Tales of food, sex and friendship




Archive for 2011

Edible Teacups

June 23, 2011


These are super cute little treats perfect for kids (or grown-ups!) birthday parties. Sure to impress both the young and young at heart.

Makes 14

1 x packet of white and pink marshmellows
1 x  packet of chocolate freckles
1 x packet tick-tock biscuits
1 x packet of musk lifesavers
1 tbsp icing sugar
1/2 tbsp water

Carefully cut lifesavers in half. Combine water and icing sugar so that it forms a thick paste. Holding a tick-tock biscuit colour side up, put a small dob of icing in the centre of the biscuit. Place a marshmallow on top of the icing. Spread another dob of icing on top of the marshmallow and stick a chocolate freckle on the icing, sprinkle side up. Take one of the lifesavers you cut in half and carefully dab a small amount of icing on either end. Secure the lifesaver to the side of the marshmallow to form the handle of your tea cup. Repeat until you have used all the biscuits or until you have the amount you need. ENJOY!!

Season 3: Episode 3

June 21, 2011

Mia pulled the door to the Pilates studio closed behind her and double-checked to make sure it was locked. She let the winter sunlight melt over her skin, closing her eyes for a second to bask in it. Originally from Singapore, Mia felt the cold much more than native Melbournians. She often wondered why she had chosen this city as her home, given that most of the year she spent hunched inside a huge jacket waiting for when it was going to defrost enough to wear a t-shirt. Still, she did love this place, and occasionally – like today – Melbourne would surprise her with a day of glorious winter sunshine.

She walked slowly down the back streets, avoiding the Saturday throng of people meandering from one coffee shop to another. She had no plans for the rest of the afternoon or evening and was planning on keeping it that way. She thought she might sit in their back garden with a book to soak up some of the late afternoon rays, then perhaps a gin and tonic, DVD and sleep?

Perfect, thought Mia, stretching like a contented cat as she walked home.

Pondering over which movie she felt like watching, she didn’t notice the man dressed in dark denim and sunglasses round the corner. He was concentrating intently on his phone and wasn’t looking where he was going either. Mia yelped in surprise as she walked headlong into him, almost tripping over. He was carrying a Tupperware container, which looked as though it may topple out of his hands, but he managed to save it with a skilful balancing manoeuvre.

“Oh I’m sorry… Mia?”

Mia blinked, the sunlight momentarily blinding her. She knew that voice.

“Johnny?”

He laughed. “Yeah, sorry, wasn’t looking where I was going.”

As one does, they exchanged pleasantries about the weather and life in general before an awkward silence kicked in. Johnny looked about nervously and Mia chewed her lip.

“What are you doing now?” asked Johnny suddenly.

Mia blinked. “Um, nothing. I’m just on my way home.”

“Come to a party with me.”

“What? Now?”

Johnny grinned. “Yeah, the house is just there.”

He pointed to a gorgeous weatherboard cottage a few doors down. Creeping foliage coiled around the front porch posts and hung lusciously over the entrance.

“But I’m not invited,” Mia protested.

“Trust me, it’ll be fine. The more the merrier.”

“Whose party is it? Someone I know?”

“No,” said Johnny simply. He wasn’t giving anything away.

Mia realised that she didn’t know any of Johnny’s other friends outside of Willow and Ana. She had images of bikini clad girls stoking a barbeque and splashing in a paddling pool, even though it was winter; Ageing hispters standing around and looking bored, drinking obscure Scandinavian larger.

“It’s going to be filled with girls young enough to be my daughter, isn’t it?” said Mia sarcastically.

Johnny winked. “Oh, you have no idea. Come on, it’ll be a blast.”

He grabbed her hand before she could protest and pulled her along. Mia groaned inwardly. Why did she do this to herself?

Johnny rang the doorbell and waited, flashing another smile at Mia. She heard footsteps barrelling down the hall and the door swung open.

“Uncle Johnnyyyyyyyyyy!”

At first Mia didn’t see who had spoken, but she dropped her gaze a few feet and was greeted by the site of a little girl who was dressed in a purple tutu, purple tights and sparkly purple shoes. A purple and silver tiara rested crookedly atop her chestnut curls and she brandished a wand that was, predictably, purple.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” said Johnny, leaning down and scooping the small child up with his free arm.

She giggled, shouting “Put me down! Put me down!” and beating him with her wand.

“Ivy, this is my friend Mia,” he said, resting her on the ground again. “Today is Ivy’s fifth birthday,” he explained to Mia.

