, I have an amazing, loving family and I have just won one of the biggest cooking competitions in Australia.
I have been supporting a number of charities for years, but now I actually, really feel like I can make a difference. I want to make a difference.

What has totally blown my mind though, is just how many others out there also want to make a difference.
I am not alone, and it makes me love humans even more than I already did.
This world is a beautiful place with a lot of very beautiful people in it.

Once I signed on for ‘The Longest Table’ I realized pretty, damn quickly, that I could not do it alone.
I did not know where to start though, having never organized an event like this. I wanted it to be a success, and all I knew, in order for this to happen, I would be relying on other individuals to open their hearts and donate what they could to this amazing cause.

I called my friend Jo. She and her husband Adrian own and operate a catering company called G-Spit.
You might remember Jo from ‘MKR Season 4’.
I’m telling you now, Adrian and Jo’s spits are the best charcoal BBQ’s you will ever encounter. Even Manu, the French God himself has one, because the charcoaled meat that they produce is seriously, next to Godliness.
They were immediately ready to help. They wanted to help.

Adrian and Jo were not only willing to donate a spit and the charcoal we required for the evening, cook it for me and donate a batch of their amazing seasonings to my auction, but they also had a friend Maria at Murray Valley Pork, who Adrian was going to contact on my behalf to see if they would also be willing to lend a helping hand.

They were.
Maria got on board and donated two massive pork shoulders, so we could have something truly divine on the menu… Porchetta Burgers. Droooool.
Murray Valley Pork is a humane company.
They produce Sow Stall free Pork.
This may mean all or nothing to you, but think of it this way… Pigs have the mentality of a 3 year old child.
Would you trap a 3 year old child for the entire length of his life in a steel cage where he can’t move and sleeps on a concrete floor in his own excrement?
No? Didn’t think so.
We all should think about the Pork on our fork and support the companies and businesses that support more humane practices.
If we are going to farm these beautiful animals, we need to show them the respect and love they deserve.

But, we couldn’t stop at that. We can’t have Portuguese Chicken burgers, without the chicken…

I got in touch with the kindhearted Cassi from Lilydale Chicken who happily donated 8kgs of beautiful thigh meat for the spit.
As you can probably already tell from my previous rant, I’m a big believer in free range and high welfare meat.
I’ve personally been a Lilydale customer for years.
Their products are delicious, and free from nasty added hormones, but there is also much less guilt associated with eating a happy bird that spends its entire life roosting and roaming freely, as nature intended.

So, Pork, tick… Chicken, tick… but, you can’t have a burger without the bread.

I contacted our good friends at Bakers Delight and the amazingly generous Richard from my local Bakers Delight store at Happy Valley, did not think twice about getting onboard.
Richard donated 100 assorted bread rolls as well as extra pull-apart’s and sweet dessert breads.
When I arrived to collect my bounty, the rolls were still hot, fresh from leaving the oven. They were baked especially for my event.
And, when I left the store with my overloaded trolley full of bread, I got a little misty eyed just thinking of the kindness that this event was bringing to my life, straight from the hands of others.

I knew I needed more though. For what is a burger without salads and sauces? Or for that matter, a meal without Starters and Desserts?

I made the trip into my local Drakes Foodland at Aberfoyle Park.
The Manager Mark, was immediately at the ready to lend a helping hand.
I was bequeathed a gift voucher that would more than cover, the cost of any extra groceries I required to feed the hungry masses that would soon be at my door.
The generosity was astounding to me.

So, now we had the food covered, hmmmm… I need to get my guests drunk.
Please don’t get me wrong, I’m a responsible host.
But, when you’re running an event where the whole aim is to get your guests to loosen their purse strings… alcohol is your best friend.

My good friend Ian from Cellarbrations Prospect immediately got on the case.
Literally.
He donated several mixed cases of wine and Coopers Pale Ale beer and then set about making numerous phone calls to his beverage associates to get them on the case too.
He dropped the booty over on Friday night with a box full of wine glasses too. No plastic at this event, we’re living in luxury with glass!

