Baby, It's Hot Outside: Christmas in Australia

So I gave in a bought a Christmas tree. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Christmas trees, or Christmas decorations, or good old fashioned holiday cheer. But I'm certainly not one to go overboard. Just a healthy dose of jubilation is good enough for me. The problem is, it just doesn't feel like the holidays to me, and the explanation for this is simple: It's summer down under and the days are longer, hotter, and sweatier. Granted, it's been unseasonably mild so far, but it's summer nevertheless. It's time for sunscreen, singlets, and sunnies; the three Ss are in full swing. Summer time seems to overshadow Christmas time here and it's hard for me to make room for both. 

People often say, "Oh, but you're from California, so it's probably about the same, right?" Um, no. Sure, I'm not used to a wintry white Christmas, where it's essential to roam around in gloves and those dorky ear muffs, but that doesn't mean it's 80-plus degrees and humid. Shorter days and a brisk breeze are the norm, thank you very much, not hot pavement and endless barbecues.

Still, when pressed by a good friend about my lack of tree, I realized I was bordering on Grinchiness, a trait I had no intention of ever displaying. But it's not my tradition to buy a plastic tree, like many Aussies do. (They use them year after year, and most look pretty good, but I need that real pine smell or it's a deal breaker.) And I wasn't about to buy a dead tree either. My mom would often buy a live tree, one that could grow and be planted in the backyard after the season was over. For me, that's the best way to go and makes me feel happier about the whole strange tradition. So I called around to a number of Brisbane nurseries and was surprised to find most of them sold potted, live trees. I decided on a small one, thinking I'd like to watch it grow. It's quirky and beautiful—and absolutely perfect for us.

We decorated while listening to a few classic Christmas tunes. 

I'll move it to a bigger pot in the new year so it can grow a bit higher than my waist.

After we decorated the tree (which took a total of five minutes) I decided to chuck out all my assumptions of what the holidays should be and embrace the traditions of Australia's summer/holidays/festive season. So we fired up the barbecue and sat on the deck, sipping a lightly spiced rosé and lighting citronella candles to keep the mozzies away (they love me.)

At least I was comforted by my poinsettia, a plant that has always symbolized the holidays for me. 

We decided to grill some steak and veggies for fajitas. 

Our homemade marinade seasoned the filling nicely.

Dinner was ready just in time to watch this magnificent sunset. It coloured our little pocket of the world beautifully.

I am opening up to Australia's summertime holiday season (I mean who doesn't love warm weather and barbecues?) but I'm still missing family from down here and look forward to the day they can sit on this deck and take in the sunset with me.

Just The Two of Us: Happy at Home

With the holiday season upon us, party season is officially in full swing. Bubbly is flying off shelves like canned food during Y2K. Families are packing up and heading to the coast for the summer. And the sound of crickets is beginning to annoy me. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to figure out where all the time went.

Peter had two work parties in a row this week so I was looking forward to spending Friday night in with just the two of us. He felt like cooking and I felt like baking. We ended up having a simple yet decadent evening at home.

I decided to bake some brownies using a recipe from this wickedly delicious book—a gift from my cousin.

This can't be good for my thighs.

Ira accompanied me while I melted, mixed, and baked.

Peter came home with yummy supplies for dinner.

We kicked off the evening with a little Prosecco...

and cheese. That Roquefort blue has quickly become a favourite.

Peter rubbed some garlic and oregano on the lamb racks.

And he sauteed some swiss chard (called silver beet in Australia.) Leafy greens are one my favourite sides. They're so easy to prepare and ridiculously nutritious. Plus, I can always convince myself that they'll offset the absurd amount of calories in my brownies.

Matt accompanied Peter as he seasoned, chopped, and sauteed.

The meal turned out great. Peter drizzled lemon juice over the lamb and swiss chard, giving them both a zesty finish.

Gooey, chewy brownies. Mmm... they are heavenly.