“I’m grown up now,” said Ivy seriously, gracing Mia with a deep curtsey. She turned back to Johnny. “Today you have to call me princess Ivy, because I’m a princess.” She indicated to her outfit. “See?”

“Johnny! You made it,” a beautiful, tall woman who Mia took to be Ivy’s mother came striding down the hall, swooping to clear the balloons out of the way.

“You told me you would never bring a date to a five year olds birthday party,” she scolded, kissing Johnny’s cheek then holding out her hand warmly to Mia. “I’m Helen, Johnny’s sister.”

“Oh, I’m not…”

Johnny interrupted. “This is Mia, an old friend.”

He handed the Tupperware box he was carrying to Helen, who looked inside and chuckled.

“Ivy, come and look what Johnny made for you.”

Ivy charged down the hall again, squealing and clapping her hands in delight as her mother lowered the box for her to look at. Nestled inside were little tiny edible teacups – marshmallows resting on cookies, with tiny sugar handles. Mia’s mouth almost fell open in surprise and she glanced at Johnny, who winked at her again.

“I’m pretty handy in the kitchen,” he said as he led her towards the back of the house, stopping briefly to procure two glasses of champagne on the way through.

There were about fifty people gathered in the back garden, all laughing and talking. Children were running wild everywhere, screams of delight and occasionally a few tears breaking up the adult conversation. Johnny was greeted warmly by everyone, and introduced Mia to groups of people whose names she promptly forgot. After Johnny had done the rounds and played the requisite games with the birthday girl, he steered Mia towards a quiet corner, snaffling two chocolate crackles on the way.

“I didn’t even know you had any siblings,” said Mia, in between bites of the rice bubbles and chocolate. She hadn’t had one of these for probably fifteen years.

Johnny shrugged. “I guess you never asked.”

Mia nodded slowly. She was beginning to think there were plenty of things she didn’t know about Johnny.

The rest of the afternoon passed in beautiful blur of sunshine, champagne and birthday cake. The edible teacups were a hit with the kids and Johnny had already given out the recipe to at least six other people. Johnny made Mia feel so at ease and she could barely believe this was the same womanising heartbreaker she knew.

Or, thought she knew. She gazed intently at his profile, wondering if she actually knew this man at all. He looked over and caught her staring. Mia didn’t drop her eyes. A sexy smile spread slowly over his face.

He leant forward and put his mouth close to her ear. “Want to get out of here?”

Mia felt shivers of anticipation run down her spine and nodded wordlessly. She didn’t trust her voice to behave.

“Let me just say goodbye to Helen and we can disappear,” he said.

Mia took the opportunity to go into the kitchen and get a glass of water. The champagne had made her lightheaded. She could hear two people in the living room, talking.

“Did you see the girl with Johnny,” a voice said, disdainfully. “I wonder if she knows he’s slept with most of the women here. Even the married ones.”

The other women gasped. “No!”

“It’s true. He’s even tried his charms on me. I said no, of course.”

“Of course!”

“I mean, I’m happily married, but you know what people like him are like. They’ll try it on with anyone.”

Suddenly the wonderful giddiness of the champagne dissipated and Mia came crashing back to reality. Of course. That was the Johnny she knew.

“Ready?” she spun around and saw Johnny waiting, their jackets over his arm.

“I’m… um… I have to go.”

Mia grabbed her coat from him and rushed out the front door.

Johnny stood there staring after her. Two women peered their heads through the door of the living room. He recognised one of them as a horrible friend of Helen’s who flirted outrageously with him whenever she saw him. He’d had to firmly turn her down on several separate occasions. Obviously in a terrible marriage and looking for some kind of escape. She eyed Johnny coolly and looked pointedly at her friend, before they withdrew their faces from the doorway.

Johnny took out his phone to call Mia, but hesitated.

That’s it, thought Johnny. That’s enough. This is too exhausting.

He pushed his phone back into his pocket, frustrated. If they couldn’t even hang out together without having a fight it was never going to work. His shoulders sagged and he started the long walk home, pulling the collar of his jacket up to shield himself from the cool evening air.

Apple and Pear Crumble

June 16, 2011


This is such a great, easy winter dessert that is actually really healthy. It’s impressive enough to serve at a dinner party, but also quick and easy if you’re tucked up at home with a good book and feel like something a little indulgent. You can make a single person serve by using 1 apple and pear and cutting down the amount of crumble mixture.