My amazing, life-long friends Megan and Josh, who own and operate the Marion Bay Tavern, were not only guests at the event and already charitable donors to the cause, but they too arrived on the evening with 2 cases of amazing wines and bubbly’s, straight from their cellar.
Megsy was my Mexican travelling partner in crime and now she and her awesome hubby are my ever generous partners in charity. I love you guys so much!

Then, out of the blue… a voice calls my name.
I am busy cleaning my front windows (for who wants guests over with dirty windows…? Not, I.) When the amazing Fleur from The Hills Cider Company arrives on my step.
She is personally delivering 4 cases of their amazingly delicious cider to me (even though she definitely has more pressing engagements… like buying wedding shoes).
I’m in heaven; this is one of my favourite cider drops.
The Pear cider they produce is like biting into a crispy Corella, it’s a flavour explosion in every sip.
I hope your special day was awesome Fleur, many happy returns! X

I also made a phone call to my good friends Deb and Rick (you would know them as Naughty Nan and her ever patient and kindhearted husband).
Rick works for Lion Co. and he was immediately willing to donate 5 cases of Boags for my event. Not the regular stuff either… No, No. We were getting Premium.
Rick and Deb are both truly charitable people, and downright legends. Thank you both from the bottom of my heart.

So, now we have the food and drink sorted, we need tables and chairs.
I can’t very well hold an event without seating… can I?
I made a call to the amazing peeps at Blackwood Hire. This is a locally owned and operated company, and they generously donated, chairs, ice-buckets and an extra-large table without hesitation.
They also had kind words for me, they loved Jess and I on MKR and were so happy we won.
In my mind, these wonderful people are the true winners here.
I’m telling you, the generosity of these individuals and companies has truly knocked me off my feet.

So there I am, thinking to myself… how else (other than feeding them till they burst and showering them with more alcohol than an Adelaide Oval footy match) can I extract as much money as humanly possible from my 50 odd guests…?
I know, I’ll hold an Auction.
And, an extra special mention has to go to our amazing friend Nick for being the auction master to end all auction masters. You’ve found your calling my love…

I contacted my two amazing, food mentors and seriously super-awesome guys… Pete and Manu.
They were both immediately willing to lend a hand. And they each donated a signed copy of their latest cookbook for my auction.

Ian from Cellarbrations Prospect, also donated 2 magnums of wine. I had an amazing donation of an Edible Blooms hamper as well.
These wine and hamper items within themselves managed to fetch $360.00 for cancer research. Holy hell!

The amazing peeps at Coopers Brewery donated a merchandise hamper filled with all sorts of awesome stuff and a super, cool magnum of limited edition Sparkling Ale.

I contacted my friend Tom from the Adelaide Football Club and he so kindly and generously donated a Sherrin Crows footy with the signatures of this year’s Coach and Captain.
I’m telling you now, after their awesome showdown efforts this Sunday… that’s a hot ticket item. Carn’ the Crows!

Our good friend Damian from Stratco, arranged a $200.00 gift voucher to be used at any Stratco store.
Amusingly, my husband Cory purchased this item on the night for $199.00.

While Cory was at our local Mitre10 in Aberfoyle Park, he casually mentioned to the owner about the event we were hosting and the cause it was supporting, and they immediately got on board.
I was not expecting my husband to walk through the door with a Gasmate Area Heater for my auction… but he did.
The generosity of strangers is seriously starting to overwhelm me.

My wonderful family friend Matthew Seagrim, from Brighton Cars donated a huge Rolling Stones Painting as well as an even huger amount of money (as he was quite often the highest bidder, as well as hilariously subject to outbidding himself…).
Actually, come to think of it, this happened quite a lot with a few other people too…

Note to everyone: To hold a truly successful auction, make sure you get your bidders seriously tanked beforehand.

The purchaser of this Rolling Stones picture (which actually fetched a pretty penny) my other amazing family friend and my second dad, Peter Rae from 747 Motors also donated two cases of wine for everyone to drink and a magnum of Red wine to Auction.

Our good friend Ash from Stanvac Auto Wreckers got on the phone and arranged a $200 service or repairs voucher from our great friends at Reynella Hyundai.

Our other good friend Whitey arranged a $100.00 paint voucher from our friends at PPG Protec.