I only had a small slice so it wasn't too naughty.

Happy weekend!

My Recipes: Tortilla Pizza with Ricotta and Balsamic Onion

Sometimes, when I'm only cooking for myself, I make the easiest possible meal. And by "make" I mean toast some bread, smear avocado over a slice, and dust it with salt and pepper. Cooking for one isn't nearly as enjoyable as cooking for, well, any number above one, because you don't get to share your creation (whether it's tasty or merely in the, ahem, experimental stage) but I'm hoping to change that view. Perhaps cooking for one can be fun. And hey, it can definitely still be easy. 

And so tonight, when given the news it would be me and me alone for dinner, I decided to make a staple favourite—with a twist.

I stumbled across a strange idea for thin crust pizza the other day while searching for ways to make dough: flour tortillas. Yes, that's right, the Mexican concoction of flour and lard. Although you will find that prepackaged tortillas from the shop are made minus the lard (less fatty) and plus sugar and preservatives (not so great.) I decided to test this unusual pizza base. It's not the healthiest choice (I usually use wholemeal pita bread) but I do love me some tortillas. Still, as much as I love Mexican cuisine, with this recipe, its influence stops at the tortilla.

When using a tortilla as your base it's best to keep its ultra-thinness in mind; you don't want to overload it with ingredients or it will come out soggy (yuck) and too heavy for the base. The tortilla is thin so spread your toppings thin. I probably use a little more sauce than I should because I like my pizzas on the saucy side, so it's probably best to think of this as more of a guide than a recipe. Just add the toppings to taste. I use grapeseed oil to saute the onions because it's a healthier alternative to other oils. It's high in antioxidants and has a pretty neutral taste.

Before assembling your perfect-for-one pizza, put a baking stone on the rack and preheat your oven to 175°C or 345°F. 

1 flour tortilla 

1 cremini mushroom, more or less, thinly sliced

1/2 red onion, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar (not pictured)

1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil

2 teaspoons grapeseed oil

1/2 cup mozzarella (I added some grana padano in there too)

1/4 cup ricotta (love!)

1 tablespoon pizza sauce (be sure to use a good sauce because it's going to season the whole pizza)

1. Heat the grapeseed oil in a small pan over medium-high heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until they start softening. Add the balsamic and cook for a couple more minutes, until the onions are translucent. Remove from the heat.

2. Rip off a piece of baking paper and place the tortilla on top. Brush the tortilla with the extra virgin olive oil. If you don't have a brush just use a spoon or a mini silicone spatula. Neither will spread the oil as evenly but they'll do the job. Spread the sauce on top.

3. Sprinkle on the mozzarella and small globs of the ricotta. Add the mushrooms and onions to taste, but remember to keep it light. Here you can sprinkle on a pinch of salt and pepper. I didn't and it tasted great (the pizza sauce spiced it up enough for me) but you may feel strange leaving it off. 

4. Place the tortilla with the baking paper on the baking stone and bake for 5-8 minutes—until crisp and bubbly.

I was truly surprised by how much I enjoyed this pizza. Unlike traditional bases, tortillas are super light, making them airy and less filling (in a good way.) The flavours really shine through. For me, it's going to be a great meal to make in a pinch. (Oh, and do try to pair this with a bowl of salad. Dinner isn't complete without some green!)

You Spell Traveler, I Spell Traveller

When I first learned handwriting I switched back and forth between my right and left hands. After a while I was told to make a decision. Which hand would I use for the rest of my life? I eventually chose the left and, till this day, I'm not sure why. (I'm also not sure why I had to choose. Surely it would only be an advantage to be able to write with both, don't you think?) What I find interesting is that, apart from handwriting, I still use my right hand for a number of tasks. If I'm using a knife, for example, I slice with my right hand. Apparently I was never really able to relinquish all control of one-handed tasks to my left hand.

And so it will be with spelling. 