Serve with hot custard, ice cream or cream. Serves 4-6

3 large granny smith apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced

3 large green pears, peeled, cored and thinly sliced

1 tbspn honey

1 tspn vanilla extract

Juice of one lemon

1 cup wholemeal flour

1.5 cups quick oats (or normal rolled oats that have been roughly chopped)

1/4 cup LSA or finely chopped almonds

3 tbspn butter, melted

1 tbspn brown sugar

Powdered cinnamon and nutmeg

Preheat oven to 180 degrees Celsius. In a large mixing bowl put the sliced apples and pears, lemon juice, honey, vanilla and a generous sprinkle of cinnamon and nutmeg. Toss through so that all the fruit is coated.

In a separate bowl mix together the flour, oats, chopped almonds, butter, sugar and add a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg for good measure.The mixture should be quite dry still at this stage.

Transfer the fruit into a medium sized ceramic making dish, making sure that you don’t put the liquid in – you don’t want to fruit to be too wet. Transfer the remaining liquid to the crumble mixture and stir it through. If the mixture isn’t moist enough (it should be sticking together in clumps) then add some more melted butter. Cover the apple with the crumble mixture. Put aluminum foil over the top of the baking dish, putting a couple of decent holes in the top to allow steam to escape and making sure the foil isn’t resting on top of the crumble. Cook for 35 minutes, remove foil completely and cook for a further 10 minutes. Leave to stand for 5 minutes before serving. Enjoy!

 

 

Season 3: Episode 2

June 14, 2011

There was no light peeping through the cracks between curtain and wall as Willow opened her eyes. This meant one of two things: It was either still really early and she could go back to sleep or it was a miserable day and there was no sunshine. A quick check of her alarm clock informed her it was the latter. Eight am and miserably overcast. Sitting up in bed, wrapped in her warm covers, Willow peeked behind the curtain to ascertain just how wintery it actually was out there. The trees that lined the street were furiously licking the grey sky and the ground was sodden. She could hear the swoosh of cars as they drove through the puddles of water that had formed on the road overnight. She groaned and lay back in bed, pulling the covers closer around her. It was just so typical that the weather was like this on her day off.

When Willow padded downstairs a little while later the house was empty and quiet, the others having already gone out. She opened the fridge and surveyed the contents for breakfast options. She salivated at the thought of poached eggs with wilted spinach on fresh sourdough. Perhaps with homemade hash browns on the side. Sighing, she realised that this dream would only eventuate if she actually went to the markets. She made herself a coffee and sat at the kitchen bench, weighing up the pros and cons of this venture.

Pro: Fresh eggs.

Con: Possibility of seeing The Italian.

Pro: Handmade butter on still-warm sourdough.

Con: Possibility of still being attracted to The Italian.

Pro: Necessary ingredients gathered that would enable a day of cooking, undoubtedly a favourite pastime in weather such as this.

Con: Possibility of being charmed yet again by The Italian and ending up in bed with him. (in different circumstances definitely not a con, but she did have her pride to think of!)

Her stomach grumbled. She drained the last of her coffee and, in a moment of intoxicating bravado, made the executive decision that today was the day to face her demons. She couldn’t hide from The Italian forever, after all.

In an out and out display of how completely over Carlo she was, she deliberately put on her least sexy outfit: Jeans that were fashionable around the time that Will Smith was still known as the Fresh Prince and a jumper that Madonna, pre revival, would have been proud of. Catching a glimpse of herself on the way out, however, made her scurry back inside and get changed. There was really no excuse for those jeans. Finally, settling on the Melbourne uniform of skinny black jeans, jumper and coat, she left the house, umbrella under arm.

***

The sun had managed to peek through the ominous storm clouds and small shafts of light were ricocheting off the tops of buildings as she strode from her car to the entrance of the markets. She walked with purpose, shopping trolley bouncing haphazardly off the uneven paving stones, daring anyone to mess with her. Although she felt calm and confident, she conceded it might be wise to keep to the sections she knew there was little chance of running into him. His father’s stall was in the far left corner, so Willow stuck to the top right. All the stall owners there still knew her, and she was met with cries of “Where have you been?” and “We’ve missed you” and offered gifts of silverbeet, oranges and fresh herbs tied up with string. These were, of course, a few of her favourite things.

She was deep in discussion with one of the fruiters about the perfect picking time for granny smith apples when he saw her.

“Willow?”

His face broke into a wide grin. “I thought it was you. I would recognise you anywhere.”

