I don’t got much for you today.
All I have is a couple of points that have come from my ponderings and the tail end symptoms of a nasty little rash. 851 more words
Whenever I use a recipe of my Nan’s on a menu or these here Blogland pages I allocate credit due. I would happily tell every one I met about the food my Nan would make for us because the way that lady cooks is a crazy, intermingling, goat cart driven journey of hearty, soul warming comfort food and childhood memories and nostalgia fixes. 645 more words
I am not sure where this recipe came from (although as I look at the title of this story I figure it could have originated somewhere in the vicinity of Jamaica) but it is one I have been cooking for many years and, as a bit of goat had managed to find it’s way into my possession, I sensed it was time to feel a little Caribbean sun in my belly once again. 450 more words
There are one thousand and forty three websites out there in the mystical land of the inter-web super-highway (yeah I counted) that are more than happy to inform you of the facts about the humble goulash; how it is the national dish of Hungary, who ate it and what the essential ingredients should be. 414 more words
Mongrel Oysters Kilpatrick
Wooli may not be home to hipster cafes or trendy restaurants. In fact it’s sole café is only open, and I quote the guy out the front with the sea farers moustache, “Thursdy through Sundy” (I’m pretty sure that guy does the opening hours for the café and restaurant and oyster farm because no one seems to stick to a time table around here), and it’s only restaurant is at the lawn bowls club, operates out of a 2×4 rabbit hutch of a designated service window in a darkened corner of said club, and is named, like all good Aussie-Chinese restaurants should be, Harry’s Chinese Restaurant. 515 more words