In the 1970s, it was dinner-party de rigueur to serve small plates of beef stroganoff atop tiny shell noodles. Guests could eat the dish while standing; as they mingled and discussed the state of play on topics such as Gough Whitlam's leadership, the $1.3 million spent on Jackson Pollock's squiggly artwork known as Blue Poles, the aftermath of Darwin's Cyclone Tracey, and the inaugural Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras held in Sydney as part of International Gay Solidarity Day.
January, February, March, April, May, *BLINK*, December, January...
It's late afternoon in the summer of 1968. I am ten years old, or thereabouts. My father and I have carried his paint-splattered wooden ladder from the garage around to the back garden on the left hand side of our family home. That's where my dad's peach, apricot and nectarine trees grew.
I'm Liz, a.k.a Bizzy Lizzy,
the writer, cook and traveller behind
Join me as I share with you my favourite recipes, postcards and morsels from my adventures, conversations with cookery writers
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NB: I use Australian standard measuring cups and spoons in my recipes.