Willow’s knees went a little weak and her heart started beating a bit faster. This is exactly what she’d been afraid of. He looked as good as ever. Better even, if that was possible. His thick, dark hair had grown and fell casually over his forehead. Long lashes framed his eyes, which were set off by the navy jumper he was wearing, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular, tanned forearms. How he managed to get a tan during Melbourne winter was beyond her. She murmured a greeting, unsure of exactly what her voice was going to do, as he leant in to kiss her cheek. She couldn’t help but inhale his spicy, warm scent.

“Can I talk to you?” He took her by the hand and pulled her away from the crowd. “In private?”

Once again, Willow found herself powerless in the presence of this man, and allowed herself to be dragged along to a quiet corner of the markets.

“I have been a fool,” he said to her, clasping both her hands and looking deep into her eyes. “I realised after you left that day that I’ve never met anyone like you.”

He paused to gauge her reaction, pulling her closer when she made no move to escape.

“I want to start again, to make amends for everything that happened. Will you let me do that beautiful Willow?”

His voice had dropped to a throaty whisper and she could feel his warm breath on her face. Maybe they could start again? Maybe she could make him as happy as he’d made her? Maybe…

Someone bumped into Willow from behind and she was awoken from her daydream. What the hell was she thinking? This guy was a skeeze who had used her in the worst possible way. And why, all of a sudden, had he decided that she was the one for him? Unless…

“She left you,” Willow said, a smirk slowly forming on her lips.

Carlo looked uncomfortable. “No, we… I… decided that…”

Willow extracted herself from his grasp.

“You’ve had to move out of her house, which doesn’t suit you because you can’t exactly take girls back to your parents place, can you?”

Carlo was shifting from one foot to the other, his eyes darting around looking for an escape. “No Willow, you know that is not true. What we had…”

She cut him off, her voice calm but sharp. “What we had was a night of sex at your girlfriend’s house while she was out of town on business. That’s all.” She took her trolley and smiled at him, pityingly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have shopping to do.”

Carlo watched bewildered as she melted into the crowd, her shopping trolley bobbing merrily behind her, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

***

Willow stood in the kitchen triumphantly slicing granny smith apples and pears, still relishing in her newfound power. Almost predictably, Destiny’s Child’s Independent Women had shuffled its way on her iPod and was blaring through the speakers at the moment that Ana and Mia walked through the door. They could smell melted butter, caramelised sugar and baking fruit, which meant only one thing: Willow was making crumble.

“How was your day?” asked Ana, uncorking a bottle of Italian wine that she was astonished to find in the fridge. For months now there had been a moratorium on all things Italian, so she was pleasantly surprised that it seemed to have been lifted overnight.

Willow smiled and her eyes twinkled. She got out the glasses and, over piping hot bowls of apple and pear crumble with custard, regaled her friends with a wonderful tale of one woman kicking butt.

Hearty Vegetable and Bean Soup with Miso Stock

June 9, 2011


What better way to start off the winter season than with a hearty vegetable and bean soup! The miso stock and hint of lemon give it a gorgeous flavour. Feel free to add bacon or ham if you are carnivorously inclined.

Serve with fresh, warm sourdough. Serves 5

2 tablespoons miso paste

About 1 litre water

1 teaspoon beef stock powder

1/2 tablespoon honey

1 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 red chilli, finely chopped

2 potatos, peeled, diced

1 sweet potato, peeled, diced

2 celery sticks, chopped

1 large carrot, chopped

1 zucchini, diced

1 cup green beans, chopped to desired size

2 large handfuls of silverbeet, chopped into slivers

1 tin cannellini beans, rinsed and drained

juice of 1 lemon

White wine (optional)

Parsley, basil, pepper and salt to taste

In a large pot put about an inch of water and heat. Mix through miso and beef stock until dissolved and add onion, garlic and chilli. When these are cooked through (about 5 mins) put in all the veges and fill up with water. Add the honey, lemon juice, herbs, salt and pepper. Add a generous splash of white wine if you have some lurking in the fridge. When the mixture has warmed through taste a bit of the liquid to make sure it has enough flavour – if not, add some more miso and/or stock. Add the canellini beans and cook until potato is soft (about 20 mins). Drizzle with olive oil and garnish with black pepper and fresh parsley before serving.

 

Season 3: Episode 1

June 7, 2011

It was Saturday afternoon and Ana was sitting in the kitchen, consumed by her thoughts. She absently took a sip of the tea in front of her only to realise that she had neglected it for too long and it was now stone cold. She grimaced as she swallowed the mouthful and tipped the rest down the sink. She felt restless and anxious. Couldn’t focus. The tight knot in her stomach was so disturbingly familiar, that she couldn’t even remember how it was to feel Normal. Whatever that meant.