My seriously amazing husband Cory, who not only helped me in every way possible to prepare for this event, also donated a $500.00 discount off any re-gutter or re-roof for the lucky highest bidder, courtesy of our own business Mayline Roofing.

And, I have to say I was quite blown away at how much my friends were actually willing to pay for me to prepare a 3 course menu and cook it for 12 of them on a night of their choosing…

All in all, between these amazingly generous people and businesses, and the awesome family and friends that helped me support ‘The Longest table’, on this night we managed to raise 6K for Cancer research.

Six Thousand Dollars!!

I cannot thank you all enough, every single one of you means the world to me and all I can say is this…
This event would never have happened without the help of my friends. Please support the businesses that are here supporting us.
Cancer affects every single one of us, but we can actually make a difference.
I dream of a world without this terrible disease… do you?
Until the next event… Bree xxx

https://www.thelongesttable.com.au/

http://www.g-spit.com.au/home/

http://murrayvalleypork.com.au/Home.aspx

http://freerangechicken.com.au/

https://www.facebook.com/BakersDelightHappyValley

https://www.foodlandsa.com.au/internet/store-locator.html

http://www.cellarbrations.com.au/store-locator/sa/cellarbrations-at-prospect/

http://www.marionbaytavern.com.au/

http://www.thehillscidercompany.com.au/

http://lionco.com/

http://www.blackwoodhire.com/

http://www.peteevans.com.au/

http://manufeildel.com.au/

http://www.edibleblooms.com.au/

http://www.coopers.com.au/

http://www.afc.com.au/

http://stratco.com.au/

http://hubhardware.com.au/

http://www.brightoncars.com.au/

http://www.yellowpages.com.au/sa/ascot-park/747-motors-13844451-listing.html

http://www.hyundaiautoparts.com.au/

http://reynellahyundai.com.au/

http://www.ppglic.com.au/

http://www.maylineroofing.com.au/

 

my longest table.

To check out more photo’s of the night, please go to -
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.768967043149477.1073741829.732170033495845&type=1&l=857d7be8e7

P.A.W.

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I once was asked by a friend, “If there was only one thing you could ever eat again, what would it be?”
Clearly my mind was swimming. I mean, how could you pick only one… Cheese? Pork? No, no, that’s a question too hard to answer.
But, it does compel me to tell you a story about love and loss…

A couple of years ago now, my sister Dyani and her husband Mark were visiting from Coolum.
We all grew up in Adelaide and Mark’s mother got her hands on a sack of about 18 dozen Coffin Bay Oysters. These gorgeous little babies weren’t even shucked yet and as you can imagine, my greedy little self was in serious, shellfish heaven.

To celebrate the homecoming of my dear family, I organized a lunch with friends. But, unfortunately after Dyani and I finished preparing a majority of these oysters in different delicious ways, we were informed by half of our guests that they actually don’t eat oysters.
WTF? I seriously love my friends don’t get me wrong, but my hand was getting hot and wanted to start bitch-slappin’.
Once I calmed down and got over the shock of being at a table surrounded by oyster hating heathens, it suddenly dawned on me…
That’s OK… Wahahahaha there’s more for me!

And gorge we did.
It was one of those glorious moments in life, when you are sharing a plate of oysters and no-one is being polite about taking the last one.
We didn’t need to divide and conquer, there was more there than we could ever possibly eat.
This was Nirvana.

The very next day when I opened my fridge for a late afternoon lunch, I was greeted with the divine sight of 3 dozen left over oysters.
What’s a girl to do right?… I ate those little puppies, and I enjoyed every morsel.

30 minutes later… What the hell is this rash?
My body broke out in a random, spotty skin disease.
I immediately went into the shower (as you do, when you’re trying to wash away sin) and when I emerged, the shock on Cory’s face at my now beetroot red body was enough to instil fear into the heart of anyone.
So, I did what all normal, well-adjusted people do.
I started fanatically scouring the internet for symptoms of deadly skin eating bacteria diseases.
Images of small-pox and meningococcal were now floating through my brain. But, fever…no, runny nose…no, aches and pains…no and no.
I decided the best course of action was to ignore the fact that I now resembled Elmo and watch a movie.
So, I settled in for the evening in all my rose, radiant glory and watched 127 Hours (great film, if you haven’t seen it, you should).
After the movie I went to bed and although my rash was still bright enough to land a plane, I was in good spirits because unlike the poor chap I’d just been watching, at least I had two hands.

