'Come and eat some gomboc,' my mother would say to me in Hungarian when I was a child. 'Köszönöm, nem kérem,' I would reply, shaking my head vigorously. In my mind I had somehow confused the word gomboc, or dumpling, with the word gomba, which means mushroom in Magyar. And the thought of a mushroom encased in dough and dusted with fried breadcrumbs simply didn't appeal to my very young taste buds. 'You're very attractive for a woman in her dancing years,' Peter said to me one evening, as he gazed deep into my eyes. 'How very charming,' I thought to myself. My heart was all-a-flutter and I held those romantic words of his in a special place -- until I mentioned them to him during a playful moment a few months later. 'Over 9,000 years ago agriculture began on different parts of the planet: the Middle east, China and Greater Australia in the highlands of New Guinea, which was then still attached to the mainland. As seas rose, agriculture spread to the Torres Strait Islands, but on mainland Australia [the Aboriginal] people rejected it, choosing to carefully manipulate the available natural plants and animals to increase their food resources. In Queensland’s rainforest people learned how to remove poison from some of the forest's most abundant toxic nuts. Fire stick farming was used across Australia to create habitats that encouraged particular plants and animals. Eucalypt forests were burned to create deliberate grass lanes used to lure and trap kangaroos. Here, people created something unique in human history: they transformed an entire continent into the biggest estate on earth - fully sustainable into the future until outsiders arrived'. Once upon a time in the tree-lined streets of my childhood, children frolicked on the front lawn playing chasings, hide'n'seek and badminton—and rode their bicycles on the road with their ears peeled, listening eagerly for the sound of the ice cream van which made regular rounds of the suburbs. Home Economics was one of my favourite classes through my high school years, right up there with History, English/Creative Writing and Asian Social Studies. For starters, there were a couple of guys in the class—both had a great sense of humour and, yes, they both were cheeky and naughty too. So even the washing up was fun (there were no dishwashers in classrooms back then)—we had more than a few 'sword fights' with the dish mops (the fellas always came out worse!). And if we were super bored (such as when frumpy Mrs M was talking about toad in the hole, fried brains and bacon, or cooking for convalescents), we'd make tiny wet pea balls from paper towelling and shoot them through our pens onto the stuccoed ceiling! 'Gyere kislányom, a hideg meggyleves nagyon finom! (come my little girl, this cold cherry soup is really delicious!),' my mother, Irén, would say as she beckoned me to taste her freshly made, ice-cold soup. Clearly she loved it, and indeed it must have been very good. For with each spoonful she would close her eyes, form a smile, raise her shoulders towards her neck (as you do when something is immensely pleasurable), and make the 'Mmmm' sound. Actually I can still see the look of bliss on her face... it was as though this lovely lady, who had lived a much harder life than most of us could imagine, had just died and gone to heaven. 'Somehow I was never told that rhubarb was good for me, so I grew up loving it. I loved its beautiful rose-pink colour, its sharp and surprising flavour, and the way I could trail a spoonful of proper custard through my bowl of rhubarb and admire the patterns I made.' This weekend I'd like to welcome to Good Things another passionate cook and friend in food, Manuela Zangara from Manu's Menu. I've been following Manuela's blog for some time, as week after week she posts the most inspiring recipes, all beautifully photographed. She has also just published her first ebook of Christmas menus. Manu is married and has two little daughters (6 and 4 years old), and lives in Sydney, Australia, having moved there seven years ago from Milan, Italy. Her husband is of Indian origin, which is why she often presents Indian recipes. When it comes to food, Manuela says her parents are her greatest inspiration. 'Cooking is all about creating memories with your family... that's what my parents did with me and that's what I am keen to do with my little ones,' she tells me. Manuela says her parents are not chefs, but the family used to spend a lot of time in the kitchen together, especially on weekends. Her dad makes the best Sacher torte ever, he doesn't have a very sweet tooth, but apparently he's very good at baking and decorating cakes. What is her favourite food? Manuela says she has so many favourite dishes, but says Lasagne is on top of the list... pure comfort food, she says. It's the dish she makes to cheer herself up when she is down. 'Any kind of lasagne will do (with meat, vegetarian or with pesto)... as long as it has bechamel and cheese, and I am a happy woman,' she laughs. Manuela has kindly stepped in with this sumptuous Good Things guest post and I know you are going to enjoy her recipe for Gelatina di Caffè or coffee jello. Over to you, Manuela... 'Dearest Blueberry Dutch Baby Pancake, I have a question to ask of you and it is simply this: where have you been all my life?!' 'Rob and I really enjoyed meeting Hassan, the shepherd near the Imilchil lakes, and we couldn't refuse his invitation for tea the next morning. So we headed to the market and bought some local delicacies to take with us - dates, figs and honey. The combination of figs, lemon and honey with the praline labna is simply too good to be true.' |
Welcome...Üdvözölöm
Cooking and writing have been a lifelong passion. Join me as I share with you my favourite recipes; postcards and morsels from my travels; conversations with cookery writers and chefs; and news on food, cookbooks and cooking. - Liz Posmyk
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NB: I use Australian standard measuring cups and spoons in my recipes.
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