Tom was being weird and distant. Had been for days. Since the night of the function, he wouldn’t look directly at her when he spoke and he was spending too many nights at the office. Ana was sure that it was so he could avoid her, but when she’d tried to talk to him about it – to explain for the hundredth time that she didn’t know Marc had hired her – he brushed her off, saying that she was reading too much into things.

“I’m busy with work,” he’d said. “Just chill out. Everything’s fine.”

Chill out? How on earth she was meant to chill out, Ana didn’t know. She felt as though the best thing that had ever happened to her was slipping through her fingers, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it. If she didn’t know better, Ana would have suspected he was having an affair.

There’s no way though, she thought, her anxiety peaking again. Not Tom.

She glanced at the clock, glad that Mia and Willow were due any minute, hoping that they would arrive brimming with culinary inspiration. In an attempt to draw Tom out of his shell, Ana had decided it would be a good idea to throw an informal dinner party tonight. But, best laid plans… Johnny had phoned earlier with an incredibly obtuse reason for why he couldn’t make it, and Ana still hadn’t gotten a straight answer from Tom as to whether he was even going to turn up.

She sighed and put the kettle on again, more for something to do than the desire for another cup of tea, before deciding that 5:30pm was a perfectly reasonable hour to open a bottle of wine.

Half a bottle of a delicious Pinot Gris later and still no sign of the others, she decided that cooking was perfect way to occupy her mind. She surveyed the contents of the kitchen sceptically: A few tins of beans, miso paste, some limp celery, potatoes that had seen better days, and something in a bowl that resembled a green hedgehog. Willow usually did the grocery shopping – she knew about little tucked away places that the others didn’t even realise existed – but since the Italian grocer had broken her heart, the poor kitchen cupboards had been seriously neglected.

After some deliberation, she discarded the furry mammal carefully, topped up her glass, and set to work creating something from, literally, all the other food they had in the house. By the time Mia and Willow arrived home the house was filled with the smell of hearty vegetable and bean soup, and Ana was full of Pinot Gris.

***

Much to Ana’s surprise, Tom turned up about half an hour later, full of warm smiles and hugs for the other two girls. He turned his cheek when Ana leant in to kiss him so that she ended up smooching the air and nearly falling forward.

“I don’t think you need any of this,” he said jokingly, holding up the bottle of Chablis that he had bought.

She looked at him, hurt, but he was already busy asking Willow about how her school term was shaping up and what she thought of the new state government’s approach to education. Ana fumed silently, but dedicated herself to final dinner preparations. Now wasn’t the time.

“Let’s eat!” she said, more brightly than she felt.

Tom’s phone rang as he sat at the table and he jumped up to answer it, moving immediately to the other room and pulling the door behind him. She could hear muffled laughter as he spoke to whoever was on the other end. He returned a few moments later and didn’t meet her eye.

“Who was that?” she said, not meaning for her voice to sound as accusing as it did.

He reached for a piece of bread. “Work.”

“On a Saturday night?”

“Yes.”

“What did they want?”

Tom stared at her.

What am I doing? thought Ana. The filter between her brain and her mouth had diminished significantly with the third glass of Pinot and she knew better than to get into such a stupid fight after she’d had a few drinks.

“Why?” he asked after a long pause.

Ana shrugged and picked up her figurative shovel. “It just sounded awfully friendly for a work call.”

He put down his spoon and rolled his eyes. “What, you think it’s another woman? That I’m having an affair?”

Ana dropped her gaze. “No.”

“Because really, Ana, I think you’ve got the charter on affairs in this relationship, don’t you?”

The room was silent. Willow and Mia shifted uncomfortably in their seats, keeping their eyes well averted from the duelling couple. Ana gently folded her napkin and stood up from the table.

She spoke to Tom quietly, her voice trembling, close to tears. “Decide how long you want to punish me, Tom, and let me know. I can’t keep doing this forever.”

She turned and left the room, walking slowly upstairs. Tom hung his head and made no move to follow her.

Spicy Salsa

June 2, 2011


The perfect dip to spice things up a bit (either intentionally or unintentionally!). If you like your food hot then this is the perfect dip for you. You can adjust the temperature by changing the amount of jalapeno and tabasco you put in.

Serve with corn chips, fresh vegetable sticks and a side of sour cream.