5:30am… Baby crying.
As I rose to feed my baby girl her morning milk, something wasn’t right. I touched my face… hmmmm I don’t remember my cheeks being so plump, better check this out.
Oh. My. God.
If you’ve ever seen the elephant man then you will understand, I looked like his twin sister.
I woke Cory to get his reaction, and his reaction was immediate… Call the Paramedics!
Of course, I was more worried about making a street wide spectacle so early in the morning that I made Cory ask them not to use their sirens, and seriously… it’s just a little bit of bloat isn’t it?

5 minutes later… Paramedics arrive.
They see my face…
WHY is everyone so shocked to see a bloated, red raw elephant woman with slowly closing airways?
The Paramedics were wonderful, they gave me anti-histamines and stayed with me for an hour to make sure I was OK, as my eyes started opening from their tightly fused position and my fluorescent skin turned to a more acceptable pinkish hue.
However, it was while we sat that I was informed about something so disturbing, it almost sent me into code blue…

Bree – “Yes, I ate about 10 dozen oysters. They were delicious… Regrets?… Hmmm, maybe a little”

Paramedic – “Well Bree, I have some terribly shocking news for a food lover such as you. Shellfish is notorious for not only being an allergen but for randomly striking down shellfish loving people in the prime of their life, for no reason and FOREVER…EVER…EVER…ever…ever”.

Her words were ringing in my ears… Forever? FOREVER!!!!

No, it can’t be!
Look, right at that moment I was angry at oysters so they could go to hell… but, PRAWNS?
No way Man! You are not telling me that I may never eat another prawn again, for as long as I shall live?
In that moment I felt such a sense of loss.
I could immediately relate to any foodie who has ever loved and lost.
I’m talking about the cheese loving lactose intolerant or the crusty white baguette loving gluten intolerant.
OK, if you’ve always been allergic to something then you’ll never know what you’re missing, but to love prawns the way that I love prawns and to have them snatched away from you by a cruel twist of fate, it was inconceivable to me.

So, after mending my skin and face, delivering news so devastating that it was like a punch to the windpipe and advising that I start to carry around an epi-pen for any future shellfish related anaphylaxis, the Paramedics went on their way.

Then, I cut out seafood.
Not just shellfish, but all fish and all fish related products, and then I counted down the days until I felt it was safe enough to tread those deadly, murky waters of shellfish allergy reaction.
That time came after several drinks in Gouger Street.

2 weeks later… We were dining with our good pals Justin and Katherine at Café Kowloon.
And, I will tell you this my friends, sending me to Café Kowloon and not allowing me to eat steamed prawn dumplings is akin to torture.
I was writhing around in my seat, scared to share the seafood dishes of my cohorts but feeling free and daring from all the Vodka Soda’s I’d been ingesting.
My husband, being the sharp little number he is, suggested rubbing prawns all over my inner arm.
So we did.
5 minutes, no reaction.
10 minutes, no reaction… Ah ha! That’s good enough for me. I dived in like a pig at a trough, devouring every prawn in sight.
And, since I am actually alive to tell you this tale, I can happily report that my brush with oyster death was merely a freak occurrence and perhaps more importantly, just a lesson to us all…
Greed is a sin and you will be smited, so unless you’re a professional eater, stop after 3 dozen.

Now, in honor of my lost love returning to me, I am making this week Prawn Appreciation Week – or P.A.W. for short.
I will share with you one of my favourite prawn recipes, my Prawn and Pumpkin Risotto, so we can all pay tribute to this wonderful creature together.
Some might say he’s Lobster’s poor second cousin, but to me, never has a name been more fitting… King Prawn

Print
Prawn and Pumpkin Risotto
Author: 
Recipe type: Dinner
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 4
 
