Snapshots: Australia Day

As requested in my previous post, the rain that was saturating Brisbane obeyed my order and went away. Weather reports claimed the city would be drenched through the weekend, which caused the cancelling of a number of Australia Day celebrations. But despite the meteorologists' predictions, yesterday was rain-free. I foolishly forgot to bring my camera to a friend's daytime Aussie barbecue, but remembered to snap a few at our place later in the evening. We threw an Australia-Day-Tennis-Watching-American-Pork-Rib-Eating get together at our place, for eight adults and three kids. As usual I neglected my camera most of the night, but still managed to take a few. 

From top to bottom:

1. The spicy and tangy marinade simmering away on the stove. We used half to marinate the ribs, and saved the rest so people could slather on more should they feel like it. (They did.)

2. Peter coating the pork ribs with the marinade. Select ingredients include honey, hoisin, worcestershire, onion, dijon, and chili.

3.  Dishing up the coleslaw, which was seasoned with whole-grain mustard, molasses, apple cider vinegar, and honey.  

4. The final product: coleslaw, pork ribs, and spicy barbecue beans with red kidney beans and bacon.

5. Some chilled Rose to go with my meal.

6. From top left to right: Shae, Flynn, Dave, Frances, Ben, and me

Rain, Rain, Go Away

It's been raining here in Southeast Queensland for nearly two days straight. A mix of heavy downpours and gentle but steady dripping have resulted in floods, road closures, and even some home evacuations in a few pockets of the region. And while I enjoy the tranquil sound of rain (especially last night as I watched Nadal in the Australian Open), I wish it would just stop already. 

I realize rain is good, especially in a region that, up until recently, has been in a severe drought. But it was only a year ago that this city was submerged underwater from one of the worst floods ever, and those who experienced the devastation are a little on edge. 

Of course a repeat of what happened last year is highly unlikely, given the situation is different now than it was then. (Last year it rained heavily in the months leading up to the floods. Plus, the dams were so full that water was released from them just days prior, causing water levels to rise around Brisbane. Management of the dams is still under scrutiny and has become an election issue.) 

But even though the scale of this week's drenching won't come close to last year's, friends whose houses were damaged by the 2011 floods would probably like to have at least a year off of worrying if they should pack up again. So please rain, lay off. 

Here are a few snapshots of last year's floods, taken by my dear friend Shae. 

I believe this was taken in Graceville, which was one of the hardest hit areas.

Cleaning up in Rosalie. I live just 2kms from here.

I was lucky enough to be stateside during this disaster, however I wish I had been around to help my friends during the aftermath. It sure was a mess. 

So rain, rain, please go away, come again another day. (Preferably for just a brief shower or two.)

Borrowed Recipes: Sautéed Chicken Breasts with Whole-Grain Mustard Sauce

This deliciously saucy recipe comes from a Williams-Sonoma recipe book simply titled Sauce.  Whole grain mustard is the featured ingredient, which is great because it's one healthy condiment. But nutrition pretty much goes out the window when we add three quarters of a cup of heavy cream to the pan. Still, when paired with steamed green beans and a small scoop of mashed potatoes, this turns into a pretty well-balanced meal (at least that what I tell myself anyway.)

We make the sauce after cooking the chicken by deglazing the pan with a little white wine, making sure to scrape up and mix in the yummy brown bits left over by the meat.

William-Sonoma's Sautéed Chicken Breasts with Whole Grain Mustard Sauce

Serves 4

4 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves (preferably organic)

2 teaspoons unsalted butter

2 teaspoons olive oil

salt & pepper

For the sauce

1 shallot, minced

1/2 cup dry white wine

3/4 cup heavy cream

3 tablespoons whole-grain mustard

salt & pepper

Place a large baking dish in the oven and preheat to 65C (150F.) We''ll be using it to keep the chicken warm while we make the sauce.

Rinse the chicken and pat dry with paper towels. Use a meat pounder to lightly pound the breasts to an even thickness of around a 1/2 inch. (Or, if you don't have a proper meat pounder, as in my case, use something flat and heavy. Be creative. I ended up using our stone mortal as a pounder. It did the job!) Season both sides with salt and pepper.

Heat a large pan over medium-high heat and melt the butter with the oil. When the foam begins to subside, add the chicken breasts and cook, being careful not to crowd the pan (do them in batches if you need to), until just beginning to brown, roughly 2 minutes. (If the chicken is thicker than 1/2 an inch it will obviously take longer to brown.) Turn the chicken over and cook, around 2-2 1/2 minutes, until firm. With a sharp knife, cut a small slit in the middle of the thickest piece and make sure there is no sign of pinkness. Transfer the chicken breasts to the baking dish in the oven.

Now on to the sauce!

Return the pan to medium-low heat and add the shallot. Cook, stirring, until slightly softened, about a minute. Add the wine and raise the heat to medium-high. Simmer, stirring with a wooden spoon to scrape up the tasty bits from both the bottom and sides of the pan. Keep stirring until the wine has reduced to about 2 tablespoons. This should take around 3 minutes. Stir in the cream, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Bring to a boil, and then simmer, stirring constantly, until the sauce is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, 1-2 minutes. 