3 large, ripe plum tomaotes, seeded and diced

3 roma tomatoes, seeded and diced

8 green onions, finely chopped

4 fresh jalapeno peppers, seeded

1/4 cup chopped fresh coriander

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

3 tablespoons tabasco (or other hot sauce)

1 clove garlic, minced

Salt and pepper to taste

In a blender or food processor, pulse the tomatoes, green onions, garlic, jalapeno peppers, and coriander to desired consistency. Transfer to a bowl, and mix in the lime juice, hot pepper sauce, pepper and salt.  Refrigerate for 45 minutes before serving.

 

 

Season 2: Episode 14

May 31, 2011

Ana turned slowly towards the voice, heart beating a mile a minute and her mouth suddenly dry.

“You look great,” the voice said, She felt eyes running over the length of her body and shivered involuntarily.

She should have guessed whom this event was for; everything about it had his stamp on it.

“Hello Marc,” she said, finally meeting his eyes.

He looked well, but Ana felt only pure revulsion seeing him now. She couldn’t believe this man had consumed her thoughts and her heart for so long. He walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, running his hand down her back, lingering a few seconds too long. Ana wanted to brush him off, but she was frozen, numb.

“You’ve done a great job,” he said. “It’s a wonderful party. Fortuitous you could do it at such short notice.”

She nodded, her thoughts only on how to extract herself from the situation before it got out of hand. She didn’t trust Marc. Hell, he’d probably orchestrated the whole thing to get back at her! Things had been going so wonderfully with Tom and she didn’t want this – whatever this was – to ruin it. She wondered if Tom had noticed who the client was and, if not, how she could prevent him from finding out.

She didn’t have to think about it too long.

“Ana, can we grab some more of the…” Tom stopped mid sentence as he noticed Marc upon entering the room. “What is he doing here?”

Marc strode over and held out his hand. “Good to see you. Tim, wasn’t it?”

He shook Marc’s hand, not bothering to correct the mistake, but Ana could see the muscles in Tom’s jaw tighten.

The door opened again and Marc’s wife, Cynthia, walked in. “Darling, the guests are waiting.” She looked at Ana quizzically, trying to place her. “We’ve met, haven’t we?”

That was the last straw for Tom. He ripped off his waiter’s apron and threw it on the floor. “She worked for your husband. Ask him about their affair sometime.”

He stormed through the door and left the three of them standing there, speechless. Cynthia visibly paled and walked over to Marc. She slapped him across the face, hard. Ana could see her hands shaking ever so slightly. She took a deep breath and smoothed an imaginary stray hair back into place.

“Like I said. The guests are waiting.”

She turned to Ana and looked at her coolly. “I think we’ll be able to manage from here. My husband’s assistant will arrange payment.”

And with that she took Marc’s hand, plastered a smile on her face and walked back into the party. Ana sank to the floor, tears welling in her eyes. The door opened again, this time Mia, wondering where Tom and the extra Champagne had got to.

She gasped when she saw Ana and rushed over to her. “What happened?”

Ana looked up, her eyes wide. “I have to find Tom.”

***

Tom strode out into the road, flagging down a cab.

“Where to?” the driver asked, wearily. It was another slow night.

Tom thought. He didn’t want to go home, Ana would likely go straight there and he didn’t want to see her at the moment. He needed some time to think. He pulled out his phone and dialled a number. The person on the other end was surprised to hear from him.

“Are you at home,” he said. “Can I come over?”

He directed the taxi driver and sank back in his seat, mind reeling. He thought he was over the fact that Ana had an affair with her boss. He’d dealt with it and he’d forgiven her. At least, he thought he had. The rage that overtook him when he saw them together tonight indicated otherwise.

His mobile phone rang shrill.

Ana.

He declined the call and punched out a short message.

Need some time. Will call tomorrow.

Was he doing the right thing, marrying Ana when, obviously, he hadn’t forgiven her? Could he ever truly forgive her?

The taxi arrived at his destination and he paid the driver, mumbling thanks as he got out of the car. It was cold and he pulled his jacket closer around him, pushing open the front gate and knocking on the door. It swung open and the familiar face broke into a wide grin.

“Hello, stranger,” she said, pulling him into a hug.

Tom gave in to her warm embrace and was gratified that it was as comforting as he’d remembered. She still smelled the same, he thought, feeling her soft hair against his cheek. She held him at arm’s length and looked at him with a bemused expression.

“Come on. I suspect you need a drink.”