Ingredients
  • 1 kg whole Green King Prawns - Peeled and deviened, with heads and shells reserved
  • 1 Leek - finely sliced
  • 4 cloves Garlic - crushed
  • 500gm Butternut Pumpkin - finely diced
  • 1½ cups of Arborio rice
  • 150ml White Vermouth or dry White Wine
  • 500ml good quality Fish stock
  • 100gm Butter
  • 1 ball fresh Buffalo Mozzarella
  • 50gm Baby Rocket leaves
  • Salt and Pepper
  • Olive Oil
Instructions
  1. Slice through each prawn length ways to make two halves. Set aside.
  2. Heat 1 tbs of oil in a heavy based saucepan, and add the prawn shells. Fry quickly over high heat until the shells are cooked and fragrant. Add the stock and 3 cups of water, place on a lid and simmer for 10 minutes. Drain through a fine sieve and pour back into a smaller saucepan. Bring back to the boil, reduce the heat and leave covered, simmering until ready to use.
  3. In a large saute or heavy based casserole, heat 2 tbs of oil. Add the leek and garlic and cook, stirring until translucent. Add the pumpkin, and continue stirring and cooking for 5 minutes until the pumpkin is starting to break down. At this stage, season well.
  4. Add the rice to the pot, and cook, stirring constantly until the grains are becoming translucent then add the Vermouth (or Wine) and cook until it has evaporated.
  5. At this stage, start to ladle in the hot stock, 1 ladle at a time. Waiting until the stock has reduced and evaporated until adding the next. Stir frequently. (This step is very important to ensure a silky, smooth risotto and will take about 20 minutes to use all the stock. Think of it as ‘Time out’… that’s what I do).
  6. Once you are down to the last ladle, stir it in with the raw Prawns. Bring back to the boil, then immediately take off the heat. Dot the butter over the risotto, replace the lid and leave to sit in a warm place for 5 minutes.
  7. Stir well and season to taste.
  8. Serve the Risotto with a scattering of fresh Baby Rocket and torn Mozzarella.

My longest table

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Longest table

I had a cousin called Paul.

He was one of the most amazing people you could know.
He was always smiling. He was always laughing. He was always the life of the party.
He rode a motorbike and had tattoos of clowns with guns, what was not to love?
I remember being Fourteen and seeing Paul in the crowd at the Big Day Out, I thought he was the coolest dude I knew, and I was probably right.

Paul was outnumbered… big time.
We have 13 first cousins on my mum’s side, and he was the ONLY male.
And, I will tell you this friends, when you get us girls all together with our mothers, we’re loud enough to drown out a sonic boom.
But, Paul could hold his own.
I suppose it helped his cause, that us girls are all tomboys at heart who love to share a drink.
When Paul arrived every Christmas with his bottle of Jack Daniels or his Coopers Pale Ale’s, there was always someone (e.g. me) willing to partake in the festivities.

Nothing was too hard for Paul. He loved his family and friends, and we love him.
He was at every single event.
He was always willing to fly the flag for his immediate family.
If only one person could make a birthday or family event, it was always Paul, bottle of Jack’s in hand and crazy clown tattoo’s in tow.

Paul was a bachelor.
He had girlfriends, but he never got married and had kids. I guess it just wasn’t in his stars or maybe all those years with his cackling female relatives really put him off…
But he did love kids. He has 3 nephews, and next to his amazing sister, they were the apple of his eye.
He loved his friend’s kids. He loved his cousin’s kids. He loved my kids. And, they loved him.

3 years ago, Paul got sick. Paul got Cancer.

We were all angry. Why did this have to happen to him? Why him?
He’s far too young.
He’s got way too much to give.
I thought of his sister, my cousin Deb and his wonderful parents, my Uncle and Aunt, and I was scared.
I imagined them without him, and the grief that they would feel.
Paul can’t die. It will create a void in all of our lives that can never be filled.

Paul battled hard.
I have never in my life witnessed so much bravery.
He refused to give up. He refused to lay down his sword and admit defeat.
Even when he was told that he would never get better, he still smiled and said ‘Never say Never’.
Our family had a Christmas get-together and although Paul was tired from fighting, and you could see the pain in his eyes, he was laughing and joking, the Paul we all knew.

My cousin Paul died on the 31st of July 2013.

I was with him 2 weeks before, and I could not believe that such an amazing, vibrant, strong man with an infectious grin and larrikin personality could be the person, suffering so greatly, laying in front of me.