Turn off the heat (if using an electric stove, remove from the element) and whisk in the mustard until smooth. Take the chicken breasts out of the oven and place one on each plate. Top with a couple spoonfuls of the sauce and serve at once.

Serve with green beans and mash or a simple spinach salad.

Bon appétit!

Tip: I always have extra sauce leftover which makes a great salad dressing for lunch the following day. Just toss it with arugula, grilled chicken slices, and some sauteed onion. It's deliciously quick.

When It Comes to Perplexing Accents, The Knife Cuts Both Ways

Australians who have travelled to the USA will often return home with stories of how their accents caused confusion among the American natives. "I told the waiter we'd like to order and he thought I said I'd like some water!" they might recall. Time and time again I'm reminded how Americans struggle to grasp the Australian accent, something I have seen for myself first hand. But while it is absolutely true, and quite funny, I'd like to point out that this common comical phenomenon is not one-sided.

Despite the obvious American influence down here (including a pervasive presence on Australian television, and the world over for the matter), you may be surprised that I run into Aussies all the time who get flustered by my accent. When I tell my friends here about it, they find it hard to believe. But trust me, it happens frequently. The two most recent incidents are as follows:

1. When purchasing some rice at a local organic grocery store, I asked the woman ringing me up if she had some tape so I could secure the paper bag. "Sorry, what are you after?" she asked. I figured I just spoke too fast, or she wasn't really paying attention or something. "Oh, just some tape fo the bag please." Awkward laugh. Confused smile. "Sorry, some...?" she said, bewildered. "Some tape," I said, slowly, "so I can tape up the bag so the rice won't come out on the walk home." I even took my finger and slid it across the fold of the bag. I think it took one more time before the lightbulb went off and I got my tape. We both laughed. I could tell she was dumbfounded as to why it took her so long to comprehend what I was saying.

2. Yesterday I was at a fruit and veg shop in The Gap grabbing some milk, tomatoes, and something to cook up for dinner. There's a butcher and deli in the back. I was after some fish. I didn't see any but I asked anyway. "Do you have any fish?" She looked confused immediately. "Do we have any what?" She inquired. "Oh, um, fish. . . Fish?" She was smiling, but looked at me as if I was speaking another language. "Fish," I repeated, "or. . . seafood. Seafood?" I said nervously, though proud of myself for finding a different way to ask. It was getting quite awkward at this stage. "Oh! Seafood!" she exclaimed. "No sorry, we don't sell fresh seafood here." She was extremely relieved, although I'm still not sure whether she ever figured out I was saying fish to begin with.

What's interesting about these two incidents is that the way I say "tape" and "fish" isn't so different from the way Aussies say it. I think both women were just so thrown off by the presence of my accent that they thought about every single word I was saying way too much. Or perhaps it's because what I was asking wasn't so common and my accent made them question if they were mishearing me, even if they weren't.

I certainly concede that Australians travelling to the U.S. will run into this problem much more regularly than Americans down here. But it does happen. And when it does, it's a stark reminder that I'm still just a foreigner in this land.

¡Feliz Año Nuevo! Welcoming 2012 with a Mexican Feast

I hadn't planned on throwing a New Year's shindig, but on the 29th, after a brief phone call with his friend, Peter informed me a party at our place was officially on the agenda. 

My recurring craving for Mexican food meant a Mexican-themed spread was in order. We kicked off the preparations the night before, starting with a marinade for the fajitas.

Cumin, jalapenos, garlic, salt, coriander, oil, and lime went in to what turned out to be my favourite fajita marinade yet.

We bought some pretty big slabs of meat from our local butcher.

Ready to go in the fridge

Just some of what I chopped up for the gazpacho, including chives from my herb garden.

When New Year's Eve morning rolled around we got back to work on the rest of the spread. I toasted some birds eye chillies for a very spicy salsa that would be both an accompaniment to the tortilla chips and a seasoning for the carnitas. 

Meanwhile, Peter got stuck in to the flour tortillas.

He kneaded and kneaded. . .

and divided up the dough.

A couple hours later we had 32 tortillas.

I poured a couple cups of that spicy salsa over a kilo of boneless pork shoulder, added some broth and water, then simmered it for four hours on the stovetop. Not long after, the delicious aroma of what would eventually be carnitas wafted through the house.

When the chunks of pork were good and tender I pulled them apart with a fork, put them in a pan, and roasted them in the oven for about 20 minutes. 

Peter and Ben fired up the barbecue. . .

. . .while little Louis only had eyes for his own dinner.

Peter's brother Dave sported the Brisbane Roar's jersey (soccer) ahead of the night's game.

Ben sliced up some freshly grilled peppers for his salsa while Richard helped out with the guac.

And voila! Quite an impressive spread, is it not?

I zoomed in for a closer look.

Everything turned out perfectly (with the exception of my rice, which went a little mushy) including:

Simone's roasted red capsicum salsa,

Ben's chargrilled corn salsa,

my gazpacho and so much more. (I wish I took more photos.)

We finished off the evening with a little piñata action. 

Franni put it back together after it had been severed into two pieces, so someone else could have a swing.

And he did. 

We finished off the celebration back on the balcony with margaritas, sparking wine, and the sound of fireworks in the distance. 

Happy New Year everyone!