***

A bottle of red wine later and he’d filled her in on the whole story. She hadn’t yet said a word as she stood up to get a new bottle from the wine rack. In the haze of the alcohol he couldn’t help noticing the contour of her jeans and the way her casual jumper clung to the curves of her body. Lilly. His high school sweetheart. They’d thought they were going to be together forever, but they’d been so young then. And times change. The break-up had been painful but amicable. She moved to London for university and he resolved he’d never find anyone like her again. They’d seen each other a few times since she’d moved back two years ago, and she’d hinted they could be something more than just friends. But then he’d met Ana, who was just about as different from Lilly as could be, but had the same effect on his heart. Tom never told Ana the full details about Lilly. He didn’t think it was really necessary – what was in the past was, well, in the past.

Lilly turned and caught him staring, giving him the same bemused look she had at the door. She opened the bottle of red and topped up his glass, disappearing into the kitchen briefly before returning with homemade salsa and corn chips. Tom gratefully tucked in, not realising how hungry he was. The salsa was delectable – spicy, tangy – bursting with flavour. Way better than any shop-bought stuff he’d tried.

“What are you going to do?” asked Lilly, pulling her feet up on the couch and sipping her wine thoughtfully.

Tom shrugged, licking his fingers, enjoying the way the chilli made his lips sing. Suddenly he didn’t want to think about Ana. He just wanted to be in the company of someone with whom he could be himself. Where it was just… easy.

“Can I stay tonight?”

Lilly looked at him for a long time before slowly shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” his voice trailed off as her hand rested lightly on his arm.

“It’s not that I don’t miss you, Tom. I’ve wanted you to call for such a long time and tell me it was a mistake.  But…” she removed her hand and ran it through her hair. “You’re upset. And you love Ana. You would regret this.”

Tom felt like a fool. When he’d said he wanted to stay, he hadn’t meant it in that way. Or had he? He just didn’t know any more.

He wearily lifted himself off the couch. “I should go.”

Lilly walked him to the door and kissed him softly on the cheek.

“’Bye Tom.”

He smiled at her ruefully and hunched his shoulders against the cold, turning up his collar as he walked back out into the night to find a cab to take him home.

 

Smoked Salmon Pinwheels

May 26, 2011


Willow got this recipe from a 1970’s cookbook: It’s an oldie but a goodie. Sure to be a crowd pleaser whenever you’ve got guests – or if you need to host an impromptu surprise anniversary party!

375g cream cheese, softened

1 packet lavosh bread

500g smoked salmon, finely chopped

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

2 tablespoons diced gherkin

1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill

Black pepper and sea salt

Mix together cream cheese, lemon, dill, salt and pepper. Spread this mixture thinly on lavosh bread and then top with smoked salmon and gherkin. Roll tightly and wrap in cling film – they should look like very thick cigars. Refrigerate for at least one hour. Just before serving,  cut into 1 inch pieces with a sharp knife and arrange on a plate. Garnish with dill and serve.

Season 2: Episode 13

May 24, 2011

Ana opened her eyes, excitement coursing through her veins. This is how she used to feel on Christmas morning, filled with anticipation for the day ahead. She could hear Tom’s even breathing next to her and nudged him with her knee to wake him up. He rolled over and sleepily wrapped his arms around her, snuggling them both further under the covers.

“You have to wake up,” Ana whispered in his ear, extracting herself from his muscular arms.

“Whatimeisit?” Tom mumbled, sleepily.

Ana checked the clock next to the bed. “Six thirty.”

Tom groaned and rolled over again, trying to pull his fiancé with him. “You don’t even get the keys until nine. Let’s snooze for a bit longer.”

But Ana couldn’t sleep any more. In precisely two and a half hours her very own events and public relations company would begin its first day of business. In reality, she was just moving into the office space, and wasn’t expecting to actually do any work so soon. But, it was very exciting nonetheless. She had enlisted the help of Tom, Mia and Willow (or rather, they had all insisted on helping) to move some furniture into the space and set up.

Ana had become aware of the office about a year ago when working with some clients who had rented it for a photo shoot. The beautiful loft room – with its wooden floorboards and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city – had resonated with her immediately and she had imagined that, one day, she would be able to run her own business from there. It had been a pipe dream at the time, of course, because Ana had been very happy in her job.

But that was then. Ana shuddered, remembering how horribly things had ended with Marc and how much she’d hurt Tom in the process.

She’d contacted the building’s agents soon after quitting her job and – by some small miracle – they’d told her the space would be up for rent in a couple of months. It couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. It gave Ana some time off to focus on her relationship with Tom and to fully plan how she wanted her business to run. When it came to PR and events management, Ana knew she was the best and she wanted this reflected in every aspect of her new company.