Cancer is a very cruel disease.

I was away filming MKR when Paul passed away and I wasn’t able to say goodbye with the rest of my family.
I know Paul understood, I know he’s proud and I know he was with me.
There were so many times, when I felt an angel watching over my shoulder while I was competing, and I knew it was Paul.
I could almost hear his voice “Get it out of the oven RIGHT NOW!”
I thought of him often, hoping he was listening and asking for his help.

I am hosting a dinner, for ‘The Longest Table’ on Saturday the 28th of June, for my family and friends, in Paul’s memory.
We can’t bring Paul back, but we can try to make a difference.
We can dream of a world where Cancer doesn’t invade people’s families and turn them upside down.
We will not be mourning Paul on this night.
We will be celebrating him and every other courageous person who has fought Cancer and survived, or battled with intense bravery, but tragically had to leave us.

Please get on board this amazing cause.
If you can, host a dinner of your own, in honour of someone you love. Even four people at your longest table will be enough.
Or, if you can, please donate. $5.00 or $50.00, it’s totally up to you. Even the smallest amount will add up.
It’s true what they say, ‘One man CAN make a difference’.

I know our guest of honour will be looking down, and smiling that huge smile.
And I’ll be making sure there’s plenty of Cooper’s and bottles of my Bourbon BBQ Sauce, I know he’d like that.

R.I.P. Paul Stump 31/10/1964 - 31/07/2013 - You are gone, but you will never, ever be forgotten xxx

https://www.thelongesttable.com.au/

 

 

Paul Stump

 

 

 

Does chilli make you horny, baby?

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Chili Mojo

Every time I hear that Johnny Cash song… and it burns, burns, burns…
I think of Chilli.
Maybe it’s because I truly love chilli or maybe it’s because I’m one of those people who eats things that I know I shouldn’t, just because I find it impossible to say no.

My taste buds love nothing more than a spicy Vindaloo or a super fiery Jamaican Jerk, my body however, feels very differently.
I make chicken wings with chilli so hot they burn your taste buds right off your tongue and I love them, but the next day, I’m in some serious pain.
I make baby back ribs with so much Habanero BBQ hot sauce they make your eyes bulge right out of their sockets, but tomorrow, I’m going to be down right hurting.
And, don’t even get me started on the effects of chilli aftermath combined with Red Wine hangover…

I cannot eat a homemade Souvlaki and truly enjoy it unless it’s got roasted garlic hot sauce on it.
I can’t eat fried eggs and feel complete unless they are drowning in Jalapeno chilli sauce.
I can’t eat a Thai Red Curry and feel totally satisfied unless my nose is running and my eyes are watering.

Even though I know there will always be major repercussions, mild chilli just isn’t for me.
Look, I’m not talking top of the Scoville scale here, I still like to taste my food.
But, spice is so, so nice.

Obviously, considering my penchant for all things spicy, I LOVE Asian food. All Asian food. There is not a single Asian country that I wouldn’t happily travel to and eat at.
I love Thai, Chinese, Japanese, Mongolian, Indian, Korean… you name it, I’m a serious lover.

But, I also truly love, Mexican.

There is nothing about Mexican food that I don’t have a constant hankering for.
Their adoration and respect for chilli’s is second to none.
The Mexican use of spices, is truly magical.
I love Tortillas (and I will tell you friends, my tortilla press and cast iron tortilla skillet are two of my very favourite things in this whole, wide world).
I love Mole. I love Chipotle. I love Corn. I love Coriander. I love Tequila… I love it all.

Many moons ago, when I was young and carefree, my good friend Megan and I spent 10 weeks travelling around Mexico.
What an awesome and seriously unforgettable trip (except, for the bits I’ve forgotten… damn you, cheap Corona’s).
We started in Mexico City and did a loop from the West to the East.
We went from Guadalajara to Sayulita to Puerto Escondido to Playa Del Carmen and everywhere in-between.
And, I really wish I could say that being exposed to the different regional cuisines of this great country, shaped the Mexican cook I am now. But, unfortunately, although we ate like hungry beasts, I was more interested in cultivating my tan than honing my cooking skills. I still have so much to learn.
It did however, light a fire in me. A Mexican fire that has never gone out.
I dream of the day I can return with Cory, on one of our fantastical eating adventures (I think we’ll tie it in nicely with our Texas BBQ belt tour).

