In the 1970s, my very best girlfriend was a lass I had worked with for years, and one of the things I liked about her was that she was just as quirky as me, if not more.  We shared a love of food and our lunchtimes turned into 'hunt and gather' adventures of sorts, that included walking miles for whatever flavours took our fancy that day.  

Sunday at our place was a relaxed tracksuit, newspapers and blueberry hotcakes kinda day. We'd both been a little unwell through the week and, although some (kind) invitations had come our way, we declined politely and relished in having a day indoors all to ourselves.

I believe there's not enough down time these days and it's little wonder that so many people are tired much of the time, myself included. It's all crazy busy and go, go, go. Of course, it's fun to get out, socialise, see friends, meet new people and do things; but it's also ever so fine and dandy to simply kick back and have a pyjama day.

'I'm making toasted bread with garlic, would you like some too, pipike (little chicken),' my mother would ask when I was little. 'Nagyon finom! (it's very delicious)', she added enticingly, as she rubbed a clove of garlic over the thick slices of hot, freshly toasted continental bread.

Sometimes she would spread cultured butter on the bread beforehand. Remember olive oil wasn't readily available in the 1960s. In those days olive oil was something your mother bought it from the chemist. It was gently warmed and a few drops would be popped into your ear to ease the pain of an earache. It worked. And is still recommended by doctors and nurses today.

In summer, mum would slice some of my father's homegrown Oxheart tomatoes onto the toasted bread (or Pirítós as we knew it), making sure she added just the right sprinkle of salt and pepper. The tomatoes were just picked, still warm from the sunshine and simply bursting with flavour!

One of the truffles that I unearthed at Tarago Truffles yesterday was barely larger than a 'taw' or shooter marble. Nevertheless, I was feeling pretty chuffed about that little beauty and knew I wanted to buy it to take home at the end of the hunt. I had won a truffle via Twitter the week before and shared two thirds of it with my dear friend, The Dog, who loves a good truffle. But, after gaining truffle sniffing experience at our weekend adventure, I fear that the one I won as a prize had already lost much of its sweet, earthy perfume and flavour by the time it came into my hands.

It's mid October, technically Springtime in Australia and yet there was still a distinct chill in the air biting at my face and ears as we cycled around the local duck ponds this morning. Not surprising, as we had spotted snow on the Brindabella ranges just last weekend.