Ana looked at Tom, who had resumed snoring very gently, and smiled. More than just being a gorgeous office, the new space meant she could finally shut the door on a period of her life she wanted to forget. Today was both a physical and emotional new start and one that she intended to make the most of. Ana gave Tom a light kiss on the cheek, inhaling his scent before springing out of bed and padding downstairs.

***

“Wow.”

Willow looked around the office in amazement. Large beams of solid timber cut through the high ceiling space creating geometric shapes in the air, which changed depending on where you were standing. The walls were white and the floor was a beautiful, glossy dark wood that had obviously been well cared for. The large window offered a panoramic view of the Melbourne city skyline; the yellows and reds of autumn accentuated by a clear blue sky. It was up just high enough to see above the closest roofs, but not so high as to feel disconnected from the neighbourhood. Overall, the effect was breathtaking.

Mia backed into the room carrying half of a large desk. Tom had the other end.

“Wow,” she said, nearly dropping her end.

Ana laughed. This was the effect she had hoped for. She could just imagine how impressed clients would be when they came to her office for meetings.

***

A few hours later, they were all exhausted, but delighted with the outcome. The office looked incredible. As a thank you, Ana offered to take them all out for a well-deserved lunch.

“No need,” said Willow, slyly, producing a picnic basket. She opened it and presented Champagne, smoked salmon pinwheels, bread, cheese and dips. She popped the bottle ceremoniously – the cork travelling in an alarming arc towards the window but thankfully changing trajectory at the last minute – and poured it into plastic tea cups.

“To Ana,” she said, raising her glass.

***

They sat quietly, sleepy and full from the Champagne and delicious lunch, admiring their interior decoration skills. The unexpected ringing of the phone on Ana’s desk shattered the silence. Ana leapt up, nearly tripping over her cup.

She cleared her throat and answered. “Good afternoon…”

A young woman’s voice interrupted her. “Oh thank goodness you’re there. I have an emergency. My boss is throwing his anniversary party, but the event person we’ve been using has been admitted to hospital with pneumonia and now I don’t know what to do because…”

Ana cut her off. “That’s fine. I can help you.”

The woman on the other end of the phone took a deep breath. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have just saved my job.”

Ana grabbed a pen and a notebook from her desk. “When is the event? How many people? Do you need food, wine, entertainment?”

“It’s tomorrow, only twenty people, we need food and drink. The entertainment is arranged separately.”

“Tomorrow?” Ana nearly dropped the phone.

“Yes,” the woman said, sheepishly. “I told you it was an emergency.”

Ana composed herself. She could do this. “Absolutely no problem at all.”

She gave her email address and told the caller to send through a list of exactly what she needed while Ana prepared the contract. She could almost hear tears of gratitude in her first client’s voice.

“How did you hear about me… I mean, us?” asked Ana, curious. She’d put out a couple of press releases last week, but hadn’t expected anything so soon.

The woman paused. “I think my boss mentioned your company. Maybe you’ve worked with him before?”

“Perhaps.” Although unlikely, thought Ana, seeing as this was her first client! It must have been the press releases.

She hung up the phone and looked at her friends.

“I’m going to need your help. Again,” she said to them, a grin spreading across her face.

***

The function was going incredibly well. People had complimented Ana on the food (Willow saved the day by doing all the catering), the choice of wine (a call to Johnny had solved that problem), and the professional nature of the bar tenders (thank goodness Tom and Mia had both worked bar to put themselves through university). It was a surprise anniversary party for the client’s wife, and a call from his PA let Ana know that they were en route, ETA ten minutes. Ana made sure that each guest had a full glass of Champagne and made herself scarce. The last thing the client wanted was to see the event manager instead of all their friends. In the whirlwind preparations, and because she’d been dealing exclusively with his PA, Ana realised she hadn’t even discovered the name of the client.

Not to matter, she thought, retreating to the kitchen. I’ll meet him soon enough.

She smiled to herself as she heard the front door open and the guests yell “Surprise!”, imagining her and Tom in 20 years’ time doing the very same thing.

A sudden pang of hunger made her realise she’d barely eaten anything all day, so she wandered over to the spare platters of food. Willow had made some smoked salmon pinwheels that looked even more delightful than the ones she had made yesterday for the carpet picnic. Ana popped one in her mouth and was amazed that they tasted even better than they looked.

Savouring the salmon, lemon and dill, she was surprised to feel a rush of wind as the door behind her opened.

“Hello Ana.” A male voice softly caressed her name.

The familiar intonation sent shivers down her spine. Ana turned around slowly, willing it to be anyone other than who she knew it was.