Whenever I’m stocking up on my Mexican supplies, I always pay a visit to a little shop on Magill Road called Chile Mojo.
How good is that name?
It always makes me think of Austin Powers… Groovy.
Chile Mojo has been around for almost 11 years, and has always been owned and operated by an American Expat called Joel and his Adelaidian wife Morgen.
What a pair of fine purveyors, bless their cotton socks for bringing such an amazing shop to life.
Our good friend Simon, who is a hot sauce lover and serious foodie, got me onto Chile Mojo a few years ago, and I have never looked back.
Yes, I can think of no better food outing than a trip to the Central Markets, please don’t get me wrong.
But, if South of the border is where your taste buds are travelling, then this is definitely the store for you.

I buy all my dried chilli’s from there. Pasilla, Chipotle, Ancho… they stock them all and much, much more.
They even have a ridiculous little number called Scorpion Chilli, which apparently sends Ghost Pepper right back to the graveyard (I do possess some myself, however I’m actually not game enough to try it as I truly value my lower intestine).
Note to Cory: Don’t p**s me off, or I’ll sprinkle some over your eggs.
There are walls and shelves, filled with just about any chilli sauce you could ever want, or need.
It’s so damn pretty.
There is every type of Mexican food supply you can think of… Black beans, Masa Flour, Tomatillo’s… the list is endless.
I bought an amazing cookbook from their hard to find, and eclectic selection. The first of many, to be sure.
They even sell souvenirs… Nothing screams ‘Hola!’ like a ridiculous Mexican hat.

I’m telling you now, If you are a lover of all things spicy, make the trip to this awesome little shop, you will not regret it.
But, be warned, I can never leave without dropping at least two pineapples from my purse.
There’s just way too much to buy, and if like me, you live on the other side of town… you will feel compelled to stock up because when will you be back?…
Soon, you hope.

Now, I’m sure after reading this, you will either get in your car and hot-tail it straight to Chile Mojo or lament about the fact that you live in another state and/or don’t have a licence due to slackness or worse… Fear not, licence-less losers!
The grand folk at Chile Mojo have a website and they will post their wares straight to your door.
Yes, that’s correct, an online shop peeps.
Hands up if you still think the internet’s a curse?
OK, maybe all the sicko chat rooms are, but an online Chile Mojo shop… Well, that’s a gift from God.

So friends, either get driving or get clicking and do yourself a serious favour, get some Chile Mojo into your pantry flavour.

http://chilemojo.com.au/

Disclaimer: I was not, nor never will be, paid for this blog post. However, Joel, if you’re reading this…
I really want one of those double sized tortilla presses… just saying…

 

Joel and Morgen Chile Mojo

 

 

 

Welcome to Pleasantville

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We have recently moved, and I have to say, I feel pretty fortunate.
Not only because, for the first time in our 10 plus years together, Cory and I are finally in our own home… I have dreamed of being able to hammer nails into walls without fear of retribution for years, such joy.
But, we also have really awesome neighbours.

These days, most neighbours either can’t stand you for no, good reason or couldn’t give a rat’s wazoo that you live next door unless you keep them up past 1am on a Sunday.
It makes me feel pretty good to know that we’ve just met a new bunch of friends, which in itself is pretty amazing, but to make it even better…
They will keep an eye on our house while we’re away, will give me a call if they see my Alpaca playing in the street (Yes, when our fences go up, I’m getting an Alpaca and his name will be Kerry Packer) and surely lend me milk if I can’t make the shops.
Furthermore, if I’ve ingested just a few too many Vodka Soda’s and have started Katy Perry karaoke, instead of calling the cops, they will no doubt just come over and join me for some high pitched squawking.

They have great kids too.
I bring my daughter’s home from school, and within 15 minutes, they are off to the neighbours to hang out on the trampoline and play with Loom bands (only a mother will know what these annoying plastic bands are).
I don’t see them till they come home at dinner time, or unless I call out and one of the street’s kids will either get them for me or point me to the house that they are currently playing at.
They all hang out together like some pre-teen rat pack, ageing from 13 to 3.
I feel as though when we bought our place we morphed into a 1950’s vortex, and I love it.