After moving to Australia in 2003 I gradually began adopting its British-derived spelling rules. I had to swap for work reasons, and then, a few years later, for University reasons. (I certainly didn't want to lose points for "incorrect" spelling on my essays!) Six years later I moved back to the United States, where I wrote for magazines, and eventually became a reporter. Writing was my bread and butter. It was a conscious effort, but I eventually got back to spelling the way I was originally taught. It's not realise, it's realize, I had to remind myself. 

Still, when writing wasn't work-related, and I was free to just write by my own rules, I noticed that I'd spell some words the British way and other words the American way. This natural inclination to spell both ways is a good metaphor for how I've come to see myself. Having lived the majority of my adult life in Australia, I identify strongly with both countries. And this is reflected in my spelling. Some days I write license, others it's licence. Some days I long for a Christmas break that isn't punctuated by sweltering heat; other days I'm grateful to spend it with my feet in the sand, chowing down on some shrimp prawns. 

Now that I'm back in Australia I'm making the switch again––both with spelling and with living.

Noah Webster

And for you trivia buffs, you can thank Noah Webster (1758-1843) for the American rules. He was a teacher and lexicographer, who some say helped define American culture.  His strong nationalism drove him to write an American spelling book in 1783, in an effort to further distance America from British influence. Centre became center, analyse became anaylze, defence became defense, and so on. Who knew rearranging letters and trading Ss for Zs could help solidify identity? 

Snapshots: Hosting Our First Thanksgiving Dinner in Oz

Peter, our friend Ben, and I hosted a Thanksgiving feast at our place this past Saturday. At eight guests, it wasn't a large Thanksgiving, but it still required a lot of work and preparation. 

{No cans were used in the making of this meal!}

We began prepping on Friday. Peter made the dough for pumpkin pie and brined the turkey, while I prepared what I could for my green bean casserole and twice baked sweet potatoes. 

When Saturday morning rolled around, we got to work on the rest of the spread. I loved watching Peter perfect his crust.

We used small leaf stencils to decorate the pie.

Peter whisked together freshly pureed pumpkin, brown sugar, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and cream to make the filling.

Meanwhile, I began chopping up celery, parsley, and onion for the sausage stuffing.

Ready to go in the oven

Ben joined us and prepped the 11 pound turkey for roasting. We used my uncle's favorite recipe and couldn't have been happier. Thanks Uncle Sam!

Margot and Shae helped me sort the white marshmallows from the pink ones to give my sweet potatoes a southern twist. (I couldn't find a package of plain white ones anywhere!) The marshmallows were the only ingredient not made from scratch. Perhaps I'll make them next year. Or, better yet, I may just leave them out; it's not like we need to gild the lily here.

Peter and I were very impressed with the pumpkin pie. However, next time we won't leave it out for so long. After it cooled, we should have popped it in the fridge. Instead, we got distracted with the rest of the meal and left it out (fyi, it's summer here.) I tasted the pie the next day when it had cooled all the way down in the fridge, and it was absolutely perfect. Good lesson for next time.

*Did you know? The pumpkin pie has been around for nearly 400 years. The pilgrims made a crust-free version of it by hollowing out the pumpkin, filling it with honey, milk, and spices, and then baking it over hot ashes. And it seems we can thank the French for the crust addition. A pumpkin pie recipe with pastry appeared in a French cookbook called Le Vrai Cuisinier Francois in 1651. 

Ben's pecan and bourbon pie looked and tasted great. It was a huge hit and reminded me of Texas!

Nick and his adorable son Louis.

Ben tossing his shredded brussels sprout salad. 

Shae and her little man, Flynn

Ben made the most delicious corn bread. The man can certainly bake!

Margot and Nick shared a special bottle of chardonnay they sourced on a trip to the Margaret River. Its luscious, buttery flavor was a beautiful accompaniment to the roast turkey and brussels sprout salad.  

It was a resounding success. . .  until. . .