A couple of Saturdays ago, the lovely people next door put on a BBQ for our family as a ‘Welcome to the Neighbourhood’.
This is the kind of event and neighbourly camaraderie that I thought was lost to us all and only still existed on Ramsay Street.
And, before you get all cynical on me and think to yourself “Well, of course they want to be your friends… you were on TV”…
I will tell you this.
Everyone in my neighbourhood is friendly with each other. They would’ve held this dinner for us anyway.
It just helps everyone involved that we can skip the whole ‘getting to know you’ bizzo, since they already feel like they do because, I was forced into their lounge rooms for 4 nights a week.
And yes, it was against their will.
We all know, that you have absolutely no choice but to watch My Kitchen Rules, because it’s more addictive than crack.
Or so they say on the street… but not MY street.

OK, obviously we had to get some of the stock standard questions out of the way…
‘Yes, Manu’s accent is real… he’s French…not Tasmanian’
‘Yes, we were all launching food at the plates in HQ, because we genuinely, always ran out of time’
‘Yes, Jess-aaay and I, are still friends’

Anyway, I was thoroughly enjoying myself, even though on this eve, I was flying solo.
Cory was busy, off gallivanting on his Honda. He was with mates on an annual pilgrimage to the Riverland.
Bikes, Swags, Mono’s and Beer… Hmmm, think I’ll pass (not that I would ever be invited anyway). Rather be at the neighbours.

I got the usual apprehensive looks when the food arrived.
I was used to people not wanting to cook for me before MKR, you can only imagine how bad it is now.
I was informed that a BBQ is all anyone is prepared to ever cook me. That’s cool, I love a good barbie… but, surely you can throw a couple of roasts my way too?… Please.

Please note: I would never judge my friends food and I hope they would never judge mine. I’m actually quite partial to the Bunnings sausage sizzle… what does that say about me?

Well, this was no sausage sizzle.
I am pleased to report, that they all appear, to really love food.
They loved my BBQ wings, they loved my Roasted Pumpkin and Dukkah salad and they loved my Chimichurri.

They served me Prawns (yes, they know the way to my heart).
They served me Porterhouse Steak (Ohhh yes, they definitely know the way to my heart).
They served me cheese and dips and chips, and there was not a single piece of badly buttered bread in sight.
My gorgeous neighbour even cracked the expensive champagne she’d been holding onto since her birthday.
These new friends know me so well, it’s just a little bit scary.

But, how can this be?
I thought we were fortunate just to own our first home. But this, this is too much. How lucky can you get?
I now know, that our initial plans to move in 5 years and do the mandatory upgrade are dashed. We can’t leave. It is a vortex.
Great neighbours, who love to eat? I’m in cul-de-sac heaven.
My kids are in heaven too, because there’s a swimming pool on either side of us.

Well, as you all know friends, I love to cook. And more than that, I love to cook for the people I love.
I think I’m going to really love these people, and I look forward to feeding them all.
There is just one thing I ask for in return…

Dear new neighbours, if you’re going to score me, I’m best not knowing unless it’s a 10/10.

In honour of my new found friendships and the retro lifestyle I’m now happily living, I’m sharing with you the most retro drink of them all… An oldie, but an oh, so, goody…

Do you like Pina Colada?…

Why yes. Yes I do.

4.0 from 1 reviews

Print
Bree’s Pina Colada
Author: 
Recipe type: Cocktails
Prep time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 1
 
Ingredients
  • 1 part White Rum
  • 1 part Dark Rum
  • 3 parts Pineapple Puree ***
  • 2 parts Coconut Cream
  • Juice of half a Lime
Instructions
  1. Place all the ingredients into a shaker.
  2. Shake well, then pour into a long glass over ice.
  3. Serve with an extra wedge of lime.
  4. *** To make Pineapple puree, blend or process a whole can of crushed Pineapple in natural juice.

Disclaimer: Havana Club have not endorsed this post, but I endorse them. I love that Rum… Muy Bien Senors and Senoritas!